* * * * * * * * * * * * Authors' notes: This story was co-authored by Trudy and Leigh. It took shape spontaneously in August, 1998, when the TV episodes were particularly depressing to the hard-core romantics (HRs). We had no plan at the beginning and played off of each others' chapters, without comparing notes. It was a fun, exciting, and enjoyable experience and the resulting story was just as much of a surprise to us as it was our beloved readers! * * * * * * * * * * * *

Part 1 - Trudy

He left Section and felt the cool air of early evening caress his cheeks. It was still light outside as he began the short walk home to his apartment.

He passed the park that was only two blocks away from Section. He saw her sitting alone on a bench overlooking the lake.

He stopped and caught his breath. Even with her back to him, her beauty was unmistakable. Her golden hair cascaded over her shoulders. Her thin frame was poised, yet relaxed. She sat quietly, without movement, hands clasped on her lap.

He noted that her clothing had changed over the past few months -- no longer did she wear the vibrant colors that reflected her enthusiasm and love for life. She wore darker colors, like him. Not all black, he mused, but browns, grays, subdued shades that seemed to reflect her mood these days.

She was like a magnet to him. He knew he should not go to her, but his body would not obey his mind when it came to her. He had worked tirelessly at keeping himself in control -- and distant -- around her in the past few months to protect them both from Section's vengeance. Yet, he found himself standing in front of her now.

"Nikita."

"Hello, Michael."

"What are you doing?" he asked quietly.

"Thinking" Nikita replied softly as she looked up into his green eyes.

He held her gaze for a moment, scanned the park, then looked back into her eyes, "May I sit down?"

She hesitated for a moment, "Of course."

They sat together quietly as several minutes passed, their bodies only inches apart, watching the ducks swim near the shore of the lake.

"What are you thinking about?" he finally whispered, glancing over to admire her beautiful face.

Nikita waited a moment before answering, choosing her words carefully, not meeting his gaze.

"I'm thinking I made a monumental mistake in estimation," she said quietly, sadly.

What was she talking about, he thought. His mind quickly processed an assessment of the past few days, trying to pinpoint a mistake she might have made at Section. None came to mind. She had performed her jobs well, without error.

He looked out over the lake and asked casually, "What do you mean?"

Long moments passed as she collected her thoughts. Slowly, she turned her sad eyes to his and regarded his handsome face, looking deeply into his eyes, down to his lips, and then meeting his eyes again. She didn't want to deliberately hurt him, but knew she had to speak the truth for her own sake.

"I underestimated myself and I overestimated you." She turned her eyes back to the water.

His heart jolted, but he gave no outward response to her comment.

"Nikita, what are you saying? Puzzled, he turned his body toward her and gave her his full attention.

"I should have never come back to Section, Michael." Nikita closed her eyes. She could not look at him.

In that moment and with those words, Michael's heart broke. He felt the sting of tears welling up behind his eyes. He didn't want to hear more, but could not keep himself from probing.

"Meaning?"

"I underestimated that I could not live on my own and find a life for myself when I was free, and that's because I overestimated you."

Michael's head was spinning, he felt as if he had been pierced by a bullet. He was sure he could not survive hearing any more. But, he sat quietly, showing no reaction to those devastating words. He turned to look out at the lake while she continued.

Nikita took a deep breath and continued quietly, truthfully, sorrowfully, and without anger.

"I came back for you, Michael. I was blinded by my love for you and stupidly thought that we could have some kind of life together. It never occurred to me that you didn't think that too. I knew the rules then and I know them now -- a relationship is not possible. But still, I lied to myself that it could be done. I wanted it to be. But, of course, all there can be is the *job.* I realize that now."

Both took deep breaths, the anguish overflowing in each broken heart. Nikita's tears streamed down her hot cheeks. She felt nauseous, feverish. She could no longer control the onslaught of pain in the verbalization of the truth.

She shook her head. "I don't blame you Michael. I blame myself. I didn't think it through. It *was* a mistake. And, I'll pay for it as long as I live," she whispered.

Nikita reached over and gently rubbed her hand over his trying to find some comfort in this horrific moment. There was none. She pulled her hand away slowly instantly feeling cold. She rose and walked away.

Michael's eyes followed her until she was out of sight. The night had fallen. No one was near. It was then that he felt the tears falling.

He heard his heart scream out to her, but he knew he could not speak these words: "Nikita, don't give up on me."

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

Part 2 - Leigh

There was no answer to his knock at her door. Michael lifted his hand and knocked again -- louder. Still there was no response, yet, he had seen her car parked below. Michael reached into his pocket and removed the key he had brought with him. The thought occurred to him, as he inserted the key into the lock, that it had been a very long time since he had actually used his key. Since Nikita's return to Section, Michael had been to Nikita's apartment only twice.

As the lock clicked open, Michael twisted the knob and pushed the door slightly open. The room was bathed in darkness. Hesitantly, he stepped forward, his hand reached for the light switch and flipped it on. He closed the door behind him as his eyes began a tight scrutiny of the room. It was empty in more ways than one. Everywhere he looked were signs of the austere, coldness of Section -- but no Nikita. There was no warmth, no personality, no light. It was devoid of her essence.

Gliding forth, Michael's gaze moved to her bedroom. She had knocked down the walls so that the most private room of her home lay exposed. It reminded Michael of a glass cage, yet its decor revealed nothing about its inhabitant. Very much like how Nikita was now. Her eyes, the windows to her soul, remained open to his and Section's scrutiny. Yet, nothing was ever visible.

Michael was about to leave when he noticed the balcony door was ajar. Slowly he made his way over and looked out. She was there, sitting on the ground outside, her knees drawn up to her chest as she gazed out at the stars. Michael stood a minute watching her before he opened the door and walked over to her.

Looking down at her he said simply, "We need to talk, Nikita."

Her response was a brief laugh that seemed almost sarcastic. She still didn't look at him but continued to stare out into the night. "What is there to talk about?"

Michael's eyes moved over her with mild irritation. Nothing in her tone or expression revealed what she was feeling. She had learned her lessons well -- lessons *he* had taught her. *This wasn't working,* he thought. If he wanted her to know that he cared about her, he had to at least TRY and open up to her. Michael glanced down to the ground as he struggled to find the words to express himself. "I'm worried about you," he stated softly. The corners of his sensual mouth curved down slightly, "You seem as if you're ready to ... give up."

She didn't bother to look up at him. "And what if I am?" she asked softly. "What if I were thinking of ending it all. Would you stop me, Michael?"

Michael didn't answer right away as he looked away into the night. His eyes glistened with tears. "Yes," he finally stated in a whisper so soft, she barely heard him.

"Really?"

Nikita laughed briefly, skeptically. "And what could you possibly do, or give me, Michael, to make me change my mind?" Her eyebrows lifted mockingly. "Love? Friendship? Freedom?" She paused and watched with amusement as Michael stood staring back at her with his blank stare.

"Life," he responded quietly.

Nikita snorted softly as she closed her eyes. "Life?" Nikita opened her eyes as she stated slowly, "*This* isn't life."

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

Part 3 - Leigh

"You would leave me." It was a statement rather than a question and Michael stared out into the night, his body tense, as he awaited her answer. However, Nikita didn't respond, instead she stood and dusted the seat of her pants off as she turned to go in. She felt no need to continue this conversation.

Michael's hand reached out and detained her. Silently he turned his head toward her, staring into the blue eyes he knew so well.

"Would you?" he asked again.

With a slight lift of her head, Nikita shifted her gaze over to him. Her eyes were dry and clear, her voice steady as she stated quietly, "Yes."

Michael blinked several times as he searched her face. He had fought for so long to keep her alive -- and now -- she stood before him saying she would throw it all away. "Why?" he whispered in a voice that revealed the pain she inflicted upon him.

A fragile smile spread across Nikita's face as she mulled over his question. "Oh ... I dunno," she remarked, almost flippantly. "Because I'm not a machine? Because I need more to consider life worth living for? Because I can no longer tell the difference between right and wrong? Because I no longer know who I am ...." A sadness came over her eyes as she gazed back at him. "Take your choice, Michael."

"Nikita ..."

She had moved away from him and was heading back indoors. Michael could see he was losing her. All his running interference for her with Operations would be of no use if Nikita had no will to live -- and she HAD to live. He couldn't accept the alternative. In quiet desperation he uttered the words he had sworn to never reveal to her.

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

Part 4 - Trudy

He said it so softly, she wasn't sure she'd heard it at all. She stopped dead in her tracks and swung around to face him. He had his eyes closed. She stared at him in disbelief.

At that very moment, when he quietly and desperately spoke those words: "I love you, Nikita ... you *cannot* leave me," he regretted it. He closed his eyes. This was the moment of truth. All at once, he was both relieved and terrified. Relieved that he had finally told her his true feelings, but terrified at the consequences.

This truth -- the one that bound them forever together -- also lead the way to untold heartbreak. And Michael knew it. He'd been there before.

Michael knew from first-hand experience that relationships revealed to Section lead to excruciating pain and suffering. For every *moment* of happiness he had with Simone, there were *days* of separation, betrayal, deception, and manipulation. Section did it to them and they did it to each other. In fact, Michael sometimes wondered if he and Simone's marriage would have lasted had she lived. The pain they were exposed to was unbearable. He wondered about it even more once Nikita had been fatefully thrown into his life. She would have surely caused a chasm in their lives.

Nikita. She was the true love of his life ... no woman, not even Simone, had ever come close to penetrating his heart and soul like she had. She was his perfect match in every way. Together they made a whole; apart they drifted aimlessly without a clear course. If she were to give up, if she were to die, he knew he would follow her. He had decided that long ago.

"Michael? What did you say?" She walked toward him slowly.

"You heard me," he said softly. Michael opened his eyes and looked into her azure eyes. Long moments passed as he collected his thoughts.

Slowly, he reached over and picked up her hand. He opened his to hers -- palm to palm -- his large callused hand against her small, soft hand. Michael noted with sadness how tiny her hand was measured to his. It spoke volumes to him. He was reminded how gentle and vulnerable she was.

He had forced her to be strong, forced her to become a machine. It was *he* that had taught her to live with the death, and destruction, manipulation and betrayals. *He* taught her to be stoic, guarded, and secretive.

But this was not Nikita. It was not who she was. It was killing her to be like him. He realized that she still needed to be protected, cared for, defended, nurtured, but in a different way. If he continued to suppress Nikita's true spirit, her essence would wither away. All that she was, the light that she offered him, the vibrancy that was Nikita, would die. In fact, it had already begun. And he was the man facilitating it -- all in the name of protection.

This had to stop, he knew. And the time was now. But the truth of the matter was that they had to find a way to live inside the parameters set by Section.

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

Part 5 - Leigh

"You can't give up, Nikita," Michael said softly as he gazed into her questioning eyes.

Nikita took a step closer to him, her mind whirling at what he had revealed. Yet, she hesitated -- afraid that this was but another manipulation. Her gaze searched his eyes, hoping that he spoke the truth. "Why shouldn't I give up, Michael?" she asked.

Michael held her gaze. It pained him to see the doubt in her eyes -- to know that he had hurt her so many times. Even now she was afraid to accept the truth when he had finally spoken it to her. He raised one hand and gently brushed back a strand of golden hair from her face. A part of him longed to escape her piercing gaze, to shut himself off so that she couldn't see just how vulnerable he was to her. But if he did, he would lose her in more ways than one. His thumb caressed her cheek.

"If you give up, Nikita ..." His voice faltered as a tortured expression filled his green eyes. "I'd have no reason to go on," he whispered hoarsely.

Nikita's whole body stiffened as she listened to him. She desperately wanted to believe him. She needed to know that he cared for her -- truly cared for her. But her heart was afraid. She'd offered her love to him on so many occasions only to have him throw it back at her. Now, when he finally said the words she longed to hear, her heart screamed in protest.

Slowly Nikita shook her head. "No," she murmured. "You're lying. You don't need anyone, Michael," she stated softly. A wry hint of a smile lifted the corners of her lips as she silently cursed herself for almost falling to his charms -- yet again.

Nikita stepped back and tried to withdraw her hand from his, but Michael's fingers tightened their hold as his other hand gently held her chin and forced her to look at him. "Am I, Nikita?" he asked. Her words stung him as no other's could. As he searched her azure blue eyes -- eyes that haunted his dreams -- a quiet anger born of despair filled him. His thumb caressed her lower lip as he stared piercingly at her. "Why can't you see my love for you, Nikita?" he whispered in a broken voice. "I would do anything for you -- to protect you. Anything. I would lie, kill, disobey, sell myself ... I'd do it all to keep you safe, Nikita. And I would have no regrets." He released her then and turned his back to her -- unwilling for her to see the depth of the pain her words caused him. "I know you once said that you didn't want my protection ... but it's all I have to offer you, Nikita," he whispered.

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

Part 6 - Trudy

"Life ... protection -- all you have to offer, hmmm? Michael, is this how you measure your worth to me?" Nikita stared intensely into his back. She felt deep frustration at the enormous differences in how each other interpreted love. "Is it?"

"Yes. I don't know any other way, Nikita."

"But you do, Michael ... you *do* know another way. I've seen it." She moved closer to him and gently placed her hand on his shoulder. She felt him stiffen at her touch. Quickly she removed her hand, but stayed close to him.

"A few weeks ago, in this apartment, I saw the *real* you," she whispered in his ear. "I loved that part of you." Nikita moved closer until her body was nestled against his back laying her head against his shoulder, caressing his strong, muscular arms with her gentle hands.

Michael closed his eyes. Her touch was electric and it caused his mind to blur instantly. It was all he could do to keep focused on the topic and to control his body. What he really wanted to do was throw her down on the carpet, strip the clothes away from her perfect body and *show* her exactly how much he loved her.

"You were gentle and loving then, Michael ... tender. That's what I want from you."

"And you saw the result, Nikita ... I was nearly canceled." He swiftly moved away from her touch and began pacing in front of the counter.

Nikita felt her rage explode at his unwilling and unbending attitude.

"Look, Michael, let's quit screwing around." She walked over and angrily turned him to her. He met her blazing eyes with his blank stare, his hands clasped in front of him.

"I love you with all my heart, Michael. But, I am not *stupid.* I know all about the dangers of relationships in Section. I get it, Michael, I understand. Do you really think I don't realize how difficult it will be ... that we will not *live* together, that we will not even be together most of the time? It would be a secret and our time together would be limited. I get it ... Jesus. Don't insult my intelligence. I accept the truth of what it will be ... why the hell can't you?" She was outraged. Michael took deep breaths desperately trying to keep his emotions under control. She was throwing daggers at his heart and they were hitting the mark. Of all the adversaries he had *ever* faced, Nikita was by far the most challenging. And he knew why -- she was the only one that mattered to him -- no one else was in her league.

"I know what a relationship will cost, Nikita." He spoke these words clearly and deliberately, trying to get through to her. She may think she knows what we'd be up against, he thought, but she has no idea. "I know what will happen, I've lived it before."

"And didn't you learn anything from it, Michael?"

"Yes ... not to do it again."

"Get out Michael ... you call this *love*? I don't want it ... goodbye."

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

Part 7 - Leigh

"Ni-ki-ta ..." Michael used his most seductive tone in an attempt to calm her.

"Get out, Michael! Now!!"

Nikita's eyes blazed with anger. *How could he be so obstinate,* she wondered. Every damn operative she knew had some romantic affair going on. Hell, even Madeline and Operations were involved with each other!

She had confronted Michael with that fact, suggesting that relationships could be carried out within Section. He had had the nerve to tell her in his self-sacrificing, deprecatory manner, "Just because it can be done doesn't mean it should be, Nikita." *Well deprecate this, Michael!*

"We're through, Michael," she growled through clenched teeth. "As far as I'm concerned we need never speak to each other again outside of mission parameters. What I do with my life is MY business and what you do with yours is yours. I'm sick and tired of you telling me to be patient, telling me you love me, and then pushing me away." Nikita paused as tears filled her eyes and angrily she turned away, not wanting him to see them. "You don't love me, Michael ... I was a fool to believe you ever did."

Michael stood dangerously silent, his body tense as he absorbed her outburst. His green eyes darkened ominously as he covered the distance between them in two long strides. His hand grasped her shoulder and spun her around to face him and his eyes raked over her tear-stained cheeks. "I don't love you?" he asked angrily. "Then what do you call this?"

In the next second Michael pulled Nikita forcefully into his arms as his mouth descended upon hers and devoured her in a deep, searing kiss. She fought against him, her hands pushing against his chest, but Michael would not be denied. His hands held her biceps firmly as his mouth continued its onslaught.

Nikita heard a deep moan and realized with anger that it came from her. *Damn him, he's doing it again!* she thought.

She tore her mouth away from his, her breath coming out in quick succession. Immediately Michael lowered his mouth to the wildly beating pulse at the base of her neck and he licked it, teased it, before he bit her and then sucked her hard.

"Ahh, Michael ..." she moaned. She renewed her struggle to free herself from his sensual lips. He was driving her insane and she couldn't think straight with his lips on her. "No! Damn you, Michael ... you're not playing fair!" she moaned.

"Love isn't fair, Nikita," Michael murmured as his hands slid down to her hips and pulled her against his hardened arousal. He watched as Nikita bit her lower lip to suppress another moan that threatened to escape. Michael bent his mouth to hers and brushed his lips against hers, caressing them until she relaxed and parted them willingly under his. He could feel her control slipping and it pleased him immensely.

"Let me show you how much I love you, Kita," he whispered.

Nikita gave a resigned sigh as she slipped her arms around his neck and pulled his head down to her. "All right, Michael," she murmured. "Prove it to me."

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

Part 8 - Trudy

The moment he touched her, he felt liquid fire course through his body. Her touch was as potent an aphrodisiac to him as any exotic concoction known. He slowly snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. Their lips were a whisper apart. He looked deeply into her eyes and lost himself there.

Nikita was weak with desire ... anger quickly gone, replaced by lustful passion. She moved her body closer to his, slipping her thighs between his, pushing her hips into his, feeling the hardness of his arousal. Her eyelids shuttered. She licked her lips slowly, seductively. She felt him grow harder.

"I'm in love with you, Nikita," he whispered erotically. She swooned.

Those were the sexiest words she had ever heard. Her body went limp and she felt his strong arms gather her into him. "I've always been in love with you." He kissed her lips, licking them, sucking them, soothing them. He opened her mouth with his tongue and met hers, licking, tasting, caressing. She pulled back for a moment, catching her breath.

"Michael ..." she hardly knew where she was, but tried to string together coherent words. "We need to talk ...." He cut her off with a deep, searing kiss. He pulled her closer. Their bodies were pressed together so tightly, she thought they felt like one.

"Later. I need you now. Comfort me, soothe me."

That was all it took. She was his, now and forever, and under any circumstance. He lifted her up and carried her to the bedroom all the while kissing her, roughly, then softly, exploring her sweet mouth, tasting her tongue, sucking and sipping her sweet lips.

Michael laid her on the bed carefully. He straddled her body, his strong thighs tightly encasing hers. He sat up over her and began to unbutton her blouse. He never took his eyes from her. He gave a look of such passion, such desire, that it took Nikita's breath away. She could feel the warm wetness between her legs. She was ready for him ... wanting him inside her ... aching for him.

Once unbuttoned, he slowly moved the edges of the blouse away to reveal her beautiful breasts. Perfect, rosy nipples erect waiting for him to kiss, bite, lick. Quickly, he removed his sweater so that he could feel his burning skin against hers. He wanted to feel the touch of their naked bodies rubbing together, smooth, slick with desire. Suddenly, he had to have all clothing removed. He deftly removed his clothing within moments and stripped her quickly, his hands moving across her silky skin, worshipping her, desperate for her body, for her soul to wash over him, soothe his weary mind, comfort his tired muscles.

Their union was swift and powerful. They met each other perfectly with every thrust, struggling to meld into one. "Kita, you feel so good," he groaned. "Stay with me ... love me ... Kita," his deep voiced whispered in her ear. His cheeks stroked hers, he kissed her earlobe, sucked and licked it. They rocked together in abandon, their arms entwined, bodies joined tightly, kissing, touching.

"Michael ... yes." His words threw her over the edge. Her orgasm was pulsating and powerful. She convulsed around his throbbing shaft over and over, milking him to his own shattering climax. He cried her name again and again as he emptied his hot liquid inside her. They clung tightly together, Michael's arms pulling Nikita to his heart and holding her there closely as if afraid to let go.

Michael felt alive and euphoric like no other time in his life. Only with Nikita ... only with *this woman* did he *truly* feel like a worthwhile human being.

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

Part 9 - Trudy

He awoke to the sound of a match striking flint and the scent of sulfur. As he focused his sleepy eyes, he saw her lighting candles and then moving to stand by the french doors to gaze at the moon. She was beautiful, like a goddess ... lean body, long legs ... her golden hair sparkled in the light of the moon.

He laid on his side, his head propped up on one elbow, watching her in silence for several minutes. "Nikita, come back to bed," he quietly urged her. She turned to face him and gave him a sad smile. As she slowly moved to the bed, he could see the questions in her eyes, and knew that it was time to talk.

"Come to me Kita, come lay next to me." Michael ached for her nearness -- suddenly her absence from their bed left him empty and cold.

He knew there would be serious words spoken moments from now, but he needed to say them in the security of their bed, with her in his arms. It startled him that he considered her bed his. As he examined this interesting notion, he realized that she had never shared this bed with anyone but him. Surveillance had proven that. And, even though she had not made love with him here, the only two people who had ever slept here were them.

Nikita gently climbed into bed, into his waiting arms. He was warm and inviting, open and gentle. They kissed tenderly. Then the moment had come -- it was time to face the seriousness of their situation. Where would they go from here?

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

Part 10 - Leigh

"We have to talk." He whispered these words to her as he held her tenderly in his arms, his lips pressed against her forehead.

Nikita nodded and then pulled away. Silently, she reached over for her robe and slipped it on and then sat on the edge of the bed next to him.

Her eyes roamed over him before she leaned over and grabbed the quilt and covered his nakedness. She didn't want either of them to be distracted from the seriousness of the conversation that she hoped would be taking place.

Michael watched her quietly as she moved about. As she pulled the quilt over him, he reached for her hand and held it in his until she raised her gaze to meet his. "Are you all right, Nikita?" he asked softly.

Her lips curved into a small smile as she responded. "Yeah, Michael. I am."

They sat awkwardly in silence for several long seconds, neither really knowing what to say. Finally, Nikita shifted her position, she drew her knees up to her chest and hugged her legs tightly. She held Michael's gaze with her own as she began to speak softly.

"You and I are so different, Michael. We come from completely different backgrounds. We see the world differently. React differently ... we even love differently."

Nikita took Michael's hand that lay on the bed and tenderly closed her fingers over his. "I know you care for me, Michael. I know you try to show it to me by protecting me and doing whatever you can to keep me alive." Nikita squeezed his hand. "I appreciate that. I *really* do."

Tears filled her eyes and she blinked rapidly to clear them away as she bit her lower lip. "I've seen you lie to protect me. I've watched you take the blame for my mistakes. You've even used your body in order to save me." She paused as the painful memory of Lisa came to mind.

"Nikita?" His voice was filled with worry as he watched a tormented expression fill her eyes.

Nikita shook her head, indicating that she wasn't finished. "Michael, I know you do all these things to show you care for me ... But it's not enough."

She saw a puzzled look come into his eyes and she repressed the urge to lay in his arms. "Your actions are noble, even gallant. My knight in shining armor," she smiled lopsidedly at him. "But what good is it all," she asked softly as her countenance once again became serious, "if you never touch me? Or allow me to touch you? What good is all this fighting to save the world, if I have to come home to emptiness? What is the use of living, Michael ... if I can't love you?"

His eyes glimmered in the soft glow of the candlelit room.

"I'm not expecting you to take an ad out in the paper proclaiming your feelings for me. Neither do I expect you to show any public display of affection. Let's face it, there will be times when I'll disagree with what Section does and with what you order me to do. I'll probably yell and scream because I can't hold it in like you do, but, I'd like to know that when my anger is over, that I can come to you in the privacy of our own home and know that you'll hold me while I cry. I'd like to know that when Section forces you to do things that tear you apart, that you'll come to me and let me comfort you -- love you."

Nikita paused as her eyes searched his. "Is that too much to ask for, Michael?"

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

Part 11 - Trudy

*Too much to ask for?* was her justifiable question. Michael sighed and lowered his head to the pillow looking up at the ceiling. He shook his head slowly, closed his eyes, and whispered "I don't know, Kita."

Michael took several deep breaths to calm himself. Here she was, his angel, the woman he loved more than life, desperately searching for a way to cope, willing to accept the least he could give her -- willing to be the back street girl, coming in last place to the almighty Section. And all he would have to do was hold her when she needed him. Why did he feel so hesitant, he wondered. And then it quickly came back to him -- he knew the program; he knew the drill.

It was easy to love her as she desired in this protected place -- their bed, where he had *always* been gentle, tender and protective. No matter where they had made love before, the few times they had shared a bed, it had been a secure place for them. He knew he could never hurt her here -- it was impossible for him to feel anything but overwhelming love and passion when he held her in his arms.

But what about everywhere else? There was *no* protection, except for the shields that Michael painstakingly surrounded Nikita in. Michael knew that in order to protect their love, he had to be cold, ruthless, cruel, and distant -- all the things Nikita hated in him. All the things she was asking him *not* to be. The situation appeared impossible to him. To explain it to her was an even greater challenge.

He looked at her beautiful, hopeful face ... so full of expectation. It crushed him that he would, yet again, break her heart. He knew, that to keep her alive, he could not change his approach. He didn't know how. Michael took her hand and laced his fingers through them, while looking deeply into her eyes. He could read the raw honesty there -- he realized again that he would lose her if he didn't at least TRY to make some changes. But how would he do that? he wondered.

"Nikita, what you are asking is ... difficult. Section ... it can destroy us and everything we have between us." He was having trouble finding the words that would express his fears. He looked up at the ceiling, then closed his eyes, unwilling to let her see the tears that were forming there. "I'm afraid, Nikita" he whispered honestly.

Nikita saw the tears fall from the edge of his closed eyes. She was stunned beyond belief. Michael ... Section's smooth operator, the killer, the master strategist, the legendary secret agent -- afraid. She never realized how vulnerable, how deeply sensitive this man really was. He had hidden it well.

"Michael, why? What are you afraid of? That I'll tell everyone that we're together? No one will know. I understand the dangers, Michael, I do," Nikita tried to reassure him.

He pulled her down to her pillow so that she was facing him. He softly pushed a lock of golden hair behind her ear and caressed her cheek with his fingertips.

"Nikita, when Simone and I were lovers and then married, every mission was a problem. We both worried about the other. Sometimes we made needless mistakes because we were concerned about the other getting hurt. This is when Operations separated us."

Michael turned to look up at the ceiling, taking her hand in his, gently caressing it. "When that happened, we worried even more because we were not together to look out for each other. My mind was constantly on Simone, where she was, if she was okay. It was very distracting to the missions I was running."

"Then Operations and Madeline tried other tactics to separate us. They sent us out on seduction missions. We slept with other people. This worked very well to alienate us from each other."

"Before Simone died, our marriage was in trouble. When we went out on the Glass Curtain mission, I was angry at Simone and *I* made the decision not to have backup when she asked for it. I wanted to prove a point -- that I was in control. But the truth of the matter was that *Section* was in control. We know that now, don't we?" Michael looked into Nikita's eyes, acknowledging that she knew what he meant.

Nikita began to speak, but Michael placed his fingers against her lips to quiet her. "Nikita, they already know there is something between us. I cannot bear to face the same kind of pain I faced with Simone. I will not survive it. I would prefer to live just knowing you are alive, and give up the chance of being with you this way, than submit us to the heartbreak I've known before."

And there it was -- Michael's truth. He had explained it as clearly and as gently as he could.

Nikita laid there looking into his eyes for many long minutes as she mentally processed his fears and tried to understand them. Their fingers were still laced together and she rolled over on her back to look at the ceiling. She lifted his hand to her lips and kissed his fingers gently before resting his hand over her heart. She looked over at him with a wistful smile, shaking her head.

"Michael ... if we continue on your way, you think we aren't going to have pain? We have it now. You think that we won't worry about each other on missions? We worry now. You think we aren't going to be hurt because Section makes us, mostly you, have sex with other people? Don't we have that now?" She looked at him questioningly ... begging him to give her a better answer ... one that she hadn't already considered.

"Nikita, why won't you understand how hard it will be?" he sighed deeply and looked away from her.

Nikita took a deep breath and as tears formed in her eyes, she sadly said, "I do understand Michael ... it's hard *now.* And, I understand that I cannot go on this way. I understand that you will not change, so let me do what I have to do." She got up out of the bed and wrapped her robe tightly around her body. "Maybe it would be better if you go now," she whispered, not looking at him.

His heart broke. He could not bear to hear these words from her ... his Nikita ... was she going to end her life? He could not allow that ... he wouldn't allow it. And she knew it! She *knew* he would never allow her to leave him. Just then, he became irritated and lifted up to sit on the bed, a slow rage beginning in his eyes.

Nikita, looked over at him and became distracted. He was so beautiful to her ... his bare chest glistening in the moonlight, his hair curled recklessly around his face, his strong, masculine features defining his very being.

"No! ... I'm *not* leaving!" he said defiantly. "Jesus, you're a pain in the ass," he said angrily. "Merde, Nikita, why do you have to be so damn stubborn? Now please, get over here and get in bed with me. Jesus Christ." He was enraged, but as he looked over and saw her slowly smile -- that brilliant, sexy, smile -- he knew then that his truth had been a lie. She was right ... they needed more ... he needed more ... he needed her, and he had to have her. Nikita was all there was for him, he realized. No matter what the price, he would pay it.

She slowly sauntered over to him, purposely swaying her hips, biting her lower lip seductively, allowing the belt of the silken robe to loosen so that soon he could see her ivory skin beneath, and in the shadows of the silk, her femininity calling out to him.

Nikita pushed him down on the bed and climbed on top of him. She stretched her body over his and moved in closely until their lips nearly touched. He could feel her cool skin rubbing against his. She laced her fingers into his hair while gently stroking his temples with her soft fingertips. "Michael ... if you want me, you will do as I ask. Do you agree?" she challenged.

He waited, took a deep breath, and stared deeply into her shimmering eyes. "What are your terms?" he asked sarcastically, smiling slightly. This will be interesting, he mused.

"You must make love to me at least once a month. You must send me flowers on my birthday. You will spend Christmas with me. You must promise to try to understand my point of view. You will always hate it when you have to seduce another woman for Section. You must request me for every mission you can so that we will be together as much as possible. Then, you must promise to kiss me and touch me when there is no surveillance. You must love me forever as I will love you. These are my conditions ... do you accept?" she asked sheepishly.

Slowly, he smiled at her ... she was the one ... the only one he could ever love. "Yes, my love ... I accept," admitting that finally, he was facing the truth.

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

Epilogue - Trudy

Two weeks had passed since their life-altering night together. Michael was in Singapore and she had been working with Birkoff on tracking missions from the comm center.

Nikita left Section in early evening to walk home. She passed the park where they had first talked and remembered saying she wished she had never come back to him.

So much had changed since then. The morning after their fateful night, Michael left promising to try anew -- and so far he had made progress, she thought lovingly. Before he left for his mission, Michael called her into his office, activated the scrambler and pushed her into the shadowed corner, kissing her long and deep. It was then that he told her that he loved her and to be "a good girl -- stay out of trouble." She smiled at this recollection and looked up at the blue sky. Maybe it would work out between them. She knew she hadn't asked too much of him -- only what she thought he could manage.

She laughed to herself at some of the efforts he was making for her.

Two mornings ago, Birkoff turned to her and quietly said "Nikita, there's an encrypted message for you." When he unscrambled it on her monitor, all it said was "Miss You." She quickly looked around and was relieved to see that no one was nearby but Birkoff. As she looked shyly at him, he peeked over his glasses and smiled mischievously at her. Then he quickly erased the message.

Well, Michael was trying, she thought fondly ... and it was all she wanted, and needed from him.

Nikita opened the door to her apartment and switched on the light. As she turned around, she stopped abruptly to see two dozen red roses laced with baby's breath overflowing in a crystal vase on the counter. She opened the card and a hotel key fell out. Her cheeks flushed in excitement and her heart leapt when she read the note:

"It's a new month. Meet me in an hour. M."

The End

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