e mission van, but she knew this time felt different. This time, she felt alone, she felt as if she had been abandoned, and she knew why. She had not had another single moment alone with Michael, and she was so certain that this mission would go badly. She didn’t care about her own life, but she worried about what might happen to Michael. She thought that he needed her, in his own way, and she thought losing someone else might be the final blow. It could light the fuse to his anger, and once unleashed, it would be truly something to see.

She was afraid it would destroy Michael, and of course, if Michael went down, he would make sure he took Section down with him. Operations might think he had carefully planned everything, but he didn’t know how deep Michael’s true feelings ran. She only had mere suspicions herself, but she knew Michael’s anger was formidable. She shivered with reaction.

She piled her hair into a topknot and snapped an ornate comb into place. She checked her makeup carefully, knowing that only moments before, she had been close to tears. Well, Operations was not going to see her weak and tearful, not if she could help it, anyways. She was just so tired. She needed someone to lean on, herself, all her energies had been hard spent on protecting Michael, now she had no reserves left.

When Nikita strode out of the mission van, she looked every inch the stunning woman she could be. Dressed in a sequined red floor-length gown, Nikita sparkled as only she could. Twin diamond earrings clung to her earlobes, adding to the shimmering effect she created. A diamond lavaliere, hanging to her waist, drew the eye naturally down the slender curves of her athletically toned body. She thumbed her com link on, unobtrusively, and she was somewhat reassured to hear Birkoff’s voice. “I’m inside,” she said quietly, seemingly to no one.

Birkoff acknowledged her response and gave further directions for entering the towering hotel, where intel said the terrorist leader could be found. Nikita swung idly down the hall of the large building, entering a huge but intriguingly lit dining area. Stopping at the bar, she ordered tonic water with lemon. She was not about to start drinking, no matter how much she felt like it.

She saw several possibles in the dining area, and she casually surveyed the room, trying not to linger on any one figure too long. Birkoff’s voice continued to chirp in her ear, and she soon located her quarry. A tallish man with light brown hair, sitting in the darkest corner. Not too terrible-looking, she appraised. Nikita refused to let her thoughts go any further, she knew she was in danger of losing her focus. She moved in swiftly, and the man seemed surprised, but interested.

“You are extraordinary.” He looked her over with an avidness that made her insides crawl.

“Nikita,” she said, introducing herself.

“Ah,” he nodded, “an exotic name for an exotic flower.” She pretended to be flattered and wondered how much of this she could stand. He grabbed her wrist, lightly, and Nikita tapped his hand gently with one finger. “Now, now, no bruises,” she warned. He smiled at her, seemingly taken in by her goodtime girl act. But what could she do to convince him to let her hang around? Her PDA had been curiously vague about that part of the mission, and she had no idea how she was going to pique this one’s interest.

A few drinks later, Nikita had her target firmly in hand, and they stood outside the door of his hotel room. They entered together, and the target groped her drunkenly, managing to fall on top of her as they approached the bed. Nikita sighed in relief as she heard him begin to snore. She gently shifted his body off of hers, and stood up, taking a careful look around the room. She headed for the bathroom and activated her com link to Michael. “Michael?”

Michael came alive when he heard Nikita’s voice. “Are you okay?” he asked, knowing how much he was out of character just by asking that question. “Of course,” she replied huskily.

“I don’t think that there will be a problem tonight,” she said carefully, hoping that Michael could read between the lines. He could, and he did. “Good, Nikita, stay in position.”

Chapter 5

There were three things Michael didn’t like about this mission: Predaker, Operations’ glee in setting up the situation, and the idea of Nikita sleeping with anyone but him. Scarier still was the lack of intel available on the man’s specific sexual interests. While it might not alarm Nikita, alone in her ignorance, of what a Valentine Op might need to do, it terrified Michael. He knew that Walter had felt it, too, that frisson of cold shivering up the spine that foretold danger. Or worse. Nikita didn’t know it, but there were worse things than death. Being left alive after certain missions was one of them.

He listened to the open channel. Nothing but static right now. Even Birkoff had quieted down to the occasional message. They had nothing to do but wait now. Michael folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the wall of the adjoining room. He looked half-asleep, but in reality, he was tense and more than ready to move.

Nikita glanced over at the man snoring on the bed. He really didn’t look terribly dangerous, but even from her limited experience, she knew that meant nothing. Looks could be so deceiving. Why, look at her,she thought, she looked in control, but inside, she was trembling. She eyed her reflection in the bathroom mirror and noticed her hands were visibly shaking. She sighed. This was tough,but she would do whatever she had to do to survive.

She slid into the bed beside the sleeping terrorist, praying desperately that he did not awaken and become amorous, even though it was the reason she was here. She felt Predaker’s breath on her and stilled. He rolled over and away from her and she relaxed momentarily. She carefully ripped her gown in a few places, so that Predaker would assume that he had been with her, even if he were too drunk to remember.

She slept fitfully next to the target and tried not to let her imagination run away with her. Meanwhile, Michael waited alone in silence, cursing Operations for sending them on this kind of mission together. To say it was torture was understatement of the worst kind.

Predaker woke early in the morning and, being a man of normally voracious appetites, smiled at the prize he hadcaptured the night before. She was a truly stunning woman, this blonde. Better than some of the rest he had had. He saw that her gown was ripped at the neckline and frowned. He didn’t usually get so carried away the first time. His face cleared abruptly. No matter. What lay ahead for her would change all that.

He poked her rudely, and Nikita opened her eyes, barely remembering to smile appealingly. “Hey, no bruises, remember?” she said half-seriously.

Predaker smiled patronizingly. “Of course. We shouldn’t mar a skin as lovely as yours.” Michael came abruptly awake with Predaker’s voice echoing in his ears.

“Birkoff,” he called softly via com link. “Are you getting this?”

After Birkoff answered affirmatively, Michael said,“Perimeter teams move in and hold your positions.” He didn’t want to wait any longer, but he had no choice. Nikita needed more time to gather the intel. They couldn’t just take out Predaker.

Predaker placed his large hands on Nikita’s hips and moved familiarly against her body. She closed her eyes and tried to think of something else. Michael. Michael was the first thing that flew into her anxious mind. But it was hard to block out Predaker. He was very fit for an older man, and more than strong enough to snap her neck if she resisted his advances.

Michael listened to Predaker’s harsh breathing and knew what was going down. It made him feel sick. His beautiful Nikita despoiled by that slime. His hands clenched into fists. He couldn’t think about what was happening. If he did, he would go mad. He couldn’t help Nikita now. He only hoped that Predaker was not as abnormal as he thought.

After Predaker had finished, Nikita buried her face in the pillow. It was not as bad as she had thought. It was worse. She felt dirty in a way that no one had ever made her feel. Predaker stood over the bed, obviously pleased with his performance.

“Get yourself dressed. I have things to do, but I will be back in a few hours. We can... pick up where we left off.” He grinned sardonically at Nikita, and she had all she could do not to cringe. She padded into the bathroom, avoiding touching Predaker in any way, but his eyes followed her so closely, she felt soiled.

Predaker dressed hurriedly and left the room, glancing around to see if he was under surveillance. He did not see anyone, and he soon blended with the morning crowd at the elevators.

Nikita slowly examined herself in the mirror before showering. She didn’t look particularly different. But she felt different. Inside, she was a little girl again, being tortured by her drug-addicted mother’s male companions. She walked into the shower and turned on the water, as hot as she could stand. When the water was sluicing its way over her body, her hair wetly plastered against her forehead, she began to cry softly.

Michael stopped outside of Nikita’s room and lightly tapped on the door once for appearance’s sake. He knew that Predaker had gone, and that Nikita was in the shower. He heard the water running. He edged the door open and saw that Nikita was crying. “Kita!” Uncaring that he was getting wet, he reached into the shower and pulled her wet body into his arms. She fell against him limply, and he reached into the shower again, this time to turn off the water.

“Kita! Are you all right?” He breathed against her temple, his lips pressing the gentlest of kisses there.

She looked up at him with haunted eyes, wet with water mixed with tears. “I don’t think I’ll ever be all right again, Michael,”she whispered hoarsely.

He grabbed a fresh towel and wrapped it around her.“You must be cold.” She stared at him blankly. “Birkoff,” Michael said into his com link. “The target is out of the building. Nikita is getting the intel.”

“Michael,” she said, her mouth downturned, as if she were about to start crying again. “I don’t think I can do this again.”

He rubbed her arms with another towel he had picked up and tried not to hear the pain in her voice. “You’ll be okay. I’m here.”

She looked deep into his face. “But you’re not supposed to be, are you?” As Michael suddenly stopped moving the towel, she realized she was right. “Operations wanted me to be here by myself. He knows my background. He knows what this is doing to me. Doesn’t he?”

She pressed her fingers into Michael’s arms, trying toget his attention. “Doesn’t he, Michael?”

“He knows.” His voice was deceptively soft.

“You’re breaking position then,” she said, trying to match Michael’s cool tone, but failing. Michael glanced at her, but did not answer.

“I’m supposed to report to you. All the gory details.”He did register a reaction to that. “I set up the com links so I could hear what was going on in here myself. There’s no need to repeat what I’ve already heard.” He knew he had said that coldly, but he could not allow himself to feel anything more than he already did. Or he could not protect Nikita.

Nikita shivered, and not from the cold morning air on her still-wet body. She moved away from him, and Michael let her go, the towel still in his hands. “You’d better get dressed. I’ll see what intel there might be in here, but he probably doesn’t leave much around.”

Nikita saw that Michael was back to his normal self and laughed silently. Congratulations, Nikita, you’ve finally cured him of his obsession with you. To her, it was clear that he didn’t even want to be in the same room with her, much less spend his life with her.

Michael swallowed hard and moved into the center of the room, carefully and quickly searching, finding nothing of import. It figured, nothing about this mission was going down easy. Michael swept the room for bugs and found none. He placed one of his own near the bed, wincing at the thought of what that would pick up, but forcing himself not to react. “Nikita, you’ll wait for his return.”

“And?” she asked, shrugging into her gown.

Michael glanced at the ripped areas impassively. His eyes darkened and flickered for a moment, then re-asserted their steady gaze. “Then you’ll deal with whatever comes up.” He left the room so quickly, she thought she had imagined him being there.

She stared after him, her fingers pressed to her mouth.

When Predaker returned, he was not in good humor. “Ah,the fair Nikita!” he boomed from the doorway. He scowled at her gown.“ You need new clothes. You can’t go out in that.” He threw some bills at her and turned on his heel. “When you’ve dressed properly, we will go out. Get out now.”

She moved submissively, more from nostalgia and old habit than from reaction to his tone. She left the room, feeling as though she could finally breathe. Her heels clacking on the marble floor, she made her way down the hall. When she got to the lobby, she heard Birkoff. “Turn right, Nikita, Michael will meet you there.”

He handed her a gym bag filled with clothing. He indicated the restroom.“You can change in there.”

She glanced around, then opened the restroom door. She found a pair of jeans and a t-shirt inside the bag, as well as toiletries like deodorant and toothpaste. It was a thoughtful gesture, she supposed, but somehow, it made her feel even more alienated from the mission. There were things going on here that felt unreal. She slipped into the jeans and t-shirt, and with her hair down and no make-up, she looked fresh-faced and innocent. It was just too bad that she didn’t feel that way, she muttered to herself. When they were safely out on the street, Michael took her arm and led her to the mission van, carefully searching the surrounding area. There was no one inside. The recorders were going automatically.

“Nikita!” Michael all but shook her. He drew in a shuddering breath and ran his fingers unconsciously through his hair. Nikita dropped her eyes. She was definitely in danger of losing her focus, and she had better remind Michael of what was at stake here. “Michael, I’m having enough trouble with this mission...and frankly, you’re distracting me.”

Michael laughed harshly. “You have trouble with this mission?” He was clearly agitated now. “How do you think I feel?”

“What do your feelings have to do with any of this, Michael?”

“My--” Michael snorted. “You’re right, right.” He backed off, raising his hands in the air in admission of defeat. “Why did I think you would care how I feel? Maybe you’ll...learn to like it.” He turned his back on her, and Nikita felt her heart squeeze. Nikita reached out with one hand to touch Michael, then dropped her hand limply to her side.

“One of us has to stay focused, Michael,” she said, wincing at the hardness in her own voice.

Michael whirled around, his face tortured. “You picked a hell of a time to display some discipline, Kita!”

“Michael,” Nikita said as her eyes widened in disbelief. “Ssh! Birkoff is picking all this up, this is going out over the air, Michael!”

“Merde!” Michael cursed fluently in French. He ripped off his com link and threw it onto the counter. He then crossed to where Nikita stood and removed her com link, throwing it next to his. “Has Predaker given you any idea where his tastes lie?”

Nikita shrugged. “Not really. Why?”

“I heard there could be problems.” He looked away, unable to meet her eyes.

“Like what?”

“Like maybe it would be better not to find out,” Michael intimated.

“I’m going through with this mission, Michael. Don’t try to scare me by inflicting your own fears on me.”

He sighed heavily. “You have no idea what--” He met her eyes for a brief moment, his pain almost as palpable as hers.

“You don’t know where this can go, Kita. You just don’t know.”

“You mean it could be worse?” She smiled tightly, her eyes glittering with both fear as well as anger.

“I’ve been there, Kita. You haven’t.”

“Then why don’t you enlighten me?”

He sighed. “Sarcasm won’t protect you.”

“And neither will you, Michael.” That damning announcement echoed in the silence. Michael turned away without speaking and opened the door, indicating Nikita should leave. She tried to see some shred of emotion in his face, but she could see none, and she was too caught up in her own pain to argue.

“Why do you have to be right?” he whispered to himself and the now-empty room. He picked up his com link, re-inserting it into his ear. “Birkoff,” he whispered, “Nikita is in place, I’m on point, you can send the rest of the team back now. I’ll be in touch.”

He sat down in the chair and buried his face in his hands. If Nikita only knew...

Predaker was waiting when Nikita returned to the room. He didn’t look happy. She was beginning to rethink her position on how dangerous this man was. He was starting to set off her warning alarms just looking at her. She refused to let herself be influenced by Michael. He had more experience as an operative, but she knew men. Unfortunately, all too well.

He looked at the shopping bag Nikita held. “I hope there is another dress in there.” She smiled. “Of course. You were so generous, I couldn’t help myself.” He ordered her to change into it, and Nikita couldn’t help but flinch at his tone. He reached out and pulled on her neck with one large hand. “I will be very generous with you. But you must always do what I say.”

His hand tightened imperceptibly on her neck, but the threat was there. She nodded quickly. He released her and smiled broadly. Then he struck her across the face, hard. She blinked at the tears that immediately came to her eyes. “W-What was that for?”

“You need to be taught to please me.” A strange glint came into Predaker’s eyes. Nikita backed up. “And if I can’t?” she whispered. He glared. “You will, Nikita, you will.”

Michael sat bolt upright in his chair, unable to move. This was going south fast. He ran out the door and onto the street. “Perimeter teams, move in, move in now.” He moved through the crowds at the elevator, frustrated by the leisurely pace at which they walked. He threw himself through the door at the end of the corridor, knowing it led to the stairs. He took the stairs two and three at a time, in an effort to outrace his team. He had to be first up there. He had to be.

Gun drawn, he kicked open Predaker’s door. Predaker was frozen in tableau with Nikita. He was bending over her half-naked body, obviously aroused, while Nikita lay bruised and broken on the bed. Her head moved a fraction, and Michael knew she was still conscious. He shot Predaker once, aiming for his leg, rendering him unable to walk. Predaker went down on his knees, and Michael stood over him, willing himself to regain control before he killed Predaker outright. The other operatives came bolting through the door, and Michael turned his head just for a second. Predaker used the opportunity to reach his own weapon and shot Michael at close range. Nikita screamed and fainted.

When she awoke in Medlab, Nikita was aware of two things. Madeline was hovering over her anxiously, and Michael was nowhere to be seen.

Madeline spoke first. “How are you feeling?” She responded, mouth clearly distorted by bruises, “Oh, not bad, Madeline.” She wanted to smile, but her mouth refused. “Where’s Michael?” she asked anxiously, remembering she had seen him fall. “He’s gone, Nikita.”

“G-gone?” Nikita got out in a voice that sounded like ground glass.

“He died protecting you, Nikita.” Madeline’s voice seemed to be coming from far, far away. Suddenly Nikita couldn’t hear at all, the ringing in her ears was much too loud. Madeline turned to Operations. “That’s it. I refuse to do any more.” She glared angrily at Operations and stalked out of the Medlab.

Operations smirked at Madeline’s retreating back. Then he turned his attentions back to Nikita. Her entire body was covered in bruises. She had fractured ribs as well as an open laceration across her beautiful face, but it shouldn’t scar, given the proper treatment, Medlab assured him. He was furious that Michael had violated the profile and shot Predaker before they had gained the intel they needed. But Predaker was in the White Room right now with Madeline, and she would get the information, of that he had no doubt.

Madeline smiled, a painfully tight little smile, at Predaker, who had been carefully restrained in the White Room chair. “We can do this the hard way or the easy way. Your choice.”

Predaker spat on the floor in front of her. Madeline merely smiled again. “Good, the hard way, then.” She turned abruptly and gestured to the TortureTwins, who then entered the room. As they unpacked their various instruments of torture, Madeline spared a glance over her shoulder at Predaker. He would talk soon. Very soon. And he would pay for what he had done to Michael and Nikita.

Chapter 6

Nikita lay on the Medlab bed for what seemed like hours. Her position never changed. She was on her side, with both arms crossed tightly against her lower body. To Madeline, it was obvious that she had been abused, and badly. But she had other concerns more pressing. “Nikita,” she said softly.

Nikita refused to open her eyes. She kept seeing Michael fall in front of her. She kept seeing herself reaching out and missing him by inches. Then that slow-motion scream which kept reverberating in her head. Oh, yeah, that was her, she remembered. She drew in a shaky breath. “Madeline, I can’t talk to you now, please...” A tear slid down her cheek.

Madeline touched Nikita’s side, and watched as the younger woman flinched openly. “Nikita, are you in pain?” she asked, not unkindly.

“What do you think?” she said bitterly, her eyes springing open in a blaze of blue fire. “I can give you something for the pain,” Madeline said.

“No, you can’t,” Nikita replied in that broken voice that almost brought tears to Madeline’s eyes. Madeline had always felt strangely conflicted in dealing with Nikita and Michael. With Michael gone, she felt as if she owed him the favor of treating Nikita more fairly than she had.

“Nikita...I want you to take this.” She indicated a small white pill in her hand. Nikita paled. “What-What is it?”

“It’s a morning-after pill. I’ve already had you checked for STD’s, as well as Hepatitis, but we don’t want any...unpleasant aftereffects...do we?”

Nikita stared at Madeline in utter horror. “You mean I might be pregnant? Oh, God, no...” She squeezed her eyes shut, but the tears just continued to leak out and trickle down her ashen face.

Madeline left the pill in a tiny cup at the bedside. She glanced at the nurse as she exited, and told her to make sure that Nikita took the pill as soon as possible.

Nikita withdrew inside herself, pulling her knees up to her chest, then wincing at the pain that produced in her injured ribs.

Walter came into Medlab right on Madeline’s heels, and he stopped at her bedside. “Sugar, you okay?” Nikita heard Walter’s voice and something broke free, unleashing a torrent of sobbing. She threw herself against Walter’s chest and clung to him like a small child. He held her silently, thinking it was ironic that in this most desperate of times, they had never been closer to one another. “Ssh,ssh, you’ll be okay...”

He continued to whisper words of comfort to her,knowing all the while that he scarcely believed them himself. He would miss Michael, but he was more worried about Nikita and what would happen to her now.

She tried to tell him what happened, but the words came out in fits and starts. “I don’t even make sense to myself, Walter...” She looked at him tearfully. “What am I going to do?” Before he could even answer, Nikita continued. “I told him...the last thing I told him...was that he couldn’t even protect me.” She hiccuped, then began sobbing again. “He died trying to protect me, Walter...he’s dead cause of me...”

Walter was touched by Nikita’s outpouring, but he knew she would never heal unless she stopped blaming herself for Michael’s death. “You can’t blame yourself for that, Sugar.”

“But I do.”

“Sugar, it’s how Michael would have wanted it, you know that,” he said in a husky voice tinged with sadness. “He wouldn’t have wanted to be the one... left behind. I don’t think he would have made it.”

“Walter! Get me a gun, any kind, please.” She grabbed Walter by the lapels of his jacket. “Please!” She looked wild-eyed and out of control.

‘Now, Sugar, that ain’t the answer. ‘Sides, Madeline will take care of Predaker for you.” He nodded emphatically, quite sure that it would happen soon, if it was not already done.

“Not to kill Predaker! For me, Walter!” Walter stepped back and stared at Nikita.

“No! No, absolutely not, Sugar! I’m not gonna help you kill yourself!” He felt way out of his league with this. He couldn’t let Nikita hurt herself, but he didn’t know who to go to with this. Normally, he would have told Michael, but with Michael dead...

He managed to calm her down and summoned the nurse, telling her only that Nikita seemed in need of some sedation. He hoped she would sleep, and that would buy him time to find out what to do.

Operations watched the proceedings with uncharacteristic glee. Things were going as planned. Nikita would break soon. Now onto Michael...

Chapter 7

Michael woke in a part of Section even he was not familiar with. He tried to sit up, but movement brought intense pain in his chest. He had been shot. In the chest. By Predaker. He knew that much. He felt for the bandage, encountering a thick bulky dressing around his middle. He didn’t dare probe too deeply, for the pain was throbbing already from his misguided attempt to sit up.

He looked around and saw no one else. Then, abruptly, Operations entered the room. “Hello, Michael.”

Michael stared blankly at him, deliberately willing himself not to react to anything Operations might say. “Hello.”

Operations glanced at the heavy dressing. “Painful?”

“Some.” Michael underestimated the pain, intentionally slowing his breathing to make it more shallow.

Operations put his hands in his pockets and sighed. “Michael, I don’t know how to tell you this, but... Nikita was killed in the ensuing gun battle between Section and Predaker.” He watched Michael carefully, while appearing seemingly uninterested in his response.

Michael flinched as if he had been shot again. “I’m sorry, Paul, what did you say?”

Operations drew so close, Michael could feel his breath. Their eyes met, and neither seemed willing to look away first. “Nikita is dead.”

The words just hung in the air for a second, then seemed to fall to earth, not unlike Michael’s body when he had been shot. He nodded without speaking,then averted his face. “Oh,” he said finally, his voice a mere thread of sound. Operations smiled as he left the room.

Michael was left alone with his thoughts and his gun. Operations had not taken away his weapon, like he had done with Nikita. Michael wondered why Operations would leave a potential suicide alone with a gun, but then, he thought, perhaps he expects me to use it and save him the trouble. Michael had his own suspicions about what was going on here, but he would give Operations a run for his money before he took his own life.

He took out his gun, slapped the clip into it, and held it against his head, aiming it away from himself. He would get a nasty recoil, maybe a powder burn, but he would survive. To see what Operations was up to. He had known Operations too long to take anything he said at face value. Nikita wasn’t dead.

She couldn’t be. She had been conscious when he arrived at Predaker’s room. She had been alive when he was shot. There was no reason for her to have died in that room. If she was dead, which he doubted, it was at Operations’ hands.

Michael fired the gun, and the blast echoed throughout the chamber. Operations could not have been very far away, for he was back inside the room within several seconds. Michael’s last thought, before concussion took him, was, Nikita had better not be dead, you bastard, or I will pick up where Nikita left off and destroy Section.

Operations saw that Michael’s attempt had missed his head, and he chalked it up to a distraught man mis-aiming his gun. He had his answer. Michael was no good without Nikita. Nikita was no good without Michael. Like those two good dogs he had as a boy, their fondness for each other kept them efficient and productive. But now that Michael’s deep cover mission was over, there was nothing keeping Michael and Nikita apart. Operations didn’t like that. He wanted them conflicted and ambivalent, never really sure of each other. It gave him the necessary leverage to control them both.

He had used this mission to conduct an experiment. He wanted to see if either of them was able to survive without the other and still function as an operative. He didn’t think so. Madeline hated his methods, but had agreed to participate minimally once threatened with certain revelations. He wasn’t sure he could trust her judgment when it came to Nikita, and he knew that she was overly fond of Michael. So he resorted to subterfuge, and he had empirical evidence that he was right.

While Operations was congratulating himself, Michael had come back tohis senses. A bit groggy, ears ringing, but basically intact. He blinked to clear hisvision and drew his gun on Operations.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Michael, you won’t shoot me.”

“Don’t be so sure.” Michael’s voice was gritty with grim determination.

“Oh, I know you won’t. You see, I’m the only one that knows where you’re being held. Without me, you’ll rot here for years, without being discovered. And just where would that leave you?”

Michael pretended to consider this as a serious possibility. “Hmm...and I thought you were going to tell me where you had Nikita.”

“You don’t believe she’s dead?”

“I know you too well, Paul.”

“Ahh, I see...” Operations nodded. “I should have had someone else tell you the news, but I was just so damned glad to say it.”

“You bastard!” Michael said coldly, clicking back the safety.

Operations began to walk away, nearing the door before Michael’s shot rang out, almost clipping his ear. “Michael, you missed.”

He pointed the gun at Operations’ head. “So I did. I’ll do better next time.” It was a threat, and not an implied one. If Nikita was dead, Operations would go down. Not tomorrow, not next week, but right now. Michael clearly didn’t care about himself, and that made him far more dangerous than Operations had suspected.

Chapter 8

Nikita eventually took the morning-after pill. The irony of possibly bearing the child of a terrorist who routinely destroyed the innocent lives of children was not lost on her. She lay in Medlab, hanging between sleep and wakefulness for hours, contemplating her new life in Section without Michael. Even thinking about it brought new tears to her already swollen eyes. She was exhausted beyond belief. She had no one left to lean on, except for Walter, and it was evident, even to Nikita’s pain-filled gaze, that Walter had all he could do to deal with his own grief.

Birkoff, dear sweet Birkoff, who was like her little brother, tried to comfort Nikita, but she thought he knew that she was quite beyond normal comfort measures. She finally sat up, struggling not to breathe deeply, and stared into the darkness that was Medlab at night. She heard a sound. A step. “Michael?” she called out hoarsely, even as she knew it could not be him.

A shadow stepped away from the wall and suddenly she knew. “Nikita!” It was Michael. He was alive! Or she was hallucinating. She didn’t care. If she were going crazy, she would gladly embrace this particular hallucination. She dangled her feet off the bed, grimacing at the new pain this produced. Michael held her gingerly, apparently aware that she was injured. “Are you okay?” he whispered against her ear. “Yes,” she answered happily.“Are you okay?” she asked him, pressing her mouth against his ear as he had done to her. He nodded.

“They told me you were dead.” She tried to control the pain in her voice, but she could not. The grief was too fresh in her mind. “I know,” he said. He brushed her hair back, touching her face the way she liked, and she cocked her head, pressing her cheek into his palm.

“Operations was just conducting... an experiment,” Michael spat out. “For years, he used Elena and Adam to keep us apart. He concocted this whole horrible mission, just to humiliate you, and degrade you, and break you, and Kita...I don’t think he much cares what happens to me once you’re gone.”

“He thought that you wouldn’t be able to go throug with the mission, because he thinks you’re in love with me, and he thought I would help you, because he thinks I’m in love with you. He’s playing games with us, Kita, and he might win this time, cause he’s right about one thing...” Michael sounded out of breath. “I am in love with you.”

Nikita pressed her face against Michael’s, swallowing the urge to cry yet again. She didn’t want to waste a moment more on tears. Not when she had every reason to be happy at last. “I always have been.” Michael sighed heavily, and kissed Nikita’s cheek.

Michael tenderly traced the tears with his fingertips, and then kissed the tracks they had made on her face. “Kita...” Michael breathed her name. “Nothing Operations says or does matters now. He can’t make me love you any less. And believe me, he has tried.” He kissed her mouth, lingering for a second to lick the tear that had trickled onto her bottom lip.

He looked at her, his own eyes suspiciously wet. “But we’re not safe here, Kita. We have to go now.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know. Everyone thinks I’m dead. That should help.”

“Maybe not, Michael.” Operations’ voice rang out clearly in the darkness. “Your first mistake was in not killing me when you had the chance. Your second was in coming here. So predictable, Michael. I really thought better of you.”

Chapter 9

“I would offer congratulations, if I thought they were appropriate, but I think you know, Michael, that I expected...more.”

He glanced significantly at Madeline. “I think you achieved exactly what you wanted, Paul,” said Madeline quietly, a bit of a gleam in her pained eyes.

Operations nodded briefly at Madeline. He glared at Michael again, then derisively snorted at Nikita. “Look at her, how can you say this was a successful Valentine Op, when she looks like she needs a shot of Thorazine?”

Madeline selected her next words carefully. “Perhaps she does need therapy of sorts... Paul, you’ve more than succeeded in driving the two of them apart again. That was your doing, was it not?” Madeline paused for effect, and her eyes glinted warmly, at odds with her downturned mouth.

“You know it was,” he admitted. “I merely conducted an... experiment, Madeline. To see if either of them could function without the other. They both failed,” he stated flatly.

“Well, I don’t think it was really a fair test, do you?” Madeline said slyly, asif inviting Operations to compete with her on her playing field, the psychological playing field. “You thought this would help you determine what?” She waited patiently for his answer.

Operations merely looked annoyed. “Which one should be cancelled, of course.” Michael glanced anxiously at Nikita. She surreptitiously nodded.

“And if they both failed, then what did you accomplish?”

“We cut our losses and cancel both of them.” Operations looked at Madeline as if she were stupid.

“What losses? You said that when they’re together, they’re both cost-efficient and productive operatives. How does cancellation fit into that scenario? Please explain.”

Nikita hid a smile behind her hand. If Madeline was on their side, they had a chance, a slim one, but still a chance.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you, Madeline,” he said shortly.

“Oh, I think you do.” Madeline smiled innocently. “It’s good practice for when Oversight asks for a full investigation of why two perfectly good operatives, one of whom is Level 5, no less, were cancelled.”

“Madeline...” Operations began threateningly.

Michael grew tired of waiting patiently. “Listen, I hate to interrupt, but I still have my gun.” He drew it, pointed it at Operations and clicked off the safety. “Where are we going with this?”

Nikita suddenly straightened and looked directly at Operations. “You people make me sick. You talk about us as if we aren’t even here, as if we aren’t real. And you know what? Maybe we’re not! I know I sure as hell don’t feel real right now!”

Michael glanced at Nikita. “Nikita!”

Nikita’s biting stare more than silenced Michael, it unnerved him. Even Operations looked at Madeline as if he were concerned. “You shouldn’t worry, I’ve always been the loose cannon here. You can’t blame Michael, really, for being unable to manage me. I’m just not prime material. That must be it!”

Michael looked at Madeline, as if willing her to say something. But Madeline didn’t know what to say. She could see that Nikita was hurting, and she was striking out, randomly, at whatever target she could find.

“Nikita,” she began, “you’re obviously tired and emotional, why don’t you--?”

“Why don’t you shove it up your ass, Maddy?!” Nikita all but snarled.

Operations held up a hand, as if to forestall any further argument. “Nikita, that’s enough! You know we will not tolerate this level of disrespect!”

Nikita laughed harshly. “Yeah, well, who cares? I don’t find anyone here worthy of my respect!” Nikita’s telling glance so obviously included Michael, it made them all uncomfortable.

Operations’ voice rang out clearly. “Cancel her. And Michael, I want you to do it.”

Michael’s head shot up. “No.” He spoke without shouting but his emphasis was evident. “Michael, don’t tell me no.”

Michael stared back at Operations blankly. “I just did.”

Nikita’s initial anger had cooled and she took in Michael’s ashen face, contrasting it with Operations’ flushed face. “Michael, this isn’t your fight.”

Michael shifted uneasily beneath Operations’ scrutiny. “The hell it isn’t.”

Operations met Michael’s eyes evenly. “You want me to cancel you, too?”

Michael all but shouted. “Why not? If you take Nikita, you might as well kill me, too!”

Operations continued to study Michael’s reaction. “I find you both rathertouching, in an archaic kind of way, that kind of loyalty is remarkable, even amongst humans.”

Nikita paled as she realized that Michael’s life was in jeopardy as well now. “Michael, I never meant--”

Michael snapped, “Shut up, Nikita!” and continued to glare at Operations. He began to advance on the older man, causing Operations to back up, almost instinctively. “You took Simone away from me, you took Elena away from me and then you took my son! And yet, still, you expected me to function! I am not a machine! I have hated what you have done to me for as long as I can remember... but what you’ve made me do to Nikita, not once, but over and over again, is the worst. You only know how to destroy, you don’t know how to love or create something from that love!” Michael’s voice was choked with unspent emotion.

“I used to be human, I used to know what love was, but you’ve driven everything safe and humane out of me!” Michael’s eyes glittered with unshed tears. “You’ve made me violate Nikita in so many ways,I can’t even keep track anymore! And the painful truth is, I never fought you openly, because some part of me still wants to live! I don’t even know why, cause I know I don’t deserve to!” Michael almost laughed hysterically. “I figure, God must want me to kill you, Paul, what do you think about that?”

Operations looked afraid for the first time in years. Madeline saw the change come over him, imperceptibly at first, then less subtly. “I think you’re a dead man, Michael.” His voice didn’t quiver, but Madeline could hear the fear.

Michael’s eyes shone with strange light. He smiled inappropriately and continued to point the gun at Operations, quite openly.“Not if I get you first, Paul.”

Madeline reached out for the gun. “Michael, I’m on your side. You don’t want to do this. You’ll lose everything.”

Michael shrieked at her, “I’ve already lost everything that matters, Madeline! You of all people should understand!”

Madeline looked Michael in the eye. ‘You’ll lose Nikita.”

Michael waved the gun unintentionally as he flailed his arms. “I’ve already lost Nikita! Don’t you understand anything I’ve been saying?”

Madeline looked at Nikita, willing her to intervene.‘‘Nikita hasn’t said anything yet, Michael, maybe you should ask her what she thinks.”

Michael slumped, his gun hand falling to his side limply. ‘‘I don’t care what she thinks, she doesn’t love me, what else matters?” He fell forward a step and braced himself on the chair. He slowly began to raiset he gun to his head, and Madeline screamed. Nikita flew to Michael’s side, and grabbed the gun, but Michael continued to struggle with her for control of it. “No, Kita, please!”

Nikita fought hard for the gun and finally wrestled it away from Michael. “Is that what you think I want, Michael? You think I hate you that much, that I would want to see you dead?”

Michael stared at her without speaking. He shook his head. “No, Kita... I hate me that much. For what I’ve become. For blaming Section when I could have taken a stand. I’d be dead, but I would still have honor.”

Nikita placed the gun in the waistband of her leather pants. She stroked the side of Michael’s face, the way he so often touched her, and tried to ignore Operations and Madeline’s presence, which she found terribly distracting.

“Madeline?”

Madeline said simply, “Yes, Nikita?”

Nikita looked at her, her heart in her eyes. “Could you please leave us alone, just for a few minutes?”

“Of course.”

She pulled on Operations’ arm and managed to get him out of the room before he could summon his Palace Guard. Funny, but lately, she had been having nightmares, where he turned into the Red Queen, yelling, “Off with their heads!” Nikita breathed a sigh of relief at their departure.

‘‘Michael, if anyone is going to die here, it’s going to be me. I’ve been your cross to bear for too long.So you can just cancel me and be done with it. Go ahead.” Nikita pulled the gun from her waistband and offered it to Michael, who looked appalled.

“I can’t cancel you, Kita.” Michael’s voice dropped to a rasp.

“Then I’ll do it,” she said, placing the gun to herown temple.

“Kita, no!” Michael closed his eyes as he grabbed the gun away from her. He flinched as he heard the gun go off. His eyes opened wide, and he saw Nikita fall. “Noooo!” he screamed.

Michael bent over Nikita’s limp form and searched for the wound, but found none. “What? I heard the gun go off!”

Nikita opened her eyes tentatively. “You scared the hell out of me, Michael! Some dark knight you are, trying to blow my head off!”

“Me? You scared me, Kita. Christ, I don’t know when I’ve been so scared.” He raked his hands through his hair, turning it into an unruly tangle.

“Are we done with the gun then? Can we please put it away?”

Suddenly Michael burst out laughing. Nikita couldn’t help herself. It was honestly too funny for words. They fell into each other’s arms, laughing like children. “I’m glad you saw my signal. But I had no idea what you were going to do.”

“Did you see Operations’ face when I threatened him?”

“Well, Michael, I personally thought Madeline was going to blow the whole thing when she started practicing psychotherapy here in the Medlab. Interesting premise, therapy at gunpoint.”

Michael sobered for a second. “Operations will get even. He doesn’t like being thwarted.”

“Are you worried about cancellation?”

“You saw Madeline’s face. She’s got more power than Ops right now, and she plans to use it.”

“But Kita, I really hate him!” Michael whispered with an uncharacteristic half-smile.

Nikita pressed her fingers to Michael’s mouth. “And so you should. He’s a cruel, unreasoning man. He doesn’t want to let us go, but he doesn’t want us to be together.”

Nikita suddenly peered closer at Michael’s face. “It is him that’s keeping us apart, isn’t it?”

Michael flushed. “Kita, if he let you go, I would be happy for you, honestly.”

“Liar. You’re a surprisingly bad liar sometimes, Michael.”

Nikita kissed Michael fervently. ‘I’m sorry, Michael, you can’t get rid of me that easily. I love you.” Michael hadn’t realized that he was holding his breath until she said that last. He kissed her back.

“How, Kita? After everything?”

“You’re a challenge, Michael, truly. A total mystery sometimes, I admit, but I love you.” She kissed him again. “But the question is, do you love me?”

Michael tried to smile, weakly, but his eyes felt wet. He wiped them surreptitiously. He looked down at their arms, intertwined around each other. “I know I’ve made it hard for you to trust me, and there’s no way for you to know if I’m lying, really... but God help me, I do love you, Kita, I really do.”

He kissed her hands that were wrapped so gently around his face. “I love the way you hold me, Kita, you make me feel so warm inside, like you’ve brought your light into my darkness.”

“And you’ve had so much darkness, Michael... I’m sorry for that.” Nikita continued to stroke his hair back from his face until he closed his eyes. He grabbed her hair and pulled her closer, his hand massaging the back of her neck, and when his eyes suddenly opened, they were uncharacteristically bright.

“Whatever happens now, Kita...”

Nikita blinked for a moment. “No,” she said firmly.“They’re not going to cancel us, Michael. I don’t believe it. If they were going to do it, they would havedone it already.”

Michael sighed. “Unless they’re not done with us yet.”

Chapter 10

He clung to her, pulling her towards him until she rested her head on his shoulder. He began to sway gently, and she smiled in memory. “Kita, do you remember?” They danced slowly back and forth. “Yes, Michael.” He kissed her ear. “And you wouldn’t let me kiss you.” Nikita raised her head sharply and stared at Michael. “You remember that?”

He bent low and kissed her mouth, clinging to her lips for a second before releasing her. “I remember it all.”

“You said it wasn’t who I was. When I remember it, Iget a sharp pang in my heart. I didn’t know who I was, but I knew what I felt. And it felt right having you in my arms, Kita, and kissing you...” He nuzzled her cheek softly. Nikita put her head back on Michael’s shoulder and looked away. “And the rest?”

“I remember... when I came back to my senses, I had such a surge of feeling, it was difficult to control... and you touched my arm, and then left.” Nikita sighed. “Kita, I know what you’re asking me... yes, I remember telling you that I loved you.” He raised her face to his, met her eyes evenly, and repeated what he said. “I told you that I loved you...and now you know, I meant it.” Nikita kissed him.

“But you never said anything, Kita... you could have said something.” Michael looked momentarily puzzled. Nikita shrugged.

“I didn’t know whether to be glad that you had your memory back or not. When you had amnesia, Michael... for three days, you were a different person. You had feelings, but you were unhappy, unhappy enough you would have risked your life to leave Section.” Nikita buried her head against Michael’s chest. “You wanted to go, you said you had nothing to lose...”

“But you said, you did. I remember, Kita.” He smoothed her hair with his hand and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I couldn’t do that to you.”

“I couldn’t tell you how I felt then, Michael... when your memory came back, it was like shutters being closed against the storm. You were back to being--”

“Cold and manipulative?” Michael finished for her.

“Kita, there was nothing I could do. When I remembered everything... I also remembered why I couldn’t be with you.” Michael looked down.

“Elena...?” Nikita inquired gently.

“And Adam...” Michael’s voice broke for a moment. “I had to protect them.”

“I know, Michael, I know.” Nikita brushed his face with the back of her hand, the way she had so often seen Michael do to her.

“And now?” Michael asked, his voice husky with emotion. “There is no reason we cannot be together...”

Operations strode into the room quietly. “Except one. I don’t want the two of you together.”

Michael turned and faced his nemesis, eyes blazing. “What is your problem? We’re the best field ops you have, and you know it. We work well together. Why do you care what we do when we’re not working?”

Madeline was right behind Operations. “Paul, remember what we discussed,” she said in a warning tone.

Operations glanced at Madeline. “People like you undermine discipline, you’re creative, you see things differently, you think this is a democracy, well, guess what? It’s not!”

Michael laughed. “What are you, God?”

Operations did not smile. “As a matter of fact, in here, yes.”

Michael nodded. “I see.” He looked at Nikita, who was standing impassively next to him. “I want to marry Nikita.”

Operations snorted derisively. “Out of the question!”

Madeline put a hand on Operations’ arm. “I don’t see why that’s so, Paul.”

Madeline smiled. “I like the idea, Michael. I approve.”

Operations sputtered angrily. “Madeline, you’re out of line.”

Madeline simply looked amused. “Paul, I know many things that you don’t wish to be brought to light. Don’t pursue this vendetta. It has no point.”

Michael reached for Nikita’s hand and kissed it. Operations turned away, his face distorted in a sneer. “Out, all of you!”

Madeline nodded at Michael and Nikita. “You may go, both of you.”

Michael resisted the urge to laugh in Operations’ face. His time would come soon enough. He indicated to Nikita that she follow him, and together, they walked down to his office. Once the door was closed and locked, Michael wrapped his arms around Nikita. Nikita smiled up at him. “I told you, no one was getting cancelled today.”

Michael moved over to the desk and activated the jamming device,securing the room. “Come here, you.” He leaned back on the desk, and Nikita poured herself into his arms. He smiled. “You don’t object to us getting married,do you? I know I didn’t really ask you...”

Nikita laughed. “How could I turn down an opportunity to make Operations apoplectic? He looked like he was going to have a stroke, for sure.” Nikita beamed at Michael. “To tell the truth, I would have settled for a cup of coffee, but since you mentioned it....”

Michael laughed in response. “You settle too easy, then... always hold out for more.”

“Now we can drive each other crazy all the time.” Michael kissed Nikita. “But first, you look like you could use some sleep. AndI know we’ve both been through the wringer today. You want to come home withme?” Michael looked cool, but inside, he was still a bit uncertain.

“I thought you’d never ask.” Nikita kissed him hard. “Maybe I’m not that tired.”

Michael took her hands off his belt. “Yes, you are.”

Nikita traced his mouth with her fingertips. “No, I’m not...”

Michael kissed her fingers. “Yes, we both are... in fact, we’re walking wounded. So let’s go home.” He flipped her bangs back with one hand. “That sounds good, doesn’t it? Going home? Together?”

Nikita smiled peacefully. ‘Oh, yes...but Michael... one thing--”

“Yes, Kita?’

“You have no furniture.”

They both burst out laughing.

THE END

This story © Copyright 1999, Jade