The movie theater was packed. It was a Friday night and the crowd bustled in, finding their seats. The aisles were filled with couples, some holding hands, some with their arms around each other. Everyone seemed to have a partner to snuggle with while watching the movie.

It was a very romantic story, after all.

Ginny sighed as she entered the theater. She was seeing the film alone-- again. She propelled her wheelchair down the aisle toward the row where some seats had been removed to accomodate wheelchairs. Usually she was the only disabled person there. But not this time.

The open space was occupied tonight by a man in a wheelchair. Ginny could see from her view from down the aisle that he had long hair. Pretty hair, she thought, that fell in thick waves to his shoulders. He wore a black coat and was pulling off his gloves as he looked around the theater.

Their eyes met. "Excuse me," she said. "Do you mind if I sit here next to you?"

"Not at all," he answered, and maneuveured his chair over a little to allow her more room.

"Thanks," said Ginny, settling into the spot next to him and putting the brakes on the wheelchair on both sides.

She looked down nervously, then back up at him, unsure whether to say anything more. He might like to spend the time waiting for the movie to start in silence.

She saw that he was smiling. "I don't want to give away the whole plot or anything," he said in a conspiratorial whisper, "but I hear that the ship hits an iceberg and sinks..." His green eyes gleamed impishly.

"No, REALLY?" said Ginny, pretending to be surprised. "Now you've RUINED it for me....."

She grinned. "This is my third time seeing it and I was hoping it would have a different ending this time...."

He smiled. "I'm Michael," he said, stretching out his hand.

She shook it. "I'm Ginny. Nice to meet you."

"Same here." He released her hand.

"You know, you may not think it was so nice to meet me when I start crying...."she said, still smiling.

"You cry at movies?" he asked.

"Me and everyone else at THIS movie! Geez, you should hear the grown men sobbing their hearts out." She nodded. "Trust me-- this is about a five Kleenex movie.."

"You can use my handkerchief if you need to," he offered, smiling gently.

"Oh, no! I wouldn't dream of it! You'll need it yourself, I'm sure.."

"No, I won't," Michael reassured her. "I can handle it."

"Mmmm, a tough guy, huh?" She smiled. "Why are you watching this movie if you're not out for a heavy sentimental fix?"

He looked at and smiled slyly, saying nothing.

"Never mind! I know... Kate Winslett!" Ginny waved her hand at him. "Say no more.."

"I hear she displays her jewelry and other assets charmingly..."

Ginny giggled. "Well, that's one way of putting it.."

He laughed. "Leonardo is very appealing to the ladies, I hear," Michael commented.

"Oh yeah, I guess. He IS somewhat dreamy. But I prefer my men just a little bit older. You know, someone who graduated from high school before 1997..." She laughed. "I do have my standards..."

"Good," said Michael in a sensuous voice. "I'm very glad to know I meet the standard required to be one of those lucky men of yours..."

She looked up, startled. He sounded so serious all of a sudden. She shrugged, brushing it off as just another teasing remark, and changed the subject.

"The underwater scenes really steal the show, too. The footage is incredible.."

He nodded. "Yes, it was not your typical recreational dive, that's for sure..."

"You got that right!" She said. "Do you scuba?"

He looked down and his hands gripped the arms of his wheelchair. An expression of deep sadness crossed his face. "Not since I've been in this chair," he said.

"Oh, but that shouldn't stop you!" Ginny put her hand on his arm. "I still dive."

"You do?"

"Sure. You just get a specially certified Dive Master and they assign you an extra dive buddy,' Ginny told him. "For me, diving is almost exactly the same.."

"Really?" he said.

"Yeah, really." Ginny grinned. "I'm still a lousy swimmer, my hair still gets caught under my mask, and the wet suit is still a pain in the ass to get into.."

Michael laughed. "That gives me encouragement. Maybe I should go with you the next time you go."

"Sure. That would be great!"

They beamed at each other as the movie started.

Ginny lost herself in the action on the screen. At one point she was reaching into her purse to get her Kleenex when Michael put his hand over hers.

"Here," he said, offering her his handkerchief.

She thanked him and took it.

Ginny raptly watched the movie while Michael watched her. Surely, it seemed to him, this attractive, intelligent woman could not be the terrorist Section One thought her to be.

At the next sad part he took her hand in his and squeezed it in sympathy. They held hands throughout the rest of the movie.

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

"My favorite part," said Ginny, reaching for another piece of pizza, "is when she is restored to her former beauty, along with everyone on the ship, and she's reunited with them and with her lover--- and they're both whole again.."

Her eyes gleamed at him from across the table. They were in the restaurant not far from the movie theater where Michael had invited her after the movie.

Michael's face fell. "Yes, it would be nice to be whole again." He thought of his childhood and of how he was now. How long had it been since he was able to just be who he was without all the lies and deceptions?

"Too bad they were only able to achieve that wholeness in death," he went on. "The movie wasn't exaggerating that part..."

"Hey, that's not what I meant!" She put her hand on his. "Michael, wholeness is a state of the soul, not the body..."

"Is it?" he said bitterly. Michael thought of Section One. He was as entrapped in it as much as Ginny was entrapped in her wheelchair.

"Yes, DUMMY, yes!" Ginny leaned forward and spoke rapidly, excited. "They were in love! Do you think if he had lived and been injured, been in a chair, that it would have mattered to her? Or that if she had been disfigured, that he would have loved her any less?"

Ginny sighed and leaned back in her chair. "They were whole because they were together, reunited...."

Michael smiled at her. "You are a romantic.." he teased.

"O.K.," she said a little defensively, "Tell me this. If all she cared about was the outer stuff, the appearances, the money, she would have been happy with her fiance, right?"

She nodded her head. "He had all the outer things, but inside..."

"Inside he was dead," said Michael. "He had an ugly soul..."

"Yes, exactly!" Ginny said, smiling.

Michael thought of Nikita. Ginny was right. He loved Nikita's beauty, but the times that came to mind when he loved her the most were not when she was beautifully dressed with every hair in place, although he did admire her then, as always.

He thought of her how she had looked in the cage when they were prisoners of Red Cell. Her face was torn and bleeding, her voice was hoarse and anguished. On her knees she had cried out the location of Section One's new command center to save his life..

Nikita loved him, he knew that. And in that moment, he realized how much he loved her...

"Here, have a Kleenex," said Ginny, noting the tears on his cheek. "I knew that movie would get to you. You're just having a delayed reaction.."

"Yes, I guess so.."

She put her hand on his arm again. "Michael, I can tell you haven't been in that chair too long.."

God, he thought, he had survived twelve years in Section. And he hadn't adjusted to it. He was stifled, crippled, his soul was stolen...

Michael looked up at her. "Are you saying I'll get used to it?"

"No! No, I'm not saying that." She shook her head. "This sucks. There's nothing fun about it. There's nothing easy about it.."

She paused. "What I'm saying is , you are in a dehumanizing situation. But don't confuse that with not being human still, and you'll be all right.."

Michael squeezed her hand. There was no way this woman was selling government secrets to terrorists, he thought. Section's intel had to be wrong about that. If she was part of it, it was without her knowledge, he was sure of it.

Michael spoke softly. "That helped. What you said. Thank you.."

Ginny smiled. "You're a very strong man, you know. Very brave..."

The mischievious glint in her eye was back. "You let me cry all over your handkerchief all night and then you endured me talking philosophy, and you're still here! You haven't run away screaming yet..."

She smiled. "I'm impressed.."

Michael laughed. Her hand still lay in his, and he began caressing her fingers. Looking into her eyes, he said, "So am I. Very impressed.."

She was startled into speechlessness. Her eyes widened.

"Ginny, I'd like to see you again, if that's O.K.?" Michael smiled diffidently. "Tell me what other factors you require in a suitor-- do I meet your standards?"

Ginny smiled and relaxed, laughing a little. "Besides being out of puberty, you mean?"

He nodded.

"Well, let's see. Being male is good.." She grinned. "I do have my standards.."

"I think I qualify on that one." Michael grinned back.

"Yes, you do." Her eyes held the twinkle again. "Let's see. Green eyes. I can do gorgeous green eyes.."

He smiled. "And?"

She caressed a lock of his hair. "Thick wavy hair is nice...."

"I'm O.K. so far..." He nodded again.

"AND..." she leaned forward, whispering. "He has to be a good kisser..."

She touched his lips with her fingertips. He kissed them.

She held still, suddenly becoming shy. He was looking at her very intently.

"O.K.," she said, leaning back in her chair. "That settles it. You can see me again..."

"Tomorrow?" he said eagerly.

She laughed. "Sure. What would you like to do?"

"Anything you want," he replied. "But no cruises on ships on maiden voyages.."

"No, definitely not!" She laughed. "No boat trips!"

"Oh!" Her face fell. "I just remembered. "There's something I have to do tomorrow. Out of town..." She looked up at him.

"I'm free all day," said Michael. "Maybe I can go with you."

She smiled shyly. "That would be great. I'd love that."

"I have an appointment," she explained. "But that shouldn't take too long. And afterwards we could shop or have dinner or.."

"See a movie again?" he said.

"You want to see it again?" she asked in delight. "Really?"

"Yes. Kate was quite lovely.."

She threw a piece of her breadstick at him in mock disgust. Smiling, she said, "An honest man! Honest, but shallow..."

"You have something against shallow people? It's a handicap of mine.." he said innocently.

She giggled. "Well, I might be able to put up with shallow if the kissing is good enough..."

He blew her a kiss across the table. "Find out tomorrow," he said.

Tomorrow was when the information was scheduled to be traded with Red Cell.

They laughed together and Michael leaned toward her, carefully placing the tracker in her purse that was sitting on the table.

Yes, he thought, tomorrow should prove to be an interesting day.

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

Michael paced in his apartment early the next morning. He glanced at the wheelchair in the corner that he knew he would have to spend another day in. He hated the idea of getting back into that chair.

At least he had the option of getting out of it, unlike some people did, he thought.

That wasn't the only thought that bothered him and prompted his restless pacing. Ginny. Why would Ginny be involved with Red Cell? Their intel said the next drop, the exchange of money for microchips, would be today.

Their unfortunate undercover Agency informant had only had time to give them today's date and Ginny's name before he was killed. That was the only information they had to go on.

Michael's instincts told him that they must be wrong about her. Ginny was not the type of person to betray her country and sell information to terrorists.

Someone was using her.

The chair, he thought. Perhaps they were using her because of the chair, using it to transport the missing micro-chips. He would have to find a way to search it. Ginny trusted him. He would find a way.

Michael grimaced. Why was it that everyone who trusted him wound up hurt?

He sighed and walked to the chair in the corner. It was time.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Ginny opened the door at his knock, and wheeled her chair backwards, allowing him entry. Michael wheeled himself in.

"Good morning," she greeted him, smiling. "Want some coffee?"

"Sure," he said, smiling back. "Thanks."

She turned and headed for the kitchen.The apartment was spacious and bright, with several tall windows which let in the light. The kitchen was painted a cheery yellow and houseplants flourished everywhere.

The counters were lower than usual, but they were just the right height for her chair. Michael realized the whole apartment had been customized for her, or someone like her. Someone who must view life from the height of a wheelchair.

She poured the coffee for him in a ceramic mug and brought it to him. They sat at the kitchen table across from each other.

"Thanks," he said again, taking a sip of his coffee. Time was short, Michael knew he would have to get right to the point.

"Tell me about this appointment you have," he began.

She stared down into her own coffee mug, looking uncomfortable. She said nothing.

"Sorry," apologized Michael. "I didn't mean to pry into your personal business..."

"No, it's O.K.," Ginny said. "You're not prying. It's just sort of embarrassing to admit..." She blushed.

"I see." Michael nodded solemnly. "You hired a detective to check me out.."

He grinned. "You wanted to find out if I told you the truth."

"You want to know if my hair is really naturally curly," he teased. "And if my eyes are really green or if I deceived you by wearing contacts.."

"I'm ..... I'm going to see a doctor," she said quietly.

"Oh, no," he said, still teasing. It's worse than I thought. You want the doctor to check me out and see if I'm really a male.."

"Michael!" She finally laughed. "You're BAD! No, I'm very sure of that..."

"Then what is it? What's wrong?" he took her hand.

"You're going to think I'm some kind of hypocrite or something...." she said.

Ginny looked up at him. "After all my talk about accepting things, and the physical stuff not mattering.."

"Did we talk about that?" Michael put on a puzzled look. "I thought we discussed Kate Winslett's attributes..."

"I'm serious, Michael."

Michael squeezed her hand. "What is it? Tell me."

She took a deep breath. "I know this sounds foolish and desperate, but I'm going to this doctor because he might be able to help me walk again.."

She leaned forward. "Everyday there's new research, new technology. And this doctor is on the cutting edge of it. I go see him several times a month and he checks my progress and consults with the visiting doctors.."

"What is this treatment, exactly?" asked Michael, his voice tense.

"It's very high tech. There's only one prototype, and I'm the first test subject." She paused, and a determined look came over her face.

"I know I'm being studied like a lab rat. It's dehumanizing and painful, but I feel I have to do this. For me, and for the others like me that can be helped," she finished earnestly.

Michael looked grim. "Is it working?"

"Well, there's been no change so far. But Dr. Edwards says it's too early for that yet." She paused. "Do you still respect me?"

Michael looked at her tenderly and brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them. "More than ever," he said sincerely.

Ginny smiled, relieved. "Do you still want to go with me? Maybe Dr. Edwards can help you, too."

"Of course I want to go with you," answered Michael. "What kind of therapy is this, exactly? Why is it painful?"

She looked at him silently for a moment and then wheeled back from the table and stopped her chair next to his. She pulled up her shirt from the right side and at the same time pushed down the waistband of her slacks.

There was an angry, red swollen lump about three inches square above her right hip. It looked like a small box had been implanted underneath her skin.

"They're trying it in this leg first," explained Ginny. "I don't understand it all, really, but it involves microchips. You know, to send the nerves messages.."

Michael's jaw clenched. He felt like crying again. Ginny's trips for "treatment" were when the chips were exchanged. The visiting "doctors" were probably the buyers from Red Cell.

Michael prayed there was a special hell reserved for people who exploited the hopes and dreams of others. He couldn't wait to meet Dr. Edwards.

He wished he could avoid involving the innocent Ginny any further. But she needed to make her rendezvous as scheduled.

"I think I'd like to go in with you and talk to Dr. Edwards, if that's all right with you?" Michael said softly.

She beamed at him and lowered her head shyly. "I'm so happy about that, about everything," she said.

She excused herself to go get her sweater from the bedroom. When she was out of sight, Michael pulled out his cell phone to call Section One.

He put the phone back in his pocket, an expression of grim satisfaction on his face. "Dr. Edwards" was going down.

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

In the corridor outside Dr. Edwards' office, Michael stopped Ginny from going in.

"Wait a minute, please," he said.

She pivoted her chair to look back at him. "Yes, Michael?"

Ginny saw his face. A struggle was going on inside him.

"Are you nervous? Squeamish?" she asked. "I can meet you later if you don't want to come in..."

In the last few minutes through his comm link, Michael had heard all the Section operatives reporting in. The building was surrounded and more operatives were stationed inside in the hallways and in nearby offices.

Michael knew this was the last moment he would have with Ginny.

He wheeled his chair parallel to hers, so that though their chairs pointed in opposite directions, they were face to face.

"No," he said. "I still want to come with you. I just wanted to tell you.."

He took her hand in his. "I think you're a very brave woman..."

Ginny laughed. "Yeah, right! Where were you last night? Didn't you see me cringing during the scary scenes in the movie?"

She shook her head. "I'm the world's biggest chicken.."

He gripped her hand tightly. "No," said Michael urgently, his eyes meeting hers. "No, you're not. You are a beautiful, strong person with a beautiful soul..."

He kissed her, leaning across the arms of their chairs. Ginny was stunned for a moment, then responded, resting her hand on his shoulder and pulling him as close as she could.

The kiss was not light and playful like his teasing had been that morning. His mouth moved on hers with determination, as if he were trying to communicate everything to her in just a few moments- his regard, his respect, his affection, his neediness, his regret.

He kissed her as if she could bestow on him some of her wholeness, as if her fine soul could heal his broken one.

Ginny kissed him back, sensing somehow that in that moment, Michael was the weaker one of the two, impossible as that seemed. She kissed him tenderly, givingly, as if to impart to him the strength that he was seeking.

The kiss ended and she rested her head against Michael's shoulder. "Well," she said softly, "You definitely qualify in the kissing department..' Her words were teasing but her tone was serious.

She stroked his cheek. "You can be my man, Michael. Mine from now on.."

He held her tightly. "Yes, I'm yours. Remember that.."

He admired her more than almost anyone he had ever met. He would try to do what he could for her, to protect her in any way he could. He regretted that the ways in which he could help her would bring her more pain.

He kissed her lightly on the lips and released her. Smiling, he said, "Come, don't let me make you late for your appointment.."

She smiled back. "You're right. We have the whole day together, right?"

Ginny was so incredibly happy. She spun her chair around with a flourish and with a little laugh, rushed ahead of him into the doctor's office. She didn't see the grim expression on Michael's face behind her.

And she didn't see him take gun from his jacket and aim it at her.

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

Michael aimed the gun carefully at Ginny and fired, the tranq dart hitting her just below the back of her neck. She pitched sharply forward, the force of the impact propelling her out of the chair.

Michael was up and out of his own chair instantly, and caught her before she fell.

Cradling her limp body gently in his arms, Michael carried Ginny to the far corner of the waiting room. He placed her with great care on the floor behind a heavy couch, knowing she would be out of the line of fire there.

He paused to check his weapon again, making sure it was loaded with a full complement of trang darts. He wished he could use hard ammo on Dr. Edwards and his cohorts, but Section wanted them alive.

Into his comm unit he said softly, "Birkoff, I'm in. All teams, twenty seconds."

"Acknowledged," came the answer in his ear in Birkoff's calm voice.

It turned out that twenty seconds was all he needed.

The glass partition to the reception desk was closed and the area behind it was empty.

Leaning his head close to the inner door, Michael could hear voices coming from inside the office. He could distinguish at least four different men's voices. Their discussion sounded cordial, and at least one of them was laughing.

He turned the knob to the door slowly and silently pushed it open, stepping into the hallway.

No one stopped him. Dr. Edwards apparently had grown complacent about security. With only the trusting Ginny to deal with, no doubt Dr. Edwards had decided that heavy back-up was not necessary.

The laughter came again from the open door of an office two doors down from Michael. He went into action.

In just a few seconds he had covered the distance to the office door and kicked it all the way open. He entered, firing.

Five men looked up at him with stunned expressions on their faces. Two of them tried to draw their weapons, but Michael's tranq darts felled them before they could return fire.

It was quiet. The five men, all dressed in lab coats and badges identifying them as doctors, were no longer laughing. They lay slumped on the floor or collapsed across pieces of furniture.

"Targets secured," reported Michael.

He could hear noise in the outer office. It was B-Team entering.

Michael checked each unconscious form in the room, scrutinizing each man's name tag carefully until he found the one he wanted.

The B-Team leader, Wilson, was the first to reach the door. "The building's clear, Sir," he told Michael.

"Good," came the terse answer. Michael was holding one of the "doctors" up by the neck in a sitting position in the chair behind the desk. His name tag read "Dr. N. Edwards, M.D."

Wilson spoke to his team in the hallway behind him. "Get these slime to the van," he ordered.

"Just a minute," said Michael. The men stopped. They watched as Michael slammed Dr. Edwards' head down hard against the desk. Then he pulled the man's head back up by his hair and hauled him up until he was almost standing.

Michael punched the doctor hard in the ribs, twice. Then, releasing his grip on the doctor's hair, Michael watched in satisfaction as Edwards fell forward, his head slamming into the edge of the desk again.

"He was resisting," said Michael in a calm, even voice.

Wilson grinned. "Sure looked like it to me," he said, his blue eyes wide and innocent.

Wilson winked at Michael. "Are the microchips secured?" he asked.

"I'll take care of it," Michael answered.

He left B-Team to their work and went out to the waiting room. An operative was there, standing guard over Ginny. He looked up at Michael, awaiting orders.

"Bring her chair," he told him. The man nodded and moved to obey.

Michael knelt next to Ginny and very carefully lifting her in his arms, carrying her to the van. Once inside, he settled her across his lap, her face nestled against his shouder, his arms around her protectively.

She lay like that, cradled in Michael's embrace, all the way back to Section.

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

Ginny groaned as she came slowly and reluctantly awake. Pain seared her insides. The space above her right hip throbbed mercilessly, as if some gremlins within her were pulling on her flesh from the inside.

She grimaced, squinting her eyes shut. The wave of pain lessened for a moment and she let out a sigh and opened her eyes.

It was a sterile white hospital room. She groaned again. God, how she hated hospitals. What was she doing here? Where was Michael?

Ginny turned her head and met the eyes of a lovely, dark-haired woman standing next to her bed. The woman smiled at her sweetly.

"Hello. How are you feeling?" said Madeleine.

"Side... hurts....." Ginny gasped out. The pain was making it difficult to speak, or even think clearly. She was still groggy and disoriented. Ginny blinked several times to clear the fog in her head.

"That's understandable," Madeleine went on in a sympathetic tone. "You've had a difficult time of it..."

"What.. happened?" said Ginny, blinking again, trying to focus.

"You collapsed and fell on the implant in your hip. The unit was crushed and shattered inside you. It had to be removed," lied Madeleine.

Madeleine's smile tightened. She had seen so much of the ugly side of humanity, of cruelty; she had inflicted much of it herself. It took her by surprise when what was done to Ginny had affected her so.

Her smile grew slightly. She had vented her feelings satisfactorily by doing an extra thourough debriefing of "Dr. Edwards."

He had turned out to be the middle man, the broker behind the exchanges. Edwards had given up all his informants in the government as well as all his buyers in Red Cell.

All in all, it had been a very productive day.

Ginny was the last loose end left to tie up. Madeleine looked down at the woman on the bed.

"You're going to be fine," Madeleine told her. "You should make a complete recovery from the gas as well. You've been very lucky today."

Ginny struggled not to panic. Something in the tone of Madeleine's words terrified her. She shook her head vigorously to clear it and used all her concentration to focus on Madeleine.

"What do you mean?" she asked, trembling. "What gas?"

"There was a gas leak in the section of the building you were in," explained Madeleine. "Dr. Edwards and his staff were already dead before you got there. "

"You would have been killed, too, if it weren't for your friend, Michael," Madeleine finished.

Ginny felt like she couldn't breathe. A horrible feeling of dread and despair washed over her.

"Michael!" she gasped out, sobbing. "Please, where's Michael?"

Madeleine patted her arm sympathetically. "I'm sorry, my dear," she said. "He didn't make it."

A different kind of pain, more overwhelming than any physical kind she had ever suffered, engulfed her. An anguished, wordless cry was torn from her throat. Tears rolled down her cheeks and Ginny clenched the sheets tightly in her fists to keep from screaming.

Madeleine knew Ginny liked heroes, so she gave her one.

"We think the only reason you survived was that your friend realized the danger and shoved you out into the hallway, where you fell."

Madeleine patted her arm again. "He must have succumbed to the gas before he could get out himself.."

Ginny screamed then, twisting sideways on the bed. She covered her face with her hands. Her whole body shook with the deep, wracking sobs that were forced from within her.

She felt she was spiralling down into an abyss, a bottomless black hole of pain and grief.

"Michael, no... No! Michael!" She called to him from the abyss, but she knew he would never hear her.

Madeleine stepped forward and adjusted the dial on the I.V. stand, releasing the sedative to enter through the needle in Ginny's arm.

Ginny slowly quieted, her sobs growing weaker. "Michael.." she whispered.

Before she lost consciousness, an image appeared before her. She saw Michael, able to walk again. He was smiling, his soul and body restored to wholeness.

He was happy and free from pain, and with the people he loved, and who loved him.

She let out a deep sigh. Ginny prayed that the image was true, that Michael was really all right. She wanted to believe that his soul was not dead, that he was alive somewhere, somehow....

A feeling of peace stole over her. Closing her eyes, she relaxed, succumbing to the drug, and slept.

Michael, who had been watching her from the observation window, leaned his head against the cold glass and closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Ginny," he said softly.

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

Michael straightened from the observation window as he heard the door open. He turned to see Madeleine approaching him, a look of sympathy on her face.

"She's a strong person, Michael. Like you described her. She'll be fine."

Michael only nodded.

"We'll release her later today."

"Good," he said tersely.

Madeleine regarded Michael thoughtfully. Somehow she sensed he did not yet feel a sense of closure about this mission, that he needed something more.

"What is it, Michael?" said Madeleine, meeting his gaze.

Michael scanned her face for a minute, trying to read it. Apparently what he saw there satisfied him, and he decided to go ahead with his request.

He pulled a PDA out of his coat pocket and handed it to her. "I've gathered all the current information about legitimate research into restoring nerve function in people with spinal cord injuries."

Madeleine raised one eyebrow. "Go on," she said.

"There is an excellent program at a university not far from where Ginny lives, in a neighboring state." Michael took a deep breath. "I'd like to arrange for her to be enrolled for treatment there."

Madeleine smiled. "Sounds simple enough. We'll take care of it."

Michael nodded. "There's something else..."

"Yes, what is it?"

Michael hesitated. He had wanted to give Ginny some kind of compensation for helping Section, like the money he had managed to give Lisa Fanning. But there had been no time nor opportunity to do the same for Ginny.

It was not so much guilt as his sense of fairness that made him ask for a reward on Ginny's behalf now. That, and her encouragement for him to remember he was still human.

He was determined to try to do that from now on.

"The program isn't funded very well," Michael answered. "They could make strides so much faster if..."

"If they had a few more million dollars?" finished Madeleine, smiling.

"Yes." Michael gave her a pleading look.

Madeleine couldn't remember the last time Michael had asked for anything for himself or anyone else. That it was incredibly important to him was evident.

Madeleine turned to look through the observation window. She gazed thoughtfully at the sleeping Ginny for a few moments. Obviously Michael felt a need to be a hero to her in some real way, beyond the illusory cover story they had fed her.

She made a decision. " Very well, Michael. Since the Agency does not know the exact amount that Red Cell was paying for the information, let's just give them a figure several million lower than is really the case, shall we?"

Michael let out the breath he was holding. The tension in his shoulders eased. "Thank you," he said.

Madeleine nodded and strolled down the corridor back to her office. Unlike Operations, who believed scolding and threats of cancellation were the best way to control his operatives, she believed it didn't hurt to reward them every now and again.

It was something else to use against them. Knowing her operatives' weaknesses was always a good thing.

She smiled to herself. Yes. all in all, it had been a very successful mission.

Michael stayed at the window and put his hand on the thick glass. "Bon Chance," he whispered to Ginny.

He hoped she would find the freedom from her imprisonment that she was seeking. He knew he would never be free of his, but Ginny had given him new hope that he would somehow be able to endure it, his life in Section.

An overwhelming sense of longing rose in his chest. More than anything, he wanted to see Nikita, to hear her voice, to just be with her. Maybe he would get the courage to ask her out.

Michael smiled just a little to himself. I wonder if she cries at movies? he thought.

With a sudden lightness in his step, he turned and walked quickly down the corridors of Section One.

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