Madeline walked into the conference room with her customary warm smile for those spaced around the table. "Are we ready to begin?" She glanced inquiringly at Operations, who returned her look with a sober nod. He faced the table and addressed the small group assembled there.

"We have heard again recently from our old friend Ivan Mijovich. He has managed to force consolidation of the factions in his country into two camps…his and one opposition group. Mijovich believes that the opposition group has formed a relationship with Legion, and intelligence on their weapons and activities would seem to bear that out." Operations began to pace as he continued speaking.

"Because the nature of this opposition goes beyond run-of-the-mill political intrigue, he has requested special assistance from us. Our government, in it's infinite wisdom, has seen fit to grant his request."

Michael spoke. "What kind of assistance is he looking for?"

"Personnel training, equipment, grounds and computer security, counter-surveillance…a little of everything." He paused and look at Michael. "He specifically requested you. And…." he paused again to shoot an unpleasant look at Nikita, "for reasons beyond my ability to comprehend…he wants Nikita." He then glanced at Walter with a nod. "And obviously Walter is the best person to help them deal with their equipment situation."

Nikita rolled her eyes in disgust, a belligerent expression on her face. "He can do without me."

Operations was quick to snap at her. "He asked for you, he'll get you. We've already been committed to this and we'll do our best to make the man happy." He looked at Madeline. "Are the transport arrangements complete?"

Madeline stood and walked around the table to place a packet in front of Michael, Nikita and Walter. "You'll need to travel by conventional means to avoid arousing suspicion. Here are the tickets and travel documents you'll need." She stopped and laid a hand on Walter's shoulder. "I've taken the liberty of doing some packing for all of you. This is an old-world dictatorial regime, very appearance oriented. He's planning formal dinners on at least two occasions which you'll attend as his guests - you'll need to dress for it."

Walter closed his eyes in misery at her last words. He sighed. "What's our cover?"

"Consultants." Madeline smiled down at him benignly. "You'll be consultants."

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

Michael waited, leaning against his desk with his hands pocketed. Nikita had followed him from the briefing and clearly needed to ventilate. He looked at her patiently as she fumed.

"This doesn't feel right, Michael." Nikita paced the width of the small room. "After what happened at his inaugural ball? No, there's no way he would specifically ask for me."

"You saved his life. I think that's a very good reason for him to want you there." Michael looked at her probingly, playing the devil's advocate and challenging her to support with reason what intuition was telling her.

"The man is slime and he knows that I know it," Nikita said between clenched teeth. She paused in her restless movements, looking out the window. "Look, Michael," she said, turning to look at him, "something about this whole deal seems wrong…I don't know how I know, but I just *do*."

Michael looked away from Nikita as he thought about her words and the conviction behind them. He had come to believe - a little - in Nikita's intuition. He nodded then, looking at her. "We'll go prepared."

A rap at the door drew their attention and Walter stepped into the room grinning expansively. "Michael, you want to go over the list of take-alongs now?"

Nikita laughed at his enthusiasm. "Walter you're like a little boy. Has it been that long since they let you out to play?"

"Hey, somebody has to go along and chaperone you two kids," Walter retorted, earning a narrow look from Michael.

Nikita walked toward the door, linking her arm companionably with his and giving his stubbled cheek a sweet kiss. "You two have fun with your toys. I'm going to bed."

Walter promptly did an about-face and headed out the door with her, nodding and saying approvingly, "You know, you're right. That's such a good idea. We all need our rest. Which side of the bed do you like?"

"*Alone*, Walter." Shaking her head and smiling Nikita disengaged her arm and pulled his ear affectionately. At the door, she turned and looked at Michael with a serious expression. "You'll think about what I said, right?"

"I will," he said briefly, then turned his attention to Walter and the lists he was laying before them on the desk.

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

The airport facility was barren and dirty. Armed guards lounged at intervals in the terminal and added to the general unwelcoming air. Nikita walked next to Walter, both of them trailing Michael and the lackey Mijovich had sent to collect them. She grimaced as she rubbed at the crick in her neck, a result of falling asleep on Michael's shoulder during the long flight.

At the end of the long dusty hall they finally exited and stood looking at a large black limousine idling at the curb. The door flew open and Mijovich strode toward them eagerly. Pausing for a brief handshake with Michael, he approached Nikita with arms held wide, kissing her on both cheeks and looking closely at her. "My dear Nikita," he exclaimed. "How lovely it is to see you again. I can't tell you how pleased I am that you have brought your expertise and your beautiful presence to my tortured country." Mijovich tucked Nikita's arm into his and walked back toward the car, leaving Michael and Walter to exchange a glance and follow along in their wake.

The ride to the presidential mansion was a study in third world contrasts. The scenery around them was blasted and drear. The few people they saw moved like automatons and seemed to take no notice of the luxurious vehicle speeding by. Mijovich himself expounded at length on the great plans he had for the creation of economic abundance for his people, but the words had a hollow ring when uttered in the face of such devastation and loss as they saw beyond the windows.

Nikita was relieved when they finally reached their destination. The presidential mansion was, predictably, surrounded by walls, wires, guards and gates. A veritable gauntlet of saluting uniforms saw them to the main portal of the house where they exited the car, Mijovich once again taking possession of Nikita's arm.

Settling them in a large library, Mijovich sent for wine and abruptly switched gears. "I'm pleased that you were able to come to my assistance," he said formally. He looked at them seriously. "My opposition has been well-supported by Legion, and without your help…" He spread his hands.

Michael sipped his wine, then set the glass down before him. "We came to help you learn to help yourselves. I assume you have people chosen to meet with us in the areas that need work." He stood up. "We'd like meet with them first thing in the morning, start getting organized." He looked then at Mijovich, his face smooth and expressionless. "Perhaps you could have someone show us to our rooms."

Mijovich's answering smile was forced. "Of course, Michael. You've all had a long day. I didn't mean to be discourteous."

Walking to the doors he pulled them wide and spoke briefly with the domestic who stood just outside, then turned to address them again. "My man will show you to your rooms now. I hope you have a pleasant night." As they filed past he lifted Nikita's hand and kissed the knuckles, smiling into her face.

In silence they followed Mijovich's domestic down the winding halls, dropping Walter first, then continuing down yet another hall to Nikita's room. As she stepped through the door she felt Michael's hand on her arm and turned questioningly. With their guide waiting stoically behind him, Michael looked at her strangely for a moment, then spoke softly. "Sleep well." *************

Nikita heard a soft knock at her door, followed by Michael's voice whispering, "It's me." She quickly opened the door and drew him in, taking a quick glance up and down the hall before easing the door shut.

"Is everything all right?" she asked, worriedly.

"Yes, I just missed you," Michael returned. Nikita looked at him with eyebrows raised in amazement. He prowled the room, checking wall plugs and looking under table surfaces. Finally he beckoned silently to Nikita and pointed to a tiny electronic device attached to the lamp cord just where it went over the table edge.

"Finally, we have a chance to be alone," Michael said in an impassioned voice. He picked up a pad of paper and pen from the desktop. We're bugged, he wrote.

"Oh, Michael," Nikita responded in a similar tone, rolling her eyes. "I've missed you so." She plucked the pen from Michael's hand. Do we need to talk?

Michael took the pen back. "I know we shouldn't meet like this, but I just couldn't stand the way Mijovich was looking at you." Walter will meet us. Back entrance. 1/2 hour. Legion here.

"You never have reason to be jealous, you know you're the only man for me." Nikita closed her eyes and clasped her hands to her chest theatrically, stifling a smile. A knock sounded suddenly and sharply at the door.

Reacting quickly, Michael tossed Nikita onto the bed and rolled onto her, burying his hands in her hair and kissing her. Understanding instantly, Nikita wound her arms tightly around Michael's neck just as the door opened. "I'm terribly sorry," came Mijovich's voice. They turned to look at him, pretending great embarrassment. "I only thought to make sure you were comfortable for the night." He smiled. "I see that you are." He inclined his head then and backed out, closing the door behind him.

Michael rested his forehead against Nikita's for a moment in relief, then raised his head to speak, his voice barely audible. "The man who showed us to our rooms is a Legion operative. You were right. This is a setup of some kind."

Nikita drew a breath to speak, but Michael placed his finger on her lips to silence her. "We're going to meet Walter at the back entrance in 30 minutes. We're getting out. We're too far outnumbered to do this alone."

Nikita nodded but said nothing. Her face was so close to his they were breathing each other's breath. His weight on her was warm and sweet. Nikita's arms were still around Michael's neck, and as they looked at each other silently she gently worked her fingers into his hair, savoring its warm, silky texture. Wordlessly she brought her palms down to the sides of his face, stroking the rough texture found there at the end of the day.

"Stay close to me when we go." He spoke in the same subdued whisper, not looking away from her face.

Nikita looked back at him calmly. "I'll be right there with you," she said softly. In a suspended moment they stared into each other's eyes, both hearing the double meaning of the exchange. The slightest movement was all it took for their lips to meet softly then, a whisper of a touch, but meaningful for being freely given.

The door handle rattled and turned again, startling them. Dark forms filed into the room. Nikita closed her eyes. "Sometimes I hate it when I'm right," she whispered. ************

In the next moment Nikita's eyes snapped open as Michael was torn roughly from the bed. She felt cold and exposed without his warmth next to her.

"I'm genuinely sorry to have interrupted your long-awaited night of romance." Mijovich's voice was saccharine in its sincerity. "However, business before pleasure…as they say."

A viselike hand gripped Nikita's arm and hoisted her up to a standing position next to Michael. "What do you want, Mijovich," she sneered at him.

He rubbed his chin and mockingly pretended to consider an answer to her question. "I want a great many things, my dear," he finally said, smiling ironically at her. "But right now, I want Michael here to help cement a new relationship with my Legion associates."

He cocked his head to one side and regarded them brightly, then folded his arms and went on. "I should explain, shouldn't I? You see, I have persuaded Legion that it would be in their best interests to back me - the winning horse, you might say - and we have reached a mutually agreeable price for that transference of loyalty." He paused then as the door opened and a message was whispered to the unifomed guard standing there. The guard looked over at Mijovich and shook his head. Mijovich frowned, then cleared his face and went on speaking.

"Where was I…ah yes. Although I have the backing of your eminently capable personnel at Section One, I had two very good reasons for deciding to approach Legion. The most important reason is, of course, that it deprives my opposition of their support. But also, I find Legion's goals to be more….compatible… with mine." He raised his hands in mock apology. "I'm sure you understand."

Nikita glanced at Michael, standing silent and expressionless in the grip of two of Mijovich's armed men. "We're the price, aren't we?" she hissed at Mijovich, her eyes blazing. "You got us to come here so you could turn us over to them."

Mijovich looked affronted at this. "Oh no, my dear Nikita! I would never turn *you* over to Legion's tender attentions. I owe you my life more than once, after all." He gestured to Michael. "He, however, will be a more than adequate price for Legion. With all he knows about Section One, they simply can't wait to get their hands on him."

"Section will hunt you down for this," Nikita said, her voice low and harsh.

"No, no…I don't think so," Mijovich said, shaking his head and smiling. "It will all be out of my control: Legion attacked, there were casualties, great property destruction, etc. You will be dead as far as Section One knows, but I won't be held responsible."

Michael finally spoke, his voice calm and deadly. "What about Nikita?"

"She will be utterly safe here with me, I assure you," Mijovich responded gallantly. "I have long admired her many…attributes…and it's my opinion that in the right circumstances she will be a most delightful companion." He smiled around at his men, as though sharing a private joke. "Surely it will be more rewarding for her than waiting for the odd moment now and then with you!" He laughed at his own attempted humor.

He rubbed his hands together. "Well, I believe that covers the explanation part of our program. Now it's time to move along to the separation part."

"No!" Nikita cried. She lunged free of the man holding her arm and threw herself against Michael, holding onto him tightly. "Michael…," she whispered against his neck.

"Please…" she said, turning to Mijovich. "At least let us say goodbye." Her eyes glistened with tears. Mijovich studied her a moment then nodded. The two men at Michael's side released his arms and began moving toward the door.

Michael embraced Nikita tightly and stroked her hair, turning his back on the group across the room. "Michael, what are we going to do," Nikita whispered, trying to stay calm.

"They don't have Walter. Connect with him. I'll be fine."

"No, you won't. You know what they'll do to you," Nikita whispered back fiercely. She spoke more loudly then, uncaring of the listeners in the room. "I may never see you again."

Michael laid his face against hers, rubbing softly and also speaking audibly. "I'm sorry we didn't have more time together. I'm sorry I haven't told you how much….you mean to me."

"Kiss me now," he whispered all but silently into her ear. Nikita looked into his face, not able to tell what was real and what was an act for their captors' benefit. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him fiercely. Michael returned the kiss aggressively. Nikita felt his mouth open on hers and then became aware of something tiny and metallic on her tongue. Michael drew back from the kiss and held her to him tightly. "Swallow," he murmured in her ear.

Without thinking, Nikita swallowed. Michael reached down and gently licked her upper lip. "Walter's tracker, he'll find you" he murmured again.

"Well, this is very touching, but we really must get on with things now." Mijovich gestured to his men then turned to exit the room. Michael was again grasped roughly, torn from Nikita's arms and marched from the room. The door slammed after him and a lock was turned. Nikita sank down on the bed, her face buried in her hands. ************

After a few moments of despair Nikita shook herself mentally and began to review her available options. She could probably get herself out of this room, and she had a rough layout of the facility and grounds in her head. Then what? She rose and began to pace the room, trying to come up with a viable plan.

Against all her instincts, Nikita decided to sit tight at least for the present. If Walter was indeed tracking the tiny device she had swallowed, then it would do neither of them any good for him to chase a moving target. They would all be better off if she and Walter could connect and work together. Her decision made, Nikita then went through the room carefully, locating two more of the tiny bugs Michael had found and destroying them under her heel with a satisfying crunch.

This done, Nikita flopped down on the bed in the darkened room, forcing herself to the patience she knew Michael would want from her. Silent tears came and went as her mind, unbidden, conjured images of what might be happening to him at that moment. If something didn't start to go right, this could well be the end of a life Nikita had thought she despised. She knew now that it was not so. No matter how constricted her life, how morally compromising the work, or how inexplicable her relationship with the enigmatic Michael, life was sweet and she was not yet willing to give it up without a fight.

Some time later Nikita heard a tiny scratching. She held her breath as she crept from the bed and took a position behind the door. In near silence the latch released and she watched as the doorknob turned, slowly. The door began to open. Nikita laced her fingers together and raised her arms over her head, preparing to attack with a powerful downward blow.

The low light reflected dully off the grizzled gray head that crept into the room at knee level. A colorful bandanna appeared black in the gloom. Nikita lowered her hands and closed her eyes, sagging in relief. "Walter," she whispered, kneeling down to pull him into the room and wrap him in a grateful hug.

"You all right, Sugar?" Walter looked her over in concern, then around the room. "What's going on? I was tracking Michael…"

"No, you were tracking me," Nikita explained quickly, warmth curling inside her as she remember the circumstances of receiving the tracker. "Michael gave me the tracker just before Mijovich took him away." She sat back in despair and looked up at the ceiling, raking her hand through her tousled hair. "Walter, Mijovich has struck a deal with Legion. In exchange for Michael they've agreed to betray Mijovich's opposition and back him instead. He's set it up to look like Legion attacked and killed us all here. Section will never even come looking for us," she finished in a low voice.

Walter took this in silently, then stood and pulled Nikita to her feet, giving her shoulders a slight shake. "Don't you give up yet, Sugar. This old dog has been around a long time. I know a few tricks." He went to peer out the window at the darkened grounds below and Nikita noticed he was wearing a small backpack.

"Why doesn't Mijovich have you?" Nikita whispered, coming to stand next to Walter.

They watched as an armed guard appeared below, pausing to light a cigarette. The small glow brightened as he drew deeply on the cigarette, then adjusted his rifle and continued walking.

Walter spoke in a low voice. "Michael knew. We talked just before he came here. I packed up a few toys and got out right after he left." He grimaced. "Otherwise they would have me too."

Nikita leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes, concentrating intently. Then she straightened up and grabbed at Walter's pack. "Show me what you've got, here."

Walter emptied the pack onto the bed and they surveyed the small cache of arms and explosives, formulating their plan. Nikita grabbed a silenced automatic and tucked extra clips into the waist of her pants. The rest went back into the pack. "All right," she said calmly. "Mijovich has to tell us where Michael is. Let's hope the Legion creeps are still here looking for you and haven't left yet with Michael. If they have, we might never find him."

Walter gave her a quick buss on the cheek. "Good luck, Sugar." He melted into the shadows as Nikita relocked the door then began pounding on it and shouting hysterically for Mijovich.

Quick footsteps were soon heard in the hallway and two armed and uniformed men pushed in through the door. Nikita brought up her gun, shot the first man unhesitatingly through the forehead and instantly shifted her aim to the other man. "I want to see Mijovich," was all she said. After a brief glance down at his dead companion, the man dropped his gun and turned around. Nikita pushed him out into the hall and Walter slipped out behind them, heading down the hall in the other direction.

Nikita prodded her escort in the kidneys with the barrel of her gun. "Don't try to think," she hissed at him. The man nodded without looking at her and led the way down the stairs to the same large library where Mijovich had cordially served them wine just a short time ago. He knocked at the door, identifying himself as he did so.

The doors swung open and Nikita marched the man into the room, ignoring the half dozen men there and transferring her aim to Mijovich the instant she saw him. She crossed the room to press her gun against his temple. "Bring me Michael in the next three minutes or I will pull this trigger."

Mijovich appeared unconcerned and clucked at her admonishingly. "Tsk, tsk Nikita. Surely you know what would happen in this country if you were to kill me. Section One would never authorize that."

"Section isn't here, are they?" Nikita asked rhetorically. "It's just you and me, Mijovich, and I've never been very good at following instructions." She pushed the gun more firmly against his head. "You should trust me when I say that Michael's life is worth more to me than yours, no matter what Section may say."

Doubt crept into Mijovich's eyes at that and he looked closely at Nikita, clearly weighing the odds. "Two minutes, Mijovich." Nikita's voice was detached and cool, as if she were timing an egg rather than counting down a man's life. Mijovich decided. "All right. Have it your way." He nodded to the man nearest the door, who promptly departed. Silence descended on the room as they waited. Nikita's gun remained pressed unwaveringly into the skin of Mijovich's temple.

After several moments thumping footsteps and a crash were heard in the outside hall. The doors flew open and Michael fell headlong into the room, bruised and beaten, his hands fastened behind him. After them, the doors slammed shut with an ear-punishing crash. The soldier sent to fetch Michael stood looking down at him, smiling grimly as he watched Michael get up from the floor, awkward with his hands cuffed. Without blinking, Nikita turned her gun and shot the soldier straight through the heart. He fell without uttering a sound. Electric tension crackled in the room and all eyes were upon Nikita. Her words fell into the stillness.

"Release his hands."

The soldier nearest bent down to the fallen man and retrieved a set of keys, which he used to free Michael's hands. Michael promptly relieved the man of his gun and moved to the doorway. "Let's get out of here."

Nikita pulled harshly on Mijovich's collar, forcing him to rise from his chair and stumble forward ahead of her.

"No, Nikita. Mijovich has to stay here." No sooner had Michael uttered these words than the room was rocked by an explosive blast very nearby. Plaster fell from the ceiling and light fixtures crashed to the floor. Mijovich dove away behind a chair and shouted unintelligibly to his men. Guns were drawn.

Grabbing Nikita's arm, Michael ran for the doorway. Suddenly the double doors slammed open, rebounding on the walls. Walter stood in the doorway, spraying automatic gunfire like Rambo and smiling from ear to ear. The occupants of the room spun and dropped as they were hit. At last the shooting ended and a whining voice came to their numbed ears. "Stop, stop. Don't shoot. I'll surrender."

Mijovich rose tentatively from his hiding place behind the heavy desk. His hands were crossed on the back of his neck. Walter raised his weapon again, but Michael quickly pushed it down with a hand on the barrel. "No."

"Oh, come on, Michael….please let me kill him," Walter said in a cajoling tone.

Nikita walked forward, her pistol raised and steadied. "No, that's going to be my pleasure," she said viciously.

"No," Michael said again. He looked at both Nikita and Walter, shaking his head slightly. "Mijovich lives." Glancing at Mijovich, he finished, "For now."

Walter lowered his gun reluctantly. "Well if you want him alive you better get him and us out of here in the next couple minutes or we're all going to be a lot smaller." He smiled impishly. "I'm afraid this nice place here is about to sustain some serious property damage."

Shoving Mijovich along before them, they ran, sparing no thought for the remaining military and Legion personnel in the compound. As they drove away in Mijovich's own limousine, they looked back on the fiery blast behind them. Walter was true to his word. Serious property damage was indeed sustained.

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

"Hey Walter." Nikita sauntered into his cluttered work area, smiling sweetly. "Operations wants us." She looked around, fidgeting, while he put aside his project and got up to join her. "You know that tracker I…swallowed," she began.

Walter looked at her with a gleam in his eye.

Nikita raised one eyebrow at him and then continued. "What's going to happen with this thing?"

Putting a fatherly arm around her shoulders as they walked along, Walter said in a confiding tone, "Well, you see, Sugar. It's like this. The tracker started sending as soon as your stomach acid corroded the protective cover. And it'll be sending your location continuously until it's completely dissolved, about 36 hours or so from now, so…." He paused and gave her shoulders a squeeze. "I'll be watching," he finished with a wink and a leering expression on his face.

They arrived at the table with Nikita shaking her head and smiling in amusement. Taking her seat next to Michael she looked over at him a little shyly. There had been no chance to talk alone since they returned with Mijovich.

Michael returned her look with a soft glance of his own and a hint of a smile. Everyone's attention focused then as Operations came into the room, his face grim. Madeline followed closely behind him and gave Nikita's shoulder a friendly squeeze as she sat down on the other side of her. Operations' pale regard settled on each of them in turn as he spoke.

"Well, this has turned into an interesting situation for Mr. Mijovich. He has thoroughly burned his bridges with us by attempting to hand Michael over to Legion. He has alienated Legion by failing to complete the transaction. They now believe him to have planned something with us from the beginning."

Madeline spoke next. "Mr. Mijovich has answered a great many questions in the last few hours." No one had any doubt about the circumstances of Mijovich's questioning.

"He admits that he asked for our assistance with the intent of handing Michael over to Legion. In return, they would support him rather than his opposition. Walter was intended to be kept with Mijovich as long as he would cooperate. Nikita..." Here Madeline paused and glanced over at Nikita before continuing. "It seems you have made quite an impression on Mr. Mijovich. He claims he intended to keep you indefinitely." She smiled ironically. "He likes you."

"Or *did* like me," Nikita muttered.

Madeline smiled again in genuine amusement. "That's probably correct," she commented wryly, then looked at Operations, turning the discussion back over to him.

"Unfortunately, due to the world political game that must be played, we will be forced to continue some type of support of Mijovich's regime. The alternative - escalated regional conflict - would be less desirable for the greatest number." His face hardened. "Certainly, in the future, however, we will remember what happened here and act accordingly when dealing with him."

Looking then at the three of them he spoke his next words gruffly. "I'm pleased that this situation was resolved without serious problems. I wouldn't have wanted to lose any of you." With that he walked away.

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

Nikita left Walter burrowing happily back into his work area, grumbling aloud about 'field work' and clearly glad to be back behind the scenes and in one piece. She walked slowly down the hall then, looking forward to going home, and still processing the fact that Operations had included in her his final comments. Maybe there was hope yet, she mused.

Turning the key, she let herself in and sighed with relief to be home. The cat came running and wound itself sinuously around her ankles, meowing softly, looking for a treat. Without turning on lights Nikita poured a saucer of coffee cream for the cat and stood watching contentedly as he quickly lapped it up.

Nikita yawned and stretched as she walked into the living room, heading for the balcony. A small sound brought her up short and raised hairs on her neck as she tried to force her eyes to focus in the dark room. Stilled by surprise, she realized that Michael was draped over her couch, out cold. Studying him in the dim light she shook her head pityingly at the welts and bruises evident on his face. Likely the rest of him was in equally bad condition, especially if he was so exhausted as to sleep through her arrival home. She reached out her hand and lightly touched a swollen spot on his cheekbone.

He woke immediately, his eyes luminous in the half-light. Wincing a little, he sat upright slowly and looked around, not meeting her curious look. Nikita sat down beside him and waited quietly.

A few moments later, Michael reached over and picked up her hand, holding it palm up in his and gently stroking the individual fingers. The silence stretched between them. At last he spoke softly. "Why didn't you and Walter leave when you could?"

Not wanting to break the mood, Nikita replied in the same soft tone. "It was never an option. I wouldn't leave you behind. Neither would Walter."

He looked at her then, reaching to touch her face lightly. "If Legion had taken me from Mijovich's compound…I would probably have never been found." Nikita nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat.

Michael stood up painfully, facing away from her, his head bowed and eyes closed. After a moment he turned and pulled Nikita up from the couch into a close embrace, resting his chin on the top of her head and rubbing gently back and forth. They stood in silence.

Finally Nikita looked up at him. Her voice was low and strong. "I will always go back for you, Michael."

In the darkness he kissed her then, slowly and deeply, their awareness of anything but each other receding completely. After a long time Nikita felt his whispered reply against her lips, quiet as a dream. "And I for you."

****** FINI

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