Michael sat in the dark and looked about broodingly at the silent forest surrounding him. He was half a mile away from the primary action. Relegated to the lowly position of back-up. He didn't even have a direct com-link to what was going down at the front. All he could do was wait for them to contact him if they needed him. If they needed him.

He lowered his eyes and looked at his clasped hands. He had worked hard to earn his position in Section, not because he wanted power, but because he had a need to excel in all that he did. A part of it stemmed from the guilt he still felt after all these years toward his parents. They had had such high hopes for him. They had wanted him to attend university and to follow his father's footsteps in becoming a medical doctor. Instead he had fallen into the wrong crowd and, ultimately, disappointed them.

When Section came along and offered him a second chance at life, Michael grabbed at it, determined to redeem himself by devoting his life to Section's cause and becoming the best operative he could possibly be. It was his own private way of telling his parents, though they were both long dead now, that he was sorry. But now everything that he had worked for was being taken from him. Madeline and Operations were shutting him off, pushing his buttons, and doing a good job of it too. They had stripped him of his status, his privileges, and now they were working on taking away his dignity, and all because they were afraid.

Why? He had given Section everything they had ever asked of him. His body, his loyalty, his soul, even his life's seed. All of it he had done willingly while rationalizing that it was for the better good. But then Nikita had come along and challenged his beliefs, made fun of his loyalty, cursed his methodology, and through her rebelliousness, compassion, and sheer bullheadedness, made him fall helplessly in love with her.

Don't you ever get tired of being their errand boy? Nikita had asked him that right in front of Madeline. She had thrown it out at him like a challenge; daring him to, for once, follow his conscience and his heart. Well that's what he was doing now. He had had enough of Section's greed and abuse, and now he was going after what he wanted.

He knew this rebelliousness on his part frightened Section's top leaders. For years he had honed his skill and became the perfect weapon for them. His loyalty had been unquestionable and he had risen through the ranks to become the heir apparent. But now that he dared to allow another influence into his life, namely Nikita, they were insanely jealous and wanted to recapture complete control of him. Michael, though, had no intention of allowing them to do that. He'd given up too much in the past and he was determined that he would not give up Nikita also.

Michael's com unit crackled to life and he instantly fell into mission mode as he listened for directions. "All teams back to the van," came the order, and Michael stood and made his way quickly back to the van. When he arrived the primary teams were already in. He took a seat on the bench and sat quietly, his expression impassive. He was aware that some of the other operatives were staring at him. They were curious as to how he, the heir apparent, had suddenly plummeted from grace to the most menial of positions. But they were also aware that this was Section, and as such, anything was possible. A few weeks ago he was running Section as Operation's replacement while he was on leave and today he was demoted to being back up on a mission he could have ran with his eyes closed.

After debriefing, Michael was headed out to his car when he ran into Nikita. He stopped. His eyes roamed over her face, reading the concern and heartache in her eyes.

"I thought you were down," he said, his voice flat as he averted his gaze.

"I was," she answered, trying to sound cheerful. "But I got bored so I came in."

Michael's gaze cut back to meet hers and he felt a longing stir within him. Was it so wrong to want to be loved by her? Madeline and Operations thought so and they were doing everything possible to make him stop seeing her.

"Are you on your way home?" Nikita asked.

"Yes."

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, watching him carefully. "I've got my car. I can give you a ride to your place."

Michael nodded and turned to walk beside her. "Thanks," he murmured, and then he was quiet the rest of the way home. Nikita pulled her car up outside his loft and turned to face him. Over the past weeks she had become very adept at reading his moods but there were times when she still misread him.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" she asked.

Michael turned and reached for her hand. "Stay with me."

Nikita looked into his eyes and saw his need for her reflected within. She squeezed his hand gently and nodded. They parked and then walked into his apartment with their hands linked. Once inside, Michael turned and pulled her lightly into his arms, and then he held her.

If only time could stand still, he thought. He would pause life right at this moment and remain in this position happily through all eternity.

"What is it that you want?" Nikita asked, as she pressed her cheek against his. "Tell me, Michael."

"I want for you to be near me," Michael replied. He could feel her lashes brush rapidly against his cheek. He heard her sharply drawn breath, felt the slight tremor that ran through her body. Michael closed his eyes and turned slightly. He kissed the corner of her mouth and shared the intimacy of being close to her.

After several minutes, Nikita ran her fingers through Michael's hair and sighed. "Go take a shower. I'll see if there's anything to make for you to eat." He took her fingers, though, and silently pulled her after him.

"Michael?"

He tightened his hold on her fingers. Through the bedroom he led her and over to the bathroom. The light flicked on, then Michael turned and looked into her eyes. Without uttering a word, he began to undress. Nikita watched his fingers unfasten the buttons of his shirt one by one. When he reached the fourth one, she reached for the zipper of her skirt and pulled it down. Silently they undressed, and when they were done, Michael placed his hands on her hips and drew her slowly to him.

Nikita trembled to feel his hands, sure and knowledgeable, glide over her skin, molding her body to his. Her head rolled back as her hands guided his mouth from her cheek to her neck, then to her shoulder, then allowed him to venture where he would as she reveled in his touch.

She gazed down upon his auburn hair and felt her heart swell within. Michael -- son of the morning light. How had she come to love him so, she wondered? He who had welcomed her into this dark world and taught her how to survive. He who had stripped her of her naivete and taught her to be a woman. He gazed up at her now with his haunting eyes and all of her questions fled. It didn't matter how she had arrived at this point, she concluded. All that mattered was that they were together.

His fingers brushed against her cheek. "What do you want?" he asked, and Nikita gazed with undeniable desire into his eyes.

"You."

A brush of his lips against hers, and then he was leading her to the tub. She stood behind him, her body pressed against the curve of his hips as he bent to turn on the faucet. As he tested the water, she glided her hands along the hard contours of his body till he caught her tortuous fingers, and held them still in his. A chastising look from his green eyes garnered an unrepenting smile from her, and he sighed with resignation. To his dying day she would challenge him... it was one of the things he loved best about her.

Stepping into the tub, Michael settled down, then held his hand out to help Nikita in. He moved his hands to her sides as she lowered herself down in front of him, then reclined with a soft moan against him. He smiled as his legs cradled her and his arms encircled her.

His mind wandered back to the mission; the humiliation he felt at being thrust into such a lowly position and the betrayal he felt from the leaders to whom he had dedicated the past seven years of his life. Hatred mingled with frustration and pain. His body tensed and his fingers clenched. Nikita turned her head and looked up at him with questioning eyes.

"Are you all right?" she asked softly.

Michael gazed into her eyes and drank deeply of the unspoken love he saw reflected within. Was this all worth it, he wondered? Would he be able to play out this new position Section was placing him in?

Nikita sat up and turned to face him more fully. "Michael, what is it?"

Silently he shook his head and pulled Nikita back against him once more. "It’s nothing," he whispered. Then closed his eyes and sighed.