The characters of LFN remain the property of WB, USA and Fireworks.

This story contains spoilers for the Season Four opening arc, especially Into The Looking glass, and is rated NC-17.

The lyrics of "Erase and Rewind" remain the property of "The Cardigans".

Hey, what did you hear me say?
you know the difference it makes
what did you hear me say?
Yes, I said it's fine before
but i don't think so no more

I've changed my mind
I take it back
Erase and rewind
cause I've been changing my mind
Erase and rewind
cause I've been changing my mind
I've changed my mind

So, where did you see me go?
It's not the right way, you know
where did you see me go?
No, it's not that I don't know
I just don't want it to grow
It's not that I don't know

I've changed my mind
I take it back
Erase and rewind
'cause I've been changing my mind
Erase and rewind.

Prologue

The dreams were vivid, causing her breathing to quicken, a faint sheen of perspiration shining across her skin.

Hello Nikita, I've been waiting for you. Nikita, there are children on the premises. I want some answers. I heard you, Michael ... twenty seconds. We want you to take care of it personally. You want me to kill Michael? I hope you made the most of whenever your last meeting with Michael was. They're watching us. When do you sleep? I don't care about you. The time has come to pay the price. I don't love you any more.

No!! Gasping for breath, hands clenching, then reaching out for ... what? Her breathing grew ragged, her eyelids fluttered as the images danced across the inside of them. Caught between sleep and wakefulness, her legs shifted in agitation; and encountered solid resistance. She felt a light touch down her cheek, her hair, on her shoulder, a warm grazing of her skin. Nikita opened her eyes slowly.

It was dark, she was feeling a bit too warm and...where the hell am I? She knew. The smooth chest beneath her hand, the muscular leg entwined with her own, the tender touch across the back of her shoulders. Michael. Memory came rushing back, as his arms encircled her back and pulled her flush against him.

Chapter One

Six hours earlier

"Haben Sie eine Telefone?" The foreign words sounded harsh on her tongue. Huddled in the front cab of the truck that had nearly run her down before she'd forced it to stop, her mind was racing. Run. Get to Section. The pain will stop. Michael will leave me alone and I won't have to need him agai...

She stopped there, confusion flooding her mind. I don't care about him. I didn't kill him because it wasn't my first priority. I have to inform Section of our position. Nikita gingerly touched her wrists, the flesh rubbed raw and broken from her struggles against the restraints. She closed her eyes, her whole body betraying an almost paralysing tension. Why hadn't she killed him??!

***

"Nikita, listen to me..." The pleading in Michael's tone had caused a strange sensation in her chest, a tightness in her stomach. Agonised disbelief had burned in his eyes as he watched her, watched the gun.

"Tie yourself up!" Her voice had rung out in the quiet of the almost empty room.

"Tie yourself up!" she had heard her voice demanding again. Nikita could hardly see the gun that she had been holding in her shaking hand, hot tears searing her eyes.

He had finally complied, all the while his eyes had silently implored her. Don't do this. Don't do this. She had waited while he slowly clamped a restraint around his left wrist. She had tried to ignore the tremors shaking her body as she stood over him, her thighs briefly brushing against his as she yanked the other handcuff into place.

"You're through the worst of it, Nikita". She had tried to ignore the soft words he spoke. Run. Get to Section.

Stepping back, she had raised the gun and ... couldn't pull the trigger. His eyes had never left hers, never once looked at the barrel of the gun that was pointed straight at his forehead. And she couldn't fucking do it.

She had gulped in deep lungfuls of air, her eyes agitatedly looking for a way out, the pain in her temples increasing by the second.

"I'm sorry", she had whispered. Michael's face had momentarily registered confusion at her words, before she struck him hard with the butt of the handgun. He had slumped to one side, a cold flutter coursing down her spine as she registered the blood oozing from the wound she'd caused. A stabbing pain had shot through her abdomen, bringing her back to the sharp reality of her enforced withdrawal. Half bent over, clutching her stomach, she had stumbled up the wooden stairs, forcing her gaze away from Michael's inert form. Run. Get back to Section.

***

The jerking of the truck wrenched her back from her thoughts. Barely grunting a thank you at the driver, she heaved the door open and leapt out, disregarding the burst of expletives from the driver whose car she had nearly hit with the door of the truck. Nikita stumbled across the road, the spasms of pain now shooting through her entire body. Her spine felt as though it had been fused together, and there was an acrid burning at the back of her throat that would not go away, no matter how many times she tried to swallow it down.

Telephone. Where? Her goal sighted, she forced her aching frame to move faster, go faster. Run. Get back to Section. She snatched up the receiver, punching in the number with an unsteady finger, leaning against the perspex frame of the telephone booth. Nikita grimaced in pain as another burning cramp travelled up through her gut. She was so cold, inside and out.

"Identify". An anonymous voice recited the standard phrase.

"Nikita. 31J7". She parroted the required intel into the receiver, barely registering the words that she spoke.

"Go ahead".

"Request permission for a secure line." In the distance, she could hear a motorcycle engine being gunned. Turning her head slightly, she caught a glimpse of the bike heading towards her, speeding along the shoulder of the road.

"Designator?" the flat tones inquired disinterestedly.

"Operations". She clutched at her lower abdomen, feeling as though her insides were on fire.

"Switching".

Nikita's stomach clenched as she pictured the Section Head, probably with Madeleine at his side, entering his office to take her call. Panic clawed at her throat. What is wrong with me? What did Michael do to me?! Uncertainty clouded her mind. Michael? Unbidden, Madeline's words came into her mind. The time has come to pay the price. The motorcycle had pulled up behind her. Nikita closed her eyes in exhaustion, and waited.

"Hang up, Nikita" Michael's voice gently sliced through the fog in her head like a hot knife. "In one more day, you won't need them".

"Nikita?" Operation's voice sounded loud and demanding in her ear. Nikita stood frozen, unable to speak. What is wrong with me? Answer!

"Nikita?" The voice in her ear was harsher and more urgent. "What is your location?"

Michael seemed to sense her hesitation.

"You have to decide for yourself". She heard his softly accented words just behind her ear and suddenly his hand was touching her shoulder, his fingers subtlety squeezing. Nikita's eyes half closed as a warmth spread over her skin from where his hand was lightly resting, the circular movement of his leather-clad thumb sending waves of heat down her spine and up the back of her neck. The tightness in her chest was dissipating, a truth that was buried deep down inside her struggling for life.

I've changed my mind.

I take it back.

Nikita slammed the receiver back into its cradle. Anger and blind frustration boiled over and spilled out. Gulping back her sobs, she slammed her fists against the telephone, not feeling the hard metal cutting into her cold hands. Oh God, it hurts. What have they done to me?!

"What have they done to me?" The tortured question burst from her lips. She felt Michael's hand grip her shoulder, gently pulling her towards him. No, don't touch me, I don't want ... God, I don't know what I want. I just want someone to take this pain away.

Michael was pulling her towards him, and she could feel the heat from his body as he moved her closer. Confusion clouded her thoughts, making her lash out at him.

"What have they done to me?!" she demanded of him, wrenching sobs shaking her body, slamming her hands down against his chest, avoiding his hands as they tried in vain to capture her wrists. "What have they done to me?!" The whispered words were almost lost in the wind. Nikita felt Michael's hands sliding up to her shoulders, forcing her against his hard torso. The anger seeped out of her, leaving only a feeling of violation and despair.

"It hurts ... it hurts". Nikita moaned the words against Michael's shoulder, as his gloved hand gently cupped the back of her head, holding her tightly. He kept holding her as she cried into him, her hands clutching at his jacket in mute appeal.

Please help me. Help me.

Chapter Two

Nikita fought to keep her eyes open during the ride back to the cabin. She was exhausted, emotionally spent. The tumultuous emotion churning in her brain, combined with the hard warmth of Michael's back against her breasts, was a heady mix. I'm so tired. And why does he have to smell so good? She stared at the back of Michael's head, studying the curls spilling over the collar of his jacket. When did his hair get so long again? He almost looks as he did when I first met him. She bit her lip, not wanting to head down that particular Memory Lane at this point. Her head was still pounding and she was grateful that Michael did not attempt to speak with her during the journey. With the cabin in sight, she gave up the fight to keep her eyes open. She was not awake to notice Michael slow the speed of the motorcycle, controlling it with one hand as he put a protective arm behind him to hold her safe.

***

Images flashing. Vivid color blurring her vision.

I don't care about you. Yes, you do ... you just need to remember.

Why didn't you let me help you?

It can't be casual between you and me, I can't do that.

Why shouldn't I just kill you ... right now?

I missed you.

Have I ever told you that I loved you?

I've hurt you enough already.

I wish things could be different.

Am I under orders to please you?

It's not over. We will be together.

Eyes flew open. Darkness. A faint humming noise.Ah, she thought, back in the weird looking thingy. Nikita brought her hands up to rub her arms, noticing that her shirt had been changed. She recognised what she was wearing as one of Michael's shirts. Even though it was clean, she imagined she could smell his scent on the collar. Michael. Where was he? She was definitely alone in here. Where did he get this contraption from, anyway? Kinky-Toys-R-Us?

She lay there for a moment with closed eyes. Her head throbbed dully, but nothing like the previous pain that had seared her temples. She felt...different. No, scratch that. She felt the same. Not the same as two days ago, but the same as normal. Normal. Okay, that could be stretching it, but ... hmmmm. She shook her head slightly, as though trying to clear her thoughts. Ouch, bad move. I haven't felt like this since that frozen margarita hangover last Christmas. Quite a similar feeling actually.

She heard footsteps coming into the main room and quickly feigned sleep. Coward! Her stomach was knotted with nerves. She knew that she had been dreaming about him, the vivid images of him flying through her mind. Faint wisps of her dreams remained ... she mostly remembered his eyes. Those beautiful green eyes boring into hers, no longer cold and shuttered, but alive with love and desire. Her eyelids grew heavy, the tiredness enveloping her once more...

Chapter Three

Hands sliding, massaging, pressing gently into tired muscles. Hmmmmmm. The hands receded. Nikita arched her neck, trying to find the source of that delicious touch. She felt cold suddenly, bereft for some reason. She slowly opened her eyes. They felt as though they were red, puffy from the angry tears she'd finally let out a few hours earlier. Where was Michael? Had he been touching her, or had she dreamed that as well?

She twisted her head around on the thin pillow. Shit. He was sitting back on his heels right behind her. Her eyes met his. Nikita felt as though she might melt from the heat conveyed in that look. He was watching her with such trepidation, such longing. A myriad of emotions spilled over her ­the love she had felt for this man for so long slammed into her chest, making her breathless with the wonder of it. How could I have looked at him all these weeks and not loved him? As she watched, the tension seemed to leave his face, his brow was not quite so furrowed. A frisson of awareness crackled into life between them as his eyes never left hers, a sudden charging of the atmosphere that had her stomach filling with butterflies.

She cleared her throat, suddenly shy with him.

"I slept". Oh, excellent start. Nothing like stating the bloody obvious to get an awkward conversation rolling.

"Yes, a little". God. Only three words and the sound of his voice was sending shivers down her back.

"There's still pain". Even as she said the words, the tears were thick in her throat. She was never much of a self-pitying kind of girl, but she felt so odd. Miserable and yet ... more like herself than she had for a long time. Nikita rubbed a hand across her face, hoping to hide her tears from Michael. Looking up, their eyes met once more. His expression was so tender as he looked at her that she struggled to keep the tears in check.

"It'll go away". His hands were back, massaging her temples, long fingers darting to caress her face.

"When?" She lost her fight against the hot tears that now welled up in her eyes. Suddenly, it didn't matter if he saw her cry. He'd seen a lot worse from her over the last twenty-four hours.

"When you let it go, Nikita". The pressure of his hands on her scalp and temples, long fingers gently stroking her jaw and neck, his soft voice ... it was all too much. A choking sob came up from deep inside her, intense waves of love and shame crashing over her. My God...how can he still care? I tried to kill him! Michael...

"Michael ... I love you." The soft declaration was out of her mouth before she'd even thought to say it. She cringed inwardly, embarrassed at the pleading tone in her voice. He doesn't love me, how could he? Look what I've become. A murderer of innocents.

Nikita held her breath, waiting for the rejection that she was certain was to follow. She was startled to suddenly feel his head next to hers, his lips warm on the skin of her face, near the corner of her mouth. She could feel the coiled tension in his arms as he leaned over her, hands sliding over her hips to skim her stomach, tentatively venturing underneath her shirt. A flush started at the back of her neck and travelled across her chest and arms, causing the fine hairs on her arms to stand on end. Michael's stubble rasped against her jaw, instantly causing her nipples to tighten in response. Suddenly he was kissing her face, her jaw, her neck, small biting kisses that she felt down to her toes. His tongue was warm against her skin, his hands exploring her ribcage. She reached up and back for him, her fingertips finding his forearms, sliding slowly up to his shoulders. Her movements slowed as she met the bandage on his right bicep ­ the hard muscle quivering under her touch.

I could have lost him. I could have killed him. We would have both died, only mine would have been a living death. The same living death that he has just delivered me from. How can he still love me?

Shame tightened Nikita's chest, making her want to look away. He would not let her, his own eyes seeming to glitter with unshed tears. She searched his eyes, seeking recriminations and blame. She saw none. Only forgiveness and something else, something darker that caused his eyes to soften, his gaze moving from hers to her mouth and back again. She watched him swallow hard, the action drawing attention to the smooth column of his neck. Nikita's eyes closed involuntarily as Michael leaned down and began trailing urgent, open-mouthed kisses on her face, her neck, her jaw. Her head was swimming with a kaleidoscope of emotions. She could not recall the last time she felt physical pleasure. The feeling of abandon that was slowly overtaking her was unexpected, but oh so familiar.

Michael's upper arm brushed against the side of her breast as his hands slid up under her shirt, his fingers gently tracing the outline of her ribs. A shiver skittered across her chest, puckering her nipples and goose-bumping the flesh of her breasts. She heard his sudden intake of breath as his hands stilled momentarily before sliding up to rest high on her ribcage.

Delicious frustration.

Agonised anticipation.

He was suddenly beside her, his hands swiftly moving to capture her aching breasts, his lips touching then persuading her mouth open, his tongue sliding through her lips effortlessly. Rough thumbs placed teasing pressure on her hard nipples. Her mouth opening up to him on a gasp, she reached up a hand to curl around his neck, wanting him even closer to her. His kiss was tender and demanding at the same time, his tongue sparring frantically with hers. Abruptly, his mouth was gone and she felt his hands come up on either side of her face. She gazed at him through half-lidded eyes, passion blurring her vision. Subtle pressure moved her closer to him and all rational thought fled from her mind as his mouth touched hers again, his lips and tongue seeking, asking, demanding. Her head fell back, eyes closing in sensual rapture. Dizzy. Either I've forgotten how good he is, or he's been doing some research these last couple of months. This is torture. She clutched blindly at him, only to have her wrists captured in a strong grip. Nikita flickered her eyes open at him, but was only met with an enigmatic Michael smile. Bastard.

Chapter Four

The feeble light provided by the small lamp in the corner of the room struggled to penetrate the black-mesh covering resonance chamber. Only hushed sighs and whispered desires broke the heavy silence.

In the half-light, Nikita was drowning in a sea of sensation. Michael was trailing hot kisses down her face and neck, nuzzling her jaw, before gently clamping her earlobe between his teeth. A low moan escaped her, her groin clenching as Michael's talented mouth moved down to her collarbone, his tongue tracing the outline of the bone. His long fingers pulled aside the neck of her shirt as he bit his way gently across to the other shoulder, his other hand dancing across her taut nipples, teasing them through the thin material of her shirt. He has no idea what thin ice he's on. She managed a final coherent thought: If he stops now, I might be able to pull that bloody trigger after all.

"Trust me". The whispered command in her ear was erotically demanding, his warm breath on her skin causing a chain reaction down her spine.

Nikita pulled her head back slightly, and found his eyes with hers. Their gaze held for several seconds, a silent question being asked and answered. It was hard to find her voice.

"I do". The words were little more than a sigh. Suddenly, she felt so vulnerable, so in love with this man that she looked away, looked down and focused on her hands gripping his tightly. She watched in fascination as his thumbs caressed her knuckles, his touch sending sparks up her arms. Michael bent his head to hers and caught her mouth with his, his lips burning where they touched, his teeth on her bottom lip.

Abruptly, the pressure from his lips was gone, his hands were under her back and she was suddenly lying on her stomach, warm hands stroking her neck and shoulder blades. Okay...this is different. Even as she turned her head to speak to him, Michael lowered himself onto her so that he was lying half on, half off her. The shock of feeling the length of his body along hers chased any coherent thought from her mind. She opened her mouth to speak, only to have it captured in a lush, burning kiss. Her tongue slipped between Michael's parted lips eagerly, eyes closing as she welcomed the almost violent contact. God, I want him so much. I can't remember ever needing him quite this way. Memory flashed. This desperate craving, this aching need to feel him inside her...she had felt this before. He always makes me want him, but this is different. This feels like...her mind sifted through a hundred erotic images, before awareness came flooding back.

A makeshift camp bed, rocking gently with the waves.

Violence, mixed with pure lust in those green eyes that burned into her.

His hands on her body, searing the flesh wherever they touched.

I thought I'd lost you.

Hot tears pricked her eyes, a wave of compassion and understanding sweeping over her. Oh my love, what you must have been through. You nearly lost me all over again.

A sound that was almost a whimper rose up from her chest as his mouth and hands were suddenly gone. Struggling to cool her fevered blood, Nikita took several deep breaths into her lungs, before registering that she could no longer feel Michael beside her. She twisted her body around, seeking him, before she felt his hands at the waist of her black pants. Lordy. She almost stopped breathing as his warm fingers hooked under the elastic and slid against her heated flesh. Breathe. Just keep breathing. No big deal. Oh...my...God. His hands had her trousers and underpants in their grip and were pulling them down her hips slowly, teasingly. This is taking way too long. She lifted her hips up, trying to hurry the process along, too impatient to feel him against her to bother playing hard to get. Through the blood pounding in her ears, she heard Michael utter a sharp, stifled groan. She smirked to herself, a sense of perverse satisfaction coming over her. Oh yeah, you're really Be Patient guy today, aren't you?

Her smug expression fled as she felt heated skin grazing hers as Michael knelt behind her, his thighs straddling hers. She could feel the tension beneath the hair-roughened muscles. Bare skin? Nikita's groin tightened, the heat rising in her core as she realised that Michael had shed his clothes at some point. She jumped as she felt his hands sliding up the backs of her legs, pausing briefly to caress the backs of her knees, teasing the sensitive skin with his short fingernails until her legs jerked against him, a reaction she could not control. Nikita felt his arousal against her thigh as she shifted beneath him and a flush stole over her face, spreading down to her chest. It had been so long since she'd been with him, with any man. These last few months ... her altered state, her adjusted self, had not been interested in sexual contact that involved any feeling other than power and control. To be lying here now, with this man whose soul had been aligned with hers before that connection had been abruptly severed, was overwhelming.

Michael's hands were stroking her legs, her back, his talented fingers dancing up the column of her spine, sending erotic vibrations out through her nerve-endings. He slid his hands down to cup her buttocks, pulling her back towards him. The sudden movement caused her to start slightly as she felt his erection pressing into her yielding flesh. The feeling of him hard against her made her head swim, wonderment creeping over her at the effect she had on him. She turned her head to look at him, unable to stop a smile of satisfied knowledge turning up the corner of her mouth as her eyes met his. Michael's eyes narrowed as he held her look, before closing as his arousal pulsed hotly against her skin. He leaned forward and slid his hands up her spine once more, pushing her shirt up and over her head in one swift movement.

Nikita only briefly registered the brush of cool air on her heated skin before she felt Michael's hard torso sliding up her body, his nipples subtly erect as they brushed against her skin. Her groin jumped, pulsing and growing more fevered as his mouth touched her neck, his teeth rasping against the muscles of her back as he kissed his way down her spine. Wanting to feel his body against hers, she pushed up on her elbows, gasping as his hard chest and stomach met the sensitive skin on her back, his erection pushing hard against her buttocks. He let his weight push down on her slightly as he slipped his hands beneath her to take possession of her aching breasts, the nipples pushing into his fingers as he touched them. Oh God, how can he be so in control? I'm not going to make it through 'long and slow' this time. I need him now.

Chapter Five

How can he be so in control? I'm not going to make it through 'long and slow' this time. I need him now.

Acting on blind instinct, Nikita flung her head back, turning frantically, seeking Michael's lips. She was instantly rewarded by the delicious sensation of his mouth covering hers, his tongue searching, demanding a response that she joyously returned. She felt his hips pushing forward against her, his hot arousal pressing achingly close to the heated core of her desire for him. As she instinctively pushed back, Michael's hands spanned her breasts almost roughly, twisting her erect nipples between his fingers. She felt dizzy with sensation, the feel of him against her, his hands hard on her breasts, the spicy smell of him filling her senses as she bit down on the smooth skin behind his ear. She licked along his jaw, drawing a guttural moan from him as he moved away slightly, resting his forehead on her shoulder, deep breaths shuddering from his lungs. Nikita shivered, goose-bumps scattering across her flesh and tightening her breasts as Michael rubbed his face against her, his beard scraping the tender arch of her neck.

His touch was so tender that tears came unbidden to Nikita's eyes. How long had it been since someone had touched her, let alone touched her with such gentleness, such ... love?

Long-forgotten emotions were raging within her, love and desire warring with the memory of the person that she had become over the last few months. The man lying with her, stroking her with an almost reverent touch, would have risked everything to bring her to this place. His status. His life. Everything. The magnitude of his actions stunned her into an awed state of shock. He loves me. Nikita's mind was a whirl of conflicting thoughts. He's never told me, but why couldn't I see that he did? Was I blind? Nikita closed her eyes tightly, a feeling of shame washing over her. How many more times would he have had to save my life before I believed him? She took a deep breath, drawing in courage.

"Michael, I love you". A passionate whisper that came from deep inside her, she knew she would never regret saying it. An intense need to have him know exactly how she felt had shot through her. Michael's eyes, glittering with unspoken emotion, met hers. A look held between them, his eyes traveling from her lips to her eyes, before slowing moving back to her lips. He groaned low in his chest and moved back down her body, hands dancing, his mouth leaving a hot trail down her spine. Nikita felt as though his hands were scorching her, leaving behind their mark as they moved down to her hips.

She bit her lip as those hands clutched at her hips, raising them up while one thigh nudged between hers, opening her up to him. She nearly cried out his name as he pulled her buttocks back against his hard arousal, his hands strong under her pelvis. Instinctively, Nikita raised her hips to meet him, straining to feel him against her where she wanted him the most. A gasp rushed passed her lips as she felt his hand between her legs, then all rational thought fled as Michael slipped one finger, then two into her. She closed her eyes as Michael's long fingers pressed against the inner walls of her aching sex, unable to stop a hot shiver shaking her body. Please Michael, I can't wait any more, I need you inside me.

Nikita felt his hands lifting her hips even higher and knew what he wanted ... what they both wanted. She reached down to guide him, anticipation making her hand unsteady. A silent sob clenched her chest as she felt his shaft touch her aching core, heat pooling instantly between her legs, her nipples tightening almost painfully. He slid inside her in one exquisitely swift motion, his shudder jerking his groin against her buttocks as he pushed himself deeper into her. Oh my god. Nikita's blood was on fire, roaring in her ears, her heart pounding as her body clenched lovingly around him. Michael stilled, but she did not hear a sound from him. Nikita turned her head to look over her shoulder, wanting to see his face.

He was behind her with his eyes closed tightly, his hands at her hips, his chest heaving with emotion.

"Michael?"

His eyes flew open at the sound of her voice. She caught his eyes with hers and raised a questioning eyebrow, an uncertain smile curling her mouth. Nikita was stunned to see those sea-green eyes suddenly filling with tears before he quickly blinked them away. Michael smiled at her, a slow curve of his lips that hinted at thousand erotic promises, before lowering his body onto hers. He stared a slow sensual circle with his hips, his slick shaft sliding in and out of her heated core. She felt his hot mouth on her neck, her shoulders, her back. Still he did not speak. Nikita was mesmerised by the erotic sound of his breath ragged and warm in her ear, which grew more laboured as she pushed back harder against him, his shaft slipping further into her aching sex. His hand slid between her thighs, cupping her, before easing two fingers between the flushed folds.

"God, Michael!" She gasped his name as he found her hardness, tormenting the erect bud without mercy. My god, I can't ... Her thoughts trailed away as she struggled to maintain some sort of control over her body, but to no avail. Every nerve-ending in her body was tingling, her breasts aching for his touch, the pressure building in her groin almost too much.

"Nikita..." His desire-roughened voice sent an erotic shock wave down her spine, her skin goose bumping, nipples tightening. Closer, I want you closer. Bucking against him, Nikita flung a desperate hand backwards, wanting, needing to touch him. She felt his hands sliding from her shoulders, down her arms, putting more of his weight on her. His hands reached down. Nikita threaded her hands through his, squeezing his fingers tightly, agonised anticipation swamping her. Nikita tilted her head back until it was touching his shoulder, her breath coming now in laboured bursts as he thrust into her swollen sex harder and faster. Michael shifted down her body slightly, his mouth tormenting her heated skin with sharp, biting kisses. Fine line between pleasure and pain Nikita thought hazily as his teeth nipped at her flesh, his tongue licking her skin as if to soothe any pain that his passion had caused her.

Michael's hands suddenly disentangled themselves from her grip and she felt them at her breasts, spanning them, cupping them hard. She could not control the spasm that jerked her body as he caressed her, rolling her aching nipples between his fingers, his lovemaking almost savage now as he pushed himself deeper inside her with every hard thrust. She could sense that his infamous self-control was at breaking point. She raised herself on her elbows and pushed back urgently against him, feeling his arousal jerk inside her, sending a hot rush of sensation surging through her. He was buried so deep inside her, and it still wasn't enough.

"Let it go, Nikita". The softly spoken command seared her heart, tears suddenly pricked her eyes. Yes...now...I can't make... Her thighs strained upwards, the tension building in her body, making her toes curl in welcome agony. Michael's mouth was on her neck, biting and sucking her tingling skin. Her painfully tight nipples were brushing against the sheet beneath her with Michael's every thrust, the feeling of the rough material on them so erotic she could hardly stand it. She felt his fingers slip into her aching sex, a single finger pressing mercilessly against her hardness, rubbing until heat flickered in her belly and spread through her whole body.

Nikita could barely breathe as her building release caught fire along her nerve-endings, the rush of blood humming through her veins. His thrusts were even harder now, the friction of his thick shaft hot and deep inside her, his hands roughly pulling her hips to slam against his groin as he took her over the edge.

There was a split second of anticipation, a fevered sense of waiting for the inevitable, before she cried out, her hands grabbing onto the mattress as the force of her orgasm hit her. Waves of pulsing heat moved through her body, her sex throbbing and tightening around Michael, still so hard and hot inside her. She was gasping for air, pushing back against him, wanting him deeper inside her. His hands tightened on the soft flesh of her hips as he thrust into her savagely twice more. She heard him cry out her name, then she felt him pulsing within her, the throes of his climax causing her to tighten around him a second time.

Strength having fled, Nikita lay on her stomach, a heated flush suffusing her body. She could feel the after-effects of her orgasm in every nerve-ending. Michael followed her down to the mattress, still buried inside her. His hands were shaking as they touched her, his face warm against hers. They lay entwined, their ragged breathing the only sound to break the silence between them.

Moments passed. Nikita felt as though she was floating in warm water, every inch of her body languid and sated. Michael shifted, her body finally releasing him as he moved to lie beside her. He stroked her hair with a gentle hand, his eyes never leaving hers.

"I've missed you ... so very much". The slight tremor in his voice told her more than anything else how vulnerable he was at this very moment, laying his heart open to her, trusting her not to reject him.

Shame washed over her, painful memories slamming into her. White paint on my hands.

White paint everywhere. It doesn't work. I don't love you any more.

A sob caught in Nikita's throat as she fought to stop the tears from spilling over. What have I done to him? Rejection, complete withdrawal, taunting him, throwing his gestures of love back in his face. Oh my god...

"Michael, I hurt you so mu..." His thumb on her lips stopped her words. Their eyes caught and held, Nikita watching as green eyes narrowed and grew hot as she bit at his thumb gently, lightly touching it with her tongue. His gaze moved to her mouth where her tongue was still teasing his thumb, sliding a hand to curl around the back of her neck, pulling her towards him. Nikita's eyes closed in sensuous delight, forgetting her painful thoughts as Michael's tongue traced her lower lip, taking the fullness between his teeth. Two can play at this game. Tilting her head, she took his mouth in an urgent kiss, sliding her tongue between his lips, her hands caressing his chest in teasing circles. She felt his moan, and inwardly smiled with satisfaction. Their lips parted slowly, his eyes locked onto hers. She swallowed hard, almost unable to comprehend the emotion burning in his gaze.

Michael trailed feather-light kisses from the corner of her mouth down to her jaw, brushing his stubbled cheek against her smooth one. Damn him, Nikita thought, closing her eyes as her body instantly reacted, her nipples hardening as her skin shivered with delight. His breath was warm in her ear as he bit her earlobe tenderly. She heard a slight intake of breath and turned slightly to meet his eyes.

A look passed between them.

Asking forgiveness.

Absolution given.

"It's all right. I understand". His gentle words pierced the fog of shame and regret in her heart. She slid her arms around his shoulders and held him tight.

Chapter Six

It was dark, and she was feeling a little bit too warm for comfort. Where the hell am I? She knew. Michael's chest rose and fell beneath her hand, the warm skin seeming to come alive at her touch. She shifted her legs, flushing slightly as Michael's hard thigh slipped further between her own. Michael's fingers were trailing across her shoulders and she realised that his touch had woken her, her body instantly responding to his caresses. Will I ever be able to get enough of him? Judging from the reaction of her treacherous body, she doubted it very much.

Nikita opened her eyes, trying to focus on her surroundings. They were still lying in the sonar chamber, but she had no idea how long they had been asleep. She knew that she had been dreaming again. The memory of Madeline's cool dark stare, her black suit standing out in sharp relief against the white of the room lingered in her mind, a cold shudder dancing down her spine. She shook her head slightly to clear her thoughts and turned her face towards him.

Michael. He was watching her. His eyes crinkled slightly as he reached for her, slipping his arm under her body and rolling back, so that they were both lying on their sides facing each other. He was warm and suddenly hard against her, his erection brushing her inner thigh as her nipples grazed his chest. A joyful chuckle bubbled up in her chest, reveling in the knowledge that she was the one who had this effect on him. She rubbed herself against his growing arousal, laughing as he buried his head in the crook of her neck in heated defeat. She had never felt this close to him after making love before. She found it ironic that it was only now, with the Sword of Damocles potentially hanging over their heads, that they had managed to sweep away the lies and the mistrust. She was afraid for them. Nikita wrapped her arms tighter around him as she felt a sigh leave him.

"We can't stay here". His accent always seemed thicker after sleep. Stirrings of desire twitched her nerve-endings at the sound of his voice, so close to her ear.

"I know". I feel so tired. So tired of fighting for my life, for my heart. Hot tears swelled behind her eyes.

"We have to be stronger than them". His voice grew stronger, as though willing the strength into her weary soul and bones.

She couldn't hold the tears back any longer.

"I'd rather die than go back now". She couldn't stop the words from rushing out. She was so weary of fighting them, of fighting to be together.

Michael's hand touched her face, his head moving back slightly so that he could study her.

"Don't say that!" The passion in his voice cut through her misery, his eyes a flash of green as they searched hers urgently.

"Why?" Please, Michael...please. Tell me why you did all this. I need to hear you say the words.

Their eyes locked, hers seeking an answer, his suddenly wary. She watched him, wondering what memories were flickering behind his eyes to cause such a look of pained reflection. Nikita held her breath as he slowly came back to her, his eyes glittering with such raw emotion that she almost had to look away. He reached up a gentle hand to stoke the side of her face.

"Because I can't live without you."

Joy and disbelief surged through her as his soft declaration rang in her ears. She searched his eyes. He was not lying. He could not live without her. Not the words I had in mind, but close enough. Definitely close enough. He was waiting for her reaction, his eyes roaming her face. He seemed...is he anxious? She briefly considered making him suffer, but as her gaze fell on his parted lips, she decided to take pity on him. Leaning forward, she pressed her mouth to his, her tongue sliding between his lips. She could taste her own tears as his lips moved over hers, his tongue slowly exploring her mouth. With a low groan, Michael wrapped his arms around her again, pulling her hard against him. Exhaustion washed over Nikita once more as she laid her head on Michael's shoulder. The spicy scent of him both calmed and aroused her. She was so tired, the sound of Michael's steady breathing soothed her jangled thoughts. Slipping into sleep, she smiled as she felt a deep sigh swell his chest, hazily clutching at a single thought. He can't live without me.

Epilogue

Dread clawing at her gut, Nikita stepped through the van access door to stand at Michael's shoulder, uncomfortably aware of the united front that they presented.

"Nikita, you were to remain at secondary quarters until further notice!" Operations' voice grated on her raw nerves but she forced herself to meet his eyes, letting any emotion drain from her face, and from her voice.

"Or until Faso's hit squad was caught", she reminded him in a flat monotone.

Nikita felt rather than saw Michael flinch at the sound of her voice. She was quite sure that outwardly he would not be betraying any signs of emotion. She stood aside as operatives brought the captured targets in, coming between herself and Operations. Madeline and Operations stood on one side of the corridor, she and Michael on the other. Nikita looked from Operations to Madeleine, her face blank. She never once glanced in Michael's direction.

Operations blinked once, perhaps twice.

"Good work. Take them to containment. There's a briefing in an hour. Both of you are in play."

Madeline had still not said a word. Nikita felt her dark eyes move from Michael to herself, and returned her gaze steadily.

I've changed my mind.

I take it back.

Michael strode away, not looking to see if Nikita was following. Nikita nodded quickly to Operations and hurried ­ without thinking ­ after Michael, catching herself mentally as she did so, forcing herself to slow to a nonchalant pace.I have to fight against every instinct I have when it comes to Michael. Don't follow him. They're watching you. Despair filled her mind.

I can't do this. Madeline...I will not be able to fool her. Michael's voice came back to her. We have to be stronger than them. She squared her shoulders and prepared to debrief.

With Madeline.

***

"Come in, Nikita. Sit down." Madeline's voice was light, as though they were two friends exchanging pleasantries over afternoon tea.

"We know you were with Michael." The words hung in the air between the two women. "Tell me what happened."

"He kidnapped me." Their eyes met, held.

"Why?" Madeline's eyes were totally unreadable. Sick tension churned in Nikita's stomach, but she forced it down.

"Tried to turn me." Nikita was amazed to hear the composure in her voice. So far, no lies. No problem.

"And?" It seemed such a harmless query, but Nikita knew better. She smiled slightly at Madeline, fighting to keep her rage under control.

"It didn't work."

Madeline's eyes never left hers.

"You have no feelings for him?"

Nikita's calm and open gaze belied her thoughts. You took the best part of me away, tried to take away the very thing that made me different to you. Why? Did you hate me being with Michael that much? Were you jealous of what we had? She smiled slightly at Madeline, a feminine conspiratorial smile.

"He thinks I do." Nikita was surprised to hear that her voice carried just the right amount of disdain for the man they were discussing.

"You lied?" Madeline's voice held a faint note of disbelief.

"Lying about my emotions was the only way I could convince Michael to return to Section."

Madeline eyes burned into Nikita's. Her expression was inscrutable.

"Thank you, Nikita."

Nikita had the strange sense of being dismissed from the principal's office. She rose to leave, but something in Madeline's 'thank you' angered her more than anything else that had been said. She inclined her head towards the older woman.

"I did this for Section. Not for you." Nikita kept her expression blank, trying to keep her voice low and devoid of any emotion. She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth.

She saw it. A flicker of knowledge in Madeline's eyes. Nikita pushed a panicked flutter back down into her chest, keeping her facial expression bland as she nodded good-bye to the older woman. As she strode away from Madeline's office, she straightened her shoulders. The fear of being discovered left her in a rush as she saw Michael standing near Comm. She did not look directly at him, but she could feel the heat of his eyes on her.

We have to be stronger than them.

I've changed my mind.
I take it back.

She almost stalked across the main floor of Section, the blood pounding in her ears. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Michael walking through Section, his path quite clearly on a collision course with hers. To the casual observer, it was a chance meeting. But there were no casual observers within the walls of Section. And Michael did not leave things to chance.

Nikita did not, could not look at Michael as he fell into step beside her. Her renewed feelings for him were far too raw, too close to the surface. She could not maintain the facade that was necessary for their survival and still look into his eyes, the eyes that glittering with emotion, all of it for her. Not yet.

"Did you read the sim?" His voice sent a shiver through her body, the memory of their bodies entwined flashing behind her eyes.

"Twice". It was an effort to keep her voice devoid of feeling, when what she really wanted to do was push him up against the glass wall they were walking past and kiss him so hard that he could no longer stand.

"We leave in an hour." There was a faint undercurrent in his tone, almost a pleading note that Nikita found momentarily confusing. Comprehension dawned. He still can't let himself believe that he beat them, that I am here. That I am his.

They were approaching the door to Michael's office, and an urgent need to reassure him gripped her. How? She slowed her pace, crossing his path with great deliberation. Her eyes widened slightly when she realised that Michael was holding his hand out in a mute appeal, his body blocking the view of anyone in Section who might be watching them. Sending up a silent prayer of thanks, she brushed past him slowly, reaching down to touch his hand with hers. His skin was warm under her fingers and she had to fight the urge to slide her arms around him. They are watching us. Nikita slid her palm against his, lightly scratching with her nails as she trailed her hand down his. Her fingers caressed him, briefly tangling their fingers together before another step took him from her reach.

The tingling sensation in her hand slowly travelled up her arm, making her feel hot and restless. A brush of his hand and I'm completely useless. Nikita resolutely continued towards her Section quarters, a myriad of sensual pictures flashing through her mind. Her pulse quickened as she walked through Section, looking at no one. Outwardly, there was no change in the Nikita who left her temporary quarters against her will with Michael and the Nikita striding through Section. The ice-blue eyes gave no quarter, no warmth in her expression, her mind totally focused on the preparation for the up-coming mission. No feelings, no connection with anyone.

Inside, she was more alive than she'd ever felt before. Dangerously alive.

I've changed my mind.

I take it back.

END

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