She was in Montreal; The City Of Lights. Nikita had never been to Canada, but Michael had; he went there frequently. There was so much to see, and do. The nightlife was so totally diffrent. She missed Michael more than she cared to admit. This vacation that Operations and Madeline had offered her gave Nikita plenty of time to consider the turn of events since her return to the section; Jurgan, the way she had treated Michael, everything.......down to the fact that Jurgan had trained Michael when he had first come to the section. Nikita wished to god that Michael was here with her. An apology, she felt, would ease her conscience. Nikita wished that she had been more understanding of Michael's feelings over Jurgan's death. How would she have felt if the roles were reversed: what if Michael had been the one to die? How would she have responded to Jurgan's feelings? Nikita stood on the balcony overlooking the city. The sky was so blue, and the air was fragrent with the scents of flowers, and foods from the cafe beneath her room. It was intoxicating. It would have been so much more exciting seeing it through Michael's eyes.

She dressed in her jeans, a tee-shirt, tennis shoes, and headed down stairs for coffee and corrsants at the small cafe. Nikita decided, after a delicious breakfast to take in some of the sights around town. Everything she saw reminded her of Michael.......The day passed quickly. That night, she put on the long-sleeved velveteen black dress she had bought earlier that day, plus the black high heels, and decided to go dancing. She found it strange that, even though the day had gone by uneventfully, everything she wanted to buy was already paid for by a person whose name the clerks refused to disclose. Nikita found the notion romantic none the less........

"Sorry, mademoiselle, I cannot except your money," the clerk had explained in a heavy French accent. "A young man has already insisted on paying for these things." The clerk had handed her the bags. "Enjoy them."

Nikita had smiled at the clerk as she left, but there was something about this that had intrigued her.........

Now she checked her image in the mirror in her hotel; her blonde hair braided with a silver ribbon. The dress complemented her long legs. How odd that it reminded her of the last dance they shared before the ill fated mission.....the last time she had seen Michael. 'Let's party,' Nikita thought as she left her apartment, and headed for the jazz cafe down the street.

CHAPTER 2

Michael had known that she would be here at this particular restaurant. He had told her of it often. He dressed in a white cotton shirt, blue jeans, and a pair of white shoes. Since following her to Canada, he had had little sleep, but he was desperate to find her.....his life meant nothing without her. The old Chicago song 'Then Along Comes A Woman' was playing in the background. It sounded so diffrent in French........

As if on cue, she entered the dance hall, and his world stood still. Nothing else existed, except for this moment. Michael had been expecting Nikita, but he didn't expect her to look so......so stunninging. He walked across the room, and met her in the middle of the dance floor. Her back was turned to him, and he touched her lightly on the shoulder.

"Kita," He whispered to her in French. "I've missed you so much." She turned and looked into the same pair of green eyes she had come to love. Tears came to her eyes, and she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately. "Michael, I missed you as well."

They held each other, and the world didn't seem to exist. "Montreal hasn't been the same without you."

'Yeah, she looks great.' He thought to himself. 'So, tell her, you idiot,' Michael chastised himself.

"You look very nice." He kissed her, his arms going around her waist. They danced, and laughed until midnight. The dance floor had cleared somewhat, but they continued to hold eachother as if they were afraid of losing each other again.

"Let's go for a walk, Kita." Michael grabbed his coat and they left the dance floor.

The full moon was shining on the city as they walked along. There was a warm breeze, and the lights of the city added to the enchantment of Montreal.

"Michael, I wanted to say that I am sorry for being so insensitive toward you, and uncaring." Nikita looked into those green eyes and held his gaze. He lay a hand gently against her cheek. "I really did care how you felt after Jurgan died, but I was so----" Michael cut her off in mid sentance with a kiss.

"When I told you that I loved you all of those times, I wasn't lying to you. In the Section, I could never be honest with you, because I was always being watched; I would have been cancelled........The Section has always believed that relationships between Operatives jepordizes their abilities to preform missions assigned to them. That time we made love as 'husband and wife', I tried to admit to myself that it was just to trap a villan, but I wanted so much to be with you......everything I did to you on that mission, I meant from the bottom of my heart.......even our first kiss........" She felt his breath against her lips: he was so close.........

They stopped and sat on a bench; arm in arm. The moonlight captured the brilliance of her hair. He couldn't resist touching it, and she lay her head against his hand.

He kissed her softly, and they held eachother for a long time. "I understand, now, why you sometimes acted as you did. I have had a lot of time to think about us, and I came to one conclusion; I loved you from the moment I first saw you." Nikita whispered to him in his native language. It surprised him. He didn't tell her, but he would have to go back, and face the Section, eventually, to answer to them for his actions. Michael looked at her, and stood up, taking her hand in his.

"Let's dance," He said as he pulled her to him.

"Here?" Nikita asked. 'Dancing under the moon in Montreal?' She thought dreamily.

"Oui," Michael replied. "Ici (Here)." He began to hum some romantic tune softly to Nikita as they swayed slowly as if in a dream. The Section was forgotten for now.

CHAPTER 3

They went back to her apartment, and made love until early morning. He lay next to her sleeping peacefully, and she watched him for a long time. It had been so long since she had felt his touch. Nikita sighed. She felt secure in his arms. Nikita kissed him lightly on the cheek, and smiled. She had never felt so happy........

The phone rang, and Nikita reached over Michael to answer it.

"Hello?" she said as she began giving Michael soft little kisses all over his face and neck. She thought she saw a smile pass over his face.........

"I know where you are, and I'll find you," The voice was familiar. "I can see you through the 'sight' on my rifle, and I will shoot you both."

"Who is this? What do you want?"

The caller laughed. "I have been sent to cancel you."

Nikita held her breath. She heard the phone click.

"Michael? Michael?" She shook him, and he awoke sleepily.

"Who was it?"

"It was someone from the Section," She shivered. "The caller said that she could see us through the sight on her rifle, and that she was sent to cancel us."

It was as if he had expected something like this to happen. The Section had ruined his life one too many times. This time they wouldn't succeed. He bolted upright in bed, and reached for the gun he had brought along for such an emergency. As he lay flat on the bed, he connected a long-range sight at the top of the pistol, and loaded the "magazine" in the butt of the gun.

"Keep down, Kita."

Nikita nodded, still shaking. Michael wore only pajama bottoms as he crawled to the balcony railing (military style), and scanned the view. He almost thought that it was a prank, until he saw a movement on the bridge. It was the assassin that had left the message. Michael could tell, because no one else would be standing on the bridge at one a.m., under a light, with a rifle. Michael took aim, and fired. Nikita heard a scream from someone outside, then the sound of sirens piercing the night.

"Who was it?"

"Let it rest, Kita," He made his way back to bed, and pulled her down toward him, "It was probably some psychopath, or something like that. Rest now." He made it sound like he had just killed a fly. He took her in his arms, and guided her back on to the bed. She lay close to him, and they both drifted off to sleep.

The morning came too soon. Michael lay looking at the pastel shades of dawn give way to a deep blue. Nikita was nestled in his arms, close beside him.

"Nikita," He kissed her lightly on the cheek. "It's 6 A.M., and I'm hungry." She awoke to him nibbling on her ear, and she giggled. "Michael, there's a nice little cafe downstairs. We can go there if you'd like." They wrestled playfully under the covers for a while longer. Nikita made it out of bed first and smiled teasingly at Michael, "I am really hungry. Let's get something to eat."

Michael nodded rather reluctantly.

They both showered, got dressed, and headed downstairs toward the cafe. They had espresso, danishes, and fruit for breakfast while they read the paper. Michael turned the page, and froze like a statue.

"Michael, what is it?" Nikita noticed the worried look on his face.

"The assasin I shot last night, " Michael took a long sip of the strong coffee.

"He was one of the New Operatives I had been training." He showed Nikita the picture, and Nikita was dumbfounded.

"The Section doesn't need to know. He never really made it as an operative: too sneaky, and because of that information he leaked during our last mission, he was to have been cancelled anyway." Michael nodded, and sighed. He had trained Nikita well, and this idea proved just how well he had trained her. He smiled down inside. Michael reached inside his coat and took out a red rose. Nikita took it and smiled at him. "Thank you, Michael. For everything."

"How about a tour of Montreal, cheri?"

He lay the paper aside. They left their troubles at the table, and headed down the boulivard. Together.

The End

Archangel and Spooky this story is dedicated to Roy and Peta. Thanks for the great work!