Trouble Child

Birkoff watched Michael leave, then got up and walked casually over to where Walter stood, bent over his work. "Was that him?"

"Was what who?"

Birkoff sighed. "Michael. Was that him?" When Walter only looked blank, he groaned.
"Was he the one who watched me?"

Walter's expression didn't change, but his eyes shifted just a fraction. "I don't know what you're talking about, kid."

"Of course you don't." Birkoff turned away, frustrated. Logically, he knew Walter only kept things from him when it was absolutely necessary; emotionally, he hated being lied to by the one person he trusted.

He turned to walk away, but Walter called him back. "Hey."

"What is it?" He leaned on the table between them, and Walter leaned forward as well.

Walter's voice dropped to just above a murmur. "You're smart enough to know the answers I can't give you. You need to be smart enough to know when to drop it. Don't go asking any stupid questions, all right?"

Birkoff nodded, and Walter glanced around, then said quietly, "So, uh...let's just say, hypothetically, that somebody did watch you. What makes you think it was him?"

"I saw it in his eyes, when he first looked at me." Birkoff stood up straight. "Only for a second, but it was enough."

"Does it really matter? Through a window or on a videotape, what's the difference?"

"It matters, Walter. And if you were me, you'd know the difference."

Walter nodded wearily. "I hear ya. Just don't go getting yourself into any trouble, okay?"

"You know me, Walter," Birkoff said as he turned to go back to his station. "Nose clean, eyes forward."

"Yeah, I know you," Walter muttered, bending over his work once again. "That's why I'm worried."

***

Michael had feared that it might be awkward, working with Birkoff, but he'd underestimated Section's training. He had no difficulty in behaving normally, and they soon developed a good working relationship.

He spoke to Walter about it one day, briefly and in hushed voices as they went over a new explosives trigger Walter was developing. "Does he know?"

Walter glanced over. "You mean - ?" He jerked his head slightly in the direction of Birkoff's bay. "I didn't tell him anything. Kid's edgy enough as it is."

Michael nodded. "I understand." He continued in a louder voice, "So, this trigger is controlled by body heat?"

"Yeah. Once the contacts drop below 95 degrees, which allows for natural variations in body temperature, the trigger goes. Gives the op about three minutes, give or take a minute depending on the ambient temp, to get the hell out of Dodge."

"Clever." Michael dropped his voice again. "You care quite a bit for him."

"Like he was my own."

Walter's tone was a bit sharper than usual, and Michael sighed. "I did what I had to do, Walter. You know that."

"Yeah, I know it. Doesn't mean I have to like it." Walter bent his head over the trigger again. "Was there anything else you wanted?"

"No." Michael turned to walk back through the comm center, and Birkoff called him over.

"Got a few minutes? Operations wants us to run through this sim together."

Michael bent to look over his shoulder at the screen, schooling his features into a neutral expression. As they worked through the sim, he noticed, in his peripheral vision, that Birkoff kept glancing over at him, and that once or twice, when they happened to touch, it seemed that the air stilled around them for a moment.

He frowned, then decided that he was imagining things because of his conversation with Walter. After the sim finished, he headed for the egress, nodding to Walter on his way out.

***

Walter waited until Michael was gone, then motioned Birkoff over. "What the hell are you doing?" he whispered.

Birkoff's eyes widened innocently. "Um, my job?"

"That's not what I mean and you know it." Walter pulled him over into the corner. "You looked like you were starving and he was a five-course dinner."

"You were the one who told me I shouldn't hold anything against him," Birkoff replied with a shrug. "Assuming, of course, that there was anything to hold against him. Which, of course, you can't tell me."

"Yeah, well, forgive and forget is one thing, but Michael's the last person in this place you oughta be trying to start with."

"Who said I was trying to start with him?" Birkoff wouldn't meet Walter's gaze.

"You're a lousy liar, kid." Walter rubbed his eyes wearily. "Look. I can't tell you what to do..."

"No, you can't."

"...but I can tell you this: you're asking for a whole lot of grief. And I won't be able to help you when you get it."

Birkoff's chin lifted. "I can take care of myself.
Wa
Walter sighed. "Yeah, sure you can. Just, promise me you'll think long and hard before you do something stupid, okay?"

"Whatever. I have to get back to work."

Walter returned to his area, but his mind was troubled. He knew Birkoff too well to be fooled.

If the kid was lucky, he'd come out of this with just a broken heart.

***

Birkoff glanced up as Michael approached his workstation, trying not to look as rattled as he felt. Since his conversation with Walter the other day, he'd been hoping he wasn't as transparent to everyone else as he was to his friend. He almost wished he'd been able to hold onto the resentment he'd felt towards Michael at first. Granted, it would have made doing his job difficult, but at least he wouldn't have felt like a nervous schoolboy every time Michael came within ten feet of him.

"You have new intel on Bucharest?" Michael laid a hand on his shoulder, and Birkoff's heart skipped a beat.

"Yeah." Birkoff swallowed hard, forcing himself to concentrate. "Looks like the contact is a Crystal Sky plant. Her picture turned up in a group shot from an anti-government rally, and we confirmed her identity this morning."

Michael leaned down to get a better look at the screen, so close that Birkoff could feel him breathing. "So what now?"

His fingers trembled just a little as they flew over the keyboard. "Meet as planned, but bring her in. Alive."

Michael nodded. "Risk factors?"

"Um, you're meeting in a park, at night, so there may be local police around - not likely, but possible. Apparently, when they're bored, they go looking for couples to harass."

"Understood." Michael straightened up, patting Birkoff's shoulder. "Good work."

"Yeah, thanks," Birkoff whispered, eyes fixed on Michael as he headed up to Operations' perch.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Walter watching him, and the older man shook his head slightly. Birkoff shrugged, mustered his best grin, and returned to his work, but he had the feeling Walter wasn't fooled for a moment.

He certainly wasn't fooling himself.