Approaching Zero/Season 3 Opening Arc/FLYF Spoiler

Nikita strolled through the hallways of Section One, unhurriedly making her way to the briefing that Michael had called her in for a half an hour ago. Section had interrupted her evening out and the devil in her decided Operations deserved to be kept waiting for at least a few minutes. She had been in the in the middle of her dinner with Jurgen when her cell phone rang. Laughing silently to herself, Nikita wondered about Michael's incredible sense of timing. If she didn't know better, she could almost believe he purposely planned the timing of his call. A small smile graced her face as she contemplated the ridiculousness of that possibility. "Hell," Nikita thought to herself, "If anything, Michael could probably care less about where I was and whom I was with."

Rounding a corner, she abruptly ran smack into the object of her thoughts. Glancing up, Nikita looked into Michael's eyes and was surprised to see a hint of emotion revealed. But before she had the chance to name it, Michael shuttered his thoughts, leaving her to wonder if she saw anything at all. Frustrated by another emotional blockade from him, Nikita decided to move this unscheduled meeting along with a direct approach.

"What's up?" she inquired.

"We're going out again," pause and then, "You weren't home when I called."

"I went out for dinner," she replied. Somewhat amused at his comment Nikita prodded further, "Why? Is that a problem?"

"No."

Observing him for a moment, Nikita watched for any sign from Michael - verbal or not - to indicate his true thoughts on the issue of where she had been. But like always all she encountered was the infamous 'blank stare,' causing her level of frustration to soar as her anger slowly began to take over. Internally she fumed over the thought that after everything they had been through recently, Michael did not even have the common decency to deal with her in a straight manner.

"Alright Michael, so what is this? So I went out to dinner. Why do you care?" pausing to allow him a response, she received nothing. A snide smile crossed her face, her anger seeping as she continued to prod Michael for a response. "Patented Michael answer - the blank stare. If you're jealous just be jealous. Tell me not to see him."

Approaching the situation with caution, Michael asked, "Is that all it would take?"

This time Michael managed to surprise Nikita with his question and she began to wonder if he might actually be jealous. Moving closer to him, she met his penetrating gaze with her own intense, probing glare. For a brief moment she studied the enigmatic man who was so many people to her - her trainer, her mentor, her friend, and most recently her lover. Still, for all those relationships Nikita felt like she barely knew Michael. Nonetheless, she was bound and determined to wedge a brick lose from his emotional wall.

Slowly, she responded to his question. "Maybe not. But at least it would be something real. Emotion. Instead of this cryptic game of twenty questions."

Nikita's words found their mark. Michael flinched slightly, almost infinitesimally and if she had blinked she would have missed the movement. But she did not blink, and in that moment everything changed for Nikita. She had proof that Michael felt something; that he was capable of emotions. Maybe it was not too late for them after all.

Michael, on the other hand, was silently reproaching himself for his moment of weakness in front of Nikita. He couldn't afford to lose control now - not until the mission against Jurgen achieved end game. To recover from his minor mistake, Michael replied with his own verbal stab.

"You're right. I shouldn't have asked."

Giving a small snort of disgust, Nikita commented, "So this is where we stand? You really don't care if I see Jurgen...?"

After her second question, Nikita paused and moved even closer to Michael so that almost no space existed between their bodies. She waited, patiently, keeping her gaze directly focused on his eyes and praying that he would grab at this last chance she was offering him for reconciliation. Just as Nikita was about give up and tell Michael she would see him at the briefing, his eyes changed color - from a murky green to a clear emerald. Hesitating, Nikita faltered as she stepped away.

Leaning into her right ear, Michael whispered, "Not here. Our café. Half an hour after the briefing."

His eyes lingered on her for a heartbeat longer before returning to a murky shade of green. Then he stepped away and continued on down the hallway towards the stairs. Nikita stood stock still, staring at Michael's departing back in shock. Deep down she never really expected an actual response from him, but now that she had one what did it mean?

**********

Michael stepped into the warm café and automatically inhaled the comforting scent of rich coffee and cigarettes. Spotting Nikita at the back of the room seated at their preferred table, he effortlessly wound his way through the maze of small, empty café tables and chairs towards her. As he approached the table and removed his leather trench coat, Nikita covertly studied his actions, attempting to calculate, from his posture, what this meeting could be about. Sliding into the chair next to her, Michael signaled the sole waiter over and ordered an espresso.

Once the waiter disappeared, Michael turned towards Nikita, but remained silent. As always the weight of Michael's gaze was intense and sometimes Nikita wondered if she was strong enough to support the depth of emotions he revealed through them, however infrequently. Unable to hold out against him, she broke away first and began fidgeting with the cocktail napkin under her coffee. She desperately wanted to point blank ask Michael what was going on, but suddenly her nerves seemed to get the better of her. So she waited for him to begin.

The silence ensued, neither breaking the fragile state between them. Michael kept his gaze on her, observing as she tore the napkin into bits and pieces. Only when the waiter returned with his espresso, did Michael draw his attention away from her. Seeing the couple needed nothing else, the waiter once again silently and discreetly retreated back into the shadows of the café.

Michael slowly sipped the strong coffee and stared out through the glass front towards the quiet street. To his left he could feel Nikita continue to fidget, her nervousness multiplying with each moment of silence. Having torn the napkin into a million pieces, her fingers then began to diligently decimate a small, discarded sugar cube wrapper lying on the table.

Unbeknownst to his jittery companion, a battle raged on inside Michael as well while he attempted to come to terms with the current state of things in his life. If he was free to choose, there would be no contest - he would be with Nikita this instant. But freedom was the one right he no longer owned in his life. No, his freedom belonged to Section and Section alone. Thus, he endured a servitude that tied him to a mission he had no desire to complete because it would pit him against two people he cared for and respected greatly. The same servitude forced him to marry an innocent woman against his will and create a child whose father could only bring pain to his young life. These were the facts of Michael's life and yet here he was in the café, about to possibly change everything. If he told Nikita the truth about the mission with Jurgen there would be no turning back for him. This one action of honesty would bind him to Nikita forever - even more so than the night they made love on the barge. Because once he took that step, Michael would never be able to return to the status quo - it would be too painful to ever see that look of mistrust and hurt in Nikita's eyes again. As always, Section had presented him with a no-win situation in which he had so much to lose.

In the deafening silence surrounding them, Nikita held her breath in waiting while Michael soul searched. As time slowly passed, she began to tap into the tension emanating from his body, sensing the strong, philosophical dilemma warring inside of him. While the details of his struggle remained unknown, she knew with certainty that Section was at the root of it. Operations and Madeline mostly likely had developed a profile that would achieve their end game while mercilessly testing how close they could push their best operative to the edge of the emotional cliff he teetered on. What Nikita wondered was, had they finally pushed him too far this time?

This meeting seemed to be evidence that Michael may have reached his limit. By asking her to meet him here, he had taken one step farther away from the controlling hand of Operations and Madeline. Whether conscious or not, Nikita understood only too well the difficulty of his decision. To be able to tell the truth inside the walls they lived in was a gift greater than anything else in this world. A gift she used to be able to give freely; but, by choosing to work for Center, honesty became a commodity she could no longer afford. So she understood Michael's dilemma better than he could ever imagine. Deep down Nikita almost wished he would continue to lie to her so that this charade between them would continue to be evenly balanced.

Nikita's own internal contemplation was suddenly interrupted when Michael whispered her name.

"Yes Michael," she responded.

"I...I'm sorry," he uttered pleadingly, his voice cracking slightly.

Smiling wistfully, she answered, "I know."

Figuring that Michael had decided against telling her the truth, for whatever reason, she was greatly surprised then when he continued speaking.

"There is something you need to know," he hesitated, still uncertain of his chosen path, "It's about Jurgen."

Bracing herself for more terrible lies about the man she was beginning to care for as a friend and possibly more, she asked, "What about Jurgen?"

"Section's using you to get to him," he whispered hoarsely. Terrified he had made the wrong choice, Michael glanced away unable to face Nikita.

Nikita did not respond immediately. Instead she fumed internally as Michael's words confirmed her fear about Section giving him another test, especially since it seemed to pit him against her once again. Add Jurgen into the mix and the task must have seemed daunting to Michael. While she did not have the details, Nikita intuited that the history between Jurgen and Michael ran long and deep. Finally she took a deep breath and responded to Michael's comment.

"You're on a mission against him. It has to do with whatever information Jurgen is holding over Section's head in exchange for his relative freedom," she guessed correctly.

Stunned at her quick analysis of the situation, Michael's head snapped around and his eyes bore into Nikita. In her own matching gaze he found no recriminations, no tears of hurt - only anger. Even then, her anger was not directed at him, but rather at Section. For once in his life Michael was dumbfounded.

Amused by his reaction, Nikita attempted to relieve his confusion, commenting, "You once said you wished things could be different - for us. So do I. Before today I didn't know if they could be, but you've given me hope."

Allowing the silence to filter in once again, Nikita gathered her thoughts before continuing with her explanation.

"You've given me more than I ever expected by telling me about your mission. You've put me before Section for the first time," she paused and caught Michael's gaze, continuing, "It means everything to me."

Sliding his hand across the table, he grabbed her right hand with his left one and held on tightly. A spark of electricity passed through them as their hands connected and the passion between them surfaced in their eyes. Guided only by instinct, Michael leaned closer and closer to Nikita until his lips softly brushed against hers. She inhaled deeply as desire coiled fiercely inside her stomach at even the briefest touch. Bridging the half of an inch between them, Nikita wrapped her free hand in Michael's hair and brought his mouth to hers. As always, everything else faded away when they kissed.

All Michael could sense was Nikita and she him. His tongue slide across her sealed lips, seeking access while his free hand slid around her waist so that they were now chest to chest. At the persistence of his probing tongue, she parted her lips and lost herself in the magic of kissing the most passionate man she had ever known. The man she loved.

In return, kissing Nikita was a homecoming for Michael. A feeling he had desperately been without for far too long and one he had almost never expected to feel again. However, the proof was undeniable. The woman he loved filled his arms once again, her firm body pressing against his and enveloping him in her heat. The sweet scent of her perfume filled his nostrils. Her tender, pliant lips mated with his in one long, luxuriously continuous kiss.

Eventually the need for air penetrated their consciousness and the two lovers broke apart just enough to inhale deep, life-affirming breaths. Lifting his hand out of Nikita's grasp, Michael ran his thumb across her eyebrow and down the slope of her check, sending an incredible, overwhelming sensation of tenderness through her.

"Michael," Nikita breathed raggedly.

Continuing with his loving caress, he shifted his gaze to meet her shimmering blue eyes and inquired, "What?"

"I have every faith in us. Have a little faith in me now."

Nodding his head in understanding, he quietly said, "I do."

***********

Nikita recklessly threw her apartment door open and tiredly stepped inside her pitch black home. Carelessly dropping her bag on the floor by the counter, she flipped on the kitchen lights, tossed her floppy, brown hat on the center island, walked over to her white living room chair and tiredly plopped down. Jurgen's death and the preceding mission to bring him down had taken its emotional and physical toll on Nikita. His loss hurt greatly, but even more so, her betrayal of him weighed heavily on her conscious. In the end Jurgen was a good man, he just tried to play by rules other than Section's. It was a contest he could never have won.

Turning her thoughts to Michael, she knew he was worried about her. Understanding Michael as she did, he probably blamed himself for telling her about the mission. He would fear that the price of betrayal would have been too heavy for her to carry. Giving a humorless laugh, Nikita thought, "If only you knew Michael. If only you knew." The price of betrayal already lay heavily on her heart and she was beginning to wonder if she was up to the task Center had placed before her.

As she stretched out across the chair, a small sigh escaped between her lips. All she had ever wanted since returning to Section was to be with Michael. But instead of things being easier now that their feelings had been revealed, everything seemed that much harder. The obstacles unceasingly continued to pile one on top of the other - Section, Center, Jurgen, Michael's lies, her own lies. The list was endless.

A quiet knock at her door startled Nikita out of her pensive thoughts. Rising from her chair, she reached the door as her visitor knocked a second time. She opened the door to find Michael patiently waiting.

"Michael."

"May I come in?" he asked politely.

Opening the door even wider to accommodate Michael's crutches, Nikita gestured with her arm for him to enter. Agilely making his way to her sitting area, he slowly lowered himself on to her couch, ever careful of his injured knee, and then placed the crutches on the floor. Nikita had followed behind him and resumed her previous seat.

Always cautious of who might be observing her apartment, Nikita swept her eyes around the room and silently questioned Michael about the surveillance.

"We're safe."

Comfortable to just be in each other's presence for a few moments, the two lovers simply gazed at each other and enjoyed their brief moment of solitude. Other than a short confrontation in Comm. earlier, neither of them had had the opportunity to talk since returning from the mission that brought about Jurgen's death.

Deciding to finally speak up, Nikita cleared her throat and said, "I'm sorry about Jurgen."

"So am I," Michael replied and then questioned, "How are you doing?"

Smiling at the concern in his voice, she gently reassured him. "I'm okay Michael, really. Like I said, I will miss Jurgen, but in the end he chose his own path."

"Yes."

Once again a peaceful silence filled the apartment, each lost in their memories of a good friend. After a length of time, Nikita began to feel restless and rose from her chair. Moving about the apartment in a haphazard manner, she grabbed a book of matches and lit the numerous candles scattered around her place. With her goal accomplished, she turned off the kitchen lights and returned to Michael, taking a place beside him this time.

In the luminous glow of the candles, he watched a variety of thoughts flitter through her eyes before he brought up the issue they needed to discuss.

Referring to her previous comment, he asked, "And what path do you chose?"

Inhaling sharply, Nikita pinned Michael with her penetrating gaze too shocked to speak for the moment. She never expected Michael to be so direct about their relationship. Recovering her senses, she countered, "What about you? What path do you chose?"

At her question a look of longing crossed Michael's face. What path did he chose? The answer to the question was simple, but the consequences, however, were not.

"The situation is complicated Nikita. My life isn't mine to control. No one's is in Section," he answered solemnly.

Nikita merely nodded her head, never breaking eye contact with Michael as he tried to explain himself.

"I want to be with you Nikita. More than you can probably imagine. But I can't. Not right now. Your safety and the safety of others depend on my appearance of complete loyalty to the Section. Can you understand that?"

"Yes," she sighed, feeling relieved that he had not rejected her once again, "I can understand. But where does that leave us?"

"I don't know yet. We will have to figure that out."

Sliding closer to Michael, Nikita placed both of his hands in hers. Lifting them to her mouth, she kissed the palm of the right one first and then the left. With his hands firmly in her grasp, she looked deeply into her lover's eyes and gave the only answer she could because she was in a similar position to Michael.

"We'll figure it out together."

At her words, a great ball of tension inside his stomach unknotted itself and left Michael feeling more optimistic than he had ever been before. Pressing closer to Nikita, he brushed his lips across hers twice, in a kiss of thanks and tenderness. Then he reached for his crutches, rose off the couch and headed for the door. As he stood in the threshold, Michael turned one last time to Nikita, his gaze filled with lasting promises. Then he was gone.

Nikita ran her fingers across her lips, a sexy, knowing smile gracing her peaceful face. "Yes," she thought to herself, "We are in this together and maybe, just maybe, Michael and I will beat the odds."

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