He stared vacantly at the television screen as yet another animated program had squirmed it's way into his life thanks to Mikhail.  He watched the boy intently for a few more minutes before rising from the sofa, his muscles aching from the jog he'd had earlier in the morning.  Damn Sherele.  She'd made it a point to keep an eye on him while she was in Hawaii, and she wasn't going to let him have a moments rest.  Eyes narrowed as socked feet lead him to the refrigerator and the note that was taped against it's stainless steel shell.  Damn it.  She'd made out another one of those... lists, and cursing silently he tore it from the 'fridge and balled it into a neat little mass of crumpled paper.  If he didn't get Mason involved soon...  Sherele was going to kill him.  Frowning, he pulled open the door to the cold storage and was met with nothingness.  No meats.  No cheeses.  No caffiene.  Growl.  He slammed the door shut and turned before padding back to the living room.

"Mikhail?"

His voice went unheard as the boy drowned himself in the flickering television.

"Mikhail!"

The boy jumped and turned to face his 'uncle' with a look of subtle fear gleaming in those delicately innocent blue eyes.  It stung him to see the boy look at him in such a way, and when he sat, he beckoned him to come over with a pat of his hand on the cushion next to him.  After he'd seated himself, Mikhail looked up at him and frowned.  Vicktor could nearly sense the wariness that rolled off of him in waves and with a gentle sigh, he wrapped an arm about those small shoulders and pulled him into a tight hug against his side.

"Do you want Ms. Sherele to come visit?"

The boy frowned and shrugged.

"You don't like her?" 

He shrugged again and set about to fiddling with a loose string on his shirt.

"Mikhail..."

Vicktor dropped a right hand atop the child's fidgeting fingers to still them and frowned himself.  It was strange seeing him act in such a way.  Especially since Sherele had become like a mother to the boy.  Confused, he shifted so that he was more or less facing Mikhail, his hands gently caressing the boy's own.

"Why don't you want her to come...?"

"Because..."  The small voice broke as tears flooded his cheeks.

"Because...  then you go away and don't come back til' the next day... Just like..."

Just like your father.  The child didn't have to say it, but Vicktor knew what his life had been like... which was one of the reasons he'd adopted the boy in the first place.  And you could bet your last damn dollar that he didn't want to fall into the same category as his dead-beat dad.  Sighing, he shook his head and pulled Mikhail into another loving hug, rubbing at his back softly.

"I have to work, Mikhail... you must understand this.  I am not leaving you because I want to...  but because if I don't, how will I ever provide and protect you?"

A flash of realization sparked in the boy's eyes for a split second before he let them fall to the floor.  Slowly nodding, he pulled away and went back to his previous place on the floor and resumed his viewing of whatever television program it was that had taken his attention.  It hurt.  Badly.  But he had to teach the child what it meant to be by himself since there may come a time when he'd not be there to take care of him, and Sherele... no matter how eccentric and bossy she may be, would always be his first choice when it came to someone taking his place.  Swallowing thickly, he rose and headed off into the bedroom to dress... and make a phone call.  Well, two actually.

Sherele had been notified that her assistance was required and after a short lecture on the delicate touch that was needed with Mikhail, he hung up and flipped open his cellular device.  Grin.  Well, this was work after all.  Glancing at the piece of folded paper that had been given to him by his intelligence officer, he quickly dialed the number and listened to the electronic humming until the voicemail retrieved the call.  Damn it.  He'd hoped to speak to her directly, but unfortunately... this would have to do.  He left her a message and ended the call before dressing himself to the nines.  Always look your best... no matter the reason.

Sherele had arrived just as he finished clothing himself in expensive finery and once he exited, he quickly avoided the series of questions that were flung at him from his pink haired intelligence officer.  Yes.  No.  Maybe.  It was all he'd give her and once he exited the suite, he could hear her muted curses and explicit remarks about him through the thick door.  Well...  He'd have to have a little talk with her about language around the child.  Smirking, he stuffed his keys in his pocket and made for the lobby and the limosuine that was waiting paitently for him outside. 

Today would be interesting...

That was damn certain.