Later Nikita asked herself if she knew that this day would be different.

It started exactly like every other morning: she almost crashed her alarm clock in the attempt of getting up.

Groaning, she turned, just to find herself alone in the bed. Damn! She knew that Michael was at Oversight, because George and he had an important meeting, and that he would be back in a few days. Yet, she missed him… his quiet “good morning” and the smell of fresh coffee.

Rubbing her eyes, she got up, showered, dressed and then, deciding to skip her breakfast, went to Section.

~~~

On her way to her office, she was greeted by most of the operatives. She greeted back, and waved at Walter, who was building a new bomb. Nikita grimaced.

Then, suddenly she changed direction, approaching Birkoff and snatching one of his cookies.

“Hey, Birkoff, sweets in the morning aren’t healthy for you. You’ll get fat,” she teased him, ignoring the irritated glance he shot her.

“Good morning to you, too,” he muttered.

Nikita chuckled, shrugged, and while munching on her prey she asked, “Anything new? Aliens who decided to visit earth and didn’t come in peace, for example?”

“Oh, yeah, Alex said there’d be a candidate for recruiting.” He was already hammering on his keyboard again.

Nikita sighed. She never liked recruiting, but it was one of her jobs, so she went to Alex and peered over her shoulder.

“Birkoff says that you have a possible recruit for me?”

Alex, who was still quite new in headquarters, nodded. Nikita liked her. She was 25 years old, and had transferred from Substation 9 three months ago.

“Yes, it looks pretty good, albeit we don’t have much information yet, but it’s interesting.” Alex pulled up a screen and quickly scrolled through the page.

“Here... 32 years old, female.. her whole family is dead… her parents had been only children… mother died when she was 19, father is missing for 26 years... her husband died four years ago in an accident.. they had a son.”

Nikita shifted uneasily, this was strangely... familiar.

Alex continued. “Somehow, that’s still unconfirmed. She suffered from depression after her husband’s death, moved, and was then blackmailed for money. When she refused, they broke into her house and killed her son. She freaked out… shot two of them with their own guns. Unfortunately for her, this was big business, and the men had connections. We’ll get more intel about that. She was sentenced to life in prison for the murders. Very intelligent and beautiful… so, what do you think?”

Nikita chewed on her lip… could be too old for a field op, but she could be trained in other areas... then Alex found the picture, and she felt her blood running hot through her veins and her legs growing shaky.

“The woman’s name is Elena Samuelle.”

~~~

No. It couldn’t be. Impossible. Completely impossible. Section had Elena and Adam under surveillance.

The thoughts in Nikita’s head were spinning. She didn’t realize that she had gripped Alex’s shoulder hard. The younger woman let out a little cry of surprise and pain, and Nikita was catapulted back into reality and released her.

“Hey.” Alex rubbed her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

She looked up and noticed Nikita’s pale face and her huge blue eyes, which were glued to the screen. That was strange. Her superior was never touched by anything. She was, after all, a Level five op, and third in command. She couldn’t afford to be shocked in front of her subordinates.

Then, abruptly, Nikita pressed her lips together and blinked. “I want this intel transferred to my office - immediately.” Her voice left little doubt as to what Nikita would do with Alex if she didn’t follow her order. Then, the older woman, who was completely clad in white, turned around and left a wondering Alex behind.

~~~

Sighing, Michael fished for his keys and unlocked the door to Nikita’s and his apartment.

It had been a long week and his flight had been delayed - the disadvantages of taking an ordinary airplane - so he was just glad it was night, and thus too late to go Section. At this thought he smiled. Unless there was an important mission, Nikita would be home, too. Michael never called her on his “business trips”- calls could be traced back. Both Section and he didn’t want Red Cell to find him in the middle of a meeting with George… these meetings were unpleasant enough.

When he pushed the door open, he was surprised to see Nikita sitting in the middle of the room cross legged. It was dark, except for a few candles, and completely quiet... so quiet. She sat with her back to him, dressed in a white top and pants, unmoving, but she must have realized that he had entered. When she made no attempt to greet him, Michael knew something was wrong.

Even when she was mad at him, she never ignored him. He carefully shut the door, dropped his bag on the floor, and kneeled in front of her to look at her face. Her eyes were closed, but her face was red and puffy - it was obvious she’d cried. He was taken aback. Nikita hadn’t cried in a long time. In fact, the last time he could remember was when he proposed to her. But those tears had been happy tears, tears of joy and surprise.

“Nikita?” he asked softly, “what’s wrong?”

Her eyes snapped open, and slowly, she reached up to embrace him. She quietly sobbed on his shoulder.

“Adam is dead.”

~~~

No. It couldn’t be. Impossible. Completely impossible.

As Nikita’s were two days before, Michael’s thoughts were a mess.

He whispered hoarsely,” No. That can’t be. Section had them under surveillance, it would have been reported if there was an anomaly...”

”Adam is dead,” his wife repeated. “He was shot during... during...” She couldn’t speak further- it was too painful. One moment her world was okay, in Section’s sense, and the next moment - poof - and your little fancy world was in pieces.

Michael froze slowly. Why? Why was Adam shot? Why was his son - his only child and the only child he’d ever have - dead? He gripped Nikita’s upper arms and shook her.

“Dead? Shot?” he whispered in a voice she could barely understand.

She avoided his eyes - she knew they’d be filled with anguish and pain - and stared instead at his chest, the black shirt and a necktie. Michael despised ties, she noted absently.

“Yes.. he… Elena was blackmailed and didn’t pay and then they came to her house but she was awake and tried to stop them and tried to fight and they… they shot Adam for revenge...” This all came out of Nikita’s mouth in a rush before she looked in his eyes to see his reaction. None. His eyes were void of any emotion, just... empty.

“Michael? Michael!”

He heard her call his name… and that was the last thing he heard before everything went black.

~~~

Strange... strange pictures and sounds invaded Michael’s mind… dreams he hadn’t had in long time. Elena and Adam, smiling happily, playing in their garden, planting a tree. The garden he hadn’t seen in over four years.

Wait.

Something wasn’t right.

Elena. Adam. Adam?

Daddy, daddy, look at me, look at me...

Michael could hear Adam shouting and giggling. And then, a single shot rang out and all turned red. Blood red... And his son looked at him with sad eyes.

Daddy why did you leave me?

He awoke with a jolt and panted. Adam? Blood? The oblivion of sleep was gone and made place for the ugly reality. His son was dead. Shot by some crazy - he didn’t even know who. It didn’t matter.

Stop.

It did matter. Whoever shot Adam, and whoever was in charge of watching them at Section, would pay.

Michael closed his eyes to block out the bright sun rays that poured through the windows. Nikita loved these windows. They were big and reminded her of the French doors in her old apartment. Actually he liked them, too, but now the sun seemed unbearable to him . It was already noon, 11:54 a.m. to be exact. Groaning, he fell back on the bed, now fully awake.

Adam. Adam...

Nikita must have heard something because she came quietly in the room and sat next to him to stroke his hair, like you would have to do with your child when it woke from a nightmare. Silently, Michael sat up and embraced her.

“What happened to Elena?” he asked softly, for the first time consciously thinking about her, and although he was sure he wouldn’t like to hear what had happened to his former wife.

“She…” Nikita swallowed.

She couldn’t explain this without hurting him more than she already had. But he had to know.

“She freaked out… she shot two of the men.”

Michael winced but he was quiet.

Nikita continued. “The men, they belonged to another big organisation and had connections... Elena was sued for murder and sentenced to a life in prison without the possibility of amnesty.”

Michael felt the world fall apart. His former wife, albeit it was a fake marriage, was imprisoned to never see outside again. Their son was dead and he had done nothing to save them... nothing.

“Michael... why weren’t they under surveillance?” Nikita asked gently.

“I... I don’t know... but whoever is responsible for this, will pay.”

His voice had gotten firmer and Nikita knew that this wasn’t a threat, but a promise.

~~~

One week later

Michael was standing in the perch, looking over the main hall. Operatives were busy preparing a mission he didn’t know about. During the week Nikita and he had been absent. Madeline had been leading Section One, and for once had not had the time to play mind games.

Right now she was standing behind him, lost in her own thoughts. Adam, Michael’ s child was dead and Michael had returned to wearing only black clothes. Madeline almost sighed.

She didn’t know how long Nikita had tried to convince Michael to wear brown or green or gray. Of course, Nikita was now wearing black, too. That alone gave Madeline an impression of how deeply these two grieved. It was amazing that the younger woman grieved at all. Madeline herself wouldn’t have shed a tear if the son of her husband by another woman had died.

She thought that she was lucky not to be Nikita.

“What’s the status of Section?” Michael/Operations asked. His voice showed no emotion, nor did his face, but Madeline knew that he was mourning.

“95% capacity,” the second-in-command answered. “During the two weeks you were absent we lost five operatives. That’s within parameters.”

In the instant she’d said those words she could have slapped herself. This sounded as if she had made mistakes and that the operatives who were lost had been valuable. Which they weren’t - at least not in Madeline’s opinion.

Michael winced inwardly. Normally, when Nikita profiled most of the missions, there were hardly any losses. She spent much of her free time in front of her computer to ensure that there were as little losses as possible. Madeline profiled her missions efficiently. They almost always succeeded, but she didn’t care for the operatives or innocent bystanders. She should have learned to value them by now, after three years under Michael, but old habits apparently died hard.

He sighed inaudibly. “What’s the status of Elena? Have you looked at her file?”

“Yes,” Madeline said, “the group which blackmailed her could be a target for us. They call themselves Black Wing and they’re involved in everything: blackmail, prostitution, hacking... however, I updated her psyche profile. Do you want to see it?”

That was a purely rhetorical question. She knew he would read it over again and again, just to make sure that there were no mistakes.

“Yes,” Michael whispered.

Madeline nodded, put the disk on his desk, and slipped out of the room.

~~~

Michael sighed, rubbed his temples in the vain attempt to get rid of a pounding headache, and closed his eyes.

It had been a long day. First he’d had to deal with Madeline, then he had to look over all the profiles she’d designed in his absence, and the only thing he was looking forward to - dinner with Nikita - had been cancelled because of a sudden mission. Damn.

He had read the profile of Elena that Madeline had given him, and that made his bad day really bad. He looked at the data again. The 10th time. After his supposed death and her father’s real death, she had fallen into depression. She didn’t care for Adam or anything else. She didn’t even attend the funerals. This went on for at least three months; then she went therapy and things got better. She got a job in a hospital, moved into a new house, and then, somehow, came in contact with Black Wing. The file didn’t say much about that. She’d probably bought a house that was one of Black Wing’s properties.

If there had been just minimal surveillance, this wouldn’t have happened.

Section would never work that sloppily, and once you knew what you were searching for, Black Wing was an easy target. Operations - Paul - had promised to protect them. And obviously had broken this promise.

When Michael became Operations, he’d gained the required clearance to see videos of them, their files, everything. He had done that one time.

And had seen that he couldn’t live in the past.

Nikita had helped him through that time, encouraged him, comforted him. But he had decided not to watch the videos again, because it reminded him of a time he couldn’t go back to. So Michael ensured surveillance, at least until Adam was an adult, and ordered that he be notified in case something went wrong. You could have thought that blackmail, murders and imprisonment was important enough, but there never was a report about them on his desk. That meant that there hadn’t been any surveillance at all.

And this, Michael promised himself that he would find the person responsible for this mess and punish him… or her.

But now he focused on the file again. Elena’s psyche profile wasn’t very good. It indicated that she went into shock after Adam’s death. Now all the people who’d been dear to her were gone. She was mentally fragile and wouldn’t survive in prison; her soul and spirit would be crushed. If she hadn’t appeared on Section’s recruitment list...

Michael had thought of all the possibilities. Setting her free was one of them. Getting her out of prison was easy, but Black Wing had too many connections. They would realize that something wasn’t right, and would begin searching, and it wouldn’t be long until they knew of her father, who was practically nonexistent, and of her husband, who almost had no family background, whose schools and universities had been burned down or destroyed otherwise, who had no old school friends...

One step farther and they’d know about Section. Michael wasn’t going to let her die. She was innocent, despite her murders, and if she hadn’t met and married him, she would have led a happy life without terrorists, clandestine organisations, and a husband who was a killer.

There was one possibility left… the worst.

~~~

“You want to do what?” Nikita asked her husband incredulously. “Recruit her? Are you insane?”

She stood behind him, her arm in a sling, a reminder of her latest mission. She was dumbfounded.

Recruit Elena? Out of the question. This woman was sweet and innocent. Elena couldn’t kill on command, Nikita was sure. And she would be shocked to find out that Michael was alive. Sooner or later she would have to face that fact, and the reality of Nikita’s relationship with him. She didn’t even want to think about that scenario.

But she wasn’t stupid. She had read the profile and knew that a woman like Elena, seemingly weak and still in shock about the whole affair would be welcome prey for the women in jail. Nikita knew that, having had experienced it herself.

“But... can’t we just set her free? I’m sure Birkoff could cover her identity and...”

Michael interrupted her softly. “No. Black Wing’s speciality is computers. They have connections to Red Cell and other organisations. Elena wouldn’t survive. The only possibility is to recruit her, train her and prepare her...”

Suddenly, Nikita understood. “I’ll train her?” That was a statement, not a question.

“Bring her in.”

~~~

Brightness.

Whiteness.

And a voice, female, deep and husky, eerily familiar.

“Good morning.”

Elena’s eyes snapped open. The first thing she thought was, my God I’m in heaven.

Then her eyes started to roam and she sat up from what looked like a military cot. Everything white.

Stop.

Not everything.

Next to her was a chair, with a person sitting on it, completely dressed in black. A person she hadn’t seen in over four years.

“Nikita?” Elena asked unsurely. “Where am I?” Nikita smiled, a very, very sad smile, and rose.

Elena noticed visible changes. This wasn’t the vibrant woman who had been a relative of her husband. The blackness of her suit and the white room behind her let her appear surreal. Her face expressed nothing, and her eyes were sad and didn’t sparkle.

“You’re not in prison anymore. The world thinks you’re dead. Suicide. This is your funeral.”

With these words, exactly the words Michael had spoken to her so long ago, Nikita took out a photograph and gave it to Elena, who sat very still on the stretcher, dressed in white, her dark hair loose and tousled, hanging in her face. The woman stared stunned at her, mouth slightly agape, her eyes full of wonder.

“Funeral?” she whispered and grabbed the picture. It wasn’t as empty as Nikita’s had been; some men and women stood around the fresh grave, some of them crying.

Elena looked at the picture numbly, trying to get a grip on reality. One moment she was in her cell, crying herself to sleep, the next moment she was in a white room, with a photo of her own funeral in her hands.

However, Nikita didn’t give her time to recover because she saw the questions in Elena’s eyes.

“You’re in Section One, the most covert anti-terrorist organisation on this planet. We’ll train you, beginning tomorrow, five a.m.”

Suddenly Nikita wanted to get out of this room. Out of this room, out of Section, out of everything. She looked a last time at Elena who still stared at the picture, turned around and walked through the door.

Elena still couldn’t understand. What was Nikita doing here? Elena had thought she was perhaps dead, too, because she never saw her again… there never was a trace of her. Perhaps she was so shocked that she had fled without a conscious thought.

The door opened. She looked up, expecting Nikita again, but instead saw an elderly woman with short gray hair and watery green eyes, which looked as sad as Nikita’s.

“Come with me,” she said quietly.

Elena slowly stood up, clutching the photograph to her breast, and followed the woman out the door. She shivered - it wasn’t really warm in this... dungeon - and she was barefoot. The woman went along a corridor, into an elevator and waited patiently for Elena to come. Then she punched in a code and the doors shut silently.

Elena was still caught in her own little world of despair and didn’t pay much attention to her surroundings until they stood in front of a gray door.

Much here was gray.

Again, the woman without a name, typed a number in the panel next to the door and it opened. The room wasn’t very big - a bed, a desk, a wardrobe, some shelves. Another door… the bathroom, she supposed.

“These are your quarters,” the woman said in an eerie unemotional voice, almost detached. “You can’t leave them until tomorrow morning. Be ready at five a.m..”

The door shut and Elena was left standing in the room, completely alone and very, very frightened.

~~~

She didn’t know how long she stood there, just brooding.

‘5 a.m.’, the woman had said. How late was it anyway? She began to look around the room and sat on the bed. On the small table next to it was an alarm clock.

11:43 a.m.

Quite late morning, almost noon. Elena stood up and opened the wardrobe. It was full. Full of new, unused clothes. White, gray, black, a grayish blue. Nothing colorful. Now she registered that her feet were as cold as ice. She quickly donned a pair of socks and went to the bathroom.

White.

A white sink, white floor, white toilet...

And now, in this moment, Elena knew that her old life was over… in these quarters where everything was new and unused, so sterile and impersonal that it hurt. How could she live with so much unfamiliarity?

A quiet sob escaped her lips. With her hands on the sink, she stared at her face in the mirror. She was pale and too thin. Her eyes had lost every sparkle and looked lifeless. Her hair, always brushed and shiny, was now a dirty black mess which hung in her face.

Who are you? Elena asked her reflection.

A murderer, it whispered back quietly. She smiled bitterly. A murderer. That she was indeed. A woman who’d killed two men and didn’t really regret it. It was the first time she realized that she didn’t regret their deaths.

They killed Adam in cold blood. They had deserved it - hadn’t they?

~~~

Nikita sat next to Michael in his office and watched Elena through the camera. She looked so fragile and breakable. Now she went to the bathroom and Michael cut the surveillance.

“What do you think?” he asked softly. “Will she make it?”

Nikita sighed. She wasn’t so sure about the answer.

On the one hand, Elena was strong. Not many people could witness the deaths of their husband and father and find the strength to go on with life. Perhaps it was good for Elena to know the reasons for the shooting. At least she wouldn’t blame herself for the incident anymore.

On the other hand, for almost her entire adult life, she had believed that she had married a loving and caring husband. How would she react to his betrayal? Perhaps she would shut herself off. Feel nothing but hatred. Or she would break completely. Or try to ignore the facts...

“Nikita?”

She snapped out of her thoughts and realized that she had zoomed out. Michael looked at her patiently. He was concerned, too. He hadn’t foreseen that it would be so painful to see Elena again. Of course, it was only by video, but he could almost feel her anguish. He wanted to comfort her and take away her pain and guilt. But instead of easing her pain he only would make her suffer. She would hate him for what he had done, understandably so. He wished he could transfer her so Elena wouldn’t meet him. But that wasn’t possible. She would be treated like any other recruit and she needed special training, training that only Nikita could give her. Damn.

“I think so.” Nikita answered after a silence that had lasted for a minute. “I have to make clear Section’s way of operating... especially Paul’s way of operating.”

She had hesitated before finishing the sentence. A lot of bad memories surfaced with the name of the former Operations.

“Shall I introduce her to Madeline first?”

“ Yes,” Michael replied, “after that, take her to the training rooms and evaluate her personally. You know what to do.”

Nikita nodded. “And you? You can’t hide for very long, you know. Sooner or later she’ll find out who you are.”

“I know,” Michael whispered. “I know.”

~~~

He sat in front of his laptop, searching for the surveillance data on Elena and Adam. He knew if the surveillance had been cancelled, he could find out who was responsible. Only operatives with level five status or higher could access this file. In headquarters, those were Nikita, Madeline and himself. Well, and Birkoff, if he really tried. Having found the file, he typed in his code.

ACCESS DENIED flashed in happy green letters across the screen. He frowned and retyped the code. Same result. Michael looked at his screen and the message for a moment, then rose and headed for the elevator.

~~~

“NO!”

Elena awoke with a start and realized that she’d had the nightmare again. She never could remember it, but she knew that all the people she loved had died.

Again.

Her mother.

Michael.

Adam.

Her father.

Did she love her father? Elena never knew him. He had left her and her mother. He had never been there when her mother had cried. He hadn’t been there when her mother died, partly of a broken heart. He hadn’t been there when she married Michael, or when Adam was born.

But he had been there when you almost died, a tiny voice in her head whispered.

And then he died.

Elena sat up and stared into the darkness. No, she didn’t love her father. But she kept telling herself that she was responsible for his death. He had died because of her. She didn’t know why, but in the end it was irrelevant. All what was dear to her was gone. Adam had been her last anchor to this world, the only person who could still make her smile and laugh. She had lived because of Adam, to give him an illusion of normality. When her son had died, the last part of her heart was crushed.

She had been in shock after his death, of course. She had cried, but not for Adam. For herself, the lost person she was. When Elena had been in prison she often thought about suicide. To end it all would have been so easy.

But because of her, people had died. She didn’t deserve death.

Elena stood up and switched the lights on. The brightness seemed cold and unforgiving. She slowly walked to the desk and stared at the picture that lay on it… the picture of her supposed funeral. She sat on the metal chair and touched the gravestone in it. She couldn’t make out the text on the stone, just her name.

Elena Samuelle.

Did she deserve that name?

She wasn’t buried next to her husband but in the local graveyard near where she had lived. Elena hadn’t written a testament. It had seemed so unnecessary… death had been so far away. None of her new friends had known the details of her past, and she had broken all links to it. How stupid she had been.

Now Adam was alone, too. Utterly alone.

Elena stared with hollow eyes at the photo, then picked it up and tore it slowly to shreds. Her past was dead. Nobody really knew her anymore.

And she was alone.

~~~

Nikita was nervous.

She had to bring Elena to Madeline and she didn’t look forward to seeing Elena again. She would have to show her the still, cruel world of Section, teach her how to fight and how to survive. And then she would show Elena the truth about her father and beloved husband. Just great.

A part of Nikita hated Michael for his decision to recruit Elena. They would destroy what was left of her, destroy her peaceful memories. But it was clear that Elena couldn’t survive without training in the real world anymore.

Black Wing knew her face; even with a new identity they could recognize her. She would be unprepared and defenseless. But the only thing that had Nikita convinced to train Elena was her psych profile. It indicated that she blamed herself for the death of Michael and Adam, and that she saw no reason to live anymore. If Section showed her that she was innocent, perhaps Nikita could pull her out of the abyss.

She sighed and knocked on the door to Elena’s room.

~~~

The sharp knock on her door jerked Elena out of her brooding. After her nightmare she couldn’t find peace in sleep. She had taken a very long shower until she couldn’t bear the cold water anymore and had dressed. Something dark. Gray slacks, a black sweater. And she had waited.

Now she rose and opened the door, not surprised to find Nikita there. Today she was wearing black, again, and her hair was down and flowed over her shoulders.

“Come with me,” Nikita said softly.

“Where are we going?” Elena asked.

Yes, where were they going? They reached a big hall. There were many people; most of them were sitting at computers and typing. It was quiet. Almost too quiet. Elena looked up and saw something like a vantage point; it had dark windows and she couldn’t see what or who was in it, but she couldn’t get rid of the feeling of being watched.

Nikita led her to an office. A woman was sitting behind a desk, typing on her keyboard and looking completely relaxed. When she looked up, Nikita nodded shortly in her direction and retreated. The woman was beautiful… brown hair, chocolate brown eyes, and she was the first person in this place who smiled. But the smile didn’t reach her eyes, and she had a coldness around her that made Elena want to run away.

“Sit down, please.”

Her voice was soft and should have sounded warm, but it also held a hardness, an indifference that was difficult to describe. She sat down hesitantly, suddenly feeling frightened again. Elena stayed silent and after a while the woman smiled again, colder than the last time.

“My name is Madeline. You are in Section One, the most covert anti-terrorist organisation on this planet. We’ll teach you all you’ll need to work for us. To the world outside, we’re ghosts, and don’t exist. We’re going to be your new family, Elena.”

~~~

When Elena was dismissed, she felt half dead. The woman, Madeline, had shown her her a schedule and explained the basic philosophy of Section. The whole “any means necessary” thing gave her the creeps.

Killing people? She should do that? During the whole session she had felt like she was in a cage or under a microscope. She wasn’t aware of the fact that any operative could have given her this information; for Madeline this was an evaluation of her mental condition and a way to update her file.

Elena found Nikita talking to an old man who looked more like a biker than anything else. Leather pants, long hair in a ponytail and a bandana. And in his hands he held a gun so casually, like another man would have held a notebook or a sandwich. But he didn’t have an aura of dangerousness or coldness like Madeline, or the indifference of the woman who had shown her her room. He had an aura of friendliness and calmness that astonished Elena.

When she approached them, Nikita smiled. “This is Walter, our weapons expert. If you have problems or questions about the equipment, you can ask him, okay?”

Elena nodded and waited for Nikita’s introduction of her; but nothing happened. Did this Walter know her? Walter grinned.

“So you’re Elena. Nikita told me about you, and that you’ll be her recruit.”

She nodded again, hesitantly.

Nikita cleared her throat. “Ahm, Walter, I think I’ll need a helmet.”

Elena was still pale and looked slightly stunned - well, that wasn’t an uncommon reaction after an hour with Madeleine. Now she’d learn to defend herself. Nikita grabbed the helmet and took Elena to one of the training areas.

~~~

“Again.” Nikita ordered.

Elena kicked, tried to block Nikita’s blow, and landed on the mat for the umpteenth time. She groaned. Every single bone in her body hurt, bones she hadn’t even known existed. The last three hours had been hell. Her ‘trainer’ beat the crap out of her, and she hadn’t even started to fight seriously yet. Elena saw other people - operatives, as Madeline had referred to them - fighting, and groaned again. She was supposed to learn that? Impossible. Completely nuts.

She wasn’t James Bond for God’s sake, she was Elena Samuelle!

Nikita waited patiently, but when Elena didn’t rise she ordered with a sharp voice, “Again. Concentrate on my moves and try to block them. Now, stand up and try again.”

Something snapped inside of Elena. It was enough. For hours she’d fought, or at least tried to, and now Nikita expected her to stand up and go for another round?

She wearily stood up and hissed, “Who do you think you are? Do you really think I’m in any condition or the mood to fight you?… after three hours called ‘training’? Training… this is ridiculous! You’re supposed to teach me something, show me something, moves or whatsoever! But no, you just kick and I land on the mat! And me, I just stand up and the whole thing starts all over again! I think you can go to hell!”

She panted heavily. Elena had spent all of her energy, all her bottled up anger and rage. Perhaps she was too weak for this, or too stupid. She didn’t care about punishment, she just wanted to rest. Perhaps they’d kill her on the spot; at least it would all be over then.

She gazed at Nikita’s face, expecting to see surprise, anger, perhaps even pity - but… nothing. Her face was totally void of any emotion and blank as a mask. Her eyes seemed huge, a dark blue, hard as stones.

And then, suddenly and totally unexpected, Nikita kicked out and Elena found herself on the mat again. Nikita was over her in a second, gripping her arms and pinning her to the floor. Her voice was soft, almost a whisper.

“If you prefer to live, you’ll do as I tell you. I won’t accept further insubordination; neither will Madeline or Operations. Now, have a shower and come to my office in 20 minutes. Understood?”

Without waiting for a reply, Nikita rose and left the room.

~~~

At first, Elena couldn’t move. She was too stunned. This wasn’t the Nikita she thought she knew; this was an entirely different person. Sure, four years changed a person, especially in this place, from what she’d seen, but not so thoroughly. She seemed so cold, so aloof. Oh, she smiled, but the most time, Nikita’s beautiful blue eyes were blank. Elena had seen this before. Michael’s eyes had looked like this.

One evening, they’d watched the news on TV. He’d returned from an important business trip that day, and was tired. But then there was a report about a blown up factory, an accident, nothing special. Michael’s body had gone rigid in her arms, and he hadn’t said a word during the rest of the evening. The next day he’d returned to his normal self again, but his eyes had had the same haunted look as Nikita’s.

Elena got up and staggered out of the room.

~~~

Darkness.

Stillness.

No sound audible. Nikita was in her office, the blinds closed, the door shut, the light off. She released her breath and opened her eyes to see nothing than blackness.

Her outburst had surprised herself the most. Her anger wasn’t even directed against Elena; she had done relatively fine for her first day.

Nikita vividly remembered her first training session with Michael. It had been a disaster. He’d been so cold then, and his lack of emotion had infuriated her so much that she had shouted at him and stomped out of the room. Why she hadn’t been cancelled on the spot was still a mystery to Nikita.

No, her anger had been bottled up for weeks, since Michael’s decision to recruit Elena. The knowledge of Adam’s death, another potential enemy for Section, no free time, and the absolute helplessness of the whole situation. Plus Madeline’s “the-cat-ate-the-canary” smile. Michael had seldom been at home, mostly just to sleep and eat. Just great. He searched, with Birkoff’s help, for clues of the cancellation of surveillance, with no result.

And Nikita had to keep her trainee away from Michael until she was emotionally stable enough to face him and the lies of the past.

Nikita sighed. These walls... always so gray and restricting. She just couldn’t bear it anymore. Nine years stuck in this... this hell. Well, it wasn’t hell anymore. Operatives had more freedom, almost no abeyance missions and no Paul - but the walls were still the same. How would all this darkness appear to Elena? She’d been in prison for so long...

And then Nikita had an idea.

~~~

The monotone sound of his keyboard was the only thing Michael had heard for hours. He’d used all of his hacking skills to trace the surveillance team in charge for the file labeled “Samuelle”, but it was pointless. It seemed as if surveillance had never existed, simply vanished and gone. Which was impossible.

He ceased to type and stared at his screen.

Of course, he could always ask Madeline, but he’d rather bite his tongue off. He suspected that his second in command had something to do with this; he doubted that Madeline had forgiven him for removing Operations. She was too smart to express this in any overt way, but Michael had read her file, and it indicated an involvement with Paul in her earlier years.

Interesting.

He didn’t want to get Oversight involved, and to hack into their system was a bit too risky if he could get this information some other way. Besides, they only had the absolute minimum of Section’s files; chances were slim to none that they possessed highly classified surveillance tapes.

But if Madeline had something to do with this, would she destroy all material, or would she keep at least a part of it for her own purposes? Where would she keep something like that?

Michael closed his eyes. He was exhausted; he had worked during the night and the night before; now he just wanted to go home and sleep. But first he had to look over the current missions, then he had to read Madeline’s and Nikita’s daily reports, go through the abeyance list... he started to type again.

~~~

Elena knocked on the door and entered. Nikita’s office wasn’t what she’d expected, yet it fit in this strange place…very small, with dim lights, and the only furniture was a desk and two chairs. Nikita sat behind that desk, reading. She looked at Elena.

“Please, sit down.”

She sat down hesitantly, unsure how to react. Nikita was so calm again and looked impeccable in a dark blue suit, her wet hair pulled back, her makeup perfect.

“I… I wanted to apologize for my behavior. It wasn’t your fault that I was in a bad mood,” Nikita said softly, looking directly at Elena.

That was certainly unexpected. Of all the things Elena had thought Nikita might say, this wasn’t one of them. But Nikita sounded so sincere, so honest...

She smiled slightly. “It’s… it’s okay, really. I shouted at you first.” The younger woman stood up.

“Come on, time for your next lesson. I think you’ll have to change clothes first, though.”

A little embarrassed, Elena looked down at her clothes. In her hurry not to come too late, she’d dressed only in new sweatpants and a top.

“For what?” she asked as casually as possible, trying not to show how nervous she really was. Yeah, what was next? Learning how to shoot? Please no. She didn’t think she was ready to hold a gun again. Nikita sensed her nervousness.

“Oh, don’t worry, just wear normal clothes. We’re going out.”

~~~

Very interesting.

Madeline watched Nikita’s office through a special surveillance camera she’d installed herself. One of her personal informants had sold it to her… a new model, undetectable if you searched for the normal type of surveillance equipment. When Michael had became the head of Section, he’d removed all surveillance cameras except those from the recruits’ quarters and the abeyance operatives. But luckily Madeline had her own sources.

Now she saw Nikita telling Elena that they were going out. That did surprise her. She’d expected something like that, but not so soon. Sometimes Nikita still managed to mess up with Madeline’s sims. Well, not that it mattered. She valued a good challenge.

~~~

“Going out?” Elena asked, taken aback.

Madeline had explained that only recruits who’d passed a couple of tests were allowed to go out. Elena thought it cruel to be stuck in this place without seeing the sun or breathing fresh air. She missed her garden, the park Adam used to play with his friends, and sometimes even the noisy city when she’d been in prison. But she’d sunk so deep in her misery that she hadn’t really realized that.

~~~

Nikita stood next to Elena, watching her. She had her eyes closed and let the sun shine directly on her face. She inhaled deeply and smiled.

“Thank you.”

Nikita was glad that she had brought Elena out. Sure, it was against protocol, but in this case... She was aware of the risk - Elena couldn’t defend herself, nor did she have a gun. But to see her smile alone was worth it.

She remembered perfectly the first time she’d been out of Section, with Walter. After three months underground, she’d been sick and tired of her small room; she’d gone to Michael and had asked him about going out. The answer was a quick glance, and a “Not yet”, and she’d found herself in front of his closed office door, fuming. But Nikita had wanted out badly, at least for some hours, so she’d gone to Walter and flirted a bit with him - and he had taken her out for three hours ‘survival training’.

The look on Michael’s face when she’d come back had been priceless.

“Where do you want to go?” Nikita asked Elena.

She opened her eyes, seemingly surprised. “Where can I go? Can I buy something?”

She wasn’t too sure if she wanted to buy anything at all. After all, she’d woken up in a scary white room barely 36 hours ago... two days ago she’d been in prison.. it was all so far away it seemed almost surreal. But here she stood, nearly free to go anywhere, and she wasn’t going to miss one single moment.

~~~

Two hours later and Elena was exhausted. Her body still ached from her workout and Nikita had dragged her through the whole city on foot, or so it seemed. She’d shown her shops, parks, cafes, basically everything you had to know if you lived in this city. But did she really live here now?

Although Nikita had talked and explained a lot to Elena this day, she’d managed to keep her emotional distance and to avoid all personal questions. But now they sat in a bistro drinking coffee, and Elena asked Nikita the question that had bothered her since Nikita’s cool “Good morning” the other day.

“Why are you here, Nikita?” she said finally.

The younger woman stirred slowly in her cup and stared out of the window. She didn’t even seem surprised.

“I mean, I wake up... and am in some kind of James Bond thing... you know what I mean... but you…of all people! I expected you to be the last person to be in a place like this,” Elena gushed when Nikita stayed silent.

Eventually Nikita looked at Elena and sighed. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me or my past... but you aren’t ready to know yet. One day I’ll tell you all you want to know, but not now.”

Now Elena got a little bit angry. Why wasn’t she ready? What could possibly be so bad that Nikita couldn’t tell her about it? Or was it forbidden to speak about such things?

Nikita took one last sip and stood up, thereby effectively ending their ‘talk’.

“Are you finished? Then let’s go back.”

~~~

When Michael got home that evening, it was late, even for him. His car clock showed 2:14 a.m. when he finally got out of the car and took the elevator to the apartment. Nikita would probably be asleep; it had been a hard day for her, too. He missed her. Having a recruit changed her schedule, and she hadn’t come to see him today.

Only one day without seeing her and he already missed her. Talk about weakness.

As he opened the door, he couldn’t have wished for a more beautiful sight: his wife, still fully dressed, soundly asleep on the couch. He smiled and shut the door with a soft click. Nikita didn’t stir. He slowly approached her, laying his coat on a chair, and kneeled in front of the couch so he could see her face. It was peaceful; she looked like an angel with her blonde hair around her face. Michael didn’t want to wake her but he couldn’t resist the temptation. He gently touched her lips with his, letting them linger there for a moment before he leaned back and cupped her face with his hands.

Nikita’s eyes fluttered open and when she saw Michael she smiled broadly and embraced him. It was an awkward position: she, still lying half on the couch, he, sitting on the wooden floor. But it didn’t matter now. He was home, with her; that was all that mattered.

~~~

Nikita awoke feeling quite refreshed and relaxed despite the early hour. The smell of fresh coffee greeted her, which could mean only one thing: Michael was still home. The last week had been pure stress, due to the absence of both him and her for a week. Not that Madeline wasn’t capable of doing her job, but one person alone couldn’t run Section, not even Madeline.

Michael was making French toast when a pair of warm arms slipped around his waist and he was greeted by Nikita’s somewhat sleepy “Good morning.” He grinned faintly. She’d never been a morning person, and could be in a very bad mood if she didn’t get enough sleep, a fact that Michael had learned the hard way.

“Good morning. Slept well?”

“Mmmh,” Nikita murmured. “I always sleep good with you beside me...”

Which wasn’t too often in this days… he knew that. As Operations, he always had to be on call and near headquarters. Some of the substations were revamped, and in headquarters itself, a new area especially for trainees had been built. Sometimes, when Michael’s work was done, he’d look at his watch only to realize that it was already morning.

But Nikita had known this when she married him and she never complained… well, almost never.

Although they talked during breakfast, they only talked about things a normal couple would discuss: a new novel, articles in the newspaper (although the articles about politics were awfully wrong sometimes), and Nikita wanted to do a bit redecorating. Again.

But they avoided the topic of Section One almost completely. It was an unspoken agreement between them not to discuss job-related matters in their free time unless it was absolutely necessary. It was an attempt to maintain a sense of normality, and to keep their jobs separated from the rest of their life. They spent most of their time in Section anyway, and although relationships were generally allowed, open displays of affection were not. Most of the operatives didn’t even know that Michael and Nikita were married; it was better so, and they had decided to keep it that way.

~~~

They were on their way to Section when Nikita broke the silence.

“Michael, what about Elena?”

“What about her?” he asked back.

She hesitated. “Well, you know... I can’t keep her away from you forever. Sooner or later she’ll find out that you’re alive, and in her state of mind, that’ll be a dangerous thing - she’s too fragile.”

He could see the problem: sure, he could hide from Elena for a few days, perhaps even weeks, but not until she was finished with training.

He frowned. “How far along is level 10?” That was the huge area currently being built for recruits and operatives in reprogramming.

“It’ll be at least two or three weeks until it can be used. They’re testing it right now. There are still some difficulties with the simulators though. I’ll get the report today.”

Two weeks. That was still within schedule, even ahead of it, but still too slow for his taste. But it should be possible to avoid Elena for two or three weeks… after that, all recruits would be transferred to level 10 anyway, and he could deal with this issue later.

Having reached their destination, one of the entrances to Section, Nikita embraced Michael and kissed him softly on the lips. He responded enthusiastically but she pulled away before it could get too passionate.

“ ‘Til later.” she whispered. “I love you.”

With those words, she kissed him once more and stepped into the waiting elevator. He stayed there until the doors had shut, then turned and walked in the opposite direction to another entrance. Another agreement, not to enter Section together. It would be too conspicuous if Operations and his third in command entered together every day.

As the elevator descended, Michael sighed softly. Another long day had begun.

~~~