Timeframe: Takes place during the episode "Nikita"

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If I expected love when first we kissed, blame it on my youth.
If only just for you I did exist, blame it on my youth.
I believed in everything like a child of three.
You meant more than anything--all the world to me.

If you were on my mind both night and day, blame it on my youth.
If I forgot to eat and sleep and play, blame it on my youth.
If I cried a little bit when first I learned the truth,
Please don't blame it on my heart, blame it on my youth.

"Blame It On My Youth" by Heyman and Levant, as performed by the Holly Cole Trio

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I can't believe I was that stupid. I've been in Section for two years. I should know how things work. I should have known that it was a test. For God's sakes, this isn't summer camp. It's more like a death camp.

I should have known.

Instead, I was blindsided. I thought we were having dinner. I thought you wanted to spend time with me. I guess I was deluded by a combination of hero worship and vanity. God knows I want you, and I'm sure you know. But I wanted you to want me. I wanted you to be proud of what I had accomplished. I wanted an oasis from the expectations and the threats and Operations' constant disapproval.

Instead, I get a gun and a terse set of instructions.

Damn you, Michael. And damn me for believing you. I should have known that nothing comes for free. Not even dinner.

I should have been stronger and never fallen for you. But I couldn't help it. The streets were so lonely. You can't trust anybody, not even your friends, because you're all hungry and cold and scared. After two years, I thought I could trust you, Michael.

Foolish me.

I don't know how you do it, though. How do you say one thing and mean something completely different? How do you lie with your mouth but tell the truth with your eyes? I bet Madeline taught you how to do that. She's taught me many things, but I haven't learned that particular lesson. I hope I never do.

But I'll have to, won't I, if I expect to survive in this place. This cold sterile place with its cold sterile people. A place of contradictions. Doing good by doing evil. Saving others by damning ourselves. Becoming the people we despise.

I had thought I was doing well. My scores on the firing range are in the 97th percentile. I can take down men twice my size. I thought I could do the job. I even thought I wanted to do the job. Because Michael wanted me to do the job. And I would have done anything you wanted me to.

I'm sure that's part of the training. It's in a manual somewhere--"Ensure that recruit and trainer develop a bond." It makes the material more obedient, more loyal. I wonder how many other women--and men--you've done this to. How many people have you made fall in love with you? How many people have you brought to a faceless apartment?

I thought living in Section was bad. Gray walls, cold metal everywhere. Well, now I have my new "home." No friends, but a host of fake identities, personalities to be donned at will as easily as a change of clothes. That's what you left me--that, and a pair of torn stockings. Ripped apart, inside and out.

But it's not your fault, really. You're just doing your job. I understand that. I'm the one to blame, for letting down my guard and being deceived by a pair of green eyes. Was there a pair of eyes for you too? Did you live to please someone? Did you have even the slightest bit of hope before Section beat it out of you?

Well, I've learned my lesson tonight, Michael, just as I'm sure you learned your lesson long ago. How does the old saying go? "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me." Whenever I'm tempted to believe you, I'll remember tonight. Whenever I see the pain lurking behind your eyes, I'll remember tonight. Because I'm sure you remember your own night fifteen years ago.

And you're nothing if not a good teacher.