Prologue

"Are you telling me there is NO way to retrieve them sooner?"

"Not without entering the country through more visible borders. It will take three days for a team to follow the same route as Michael."

"Three days to undo all the progress made in the last three months."

"I don't believe so. Any regression on her part would have shown up by now. The close monitoring in place indicates this not to be the case."

"Well I'm pleased you have such faith in your techniques Madeleine, because I will not accept Michael and Nikita holding back the implementation any longer."

"We can proceed as planned. There will not be a resurgence of their relationship. Michael has accepted Nikita no longer wants to be with him. He is ready to move on."

"For all our sakes I hope you are right"

********

The scream reverberated around the mountainside, frightening rodents who scampered for cover. A bone chilling cry sounded long and agonised as the victim fought desperately to escape the clutches of the killer. As quickly as the silence had been broken, it was restored. Ripped apart, a blood soaked throat was no longer capable of uttering a sound.

Michael, having drawn his weapon when the terror filled cry had first sounded, returned it to his holster as he watched the killer speed away. The hawk circled once over the area, a contemptuous, arrogant display of power and victory. The blood from the limp rodent slid from the talons and slipped over the razor tipped ends, to fall to the ground below. A final insult and warning sent to the inhabitants now hidden within the depths of the forest.

Michael saw the shudder of horror from Nikita and automatically raised his hand to her neck. As if sensing the movement behind her, she straightened her back and continued to push through the dense bush.

His open hand suspended in mid air, lost, unsure then it slowly clenched in frustration and anger. With many to blame but no one present to make accountable, he suppressed the rage welling up and let out a silent sigh. His mind replayed the numerous rejections on her part from the last three months. The avoidance of his touch, the ice blue eyes showing nothing but coldness, the conversations that only allowed work to dominate.

Whatever they had used on her was like no mind technique he had encountered before. The suffocating surveillance on them both had not allowed him the opportunity to break through her barriers with the time he knew was needed.

Except for now.

Unsure of how to approach her, Michael decided to follow her lead and just wait for any window of hope. They had at least 48 hours before pickup. He could afford to muster a little more patience. He could suppress his longing for a few more hours. He could hold back his words of love until she was ready and able to hear them.

And so he followed her.

***********

The next two hours of steady trekking covered many miles up the vast mountainside. The stream trickled downwards, their guide to the water source that would provide their camp for the next few days. As the water increased with bubbling intensity, the swelling volume indicated they were getting closer. Michael, now leading, pushed through dense, lush, green fernery for several minutes until he finally found a breakthrough. Stopping in his tracks to take in the sight before him, Michael left only a small space for Nikita behind him. Stepping from the clutching tendrils of curling fronds, she stood directly behind him and before she could repress her surprise, Nikita let out a sigh of wonder.

Michael felt the release of her warm breath on his neck and with a brief closing of eyes, allowed it to wash over him, luxuriating in the misty shiver that tingled across him. Reopening them, he once more took in the sight that had caused one of the few, genuine reactions from her over the past several weeks.

High above a rocky enclosure poured a fountain of white, foaming water. It cascaded from several feet above, fell to form a pool of water on a wide ridge further up then gently poured over the edge to form a second, less intense waterfall.

The gentle flow from this waterfall fell like the liquid silk of a bridal veil, white merging into blue as if coloured dyes had run. Then swirls and mounds of the blue silk slid to gather then fan out into soft ripples, forming a wide, circular train.

Rocks to one side rose out of the water. Appearing to the left was a small rock pool with fermenting, frothy bubbles pouring over the rounded granite wall. As the clear liquid hit the larger pool of water, steam hissed, protesting its plunge into the cold depths of the adjoining pool. In a curious quirk of nature, ice cold forces from above clashed then harmonised with the fiery heat surging from underground to form nature's equivalent of a steaming, inviting bath.

Nikita, carefully stepping around Michael to avoid the slightest contact, moved forward while removing her backpack.

"This looks fine" she said and with those few words she crouched down and began to unpack her equipment.

Michael stood for a few minutes. As if seeing a mirror image of himself, he watched as the efficient, single minded operative before him carried out her tasks in the most Section like manner. Having for so long wished for Nikita to adopt these traits in order to avoid the constant clashes, he now wished for anything but this.

Trying to create any sense of togetherness, Michael moved beside her and began to replicate her movements. Within a few minutes, their camp was set up. A small fire providing heat, a re-hydrated meal cooking above the flames. Nikita crouched again, stirred the aromatic stew and in doing so, once more provided a barrier of avoidance with her actions.

They ate in silence, cleaned their dishes in silence and then sat opposite one another. In silence. For an hour or more. Michael now initiated his own waiting game. In a way, if the stakes were not so high for both of them, Michael could have found the situation amusing.

His years of conditioning, training, patience in the games played within Section were too much of a match for any implantation into Nikita's mind. If they weren't so deadly serious, Michael could almost feel contempt for their underestimation of himself.

And of Nikita.

***********

In the end Michael decided to pull rank in order to connect with Nikita. In her mind she now lived for the Section and despite any misgivings on her part, she would not ignore a direct command from her superior.

"I need to assess your injuries again Nikita"

She gave no indication of hearing him so Michael lowered his voice which gave strength to the order.

"You will hold the return trip up if you are not fit and that is for me to decide, not you. Do...you...understand?"

Nikita quickly spun around, pulled her top over her head and looked ahead. Waiting. Michael took a silent breath and steeled himself for what he was about to see. The fact that this was not a new sight did nothing to lessen the churning in his stomach or the angry clenching of his jaw.

Taking a salve from his backpack, he moved forward and crouched behind her. Lifting her hair upwards he gently placed it over one shoulder so it fell down to cover a breast. Then he looked down at her back.

The indentations from rusted pipes were now subsiding. The angry redness had faded and in their place was a mass of deep purple bruising. Her captors had been careful to avoid her spine so a clear patch of white skin divided the obscene, garish skin palette of colour. It was the only area of flesh that was a natural shade.

Taking the salve, Michael first warmed some in the palm of his hand then he gently eased the peppermint scented lotion onto the seething mass of pulsating, hurting flesh. He did not hear Nikita utter a sound and he could not see the expression on her face as he hurt her by attending to her wounds. He only felt the involuntary clenching of muscles underneath his ministrations.

By the time he had slowly, painstakingly covered every inch of her injuries the sun was lowering in the sky. As it fell behind the tip of the rocky expanse a rich, orange hue cast itself over the water. As Nikita moved away from Michael, she began to gather up her top to pull it back over her head. Grasping a wrist Michael halted her progress and with his next words, explained his actions.

"Soak in the hot pool, it will allow the salve to penetrate more effectively. I need to get more wood to see us through the night" and with that final order he stood, turned and strode away.

Nikita's brow was marked with a frown that bespoke of confusion, uncertainty and something else. A reluctance to follow his command.......somewhere deep inside she could almost grasp the reasoning but then the mind of an obedient Section operative took over. So she too stood, stripped and waded into the warmth of the bubbling pool.

And so she stayed for several minutes, at first the pain of her mottled skin making contact with the heat almost unbearable but then that same heat began to aid the penetration of the salve. With the relief from the constant pain, Nikita closed her eyes and for the first time since her capture, she relaxed.

Until she heard the parting of water.

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

He could tell by the look of shock, then resignation that Nikita thought him to have planned this from the start. He knew she would never believe otherwise but it was not true. Not until he returned with the wood and looked over to the bathing pool did he realise this was the moment he'd been waiting for. As he took in her vulnerable position, as he remembered another time, Michael knew this was the right moment.

As he slowly lowered his naked body into the water, Michael did not take his eyes from her. Nikita was presenting to him a face that was resigned, but there was something else just below the surface. She struggled not only to keep it from showing but also to keep from feeling it. The anger was simmering but not given permission to surface. It was then, that he knew.

They had not used a technique that interfered with the memory of the subject. They had worked to eliminate the feelings associated with the memories. Now he saw his window of opportunity. He intended to open it fully to a cleansing wind that would carry away the poison of manipulation and the violation of the soul. To not feel was not to live, and who knew this more than he?

"Is the back feeling better?" he softly asked as he moved directly in front of her.

"It is fine, thank you." She replied politely.

Then Michael held a hand out towards her.

"Soap, Nikita?"

"No thank you."

Michael smiled at her, then without his eyes leaving her face, he began to rub the sandalwood scented soap over his upper body. When he saw Nikita was drawn to his movements he looked away.

As he ran it over his chest in circular motions, he felt her eyes follow.

As he raised one arm, ran it up and down the lean muscles, then did the same to his other, he felt the small ripple of water as she got restless.

As he plunged the soap beneath the water, he heard an intake of breath.

Then he looked up again, saw the longing in her eyes and spoke.

"We've bathed like this before Nikita, remember?"

"I......,ummm..." Uncertainty then resolve changed the tone. "Yes I remember. A time best forgotten Michael."

Michael smiled at her. He could hear the coldness penetrate her words but not completely.

"Hmmmm so you remember all that happened that day Kita?"

He saw the coldness thaw just a little more, as his voice was lowered and the English was slurred by the desire he was now freely showing in his eyes

And so he began his onslaught.

" I remember it all. I remember walking to my apartment holding one of your hands in mine. I remember the fire I lit for you because you were wet from the rain. I remember the lunch we ate in front of it. I remember the wine that spilt down your chin from you laughing so much. I remember wiping it so slowly with my tongue and you arching your neck back. I remember taking my lips, kissing your ear lobe then working across your chin and then down your throat. I remember releasing each button covering your breasts and my lips following the slow parting of your top. I rem..."

"STOP. Stop this Michael." And Nikita began to rise and move away.

Michael grabbed one wrist, then the other. Pulling her back under the water, he parted his legs even wider and had her rest between them, his mouth only inches from hers. He saw her eyes close and her head shake from side to side as if the movement would drown out his words. However his next words caused her eyes to fly open and when they did, Michael saw them drowning in tears.

"I remember loving you that day Nikita and you loving me."

" We possessed each other, right there on that rug, in front of the flames. For hours. And then we slept, not needing to cover since we were still wrapped in flesh and the heat from the fire washed over us. Then you awoke first and made love to me. It felt like heaven on earth Nikita."

"Your touch.

Your fingers.

Your hair.

Your.... mouth.

Your.... tongue."

Not letting up with his words, Michael had freed one wrist and was running his fingers gently up and down her arm. He had pressed her even closer and she could feel his desire, his longing and the touch of him against her broke down more of the mind barriers.

"Then I remember running a bath, you sitting on the side watching then pouring in too much bathing gel. I remember you throwing a handful of bubbles at me and I remember pulling you into the water atop of me. I remember the bath was too small for us both and that made it all the better. I remember washing your back, your neck, my hand reaching round and washing your throat, breasts, thighs. I remember you twisting your neck and the heated kiss, us rising out of the water, bubbles sliding over our coated bodies. I remember us laying on the bed, wetting the sheets but not even noticing as we made frenzied, passionate love that had you crying out then crying."

And finally he saw the chains of repression fall away, the key to treasured memories unlocked and released from their suffocating boxes. He saw the tears tumble over her sodden lashes and forge a trail of escape down her face. He watched as her hand rose out of the water, shaking. He dared to hope as she held it over his cheek then it come to rest on the stubbled flesh. And it was only when she moved forward mere inches and softly pressed her trembling lips to his own that Michael allowed his hope to mingle with deep, soul salving relief.

Nikita had made it back to him. And with that final thought, Michael allowed feelings and only feelings to take over them both. No thoughts of retribution, no supposition of what their actions would create, no regrets for the path they were about to embark on.

They simply felt.

Passion. Desire. Happiness. Joy.

Love.

A Coming Home.

THE END

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