Marella's hand hovered over the door handle of Michael's private room. She sighed, squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. She tapped lightly, opened the door and stepped through it. She almost sighed with relief; Gemma was nowhere in sight.

Michael looked up from the dinner tray and ignored how pleased he was to see his senior aide although he did allow a small smile. 'Marella.'

'Sir.' Marella scanned him with a critical eye, walking over to stand beside him. He looked rested. 'You look better.'

'I feel better.' Michael said patting his lips with the linen napkin. His good eye surveyed his assistant. 'You look tired.'

'That's very un-gentlemanly of you, sir.' Marella returned with a smile. 'Particularly given the reason why I'm tired is your unexpected hospital stay.'

'I apologise.' Michael's lips twitched with amusement. He tapped the bed. 'Sit and tell me what's been happening.'

Marella perched on the bed and updated on him on the dozen urgent matters that had crossed his desk that day. He offered advice on one or two, agreed with her decisions on the others. He signed the papers she'd brought and raised his eyebrow at the requisition order for the Airwolf parts.

'How much?' Michael muttered.

'You did take her out without Hawke's permission,' Marella pointed out, 'and she was damaged when you returned her.'

Michael's eye narrowed on her. 'Are you implying this is my own fault?'

'Never, sir.' Marella placed the signed requisition order back in her briefcase.

'Thanks for arranging for Meryl to come by with Angelina.' Michael said. It had been good to see his daughter; the get well card she had made for him took pride of place on the small bedside table.

'She's missed you.' Marella said with a smile. Michael's daughter was smart as a whip and adorable. She glanced at the clock. 'I'd better get back.'

Michael nodded slowly as she stood up to leave.

'One last thing,' he said halting her departure. He cleared his throat. 'I've arranged to have Gemma transferred to New York.'

Her dark eyes shot to his in surprise. 'Why?' She blurted out without thinking. She recovered almost immediately. 'I'm sorry sir, that's none of my business.'

'Actually I think maybe it is.' Michael said evenly. 'I'm not unaware that she made life difficult for you around the time my marriage broke up.'

Marella blinked at him.

He cleared his throat. 'I spoke with her earlier. She needs her family around her and our New York clinic is much closer to her parents and her brother. She'll travel tomorrow.'

Marella adjusted her grip on the briefcase. 'I see, sir.' She frowned and wondered at his apparent change of heart. 'Did something prompt you…that is,' she sighed and gave into her urge to check, 'did Caitlin say something to you, sir?'

Michael looked at her puzzled. 'No. Actually, it was Hawke.'

'Hawke?' Marella wondered if she needed to sit down.

'I know. The last person you'd expect to interfere.' Michael gave a self-deprecating smile. 'He was with me the night Gemma left five years ago.'

'Oh.' Marella hadn't realised Hawke and Michael had been close back then. She remembered the relationship as being completely professional although thinking back perhaps the first early signs of the friendship that now bound the two men had been evident.

Michael gestured. 'He reminded me of something I said that night that helped me move on back then and helped me view the current situation with a clear mind.'

Marella nodded, her curiosity roused but the expression on Michael's face told her he wasn't going to reveal anything further. 'Well, thank you for letting me know the news.' She gestured at the door suddenly feeling as though a weight had been lifted from her. 'I guess I'd better go and get a good night's sleep.'

''Night Marella. I'll see you in the morning.'

'Yes sir.' She smiled back at him before leaving, the door closing softly behind her.

Michael shifted position in the bed to ease the ache in his leg but smiling with satisfaction at the way things had turned out. Dammit, he thought grumbling to himself as he got comfortable, he owed Hawke another thank you. Well at least this time, he mused, Hawke hadn't needed to pick him up off a pavement.