CHAPTER 10

"What's up with Hawke?" Caitlin queried as she lugged the toolbox toward the waiting Jet Ranger. "I thought he was supposed to be here helping me with this stuff, but it's like he disappeared off the face of the earth."

"I don't know."

"Well somebody ought to. Who knows what he could get himself into without the rest of us?" she added teasingly. "It would be nice if he at least mention he was going to be gone before he just vanished."

"He did, but he should be back by now."

"When did I miss this? I never heard anything about him leaving. Where did he go?"

"Supposedly to somewhere near the Canadian border to pick up Lexa."

"Where does Lexa fit into this?"

"She's at the center of a very big mess."

"What can we do to help?"

"I called last night to see if Michael had anything new, but I got no answer. I guess the first step should be finding out where he is now."

He picked up the phone and dialed Knightsbridge and waited for someone to answer. After several rings Samantha picked up only to tell him that Michael was out."

"I need to speak with him now."

"He isn't here, Mr. Santini, he said he had some personal business that he needed to attend to, that's all."

"When will he be back?"

"I don't know. He didn't say where he was going, why, or when he would be back – now you know everything I know."

Disgruntled, he hung up the phone. He still had no idea where String was or what kind of trouble he could be in.

\A/

About a Week Later

"He isn't seeing anyone," the white-clad assistant replied coolly.

"Then he needs to make an exception. I've wasted the last week hearing he's unavailable and working on personal business. Well I'm tired of it. I want to talk to him now, and I'm not leaving until I do.

"Please calm down, sir," she requested patiently. "I don't want to have to call security."

"I'll calm down when someone tells me what the hell is going on! My boy drives off to who knows where to pick up your agent and is never seen again. To make things more suspicious, Archangel has been in a meeting, unavailable, or on personal business constantly for the last week and half. It's kind of hard to believe there isn't anything going on."

"Whether there is or not, I can't let you in."

The calm, coolness, she replied with was worse than the denial. No one seemed to care at all.

His composure gone, he no longer cared that he was about to get thrown out of the building, not that he would be missing anything. They would be lucky if he didn't decided to bring a certain helicopter back with him to show them he was serious. He was ready to launch at anyone who might get in his way when out of nowhere String and Lexa came walking down the corridor as if nothing had happened.

"String!"

"Wait, I-"

Dom paid no attention.

He wrapped the younger man in a bear hug, so grateful to see him again after wondering what had happened to him for nearly two weeks. He pulled away a moment later when he realized the hug wasn't being returned quite the way he had anticipated.

"What's wrong?"

"I was trying not to get ink all over your shirt," he answered, showing his ink covered fingers. "I failed."

Looking down at the black smears all over the front of his new white shirt, he couldn't help but let out a hearty laugh. He was so excited about seeing String again, and all String thought about was messing up his shirt.

"Where have you been? What happened?"

"We were getting out finger prints taken to compare with those found on the stolen vehicles."

"I meant the last week and a half. I was expecting you to be back the next day and you just disappeared off the face of the earth. You've had us all worried sick something terrible had happened."

"Sorry."

Sorry? That was it? Not even an explanation as to why he was sorry? He tried to give him some slack, knowing whatever it was must have been quite an ordeal. Whatever it was seemed to have quite and effect on him. He seemed out of it and spacy, his moves almost robotic.

"What happened?"

"A lot evidently. I'd really rather not go over all of it again right now."

Not very helpful.

"When do you get to come home?"

He shrugged. " Ask Michael, maybe he'll know."

"You can't decide for yourself?"

"I'm exhausted and a bed anywhere sounds good right now. Michael has been trying to sort through things for us and he said he would let us know when we could go home."

"Can I speak with him then?"

"Sure."

"You're positive? I haven't been able to get a hold of him the entire time you've been gone."

"Yeah, just walk into his office. Tell him I'm finished and heading back to the safehouse too. Hopefully I'll be able to come home soon."

With that said, he turned around and disappeared down the hallway again.

\A/

"What did you do to him?"

"What do you mean 'do to him?' I haven't done anything," Michael answered defensively. "He got into this mess on his own."

"He's a zombie."

"I haven't even seen him more than a couple of times. He's been at the safehouse with Lexa most of the time waiting on this to blow over."

"That's your problem! He can hardly stand her, and you've got him pinned up with her for weeks at a time."

"I don't have anywhere else to put him, okay? I'm working as fast as I can, but these things take time."

"When can he leave?"

"He'd be lucky enough to get out without prison time at all."

"When?"

"I should be finished by tomorrow, that's the best I can do."

"Fine. I"ll be here tomorrow afternoon to pick him up," Dom agreed finally. "And you better hope going home and a break from Lexa is all he needs."

\A/

At the Safe House

"You know I hear this is about over," Lexa said, " for you at least."

"Is that supposed to make me feels sorry for you?" Hawke returned cynically.

"No. It is my fault, that much I'll admit."

"But you won't admit what you did that was your fault so we would both be out of here."

"And I'd be in jail."

"You'd look good in an orange jumpsuit," he teased.

"How about you though? You'd probably end up right there next to me as an accomplice, and I hear the silent types don't make very many friends in prison."

"I've been through worse."

"Right," She stared at an imaginary speck on the wall for a minute before continuing. "Hawke, I'm sorry you got so... involved... in this. I don't know how it got so out of hand; I thought I had it better thought out. I have to know if you've given my idea any more thought though."

"What idea?"

"Nikita."

"What is this? You apologize then immediately ask for a favor, it can't work like that."

"I just don't want her to suffer any more for my mistakes."

"Then why did you do it?"

"I told you. I had to right some old wrongs."

"By doing more wrongs?"

"I can't explain it, I just had to do it. What do you care anyway? Tomorrow you can get back to your life. If you get back early enough, you can even watch me get hauled off to jail on national tv. For all the trouble I've been through I ought to at least get that much."

"Not holding much for an all-clear from Michael, I take it?"

"If I got the opportunity I'd take it and run, but even without a murder charge, they still have me for one heck of a speeding ticket, not to mention the three hours it took them to give up on the chase."

"That was you?"

She smiled. "It was fun too. Driving a Corvette is most any time you get to put it through its paces though. What I think I'll miss the most in prison though, other than Nikita of course, is my motorcycle."

"More than the Corvette?"

"It was borrowed anyway, but yeah. Cars just take up to much room, you know? With the bike I can weave in and out of traffic all I want; the car only becomes more useful when you have open roads to use it on."

"I'm not sure why exactly, but I hope you manage alright."

"Thanks. I don't figure how the prison thing is going to work for me though. I guess I never really figured they would catch up with me. I'm not sure I can do it."

"You've been through worse. How long do you think they'd give you anyway?"

"Even with Michael's help it'll be a few years at least," Lexa answered. "Too long for my taste."