Nikita placed the key into the lock, and turned the tumbler. As she did, she gripped the door handle, and turned it as well. The door slowly and smoothly swung open, and granted her access. She crossed the threshold, and turning, closed the door quietly behind her.

She turned and walked over to the kitchenette's counter, and tossed her keys and purse down. Then she reached behind her, and removed the gun that was tucked into her waistband. She stopped in mid-motion to look at it. She thought to herself, "how many people have I killed with this gun? How many lives have I taken, all in the name of the greater good?" She turned the gun over and over in her hands, then tossed it onto the counter with her keys and purse.

Walking over to her stereo, she pushed the 'on' button. The small room was suddenly filled with the sounds of cheerful and merry carolers, as the radio station played it usual seasonal selections. Nikita, turning the tuning knob, was unable to find anything other than seasonal music, so resigned herself, and turned off the radio. She looked casually through her CD collection, and gave up there as well.

She looked around the room, as if looking for something to do, and found nothing. Pacing the floor for a few moments, she walked over to her french doors, and opened them. She walked out onto the balcony, and looked out over the city. She leaned up against the brick wall, and the breeze blew through her hair. It was a bitter cold breeze, and Nikita was chilled, but she didn't move. She just stood, with her eyes closed, and breathed in the air. Then, after a while, she spoke to the breeze, as if it were a living entity.

"Why do I live, and others die? Why am I allowed to go on, when I make no difference one way or the other in this world?" she questioned. She paused, as if awaiting a reply. "I do not understand. I should be the one dying, not the people that I kill...not the innocents. I should not even exist. What difference do I make in this life?" she moaned.

Embracing herself, and rubbing her hands on her arms to try to warm up, she turned and walked back into her apartment. Closing the french doors behind her, and turning the deadbolt, she looked around. She hated the holidays, but even more so, this year she was more depressed. She had seen too much death, both caused by her, or a result of her actions. She did not know how much longer she could endure it all.

Thinking maybe that a glass of wine would calm her down, and help her to sleep, she walked over to the kitchenette and reached up into a cabinet. Taking down a wine glass, she proceeded to open the refrigerator door. Removing a wine bottle, she poured herself a glass, then placed the bottle back into the fridge and closed the door. Halfheartedly picking up the wine glass, she meandered back over to the couch, and plopped down.

After drinking almost all the wine, she sat the glass down on the table, and decided to stretch out on the couch. She wasn't really sleepy, just slightly lethargic from the effects of the wine. She hadn't really meant to go to sleep, but somehow she managed to. It was then, that the 'dream' began. A 'dream' that would forever alter her perceptions and expectations in life.

************

Nikita awoke with a start, and sat bolt upright. Her eyes, wide in surprise, snapped open and shut, in quick succession. As she raised her hand to her head, and swung her legs over the edge of the couch, her french doors suddenly blew open.

Nikita jerked her head around, and stood up. Looking to the doorway, she was momentarily entranced by what she saw. A heavy mist rolled up over the railing on the balcony, and through the threshold of the door. Nikita watched it as it began to cover the floor of the apartment in a white shroud. Looking down, she just watched as the mist encircled her feet, and small tendrils of the white vapor licked at her ankles.

Suddenly the hairs on the back of Nikita's neck raised, and she lifted her gaze. She inhaled, and covered her mouth with her hand. Standing in the door way, just off of the balcony was a tall, broad, familiar figure. As the figure moved forward, Nikita only stared.

Realizing that she had been holding her breath, Nikita moved her hand from her mouth, and placed it on her chest, inhaling a deep, uneven breath.

"I don't understand. How can this be?" Nikita asked the figure, in a very unsteady, very uneven tone. The figure only continued to advance towards her. Then, when it was within a few feet of Nikita, the figured stopped. Reaching up, the figure placed its hand on Nikita cheek, and smiled.

"Hello," the figure said, "I have missed you my love." A tear formed in Nikita's eye, and slowly trickled down her cheek.

"Jurgen?" Nikita said. Jurgen only continued to caress Nikita's cheek. He was dressed all in white, and he had an unearthly, unnatural glow about him. He looked happy, and content. He just stood, smiling at Nikita. He didn't say anything, just caressed her cheek, and smiled.

Nikita, raising her hand, and placing it over Jurgen's, looked at him in bewilderment. "How can this be? You are dead. I watched the explosion myself." Nikita stated. Jurgen smiled sadly, and slowly shook his head.

"The how is not important right now, only the why. I am here because you are in distress and pain. Your soul is crying out for answers, and for release."

Nikita dropped her gaze from Jurgen's and looked at the floor. Jurgen took his hand from Nikita's cheek, and she looked up. "Just a little depressed I guess. Must be the holidays." she said, with a slightly amused tone to her voice.

Jurgen's only answer was to slowly step back from her. "Nikita. You have made more of an impact on the world and those around you than you even know. And that is why I am here." Nikita only looked at Jurgen. Jurgen looked to the balcony, and back to Nikita. Then, reaching out his hand, he gestured for her to come to him.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"I am going to show you how things might have been, had you not existed," Jurgen replied.

Nikita took hold of Jurgen's hand, and he lead her to the balcony. As they stepped over the threshold, the mist enveloped them.

************

Stepping out of the mist that had totally enveloped them, Nikita noticed that they were at the command center for the group Glass Curtain. After glancing around the room, Nikita turned to Jurgen. "Why did you bring me here?" she asked. Jurgen walked around the room, keeping his distance from Nikita, as if her very nearness to him was a distraction.

After a few heartbeats, he turned to face her. "Because, you need to know what effect you have had on the lives of those around you. You will see that here, now, for yourself," he stated.

Just as Nikita was about to question him again, she was interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Team two, any sign of Hester?" Michael barked impatiently into his comm link. After a few moments, and after appearing to have received a reply, a very strange look crossed Michael's face. Nikita turned from Michael, looking at Jurgen.

"Jurgen, what is it?" she asked. "What did he just hear?"

Jurgen smiled at Nikita, and then with a look of sadness replied. "The other team has just reported that they have found a woman captive."

Nikita just turned and stared at Michael. "Simone," she said, quietly and calmly. "Yes, Simone," Jurgen answered.

At that moment, Michael turned, and ran off in the opposite direction. Nikita, not knowing what else to do, followed closely behind. They wound their way through the sub-basements, and in and out of the maze like steam tunnels. At last, they came to the cell, where the second team had found the female captive. Michael ran up to the door, and stopped dead in his tracks.

After a few moments, he turned to the second team leader. "Take your team, and backtrack. We are on a tight time frame, and we have to find Hester," he ordered. The other team member shook his head in understanding, then turning, directed his team to leave. After they had gone, Michael slowly and diligently walked through the doorway of the cell.

Nikita, at that moment, came around the corner, and saw the scene playing out. Michael, in the attempt to get Simone to trust him, spoke to her in a low, whispering tone. "Simone, its me, Michael. Simone, come back to me Simone."

Nikita just stood and stared, and a single tear of sorrow ran down her cheek.

Then, Simone timidly reached out her hand, and Michael pulled her to him. "If I had known, I would have never stopped looking," he whispered. It was then that Simone pulled back from Michael, and looked at him.

"Where is Hester?" she asked, in a weak and hoarse voice. Michael looked at Simone, and pushed her hair back out of her face.

"We don't know. He must have known we were coming, and prepared an egress," he answered.

Simone shook her head. "No, he is here, and I know where. He is in B wing, just above us," she stated matter of factly.

Michael, placing his arm under Simone's, pulled her to him, supporting her weight, and lead her out of the cell, and down the hallway. Nikita followed close behind. Then, as they got the the stairway, Simone drew back, and looked at Michael.

"I can't," she said in a trembling voice. Michael shook his head, then moved Simone over behind the stairway, and eased her down. After placing a kiss tenderly on her bruised and swollen lips, he headed up the steps.

Nikita, starting to follow him, looked back to Simone. Only Simone was gone. She had taken off as soon as Michael had disappeared up the steps. Nikita, remembering how this scene turned out the last time, decided to try to warn Michael. She climbed up the steps, and headed off in the direction in which Michael disappeared. Just as she reached him, Simone cried out, and Michael wheeled around. Nikita saw the fear and anguish playing across Michael's face, as he cried out.

"Simone!!!"

He then took off down the hallway, heading down the steps, and in the direction of the command center. With Nikita following close behind, Michael entered the command center, stopping suddenly and listening.

At that moment, Hester yelled. "Simone, Simone! Stop this Simone!!"

Moving over to a small chamber on the back side of the command center, Michael looked through a window in a metal door. Hester was tied up, to a steam pipe, and Simone had a gun trained on him. Michael tried with all his might to open the door, but to no avail. He then began pleading with Simone, begging her to open the door. But Simone, bent on revenge, only ignored him. She moved to a control panel, and began pushing buttons. She then walked over to a main trip switch, and gripped it firmly with her free hand.

"I love you Michael," she said, and she lowered the switch. An eerie glow enveloped the command center, and a computerized voice spoke out. "This area will self-destruct in two minutes."

Michael looked around frantically, for something to pry the door open with, and get Simone out. But, he came up empty handed. All he could do was look through the window in the door, and watch Simone.

Nikita turned to Jurgen, a pleading look on her face. "We have to do something!" she said. Jurgen only shook his head no, and looked back at Nikita. Then, she swung around, and walking over in front of Michael, she tried to get him to hear her.

"Michael, get the team out now!!" she yelled.

Michael, as if heeding her command, took his comm link out of the pocket of his mission vest, and spoke into it. "Team two, evacuate," he commanded. He then placed the comm link back into his pocket.

"Now, you get out too, Michael!!" Nikita yelled.

But, this time it didn't work. Michael turned and looked back through the window. Then, in a low voice, with his eyes welling up with unshed tears, he spoke. "Simone, please, let me in," he pleaded.

Simone continued to ignore him. The computerized voice began to countdown the seconds to detonation. "You now have 15 seconds to evacuate the building," it stated.

Nikita walked up to Michael, and got right up against his head. "Michael, you have to get out, now!!" she screamed. A sad and regretful smile formed on Michael's lips.

"I will not leave you this time Simone, not again," he said. "You now have 10 seconds....9....8...." the computer counted down.

"Michael, no!! You have to go!!" Nikita screamed, tears running down her face.

"7....6...5 ...4...." Michael turned, and leaned up against the metal door, and slowly slid to the floor. He looked straight ahead the whole time. "3 ...2..." at that very last moment, Michael leaned his head back, looking up at the ceiling, and laughed.

As the detonation took place, Nikita and Jurgen were simultaneously engulfed in a blinding white light, and carried away from the scene.

************

As the bright light faded, and Nikita was able to adjust her eyes, she noticed that she and Jurgen were in the main lobby of Section. There were operatives moving around, as was usual, and there was the familiar buzz of activity associated with a pre-mission prep.

Nikita turned to Jurgen. "Why are we here? What could this possibly have to do with the way I feel?" Nikita questioned. Jurgen, raising his hand, placed a finger lightly against Nikita's lips. Then, Jurgen slowly pointed past Nikita, and she turned, following his gesture.

Standing behind her, were Operations and Madeline, engaged in some sort of heated argument. Nikita turned to Jurgen, and raised her eyebrows. "I suppose next you are going to tell me that they can't see or hear us," she remarked sarcastically. Jurgen only smiled, and nodded his head yes. Nikita then turned back around, and walking over to the couple, listened to what was going on.

"I don't care who you have to get to do the job, I want it done. And I want it done yesterday," Operations yelled. Madeline, never once averting her gaze from his, stared Operations down. Then, after a few moments, she replied.

"Why is this particular mission so much more important? This kid, Stephen Wolfe, is a nobody. He is a small time dealer, in explosives. He would be of no use to us in the long run. How do I justify it to oversight that we take him alive?" she asked.

Operations only smiled slyly. "That is your problem. Just make sure that the team understands. Nothing is to happen to Wolfe. If he doesn't make it back alive, the team is cancelled." As Operations finished, he turned and abruptly walked away from Madeline. Madeline stared after Operations for a few moments, then shaking her head, turned on her heel and headed across the lobby.

The lobby blurred, and the scene changed. It was later at night, and the lobby was dark and deserted. The only light was the dim illumination from the computer terminal that Operations was seated behind. Nikita looked over to Jurgen, and touched him on the arm. "Why have you brought me here?" she asked.

"Just watch, and listen," he replied.

As Nikita walked up to next Operations, he reached out to a bottle on the table in front of him, and tilting it up, poured the contents into a glass. Shaking the bottle, making sure to get every last drop, he suddenly threw the empty bottle across the room. He then picked up the glass, and placing the rim to his lips, he flung back his head, and swallowed the liquid in one gulp. Then, he slammed the glass back down on the table, and took a long drag off of the cigarette in his hand.

Nikita moved to stand behind him, peering over his shoulder, looking at the computers monitor. On the screen was a profile of Stephen Wolfe. His vital statistics, and known intel was displayed, as usual. But, unlike most profiles, his was written over, in big red letters, with the word TERMINATED.

Nikita looked to Jurgen. "What happened to Stephen?" she asked.

Jurgen moved to stand in front of the computer table, and peered down at Operations. "He died in the planned meet. He was caught in the cross fire, and he was shot," Jurgen replied.

"No, he didn't. He started to shoot Michael, and I tranquilized him. Then when the team was gone, I let him go," she said with certainty.

Jurgen shook his head no. "That is what happened before. But in this reality, you never came to be a member of Section. You were not here for Operations to turn to for help, so his only son, whom he had tried all of his life to protect, died," Jurgen said.

Nikita looked down at the profile again, and at the youthful face looking back at her. She then turned to Operations. She saw that he was crying, as he sat and stared at the picture of his dead son. "I don't like this. I don't like this at all. I want to leave. I want to go back." she stated.

Jurgen smiled, and inclined his head. He then reached out and took her hand. "We will. But first, there is one more scene that you must see." He then lead her forward, and as he did, a white light enveloped them, and they disappeared.

After they were gone, Operations wiped his nose, and reaching over, turned off the monitor. Opening the drawer to the computer table, he retrieved a gun. Taking the gun, and flipping off the safety, he placed the barrel to his head. Taking a deep breath, and smiling, he placed his finger on the trigger and gently squeezed.

************

This time, when Nikita stepped out of the bright light that had once again enveloped her and Jurgen, her eyes adjusted much faster. But, on closer view, it was because the area in which they had just stepped into was very dimly lit. Upon closer inspection, she noticed that they had been deposited in one of the many hallways of Section. And, the whole area was just barely lit, by way of what appeared to be emergency lighting.

Nikita slowly stepped forward, and looked all around her. Then, after a few seconds, she turned and looked back over her shoulder. "What happened? Why is it so dark?" she asked.

Jurgen walked up to her, and looking down, frowned. "That is the emergency lighting. It is the only electrical supply left. Once it burns itself out, the whole place will be engulfed in darkness," he replied.

As they continued to walk down the corridor, they had to sidestep metal panels lying on the floors, and conduits hanging from the ceilings. There were pieces of debris scattered everywhere.

"This place looks like a war zone," Nikita commented. Jurgen chuckled slightly. Nikita looked back at him, with a look of puzzlement.

"That is a very good observation. In a way, that is exactly what this is," he stated.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked.

As they rounded the corner, and entered the lobby, Nikita was shocked by what she saw. The room was completely void of any other living soul. The computer monitors were all black, and the emergency lights were casting a very eerie glow over everything.

"Jurgen, has Section been breached?" Nikita asked, as she continued to walk forward.

"Yes," he replied, "but not in the way in which you are thinking."

Nikita stopped and turned. "Then what happened?"

Jurgen walked past Nikita, and stopped at the end of one of Walter's work benches. "Do you remember the mission that you, Michael and Mowen undertook to Scotland?" he asked.

"Yes, to destroy a supposed RED CELL munitions site," Nikita replied.

"Do you remember what happened then?" Nikita stared at Jurgen, and then as realization dawned on her, her eyes widened. "The virus! Mowen carried it back to Section!" Jurgen just nodded in reply. "But, Michael and I found the developer of the virus, and brought back the antidote," she started.

"In your reality yes. But in this reality, a reality in which you do not exist, Michael was already dead. And, since there was no one left on the outside, after Mowen returned with the virus, no one was there to get the antidote."

Nikita started to slowly pace, making a large circle encompassing Jurgen. "Then, everyone, who was in Section...," her voice trailed off. "Oh my gawd..." she whispered.

Jurgen followed her with his eyes, then spoke. "You see Nikita. You have had a profound impact on those around you. You have been of more influence than you would have ever known." Nikita stopped pacing, and looked to Jurgen. Tears were once again running down her cheeks.

"And you Jurgen. Did you die in this reality?" she asked.

Jurgen smiled, then laughed. "I was wondering how long it would take before you got around to that question," he replied. "And the answer is, yes. I did die in this reality. But my death was on Section's terms, and not on my own." Nikita only continued to look at him. "In this reality, I did not die by my own hand, so as to say. I was taken to the white room, and after Madeline and her 'experts' had finished with me, I was cancelled. So, you see, you not only helped me to die on my own terms, I got to spend some of my last days in your company."

Nikita slowly walked up to Jurgen, and when she got within a few inches of him stopped. She then leaned in, and kissed him lightly. He did not return her kiss, and she pulled back. Looking him in the eyes, she placed her hand on his cheek. "I have missed you Jurgen," she whispered softly.

"I have missed you too, Nikita," he replied. "But, I am not what you think I am. I am not the man you knew. I have transcended to another existence. I can never go back to who or what I was." Nikita shook her head in understanding.

"Yes, I know. But you have given me something that I thought I had lost," she stated.

"You given me back my hope...my very soul." Jurgen smiled, and raising his hand, brushed the back of his knuckles across Nikita's cheek. Then, with a saddened look, he backed up from her. Nikita, not understanding, advanced towards Jurgen. Jurgen raised his hand, in a gesture telling her to stop. "I have to go now my love. I have shown you all that I can. The choice is now yours." Then, before Nikita could reply, a bright light engulfed Jurgen, and he disappeared.

************

Nikita sat bolt upright, and looked wildly around the room. She was disoriented, and it took her a moment to get her bearings. When she had, she realized that she was in her apartment, once again. She was sitting on her couch. She turned and looked to the french doors, but they were securely closed and fastened. Realizing that what had just transpired must have been a dream, she inhaled deeply, trying to calm her anxiety and nerves.

She swung her legs over the edge of the couch, and resting her elbows on her knees, placed her head in her hands. At that very moment, her cell phone rang, and Nikita jumped. Moving to stand, she swiftly crossed the apartment, and removed the phone from her purse. Flipping it open, she listened.

"Josephine?" the caller said. Nikita paused for a moment.

"Josephine?" the caller said again, with a hint of worry in his tone.

"Michael?" Nikita replied. "How, where," she stammered.

"Nikita, is everything okay?" he questioned.

Nikita smiled to herself. "Yeah, everything is fine. I will be right there. And Michael?" There was a momentary pause.

"Yes," he replied.

"Merry Christmas." she said cheerfully. She then closed the phone, and placing it back in her purse, looked down. Lying on the counter, next to her purse and keys, was her gun. Picking it up, and testing its weight, she turned it over and over in her hand. Then, clicking on the safety, she moved it behind her, and placed it into the waistband of her pants. She picked up her purse and keys, and turned to head for the door. As she did, something small and shiny caught her attention out of the corner of her eye.

She walked over to her coffee table, and looked down. Lying next to the empty wine glass, was a small silver ring. Leaning over, Nikita picked it up, and examined it. It was the ring that Jurgen had worn. The one that he had the little habit of taking off and fidgeting with.

She just stood, looking at the ring for a while. Then, she placed the ring back down on the table, and smiling, left the apartment. After she had closed the door behind her, a bright light formed, and shined down on the ring. Then, a voice, as if from far off, spoke.

"Enjoy life to its fullest my love. I will miss you, my Nikita."

THE END