She rounded the corner to Madeline's office and raised her hand to knock on the door, which was slightly ajar. Before her knuckles made contact with the smooth metal, however, the door swung back on its hinges and Operations stood before her. Nikita quickly peered past him and was shocked to realize he was alone in Madeline's office. Operations smiled his usual, oily smile.

"Nikita. Come in."

Nikita quickly ducked past him, feeling very much like a mouse running in front of a snake about to strike.

"Have a seat." Operations said, motioning towards an ominous black chair. Nikita sat down, but remained at the edge, posed to run at any moment.

"What's this all about?" she demanded.

Ops closed the door and absently paced the floor, turning the words over in his mind carefully. "Madeline's been injured."

A look of concern crossed Nikita's face. "Is she alright?"

Ops paused for a moment. "No... She isn't all right. She'll be in MedLab for a long time, I'm afraid."

"How awful." Nikita was surprised by the sense of horror she felt at the news. "What... happened?"

"There was an accident. A mission was compromised. But that doesn't matter." Ops said quickly. "What matters is why you are here."

"And why AM I here?" Nikita asked pointedly, becoming very confused.

"Over the past few months, Nikita, you have shown great progress, and I believe you are fit to take over."

"Take over?"

"Yes. I want you to fill in for Madeline while she's out of commission."

Nikita shook her head doubtfully. "I don't know..."

"You have no choice. You are the only operative trained and capable for the job."

"What do I do?"

"Report to my office tomorrow morning. We'll begin intensive training."

"I can't kill as Madeline does. You, of all people should know that."

Ops looked at Nikita with compasssionless eyes. "Then you will learn."

***********FOUR WEEKS LATER**************

"Do you have a minute?"

Nikita glanced up from her computer momentarily at the sound of Michael's voice before returning to the profiles running down her screen. "Come in."

Michael stepped into the office and shut the door carefully behind him. "Are we being watched?"

Nikita turned emotionless eyes toward him. "No. Operations has no need to watch me. You can speak freely."

Michael slowly lowered himself into a chair facing Nikita's desk. "You aren't yourself lately..."

Nikita pretended not to hear his comment, merely gazed at him without recognition. "Have you read over the profiles from the HELIX interrogation?"

Michael leaned forward, his fingertips brushing her cheek gently before she pulled away from him. "I can't lose you again." his whisper was intensely haunted.

"If you'll excuse me, I need to return to the WhiteRoom." Nikita abruptly rose from her desk. "I trust you can find your own way out?" she finished off, coldly.

Michael rose with her, his eyes steadily fixated on hers. "You can't shake me Nikita. I'm part of you."

Nikita turned her eyes from him and strode towards the door without replying. Michael could tell he'd hit home. She paused before exiting.

"It can never be the way it was," she said quietly before slipping from his sight.

***********LATER THAT DAY*************

"You've shown much improvement, Nikita. Your performance is more than satisfactory." Operations smiled at her as she exited the White Room. Nikita said nothing. "I don't believe he is going to give any more information. He is resisiting our methods... I'm surprised by his will."

"That is quite alright. We have extracted all the information we need. You can finish him."

The pair walked toward Nikita's office in comfortable silence. Before reaching the door, Operations turned to Nikita, his gaze open and inviting. "I'm inviting you to meet me in the tower this evening. I think we should celebrate your progress."

Nikita turned away from him, reaching for the handle of her office door. "I don't think that would be a good idea." She said evenly, unable to meet his gaze.

Operations took a step back, away from her. "It is just an invitation. I will be there should you change your mind."

With no further prodding or explanation, he turned and walked down the corridor.

**********THAT SAME EVENING************

The loud *pop* of the champagne bottle cork echoed against the vaulted ceiling of the tower's sitting room as Operations filled two crystal glasses. Outside the sun setting, bleeding beautiful reds and golds into the blue night sky.

The fire crackled in the hearth, and in the next room, the covers were turned down on a plush, satin-covered bed. It was the perfect setting for a romantic rendezvous.

Ops looked over the extravagent dinner he'd had catered for this evening. Swordfish, lobster, caviar... he wanted everything to be perfect. He was lost in thought when his musing was interrupted by a soft knock at the door. He anxiously strode toward the door.

"The creme broulee you ordered, sir...." a tuxedo-ed bellboy-of-sorts stood in the doorway with a covered tray. Operations took it from him and dismissed him thoughtlessly. He set the dish next to the rest of the feast for the evening's festivities. It was beginning to look as if Nikita was going to stick by her decision. It baffled him. No woman had ever been able to resist him... his power...