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Nikita slammed the door behind her and threw her coat on the counter. She stood just inside the door for a moment, trying to calm her hands, which were shaking with fury. Her thoughts were dark and they churned in her brain like a vat of boiling oil. Damn Section and everything else, she thought as she strode over to the radio and flipped it on. Soon, the angry music cascaded out into the room like an army of dark notes floating through the air. Nikita slumped onto the couch and closed her eyes. She could picture the music, the notes, violent and remorseful. Suddenly, the vision twisted in on itself, transformed. The notes became operatives, marching in a line, reaching a certain point before they fell down, dead.

Nikita's eyes fluttered open, trying to erase the picture. She stared at the ceiling and thought about what she had just taken part in. A tear rolled down her left cheek as she relived the memory.

The wind was like a knife as she crouched on the roof, looking down on the courtyard below. A voice came out of the receiver behind her ear. "Nikita, are you receiving?"

It wasn't Michael's familiar voice leading her on this mysterious mission, but Operations'.

"Yes. Where's the target?" Nikita got a better grip on her sniper's rifle and scanned the snow-covered ground.

"Wait for your orders."

She fidgeted, re-checking the ammunition for the third time. Something about this mission didn't feel right. Operations had refused to tell her anything about the target, only that she would recieve instructions as they were made available. Michael had avoided her completely, and Madeline, as usual, refused to answer any questions. Nikita knew they had been working on something for several weeks, but they hadn't told her anything.

She sneaked a glance to where Michael was supposed to be and saw a lock of his unruly hair fly above the wall. She smiled; although she may not be able to trust him with her emotions, she could count on him to back her up if things went wrong.

On the ground below, three men walked out into the courtyard. Nikita frowned, wondering why they were out there. There was Timothy, one of the newer recruits to the Section, and that was Simon, a somewhat mischievous but funny operative. Last, but not least was Christian, the eldest of the three and the one Nikita had befriended early in her training years.

Nikita prepared her rifle, looking for the target to come out and meet with the three. Suddenly, Operations' voice crackled in her ear.

"Take down the one farthest to your left on my command."

Nikita's eyes widened in confusion. "That's one of our people!"

Operations' voice was as cold as the wind that had Nikita shivering. "Take him down when I tell you to."

Nikita's voice failed her and her mind froze up. She automatically brought Christian into her sights, but it was a mindless movement, the result of having to follow orders no matter what.

She caught a glimpse of movement and saw five men walk in from the right. The man in the middle, surrounded by four guards, waved to Christian, who raised his hand in return.

"Nikita, now."

Nikita's finger quivered on the trigger, Christian's head in her sights. She watched his reaction as Timothy and Simon fell to the ground with gunshots to their heads.

"Nikita, shoot now!"

She watched as Christian reached for his gun.

"Nikita, shoot him now or save us the trouble and shoot yourself!"

Nikita's finger rested calmly on the trigger and Operations barely heard her whisper as twin tears rolled down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Christian."

Nikita hugged herself and lay back on couch, crying now not only for Christian, but for herself. The angry music was soothing to the raw edge of this new, gaping wound in the fabric of her soul. She closed her eyes, wishing she could make the image of Christian's body lying dead in the snow disappear.

A knock at the door soon opened them again. Nikita groaned and turned down the radio. It was probably one of her neighbors complaining about the noise. She wiped away her tears and ran a hand through her hair on the way to the door. She looked through the peek-hole and felt a wave of emotion pass through her, a little comfort, but mostly hate and mistrust. The hate was directed more at the Section than at Michael but the mistrust was all his.

Nikita felt a twinge of rebellious spirit stir in her and she walked away from the door without opening it. If he really wants in, he has his own damn key, she thought, again disgusted by the life Section had "given" her. She walked back to the couch and laid down, laying an arm across her eyes. When the knock came again, her free hand grabbed the remote control to the radio and turned up the volume. Sure enough, she thought as she heard a key turning in the latch. Nikita didn't remove her arm from her eyes as she heard Michael's light step entering the apartment and the sound of the door slowly closing shut.

"Get out, Michael. I'm not in the mood for some explanation of Section's motives."

Nikita listened to his footsteps as he approached the couch. She lay still, knowing she should probably tell him to leave again, but a part of her questioned why he was there.

Michael walked away from the couch and towards the radio, his steps almost inaudible. He turned the music down, but not off, as if he know that it was somehow comforting to her. He walked back and laid a gentle hand on the arm that hid her eyes from his view.

The sharp contrast between Nikita's own virulent emotions and Michael's tender touch was too much when added to her grief. A lump of raw emotion in her throat, she flung her arm free of her face, effectively throwing off Michael's hand, and glared up at him, her eyes half-filled with tears.

"Michael, you're one of the last people I want to see right now. Get out."

Nikita watched as an emotion flashed over his face. Was it--what? Pain? Wishful thinking, she thought, looking into his eyes.

Michael held his ground against her verbal onslaught and looked back at her with something so akin to compassion that Nikita couldn't believe who it was she was speaking to. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, almost remorseful.

"I think you need to hear this."

Nikita turned towards him and propped herself up on her elbow.

"All right, I'm listening." she said in a voice that reflected her impatience to have him leave.

Michael took a breath and sat down in the chair across from her. He leaned back and closed his eyes for a minute, as if exhausted. Nikita eyed him cautiously, not allowing herself to ask him what was wrong. He opened his eyes and spoke.

"Christian was canceled because he was leaking information about the Section to an extremist group in Peru."

Nikita's eyes lit up in fury and she sat up, planting her feet on the floor and looking squarely into Michael's eyes.

"You lie. I knew Christian and he would never do anything like that. This is just another cover-up that is--"

Michael interrupted her.

"It's not a lie. I didn't believe it myself at first, so I followed him to a meet. He had copied several of our files and was selling them. Simon and Timothy were also involved."

Nikita glared at him.

"So you're the one who told on him and got him killed."

Michael held her gaze.

"No, I'm not. I was going to ask Christian if he was selling information that would endanger the operatives. If he was, I would have turned him in. If not, then I wouldn't have. But Madeline cornered me before I had a chance to speak with him. She already knew."

Nikita looked at him with some surprise; Michael rarely let anyone know how he was feeling and she hadn't been expecting this explanation of his intentions.

"Why would you protect him?"

Michael let his eyes drift over to the French doors and Nikita almost thought she saw the beginnings of tears. The cynical, angry part of her pushed the thought away with a "Yeah, right."

Michael did indeed blink back tears as he struggled with the past. " We were friends."

Michael forced his gaze back to Nikita, who was stunned to find a hint of pain in his normally emotionless eyes. She thought about her original question and began to get some answers. Why had he come, she had asked. She answered herself. He needed someone to talk to and so did she. They had lost a mutual friend because of the Section. Nikita bit back the sharp words that had initially danced on the tip of her tongue.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Michael closed his eyes and shook his head. Nikita was confused; not only was she dealing with her own collage of emotion, but now she was faced with trying to decipher Michael's strange behavior. She wrinkled her forehead and when she spoke, the confusion was reflected in her voice.

"Then...why did you come? Just to tell me about Christian?"

Michael opened his eyes and quickly stood up. He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a chain bracelet.

"He knew he wasn't going to last much longer, so he told me to give this to you if anything happened to him."

Michael walked the short distance to where Nikita was sitting and dropped the ID bracelet into her upturned palm. He turned and started walking towards the door.

Nikita looked at the bracelet in her hands and turned it so she could see the inscription. She felt a lump rise in her throat as her eyes met the words engraved in gold.

"Forever your friend. Christian"

Nikita's eyes filled with tears as she looked up and saw Michael's figure nearing the door. She spoke the first thought that came into her head.

"Michael, wait."

Michael paused but didn't turn around.

"There's nothing more to say, Nikita."

Nikita stood up, clutching the bracelet tightly in her hand. She was flustered and spoke, forgetting to be worried about revealing her feelings to the most deceptive and enigmatic man she had ever met.

"There has to be more, Michael. Christian was more than an erased file or an 'unfortunate incident'. He was a human being. But with the life we are all forced to lead, if someone doesn't remember him, he might not have ever existed. No one deserves to die and not be mourned, or at least remembered. Not even us."

Michael turned around but his face was shrouded in shadows. Nikita peered at the outline of his face, wondering how her words had affected him. After a long pause, his voice came drifting out, low but with a note of admiration.

"They'll never break you, will they? No matter what they throw at you, you'll always have your free will."

He walked slowly out of the shadows and towards her, his high regard for her written clearly across his face. Nikita was torn between her desire for Michael's apparent attitude to be authentic and the immediate suspicion that it wasn't. She tried to ease the tension as he came closer.

"I thought free will didn't exist in the Section," she paused but Michael kept walking towards her. "Besides, I don't want to die and be forgotten."

Michael stopped about a foot directly in front of her and looked deeply into her eyes.

"You won't." His voice was soft, but Nikita caught herself before she fell into his eyes.

"Michael--"

She was interrupted as he quickly closed the gap between them and covered her mouth with his. Her thoughts were immediately swept away from her suspicions as she lost herself in the ecstasy of his lips against hers. She felt his arms slide around her and she slid her hands up his arms, lightly gripping his biceps.

The kiss broke but he pulled her to him and reclaimed her lips before she could protest. Nikita sucked in a breath as a wave of desire hit her and she deepened the kiss. Michael returned her passion with his own, his arms tightening around her and pulling her even closer. There was not an inch between them as Nikita heard the electronic ring of Michael's cellular phone. She was surprised when he didn't even pause but pulled her into another kiss. He felt her stiffen as the phone rang a second time and pulled back, his eyes searching her face. He didn't reach for the phone and as the third ring faded away like a ghost, she understood why. The phone was a reminder of the last time she had kissed him, a warning of the hurt he could inflict upon her heart; the ringing was a vivid memory, nothing more.

As Michael looked at her curiously, her hands pushed him away slightly as she stepped back. His arms fell from her waist and he watched her, trying to determine her intentions. He received a wary look in return.

"Michael..." her voice cracked very slightly and she steadied it before continuing. "Michael, how do I know I can trust you? You've deceived me before."

Michael stared at her, a mixture of pain and desire flickering across his face. For once, he didn't glance away, as he was prone to do when she cornered him, but looked her straight in the eyes. She was surprised at the honesty and richness of emotion she found there.

"Nikita, you have no reason to trust me, but I'm not deceiving you. I can't think of any way to prove that to you, but I'm not." He paused, searching her eyes. "But if you want me to leave, just say so."

Nikita felt his eyes rake her soul, stirring up hot coals of desire. She slowly went back into his embrace, taking her time and letting her hands gently slide down his chest. This time, she initiated the kiss, savoring his lips as he returned the gesture. She could feel his hands pushing up the back of her shirt and she let her own hands drift under his black sweater. She caressed his hard stomach and the kiss intensified. In a gesture, his coat was on the floor and he was pulling her against him. She took one hand from under his sweater and traced his arm back behind him. She took his hand and broke the embrace. Still holding his hand, she walked slowly towards the stairs. He followed, climbing the steps behind her. When they reached the top, she turned to him and stepped close, letting go of his hand as his arms wrapped around her. Nikita pushed up his sweater and in a moment, in was off. She ran a gentle hand over his chest as he gently pulled off her shirt.

Lifting her, he carried her to the bed and laid her back, coming down on top of her. Nikita's every sense was alive with desire as their lips met once again and she moaned softly in anticipation for the long night ahead.

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

The rays of sunlight filtered through the window and shone brightly on Nikita's eyelids. She slowly became aware of her surroundings as the sun warmed her face. She felt Michael's sleeping figure at her side and opened her eyes to look at his face. She smiled with kiss-swollen lips at the expression of peace on his sleeping visage. She didn't really want to wake him, but she couldn't resist the impulse that suddenly overcame her. She leaned close and softly brushed his lips with hers.

He stirred and Nikita rested her head on his shoulder as his arm tightened around her. She slid an arm across his chest and held him tight. They stayed that way for a moment before he opened his eyes and turned his head toward her. She rearranged herself his embrace and propped herself up on an elbow. He reached up and lightly brushed back the hair that framed her face. Nikita closed her eyes and rested her cheek in his palm.

His thumb caressed the soft skin at her temple and he gently pulled her into a kiss. She was amazed at the strength of her own emotional reaction to the soft, but passionate gesture and when they broke apart, she found herself breathless. She laughed softly to ease the tension that was already beginning to build between them. There was a sparkle to her eyes as she lay back down beside him and rested her head on his chest.

"Good morning to you, too," she said, nestling closer to him.

He said nothing, but Nikita could almost feel his smile, warming her more than the sun.

They lay in companionable silence for a while, Michael's hand gently stroking her back and Nikita was beginning to drift away again when he spoke.

"We can't let them know, not yet."

There was no need to ask who "they" were; the Section was an omnipresent entity in their lives. Michael and Nikita both understood that no matter what they did, the Section would always be there, watching them, monitoring them, controlling them. Michael had told her countless times, in different ways, that freedom was but an illusion, yet now he was telling her to keep the Section in the dark. She looked up at him.

"What would they do if they did find out?"

Michael's hand stopped caressing her back and rested lightly across her spine. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Nikita waited patiently as he struggled with memories she knew nothing of. Finally, he spoke again, his voice laced with sorrow.

"It depends. If they decided not to allow us to be together, they would separate us, whatever it took."

His words made Nikita rest her cheek on his chest and hold him tighter. In response, he pulled her even closer and, with his free hand, picked up her hand that was resting on his chest. He caressed her fingers softly as he continued.

"If they left us to do whatever we wanted, they'd use us against each other, if it served a purpose. Especially Madeline."

Nikita looked back up at him and saw the concern in his eyes.

"Well then, we just won't tell them."

She slid up and kissed him, softly at first, then with gradual intensity. He gave back all the passion he received and they stroked each others' bodies with enthusiasm. As the kiss ended, he flipped over on top of her and kissed her again, his mouth insistent against hers. Her hands ran over his broad back as they heard the ring of a telephone.

Nikita immediately thought it was her memory playing tricks on her again, but as Michael broke the kiss and gave a short sigh, she realized it was real. He got up and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling on his pants. He walked over to where his coat was still on the floor and answered the phone on it's fifth ring. Nikita propped herself up and watched him, hoping he wouldn't have to go, but almost sure he would.

"Yes?'" a long pause and then, "Okay."

He walked back to the bed and sat on the edge next to her. He looked out at the living room then back at her, his face beginning to take on its usual mask-like appearance.

"I have to go. You'll be needed at the briefing in two hours."

Nikita looked at him questioningly.

"Why do you have to go now?"

He reached over and gently touched her cheek, the mask falling again to reveal an expression of desire and regret.

"I don't know. She didn't say."

He leaned over and kissed her quickly before standing up and walking over to retrieve his sweater. Nikita watched as he finished getting dressed and she wrapped the blanket around her as she stood up. Michael stood at the top of the stairs and looked back at her.

"Remember, if Madeline even suspects what's happened, she'll do anything to stop it from interfering with how the Section is run. We'll have to be careful around her."

Nikita nodded and watched with some disappointment as he turned and walked to the door. She sighed and walked towards the shower as the door clicked shut.

Madeline listened to the door close and then took off the headphones she'd been wearing. She turned to Operations, who was also removing his headphones. He turned to face her with a look of admiration.

"You were right about keeping Michael out of the loop when we installed the extra bugs, Madeline. Now, what do we do about the situation?"

Madeline smiled. "Right now, nothing."

Operations gave her a questioning look and she continued, a little irritated that he didn't take her word without question.

"It's what they least expect. Besides, this is a good test of their loyalty to the Section."

Operations stared her down. "These are two of our best you're talking about. If I have to cancel either of them, I'm holding you personally responsible."

With that, he turned and walked out. Madeline watched him go, the smile on her lips filled with more menace than any other gesture on earth.


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