Nikita stared at her fish tank. It was a nice place to live. If you were a fish anyway. Cold. Wet. Blue. ELECTRIC blue. She liked the vibrance of the color. It was alive.

The tank was empty. She had a fish tank and no fish. The one's she did have were made out of wire and scrap metal - they were fake. It was so depressing. She started to believe that actually having some stupid fish swimming around in her tank might make her feel better. They wouldn't of course, but she'd take all the happiness she could get.

She wandered over to the kitchen counter and touched the suspended sunglasses hanging above it, then listened to the click-click-click they made as they swung against each other. There was a box of Kleenex at the end of the counter. Carla had been over an hour ago. She was having "man problems". Again.

Nikita was more jealous than sympathetic. After all, no matter how short Carla's relationships were, at least they were real and didn't end because the people she worked for threatened to kill the guy (she would not, not, NOT think about Grey). She didn't like to dwell on it. That was pointless. Still, a part of her missed having someone to come home to...instead of an empty fish tank. Or Michael.

MICHAEL. She swore to God if he screwed her over one more time she'd snap and probably end up shoving him into oncoming traffic, or pushing him off a very high building. She could barely even stand LOOKING at him she was so embarrassed. Falling for his lies ONCE was bad enough, but THREE times? And the last time had been the worst... The phone rang. She knew who it was, and knew she didn't want to pick it up, but her hand was already reaching for it, automatically.

"JOSEPHINE"

She should be used to her codename by now. Used to what it means. But it still turns her blood cold. Cold blooded. Like a killer.

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

"The man you are looking at is Richard Beaudreux. He is our link to this man...Karl Heinstrich..." Operations clicked at the image, and the picture changed from that of a young and overall harmless looking man to that of an older and more severe one.

"Heinstrich is in contact with the terrorist group Black Star. Black Star was responsible for the extermination of five of our operatives in Germany. We'd like to know how they FOUND them. Beaudreux is Heinstrich's son-in-law..."

TALK ABOUT A CULTURE CLASH...Nikita smirked, and Michael looked over at her.

She ignored him. "Through one we get the other," Operations continued, "We get Heinstrich we get Black Star. Nikita your job is to make contact with Beaudreux. When you have access to Heinstrich, and you eventually will, take him. Is that understood?" She nodded. "Madelaine will need to see you in ten minutes...Michael, you'll be helping Nikita establish initial contact with Beaudreux..."

**********

"Try these on." Madelaine handed her a blouse and skirt of very conservative cut. Nikita made a face at the clothes as she turned to change.

"Not your tastes, I know," Madelaine’s voice sounded amused, "however, the people you will be in contact with will not appreciate black leather..." Nikita stepped out of the pants and kicked them aside as she pulled up the floral skirt. "...and blue nail polish." She turned to her for inspection, and Madelaine held out a bottle of remover. She sighed resignedly and took it.

***********

They stood alone at the back of the alley waiting for their cue. She didn't look at him, but could feel him watching her.

"Are you ready?" She nodded grimly. SURE, WHY NOT? The rat bites on her face had healed, she supposed it was about time for another bruise or two.

"Okay, he's coming guys..." Birkoff's voice clicked on in her ear, and she turned to Michael as he clicked off and screamed.

**********

Richard Beaudrex stopped dead in his tracks when he heard the scream. It was late, dark. There was no one else on the street but him. He immediately started to run in the direction of the scream, and followed the noises of trash cans being knocked over, and a male voice swearing... They got louder as he came to the mouth of the alley. He reached into his pocket.

**********

Michael slammed her up against the wall. She screamed like she was supposed to and tore at his shoulders as he ripped at her clothes. He put his hand over her mouth to muffle her screams. She bit him, and he swore. She looked into his eyes, the only part of his face not hidden by the black ski mask, and she caught a glimpse of regret in them before he shut himself off. YOU"RE ALWAYS SORRY...

Her head snapped to the side as he backhanded her. She was dizzy, and could taste the blood in her mouth. He allowed her to break free as Birkoff clicked back on to say Beaudrex was just reaching the alley.

Nikita was supposed to collapse in front of him, a terrified, and jellified victim, and Michael was supposed to run away as Beaudreux helped her to her feet. WHAT"S THAT SAYING ABOUT "EVEN THE BEST LAID PLANS...?"

As Beaudreux rounded the corner, Nikita came face to face with his gun. She stopped, like her heart, and Beaudreux's eyes slid past her, focusing over her shoulder, on Michael. He pointed the gun at him.

"Please..." she whimpered. DON"T SHOOT, DON"T SHOOT, DON"T SHOO- "Help me..!" She purposely stumbled against him and flung her arms around him, throwing off his aim. The gun fired.

Nikita slid down to the pavement. Her heart beating again, pounding, hard. She was afraid to turn around and see...The gun fell to the ground, near her head. The clatter of it rang in her ears. Beaudreux dropped to his knees beside her, and lifted her off the ground.

"Miss are you all right?...Miss?" Her head fell back as she stared up at him. "It's okay...don't be afraid...I got him..." Her eyes flooded with tears and he clumsily put his arms around her, trying to comfort her. He supposed she was in shock.

"We have to call the police...Do you live around here?" He helped her to her feet. "I'll take you home...We'll call the police from there..." She haltingly gave him the address Section had drilled into her memory before she had gone on the mission. It wasn't far.

***********

Her mind was numb. She could barely walk, and he all but carried her up the stairs to "her apartment". He waited as she made the call to 911 which she knew would go straight to Birkoff in the van a couple of blocks away. He had wanted to call for her, but she had resisted, hoping they'd tell her something...anything...

"I..I've been attacked..." Her voice cracked against the black plastic mouth piece of the phone.

"Have you made contact?"

"A...about ten minutes ago..."

"Is he there with you now?"

"Yes..."

"Lose him."

"All right..."

"Nikita..."She was silent. "He's okay...He's following through with the plan."

"Thank you...I'll look for him..." Nikita hung up the phone, her hand shaking. Beaudreux came to her side.

"What'd they say?"

"They're sending someone over..."

"Do you want me to stay?" He was concerned. She shook her head no. "Are you sure?" She looked at him. He stared at her.

"I want to be alone."

"I'd think that's the LAST thing you'd want to be right now..." She shook her head again and backed away.

"No...I'd rather not be alone...with you...I don't know you..." He paused a moment before reaching into his pocket. She tensed.

"All right, I understand. Let me just leave you my number...." He set a card on the telephone table near her hand. "Please call if you...or the police need anything...Look I really don't think I should just LEAVE. The police will want to talk to me anyway, and- " So they'll CALL you!" She snapped at him. "Please just GO..." He blinked at the tone of her voice, them turned slowly and left, shutting the door quietly behind him.

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

Nikita stood unmoving, her fists clenched at her sides. He was all right, Birkoff had said so... She looked around the apartment trying to calm down. All white walls and wooden floors, empty, save for a bookcase against the left wall. She walked over to it, curious as to what kind of books Michael would read.

A smattering of classics and electronics manuals, most of which she recognized from Section, were piled on their backs instead of their sides, and a lonely photograph of a beautiful asian woman sat in a shadowed corner. She had a good strong face, her black eyes were intelligent, quick. She gazed up at the man beside her, and he smiled, a lock of his redish brown hair falling into his eyes. She had been about to brush it away when the picture had been taken. The man was Michael. She almost hadn't recognized him...he looked so happy... The woman of course, was Simone.

Nikita turned as she heard the clattering of his keys on the table. His hands were clutching the ends of it. His breathing was slightly shallow, his face a little too white.

"Michael...?" He gritted his teeth, and his eyes flashed at her.

"I'm fine..." Nikita came to him, and began to ease the heavy black coat off his shoulders. He tensed and tried to pull it back on.

"Don't be stupid Michael." He didn't move. "Let me help you..." She paused before taking his coat again, then finally got him out of it. His shirt, black and long ,had a tear in it. She stared at it. "Take off your shirt."

He tried to lift the material over his head, but she could see it was hurting him, and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Wait...We'll cut it. Do you have...?" He leaned over to get the knife from his boot. The knife he was supposed to have threatened her with. The knife he hadn't used.

She took it from him, and slit the shirt up the middle, then carefully peeled it away from his body. His upper left arm was covered with blood.

"Michael..."

"It's just a scratch..."

"You're bleeding like crazy..." She ran to the batheroom,and wet a towel under the faucet. When she returned she began wiping the blood off his arm. It wasn't as bad as she had originally thought...but still...all that blood...MICHAEL'S blood...

He stiffened as she pressed the towel to his wound. She paused.

"You never say anything do you Michael? When something hurts, not a word..." He jerked again.

"There's nothing to say..."

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

She worked in silence, looking at him every so often. A muscle in his cheek clenched every now and then. He didn't look at her once. She took the knife again, ripped a strip off the bottom of her ruined blouse, and wrapped it tightly around his upper arm, a towel being too thick to serve as a bandage. His elbow brushed against her bare midriff. She tried to ignore it, and stepped back, finished.

She picked his coat up from off the floor in an effort to occupy herself, then dropped it over the back of the black leather couch that sat in the middle of the room. She had her back to him as he came towards her.

"Are you all right now?'

"Yes...thank you...Nikita." She turned and grinned up at him so he wouldn't know how worried she had been, and leaned on her hands against the back of the couch.

"You're so serious Michael...You should smile more..." She jokingly reached up and grabbed his chin thinking of the photograph. He took her hand and held it a moment. She grinned up at him still, and he smiled a little half smile. His lips parted.

"Do you have something to say to me Michael?" He pushed her hair away from her face and stared into her eyes.

"There's nothing to say..." He bent his head down to hers hesitently. They both jumped when the phone rang. He moved to answer it, and she turned away, suddenly fascinated with the floor, overcome with a feeling of deja vou. He had been lying the last time...but tonight...SHE had initiated it, and he had responded...or was it the other way around...? She closed her eyes against the thought.

"Nikita." He hung up the phone, and stayed at the table, a safe distance away from her.

"You have to stay here untill morning in case Beaudreux tries to contact you." She nodded. Silence. He stared at her. She was still intent on the floor. "You live here."

"Yes."

"Why did Section set me up in your apartment?"

"It's nearby, safe. And when this is over he won't be able to find you." She looked up.

"What about you? This is your home..."

"It's not a home... it's just...a room." Somehow that touched her, it made her feel sad for him. I guess...having a place of my own means more to me than it does to you..." She said slowly. "I mean not really having one before...and then having my own apartment..." She paused to look up at him. "I don't think I ever thanked you, Michael, for giving it to me."

"The Section-"

"YOU gave it to me. Thank you." Michael reached for his keys.

"If you want to sleep, there's the bedroom through there...We debrief at nine o'clock."

She stood from the couch, and held her shredded blouse closed as she walked past him.

She had gotten to him. His hand was pressed against his arm, half over his heart, half over his wound. She stopped in front of him, and gently ran her cool fingers over the back of his hand, before entering the bedroom, and locking the door behind her."

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

The bedroom, like the rest of the apartment, was bare. A bed and a night table with a lamp and a telephone on it were the only furniture. She wandered over to the closet and opened it. A suitcoat hung in the back. Black. Nikita smiled to herself. Michael's signature color. HE MUST HAVE FORGOTTEN IT...

She flopped onto the bed. It was comfortable. She imagined the right side dipped down a little where he had slept night after night...OR DIDN"T SLEEP. She remembered he had nightmares. She touched the pillow on the right, next to her face, where he'd rest his head if he were there, then sat up abruptly and flung it away, deciding she didn't care if he were there or not.

She glanced over at the night table, the open drawer catching her eye. She opened it farther. A manilla envelope had been shoved to the back. It was probably Michael's, and that alone told her she shouldn't open it. But she WANTED to. She casually scanned the room. There was a camera in the corner. She couldn't see it, but she could feel it, knew it was there. She wondered if Michael knew he was under surveillence.

Nikita yawned and tossed the envelope carelessly onto the floor towards the corner, under the camera. She then made a movement to leave the room, but just as she reached the door, walked with her back to the wall out of the cameras range, and couched beneath it to open the envelope. A typed note fell out of it and fluttered face up onto the carpet. WE HAVE WARNED YOU ABOUT THIS KIND OF BEHAVIOR. PUT AN END TO IT. IF IT CONTINUES, YOU KNOW WHAT WE WILL HAVE TO DO.

She reached into the envelope and pulled out a tiny video cassette. As she began walking back along the wall to the door, she hid it in her hand. Once out, she crossed nonchalantly to her purse on the table, and slipped the tape inside. With that done, she calmly got a carton of milk out from the refridgerator, took a giant swig out of it, and smiled up at the second camera above the stove. Nikita mouthed a "goodnight" to it and went back to the bedroom to sleep.

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

"Walter?"

"Yes Sugar?" He swung around in his swivel chair, a pair of pliers in one hand, and a complicated looking control pad in the other.

"That looks dangerous." she commented. He smiled at her.

"It IS dangerous...I'M dangerous...YOU'RE dangerous...Think of all the fun we could have being dangerous TOGETHER..." Nikita rolled her eyes and smiled back at him. She loved Walter. He was such a flirt.

"Could you do me a favor?"

"I can do you MANY favors - "

"Do you have a V.C.R. or some kind of playback I can hook up for tapes about this big?" She held her fingers apart. He frowned a moment, thinking, then nodded.

"Yeah Sugar..." He swiveled around again to one of the many metal shelving units surrounding his area. They were filled with weapons and tools,wires, skeletel shells of bombs, and other electronic stuff she normally had no interest in. Walter turned to her with a hand held T.V./V.C.R.. "You insert the tape in here." He gestured to the top opening in the machine and smiled slyly up at her from under his eyebrows. "You gonna tell me what you need it for Sugar?" Nikita grinned at him and grabbed at it.

"You're such a tease Walter." He chuckled, handing it over, and winked at her before turning back to his work.

She had to debrief in 15 minutes - not something she particularly enjoyed. She hated going over every little detail and having to relive every single moment of a mission. Especially when she usually wanted to forget about them the minute they were finished.

Michael wasn't around. The lights in his office were off, the dor closed. She decided to spend her last 10 minutes bugging Birkoff.

He saw her reflection approaching in the monitor in front of him, and began to turn around before she even reached his desk.

"I heard that YOU spent the night in MICHAEL'S apartm - ouch." Birkoff stared at the bruise on the side of her face, his eyes narrowed. "He didn't have to take it easy on you or anything..."

"You should see what he did to my blouse." Nikita grinned again, even though it hurt her face, and sat down beside him. "Are you BLUSHING Birkoff?"

"Whatever..."

"Anyway, it's for pity points. If he feels sorry enough for me he'll ask me out."

"He'll ask you out whether you have that or not." Birkoff mumbled ito a candybar wrapper.

"What are you doing?"

"Playing PAC-MAN, what do you think I'm doing?"

"WE'RE in a mood."

"Comes with the territory." She watched him punch away at the keyboard, his eyes intent on the screen, pointedly ignoring her, as he absently chewed on a red Twizzler, having finished the candy bar.

"You're gonna rot your teeth with all that stuff."

"At least I'll have fun doing it" He retorted.

"Can I have one?"

"No. You'll rot your teeth." Nikita chuckled and began to walk away.

"'Kita..." She turned. Birkoff held a Twizzler in the air over his shoulder. She took it and kissed the back of his head roughly.

"THANK you BIRKOFF." He leaned forward in his seat and pushed his John Lennon glasses further up on his nose.

***********

"Any complications?" YES, IF YOU CALL MICHAEL GETTING SHOT A COMPLICATION.

"Yes, he had a gun."

"Is that all?" Nikita looked at Michael uncertainly.

"And...Michael was...shot.." Operations gave her a dirty look.

"We are AWARE of that mishap Nikita,and it has been taken CARE of." He turned his back on the both of them to stare out of his window. The position of his office was an obvious display of power. From it he could look down on everyone. "You are to contact Beaudreux again. Set up something for tonight. And TRY not to get shot." He glared pointedly at Michael before briskly walking out of the office. Nikita turned to Michael who was staring at Operations's retreating back.

"He thinks it's your FAULT for getting shot?"

"It happened because Beaudreux caught me off gaurd. It shouldn't have happened. It was my fault." He spoke dissmissively before following Operations's lead by exiting the room. Nikita turned, frustrated to stare out the window. Operations was down there waiting for him. She watched them talking. Michael's back was to her, all she could see was Operations's face. He looked angry.

She called Beaudreux from Section. He seemed surprized to hear from her. She told him she wanted to apologize for being so ungrateful the other night. He said she could reward him by having dinner with him. He was charming. She had long ago learned to be cautious of that trait in men.

Nikita hung up the phone and stared at it. That hadn't been very hard. So what now? GET HIM TO LIKE YOU...LET HIM THINK YOU'RE HIS GIRLFRIEND...OR MISTRESS...Operations had said that Beaudreux was Heinstrich's son-in-law, meaning Beaudreax was married to his daughter. WHO THE HELL INVITES THEIR MISTRESS TO MEET THEIR WIVE'S FATHER? It was so screwed up. How was she going to have access to Heinstrich? She put her fingers to her temples. They weren't telling her something. Not that she was surprized. At this point she'd be more shocked if Section told her the truth for once than anything else.

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

"Are you going to have dinner with him tonight?" Nikita flopped into the chair in front of Madelaine's desk.

"I'm supposed to..."

"But..."

"I'm getting the impression that I'm supposed to seduce him, get him to trust me, so I can get access to Heinstrich...Why go through all this trouble? Why don't we just grab him off the street?"

"Because he hasn't left his home in over a year. Since his daughter died."

"Beaudreux's wife?"

"Yes."

"Did we...?"

"No." Nikita sighed, not really sure if she believed her. Madelaine turned to her laptop and began typing. When she finished, she moved the screen for Nikita to see.

"This is she." Nikita frowned and sat back in disgust.

"I should have known."

"The resemblence is superficial, but we can change that with a little effort. We have many other female operatives Nikita. Why else would we choose you?" Madelaine maneuvered the laptop screen so it was facing her once again. "After all, this isn't like one of your usual assignments. It's fairly simple. Almost easy compared to some of your other jobs. You should have no trouble with it."

"Physically or emotionally?" Madelaine's soft brown eyes hardened.

"That, Nikita, is up to you."

**********

"I'm glad you called." Nikita gazed up at Beaudreux through her lashes and took another sip of champagne. He hadn't stopped staring at her all evening. Madelaine had made sure of that by dressing her in the right clothes, hair, and, makeup (just enough so the bruise still showed a little - Like she had told Birkoff - Pity factor.), none of which she felt comfortable in. The dress, like the clothing she had worn the other night, was more conservative than ahe was used to. Her hair was pulled back, away from her face in a tight bun, like the woman's on Madelaine's computer. Glasses were added. She didn't really look like herself. Birkoff nearly fell out of his chair when she left Madelaine's office.

"WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM?"

"YOU LOOK SO..."

"WHAT?"

"BORING."

She WAS boring. Correction:she was BORED. Beaudreux was pleasant enough, but hard to pay attention to. He talked about money, business. She now understood what Madelaine had meant about no black leather and blue nail polish. Very conservative, but not annoyingly so, and she smiled when he told her how beautiful she was.

"Does it hurt?" Her fingers flew to her cheek.

"It could have been worse." He looked at her seriously, and nodded in agreement.

"Yes...yes...It could have been MUCH worse." Nikita could feel Michael's eyes on them from where he was at the bar. She let her fingers wander over the table to Beaudreux's, and put her hand on top of his.

"But YOU saved me...If you hadn't shown up when you did..." I PROBABLY WOULD HAVE STARTED PUNCHING MICHAEL BACK. "...who knows what might have happened..." The waiter brought them their food, and Beaudreux played with his fork distractedly.

"I don't mean to pry but...did you know the man who attacked you?"

"Why?"

"I was just wondering..."

"I couldn't tell because of the mask, but I'm sure if he was someone I know, he won't try it again." He frowned worridly at her.

"How can you be sure?"

Nikita forced a laugh and said "If someone pointed a gun at ME I'd think twice about attacking someone again...: She paused delicately. "Why did..." Beaudreux looked up.

"I have it?"

"You don't have to answer..." she said quickly.

"No, it's all right...My wife was attacked too...just over a year ago...She wasn't as lucky as you were...she was killed."

"Richard...I'm so sorry...I didn't know..." He smiled at her sadly.

"How could you have?...I bought the gun shortly after she died....I...got paranoid. I didn't think I'd ever use it, but when I saw you...with that man...I saw Kara, my wife...and this time I was able to help."

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

Beaudreux walked her back to Michael's apartment - TO BE ON THE SAFE SIDE he had said. She asked if he wanted to come in for coffee, not really sure if Michael had any, and he declined. He asked if he could see her again. She said of course, and kissed his cheek goodnight. As she predicted, 10 minutes after he left, Michael came.

"How did it go?"

"You were there. It went fine." He stood in front of the door, looking vaguely uncomfortable. She knew he didn't like the idea of her staying in his apartment alone. Well, she'd save him from worriying. "Do you think it would be okay if I went home tonight?"

"I'm sure it would be...I can take you if you'd like..." she shrugged noncommitedly, but walked to the door. "I have to check something first..." he said as he started towards the bedroom. Nikita felt her stomach muscles tighten. The tape was still in her purse.

"Your coat?" He looked at her strangely.

"What?"

"Your coat...I noticed it in the closet."

"What else did you notice?"

"Just the coat." He turned on his heel seemingly satisfied, but entered the bedroom anyway. He came back a second later with the black suitcoat.

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

They drove in silence. She wanted to be honest and admit she had seen the note. She wanted to ask him what was on the tape. She wanted him to say something, anything, about the other night, instead of pretending nothing had almost happened between them. She wanted to talk NOW while they were in a car and he couldn't just walk away and refuse to answer.

He pulled up in front of her building.

"Michael..."

"Goodnight Nikita." And that was that.

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

Nikita sat on her couch and stared at the T.V./V.C.R Walter had let her borrow. She hadn't touched it since he had given it to her three days ago. It was stupid to hold on to the tape that long. Michael might begin to miss it. It was now or never.

She was still trying to figure out how she had worked up the nerve to take it in the first place. That hadn't been like her at all. She COULD just return it without looking at it, but she knew whenever she was in his apartment she'd be thinking about it. She was drawn to it. She was afraid of what she might see. She was afraid it had been left behind on purpose, and was just another test. There was a knock at the door. She scooped up the machine from the table and deposited it on top of the refridgerator on her way to the door. Cautiously she looked out of the peephole before opening it. It was Carla.

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

"How are things going with Beaudreux?" Madelaine folded her hands neatly on her desk as Nikita looked through the clothes racks set up along the wall. Anything pastel she pulled out and flung to the side to try on.

"Very well." She looked over her shoulder at Madelaine. "I've been seeing him for almost two weeks. I think he's giong to introduce me to his fath - to HEINSTRICH soon. He's been talking a lot about him lately."

"What has he said?" She shrugged.

"Just that I'd like him...That he's wonderful...That he's worried about him. He's afraid to introduce me to him. He doesn't want him to think I'm Kara." She pulled a light blue blouse out from the rack and stared at it uncertainly."....Madelain?"

"Yes?"

"Why are we doing this?"

"Nikita, it would be wise of you not to start this again. Black Star -"

"I mean this." Nikita gestured to the pile of clothes on the chair. "Why am I being made up to look like a dead woman? There's no reason for it anymore...I understand that at first it was to get his attention, but now...He was TRYING to forget about her. And when I disapear, in a way. he'll lose her AGAIN. And...." She threw down the blouse she had been twisting in her hands. "...He'll lose his father. That is, if I'm correct in assuming once Heinstrich gets here he won't be able to leave." Madelaines's face went hard.

"That's not your concern Nikita."

"No, it never was

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

"Sugar?"

"Yes, Walter?" Nikita walked over to his desk and looked over his shoulder as he carefully twisted two different colored wires together.

"Are you finished with that T.V. I gave you yet?"

"I'll have it in to you by tomorrow...Do you need it?"

"No, not right now, but I'm supposed to be keeping TABS on this stuff Sugar...Anyway, someone asked me where it was."

"Who?"

"Michael, actually."

"What did he want it for?" Walter shrugged, settled the wires back into the plastic box, and replaced the lid.

"I don't know if he wanted it Sugar, he just noticed it was missing and asked who signed it out."

"Did you tell him?" He smiled at her.

"I told him I'd have to CHECK my records...And that it might TAKE a while since I'm so BUSY."

"Thanks Walter."

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

Nikita dropped her bag of clothes on the kitchen counter. Why would Michael care about who had taken the t.v.? She had returned the tape. After making a copy. He never even knew it was gone. At least she hoped he didn't. NO, she told herself, HE DOESN"T KNOW> HE"S BARELY BEEN TO HIS APARTMENT SINCE THIS WHOLE THING STARTED> BECAUSE I WAS ALWAYS THERE>>>INVADING HIS PRIVACY> She didn't even know where he had been staying the past two weeks. Probably at Section.

Her mind was made up. She had to see what was on that tape. She walked purposely over to the couch, and pulled the T.V./V.C.R. out from under it. She supposed she was being paranoid. There were no more cameras in her apartment. She had found them all and yanked them out of the walls. Still, Michael had a tendency to drop by whether she was home or not. She sat down and removed the tape from where she had scotch taped it under the cofffee table, and stuck it into the machine. She pressed play.

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

It was a surveilence tape taken from inside the Section Recovery Unit. The date in the corner placed the tape at the day they had returned from being held captive by Red Cell. She was lying on a bed. Her face was marked with rat bites. She shivered as she remembered what they had done to her...what Michael had done to her... He was standing over her in the tape, staring down at her. The camera's view widened as Madelaine and Operations entered the room. Thay spoke to him, and he answered somewhat dazedly.

There was no audio play. It was hard to understand what was being said. The camera panned back as Madelaine and Operations left, and followed Michael as he walked around to the other side of the bed, his fingers trailing along the sheet.

The camera on the oposite wall took over, as he leaned over her. She could see his face clearly. His lips moved as he told her something, but she didn't understand what. He leaned in closer, and kissed her lips gently. She moved away from him, and he pulled back slowly before backing away and leaving the room. The tape clicked off, finished.

Nikita held the tape clutched in her hands, angry tears welling up in her eyes. Michael had WANTED her to see this. He HAD left it behind on purpose. It was the same old game. She didn't believe for a minute any of it was real, and she was sick and tired of being played with.

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

Nikita barged into his office without knocking, and slammed the tape down on his desk. Michael looked up calmly from behind his laptop.

"What is it Nikita?" She glared at him. He looked at the tape. "Where did you get that?"

"You know where I got it!" She closed the door to his office. "You left it on purpose! You must think I'm pretty stupid if you think I going to fall for it again! Who told you to do it this time? Operations? MADELAINE? What do you want from me NOW?" He stared at her.

"Nothing...Nikita...You weren't supposed to see that..."

"So what are you saying? That for once you MEANT it? I don't know if I can believe you anymore Michael."

"It would be better if you didn't" She stopped pacing, suspicious.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing."

"SOMETHING." He looked pained.

"Please just forget about it Nikita."

"Did you mean it?"

"Nikita..."

"I have to know. Did you?"

"....Yes...." Nikita blinked.

"Is that why Operations..."

"Yes."

"He doesn't want you to care about me..."

"No."

"....MICHAEL...." She started to come around to his side of the desk, but he stared straight ahead, right through her, his face empty.

"If you're finished..."

"Are we?" Michael swallowed thickly and began typing again.

"I'm busy...right now...maybe later..."

"How much later?" He looked up from the computer screen.

"I don't know, Nikita... Just...later."

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

"I must confess, I'm a little nervous."

"Now why should you be nervous?" She smiled and took his hand as they sat in the driveway. "He just means so much to you...I want to make a good impression." Beaudreux reached out to touch her face.

"I can't imagine you making anything but." He unclicked his seat belt and stepped out of the car before coming to her side and opening the door for her. "Besides it will only be us and Karl - We outnumber him two to one. Nothing to be afraid of... Unless Caroline's back from Europe."

"Who's Caroline?" Beaudreux averted his eyes and occupied himself with searching for his keys.

"Kara's sister."

"Oh..." Nikita watched him fiddle with the lock. He looked like he was having a problem with it. BACK FROM EUROPE.... "Was she on vacation?"

"Who?"

"Caroline."

"Oh yes...of course Caroline...yes, she was. After Kara's death...she became extremely depressed...they were very close. She stayed in her room all the time. You couldn't tear her away from that damn computer. She felt more comfortable talking to complete strangers than us...Anyway, Karl sent her to Germany to try and forget about what had happened...as if anyone COULD forget..." he mumbled under his breath.

"Why Germany?" Beaudreux shrugged.

"It was the most obvious choice. Karl had grown up there, so there was family she could stay with. Plus she wanted to go to Germany. One of her "friends" she met on the internet was from there. Karl was glad she chose it."

"You must really care about him."

"Karl? Well yes, I do. I knew him before Kara, actually. He gave me my first job. He treated me like a part of the family from the very start. He was so happy when Kara and I decided to get married. And after she died... I felt the least I could do was stay and try to repay his kindness. He needs someone to be there for him..." He shrugged again, and finally opened the door to the town house. "...and Caroline usually isn't."

"Caroline usually isn't what?" The voice came from the top of the stairs. A young woman who couldn't have been more than twenty stood at the top of them, and slowly made her way down.

"Usually isn't around." Beaudreux answered.

"Of course I haven't been AROUND." She snapped as she landed a perfunctuatory kiss on her brother-in-law's cheek. "I've been AWAY. Nice to see you RICHARD."

"And you CAROLINE." The young woman smiled a fake smile and turned to Nikita.

"And YOU are?"

"I'm sorry Caroline, this is Nikita. Nikita, Caroline." She looked her over then turned her attention back to Beaudreux as though Nikita wasn't in the room.

"She isn't spending the night is she?" Richard glared at her, blushing furiously.

"No." He answered her coldly. "She is my guest, and she is staying for dinner. I expect you to be civil." Caroline shrugged a "whatever" and walked away disinterested.

**********

Beaudreux turned to her, embarrassed, as his sister-in-law disapeared down the hallway.

"I'm sorry about tha-"

"No?" She pouted. Beaudreux blushed again.

"Well...I didn't mean...NEVER...but...well...that's up to YOU...and..." He glanced at his watch, then towards the direction of the stairs. "Would you like to meet Karl now?" he asked hopefully. "I'm going to take his dinner up to him - he doesn't like coming downstairs...I'll just be a minute..."

Beaudreux turned, and hurried down the hallway to what she presumed was the kitchen. She waited for him in the living room. It was nice, cozy, and fully furnished in wood and brass, with a thick carpet and a plush couch. It was completely different from Michael's apartment.

The first time Beaudreux had asked her why it was so empty had been easy for her to explain - she was new in town, and her stuff hadn't arrived yet, etc. However, trying to pull that lie off for two weeks was ridiculous. She began bringing some of her own stuff to the apartment for the sake of Beaudreux when he visited, to make the place look lived in. She had filled the bookshelf with paperback novels - trashy ones with Fabio on the cover, and had bought some artsy posters to hang on the empty walls. She had even brought over the scrap metal fish she had gotten at a street fair from her apartment. She wasn't sure what Michael thought of all this, and she didn't care. He had been pointedly ignoring her all week. He wouldn't even look at her.

"Nikita?" She jumped at Beaudreux's voice, not realizing he had come in.

"Yes?"

"Are you all right? You look a little flushed." Nikita smiled warmly at him and met him at the stairs.

"I'm fine. Are we ready?"

***********

Michael didn't even knock, it was still his apartment after all, and strode purposefully up to where she sat at the kitchen counter. He was angry. She could tell by the set of his shoulders, the rigidity of his posture. He was even stiffer than usual. He took the back of the swivel chair she sat in, and swiftly turned it so she was facing him. His arms were on both sides of her, trapping her in the chair. He stared deep into her eyes. She looked away first. Yes, he was VERY angry.

"Why didn't you take Heinstrich?" She didn't answer. "It was your JOB to take him. We had a TEAM assembled and ready." He pushed himself off the chair, and it swung jerkily back towards the counter. She stopped it with her foot, and stared at the floor. "You can't keep doing this Nikita."

"I couldn't take him." He turned to her, his jaw clenched.

"Why not?"

"Karl Heinstrich can't be the one in contact with Black Star. He had a stroke shortly after his daughter died - he can barely SPEAK let alone plan assassinations over the internet!"

"That's not the point."

"It IS the point! He's not our MAN, Michael! He doesn't even know what Black Star is!"

"We never said he did."

"Then why do you want him so badly?" He was silent. "You know, if people would start filling me in more often, maybe I'd do my "JOB" better! I'm not taking Heinstrich away from Beaudreux without a reason. He's already lost so much...He lost his WIFE! I thought that would mean something to YOU..." She shouldn't have said it. She realized that the second the words flew out of her mouth. He stood stock still, his fists clenched at his sides looking very much like he was trying not to explode.

"It's not your place to question the Section. You were assigned to Heinstrich. Operations is going to hear about this, and there won't be anything I can do to - "

"To what? Stop him from having me cancelled? Sometimes that doesn't sound so bad...Why can't you just tell me why we need Heinstrich? He obviously doesn't know anything about Black Star."

"He knows someone who does. Someone who cares deeply about him and his welfare." Nikita stared at him.

"So Heinstrich is BAIT?"

"In a sense..."

"It's not Richard." she said quickly. "It has to be Caroline. She has friends in Germany. They could be involved in something. It's not Richard." she repeated.

"Just get Heinstrich. We'll take care of the rest. Section isn't big on second chances Nikita. Do it right this time." Silence hung heavily untill Nikita turned to him and impulsively asked the question that had been on her mind for months.

"Why haven't I been cancelled yet? If I keep breaking the rules like you say I do , why haven't they just killed me?" She slid off the chair, and began circling him, enjoying his discomfort as he stared straight ahead.

"Nikita just do what I ask. Trust me whe-"

"TRUST you? I've tried that Michael. It's impossible." She stopped in front of him, and looked him squarley in the eye. "Besides, it's hard to trust someone who wouldn't hesitate to shoot you if Section wanted a cancellation."

"You think I'd...cancel you...if Operations ordered me to?" Nikita gazed at him bitterly, wordlessly, daring him to deny it. "You think you know me that well?"

"It's like I told you before - I don't know you at all."

"And I told YOU it's better that way."

"Better for who? YOU? SECTION? ME? Since when have you ever cared about what's good for ME?"

"You think I'd kill you?" He sqaid it again as though he hadn't heard her. If she hadn't known any better, she'd think he looked hurt. His green eyes were darker, his lips parted with the intake of breath. "I could never..."

"What? CANCEL me? Why not? You've already hurt me in every way possible. Why can't you kill me? Why not Michael? Because you LOVE me?"

"You...You're more important to me than you should be Nikita...I haven't any right to...but I..." He stopped and swallowed thickly. "I thought I didn't need anyone...I try to tell myself I don't care...But you...I...no." He pressed his lips together to stop the words, and made an abortive move to the door. She stopped him by grabbing onto his arm, and pulling him towards her.

"You always do this Michael...When you can't get out of something you just walk away...I won't let you walk away."

"What do you want me to say Nikita? That I love you? I'd give anything to love you...to live a life with you I never had with Simone...to not have to lie..." He was breathing faster, his normally cold eyes blazing. "I'd give anything...but NOT your life. They'd kill you Nikita. Weaknesses are destroyed in Section. You're my weakness." He pulled away again and turned on his heel abruptly before slamming the door behind him on his way out.

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

She had been at the party for over an hour and a half, had barely talked to anybody, and had danced for at least half of that time with Beaudreux. Her feet hurt, and she was cursed the person who came up with the concept of spiked heels.

Beaudreux was sweet when he introduced her to his collegues, and she felt guilt creeping back in. She ignored it since she also felt like a pet, a trinket he was showing off to his friends, and clung to that tiny bit of resentment the feeling evoked in her.

She glanced at the large clock fashionably placed over the brocaded double doors of the ballroom. 9:05. Team two would be breaking into the town house....9:05 and a half....climbing up the stairs...9:06...entering Heinstrich's bedroom....

"Nikita? Are you alright darling?" DARLING?

"Yes pookie, I'm simply rapturous..." MICHAEL WHERE ARE YOU....She was beginning to like Beaudreux less and less. He was getting possessive, patronizing...and she was getting annoyed.

She took a large gulp out of her champagne glass, downing half of it. Beaudreux looked at her disapprovingly then turned back to the man he had been talking to and smiled a isn't-that-cute at him. Nikita slammed the glass down on the table. When she looked up, she saw him. The second she did his eyes locked on to hers. He looked...beautiful...every woman in his path turned to look as he passed them, but he kept eye contact with only her the entire time. As he reached her, his lips broke into a warm smile, that reminded her of Lisa Fanning...

"Nikita!" He could have been an actor with that voice...so smooth and confident. He sounded happy to see her. "God what has it been? Years?"

"Nikita...?" Beaudreux stepped in, and slipped his hand possessively under her elbow. She twisted her arm away from himin one smooth movement, and smiled invitingly at Michael.

Michael...it's been AGES...Oh, Richard this is an old friend of mine, Michael....Michael, Richard. Richard, Michael..."

"It's great to see you..." he began wonderingly. "How have you been?".... They continued with the small talk untill Beaudreux grew bored and moved to another circle of people after nodding hesitantly when Michael asked if he could "steal his date" for a dance.

Nikita was aware of his eyes on their backs as Michael led her to the floor. She fell into his arms easily, as though she belonged there...it was easy to forget that she didn't. His hand rested on the small of her back,burning against her bare skin. His eyes swept over her body before he pulled her closer.

"You look...nice..." NICE? NICE? She looked a hell of a lot better than NICE. She gazed up at him and said sweetly, "Richard used STUNNING..." The corner of his mouth slid upward slightly, and he leaned towards her.

"That too..." He brushed a tendril of hair behind her ear, and activated the mini com set hidden there.

Click. "Anytime People..." Birkoff. Michael led her off the floor as the song finished into a little alcove, making sure they were close enough for Beaudreux to see, but not hear. He took her hand and placed it over his heart.

"Is he looking?" he murmmered.

"He just looked up." Nikita angrily yanked her hand away, but Michael reached out and caught it again before putting his own hand gently on the side of her face. He curled his fingers in her hair, pulling her closer. She shook her head "no", playing her part of the reluctant ex-lover.

Beaudreux had taken a step toward them. He thought she was being harrassed. Nikita looked up at Michael and rested the back of her head in his palm as he seductively tugged on her hair.

"Michael...he's coming..."

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

"Michael...He's coming..." Her jerked her forward, his lips crushing against hers. Despite herself she clutched at his shoulders, kissing him back just as roughly. His arms were locked around her waist, his hands pressed against her back...his fingers still pulling her hair...she LIKED it....Her own hands were on either side of his face. She couldn't breath. She couldn't pull away. She looked at him through her eyelashes. His eyes were closed. Birkoff's voice clicked on in her ear.

"You two can, like, STOP now...he left...." Nikita began to pulll away slightly embarrassed, but Michael resisted, his lips still on hers, before slowly lifting his head. His hands were still on her back. She realized he was holding her up. They stared into each others eyes and she slowly brought her fingertips to his flushed lips. He kissed them.

Click. "HELLO...you GUYS...I'm getting OLD here..."

Nikita bit her lip not wanting to move. "We should go..."

"That's what I've been SAYING-"

"Shut up Birkoff" Michael leaned over and gently kissed her forehead, before leading her out of the ballroom...

Michael left her in the lobby where she looked for Beaudreux. She couldn't find him there so she went outside. The limo driver was waiting for her.

"I have instructions to take you home Miss."

"But what abou-"

"Mr Beaudreux has informed me that he will be walking this evening."

"Oh..."

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

She knew he'd come. After that performance in the alcove...he had to...She'd only been in the apartment ten minutes before the knock at the door. She paused from unwinding the ribbons of her shoe then stood and walked to the door leaving the ribbons trailing after her. She opened the door and looked at him over the safety chain.

"Can I come in?" She smiled at that.

"It's still your apartment." She took off the chain and opened the door before turning her back on him as he shut it. She sat down on the couch to finish with her shoe. He knelt down before her and took her hands off the ribbons, and used them to lift her foot so her ankle rested on his shoulder. He slowly began to unwind the ribbons from around her leg, and slipped the shoe off, letting it drop to the floor. She jumped at the sound and he turned his head to kiss her ankle...then her knee...She lifted her other foot, placed it on his chest and pushed him away.

"Do you want something to drink...?" Her voice shook as she stood quickly and made her way over to the counter. If it hadn't been there she supposed she would have fallen... He was coming closer...purposefully, but slowly...every movement was calculated...He knew what he was doing. He was giving her a chance to get away...and he knew she wouldn't take it.

***********

He stopped in front of her almost touching. She couldn't move, but tensed as he lifted his hand to her face. His fingers trailed across her cheek and over her lips that trembled as she sharply inhaled. He leaned closer...closer...and paused, his lips almost touching hers. They stayed that way for what seemed like an eternity. She stared into his eyes but he wasn't looking into hers. He was intent on her lips. He met her gaze and blinked.

"No?" he breathed. His lower lip accidently brushed against hers. She closed her eyes.

"...no..." She whispered touching his lips again with the word. He paused. She thought he might leave. She couldn't have that. She jerked her chin up kissing him almost violently. She felt his hands in her hair again, his fingers tangling in it, pulling at it gently the way she remembered. Her own hands were against his back pressing him to her.

She had always thought of him as cold...mechanical...He wasn't cold now, and his hands traveling down to her shoulder blades felt VERY nice....

His lips were soft as they traced her cheekbone and brushed against her eyelid, followed the curve of her eyebrow, one hand cupping her chin, the other playing with the strap of her dress that had slipped down her shoulder.

She pressed her lips to his ear.

"Don't...do this to me...if you don't mean it..."

"I meant it before...I mean it now...", and he moved for her mouth again.

And of course, the phone rang. She froze and then reached for it, still locked in his arms.

"Hello?" Her voice sounded choked.

"We have to talk." was all Beaudreux said before hanging up.

"He's coming" She said calmly as she replaced the phone back in its cradle. "You should go..." He nodded and went to the door. She caught his arm as he passed, and kissed him once, whispering against his lips..."Stay warm."

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

Richard came sooner than she expected. She had barely had enough time to splash water on her face, whip a sweatshirt over her dress and have a look around to make sure everything in the apartment was in order - no heavy artillery lying around etc. There was a gun in the bedroom, in the drawer beside the bed. There was one hidden in the bathroom, and a third attached under the counter in the kitchen. She didn't know why she was so paranoid all of a sudden. It was only Richard. She didn't need a gun to break up with him.

She felt horrible about it...but it was necessary...she couldn't have expected anyone to let her keep seeing him...even though he HAD been acting like a jerk tonight...and besides Michael...she felt the catch in her breath when she remembered the feeling of his hands on her...his lips...

The knock on the door came again. She ran to it, and opened it, but left on the chain. Beaudreux looked at her from beyond it. His face was unreadable.

"Can I come in?" It sounded more like a demand than a question. She shut the door again and paused a moment before letting down the chain. Something felt wrong...She opened the door quickly to see him with his hand raised, and clenched in a fist. He had been about to knock again before she opened the door. He quickly lowered his hand and entered, practically pushing her out of his way.

He stood in the middle of the room and turned to look at her.

"What's the matter with your face? You look flushed." She automatically raised her hands to her warm cheeks somewhat guiltily. He came to her suddenly and grabbed her by the wrists. She was too surprized to do anything.

"Is he here? WITH you?" He pushed himself away from her and flung open the bedroom door. He went inside. She could hear him opening and slamming the closet. He swiftly came back out and went to the bathroom door and whipped that open.

"Richard...No one's here..." He looked at her again, his eyes blazing, and slowly came towards her. Despite herself she took a step back, and felt the wall against her shoulder blades. He came closer still untill his face was inches from hers. He pointed at her and said in a steely voice...

"Don't you EVER do that to me again..."

"What d-" He slapped her smartly across the face. Her head jerked to the side slightly from the force of it. She stared at him, shocked. His eyes were so cold...the same way Michael's were when on missions...focused...hard...unrelenting... unforgiving...

He grabbed her by the arm, and she could feel her flesh bruising under his fingers. She glanced over at the kitchen counter. She could see a sliver of blackness beneath it. Maybe she would need a gun after all...

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

"What are you talking about!?" He stared at her incredulously.

"Do you think I didn't SEE you? Do you think EVERYONE didn't SEE you?" He flung her away from him. "Slut!" He turned his back on her. She peeled herself off of the wall, and slowly came up behind him.

"Richard I'm sorry Michael and I-" He swung around at her, fist raised, but she was ready this time. Nikita caught his fist in her open palm, leaned back with it then shoved him forward. He wasn't expecting it, and stumbled to the ground falling against the counter. Then she heard it. the subtle "shrip" of tape coming loose. He'd hit the counter harder than she thought...He looked up at the noise. He saw the gun.

OH SHI-

She made a move for the one in the bathroom but Beaudreux snatched the gun away from it's bindings and swiftly pointed it at her. She paused.

"Richard...WHAT are you doing? We haven't been going out together long enough for-"

"Shut up!" He got to his feet with some difficulty. For the first time, she wondered if he was drunk. "You're just like her....fooling around...the tramp....but I took care a' her..." He raised the gun and held it at eye level.

"You don't play games like that with me and win Nikita...Kara didn't win...and neither will you..." She blinked.

"Kara...?...You...killed your wife..." He studied the gun, tested its weight in his hand.

"She made me into a laughingstock...Just like you did tonight...she was an embarressment..." He looked up at her, and cocked the gun casually.

"Where did you get such a big gun little Nikita?" Suddenly he sounded very sober.

"Oh, you know...supermarkets just aren't what they used to be..."

He came towards her, and in one fluid movement circled around her and pressed the gun to her temple.

"Do you know how to use a gun like this Nikita?...Do you know what it feels like when you pull the trigger?" He leaned in even closer, his lips brushing her ear. She shivered as he whispered into it, "I do..." She strained against him. She hadn't realized how strong he was.

She should never have underestimated him. His hand was pressed against her abdomen, under the sweatshirt...it slowly traveled upward as he kissed her neck, the cold steel of the gun still buried in her hair. She felt like she was going to be sick

"Nikita...Where's Karl?"

***********

"I don't know what you're talking about..."

He bit her neck, and she tensed.

"Sure you do...you're not stupid Nikita. And neither am I...I dont trust ANYONE...I never trusted you..." His voice smiled, "You were so obvious Nikita...dressing like her...fawning all over me...And all those questions you asked about Karl...You studied everything too intensely darling...subtlety is always best...that's what Karl always says...He WARNED me about you...but I didn't listen" He licked the place on her neck where he had bitten her. "I told him you were sweet...Where is he Nikita? Where's Karl?" She shivered under his grasp.

"At home getting plenty of bedrest I presu-"

His hand shot up through the neck of her shirt and clamped onto her throat.

"You know he's not." His thumb pressed against her windpipe. She had never felt more helpless."Tell me." She was silent.

"No?" He pouted. "Well then I'll just have to kill you." He paused, and let the gun slide down the side of her face, across her shoulder to the middle of her back. "But not untill we have a little fun first..." He nudged her in the direction of the bedroom.

He shoved her inside and she stumbled against the night table. The corner of the slightly open drawer banged into her thigh. Beaudreux turned his back for a second to lock the bedroom door. A second was all she needed. She whipped open the night table and grabbed the second gun laying inside. He turned back to her just as she flung the heavy wooden drawer at him. He ducked, and aimed his gun at her, just as hers snapped into place. The barrels were equal with each other.

"If you move I'll shoot you"

"If you TALK I'LL shoot YOU." She returned steadily.

There was a knock at the front door.

"Nikita?" The voice was muffled, but she recognized it anyway. Michael.

She stared at Beaudreux. He glared back his eyebrows raised as he glanced down breifly at the gun in his hand - REMEMBER WHAT I SAID... She smiled as he opened his mouth to speak, and cut him off before he could begin.

"No. YOU remember what I said..."

The knock came again, still muffled, but louder...Beaudreux and Nikita stared at each other silently...the pounding of Michaels fist on the door echoing the beating of their hearts

**********

"Nikita?" The knock came again.

She stared into Beaudreux's eyes as she shouted, "Now's not a good time Michael..." DON'T LEAVE, DON'T LEAVE, DON'T LEAVE... She strained her ears for the sound of his key in the lock but heard nothing. HE CHOOSES NOW TO LISTEN TO ME?!

She decided to just go for it and shoot him even though the second she even flickered her trigger finger HE'D probably shoot HER...

Still, one of them had to do something....they couldn't stay like this forever - stuck in a bad Clint Eastwood movie...No, she would just-

The bedroom door flew open, taking out a chunk of the frame. Beaudreux looked away for a split second, and without even thinking, she delivered a roundhouse kick to his hand that sent the gun flying. She slipped up behind him, holding him in the same position he had had her in, and pressed her gun against his temple.

She whispered into his ear, "You asked me if I knew what it felt like to pull the trigger..." She saw Michael out of the corner of her eye gently shake his head "no", so she hit him instead, and he slumped to the ground at Michael's feet.

She looked down at the sweatshirt she was wearing. It was his. She struggled out of it, like she was shedding a diseased layer of skin, and whipped it off over her head to throw it down on his unconscious body.

She had to hold the front of her dress up with her hand. Beaudreux had ripped it to the waist when he had been...touching her...She hadn't realized it at the time. She so felt dirty...

***********

Nikita moved dazedly to the bathroom, and turned on the faucet of the bathtub. She tore what was left of the top half of her dress away from her body, and shivered as she saw the red blotches his fingers had made. She hadn't shut the door completely behind her, and Michael opened it further to stand in the doorway. She had forgotten about him.

"What are you doing?" She sat on the edge of the bathtub with her naked back to him, and shakily dipped her hand into the water to test it. The end of her dress slipped into the water, the rippling scarlette strips like swaths of silk dyed with blood. She didn't answer him, but stared, mesmerized, at the gently waving fabric, waiting for the tub to fill.

"Nikita..." He sat down behind her "We have to go in...."

"In a minute...I just...can't I just..." Her throat closed up and she started to cry, her shoulders shaking as she hid her face in her hands.

She was angry at herself for trusting Richard...beacause she had...she had really believed he was an innocent...but she had been wrong...Again. Hadn't she learned by now? Especially after "Julie"...and Alec...

It wasn't the first time she had been betrayed by her own instincts, and it wasn't the first time she had bee touched against her will...her stepfather had made a habit out of it...but it still made her cold inside. She couldn't stop shivering. She felt like she was going to be sick all over again.

Michael lightly draped a towel over her shoulders before coming around to face her, and kneeled before her. He didn't say anything. He took her hand in his. He was there. She slowly slid off the edge of the tub to the floor, into his arms. He held her close and kissed the top of her head, murmuring into her ear,

"I was coming back to tell you...Beaudreux was involved the entire time...he was the one sending the messages to Black Star..."

"How..."

"Shhh..." He smoothed her hair away from her face. "We have to bring him in." She nodded and closed her eyes, laid her head against his chest, and listened to his heart beat untill her shivers subsided.

***********

"It appears Heinstrich has been the one in contact with Black Star all along..." Operations paced up and down the lenghth of the table during the debriefing as he relayed the information Madelaine had learned during her interrogation of Heinstrich. It had taken hours and a lot of...prodding...before he finally broke. She was in with Beaudrex now. "It seems, Heinstrich had gotten a hold of a piece of the directory over the net from an unknown source - Birkoff..." Birkoff nodded curtly and skidded his swivel chair away from the table.

"On it."

"Heinstrich gave this piece to one of the members of Black Star...we don't know why he did - "

"He wouldn't tell?" Nikita broke in, and Operations smiled that tight sardonic smile of his.

"He didn't get a chance to..." He didn't need to finish his sentence. She knew the end of it..."...BEFORE HE DIED."

"How did Black Star get the list?" Michael spoke softy from beside her. Since they had entered Section together that evening he had kept his distance for the sake of Operations, but now, she could feel his foot pressed against hers under the table, and it gave her a little bit of comfort.

"Black Star recieved the list through Caroline Heinstrich."

"Should we bring her in?"

"Yes, but not aggressively. We'll need her just for details on the delivery. She doesn't know anything about any of this. She was asked to deliver a package for her father and she did it while she was in Germany..."

"But how could Heinstrich have orchestrated all of this?" Nikita protested "When I saw him, he could barely talk or move...what about his stroke?"

"Heinstrich DID have a stroke after his daughter's death, but the results were not as severe as he had everyone believe. Even Caroline thought he was in the same shape as you did. Beaudreux was the only one allowed to know the truth..."

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

"Heinstrich needed a second person to help him with his plan. He told Beaudruex that he thought Kara was having an affair, which he knew would send Beaudreux over the edge...In that way he could 'kill two birds with one stone' in a sense...He'd get to blackmail Beaudreux into becoming involved, and he'd get rid of the one person who was an immediate threat to him all in one night..."

Nikita's stomach twisted uncomfortably. HE HAD HAD HIS OWN DAUGHTER MURDERED...BY HER OWN HUSBAND...she shivered and Michael glanced at her briefly.

Operations looked toward the door as Madelaine entered. She strided calmly to the table and took her seat, crossing her legs and folding her hands on the table waiting for her turn to speak. Operations smiled at her and nodded almost imperceptibly before she began.

**********

"Yes Madelaine?"

"We now know why Heinstrich gave the directory to Black Star...Apparently when Heinstrich was a young boy in Germany he went to school with someone who is now the leader of Black Star. Beaudreux claims Heinstrich never told him the name of this man which will of course make locating him more difficult..." She paused thoughtfully and looked around the room to insure she had everyone's attention "...but not impossible. Beudreax says that Heinstrich had been keeping in touch with this man ever since he left Germany in 1974, and had been providing funds for the formation of Black Star...which was officially activated three months ago with the bombing of a bank in Munich...

***********

"Why did they attack us?" Madelaine turned to look at Michael and said cooly,

"We don't know yet...Heinstrich never asked his "friend" any questions...We have to find them...and ask them....personally..."

"Do you think they'll hit us again?"

Nikita folded her arms across her chest and leaned back farther in her seat. Madelaine smiled at her.

"Their main benefactor is dead...at this point it doesn't seem like they have the money to purchase anymore of the directory...Beaudreux tells me it cost quite a lot...Heinstrich almost went bankrupt because of purchasing it..." She turned to Operations "We have to find the person who is selling pieces of the directory before another incident like this occurs." Operations nodded an 'of course'. "Birkoff is working on it even as we speak...A team will be sent to Germany. We'll take Caoroline Heinstrich with us..."

"Will I be leading the team?" - Michael

"You'll leave with Singer, Price, Jacques, Duncan and Hodgeman when we notify you...any questions?...Good."

**********

Nikita climbed up the stairs to Michaels apartment. She wanted to see him. She hoped he wasn't there.

She was surprized that she hadn't been included in the team. She didn't WANT to go, but it unsettled her all the same...

She didn't know when Michael was leaving. She didn't know when he would be coming back. She felt like a bundle of nerves, and she didn't know what to say even if she did see him....You're a great kisser? Sorry I freaked out? She was so embarressed about that...about losing it in front of him...breaking down...showing how weak she could be...

She came to his door, and pressed her ear against it. She couldn't hear anything. He wasn't home. She stuck her key into the lock, and opened the door. Michael looked up at her from where he crouched at the bookshelf. He calmly placed the novels he was holding into the box in front of him. They were the ones she had brought from home. He couldn't get rid of her fast enough.

She set the keys on the telephone table, and came further into the room. "I didn't think you'd be here..." He nodded, and paused before taking another handful of novels. She wandered over to where he was.

"Have you...really read all of these?" He held up the cover of one of them. It had a female pirate on it with flaming red curls. She held onto Fabio, one hand splayed across his naked chest, the other in his hair pulling his head back to recieve a passionate kiss.

She took it from him, and tossed it carelessly into the box with the others.

"It's called 'living vicariously' Michael..." She though he smiled...but she wasn't sure. She walked over to the kitchen counter and threw, "Do you know when you're leaving?" casually over her shoulder.

"No."

"Oh." She picked up her rolled up posters and played with the rubber bands as she heard him place the last of the books into the box, and tape it up. She looked at the scrap metal fish that hung from some wire over the counter. She unhooked it, and set it down next to the posters.

"Are you all right?" She jumped as his breath kissed the back of her neck. She shrugged, trying to appear disinterested.

"Yeah...I'll get over it. It doesn't matter." She gathered the posters and the fish into her arms and made her way over to the the box. Before she got there, the scrap metal fish fell out of her grasp and crashed onto the floor. She angrily threw the posters down, and bent to retrieve it, but stopped to stare at it as she sucked in her cheeks and took a deep breath. It looked dead. She picked it up, and tossed it on top of the closed box roughly. A piece of it broke off. She didn't care anymore.

*********

"What's wrong Nikita?" She put her hands to her head, and stared into the fish's cracked glass eye.

"I have no fish in my fish tank." Michael paused uncertainly.

"What...?"

"It's really pissing me off, y' know? It's so depressing..." Michael crouched down beside her.

"That's not why you're upset..." Nikita rubbed at her eyes before she started crying again. She wouldn't let herself.

"I'm so stupid...I suppose I could just BUY some but-"

"Nikita...you need to forget..." She looked at him.

"Make me." He stared at her, his lips parted.

"Nikita-" She leaned over and kissed him, cutting him off before he could say 'no'. He resisted at first, then let her push him to the floor, covering his body with hers. She figured he'd stop her if he wanted to...but he didn't. His hands roamed over her back, and lower, as she ravaged his mouth with her kisses.

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

She held him by his wrists, pressing them to the floor, over his head. For once, she was in control...untill he moved, so she was beneath him. His fingers stroked her neck as he kissed her mouth with parted lips. She slipped her hands under his shirt, but he stopoped her.

"No..Nikita...not here..." He reluctantly pushed himself off of her. "Wait..."

He disapeared from her line of vision, and she stared up at the ceiling, breathing hard...WHAT AM I DOING?...

She heard a noise from his room.

"Michael?" She sat up, and went to the bedroom. The door was still down. The noise came again. "Michael...?"

He stepped out from his bedroom. In his hands was a camera, it's thick cords dangling to the floor from between his fingers. He had yanked it out of the wall.

He set the camera down on the floor and turned to her. They stared at each other, their eyes drinking in the sight of eachother. She slowly came to him...put her hands against his chest, and rested her head on his shoulder. His arms carefully circled around her then tightened.

"Are you sure?" He whispered into her ear. She touched the side of his face, and looked up at him lovingly.

"I'm VERY sure..." He nodded at her, brushed her lips with his fingertips.

"Nikita...I..."

"Yes...?" He gazed at her, helplessly stroking her face. He looked scared.

"It's all right..." She whispered, "...You don't have to say anything..." She gently kissed him again before taking his hand and leading him into the darkness of the bedroom.

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

Michael stared at the ceiling, his heart hammering painfully against his chest. He was finding it difficult to breathe. Section would know...They would find out... He turned on his side, to press his body against her warm back, tracing the curve of her shoulder. They'd seperate them...permanently. Operations was already suspicious...that was why Nikita hadn't been included in the team...He froze as she turned in her sleep to face him. Her eyelids trembled as she dreamed. He hoped it was something nice...not like his dreams...Her lips smiled slightly. She was so beautiful...

He didn't regret one minute he had had with her. He knew it would probably be their last...He didn't want that...but there was nothing he could do. Tomorrow would be different...and she would probably hate him...But not tonight. Tonight was theirs alone. He kissed her cheek.

"I love you Nikita."

THE END

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