The front door closes softly, and Michael leans against it as he closes his own tired eyes as the two shoes that Nikita was wearing pound against the bedroom door. Michael leans his head against the wooden door, held as if he was metal and the door was a magnet. Off in the distance, slamming drawers are heard, stomping feet, a couple punches into the cement walls, and then finally the turning on of water.

Michael creeps away from the door slowly, and his shoulder hang low as he moves to the kitchen to make some tea. He looks at the water and sees the image of the target of this night's mission. He pushes the container away, but then returns to it, with the knowledge that it was just a mission.

Nikita stood outside the shower, being repelled by the water. It brought the images of the mission back easily. Nikita touched the water, and with the recognition that the water was warmer than it was before, allows Nikita to enter the shower. She allows the water to run down her head and she never notices that she has only took off her shoes.

Michael swallows hard as he opens the refrigerator for some cream, and sees a huge red tomato, which started the entire mission. Nikita was a decoy, and all they had to do was to distract the target long enough to access the files. Nikita was on a date with him at his house, and the target, with his flabby features had feed Nikita pieces of tomato slowly, and letting some juice dribbling over her chin. He leaned down and cleaned off the chin.

Michael picks up the tomato and throws it away. He should have retrieved the information quicker, and it was all of his fault.

Nikita leans forward in a daze. She could almost feel the hands roaming over her body now, although it is clothed this time. She tried to find other ways to distract the target, but it was impossible. Nikita lets the water hit at the jointure of her neck to her back, hoping to feel numb from there down. She hadn't tried hard enough.

Michael sips at the tea, and notices how cold it is now. He turns his head and hears the water is still running. Nikita had done the debriefing pretty well, but spoke not a word to Michael. He was sure she was hating him for not working quicker, for not stopping the acts before they happened. And Michael hated himself for those exact reasons and one more, that he had let Nikita down.

Nikita starts to crumble as she slides down with her hands on the tiled wall. She pauses with her chin on the bathtub faucet. Her lips tremble as she remembers the kisses that were not those from Michael. She grabs the soap and stands up. She starts to scrub, hard. She starts with her forearm, rubbing back and forth furiously. The water is beginning to turn cold, as she starts the next arm. The arm she left is cherry red, and then she moves to her legs. Scrubbing and scrubbing. Nikita places the soap down, and starts to wash her hair. She pours twice the amount of shampoo she usually does onto her hair and starts to use her nails toughly on her sculpt. Then, as Nikita allows the shampoo to rinse out of her hair, she grabs for the soap again, to restart the process again.

Michael sets the cup into the sink and tries to run some hot water into it, so that the left over sugar is not hard to clean off the next morning. But he cannot get any hot water. As he turns off the sink, he still hears the shower, and thinks for a moment, that Nikita will be done soon, becauses she hates cold water. Michael closes his eyes as he remembers that Nikita had even said that during the mission as the target led Nikita into the shower. "I hate cold water." Nikita had said, and the target laughed, "We'll warm it up with our body heat."

Nikita continues to scrub when she notices that she hasn't been able to scrub her toes. The target had paid much attention to them. She sits down near the drain and pulls her feet towards her face and starts to scrub.

No, it has been too long, Michael finally says as he stands up and moves to the bathroom. On the bedroom floor, all he finds is the pair of shoes that Nikita had begged Madeline not to make her wear. Michael moved to the door, and at that moment, hated himself more than he has ever hated himself.

Nikita had her face on her knees. At some point, Nikita had taken off the red dress, which now layed on the shower floor in a clump. She wore a bra and underwear, and her limps shined cherry red from the scrubbing that she had given to herself. She turns her head and in that moment, hates that herself for letting Michael down, and knowing that she could have stopped the situation. She had not tried hard enough.

Michael moved over with an oversized towel, and turned off the water before he reached for Nikita. He wrapped her up in the huge towel, and lifted her into his arms. She turned her head away to hide her tears, and Michael softly placed her down on the bed.

Nikita grabbed her nightgown from Michael's hands and pulled it over her still damp body. Michael sat down on the edge of the bed and started to untangle Nikita's hair. Each time Michael pulled a bit to hard, Nikita whinced with the pain of her inability to stop the situation and to save Michael the pain of this now.

Michael tried to untangle her hair softly, but was not having such luck. Michael notes how Nikita had tried to wash the layers of skin off of her body. After achieving smooth hair, Michael moves over for the lotion that Madeline had given him, in a feeling that Nikita would do this behavior.

Nikita looks away as Michael touchs the lotion on her now sore, red arms and legs. Tears run down her face, but Nikita swears that all is her fault.

Michael cannot move his eyes away from Nikita, feeling that all of this is his fault. He had caused Nikita so much pain to begin with, but it never ended. He hurt her this time, and it was the heartwrenching pain that he swore he sould never go through again, but in the back of his head, he knew it would occur again.

"Night." Nikita says as she leans back in the bed. Michael moves over and rolls into bed with her. Nikita allows her eyes to meet Michael's and they pause.

"So we both think it is our own fault..." Nikita says as she leans up on an elbow. Michael looks at her and then looks away.

"Then... maybe.. we can just talk about in the morning.. and you can comfort me by letting me hold you and I can comfort you by holding you." Michael says, and he helps Nikita back in bed.

The understandment was made. There would be no conversation in the morning. The target was dead, and did not danger Michael and Nikita. Their love had survived Section, and it would continue to survive, because if it didn't, neither continue to live.

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