Disclaimers:
Summary:
Warnings:
Notes:
|
"
by
"I want you to be good today, Adam," Michael Pierson told his son as he dropped him off outside of the University daycare. Even though his son had been going to the school for a little over two months, the boy was still having problems. There had been so many upheavals in both of the men's lives that Adam hated being away from his parent. He had already lost his mother and was afraid of the same thing happening to the father that he had just gotten back.
"I will, daddy," the four year old promised, holding back the tears that were threatening to fall. Michael smiled as he took his son into his arms. The normally stoic man, whom people never thought would ever be able to truly show his emotions, melted in the face of his child. His life had changed so much in the past two months, all because of his needing to take care of his son. "You'll come and visit me right?"
"Of course I will, Adam," Michael said. "I'll come back just in time for your lunch. I promise." With that, Michael turned over his young son to the young girl waiting for him. He watched as Michael disappeared into the room that held the other children his son's age.
"I've never seen a child so attached to his parents," a woman said from behind Michael, who continued to look in the direction that his son had just disappeared. "Usually, children love being here, especially after all this time, but Adam just lights up whenever he sees you. He truly loves you."
"He has been through a lot," Michael said solemnly, his emotions hidden once again. The woman, Mrs. Peterson, nodded her head.
"The death of his mother." Michael turned to face the woman in charge of taking care of his son. "That is traumatic for a child. But you're being there for him will help him deal with it." Michael silently thanked the woman, still not quite comfortable with leaving his son but knowing it was what was for the best. Mrs. Peterson watched as the Frenchman left, wondering what it would take for his own heart to mend.
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
Michael watched as the last of his students left his office. As usual, it was one of the many female coeds that peppered his French class. He didn't know it, but his was one of the busiest offices on campus. Not since an extremely popular Anthropology teacher had left has any professor received such devotion. But Michael Pierson never noticed. He didn't have time in his life for worrying about finding someone to care for. He already had someone that he loved, even if they couldn't be together. All Michael cared about was keeping his son safe. He knew there were plenty of people out there that would love to get their hands on Adam, hoping to use him against Michael. When the phone in his office rang, he picked it up absently.
"Pierson," he answered gruffly.
"Mr. Pierson, its Martha Peterson, from the day care." Instantly Michael was on alert. He knew that the day care teacher wouldn't call him unless something had happened.
"Adam?"
"Mr. Pierson, can you come to the day care. Adam's disappeared."
"I'll be right there," Michael stated, hanging up the phone quickly. Michael unlocked his desk drawer and pulled out the gun that was lying there. While Michael wanted a normal life for his son, he knew that there were just some things that he needed to keep both of them protected. Michael put the gun in the waist of his pants, under the jacket that he always wore, and headed to where he son was supposed to be.
When he arrived, he noticed the police cars first. His eyes tried to locate his son, taking in everything around, cataloging it for later. His years of training coming to the forefront as he tried to figure out just what had happened. An uniformed officer came over and blocked him from going any further.
"I'm sorry sir. Only parents are allowed to go any further."
"I'm Michael Pierson," the teacher stated. "My son Adam."
"Its okay, Morgan, you can let him through," the man, obviously in charge, told him. He approached Michael and the Frenchman looked him over. The other man appeared to be about forty years old, slightly balding with dark hair. Michael could tell that the man took care of himself. There was a strictness around him that reminded Michael of him at times. "I'm Detective Jim Ellison."
"Michael Pierson." Neither man made any move to shake hands, both instantly aware that it wasn't required. "Where's my son? What happened?'
"We're still trying to figure that out," Jim answered, all businesslike. There was something about Pierson that told Jim not to lie to him. That Pierson would instantly recognize it for what it was. "We got a call from a Mrs. Martha Peterson stating that a man picked up your son as he stood by the fence of the school yard." Jim pointed over to an area.
"What do you mean, picked him up?" Jim watched as Michael looked around, taking in every detail. The way that he was doing it made Jim think that Michael had experience in dealing with these types of things and wondered about the other man.
"According to witnesses, Adam was playing with some of the other children. They were standing by the fence. Then a man came and simply picked him up and carried him away."
"What did he look like?" Michael refused to let emotion into his voice, but Jim knew from personal experience that it was because the other man knew it wouldn't help his son. Jim looked down at his notes, reading off of them.
"A Caucasian male, about six foot five, a hundred sixty to a hundred eighty pounds," Jim read off. "He was wearing a pair of denim blue jeans and what appeared to be an army fatigue jacket."
"How did he get away?"
"We're not sure," Jim admitted. "My partner is looking into that right now." Just as he was saying that, Michael noticed another man walking towards them. This man was the complete opposite of Jim Ellison. Where as Ellison looked like the basic hard-nosed cop, the other man had long curly hair and what appeared to be two earrings in his ear.
"Michael Pierson, this is my partner, Detective Blair Sandburg." At the mention of the other man's name, Michael felt a glimmer of recognition. For some reason, he knew he should know the other detective. And he hadn't missed the way that Ellison had said the name. While it would have sounded professional to anyone else, Michael knew first hand what it was like having to keep emotions hidden from others. Ellison and Sandburg were involved, but he didn't care. Not as long as they found his son, or stayed out of his way as he did it.
"Detective Sandburg," Michael nodded in greeting. "Have you discovered anything about my son?" Blair looked from Michael to his partner. "I'm sorry, Mr. Pierson, but we haven't found him yet," Blair answered. "We did get a good description on the car he used to get away in. It was a blue 1969 Volkswagen Van. Someone did get the plate number and we're running it now." Michael didn't do anything. "Don't worry, sir. We will find your son."
"Thank you. If you'll excuse me a moment." Without even waiting for the detectives to answer, Michael walked away, taking his phone out of his pocket. He dialed a number that he knew from memory. "Nikita, I need your help."
La Femme Nikita is the property of USA Network.
The Sentinel is the property of Pet Fly Productions.
All series, movies and characters are the properties of their respective owners. No infringement of those rights is intended. All fics on this site are the copyrighted property of their respective authors.
Site and design copyright © the other g.m.
All Rights Reserved.
