Birkoff slid down deeper into the couch, his long hair falling in his face. With a resigned sigh, he brushed it back. *I wonder if I should have kept the hat on?*

Years of working in section gave him an almost preternatural sense of being watched. Picking up the book, he started reading, gently shifting in case he had to run.

Green eyes focused on the young man reclining on the couch. In a thick sweater, small wire rim glasses, and clutching hot cocoa in one hand, he was a picture of innocence. On soft feet, the green eyed man walked over to the young man. *His hair is longer. Soft.* Leaning over, he brushed the long hair back from the small shell-like ear, "The sequel is better, but really the whole series is bad."

Birkoff startled, jumps, "Michael, is it really you?"

"Yes."

"What about Nikita?"

"We can't live with each other," he turns his head to the side as he lifts Birky's legs and slides underneath them. Laying Birky's legs over his lap, he strokes down the side of the jean-clad leg "and you?" He asks giving his signature half smile

"Computers, of course." Laying the book on a nearby table. "I work with a security firm."

"Hacking files for them?" Michael breathes.

"Yeah. Michael, since you're not with Nikita anymore, and I don't have anywhere to be, can I ask, are you busy today?"

"Why?"

"Well, I'm hungry and wondered if you wanted to go out to eat?"

"My pleasure." With one last stroke of the jean-clad leg, Michael swung them over the edge of the couch and stood up.

Smiling, Birkoff stands up and lays the book back down, "Glad I didn't buy it."

His green eyes twinkling, Michael grabs Seymour's coat. Holding it for him, Michael closes the jacket and zips it up. Leaning over, he flicks the tip of his tongue over Birkoff's ear before pulling up his hood.

Taking a deep breath, Birkoff grabs his hand and pulls him out of the bookstore

Outside with the cold fuzzy snow still coming down, Michael turns to Birkoff "What time do you go to work tomorrow?"