Nikita awoke slowly, as though coming up from deep underwater. She knew what had triggered this reluctant return to consciousness in the darkest part of the night. She was not afraid. She'd been expecting this since the beginning.

"You're here to take me back," she said in a low voice, speaking to the shadowy figure at the end of her bed.

"No." Was the soft reply. Then silence once more.

As her eyes adjusted to the spill of moonlight coming in the window, Nikita could see more of her visitor. Her eyes confirmed what intuition had already told her. She waited.

"I...wanted to make sure you were all right." Their eyes met. Nikita continued to wait, gathering her own thoughts and allowing the silence to spin out. Finally she spoke.

"You know I'm all right. You've been here before. I thought it was a dream, but it wasn't, was it? Somehow you've found me…or kept track of me all along."

"Yes," came the softly accented voice. More silence. In the surreally moonlit room it seemed impossible to feel either fear or anger, and Nikita had to admit that her true overriding feeling was that of relief. Finally, he had come.

Nikita sighed in familiar frustration. Always, it was such hard work with this one. She sat up cross-legged and reached over to light a candle on her bedside table. The flame chased flickering shadows into the corners of the room and revealed the somber face sitting a few feet away from her. She looked at him for some moments then finally spoke, keeping her voice even and relaxed.

"Tell me why you are here."

Michael continued to look at her for a few moments before casting his eyes upward, visibly trying to decide what to say. Finally he looked down at his hands. "I missed you". After these quiet words he looked up into Nikita's face. She carefully maintained a neutral expression, but couldn't help an intense searching of his eyes, trying to find the truth of his words. She found that she was no longer able to try and second guess his meaning, his intentions, his motives. Here in the midnight shadows there would be only truth - or lies. Shades of gray did not exist. Her life was such now that it was possible only to listen to her heart, and follow whatever truth she found there.

Nikita looked closely at Michael. His face held lines of deep fatigue. His customary stillness seemed to convey not control and watchfulness, but sadness and defeat. Even without knowing any of the answers, Nikita knew that her decision was made. Pushing back the blankets, she went to stand before Michael. When he raised his eyes she gave him a soft smile and lifted her hand to smooth back his hair. "You'll stay?" He nodded, mute, then leaned forward until his head rested against her. Without speaking any further Nikita pulled Michael's shoes and shirt from him. She snuffed the candle and drew him into her arms, feeling him relax and fall asleep within moments. Nikita looked into the shadows for a long time.

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

"Where in the hell is he - again? He can't just disappear!" Operations glared at Madeline, angered by both her calm demeanor and her lack of answers. "I don't know", she replied. "He left here last night around 10 pm and hasn't been heard from since. You know we don't keep surveillance on him outside his home."

Turning away momentarily, Operations calmed himself and organized his thoughts. This whole situation was bad and seemed to be getting worse. It was no time to be angry. Anger made for clouded judgement; clouded judgement rendered bad decisions.

"What are we dealing with here?", he asked as he turned back.

Madeline smiled, knowing that having Michael off the leash was one of the most intolerable situations Operations could think of. "Well, summing things up briefly, I would say that Michael is not adjusting to Nikita's absence. Since the suicide mission eight months ago he has become progressively more distanced and distracted. "

Operations paced. "Yes. We've seen this before. He'll get over it in time."

"No. There's more. In the past few weeks there have been three other unaccounted absences. While I have not yet questioned him about them, I did note that he seemed more peaceful and cooperative upon his return. I believe he has found the answer to his problem."

"What do you mean?", Operations said, his voice beginning to rise. Even dead Nikita was a thorn in his side. Madeline being obtuse wasn't helping his attitude.

"If Nikita were dead, he would find a way to deal with it. Michael is pining for someone who is still alive. I think he has found Nikita. He knows where she is and he can't stay away."

Operations looked at Madeline. She was straight-faced and calm as she delivered this shocking theory. He could feel his temper beginning to rise again and deliberately forced it back. Could this be? If so, how best to use it?

Their eyes met, long association telling each the other's thoughts. Operations smiled without mirth. "Let's find out what's going on."

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

It was late in the morning. Cold rain pattered against the windows, muffling the outside world. Nikita lay without moving. She had slept little through the remainder of the night, instead spending the time first quietly contemplating Michael's tired face as he slept, then imagining every different scenario she could come up with for his reappearance. Michael seemed undisturbed either by dreams or by Nikita's wakefulness. He had, however, followed her restless form from position to position in the bed, always maintaining physical contact between them.

At last Nikita gently disengaged herself from Michael's arm and slipped out of bed. In the kitchen she wrapped her robe tightly around herself and stared out at the rain as the coffee maker burped and steamed on the counter. Michael would undoubtedly wake soon and they would have to talk. She would have to make decisions. Nikita sighed, wishing she had more information to work with.

In the dimly lit bedroom Michael had awakened the moment Nikita left his side. He lay listening to the rain, the crackle of the gas log in the apartment's small living room and the quiet clinks from the kitchen. When the aroma of coffee made its way into the room he knew he could delay no further, and rolled reluctantly out of bed.

Nikita was tucked into the corner of the sofa, staring into the fire and nursing her coffee cup. Michael joined her there, facing her from the opposite end and parking his coffee on the low table. The gentle tapping of the rain and the hiss of the fire enveloped the room in intimacy.

Nikita put down her coffee and turned to face him. "Do they know you're here with me?" No need to clarify who "they" were.

"No", Michael replied.

"So…they don't know I'm alive?"

"No. As far as they know, you died as intended in the explosion."

"All right," said Nikita. "You've been here before. Now here you are again. Why don't you tell me what this is all about." She waited patiently.

Michael's eyes were focused on the flames, but plainly saw only what was in his mind. "Things….have not been going well lately." While lacking in detail, this admission spoke volumes.

Michael leaned forward, threading his fingers through his hair and resting his forehead on his palms. "The Section does an important job. I have always believed that and I still do. That has always been enough before." He took a deep breath, holding it a moment before letting it out. "Even after losing Simone I was somehow able to block things out, just continue on." He finally looked up at Nikita, his eyes caressing her face before dropping once more to his hands. "This…I can't.." He stopped, drew another breath as if to speak then stopped again in defeat. "I'm sorry Nikita. I should not have come here, I've exposed you to a great risk."

"Then you must have had a great need." Nikita spoke softly, then moved over on the couch until their bodies were in contact. "Michael, you gave me the greatest gift anyone has ever given me. I never had the chance until now to tell you how grateful I am for that. I also never thought what giving me my freedom may have cost you." She folded her hands around his and looked into his face, even though he refused to meet her eyes. "All that time I tried so hard to get close to you, understand you, let you trust me. I thought I had failed." Nikita reached up and turned his face so he looking at her. "I didn't fail, did I?

Michael sighed then, smiled slightly and reached out to pull Nikita to him, cradling her head against his chest. The wind blew a gust of cold rain against the window glass. "No, you didn't fail." His arms closed tightly. "I can't do this job any more without you there. I want you to come back…but on our terms."

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

"Right. We've talked this to death, let's sum up." Operations sat with Madeline at the conference table, fondling a small cigar.

Madeline looked down at notes she had made and thought for a moment. "Working on the assumption that my theory about Nikita is correct, we have few viable options. One, we monitor but don't interfere and see what develops in Michael's behavior. Two, we attempt to track or tail Michael, observe their meetings and judge the nature of the situation. Three, we confront Michael directly with our suspicions."

"Four", said Operations, "we order him to cancel her."

Madeline smiled. "If my feeling about this is correct, the Michael who would have done that before is no longer the Michael we are dealing with now." She gestured to her computer screen, which had up a chronology of Michael's tenure with the Section. "This is a long list of emotional loss, physical pain and impossible moral decisions. This has been Michael's life."

"So?" Operations grunted. "All of us live that way. He's always handled it before."

Madeline shook her head. "No. We don't all live that way. Even you and I have each other. Michael has no one now that Nikita is gone. He simply won't let anyone else in." She continued thoughtfully. "He couldn't continue on indefinitely the way he was after Simone; before long he'd have become ineffective. Even Michael needs someone. Nikita managed to be there, somehow, and I believe he realizes that now. That loss is what he can't come to terms with."

Madeline leaned back in her chair and regarded Operations with her soft brown eyes. "Trying to track him would be futile and only make him more careful. I think we should confront him, see what he will admit to and then see what he has in mind. I'll talk to him." She paused. "Unless, of course, you don't think Michael is worth taking any particular pains over any longer. The last option on the list would be to cancel them both." She knew, of course, that Operations would never agree to cancellation of his pet and protégé except under the most extreme circumstances.

Operations stabbed out his cigar and rubbed his hands over his eyes. "That's not a good option", he muttered as he got up from his chair. He stopped and spoke over his shoulder at the doorway. "See what you can do. Keep me posted."

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

He wants me to come back! Nikita stiffened immediately at Michael's words, her mind racing in incredulous circles. She pushed herself violently away from Michael with both hands and snarled at him. "Of course. This is a job! You *are* here to take me back and fool that I am I fell for you just like every other time. Why would you even take me back? Why not just cancel me now? Why do this to me first?" She rose and stumbled across the room to the fireplace, shaking her head. "How can I even be surprised by this?" Pain overcame the outrage, then, just as quickly turned to despair. The questions never had answers. Let this be the end of it.

As she turned back Michael recognized what he saw before him; he knew it from his own mirror every single day for the last eight months. Nikita's eyes were dead in spite of the unshed tears which lingered there. All hope and light had disappeared, to be replaced by resignation. He rose and went to stand before her, not touching her. "You are wrong. How can I convince you?"

"You can't," came her slow reply. "I don't believe anything you say." She turned away.

Sensing rather than hearing, Nikita knew Michael was standing very close behind her. She saw something move into her peripheral vision and turned her head slightly to focus on the object he was holding in his fingers. It was a microchip. "The Directory", he whispered.

Nikita turned, stunned. "You had it all along," was all she could think of to say.

"Yes," he replied, his eyes clear and focused intently on hers.

Nikita's thoughts tumbled over one another faster than she could process them. Finally she looked back at Michael, trying to guess where he was going with this. "Nikita, I have to return to the Section. If you can still…care…at all for me I want very much for you to come with me. This," he said, glancing at the chip, "will let us be together."

He placed warm hands on her shoulders and she could feel the heat of his body. "This is selfish of me to ask, I know. There is no certainty." His hands turned her until they were again face to face. The firelight flickered on his features and leaped in his eyes as though a second fire burned within. Nikita felt herself spinning down helplessly, held in place only by the intensity of his gaze. Time to listen to her heart. She nodded slightly and closed her eyes as they drew gradually closer to each other until their lips brushed in a tentative first kiss. Time to believe. Another, longer kiss. His mouth was soft, warm and moved maddeningly on hers. Time to trust. Their lips parted slowly and each tasted the lingering coffee flavor of the other. Michael's hands moved over her body; clothing dissolved and the fire felt warm on their skin. Outside, the wind and rain continued unheeded. This, then, was the way it would be.

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

Madeline watched from above as Michael walked briskly down the hall toward his office. His shoulders were back, his face calm. Clearly, this was an altogether different man than had left two nights earlier. She nodded to herself then reached for the phone to summon him to her office.

Michael walked through the door wearing his habitual blank expression. If he was expecting anything out of the ordinary this morning, it didn't show on his face. Madeline turned from the mannequin she was inspecting and smiled warmly at him. "You're looking better this morning."

"I'm fine." The standard reply.

"Please, sit down." Madeline gestured to a chair then moved to stand behind it, resting her hands on Michael's shoulders and reaching under his hair to tent her fingers onto the smooth skin of his neck. He was silent.

"Is she going to come back?" Madeline asked the question quietly and without preamble. Although he remained still she could feel the muscles tense immediately under her fingers. Yes, her theory was correct.

He spoke without turning to look at her. "Yes. "

Madeline moved out from behind the chair and went to her desk, perching on the edge and regarding Michael with an unreadable expression in her dark eyes. "Obviously you know this can't happen. But tell me how you see it. I doubt that you are planning to simply be willful and demand your way." She smiled slightly, the smile not reaching into her eyes.

At this Michael smiled too, fleetingly and without humor. "Madeline, we have known each other for a very long time. You know my loyalty to the Section, I have proven it more times and in more ways than I care to remember."

Madeline nodded, no reply to this being necessary. Michael went on.

"I'm giving you this explanation because you need to understand me and be convinced of my absolute sincerity in this matter." He considered her for a moment. "Nikita is alive because of me. I can give you the specifics of how that happened if it matters. I want her to come back with me to the Section. I will continue to perform as required. Nikita will not be involved."

Madeline spoke to cover her surprise at this incredible statement. "You realize, of course, that you could be cancelled for keeping her alive. You should be cancelled for even coming up with such a preposterous request."

"It is not a request, Madeline." They both turned then at a sound behind them.

The door swung open slowly and Operations stood in the doorway, his face thunderous. "How dare you come in here and do this? How dare you?"

Michael looked at him without expression. "It's done. I'm sure you listened to my conversation with Madeline. You probably have some questions."

Operations gave an ugly and incredulous laugh. "Oh, indeed I do have questions. Like how can you think that we would allow something like this to go unpunished. I should make you cancel her yourself!"

Michael's green eyes turned cold and deadly at this and he enunciated each word slowy and clearly. "That will never be an option."

"You can't do this, I won't allow it," said Operations, crossing his arms. It was as if Madeline were not in the room as the two men stared at each other. They seemed surprised when she spoke.

"Michael." They glared a moment longer then looked at her. "There's something you aren't telling us, isn't there?"

Michael sat back in his chair, nodding his head. "Yes. There is a reason you will allow me to bring Nikita back."

Operations looked at him incredulously as comprehension spread over his face. "You took it. You've had it all along. Now you're using it to take over for yourself.'

"No," Michael said promptly. He sat forward to make his point. "I am not proposing a power shift or any change in the basic operation of the Section. My loyalty is unchanged. I will be the same operative I have always been. But I need Nikita." He sat back. "And you will allow it because you need me."

Operations stared at Michael, turning over options in his mind. Very quickly he recognized that they had gone beyond prevention in this situation and his thoughts shifted over to containment. "Very well. You have put us in an untenable situation." For now, he thought to himself. "What exactly do you wish to do?"

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

Nikita wandered around her apartment, feeling at loose ends. Today they were going in to meet with Madeline and Operations to discuss the details of the arrangement. It would be her first time in since leaving for the fateful Shay's mission.

The phone rang and Nikita found herself surprised to hear Michael's soft voice saying her own name instead of "Josephine". She felt vaguely let down. "I'll be there to pick you up in 15 minutes. Are you OK?"

"Of course," Nikita replied. "I'll see you when you get here."

Michael held Nikita's hand tightly as they walked down the hallway into the heart of the Section. Suddenly Nikita heard her name shouted in a gravelly voice and felt herself torn from Michael and spun into an unrestrained bear hug. Walter's face was split by an enormous grin. "How?" he asked in between additional squeezes and patting of her hair. "Sugar, I am so happy to see you in one piece! Where have you been?" With this Walter cast a look at Michael through narrowed eyes. There would be some explaining to be done at the earliest opportunity.

Explaining would have to wait, however, as others heard the commotion and began crowding around to greet Nikita and ask their own unanswered questions. Nikita searched the group for one face that was missing, finally spotting him sitting in his usual place with a stricken expression on his young face. He stood as Nikita approached his chair and hung his head, not wanting her to see his eyes. Nikita reached out and pulled Birkhoff into a close hug and heard him whisper, "I couldn't make him stop. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." "It's OK, Birkhoff", Nikita whispered back hugging him tightly. "I missed you too."

Operations approached then, parting the crowd like the Red Sea and Birkhoff quickly turned away, snuffling a bit. "Well," said Operations sarcastically. "Isn't this touching…the return of the prodigal." His mocking smile disappeared. "You..and you", he said pointing at Michael and Nikita. Madeline's office. Now."

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

In a familiar scenario, Michael and Nikita were seated in Madeline's office while Operations paced and Madeline observed it all from her desk. Operations finally stood and addressed them with his arms folded. "So, what are you envisioning. Nikita keeping dinner warm at home until Michael gets back from chasing bad guys?"

They gave him no response so he went on. "This won't work. It can't. Michael's loyalty cannot be divided. You," he said, looking at Nikita, "will be his Achilles tendon. Anybody who grabs you will have control over Michael. With as much as he knows, how can you think to expose us like that?"

These were good points, but they were not here to argue. All Nikita said was "You don't have much faith in Michael, then, do you?"

"I have lots of faith in Michael", he snapped back. "You are the problem. As always."

Finally Michael spoke, looking directly at Operations. "Your feelings about Nikita are irrelevant to this issue. Your supposition about how we will live is also irrelevant. The only thing that concerns you is that I will continue to be available and will continue to perform. Everything else is my concern and I will handle it."

He went on, glancing from time to time at Madeline. "You will agree not to have surveillance on us at home. I will agree not to discuss with Nikita any aspect of Section activities. We will socialize with Section personnel only; no one from the outside." He paused to give them both a piercing look. "You will understand that Nikita is now an important requirement in my life. If I ever think that you are involved in…removing her, then you will have to plan to cancel me also, because the consequences of leaving me alive will be unacceptable to you."

Operations snorted in disgust and stood silently. Madeline rose from her chair and smiled briefly. "All right, you have a deal. Since you insist, we will try this under your conditions. If it doesn't work out, you yourself just specified what we will have to do."

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

Nikita leaned into the refrigerator, groping for another Coke that remained stubbornly in hiding. Birkhoff and his sugar. She smiled to herself. The kid was going to make himself a diabetic before he was even old enough to drink legally.

"That's OK, Nikita, never mind. I think I can make it home", Birkhoff stuck his head over the top of the refrigerator door. "We have to get going anyway. Busy day tomorrow." He looked slightly uncomfortable, as if not being able to say anything specific to Nikita about Section activities was somehow not right.

Nikita smiled back at him and couldn't resist teasing a little. "Walter's driving right? I lost track of how much sugar you've had tonight!" Glancing into the living room at Walter and Michael deep in conversation, Nikita's face became serious and she hooked an arm around Birkhoff's neck to pull their heads together. "Birkhoff I need to ask you something." She looked him in the eyes intently from a distance so close they could hardly focus on each other. "I want you to promise me that if Michael ever gets into serious trouble in the field you will let me know. Will you do that for me? Please?" She moved back a little then but kept her hand on his shoulder. "I can deal with the fact that what he does puts him at risk; I understand too well what goes with this job. I just need to know that you'll contact me if anything ever goes really wrong."

Birkhoff nodded then. "Sure Nikita." He avoided her eyes. "I can do that."

"Thanks Seymour", Nikita teased again. Walter and Michael had ended their discussion and coats were being collected for departure. With hugs and handshakes Walter and Birkhoff went out into the night. Michael closed the door and leaned against it looking curiously at Nikita. "What was all that about with Birkhoff?, he asked.

"Nothing. Just…talking", Nikita replied too innocently. She was not always a good liar and knew it, but she was very good at distraction. She pulled Michael by the hand into the living room, pushed him down onto the sofa and draped herself over him from head to foot. "You've never been a good liar", he whispered into her mouth. "Don't ever think you can fool me....about anything."

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

Nikita snapped off the laptop computer, threw down the pencil from behind her ear and stretched hugely. The software company she was working for wanted this program by the end of the week; she'd have to spend some more time on it tonight.

She rose and looked out into the dark city below. There'd be plenty of time for work tonight. Michael was gone again. She never knew where, or when he'd return. Sometimes he came back whole, but sometimes he did not, and Nikita had to exert iron self-discipline to remember that this was the price they had to pay in order to be together.

The phone rang and Nikita looked at it curiously. Must be Madeline looking for a recipe, she laughed to herself, then snorted out loud. Right. She picked up the phone.

"Nikita!" the strained whisper was barely recognizable as Birkhoff's voice. "There's a problem. You said to call."

Nikita's heart pounded and her mouth was dry, but she instantly slammed a lid on her emotional reaction and snapped at Birkhoff. 'What? Tell me."

She heard a shaky breath drawn on the other end. "Red Cell. Michael was doing a hit and somebody in the outer perimeter screwed up. They got in behind him. Picked him up about 4 hours ago. And….Operations isn't sending anyone in after him."

"Unlock the door, Birkhoff, I'm coming in." Nikita threw down the phone and began to move purposefully around the apartment, changing clothes and collecting items into a small duffel bag.

"Well?"

Birkhoff looked up at Operations. "She's on her way, sir."

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

Nikita strode into Section looking like the devil's mistress. Dressed from head to toe in black and her brow furrowed in concentration she looked up and locked eyes with Operations. He watched expressionless as she stopped and stared up at him defiantly. Then, with a gesture, he summoned her.

"You want to go after Michael," he said. All eyes around the table were fixed on Nikita as she replied with one word.

"Yes."

Operations pretended to consider for a moment. His decision, of course, was already made. "I can't have you straddling the fence like this, Nikita." He looked at her with a raised eyebrow and a vague expression of triumph. "If you want in then you have to be *in*…all the way and for good."

"And if I don't go…?" She asked this already knowing the answer.

"I'm not wasting valuable operatives to retrieve another fence-sitter", Operations snapped. "Michael will be on his own."

Nikita looked down to conceal her anger. This was a waste of time. God knew what they were doing to Michael at this moment. She raised her eyes then stood and kicked back her chair. "Of course I'm in," she hissed at him. "Now give me the intel and tell me what resources I have to work with. Time is wasting."

"See Birkhoff for intel. Walter will go with you." Operations paused. "No backup."

"Right." Nikita headed for the door and was surprised with Operations spoke her name again.

He was looking at her strangely. "I hope you can get him out."

"Look at it this way," Nikita sneered over her shoulder as she continued walking. "If I don't they'll kill us both and save you all that trouble."

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

Michael slumped in the corner of the small cell. Poured concrete made up the floor and walls of his prison and breathed its cold, dank breath into the fetid air. The ache that lived in every part of his body leaped into fiery agony with any move he made. He stayed very still and tried not to think about the events of the last few hours. They hadn't even asked him any questions.

Through the red haze in his mind he heard approaching footsteps and tried to marshall his remaining resources, expecting either to finally be interrogated or to simply be killed. The barred metal door swung open with a drawn out screech and Michael felt a rough kick delivered to his ribs as the visitor ordered him to get up and walk. As he struggled to his feet Michael put all his concentration into distancing his mind from the wracking pain in his body. He put himself into Nikita's arms, picturing in his mind's eye the glow of her face as she looked at him, remembering the exquisite pleasure of their joining, and feeling the ease in his heart that came from knowing he was no longer alone. Dreamlike, Michael stumbled forward in front of his captor, seeing only the visions in his head. Hands on his shoulders turned him and he smiled to himself, seeing Nikita's face before him, knowing it could not be true but glad just the same.

"Oh no", Nikita muttered into her com set as she stared at Michael's uncomprehending face. "Walter I'm going to need some help getting him out of here, they've all but killed him. Bring a line to the top of the ventilation shaft. I'll meet you there and we'll have to do this together; he can't get there under his own power."

Nikita barely registered the affirmative response in her ear as she struggled to help Michael turn back the way he had come and avoid falling over the body of the jailor she had killed. Beyond the cell door Nikita stopped and propped Michael against the wall, where he promptly slid to the floor in a heap.

Squatting on her heels Nikita lifted his chin and examined his face. His eyes were open but Nikita realized he was not seeing anything before him. She held his face and spoke urgently, "Michael. Michael, it's me. I'm here with you. Please look at me." He smiled and whispered "Nikita", before falling silent once more. She tried again. "Michael, Walter and I have come to get you out of here. But you have to help me. Please Michael, you have to focus for just a few minutes. I want to take you home." Michael lifted his eyes to Nikita's face but said nothing. A few moments later he gathered his legs under himself and began to push his way up the wall. Nikita moved in under his arm to help. "We can do this Michael," she whispered to him. "I'll help you and we'll do this together."

A furtive noise around the corner drew Nikita's attention and she instantly placed herself as a barrier in front of Michael, drawing her gun. A moment later she sagged in relief as she heard Walter whisper, "It's me, Sugar. Let's get out of here."

Together, and with painful and limited cooperation from Michael, they fixed him to the line and all three went silently down the airshaft to the safety of the waiting van.

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

Nikita sat slouched in the chair next to Michael's bed, her mind quiet and calm in the aftermath of Michael's retrieval and the subsequent amazed debriefing by Operations and Madeline. "They were manned for a large assault," Nikita had tried to explain. "I was the mouse that slipped in unnoticed through a crack in the floorboards." Actually it had been fortuitous timing that brought her in when the guard was taking Michael from his cell. She hadn't had to risk the noise of blowing the door. If Walter hadn't been with her to back up her story, Operations probably would have suspected her to be telling lies to cover her secret membership in Red Cell. Before losing consciousness Michael had been able to confirm that, despite the wrenching torture inflicted upon him, they had not yet begun any interrogation.

At this, Operations walked in through the door and stood looking at Michael. "You know how he hates it here," he commented without looking at Nikita. "As soon as the doctors say it's feasible you may take him home to recover. He'll be out of commission for a while."

Surprisingly, he then walked over to the chair next to Nikita and sat down, crossing his legs comfortably. "You know, Nikita, I must admit you have surprised me…something that is not easily done. It would have been regrettable to lose Michael and I am pleased that you were able to handle his retrieval."

She looked at him with a jaundiced eye. "Right. You knew I would come in for him. Now you have us both back again, under your thumb, right where you want us. But it's a little different, now, isn't it?" She raised her chin defiantly at this last and crossed her arms.

Operations gave her a look then that was almost civil. "Don't you get it yet?" Nikita said, speaking softly so as not to disturb Michael, "You fight against the loyalty of individuals to each other, but that is what the Section *is* - the indivuals that make it up. Our loyalty to each other isn't a weakness, it's what makes us stronger and better than the bad guys." She raised an eyebrow at him and pursed her lips. "I'm sure if you ever *believe* that you'll figure out some way to make use of it," she finished sarcastically.

Operations stood and went to the door. He gave a short laugh and said "Welcome back, Nikita," then disappeared through the doorway.

Michael opened his eyes. They were clear and aware and Nikita knew that he had heard the entire exchange between her and Operations. "Are you back, then?" he asked her, deep sadness in his eyes. Nikita smiled lovingly at Michael and squeezed his hand. "Yes," she replied. "But it's all right." She nodded to herself and repeated softly, "It's all right."

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