“I think you will,” Operations replied, a smile never reaching his eyes, frosty with glare.

Oversight did not automatically strike fear into Michael’s heart, the way it so obviously affected Madeline and Operations. Michael had friend's in Oversight, something neither Operations nor Madeline knew, though they might suspect much. Word had just come down that George wanted peer reviews done onall of Section One’s operatives. Michael had no problem with George. It was what Operations wanted Michael to do that made Michael’s skin crawl.

George had left the determination of who would be tested by whom to chance, letting the computer select randomly, and as luck would have it, Michael was to interrogate Nikita, using Walter’s Invasive Testing set-up.

Michael glared back at Operations, abruptly grabbing the PDA out of Operations’ hands. “All right,” Michael agreed, “but we do it my way.”

“Which is?” Operations inquired with a sneer.

“I will test Nikita, but there must be no one there but myself and Nikita.”

“Nice try, Michael, but I don’t think so.” Operations laughed shortly. He had his own thoughts about Michael’s friends in high places, but really, sometimes Michael could be so amusing.

“Walter would, of course, be present to work the machine.” Michael continued to stare down Operations.

“Of course,” Operations said. “But who will keep him honest? I know you are perfectly capable of intimidating Walter, Michael, let’s be real about this, shall we?”

Michael sighed in exasperation. “You have the room under surveillance, Operations, or did you forget that?”

“True,” he smirked. “Very well, I agree to your terms, Michael. But no tricks.”

Michael half-smiled. “Of course,” he whispered huskily.

Nikita looked nervous as she was led into the testing chamber. She had been here before, three times before. Twice, she had come through without difficulty, because she had no reason to lie, and testing proved this. The third time, she used extraordinary measures that Adrian had foisted upon her, and testing proved inconclusive. A mystery that would have remained a mystery,had the end game been played out differently.

The thought of facing Michael as her interrogator did nothing to alleviate Nikita’s fears and anxieties. Michael looked unreadable. Walter kept glancing up at Michael, as if he were waiting for him to bite his head off. But Michael said nothing yet. Nikita was strapped into the chair as electrodes were applied to her forehead. Michael sat on the edge of the table, quite casually, and asked Walter to turn on the machine. Walter did so, and there was an immediate electronic hiss.

Michael sounded calm. “What is your name?”

“Nikita,” she answered in a reasonable semblance of her normal voice.

“When were you born?”

Nikita blinked. She didn’t know the exact date. She was an orphan. She stared at Michael in disbelief.

Michael repeated the question. Nikita stammered, “I don’t know.”

Walter looked anxiously at Michael. “She’s telling the truth.”

Michael merely smiled. “I know.”

He then turned to Walter and said, “I would prefer that you leave us alone, Walter.”

Walter flinched at the sharp change in tone, but nodded. “You, uh, know how to work this thing?” Michael smiled again, but coldly. “Of course.”

Walter turned at the door and said, “But what about--?” He glanced upwards and indicated the upper levels, where he imagined Operations to be monitoring them.

“Birkoff is...doing me a favor,” said Michael blandly, without a trace of irony visible.

Walter gulped and exited as quickly as possible. If there were to be no witnesses, there would be none.

Michael turned his attentions back to Nikita. “Nikita,” he said softly, I am going to ask you some questions.” He came closer to the observation window. “I will know if you lie...so you will tell me the truth.”

Nikita nodded. She had never seen this side of Michael, and she was damned sure she didn’t like it. He was colder than he had ever been before, and she felt a chill run down her spine.

“Nikita,” he said, even more softly than the first time. “What is your earliest recollection of your mother?”

She winced. Michael’s expression did not change. “My m-mother?” She couldn’t help herself. She felt tears start in her eyes, but she could not wipe them away because her hands were restrained. “My mother was...”

Michael came even closer to the glass. “A hooker, Nikita?”

She nodded silently. “I can’t hear you, Nikita.” She spoke, pain coloring her thready voice. “Yes.”

She closed her eyes. “Was it hard, Nikita? Being passed around to your mother’s boyfriends?” Her eyes flew open. “What kind of testing is this? Whyare you so interested in what my life was like as a child?”

Michael shrugged. “Curiosity.”

She burned, oh God, she burned, wanting to tear off her restraints and fly at Michael. “Yes, Michael, I was the byblow of some hooker, raised on thestreets, drinking and using drugs. You know all this, why are you torturing me like this?”

“You know I can’t tell you that.” Michael’s voice remained non-committal.

“I demand to know what’s going on here!” Nikita was nearing her breaking point. She was frustrated and focused on what seemed to be Michael’s intensely personal attack.

Michael stepped back and glanced at the monitor. He crossed his arms and stood at ease. He looked at Nikita, then adjusted something on the monitor. He walked to the glass again. “Nikita, we’re alone now. You can tell me what it was like.”

Nikita froze as Michael’s hand crept slowly up the glass and then stopped, directly in front of her face. He looked at her, grey eyes flicking back and forth for a moment, then resting on her finally. “Please...this can be over quickly.” His eyes looked sad for a moment. “I don’t want to hurt you anymore...”

He closed his eyes for a second, whispering “This is hurting me, too, Kita.”

Nikita blinked away the unshed tears and swallowed. “Michael...” He opened his eyes and they met Nikita’s dead-on. What she saw there, ever so briefly, took her breath away. She could not refuse now.

“It was bad, you know that.” She lay her head back, remembering bits and pieces of the patchwork that was her early memory. Her mouth worked for a moment, then she spoke again. “My mother wasn’t a bad woman, she was sick...and she made me sick, too. Sometimes I dunno how I managed to survive without becoming--”

“Like me?” Michael asked softly.

“Less than human,” she finished, seeing the pain flash across Michael’s face so quickly, she thought she imagined it.

“And if Section hadn’t found you?”

“You mean, if you hadn’t found me.” Nikita looked directly at Michael. “You saved me, Michael.”

“Did I? I always wondered.” Michael frowned, as if remembering something himself. “I became your captor.”

“Yes, but after what I’d been through...” Michael winced in reaction. Nikita continued, her voice ragged with emotion. “I thought I would never be able to be with a man again.” His head came up sharply. “You can’t give me credit for that, Nikita. Section trained you to do things--”

“Regardless of how I felt. I know.” Was Michael even aware that they were now finishing each other’s thoughts? She felt him searching her face, through the glass, and she wished that it were not there.

“But I never thought I would be able to trust again, Michael.” Michael leaned against the glass, his eyes softening as they fell on Nikita’s tear-stained face.

“You do trust me, Kita? After all the lies and manipulations...” His hand caressed the glass as if he were touching Nikita, and Nikita felt it physically. “Yes,” she whispered. “I still do.”

“Your heart is still intact,” he said, not sure if it was a question or a statement. Nikita struggled to release her hand and finally succeeded, reaching out to Michael’s, placing her hand over his through the glass. Michael looked at both their hands, then at her, his face looking curiously unguarded for long moments. “You tell me, Michael.”

“It is,” he breathed. He opened the glass between them, his hands almost awkward in their hurry to get to her. He released the other restraint carefully, looking down at Nikita all the while. He peeled the electrodes off with his thumb, discarding them on the floor. Nikita stood up shakily, facing Michael. They looked at each other for several seconds without moving, then Nikita felt Michael sway in her direction, as if he couldn’t help himself.

He stroked her hair back from her face, letting his fingers gently graze her cheek, then her mouth. Nikita stood, transfixed. Was this a dream? It felt unreal. If it was a part of the test, she thought she would die right there. But somehow, she knew it wasn’t. Michael lowered his gaze to her mouth and kissed her softly. “Thank you.”

Her arms involuntarily crept around Michael’s neck, and inch by inch, she moved closer, until she could lay her head on his shoulder. She closed her eyes. Michael felt her warmth enter his soul like a physical presence and sighed. “Kita?”

She looked up at him, almost shivering at the intensity in Michael’s eyes, darkened now to charcoal. “Yes?” she said, so softly he almost didn’t hear.

“You saved me,” he whispered to her, what frayed humanity he had left in his eyes. He hugged her tightly, and Nikita could not speak. Their eyes met again, and she knew it was true. She had saved him. From whatever hell he had created for himself here at Section. She was the only thing that kept him from going out on a mission, never to return.

Operations glanced at Madeline. “The testing went well. Boring, predictable, even. Our two best operatives, and this is the best they could come up with?” He held up the PDA Birkoff had given him, holding the test results on Nikita and Michael.

Madeline smiled enigmatically. “Michael was unaware that he was the actual subject of the test, then?”

Operations smirked. “Of course.” He snorted. “I knew he would get rid of Walter to save Nikita embarrassment. That was a given.”

Madeline smiled again, congratulating Operations on his astute reading of his people. When Operations had left her office, she keyed up her computer.

“Birkoff, you did well.” Birkoff nodded silently and signed off. She sat back in her chair and relaxed, her smile reflected in her warm brown eyes. Michael had done as she told him, gone to Birkoff for help in covering his real session with Nikita. She was on his side. She always had been. But that information was on a strictly need to know basis. And as far as Madeline was concerned, Operations didn’t need to know. She laughed softly.

This story © Copyright 1999, Jade