"I love you," Nikita whispered.

It sounded so right. It had been easier to say than she thought it would be. The timing may not have been perfect but with Section, time was a fleeting concept and she couldn't wait any longer.

She had come to check on Michael in his apartment and found the place emptier than the last time she was there. There was no trace of the cello and the TV was nowhere to be seen. All reminders of Adam were gone. The emptiness of the place seemed to echo the loss he was facing and Nikita had been unable to stop herself.

She had taken a deep breath and uttered the words that were dancing on her lips nearly every time she saw him. She had wanted to shout them during her release their first night together in Lyon but had bitten his shoulder instead.

She had actually said them during the Armel mission. Knowingly using her cover to speak with her heart and enjoying the bittersweet pleasure that he would have to play along. And he had. He had said he loved her then. And even though she knew it was part of the mission profile, even though she could sense his reluctance, she had been comforted by it. She had come to the conclusion he would never say those words willingly, but for some absurd reason she had needed to hear them anyhow.

Right now, she wasn't sure what he would say. She had just wanted to get it off her chest. She silently turned her cerulean gaze to him and waited for an answer. Any kind of answer.

Michael's face tensed and his whole body went rigid for a moment. But he did not speak. He was facing her in the middle of the room, carefully studying her face. She seemed relieved, slightly hopeful, but more resigned than anything else. He looked away, inhaled deeply and simply asked: “Why?”

Nikita shuddered. She hadn't expected that. She was ready for "I'm sorry", "We can't be together", "Not yet", "Whatever", anything but that! *Why?* she thought. It's not that she hadn't studied the question thoroughly during lonely sleepless nights. It was just that she had never come up with a valid answer.

"I... I don't know," she muttered.

Michael quick intake of breath was the only sign of disappointment he showed. He wasn't surprised though. He didn't have a clue himself. He could understand that Nikita cared for him. She cared for any tormented soul. Only she could be moved by the pain of cold-blooded terrorists. Over the years he had seen her offer her sympathy to Madeline and even save Operations' life. Her heart was pouring her tenderness around, so no wonder he would be the recipient of some of it. But her love! He desperately hoped that she was fooling herself.

"Does it matter?", she carefully asked. She moved to stroke his face but the determination she saw there stopped her.

"It should," he insisted.

He clung to the hope that may be she was confusing her desire for him with a completely different emotion. Michael knew the difference. He was far more experienced than her after all and he had been in love before. He wasn't sure she had. Of course, there had been Gray Wellman. But she had been lying to him all along. She was comforted by him, attracted to him, but even in his worst moments of jealousy, he'd never truly believed she loved him. He, on the contrary had loved Simone. Even if the way he felt about Nikita, now put things into perspective. For he had never needed his wife like he needed her.

Nikita was desperately trying to come up with a satisfying answer. For both of them. She sighed in frustration:

"I never thought I would have to convince you, Michael. I thought it was plain to see!"

He took a step forward, nearly touching her, his pale green eyes locked with her blue ones. He registered the way her breathing seemed more labored as he laid his gaze upon her lips and stated the obvious: "You want me, Ni-ki-ta."

She nodded, already tilting her head to reach for his lips, so close, so inviting... As she was about to attain her goal, he whispered against her mouth "But that's all there is, desire not love."

Shocked, Nikita took a step away from him. She stared at him disbelieving.

"Don't YOU tell me how I feel!", she lashed out.

She could accept that he didn't love her or wasn't ready for her or didn't dare to because of Section. But she would never accept to see her feelings for him reduced to a mere physical reaction. It was far more than that and he knew it!

He continued to quietly study her, apparently untouched by her display of anger. But inside, he was boiling with raw need. He managed to keep his emotions in check though, afraid of what their release might bring. She was so alive, so tempting. All he had to do was whisper "I love you, too" or simply kiss her and she would be his. For a few heavenly hours, for a few days, maybe for months if he was lucky. But then eventually, he would lose the Nikita he loved. The price to pay to love him was too high. He would never let her do it.

"You don't need to do that Michael, you know. A simple *I don't love you back* would have been enough," she snorted. "I didn't think you did anyway," she bragged.

*That's it*, she thought. *This is really the end. Now we're finished*. She suppressed a shiver. She didn't want that. She didn't want to fool herself with the hope that he might love her someday, but she couldn't accept the fact that he denied her the very possibility of loving him. With that thought in mind, a new understanding dawned on her. Who was he trying to convince, him or her? Or both? Did he think his seduction techniques, the ones he used on her when ordered, had worked so effectively that he had "made" her fall in love with him?

"I'm not Viczano. You didn't *imprint* me during my training," she stated with force. "This is not some sort of backlash reaction caused by your Section seduction. I didn't fall for that!". She was pacing nervously in front of him.

Michael swallowed. Her anger always seemed to give a raw quality to her beauty. But as much as he wanted her, he couldn't tell her.

"For what then?", he questioned ironically. But he couldn't quite mask the impatience in his voice.

Nikita tried to calm down and collected her thoughts. When had it started? She managed to tell him as she was remembering.

"I was attracted to you very early on, I guess. Maybe not the first time but shortly after... But even then, it was not just a physical attraction. During my training, you... intrigued me... "

Michael lifted an eyebrow and she quickly added:

"You seemed so sure of yourself, always the perfect section operative, doing things by the book. You acted so much like a machine that I had a hard time remembering that you were also human. But I knew you were because of the way you treated me."

She gave him a quick glance. Michael waited, anxious and mesmerized by the tale of her falling in love with him.

She took another deep breath and continued. "You were patient with me. You never once raised your voice, even when I was pushing you past your limits. The only time I've seen you angry at me was after my first mission when I refused to kill a man. You've always tried to protect me, even if I didn't acknowledge it at the time. No one had ever done that for me before. No one..." her voice trailed on as she remembered her life before Section. Before him.

At that moment her loneliness mirrored his so intensely, that Michael was driven to take her in his arms to reassure her she would never feel unloved again. But she carried on before he could move.

"Back then, it was more a student-teacher liaison I suppose. Like a Pygmalion relationship. You tried to mold me into what Section wanted and I resented you and was grateful at the same time because it was saving my life. And then came the Bauer mission..."

Nikita paused, these were memories she had never planned to share with anyone, much less Michael. She searched his face for a sign of understanding, of approval. Finding none on his casual blank stare, she was tempted to give up. *Why bother?* she thought. But part of her still needed closure one way or the other. She braced herself: what could be the outcome, a broken heart? She had lost count of the times she had gathered its shattered pieces. She was used to it by now. So, she bravely went on.

"The Bauer mission was ... well, physical," she grinned. "Before that, I had never truly acknowledged... the effect you had on me. I couldn't deny it again after that," she recalled, then quickly added: "And never could you!"

Michael imperceptibly nodded. Nikita smiled. *First round for me*, she thought.

Of course, he agreed, how could he not to. He had been aware of his physical response to her long before this particular mission. Her spirit, her soul had bewitched him from the beginning. But when she had touched him, bitten him, performed for him, he had been overwhelmed by the intensity of his desire. Michael closed his eyes briefly and silently urged her to go on. For the moment, nothing she had said had come as a surprise. They would never be able to deny the obvious attraction they felt for each other.

Nikita pursued with a tired voice "OK, then you started manipulating me again. Oh, always for my own good. Or Section's. Sometimes both. You lied, you cheated, you betrayed me. You apologized and then did it again. And that's when I truly started to hate you." She paused for effect.

He listened, hands crossed in front of him, readying himself for the blow.

"It's not so much the lies I resented. It was the WAY you lied to me," she insisted. "You always had to seduce me first to do it. As if you needed to break a piece of my heart every time. And it hurt like hell. But even though I wanted to stay away I couldn't. Because I knew you cared."

Michael blinked. "How could you be so sure?", he challenged.

"Because of Simone," she simply stated.

When she saw his eyes change color, going suddenly from pale green to emerald, she went on: "I realized there was more to you that met the eye when I saw you with her. I wasn't sure you were capable of loving before. But I saw... I saw how much you loved her. I think ever since that day, I've been envious of that. Of being loved like that. By you."

"I only brought her pain," he whispered in a voice full of unshed tears. "Is this what you want?".

Nikita sighed. "I'm sure you brought her joy too, Michael. And so did she."

"Do you think it was worth 3 years of torture?", he angrily stated. He turned his back on her and started pacing. He stopped on the other side of the room, leaning his back against the wall. His breathing was ragged.

Nikita restrained her impulse to go to him, to comfort him. Instead she began: "You cannot blame yourself for..."

"I know exactly where to lay the blame," he interrupted her, his voice hoarse. "I didn't go back to her when she fell under the bullets, I accepted her death. I even...," he stated ironically, "TRUSTED Section with the knowledge she was dead and not a prisoner. I stopped loving her, Nikita. And in the end she chose death over me! And it was a sensible choice."

"It would never have been mine," she assured him forcefully. She knew it didn't make sense. How could she know how she would feel after 3 years of constant rapes and beatings? Nothing allowed her to say that except that she had contemplated suicide before. And she had chosen to stay alive because of him.

He stared at her, reminded again of her eerie capacity to enjoy life even after 4 years spent in Section. He wanted so much to burn himself at the flame of her liveliness... But there was too much darkness surrounding him and he couldn't risk bringing it upon her.

Nikita sighed at the defeated look on his face. "Is it so difficult to accept that I am truly in love with you Michael? Every time I thought I couldn't go on, you gave me reasons to live. I can't imagine my life without you in it. I tried for six months and it didn't worked," she reminded him

"One day you'll die because I brought you back, because you love me," he whispered with the sad and tired smile she had grown accustomed to since he had lost Adam.

Nikita was engulfed by a wave of sorrow. This man moved her like no other living soul. She had just recently witnessed the abyss of self-loathing and despair in which he had fallen. There were days when she thought she had brought him back for good among the living. And others, like now, when he looked so far gone that she doubted she ever could.

"Denying me the right to love you is not gonna change my feelings, Michael," she tenderly said.

Michael closed his eyes and clenched his fists. "I wish I could give you what you want, 'Kita," he breathed. "But I can't. I'm not asking for a second chance at... happiness. There's no room for love and tenderness in my life."

"I'll take what I can get," she countered lifting her chin.

"You need more and we both know it," he replied angrily. "What I could give you is not worth all the pain you'll get and the compromises you'll have to make!".

He started to walk slowly towards her. One step for each truth he needed to stamp on her. One step for each piece of her heart he would break once more. But he needed to make her see.

"You became a murderer because of me when you killed a man to save my life," he started. "It was the first time I allowed you to compromise yourself over me."

"This is my life, Michael and I chose to pull the trigger that day. It was my choice, my responsibility," she struggled to control the anger in her voice.

He moved closer. Threateningly calm.

"Not your choice, my ondoing. Tell me, what length will you go to pursue a relationship with me in Section?", he seductively asked.

Nikita didn't answer. She didn't like the look in his eyes. She had seen him interrogate targets in the White Room with the same look.

"When Madeline will send you on your next valentine mission, will you fight it like you would today? Or will you comply just because you think it's the price to pay to be with me?", he asked again in a husky voice.

He was achingly close to her now and began to move around her. Circling her like she was a prey he was about to attack. He captured Nikita's gaze with his own, forcing her to look at him as he resumed.

"Will you kill an innocent so Operations will let you stay with me?", he questioned softly. He was so close now he could feel the tension in her body.

Nikita tightened her jaw, she felt like Faust being tempted by Mephistopheles.

"Are you willing to sacrifice who you are to have the permission to love me?", he viciously added breathing the words in her ear.

"I don't need permission to love you," she hissed breaking the spell he had cast upon her.

"You're wrong," he whispered against her mouth. "Loving me doesn't come for free."

Nikita shivered at his closeness. He stayed there facing her, tempting her with his lips inches from hers, his warm body nearly brushing hers. But his eyes were cold.

She closed her eyes unable to look at him.

Michael's face mellowed immediately, once she couldn't see him. He took a step away from her and retreated towards the shadows. When she opened her eyes, his face was hidden in the darkness.

Nikita inhaled deeply and opened her mouth to say something but couldn't. She didn't fear Section when it came to Michael. She would gladly risk anything to be with him. But she couldn't deny his words had hit home. *What length would I go?* she wondered. *"What price would I have to pay?* She didn't like the way Michael made it sound like she’d be signing a pact with the devil. But it all came down to that in the end. Section would not condone a relationship between them and if eventually they did, they would ask for something in return. *Would I pay the price they ask?*

As if he had sensed her dilemma, Michael answered her silent question:

"You shouldn't compromise yourself over me, Nikita."

Nikita heard his plea. She could just picture the agony in his eyes from the begging sound of his voice. She tried to remember what had triggered her to confess her love for him. As she watched his dark silhouette outlined by the faint lights coming from the window, she recalled how lost he had looked when she had arrived. How lonely. She had wanted to change that. Naively she had thought her love would change that. But he looked even lonelier now.

"You should leave me now," he asked then and she knew what he really meant by that.

She thought *If I kissed him right now would he be able to push me away?*. She was tempted to do so and forget about the rest. But she reminded herself of the agony in his voice. He was too vulnerable now. Ironically, she could break him with her love at this point. And she wanted to be his strength, not his weakness. So, she would leave him. For now.

Before she reached the door though, she stopped in her tracks and looked over her shoulder. He was facing the window, his back to her.

"I won't let Section dictate my feelings. I'm not gonna give up on you without a fight, Michael," she warned him before leaving.

When he was sure she was too far to hear him, Michael whispered: "I know."

And as he listened to the sound of her retreating footsteps, he honestly couldn't say what terrified him the most that she should win or lose this battle.

THE END

Send suggestions and comments to Kadyn, click
HERE!