"And now, you have the added bonus, at no extra cost of night vision. When there is no light whatsoever, the camera goes into an infrared mode. Let’s just say it was developed for some special activities and you get to reap the benefits."

Rollie rocked his head from side to side, wanting to raise his head off the pillow, "I don’t want it, it’s not natural. I feel like a monster. I feel inhuman."

"You’ll get used to it and it will become second nature to you. It’s not like it could have been changed to just normal vision for you. These implants were not exactly given to us, you know," Michael added, as Rollie watched the heat images from Michael's body rise in his throat and shoulders.

"It has you worried, from the way the blood is moving in your upper body," Rollie commented looked at his shape in the dark.

"Good, you are already perceiving the heat discharges and equating emotions as a result," commented Michael.

"So, you leaving…" Rollie added for he knew this visit was Michael’s way of saying goodbye.

"Yes, I am leaving. I need to be inducted, you know…into that great program that the CIA won’t tell you about either; you can call it a shadow world. You don’t exist really, just move around behind the living- popping up once and a while and then back to world as you know it." Michael’s voice had softened and Rollie heard him swallow hard.

"You’re still not safe, are you?" Rollie asked, thinking that even by turning over the precious files that he and Michael had retrieved from the clean room on Pollepel was just the beginning.

"Safe…a nice, convenient term used by amateurs and the clueless," Michael said with a smirk, "at least they never really had you. You are an extremely lucky dude- Rollie. Whatever that brain pattern was that you emitted, it certainly jammed the debriefers’ work on you."

"Don’t know that I have anything, Michael, save the dreamin’. And I didn’t think I even had that all the time I was in that cell box."

"You certainly baffled them, Rollie. What’s more, they left you there when Martins was found dead in Washington. Everyone else was moved out and is probably starting operative status now."

"Ah, a reject as always…" Rollie reflected, "but tell me Michael, when do the nightmares stop, when does the bright light in my head finally turn off?"

"It doesn’t…you just try to dim it now and then and as for the nightmares, at least you have a family to hold onto…I envy you."

"Brabon is with you then? There are more of you that have separated from this radical group?"

"No, he is not with me. We are all disconnected now. The group is in a shambles now that Martins’ control is gone. I’m not sorry that I killed him. With the exposure of the files and Toya and others rounded up- the CIA will be watching all operatives carefully, looking for any and all of the conspirators in this group.

"What will you do?" Rollie asked suddenly, all the talk about the espionage world he would rather leave behind.

"I will probably start out well and end up where I always end up, back in trouble. It seems to be all I know," Michael replied, clearing his throat.

"You jolly well better get a new trade, Michael. What about husband and father?" Rollie asked, and for the first time, smiled as Michael could see the heat images in Rollie’s face and body intensify.

"I am afraid Mira and I will never be that again."

"Never say never…" Rollie reminded him.

"Never…" replied Michael and he stepped back and disappeared as Rollie still had a million questions still unanswered.

"You’re always doing that, disappearing after throwing out a smoke bomb- sneaky, lying bloke!"

Angie was nervous. She had been approached by the recovery nurse and told that she could see Rollie, that he was awake, talking and seeing!

Smiling, she left Mira and Francis and walked slowly down the corridor toward the recovery room. They passed a bathroom and she suddenly stopped;

"Wait!" she asked, " I need to go in here a moment, okay?" The nurse nodded and Angie went in and shut the door, placing her back against it and taking a deep breath. She knew she looked horrible. As she looked into the mirror, she sighed. She had no brush to comb her mussed hair that was clumped around her shoulders. She usually didn’t wear much make-up but as she studied her face; the circles under her eyes and the sallow complexion, they reminded her that some cover-up would not have done her any harm. She splashed cold water on her face and then flipped her hair forward as she bent over with some effort and pain. She ran her hands through the unruly hair and brought her head up, flinging her hair back. Looking down, she noted her bulging, slowly shrinking abdomen and touched it, biting her lip. Oh God, she told herself, she was absolutely, the worst looking hag she had ever seen.

"Mrs. Tyler?" asked the nurse from the outside, knocking on the door, "you okay in there?"

"Uh, yeah- sure! Angie flushed the toilet and shut the water off at the sink. She didn’t look back in the mirror. As she emerged, the nurse smiled and together, they continued the rest of the way into the recovery room.

Angie wet her lips nervously as she could see the isolation room where Rollie was being kept, the light on inside and a nurse exiting the room, with an empty IV bag in hand. She slowly stepped through the threshold and held her breath.

Rollie turned his head slightly hearing someone enter his room from his flat position on the bed. Angie's blond hair cascaded around her shoulders, so much longer than he had remembered. Her cheeks were reddened with a glow of physical blush that rose from the notch in her throat. Although she was clothed in a robe, he could see the residual swell of pregnancy below her waist and the rounded changes in her breasts. He smiled then, as her blue eyes fastened on his, the amazing ability to see her after all these months, made his eyes water.

"Oh sweetie, you are so beautiful!" he cried out, as Angie’s lips trembled slightly and she rushed over to him and embraced him, his arms coming around her tightly as he held onto her. He inhaled her scent, her feel and the taste of her lips as she kissed him then, her joy at his restored sight having no bounds.

"I don’t want this to end," he told her, his mouth against her ear. She stared into his eyes, trying to see the difference but there was nothing there, save some v-shaped stitches around his pupils, she thought and Brabon had told her that they would dissolve in time. She could see no cameras, no strange looking robotic eyes. They looked, for all the world, the same- a deep, warm brown- the only difference was that Rollie’s thick, long lashes had been clipped for the surgery.

"I guess you will have to envy your son and his lashes now," she commented, smiling as he thought about Aidan and kissed her hand.

"I can’t wait to see my son!" he remarked with pride.

"You will, tomorrow after you can get up from being flat!" Angie replied, still bent over him and stroking back the unruly curls from his forehead.

"Ange?"

"Yeah Rollie?"

"You don’t have to worry about Michael, he’s gone."

"Is that what he told you, that he was disappearing?"

"Yeah, came in and told me a few things, not important right now and nothing earth-shattering. What he told me just made me think about how much I wanted to be with you and Aidan."

Angie smiled and lowered her eyes to her own shape, embarrassed and he could see her worry.

"Ange, wish I could have seen you before you have Aidan, all pregnant and waddling around," he remarked, grinning as she made a face.

"This is how I looked, silly!" she replied, putting her arms out as if she show him how big she had gotten.

"Nah, I would have given anything to cuddle up next to your big, warm belly- this is nothing, sweetie…" he said softly, as his hand came to rest on her abdomen and she giggled slightly. He smiled, hearing the old Angie- the relaxation returning between them.

"I guess we have a lot of catching up to do," he said to her, "what about where Aidan is staying, the loft and all, do you have baby things? I mean, what are we going to do?" His mind was just racing and Angie put her fingers to his lips to quiet him.

"Everything is there…his nursery is not far from us- I actually converted that huge walk-in closet you had made for us off of the bedroom. I had help, you know. You’ll meet him. His name is Tony Alvarez and he came in very handy at home and on the set. He’s in college, responded to my ad for help and got me through the worst months. You’ll like him!" Angie said to him, her eyes sparkling.

Rollie made a face, a face that Angie knew so well; "So, someone to replace me, eh?"

"Um, yeah- the Ad read; ‘fill-in F/X man, husband and father-to-be needed. Experienced in renovations and catering to cranky, hormonally-challenged woman’ ."

"Go on!" he remarked, as she kissed the tip of his nose.

The nurse walked into the room and smiled softly but with an agenda; "Mrs. Tyler, it’s time to take Mr. Tyler back to his room and let him get some sleep."

"Oh, yeah- sure…" Angie said regretfully, not wanting to ever leave Rollie’s side as she stood up and moved away from him slightly only to have Rollie’s hand reach out and firmly grasp hers.

"Don’t go far!" he told her, his voice raised slightly.

"No, I’ll be close, you’ll feel me," she replied, smiling back at him and their hands released slowly as he watched her go through the door.

"First baby?" asked the nurse, getting ready to take Rollie’s blood pressure, as she adjusted her stethoscope.

"First of everything…" he replied, still looking at the door and the image of Angie’s smiling face imprinted in his mind.

Angie apprised Mira and Francis of the news from the recovery room to their relieved faces. Sarah had joined Francis at this point and the two women hugged as Sarah then handed Angie a beautifully wrapped package.

"Hey, we never did the shower so…" Sarah began as Mira laughed and pulled out her gift as well.

Angie rolled her eyes and gingerly got back into her bed. She was exhausted and it would be time for feeding shortly. She opened Sarah’s gift and opened her mouth in surprise; "Oh Sarah- Francis! They are beautiful!"

She pulled out the warming set from the box, the blanket and the little snug bag as she called it. It was a little gown with a gathered hemline that could be drawn up to cover the baby’s feet.

"Yeah, we thought Aidan would look cute in a ‘sweet pea’ ensemble," Francis added as Sarah elbowed him.

"I didn’t know if it was going to be a boy or a girl so…" Sarah was trying to apologize but Angie waved her off and just stroked the soft material.

"I love it, and I know Aidan will look great in it!" Angie smiled, and then picked up Mira’s gift and began to unwrap it. Mira had sat down and ran a hand through her hair, sighing.

Angie opened the box and was quiet. She slowly pulled out the christening gown, the blanket and looked at the intricate lace work and the embroidery that was stitched so elegantly at the cuffs and neckline. She looked over to Mira and met her eyes; they were rimmed in tears but not going to spill over if she could help it.

"Oh Mira, how lovely and how thoughtful of you!" Angie said in a hushed voice, filled with emotion for she knew that she had made this gown, the embroidery hand-stitched. She also knew by the look in Mira’s eyes that this gown had been made for another baby- a love child that never had been born.

She reached out to Mira who came over and hugged her, wiping at her eyes where no one could see her over Angie’s shoulder; "You and Rollie deserve the best from me, I only hope this can make up a little…"

Angie shook her head and smiled; "There’s no making up for anything, Mira. Now stop that or you’ll make us all cry!"

Mira smiled and beamed as Sarah stepped forward and gushed over the gown. Francis took Angie’s hand for a moment as the two other women talked among themselves, sharing the details of making the gown.

"Rollie is really okay?" Francis asked softly.

"Yeah, he says that Michael has gone, probably for good but I don’t believe that," Angie added, "I just want to go home with Rollie and Aidan and put this behind us. It’s been such a long five months since Pollepel."

"Get this, Angie. They have completely dug up the entire lower levels of that place. All sorts of government spooks and whatnot have been to that place. I heard that the stuff they found there was like a Pandora’s box of information on a lot of things. Of course, I bet we don’t find out anything until we are in our eighties and it won’t matter anymore," Francis said, shaking his head.

"Francis, I just don’t get the whole business of this operation that Michael was in, I mean- they were like in with the government but working above them as well. It scares me to think that we all live with this kind of activity butting in and around our daily lives," Angie remarked and then smiled; "what happened to just cops and robbers?"

"Hey, they’re still here. We aren’t super-notched or cloaked into deep, multi-layered secrets on secrets- we’re just cops and thugs. You know, you break the law…" he was saying as Mira interjected;

"and you’re busted!" she added, gruffly, "We do the work that’s too beneath the Mission-Impossible crowd."

"Well, thank goodness for that!" Angie commented and then grinned; "good old-fashioned police work with a little help from Tyler F/X!"

"Yeah, we don’t need no secret agent men…" chimed in Francis.

"No Foster Grants flashing in the crowd…" added Mira.

They were interrupted by the announcement that Aidan was demanding his mother and Angie, with a slight spring to her step, bade them all goodbye and went to be with her son.

Rollie woke slowly, a new day dawning as he looked over to the window of his room and watched the sunrise with interest. The small, natural details of his sight were welcomed and he smiled as he sat up, ripping the sign down over his bed that read: ‘flat for twenty-four hours’.

Before he could get out of his bed, the door opened and he expected Angie. But seeing the graying, wispy hair and glasses, the tight-lipped expression on his hardened face; he recognized Brabon as he came in slowly and Rollie resigned himself to a visit from the man he still did not trust fully.

"Mr. Tyler, awake and already sitting up, I see."

"That’s right, not a moment later, as far as I’m concerned," retorted Rollie, yawning.

"You adjusted to the night vision in no light exposure?" Brabon asked, taking the small, wand instrument that he had in his pocket and shining it into Rollie’s eyes.

"Yeah, had a visitor who explained some of it, you know him," Rollie answered.

"Yes, Mr. Grant or Michael as you call him…" Brabon responded, going to the other eye as he examined his work.

"Michael, yeah…"

"A very challenging man, I must say. It is a pity that we lost him," Brabon replied, clucking slightly.

"Lost him?" Rollie asked, curiously affected by his words.

"Yes, Mr. Tyler. He was terminated last night. They are cleaning house, I’m afraid. The repercussions from exposing Martens and then sweeping him was not without its consequences."

"Wait, what are you saying?" Rollie asked, pushing Brabon’s hand away that had been holding the wand, "Michael was here last night. How could he be…? He’s done this many times before. I can’t believe that he’s…"

"Dead?" Brabon asked, and then grinned. It was a cold, almost maniacal expression that registered on the old debriefer’s face.