It was past eight when Michael finished his shift. The halls were empty, a result of there not being any missions on pad. As he made his way toward the exit Michael took a good survey of their new facilities. It was almost identical to the last one. Systems was a little larger, there were more workstations, and the training areas were now all located on the fourth level. He had heard operatives speaking earlier of the new close quarters being larger also. For Michael, though, Section was Section. It didn't matter what new changes they put in or where they relocated to. The fact remained that Section continued to control all their lives.

Or did it?

His mind flashed back to Nikita and the stand-off she had with Operations. For as long as he lived he would not understand her. He had long ago given up on the hope that she would just learn to do the job and keep her opinions to herself. Sometimes he felt like grabbing her and shaking some sense into her. If she didn't care about her own life then at least feel something for him. Did she think he would be able to stand idly by and watch her be cancelled? If so, then she was wrong.

The past two months had been torment on him beginning from the night Nikita told him she couldn't accept a casual relationship between them. He had understood her point of view and accepted it. But with each passing day Michael found it increasingly impossible to stay away from her. Who was he kidding anyway? At least Nikita had been honest in her feelings and had the courage to stand up for what she believed in. A weaker woman would have crumbled and accepted any type of relationship he offered. But not her. Not his Nikita. She defied him just as she did Operations and Madeline. And Michael found that he loved her all the more for it.

As he stepped out into the streets, Michael pulled his cell phone out from his coat pocket and dialed her number. She answered after the third ring.

"Yes?"

"Nikita, it’s me."

At her apartment Nikita sat down and took a deep breath. It had been a long time since Michael had called for her and not Josephine. "What is it, Michael?" she asked, trying to keep the longing she felt for him out of her voice.

There was a pause, then: "Have you had dinner yet?"

"No." One hand swept her hair back carelessly as she leaned forward, resting her elbow on spread knees. "I'm not very hungry."

Another pause. "I'd like to come over, Nikita," Michael said. In the background she could hear the sound of traffic.

"Why?"

"To talk," he replied, his voice quiet. "We used to be able to do that. Remember?"

Nikita did remember. She remembered the numerous times they'd left Section together, ostensibly to have a cup of coffee, but in reality, at least for her, it was an opportunity to be together. Quietly sitting across from each other drinking their coffee and staring into each other's eyes.

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Michael. Besides I don't have much to say."

"Then you can listen and I'll do the talking." He heard her laugh briefly at that and Michael was sure Nikita was remembering that it was usually the other way around between the two of them. "Ten minutes, Nikita. Let me have my say and then afterward I'll leave."

She hesitated, then finally relented. "Alright. What time?"

"I'll be there in thirty minutes."

When Michael showed up at her door at the specified time he bore in his arms a bag of take-out. Nikita eyed the bag as she stood in the doorway. "I thought we were going to talk? Or rather, you were going to talk."

"I haven't eaten since this morning." he said by way of explanation. "I was hungry."

Something about his tone along with his admittance of being hungry softened Nikita's resolve and she moved off to the side to allow him in. She locked the door then joined him in the kitchen. As he unpacked the cartons of Chinese food, Nikita brought out glasses and took them over to the table. Michael joined her. They ate in silence. Nikita watched as Michael loaded his plate and ate. It was the first time she had seen him with such a healthy appetite. Normally she was the famished one while he did the watching. Afterward Michael helped her clean up and then they returned to their seats.

"This has been a strange week," Nikita mused out loud. "I don't know what's more surprising; Operations blowing up Section or you coming here for dinner again."

"I didn't choose to stay away," he answered, looking her in the eye.

"So why did you?"

"Maybe enough time has passed," he replied. Certainly enough time had passed for him to realize that he couldn't go on with things the way were between them. Michael hoped the same was true for Nikita. Instead she said:

"Maybe too much time has passed, Michael."

He stared at her. "I hope not." Michael leaned forward and refilled her wine glass. This almost felt like a repeat of their last dinner, he thought. He saw her look at the glass and knew she remembered also. Her blue eyes flicked back up, meeting his.

"Thank you," she said, and hope sparked within him as she accepted the wine he offered. "So, why are you here now?" she asked, placing the ball in his court.

There it was, Michael thought. His window of opportunity to set everything between them right. To let her know that he couldn't live with the way things were between them. To let Nikita know that he wanted - no, he needed more. Meeting her gaze, Michael summed up his feelings in three words: "I missed you."

Whatever Nikita had been expecting Michael to say, 'I missed you', was not it. Her pulse raced as she felt the fire she felt for Michael flare to life. She sat, uncertainty flickering in her eyes as Michael stared at her - waiting. "What do you expect me to say to that?" she asked.

His lashes lowered as he stared at his hands. Then he looked back up at her. "The truth."

Nikita took a deep breath as she frowned and looked off to the side. The truth? Which truth? That she still ached with desire everytime she saw him? That she longed for his touch? His kiss? In disgust she stood and took several steps away.

"The truth." Nikita turned her head, resting her chin on her shoulder as she gazed at Michael for several long seconds. Then, in a small voice, she admitted quietly, "I miss you too."

Silently he rose and closed the distance between them. Michael placed his hands on her hips and turned her around to face him. His eyes searched hers. Slowly he pulled her closer. "You were right," he said, as his hand reached up to touch the face that had haunted his dreams for so long. "Things can't be casual between us."

Nikita leaned imperceptibly closer. Her eyes closed momentarily as she relished the feel of his fingers brushing against her mouth, cheeks, neck. "What do you want?" she asked after a minute.

He hesitated only for a second, then said: "This," and he closed the last few inches between them as he leaned forward and placed his lips over hers. So soft. He trembled as he felt her lips part. Their breaths mingled, and then he deepened their kiss.

"Ni-ki-ta," he moaned, drinking deeply of her sweetness like a man dying of thirst. She responded by sliding her arms around his waist and pulled him closer. Reality melded with her recollection of the feel of his body pressed against hers. Reluctantly she pulled back so that she could look into his eyes.

"Make your choice now, Michael. Either you're with me all the way or you walk away now and never come back."

Michael's eyes were clearer then Nikita had ever seen them before as he looked at her and replied firmly, "I choose to stay."