"Be careful what you ask for, how many times have I said that?" Nikita muttered to herself, wondering what Pandora's Box she had opened now. She shouldered her gun for a minute, searching the dark corridor for the anomaly she knew was there. She knew it was there because she had put it there. It was Michael's unconscious body.

When he was captured by Red Cell operatives, Michael had been pumped full of mind-altering drugs. Unlike another time when he was rendered amnesiac, Michael knew who he was, but under the influence of this particularly powerful truth serum, he was compelled to tell the truth. According to what intel she had been able to wrest from the doctor holding Michael captive, Michael would be vulnerable to this drug for another hour or two at most. Her mouthtightened as she recalled shooting the good doctor for the torture he had inflicted upon Michael while waiting for his drugs to work their magic. Michael would have been proud, she thought to herself. Now if I can only get him out of here safely, without being discovered by Red Cell or Section, she pondered.

She threw herself down to the ground when she heard footsteps and grabbed her gun, automatically pointing it at the shadow that appeared in the doorway. When she realized that it was Michael, she sighed with relief. "Glad to see you're awake."

He rubbed the back of his head and winced. "I've got a hell of a headache."

"You will, for some time yet." She knelt on the ground and repositioned her weapon. Michael held out a hand to help her up, and she stood, facing him. "Come with me." Michael followed her quickly, and they made their way out of the darkened maze of corridors without encountering operatives from either camp.

When they hit the street, the waning light was still enough to make Michael's head throb, and he stopped for a moment, feeling unfocused by the pain. Nikita grabbed him by the arm and literally pulled him into the car she had waiting. Without speaking, they traveled the short distance to Nikita's apartment. Praying that Mick Stoppel was somehow otherwise occupied, Nikita flew up the stairs, Michael close behind her.

Once inside, Nikita unzipped her black mission jacket and threw it aside. She pulled off her hat, uncovering her long blonde hair, and waltzed into the tiny kitchen area. "Perhaps a cup of coffee?" Michael glared at her through bleary eyes. "If I drink anything, it's liable to come right back up."

"Oh, is that a polite way of saying you feel sick at your stomach?" Nikita knew she was procrastinating. There were so many things she wanted to know, and she had the means to find them out. Right now. It both excited and scared her. Of course, there was the obvious question. But there were countless other things she wanted or needed to know. And she had just one hour. Maybe.

PART TWO.....

Michael made his way to Nikita's couch and lay down. "I don't plan on moving until the drugs are out of my system."

"Suit yourself!" She shrugged, and to all intents and purposes, it probably looked as if she could not care less that Michael was vulnerable to truth serum.

He ran his hands through his hair, wincing as the movement brought more pain to his head. Nikita sat on the edge of the couch, as if poised for flight. "Michael, the drugs they gave you? It was a form of truth serum, right?" She was only confirming what the late doctor had told her. Michael nodded, then grimaced.

"So if I asked you something, you would have to tell the truth..." she said, playing with a button on the couch. "Yes," he admitted, abruptly realizing that what she said was quite true. He had just tried to evade her simplest of questions, but to no avail. "Resistance is futile," he said, laughing darkly to himself. Nikita smiled secretly. This might be enlightening.

"Let's start with something easy."

"Define easy." Michael was looking at Nikita in open admiration of her control and her calm. She had matured into an excellent operative. But then, he had trained her. He felt like laughing at the irony.

"Be kind," he added, trying to appeal to her humanity. She smiled enigmatically and crossed her arms over her chest. "Why should I? You aren't, are you?" Unaware that she had inadvertently asked a question that Michael would feel compelled to answer, she missed the telling glance on Michael's face. He looked up at the ceiling for a moment, then said, "No, I am not a kind man, Nikita. And to make it worse, I can't even pretend that I want to be." He laughed shortly. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

She got up suddenly and opened the refrigerator, taking out a pitcher of iced tea. She poured a glass for herself, swigged it down as if it were hard liquor, and then leaned on the counter with both elbows. "Michael, when you were here several months ago, during the Gemstone mission...what were you really thinking when you shoved me up against the refrigerator?" She looked down at her hands and examined them carefully, not sure what she expected to hear.

Michael sighed. "A harder question." He sat up slowly, then crossed to where Nikita was. He began pushing her backwards, until she could go no further, then suddenly hoisted her up against the refrigerator door. "You mean, when I did this?" He closed the distance between them like quicksilver and when their faces nearly touched, he stopped. He searched her face, not unlike that day, and he played with her hair, as he often did, just before he touched her face.

"Michael..." she said warningly, "you must answer the question." He blinked for a second. "I was remembering."

She nodded. "And?"

"And I was...angry." She coaxed him again, seeing that despite the strength of the drugs in his system, he was clearly fighting having to answer truthfully.

"Because?"

"Because you were pushing me away...and I wanted you to trust me. No, I needed you to trust me." He corrected himself, slightly in awe of the power of the drug that influenced him. He really hadn't wanted to admit that.

PART THREE.....

"Why was it so important that I trust you?"

"Because we were all going to go down with Section."

"That's the simple answer, Michael. I want the personal answer."

He looked away from her and chuckled. "I know. I don't want to tell you." He laughed. "And that is the truth."

"But you will."

He rocked back against the counter and smiled wearily. "Yes, I will. Fighting the drug takes too much effort." He paused. "I remember thinking, you were going to die without ever knowing that I cared."

"Yet when I refused to run, you knew that I would probably be cancelled. You said so."

He nodded solemnly, his eyes fixed on Nikita's face. "Yes," he whispered.

She laughed harshly. "But you walked away, Michael, you walked away! You left me alone with the fear and the waiting..."

"What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to tell me the truth. Why did you walk away instead of staying with me then?"

"You'd think it was because of Elena and Adam, wouldn't you? Knowing what you know now?" But answering a question with a question would not satisfy the damned drug still working on him. He cursed loudly. Standing next to Nikita was not helping either. With this much truth serum in his blood, he felt curiously disinhibited. He was afraid that he might act on his feelings, and that frightened him. It was the only thing that still did.

"I couldn't stay. I did have to go back home. Because of the mission." He averted his eyes, wondering at the futility of even trying to escape the truth. "But I wanted to. And...if you had been cancelled, I would have gone straight out on the next mission and walked into a bullet."

He threw up his hands finally, grinning at Nikita. "Pretty funny, huh?" He walked over to the couch and sat, head in his hands.

She sat down next to him, taking his hands in hers. "No, it's not."

"Michael--"

"Go ahead, ask away. I'm powerless to resist." He looked defeated, as if only by keeping his secrets, he could exist. "When I was with Jurgen..."

Michael groaned. "You're killing me." She said, deliberately, perhaps wanting to hurt him, just a little, as he had hurt her, more than once. "We were lying right on this couch, Michael. I was just about to take my blouse off--"

Michael cut her off. "You would never have made love to him, Nikita! He was all wrong for you!"

"We'll never know, will we? You called me in, and interrupted our only chance to be together."

"Were you really jealous?" she whispered. He closed his eyes.

"I was."

"How did you know we were about to make love?" Michael winced at her choice of words. "Can't we just call it an educated guess and leave it at that?" She shook her head. He sighed. "I was across the street, watching you...waiting..."

"Michael!" She looked surprised. "You know, it is funny, now that you mention it...Jurgen had your number, Michael. He knew you better than you know yourself." She looked haunted, remembering Jurgen's throaty rasp and what he had told her about herself and Michael.

"Jurgen told me that you loved me." She looked straight into Michael's eyes and could tell the exact instant when the truth serum reacted. His pupils dilated even more and his eyes now looked more black than grey.

He stared at her, trying to maintain his unreadable facade, but it was no use. He could feel the emotional response he was trying to hold back in his throat, his chest, and his arms. "That's not a question," he said brokenly.

Nikita smiled. "He said that he could learn to love me, but without me in his life, he could go on. But he didn't think you could."

"I've already admitted that much."

"Michael, you're taking this as some sort of personal challenge. I don't want to fight with you over every word. I just want answers."

He got up and paced. "Michael, why did you push me away after you lost Elena and Adam?"

He glanced at her in real pain now, and Nikita almost relented. But she could not. This opportunity would never come along again. "Which answer would you like? There is more than one."

She came up behind him and held him, her arms reaching around his chest. She leaned her head on his back, and she felt his muscles contract, as if he wanted to run. "Michael...tell me."

"Because you said you were my friend," he said, in a choked voice, "and I didn't want friendship from you." He laughed bitterly. "How's that for irony? I had just lost my wife and my son and my reason to live, and all I could think was, you wanted to be friends."

"Was that so wrong?"

"Wrong!" he barked at her. "Do you have any idea how guilty I felt, because I didn't miss Elena as much as I missed you?"

"It's okay, Michael." She stroked the back of his neck. "No, it's not okay. I've hurt you over and over, Kita. You think I don't know that? You asked me how I could live with the deception? It's what I do! It's what I am! I don't even know if I'm real anymore! I'm an illusion, a shadow--"

"A ghost?" she said softly, turning him to face her. He was pale beneath his tan. The drugs were still there, but fading. She might never get to hear what she wanted most, but somehow, she felt that this was more important. He nodded carefully, clearly afraid to speak.

PART FIVE.......

He shuddered, his breath coming in hard gasps. He bolted for the bathroom, and the last of the drugs came up the hard way. Nikita held his head as he heaved, until there was nothing left but dry retching. Soon, even that gave way to the occasional hiccup. He rinsed his mouth without meeting the eyes of his reflection in the mirror. Michael looked truly haunted when he came up for air. Nikita grabbed a washcloth from the towel rack and wet it with cool water. "Come and lie down, Michael. This will help." She told him to lie down on the bed, and he did. She was leaning over to apply the wet compress to his forehead when his arm suddenly shot out and grabbed her wrist. "What?"

Michael pulled her down to him and kissed her. "Here's an answer you didn't ask for yet, Kita. You asked me once, why did you go to so much trouble to bring me back?" He kissed her gently, his lips lingering sweetly on hers. "For this." He fondled her cheek. "For me." He forced her hair back over her ear and kissed the exposed side of her face. "No other reason."

"Michael, you don't have to contiue. I know the drugs are out of your system now. I'm sorry I tried to manipulate you into telling me things you really don't want me to know. It wasn't right for me to take advantage." Nikita looked appropriately chagrined. Michael smiled. "Don't stop now, Kita." He whispered into her ear, "There's more." She giggled, she couldn't help it.

"Must be an aftereffect of the truth serum, Michael. I've never seen you kid around about anything."

"Oh, I'm not kidding," he said in all seriousness, with a curious gleam in his eye.

She tried to get up, but Michael pulled her back down and into his arms. "I'm not letting you go."

"Michael..."

"Be careful what you wish for, Kita, you just might get it." He kissed her until he felt her finally respond, albeit reluctantly. "What?"

Nikita looked miserable. "What's the point of pretending like this, Michael? You need me, you want me, but you can't tell me what I need to hear most."

"And this would be why?" He looked directly into her face, stroking her cheek with the back of his hand.

"You don't have the truth serum in your blood anymore, Michael."

"I know. But if I did, what would you want to hear?"

"You know..." Nikita squirmed uncomfortably in his arms. "That you...love me."

He nodded, his eyes softening to translucent grey. He continued to stroke her face gently, staring up at her as if he could not see enough. "I do love you, Kita."

"You're just saying that."

"Now who needs the truth serum?" He laughed.

Nikita closed her eyes in response. Michael kissed her eyelids, one by one, and the sweetest feeling came over Nikita. "Oh, Michael, I wish it were true," she whispered. "Nikita, my sweet, brave Nikita...why would you believe me if I had taken truth serum, but not now?"

"Because you've lied to me before." She couldn't meet his gaze, feeling the magnetic pull, but willing herself to resist.

"Not about this." He nuzzled her neck, then took her mouth, swallowing her gasp of surprise.

She suddenly realized he was right. He had avoided telling her what she most wanted to hear. He had occasionally referred to it indirectly during a mission. But he had never told her he loved her as himself. "As insubstantial as our lives are in Section, this is what feels real to me. You make me real again." He searched her eyes, finally finding what he looked for, and at last, relaxed against her.

"Michael?"

"Yes?" He smiled against her mouth, tickling her until she giggled.

"I'm going to report you for cruel and unusual punishment."

He laughed outright, then licked her ear. "Oh, please."

"Well, perhaps I could be persuaded to change my mind..." Nikita pretended to ponder.

"I'll see what I can do." He kissed her, and Nikita pulled the covers over both of them.

This story © Copyright 1999, Jade