"Damn it, Michael!" She glared at him with a look which clearly stated that if he laughed she’d kill him. Of course this made his mouth twitch; the corners of his lips lifted to a small smile, then the smile widened...

"Michael!"

The sound of her voice did him in - she sounded petulant, whiny even. He bowed his head to avoid her eyes, and started to laugh. "Oh, Nikita, how did you get into this mess?"

"I’ll tell you later - just please get me out of here. I’ve been here for hours!"

Still smiling, Michael stepped away from his leaning pose against the doorway and stepped fully into the bathroom. Quickly closing the distance between himself and the bathtub he came to a halt, looking down at a *very* irritated Nikita. "I’ll want a full debrief on this later," he said with an emotionless voice.

Seeing her eyes widen and then narrow threateningly he quickly decided to leave further ribbing for later - there was a fine line between teasing and humiliation at a time like this. He gave an involuntary shudder as he thought of someone catching him in a situation like this. Or worse, if someone didn’t find him...

Still chuckling a bit and unable to keep the mirth from showing in his eyes he leaned in over the tub to reach the rope that had been hung over the bar that held up the shower curtain. Giving it an exploratory tug to feel how tightly it was tied, he decided that he would need more than just his knowledge of knots to fix this.

"Hey, where do you think you’re going?" she called when she saw him step back and turn around to leave the bathroom.

"I need to get help - wait here," he said, and quickly left.

"Wait here," she muttered. "Very funny." Her voice was tinged with anger and the sarcasm would have had more effect if Michael had been there to hear it. Then it hit her: get help... "Michael," she called, "What are you doing?" Surely he wouldn’t go to fetch an actual person to help him out, would he? No, she decided, he would not do a thing like that, but he might want her to think that he would... What a great moment to develop a sense of humor, she sulked.

With a grim look on her face, she let her body relax and slide deeper into the rapidly cooling water - in her damp state it was still warmer to be in lukewarm bathwater than to be exposed to the chill air. When Michael returned she had, in her mind, re-decorated the whole bathroom - starting with exchanging the bath for a shower.

Showing her a knife - which she recognized as her bread knife - he once again stepped up to the bathtub and leaned in to get to the rope. With a few sawing movements he cut off the rope and gently caught her foot as it fell free. Carefully he slipped the knife into the loop that was tied around Nikita’s ankle and quickly cut that as well.

******

Later, when he was sitting in her bed with Nikita resting between his legs, amongst a sea of soft pillows, he took up the question of how she’d managed to get herself stuck like that.

"It happened in Germany," she told him. "That mission I was on just before you left." Turning her head she looked at him. "The profile was flawed and suddenly there was no safe egress..." she trailed off as she remembered that night. "I had to jump - it was the only way to get out of there without getting shot. Luckily I landed in some bushes that softened the fall."

Turning back so she sat with her back against his chest, Nikita slid down his body and snuggled in closer before continuing the story.

"I don’t really know how I got back to the van - I just did. The drive back was a nightmare - every little bump in the road made my leg feel like it was getting stabbed with a knife."

Looking down at her leg, which they’d propped up on pillows, he eyed the cast and the colorful decoration that Birkoff, Walter and most likely she had painted on it. Then he quietly stated the obvious, "You had broken it."

"Yes. Luckily for me it was a clean break and I will recover fully." Looking at the wrinkled skin on her arm she added, "I wonder if I’ll fully recover from this though - I look like I need ironing."

Chuckling he bent down to rest his chin on her shoulder. Pressing a soft kiss to the sensitive skin behind her ear he whispered, "I like it, it gives me a glimpse of what you’ll look like when you’re old," then he quickly jerked his head back as her hand came up to hit him.

Choosing to ignore the obvious comment that came to her mind after his statement - would Section allow her to get old - she exclaimed, "I was in that bath for three hours. Three hours!"

"You could have called out for help, you know. I’m sure your neighbors would have heard you. Eventually."

"Sure, call out and risk having Mick be the one to find me. I might do some not-so-smart things but I’m not insane. I’d never hear the end of it," she said in a horrified voice. "I knew you were coming over tonight; if you hadn’t come when you did I would have started yelling."

"I’m sure that Mick would have been happy to help," Michael smiled and then added almost as an afterthought, "What makes you think that I will let you forget this?"

Casting him a dirty look, she gave her reply by sighing dramatically, which caused Michael to let out something akin to a giggle. She couldn’t remember when she’d ever seen him in a mood like this. Perhaps she should have tried tying herself up before in her attempts to get a smile out of Michael.

Genuinely curious he asked, "Why did you do it?" Surely there were other ways for someone with a cast that couldn’t take water to get clean...?

"I was tired of sponge baths and balancing on one leg through quick showers. I wanted a good, relaxing bath. Just let myself soak in hot water."

"Seems you got your wish," Michael teased with his newfound sense of humor.

"Oh, be quiet. How was I to know that the rope I used to keep the leg out of the water would swell from the steam, making it impossible to undo the knots?!"

Smiling wickedly, Michael reached over to the bedside table for the rope that had held Nikita hostage in her bathtub for so long. Slowly letting his hands wander he took joy in her first moan and said in a teasing tone, "Want me to tie you up again?"

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