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[personal profile] shanachie_quill
Title: Family Ties
Characters: Nikita Mears, Michael Bishop, Sean Pierce, Cassandra Ovechkin, Max Ovechkin
Fandom: Nikita (TV)
Series:
Written For: weakmoments
Prompt:
Summary: Michael might have told Cassandra not to contact him, but that doesn’t mean he won’t come when his son is in trouble.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: the television show
Warnings:
Disclaimer: No one recognizable belongs to me. Not making any money off this.
Second Disclaimer Despite being fanfiction, this is MY work and I do not give anyone or any other site permission to republish this story under my name or any other without my authorization.
Author's Note: And this is it. The last of my holiday stories. Hope y’all enjoyed the stories. I’ll be back eventually with more stories, I’m just not sure when. Special thanks to irishjeeper and illfindmyway for betaing this. And to chrismouse for the Russian translations.

Michael jerked awake, not sure at first what had woken him. A moment later a sharp ring pierced the silence of the room and he rolled in bed, automatically reaching for the sound. Beside him, Nikita grumbled as his motions disturbed her. “Is it Nerd?” she asked, still sounding half-asleep.

He checked the caller ID before sitting up and thumbing it on, answering her as he put the phone up to his ear. “No. It’s a blocked number. Hello?” he continued in a slightly louder voice.

“Michael? It’s Cassandra.”

“Cassandra.” Michael tried not to tense up at the sound of his ex-lover’s voice. “How… How’s Max? How are… How did you get this number?”

“Max is… Max is…” Cassandra took a deep breath on the other end of the phone. “Can you come? I’m not asking for me. It’s for Max.”

Michael exchanged glances with Nikita who’d moved into a seated position when she heard Cassandra’s name before answering, “Yes. Of course. Just give me a couple of hours. Text me the address.”

“I will. Thank you, Michael.”

Nikita was staring at him as he hung up. “You don’t think she’s trying to draw you back in, do you?” she asked. “Using Max?”

“I don’t know,” Michael answered, throwing the sheet back and getting out of bed. “But. I can’t just refuse.”

“I’m not asking you to, Michael. I’m just asking you to think first.”

“What do you want me to do, Nikita? Just ignore her?”

“No. But you told her that she wasn’t to contact you again. What if this is a trap?”

Michael leaned down and kissed her. “Would you feel better if you went with me?”

“Somehow I don’t think Cassandra wants me to tag along, since she didn’t mention inviting me. I’d feel better if someone went with you. Why don’t you take the boy scout?”

“Will you call him while I shower and pack a bag?”

Nikita nodded, getting out of bed herself. “I’ll call Nerd to book your tickets, too.”

“Thanks.” Michael hurried into the bathroom as she headed for the living room.






Michael met Sean at the airport. It still felt weird to be traveling openly and without worrying that someone was going to hunt them down. The world of Division, Oversight, and finally the Store had been his life for so many years that being a normal citizen had yet to sink in.

“So all Nikita told me was we're going to see an old contact,” Sean commented as they waited in line to go through security.

“Cassandra is from my days of being an agent,” Michael replied in a low voice. “She's... complicated.”

Sean raised an eyebrow at that. “Michael, you and Nikita are complicated. How much worse can you and Cassandra be?”

“I was assigned to honey trap her. I didn't know she was MI6. And she's the mother of my son but he thinks his father is the former Czech president.”

Sean blinked. “Ooookay,” he said slowly. “That is complicated.”

“Little more than Nikita and I,” Michael agreed.

“So what’s going on?” Sean asked as they settled into their seats.

“I don’t actually know. Cassandra called this morning and said something… said Max needed me.”

“So it could be a trap?”

“I haven’t ruled that out.”





It took them more than two hours to get their luggage, straighten out the rental car, and figure out the address from what Michael had written down in his haste to get all the information during the phone call. By the time they did, both men were starving. Michael made the executive decision to stop and get food from the closest drive through (which turned out to be a local place) before heading for the address.

“Did we end up in a flyover state?” Sean asked as he rifled through the bag on the seat between them, looking for his burger. He pulled one out, checked it, and handed it to Michael.

“It’s a good place to hide,” Michael commented, splitting his attention between his food and the road. “Not many people visit for reasons other than family.”

Sean nodded. “Still not sure what we’re doing here.”

“I can’t…” Michael shook his head. “I can’t in good conscious leave my child in danger. If this is a trap.” He paused. “I think the two of us are good enough to deal with it.”

“And Nikita calls me the boy scout,” Sean commented. He pointed at a turn coming up. “That’s our turn.”





As they slammed the doors, the front door of the small house flew open. A blonde boy half-ran, half-stumbled down the steps, catching himself as he hit the ground. A wide grin spread across his face when he recognized Michael. “Zdraveestye, Mikhail!” he called.

The former Division agent caught the boy as he barreled into the man; he’d still been expecting the slight boy he’d last seen, but Max was now almost chest high on him and his baby fat was beginning to melt away; showing off the man he’d become. “Zdraveestye, Maks,” he returned the greeting. “Gdyey tvoya mama?”

“I’m here, Michael.” Sean looked up to see an elegant blonde standing at the top of the porch. She was dressed in jeans and an oversized sweater, but there was a grace to her pose that wasn’t normally apparent in such clothes.

Michael rested his arm on Max’s shoulder, motioning to Sean to grab their bags. “Let’s get inside.”

Cassandra moved aside so the two men could enter, Max still hanging onto Michael’s arm. As the door closed behind them, Michael asked, “Why did you call me?”

Her eyes flicked to where Max was still holding onto Michael, saying, “Max. Why don’t you…”

“I want to stay with Papa Mikhail,” Max answered.

Michael flinched at the name, his eyes darting down to Max. “What? Cassandra, did you tell…?”

“Max. Please go finish what you were doing in your room,” Cassandra said gently.

The boy nodded after a minute, finally releasing his grip on Michael and heading towards the back of the house. “Sean?” Michael jerked his head in the direction the boy had disappeared.

“On it,” Sean agreed. He dropped his bag and followed almost silently. A minute later, Michael could hear low voices as Sean caught up with Max and engaged him in conversation.

“Sean will keep Max busy,” Michael said. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

Cassandra wrapped her arms around herself, her sweater slipping off one shoulder. “I had to tell him. He’s getting older and he’s beginning to ask questions. I had to tell him the truth.”

“So you told him. And then called me here to… spring the surprise on me?” Michael questioned.

“No. I called you here to have you take him away,” Cassandra replied. “I’ve been recalled by MI-6.”

“The point of you disappearing was to keep you off their radar,” Michael pointed off. “How did they find you?”

“I don’t know, Michael,” she replied. “But I don’t want them to have Max. They still think he’s Ovechkin’s son. Either way; your son or Ovechkin’s son, my son is not a bargaining chip.”

“I’m still not clear what you want me to do.”

“I want you to take him away. You and… Nikita,” Cassandra managed not to stumble over the name, “can protect him better than I could with the MI-6 recall.”

“I can’t just take him.” Michael slipped a hand into his pocket. “I’ll have to discuss it with Nikita. And what does Max think about his mother sending him away?”

“Discuss it with her,” Cassandra agreed. “And he’ll understand. Eventually.”

Nodding, Michael indicated that he was going to step outside, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Think you’ll be home soon?” Nikita asked when she answered the phone.

“Possibly,” Michael answered, looking out into the distance. “It wasn’t a trap.” He waited for Nikita to respond and when she didn’t say anything, he continued, “But there were some unexpected developments.”

“Explain.”

“Cassandra claims she’s been recalled by MI-6 but isn’t offering any explanations. She’s told Max I’m his father and wants me to bring Max home with me so we can protect him.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone before Nikita said, “Do you want to bring him home?”

“I don’t want to leave him at the mercy of MI-6. And he’d be safer with us than in foster care,” Michael responded. He knew he was asking a lot of Nikita. They hadn’t discussed children; their lives had always been too dangerous to risk bringing a child of their own into it. But he’d seen her with Max and although she’d been awkward with his son, he didn’t think she’d turn the boy away. It wasn’t like Max would be completely defenseless. And it wouldn’t take them long to teach him how to protect himself.

“Pack him up then. Bring him home. We’ll figure out the logistics later.”

Michael’s lips twitched at the simplistic ideals of her logic. “We’ll see you soon,” he promised.

Re-entering the house, he found Cassandra folding clothes and packing them into a suitcase. “What was the decision?” she asked as he shut the door behind him.

“We’ll take him,” Michael told her. “But that means you have no contact after this. None at all. That means you don’t call me to check in. You don’t call to get him back.”

She nodded, her fists tightening at her sides. “I understand. I hope. You’ll tell him about me? Remind him of me? I don’t want him to forget me. I know he’ll be safe with you, but I still… I need to know. I understand I can’t see him again, but he’s my son.”

“We’ll do our best,” Michael promised. “He’s a good boy. He won’t forget.” He motioned towards the back of the house where Sean and Max had disappeared. “We’ll leave as soon as he’s packed then.”

By the time they had sorted through and packed up Max’s things, it was close to dark. Michael decided to wait until the next morning to leave. They’d decided to drive rather than fly back home since they were taking so many things. Cassandra had packed her own small bag in preparation of leaving and now she hugged Max tightly, whispering to him. Max pulled away finally, telling her, “Ya lyublyu tvoyu, mama.”

“YA tozhe tebya lyublyu , moy rebenok,” Cassandra told him. “Be good for your papa.”

Max nodded, clearly trying to be strong for his mother. “Off to bed,” Michael said. “We’re going to get an early start tomorrow.”

Michael knew their lives were going to change, but he almost couldn’t wait. He hadn’t expected to have a chance to be a father to his son, but he wasn’t going to relinquish that chance now.




Hello, Michael!--Zdraveestye, Mikhail!


Hello, Max--Zdraveestye, Maks.


Where is your mother?--Gdyey tvoya mama?


Papa Mikhail—Papa Michael


I love you, Mama.--Ya lyublyu tvoyu, mama.


I love you, too, my baby--YA tozhe tebya lyublyu , moy rebenok