"Major Kincaid, I need to talk to you," said Ronald Sandoval, silently thankful for the poker face that he'd mastered thanks to his years as a law enforcement agent and as Companion Protector. He watched intently as Kincaid sighed and looked up from the data pads he had been reading, the irritation at his interruption plain to see in the man's startling green eyes.
Kincaid then gave a tired sigh and said, "Can't this wait till tomorrow, Sandoval? I really need to get this finished."
"It's about my stay in Bethesda last year, Major Kincaid... and the transfusion that saved my life."
Sandoval could literally see the shutters coming down in the major's eyes at his somewhat stark announcement, but that was the only sign of apprehension that the younger man showed.
"Give me ten minutes to finish this up and I'll meet you at the main doors. There's a quiet café a couple of blocks from here that should give us the chance for an uninterrupted talk."
"Ten minutes, Kincaid. No more."
A sigh and a nod were the only acknowledgement he got. Satisfied, for now, Sandoval left the major to his paperwork.
Their somewhat tense silence had scared off their waitress soon after she'd brought them the coffees that they had ordered. Sandoval sat silently for now, content to watch the agile and clearly nervous fingers of his colleague as they fidgeted with the edge of the saucer sitting in front of him. In all honesty, he'd not expected to get this far so easily; he had been sure that Kincaid would put up more of a struggle about going somewhere to talk.
His silent contemplation was finally rewarded with a resigned question from Kincaid. "What exactly do you know about the transfusion, Sandoval?"
Leaning back in his seat, Sandoval let his eyes sweep lazily over the patrons of the little café before raising his gaze to his companion. "The doctor had to use all the blood to save me... all except the small portion she tested first. That is gone too, but the information that her tests recorded survived; more specifically, the abnormalities that the gene sequencer couldn't identify."
Kincaid's expressionless face was an answer in its own right and then his eyes slowly widened in understanding as he said, "The San Diego fire-fight."
Sandoval inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the intuitive leap that his colleague had made. "San Diego. You got caught by some metal fragments as you pushed us out of the line of fire. I gave you my handkerchief to wipe the cut above your eye."
"And I gave you it back," said Kincaid with a rueful sigh. "In fact, I seem to remember saying 'thank you'."
Sandoval felt a smile tugging at his lips but restrained himself in time. Instead, he got to the point. "I'd already decided that the source of the blood had to be someone within the confines of the Companions and their personnel. My search for a donor match was encrypted. It would have to be a skilled outside operative that hacked the codes.
"More to the point, I could have accepted that some word of my condition may have escaped outside the security black out I instigated, but not to an extent where an outsider could have got all the information. Not to mention the fact that it would have taken inside access to be able to get onto the Companion net to get the information that I was dying. It had to be someone on the inside.
"I authorised all blood tests carried out during routine physicals to be put through one extra test... a match for the genetic abnormalities from my unknown saviour. All personnel, ancillary, Volunteer and Protector were tested... all but you. Your skill for ducking medicals with anyone other than your own doctors is truly impressive, Major."
"Why, thank you," said Kincaid with forced cheerfulness. "So," he then continued. "You had to be about ninety-five percent sure and then I helpfully handed you a blood sample for testing."
"Indeed," said Sandoval.
"So, you know."
"Yes. No."
That answer actually produced a smile from Kincaid and Sandoval did allow a smile to grace his own features in return. "I know you gave the blood. My doctor said that it was my son that did so. That, I don't understand."
"Does it really matter, Sandoval? You needed the blood to live. I gave it. Can't you let it go at that?"
For a long moment, they looked at each other. It would be easiest. They weren't friends but they did have to work together. Each had secrets to hide and each had much to lose if the other brought things to the attention of the Taelons. If they had any sense they'd leave things alone.
Kincaid had taken the risk to save him and Sandoval knew he had to know it all. He said one word. He said, "Please?" That one plea for an explanation hung in the air like the reverberating echo of a gunshot and Ronald Sandoval waited for his answer.
"Okay," said Kin-- his son. "I'll tell you. Just not here. Can we take this to your apartment? I presume it's swept for surveillance?"
"Let's go, then," said Sandoval quietly. He wanted answers. He needed answers.
It was over an hour later and he'd got the answers he wanted... much more than he wanted... more than he was really comfortable knowing. Sandoval sat silently in his leather chair, watching the tense back of Kincaid as he stood sentry, staring out of his living window at the falling shadows of night as it encroached on the city.
Kincaid.
His son. His and Siobhan's.
Well, not really theirs. Their bodies had been used, but it had all been Ha'gel.
Kincaid. His colleague. His enemy. The man to whom he owed his continuing existence. His son.
God, this was a mess.
"Liam?" The use of his first name got the younger man's attention. It was so... familiar. With connotations of a relationship they couldn't ever really have - even if they both secretly wanted it. He had the sinking feeling they did.
Father and son was too unrealistic a goal for them now... not in this society... not in this climate. They could so easily have been friends. There was much about the younger man that he admired, much that brought back the happier memories of his life before the Companions arrive.
That was something that could never be, though. Not now.
He beckoned Liam to come back to sit beside him. He could see the reluctance in the green eyes of his son, but, this one time, his son did as he was bid.
Sandoval sighed and grasped at Liam's hand. His son flinched at first but eventually accepted his touch and opened his fingers to mesh them together as they both wanted... as the moment merited.
"I'll keep your... our... secret, Liam. That is the least I owe you, the most I can offer you."
"Thank you, fa-- Sandoval."
Was it Sandoval's imagination, or did two hearts break at the forced use of his name rather than the word 'father'?
"Do you want me to resign, Sandoval?" asked his son, softly.
Sandoval sighed and shut his eyes briefly before raising his gaze to meet the waiting gaze of his son. "I should say yes and tell you to get as far away from the Taelons as you can. But I can't. I don't have the right. You have your own reasons for doing what you're doing. Your own beliefs. Your own loyalties.
"I can't tell you to leave. I won't force you. Just... be clear. If your identity gets out, I won't be able to protect you."
"I understand."
Sandoval felt Liam pulling away and reluctantly unmeshed their fingers, smiling slightly at Liam's, "I guess I'll see you in the morning," although his heart felt like it was breaking.
Getting up, he walked the younger man to the door and wished him goodnight. Once the door had closed, Sandoval briefly leaned his forehead against it and took a deep breath to steady his emotions. He'd just let one of his most persistent enemies walk away, promising to keep his secret. His enemy? His son.
Moving back into his living room, he went to his personal console and downloaded one of the few children's classics that he'd never read. The first book his son had read for himself. Swift's Gulliver's Travels. A man out of place in the society he found himself... a giant amongst little people.
Liam. The most unique being ever to grace humanity with its presence... and a gift that they'd never know they'd had. Liam. His son.