It was feezing outside. She could see her breath when she breathed. It curled out of her mouth like smoke. When she was little and the weather was cold like this, she used to pretend she was a dragon. When she was a little older and the weather was cold like this, she used to pretend she was smoking. By the time she was a teenager, she didn't even notice it anymore, and hadn't thought of dragons in years...just the Camels in her underwear drawer hidden from her mother. Her mom probably wouldn't have cared anyway.

Nikita shoved her hands into her pockets. She had forgotten her gloves on the table during the debriefing earlier that night. They had just returned from a job in Moscow. It was just as cold here as it had been there. Colder...because she didn't have her gloves. Or her hat. She had left THAT on the plane...

Nikita ducked her chin into the fake-fur lined collar of her jacket, and walked a little faster down the sidewalk. She swore as she slipped on the slick ice for the third time since leaving Section. She winced as she landed on her ass and quickly got back on her feet, looking around to make sure no one had seen her fall. She comtinued down the sidewalk a little slower, and cradeled her sprained wrist to her chest. It had hit the pavement hard when she had fallen. She felt miserable. And cold. The seat of her jeans were wet. PERFECT...

She hated the winter, and had cultivated that hatred during her time on the streets. At least now she could escape the cold. She could go home...turn on the heat. It had been unavoidable when she had had nowhere to go. She had almost froze a couple of times. Nikita shook her head, not wanting to go back there, not even in her memmories.

She sidestepped another patch of ice, and looked up to see her building. One more block to go...

"I said "NO" you f*****g pervert!"

Nikita stopped in midstride.

"C'mon sweetheart...just for a little bit...I'll make it worth your while..."

Nikita crept forward down the rest of the sidewalk, towards the opening of the alley. She saw a man's shadow thrown up against the wall in front of her. It was struggling with someone...someone much smaller...

"Let GO of me you assh-" The woman was silenced as the man's open hand struck her face.

"You're coming with me...and we're going to have some FUN whether you want to or not...", the man dragged her out of the alley and onto the sidewalk. Nikita stepped in front of him. She stood between him and his car.

"Get out of my way..." He snarled at her, and she smiled at him tightly.

"I will as soon as you let her go." The man stared at her, and drew the woman in even closer against him. The light from the street lamp fell upon her face. She couldn't have been more than sixteen.

"Don't make me hurt you..."

"No." Nikita looked from the girls face up to his. "Don't make ME hurt YOU."

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

Nikita put her hands on her hips and blew her bangs out of her eyes impatiently, waiting for a response. Were those ICE crystals forming there...?!

"I don't have TIME for this you b-" Nikita whipped out her gun and pointed it at his forehead.

"It's cold. I'm tired. You're pissing me off. Got it?" The man's eyes crossed as he stared down the barrel. The girl laughed at him and squirmed out from under his grasp. He lifted his hands and backed away. Nikita kept her gun on him as he circled around towards his car. He got in and started it. He pulled away from the curb. Nikita finally lowered her arm as the car oozed down the street. She looked over at the girl who was now squatting down on the cold ground rummaging through her bag. She withdrew a cylinder of paint and heaved it at the car.

"Damn.", she muttered as it just missed the bumper, and stuck her hand in her bag again. Not finding what she wanted, she looked up and frowned at the puddle of black paint spreading out over the pavement.

"SH*T!" She threw the bag down at her feet.

"What...?" Nikita stared at her and the girl shook her head in consternation.

"It was the last can of black I had.", she explained.

***********

"What?"

"Paint. I paint." Nikita stared at her blankly, and the girl rolled her eyes. "Y'know...PICTURES...?"

"You were doing that in an alley...at eleven o'clock at night?"

"No...I was TRYING to get some SLEEP but Pervert kept bugging me..."

"What did he want?" The girl looked at her as though she wanted to pat her on the head and tell her that she was sorry, but the Easter Bunny was NOT real.

"He wanted me to paint his portrait...What do you THINK he wanted?" Nikita gazed at her a moment before deciding to let the sarcasm slide.

"How long have you been out here?"

"About a week I guess.."

"I haven't seen you."

"I haven't seen YOU either.", the girl said defensively, then paused deciding to check the attitude since this chick DID have a gun. "Do you live around here?"

Nikita nodded up the block towards her building. "Over there." She looked at her a moment seeming to come to a decision and said, "Do you want to come inside for a while? To warm up?"

The girl squinted up at her uncertainly.

"How do I know YOU'RE not a pervert?" Nikita laughed and shrugged.

"You don't.", she said starting down the sidewalk again. "But...", she threw over her shoulder, "I did just save your butt..."

Nikita waited as the girl bent down and picked up her bag.

"That WAS pretty cool..." she said slinging the strap over her shoulder. "'I'm cold and tired...You're pissin' me off'...very Schwarzeneggar." She giggled. "He looked like he was going to pee in his pants when you pulled the gun on him..." Nikita ducked her chin back into her jacket hiding a smile.

"He did didn't he?"

"Totally...Served him right...I'm a MINOR for chrissake..."

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

"Wow...you like, actually live here?"

Nikita smiled and shut the door behind them.

"Yeah, I like, actually do...Do you like it?"

"This is the coolest apartment I've ever seen..." The girl wandered further into the room and dropped her bag on the floor next to the couch. "It's like being underwater..."

Nikita looked around at her apartment. She never thought of it that way before, but she realized it was true. Everything was glass and metal...shades of blue...seafoam green...It was completely different from the original version of her apartment.

When she had come home after returning to Section and had found everything gone she had been heartbroken at first...but later admitted to herself that the redecorating had been good for her. She wasn't the same person that Michael had brought here so long ago, and she supposed the new decor reflected that. It was more open and spacious...it allowed fewer spaces for one to hide. It was sparser. She shivered for a moment realizing that it was almost a cozier version of Michael's office.

"I like it..." Nikita looked up at the girl.

"Thanks."

"There's so much wall space...I used to paint on my walls...", she said matter of factly. "I did this great picture of Jim Morrison right next to my bed once. Just a huge painting of his face...My mom made me paint over it though...She thought it was creepy...Whenever she walked past my room she'd complain that he was staring at her...", she shrugged and sat down on the edge of the couch like she was afraid to touch anything.

Nikita watched her for a moment feeling a pain in her chest. She recognized this girl. It was herself four years ago.

"Why did you run away...?" she whispered, and the girl stared down through the glass coffee table at her feet.

"There wasn't a place for me at home. They made sure of that..."

"Who...?" The girl's eyes hardened.

"My mother. And Bill. Her boyfriend." Nikita closed her eyes, the set up so familiar...She tried to push back the flood of memmories that were threatening to drown out the rest of her thoughts. She felt all of a sudden like her old life was coming back in the form of this girl, to haunt her.

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

"Did...they throw you out...?" The girl shook her head tightly, her mouth set in a hard line.

"No...but I couldn't stay there..." She stood suddenly and went to the french doors. She pushed back the gauzy curtains and stared out the window into the courtyard.

"I don't know why SHE did..." silence. "Why...why do people stay with peple who aren't...good to them?" Nikita slowly made her way over to the couch and sat down, tears brimming in her eyes.

"I don't know...", she whispered honestly.

"He...was a bad man. Physically abusive...emotionally abusive...mentally...whatever. He knew I was trying to get her to leave him. I came home from school one day...and my mother wasn't there. He'd sent her away for a while so he could "talk" to me", she smirked,"His idea of a conversation was him screaming at me, me taking it, and him throwing a chair at me when I wouldn't answer. My mom came home later and she didn't believe...that he had threatened me...that he had said he'd kill me if I ever went behind his back again. I believed him. I left." She turned away from the doors and leaned against them. She smiled at Nikita and shrugged. "Whatever...sorry for dumping all this on you...it's not your problem."

Nikita stared at her and swallowed painfully.

"What's your name?"

"Jenna."

"Look Jenna, you said you paint walls right?" She nodded uncertainly. "How 'bout doing mine for me? Any wall you want..." Nikita smiled shakily. "I've got four of them..."

Jenna squinted at her suspiciously. "Are you offering me a job out of pity?"

Nikita didn't answer. It wasn't pity...it was more like a feeling of overwhelming protectiveness that had initiated the offer. Besides...it was cold out there.

Jenna smiled at her."'Cause if you are I'll take it..."

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

Jenna had been living with her for full week and a half before Section called for Josephine.

Nikita had caught a cold and had been sleeping for most of the day. She couldn't seem to get herself out of bed. She thought she heard the phone ring once, but wasn't sure if she was asleep and dreaming it, or awake and ignoring it.

Jenna woke her up around seven to bring her something to eat - leftover chinese food from the other night, and a cup of steaming hot tea that made her nose run when she held the cup to her lips to drink.

"Are you feeling nay better?" Nikita smiled sheepishly and took a sip of the tea.

"I guess I'm still pretty out of it..."

"You've been asleep for HOURS..." Jenna sat down on the bed and hugged a pillow to her chest. "You should probably get up soon...We could watch T.V.? 'Friends' is on in like, ten minutes...Jennifer Aniston's got a new haircut and it's REALLY bad - "

"Did the phone ring at all?" Nikita cut her off remembering her dream, and took another sip of her tea.

"Yeah, once." Jenna yawned and got up from the bed.

"Did you answer it?" Nikita felt her stomach muscles tighten as Jenna looked at her like she was nuts and nodded.

"Yeah...Was I not supposed to?"

"Who was it?"

"I dunno...anyway it was a wrong number." Nikita relaxed just a little.

"Really? How do you know?"...It was a wrong number...a wrong number...She took another sip of tea to calm her nerves.

"It was this weird guy...He had this really fake accent." She laughed. "I think he was trying to be french or something...He was asking for 'Shozefeen'..." Nikita almost choked on her tea but Jenna didn't notice. "I told him he had the wrong number but I don't think he believed me...Hey! Did you ever have a roomate named Jo? Maybe he was lookin' for her?" Nikita nodded mutely and shoved the covers off. Thank God she had fallen asleep fully dressed... Jenna watched in confused silence as Nikita struggled to lace up her boots as quickly as possible.

"When did he call?"

"What?"

"The man. When did he call?"

"I don't know...like, fifteen minutes ago or so...Are you okay?"

Nikita didn't answer, but pushed past her out the bedroom, her heart pounding like a jackhammer in her chest. Jenna followed her out into the hall.

"Nikita...where are you going? What's -"

"I'll be back in a little while okay? I forgot to do something...Just...just don't pick up the phone anymore okay?" Jenna frowned at her.

"What's wrong?" Nikita smiled at her briefy and tugged open the front door.

"Nothing...nothing's wrong...I'll talk to you when I get back okay?" Nikita didn't wait for Jenna's answer. She shut the door in her face and ran the whole way to Section.

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

By the time she got to Section Nikita felt like she was about to keel over from exhaustion and over-exertion. She was definitely sick. Once Operations saw how pathetic she felt (and probably looked), she hoped he might find someone else to take her place in the mission. Not that he cared whether she felt up to it or not, but her dizziness would throw off her aim and she wouldn't be much help. The way she was feeling, she might accidently shoot someone on the team. She stumbled into the briefing room and stopped. It was empty. No one was there except Michael. He sat at his usual place, his eyes on the table. He didn't look up when she entered. He had been waiting for her.

Nikita wiped her nose on her sleeve and looked at him over the cuff of her jacket.

"What's going on? Where is everyone?" He looked up at her.

"Not here."

"I can see that..." Nikita folded her arms across her chest protectively and frowned at him. "Why was I called in? What's the mission profile?"

"There is no profile. There's no mission."

"Then...why did you call me in?"

"I wanted to see you." She stared at him suspiciously and began to circle around the table, away from him.

"Why?", she asked keeping her distance.

"No reason..."

"There's a reason...for everything you do." He gazed at her a moment before responding.

"I wanted to see...how you were doing."

"Bad. I'm sick." She sneezed to prove it, and proceeded to use her sleeve as kleenex (again). "Is that the only reason you called me down here?"

"No." As she came closer to his side of the table she saw that he held something in his lap. Her gloves. "You left these here last week. I thought you'd want them back."

"I did. A week ago. I'm already sick, so they're kind of useless now..." She paused. "You didn't find my hat did you?"

He layed the gloves neatly on the table.

"No." She took them, and leaned against it, next to him, facing him.

"Why did you really call me in Michael? You could have brought these to my apartment..." She was glad he hadn't. Because if he had he might have seen -

"Who answered the phone?"

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

Ah, yes, there it was...

"I think...you already know.", she said moving away from him. "Have you been watching me Michael? Watching my apartment?"

He didn't answer her question.

"Who is she?"

"No one."

"Nikita..."

"Michael." He looked at her a moment, then stood from the table.

"Get rid of her." He turned his back on her to leave. The coldness in her voice stopped him.

"No." He turned towards her the slightest bit.

"Get rid of her.", he repeated.

"She's not a CAT Michael...I can't GIVE her away. I can't...I WON'T...abandon her."

"This is not open for discussion."

"It should be." She felt all the blood rush to her face, making her feel over heated and dizzy. She swayed a little on her feet, but held her ground. "I'm not getting 'rid' of her." He turned towards her completely.

"You know better than this Nikita...especially after..."

"Especially after who? GRAY? Don't worry Michael...", she scoffed. "You don't have to be jealous of Jenna..." God, it was so hot...The room was throbbing with heat waves. She could SEE them..."So, there...Problem solved. No competition for you, and no reason to hurt her."

"You'll hurt her more by letting her stay."

"What am I supposed to do? Toss her out on the street? Like my mother did to me?"

"You're not her mother. You're not responsible for her."

"That's not-"

"Get her out." Nikita stared at him.

"You really are a heartless bastard."

He tried to catch her arm as she pushed passed him. She moved away from his hand as though it were a poisonous snake. He called out her name as she left him, staring after her, in the empty briefing room.

***********

She intended to storm out of Section and go straight home. She didn't even make it to the elevators. She was just passing Walter's station when she felt the floor slant upward in front of her, and almost fell. Walter caught her, and helped her over to the chair in front of his desk.

"Are you okay Sugar?" He peered into her face, woried. She closed her eyes, and rested her head on his desk, not answering. When she opened them again, the room was still spinning.

"Nikita?"

"I have a problem Walter..."

"I can see that. You need a doctor Sugar. I'll take you down to Medlab if-"

"No...", she mumbled. "No...I...I just really need to talk to someone...to you.", she whispered, "Sometimes Walter...you're the only one I trust here..." Walter pulled his own chair next to hers and sat down.

"What happened?" Nikita shook her head and stood. Walter held out his hand to steady her, and she took it even though the dizziness was gone, and pulled him near.

"No...I can't talk here...could we go somewhere?...please...?" Walter looked down at the com unit laying with it's insides splayed out on his desk. It had a glitch. It had been picking up radio waves. Operations wanted it fixed by tomorrow morning. He could repair it in ten minutes if he wanted to.

Nikita looked at this project then at him.

"Do you have a minute...?" she asked doubtfully, and he smiled his gentle smile.

"Sure Sugar, I got all the time in the world..."

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

They went to a cafe a few blocks away from Section. She had been there a couple times before with Michael for coffee. She avoided the booth where they usually sat at the back, and slid into one near the window. Walter ordered tea and she smiled at him.

"You drink tea?"

"It's for you Sugar. You need it."

She gazed out the window, at the snow falling in lazy circles, coating the ground. There was a bum outside the window.

He looked into her eyes from the other side of the glass then turned and continued on his way caughing painfully into his ragged gloves. She tore her gaze away from his retreating back and turned to Walter who was waiting patiently. She told him about Jenna. She told him what Michael wanted her to do.

"I...I know why he wants me to do it...I understand...WHY...but I can't Walter. I just...can't. She is who I was...who I might have been if someone had helped me...No one helped me Walter...and look what happened...Look what happened to me."

"Sugar...", he said carefully, "I hate to say this, but what happened to you COULD happen to her..." Nikita was silent then she began to nod to herself slowly.

"She's too close to Section...because she's too close to me...They'll either recruit her...or kill her..." She held her face in her hands. "If I kick her out...she'll have nowhere to go..."

"I don't know what to tell you...", his hands crept across the table and held onto hers. "The only thing you can do is...find a place for her somewhere."

"You mean...a shelter?", she shook her head, "I've been to shelters...they aren't always safe..." Walter was quiet for a moment as he thought, then looked up suddenly.

"There are refuges for kids like Jenna...They aren't shelters. They're homes for troubled kids. They find jobs for them...give them a place to stay untill they're eighteen." She nodded reluctantly.

"We could...check that out..."

"I'll ask Birkoff to run a check on where the refuges are located and if there are any spaces open...I'll ask him to bring them over to you...", he squeezed her hand reasurringly. "It'll all work out Nikita..."

"I really hope so Walter..."

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

Birkoff had never been to Nikita's apartment before.

He climbed the steps hesitantly, holding his folder of papers to his chest so they wouldn't blow away. He looked through the glass of the front door, then turned back to observe the rest of the stoop. There wasn't a buzzer or anything to ring up. He stood there for a while in the cold feeling stupid. He hated the winter. He was just about to leave and go home when he heard the elevator inside "bing" open. A woman walked out, but it wasn't Nikita. He waited patiently for the woman to open the door. He held it for her when she did, and she looked at him suspiciously as she passed.

"There's no buzzer...", he said stupidly.

"The front door's always open."

"Oh." He hadn't tried it. "Thanks." He entered the lobby and slipped into the empty elevator. He pushed four.

When the doors slid open again he stepped out into the hallway. He had written the apartment number Walter had given him on his hand, and stared down at it in dismay. The ink had smudged when he had pulled off his glove. He squinted down at the blurry numbers, then paused. Muffled music tumbled down the corridor from behind one of the doors. Something told him that that was the apartment he was looking for.

He went up to it and knocked. No answer. He pressed his ear to the door and was finally able to identify the song - "Break On Through". He heard two voices singing along rather badly, and laughing. He knocked again, harder. After a moment, the music level plummeted and he heard the chain scrape back from the door. It opened in a wide arc, and Nikita stood on the other side of it grinning. There was blue paint in her hair, and white paint smeared across her chest over the logo on her t-shirt that said "A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle".

"Hi Birkoff."

**********

"We were just doin' some painting..." Nikita stepped back and motioned Birkoff inside. The floor and furniture were covered with tarps, and a girl was tugging a japanese screen in front of one of the walls that looked like it had some kind of mural on it. The girl looked up when he entered.

"I was painting...SHE was getting in my way!" Birkoff smiled. She was cute. He turned to Nikita who was shutting the door and laughed. There was a big swash of purple across the seat of her pants. He looked back at the girl who stood with her hands on her hips, her eyebrows raised. She winked at him.

"That's what you get when you peek..." Birkoff stepped further into the room forgetting all about Nikita's purple butt, and smiled at the girl.

"You're a painter?"

"I hope so, otherwise this isn't gonna look too good." She held out her hand. "I'm Jenna." He reached out to take it, then realized it was dripping with paint. She looked at him expectantly, and he took it anyway, feeling their fingers slide together.

"Birkoff." She grinned at him.

"I didn't think you'd do it." She wiped her hand on her ruined jeans, and nodded at his blue one. She winked at him again and said as she bent down to retrieve a paintbrush, "Blue's your color."

She moved to the sink to rinse out the brush. He was about to follow, but stopped when Nikita stepped in front of him, an amused smile playing on her lips.

"Thinking of taking up painting lessons?" He lifted his chin to look over Nikita's shoulder, and smiled at Jenna's back.

"Depends on who's teaching..." Nikita snapped her fingers in front of his eyes and he turned his attention back to her, suddenly professional.

"Walter asked me to bring these to you." He handed her the folder of papers. She took it, leaving a hand print on the cover.

"Thanks..."

"Yeah...There aren't that many spaces open in the places I looked up...", he said absently trying to get a better look at Jenna. "What's with the interest in refuges all of a sudden?"

Nikita froze. Jenna dropped her paint brush in the sink, and it landed with an unpleasant clatter. She stood in front of it, not moving. Birkoff looked up at Nikita his eyes wide. Her head was tilted the slightest bit towards Jenna, her lips parted, ready for an explanation.

Birkoff watched as Jenna turned off the sink, and left the kitchen, stumbling over the flipped up corner of one of the tarps. She calmly walked into one of the rooms, and shut the door behind her. Nikita stared at it and swallowed.

"Look, I'm sorry...I didn't - "

"I think you'd better go Birkoff."

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

Nikita sat on her couch in the darkness of her apartment with her head in her hands. Jenna hadn't come out since

Birkoff had left over an hour ago, mumbling apologies as she all but picked him up and threw him out the door.

Nikita didn't know what to say to her. She felt like crap, and she felt guilty feeling that way because Jenna probably felt worse. She had betrayed her - that must be what she was thinking. Nikita had turned her over to the state...

But...what other choice did she have?

Deep down she knew Michael was right, and had been right from the very beginning. She hated him for it. Jenna couldn't stay with her - not without getting into more trouble than she was already in. She would have had to tell her sooner or later...Birkoff had just...helped make it sooner...

Nikita sprang to her feet as she heard the door finally open. Jenna faltered in the doorway when she saw her.

"Jenna I - " The girl waved her hand at her dismissively.

"No...Look, it's cool...I mean...well, it's NOT cool but...I...y'know...I understand...or whatever....I mean I know I wasn't gonna stay here FOREVER...just untill I was finished..." Nikita tried to speak but she cut her off. "So I thought I'd do that."

"Jenna..."

"I know you're trying to help me Nik...and you have...more than you know. I...trust you." Nikita closed her eyes. "So that's why I'm willing to give that refuge thing a shot..."

"Jenna..."

"God, you look really tired..." Jenna squatted down, and pried the lid off a can of fresh paint. Nikit watched as she mixed it, and poured it into a bowel, then stood suddenly, and dipped a brush into it, testing the consistency. She looked into her eyes and smiled sadly. "You should go to sleep. We can talk tomorrow."

Nikita stared at her a minute. She didn't know what else to do, so she listened. She placed her hand on Jenna's shoulder as she passed her.

"Tomorrow," she said softly.

Jenna simply nodded, her silence following Nikita into her bedroom, and keeping her company the rest of the night.

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

It was quiet in the apartment. Quieter than it should have been with two people living in it. Nikita layed on her bed staring up at her ceiling, listening for Jenna. She didn't hear her. She knew she wouldn't. She knew she was gone. She had known last night.

Nikita sat up suddenly, throwing the covers back. She thought she had heard the door close. "Jenna...?"

She ran out into the hallway, the living room. The air was still. She opened the front door and looked out. Nothing. She closed the door and leaned against it, closing her eyes. She had known Jenna would leave...because that's what she would have done.

Nikita opened her eyes and stopped. Jenna had finished. Nikita walked towards the painting. It covered the entire wall...an ocean of blues and greens and purples...different shades blending together Vango-like forming crests and swirls. The sky was put together in the same fashion - curls of creams, dark and light blues, twists of pale green... Clouds with their bellies shaded in black and grey. She had painted rocks in the corner. They were tall, almost stretching to the ceiling...browns and golds, yellows and whites dripping with the water the waves had flung against their jagged outcrops.

There was one bird alone in that painted sky, feathered brush strokes forming its white wings curling over the invisible wind it rode on. There was no sun, just a lonely moon - no stars. Nikita looked closer and saw that everything was coated in an almost transparent blue. She had painted moonlight.

Nikita reached out to touch the water with the pale blue light glinting off the waves, and her fingers came away wet. She looked for something to wipe her hands on, and glanced down at the floor, a flash of white catching her eye. A note.

DON'T TOUCH!!! IT'S STILL WET! sorry about the pants... love, Jenna

Nikita smiled softly to herself, then paused. The paint was fresh. She hadn't finished that long ago...maybe the door had been her...

Nikita wandered over to the french doors and opened them. She leaned over the railing, feeling the cold winter wind rush against her face. She looked down into the street. Jenna was there talking to a man. Nikita recognized him. Jared. From Section.

"Bastard!" Nikita slammed her fist against the railing. She turned to run to the door, and slammed into Michael. He caught her by the waist to keep her from falling backwards. She shoved his hands off her, then pushed past him to the door. He grabbed her wrist and she swung at him. He caught her fist and held her struggling body to him. She stopped fighting, and his grip loosened slightly. She tore away from him.

"If she's hurt - "

"She's going home." Nikita stared at him and said through clenched teeth,

"That's what she was running away from in the first place..."

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

Michael had told her Jenna's address. He had reluctantly given her the information after she had promised not to interfere. She told him all she wanted to do was make sure she was okay. He told her she would be. She told him to go to hell. He gave her the address.

Nikita recognized the street. She had walked down it before. She had even known the building. It was the only one without flower boxes under the windows. It had seemed colder than the others.

The front door burst open suddenly. A man tumbled out onto the stoop, and stumbled down the stairs. Michael followed him onto the sidewalk. He didn't have a gun, but the man cowered beneath him anyway. She watched as Michael yanked him up by the collar from the ground and pulled him close. He said something to him, and the man nodded frantically before Michael shoved him away. The man ran down the street away from Michael, away from the apartment building.

Michael looked once around the street and stood there a moment staring down at the pavement. He turned on his heel and started off down the sidewalk in the same direction Bill had gone.

Nikita stood there in the shadows staring up at the windows of the building. Third from the left. That was Jenna's. She had come to see if she was okay. She knew now she would be, and she walked away whispering a goodbye to the window, third from the left.

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