Walter had a feeling of what was happening with Nikita and Michael. Michael had a pallet that was refined and delicate, more for cuisine that it was for food. There was a definite difference and Walter knew Nikita. She liked food. More often, comfort food.

Maybe it was because Walter had cooked for her before. It was hard to believe Walter cooking, as Michael showed that experience as he left the house. Yet, Walter cared for his Nikita and he remembered numerous times he would just arrive at Nikita's house and start cooking for her, like it was nothing. Nikita didn't eve mention it and Walter was sure that it brought Nikita some peace to be with one that knew her pretty well.

"WALTER!" Nikita cried out, not in pain and not in hurt, but for him to stop singing. He laughed and sighed. He was driving Nikita a bit insane, but there was a plan to his madness and he just couldn't stop the singing now. He was having too much fun, another element of his plan.

"Suddenly Seymour is standin' beside me...He don't give me orders. He don't condescend...Suddenly Seymour is here to provide me...sweet understanding. Seymour's my friend." Walter sang out and he heard the giggling in the room that he didn't quite see into. He walked out of the kitchen, turning off the stove and stared at Nikita.

"What is it?" Walter questioned and Nikita laughed at the sight in front of her. Walter was just standing there with his hands on his hips, which happened to be covered with fish gloves to stop the heat from hurting his hands, and his foot tapping that dirty and crusty leather boot up and down.

"You are making me think of Birkoff, Walter. You should watch what you are singing." Nikita said and Walter's smile dropped and then he smiled broadly.

"I forgot about that sugar.... That changes the whole song...." Walter said as he turned and went back to the kitchen, only lightly humming. He turned to the stove and picked up the pot of now just simmering water and walked back to the sink. He poured it out, straining the easy to prepare ravioli out of the water and into the colander.

"Suddenly Birkoff is standin' beside me... He don't give me orders. He don't condescend... Suddenly Birkoff is here to provide me... sweet understanding. Birkoff's my friend..." Walter sang out and the laughter from the living room provided to be too much. Walter dropped his head and started to laugh with Nikita. He made his way back out to look at Nikita and smiled.

"Definitely doesn't sound like the Birkoff I know." Nikita stated and Walter nodded his head and sighed.

"At least he is Birkoff and he is my friend." Walter said and Nikita rolled her eyes around as Walter wiped at the sweat that was building right underneath the bandanna that was still underneath the big and floppy chef hat. Walter shrugged his shoulders and moved back to the sink.

Once Walter had drained the water out of the food, he was almost done. He grabbed the bowl, placed some butter over the ravioli, and served it. He didn't want to put the heavy tomato sauce on it, since Nikita had not been eating. It might not help her stomach and the whole point was to make Nikita eat, not deter her from eating.

Walter pulled the hat off and grabbed a nice tall glass of milk, thinking that Nikita had to be getting tired of water by now and moved back to the living room, grabbing a fork on the way. Walter placed the glass of milk down and smiled at Nikita.

"One more song..." Walter said as he placed the dish down on a table that Nikita had struggled to set up, but she still did. Nikita rolled her eyes as Walter grabbed the fork and stepped back.

"Feed me. Feed me. Feed me.. Feed me, Walter. Feed me all night long...(That's right, boy! You can do it!) Feed me, Walter. Feed me all night long. (Ha, ha, ha, ha ha.) 'Cause if you feed me, Walter, I can grow up big and strong..." Walter sang out as he moved around and then plopped the fork down into the dish.

He waited as Nikita's eyes rolled up from her lowered head and stared at him. He waited for Nikita to grab the fork and dig in. Walter did expect some giggles, but not as many as Nikita did give him. He was sure that it was a diversion of types and he had to wonder why.

"Walter, what is with the Little Shop of Horrors? Do you know that is the only musical I know?" Nikita questioned and Walter shrugged his shoulders and leaned into Nikita and pushed the dish closer to her, hoping that Nikita would take the hint.

"Stick with me... and I'll education you... But you got to eat, sugar." Walter said and Nikita rolled her eyes and looked to the wall. There was sadness on her face now, knowing that Walter meant business and he was no longer going to play games with her.

"I'm not hungry." Nikita stated as she carefully sipped at the milk and set it back down. Walter shook his head and frowned and pulled a chair in from the dining room.

"I know you are hungry, sugar. You haven't had anything to really eat in days! You gotta eat." Walter exclaimed and Nikita shrugged her shoulders.

"Didn't anyone tell you that electricity does funny things to the body?" Nikita questioned and Walter rolled his eyes and leaned back lightly. He pulled the string to his apron and tore it off of his body. Nikita slowly swayed her head from side to side as tears started to form in her eyes. She knew that she had insulted Walter in a way, although Walter was overreacting just to get Nikita to eat.

"I slaved over that stove... making something I know that my sugar like and this is the thanks I get!" Walter said as he stood up and threw the apron down on the couch. Nikita looked at Walter as he turned around.

It was a beautiful sight to see Nikita to reach for the fork. It seemed like it was taking her much effort and Walter had been told that her motor skills were slow in returning. Yet, Walter almost wanted to scream, as it seemed like she was moving her hand through cement in order to get to the fork.

"Ouch!" Nikita hissed as her hand touched the fork and then jerked back. Walter blinked his eyes as she tried again and she clung the fork back down, screaming in pain again. Nikita turned her head away, ashamed of what happened and trying to hide, although there was no where for Nikita to go.

"Does it hurt to touch that metal, sugar?" Walter questioned and Nikita only kept her head down. Walter licked his lips and reached down for her chin, pulling it up to look at him.

"Do you get shocked when you touch the metal, sugar?" Walter questioned and Nikita nodded her head up and down. Walter swallowed and moved back to the kitchen. He didn't find any plastic silverware and he looked around sadly, knowing that Nikita wasn't eating because of this. It was something so minor and so easily explained, but yet Nikita felt ashamed for it to be occurring. Walter's heart went out to Nikita as he looked around the kitchen, knowing that he could find something to help Nikita out and then he stopped.

Walter moved back to the car that he had come in and grabbed a can of play-do and walked back into the kitchen. He grabbed a fork and molded the gooey substance on the handle and walked back to the living room. He placed it down into the dish and raised his older eyes at Nikita with a smile on his face. He was sure that this would work.

"What did you do? Put plastic explosives on the handle?" Nikita questioned and Walter forced a smile as he nodded his head from side to side.

"Sure, Sugar.... Stop playing around and try!" Walter said and Nikita touched the fork and smiled. She started to wrap her hand around and had successfully grabbed the fork when her hand just opened and dropped it again. Nikita looked at the fork and pushed at the dish.

"You know what, I really decided that I'm not really hungry." Nikita commented and Walter looked to the wall and swallowed. He cursed Nikita's stubbornness and cursed her pride. It was no problem for him to help Nikita like he was here to start with. He was sure that Michael wanted to help her too, and that he wouldn't belittle or berate her for asking for help with something that she needed to do, but still couldn't do.

"Is there something wrong with it? You haven't even tasted it." Walter said as he picked up the fork and speared the ravioli. He looked at the noodle and then turned his hand towards Nikita. Nikita shook her head back and forth as tears rolled out of her eyes.

"I'm not a baby." Nikita cried out and Walter dropped the fork down and touched Nikita's head. It only caused more tears to roll out of her eyes, spilling over her cheeks that had been well traveled with tears of late. Walter grabbed a towel and sponged away the tears and then held the cloth to her eyes, not able to see the tears rolling down Nikita's cheek without feeling his own eyes were going to explode with to match Nikita's.

"Look sugar... You need to eat... It doesn't matter how it occurs, as long as you eat." Walter softly stated as he pulled the towel away. He looked up at the ceiling as Nikita nodded her head and dutifully opened her mouth towards Walter. She took the bite and easily swallowed.

"As long as you don't tell Michael." Nikita firmly stated and Walter shook his head as a conflicted sigh vibrated from his mouth.

"Sugar.... Look, you are starving... I can't feed you quick enough..." Walter started to work on the process of building Nikita up to asking Michael for help. It was a huge step and Nikita had done it before whenever she was in some serious problems. Nikita just didn't realize that now was just a serious. She needed to eat and she wasn't doing so.

"I didn't know I was this hungry." Nikita stated and Walter nodded his head as he picked up two ravioli and quickly shoveled it to Nikita's mouth. All of a sudden, Nikita became like a vacuum cleaner and she grabbed at the roll. She broke pieces off as she looked at Walter. He picked up the dish and ran back to the kitchen.

"You are just like a donkey.... Too stubborn to say your hungry until you start eating...." Walter said as he poured the rest of the ravioli into the dish and headed back to Nikita to find that the entire roll was gone that quickly. Nikita smiled as she chewed happily.

"I can eat sandwiches.... Why doesn't Michael give me those?" Nikita questioned and Walter sat down on the couch and handed her the dish. He leaned over and continued to feed Nikita as her question still circulated in his mind.

"Have you asked for them?" Walter questioned as he grabbed the napkin and wiped at Nikita's now butter chin. Nikita laughed and then looked at Walter, seeing that he wanted an answer.

"I can't ask him, Walter..." Nikita softly said and Walter dropped his head back. He didn't want to be sneaky in all of this, but he had to do what was best for Nikita. Walter continued to feed Nikita, knowing that he had to do something.

*

The ovens were off in the store but the store felt as if Mr. Papappas was still baking. He turned around and closed his eyes, as he knew that nothing good was going to happen to him as he stood there. His wife, Esther, was swarming around, ranting and raving about how inconsiderate he was of her feelings and how badly he had treated her. She claimed that he was having fun watching her suffering in worry, while in actuality, he was suffering, knowing that if Nikita didn't get better, Esther may not have long to live.

"I just want to see the child... Give her some holy water that has been in my family for years!" Esther cried out as she turned and stared at her husband. She hated when he turned his back on her and she picked up the loaf of French bread and hit him over the head.

"Is that necessary? You are screaming loud enough I could hear you across the street!" Henry reacted as he turned around and looked at the steaming eyes that glared at him. He knew that right now he was almost as low as the devil on his wife's list, but that didn't matter. He had to protect her from the truth at all costs, as it would destroy her to find out about the lie that she had been living in and under.

"If I have too, God, almighty, has given me the strength to win against your tyranny!" Mrs. Papappas screamed loudly and Henry dropped his head, hoping his wife wouldn't notice the rolling of his eyes, as he always seemed to get in trouble for that. Henry lifted his head and swallowed as Mrs. Papappas had her hands on her hips and was frozen as she stared at him.

"What about what Michael and Nikita want?" Henry posed as a question, trying not to raise his voice. He looked at her and swallowed, not sure if he wanted the answer or not.

"She needs a mother, Henry! You know how gentle of a creature God made that woman.... She should be around other women who can mother her... so when the gracious will of the Lord makes her a mother also... she will know how to be one...." Mrs. Papappas said and Henry shook his head as he moved to the back room. He hated now living in this double world, knowing the truth about Michael and Nikita, knowing that a baby wouldn't be a blessing for them, but most likely would be a death sentence for both of them.

"Esther... the modern day has changed women... You still can't see that." Henry commented as he tried to grab the cleaning supplies to clean the oven, but Mrs. Papappas grabbed the rag and snapped it with her wrist, wagging it at Henry as an extension of her pointed finger.

"God made women to be mothers. That is what Nikita's body is to do. It is a temple for the Holy Spirit and someday that Holy Spirit will create another image of God!" Mrs. Papappas said and Henry dropped to his knees and lifted his hands.

"Dear God, please let her listen to me for five minutes. I have prayed for this for years and I need it now!" Henry sarcastically prayed, hoping to mute his wife.

"You'll go to hell for that Henry Papappas!" Mrs. Papappas yelled and Henry climbed back onto his feet and swallowed. At times, like this one, he wasn't sure why he married Esther. She wasn't this fanatically about religion when he met her and this slowly appeared and suddenly it blossomed around him. It was probably because she never had a child, something that Henry was disappointed about, but also relieved about.

"At least I would be away from you!" Henry yelled out as his nerves were shot. He dealt with Nikita and Michael for too long. He just wanted some peace and quiet so he could try to figure out what was going on, but he couldn't even get that.

"HENRY!" Mrs. Papappas exclaimed as the tears stared to roll down her face and form a puddle on her shirt. Henry's body lurched forward to comfort her and then stopped. Maybe now was the time to finally lay down some rules, to make Esther back to the woman that he once loved with his entire heart.

"Esther... I'm trying to look out for the good of everyone in this situation.... Not just me... not just you.. Not just Michael and not just Nikita... Everyone... and it takes compromise." Henry firmly said and Esther stared at him as the tears continued.

"But I am your wife!" Mrs. Papappas exclaimed out and Henry lowered his head as he heard the words. He knew them and he felt the words slap him across his face.

"But you are trying to be Nikita's mother!" Henry countered at Esther. She stepped back as she shook her head, becoming more upset with each passing second.

"She never had a mother!"

"Doesn't mean you have to be her mother!"

"She needs a mother!"

"Esther...."

"I can be her mother...."

"She needs me... especially now!"

"She has Michael..."

"He doesn't count!"

"He doesn't count?"

"Yes! He doesn't count!"

"He is her husband! He loves her!"

"He defiled her.... Disgraced her before marriage."

"Esther!"

"I saw it!"

"He didn't do it alone!"

"Nikita only did it because she DOESN'T HAVE A MOTHER!"

"Excuse..." Madeline loudly stated as she looked at the arguing older couple from the doorway. Henry blinked his eyes at the sight, a woman he knew, but then he barely knew her. She had changed, but then hadn't changed. Her eyes looked at him as they always had looked at him.

"Sorry... we are closed for the day." Mrs. Papappas said with a broken voice, as she made no attempt to hide the tears that continued to run down her face, like Niagara Falls itself. Henry continued to stare at Madeline, knowing that she was almost an entire day early.

"I was told to come to this store.... My son told me." Madeline said and Mrs. Papappas finally started to wipe at the tears. Henry swallowed, as it became apparent that she wasn't going to deal with this now. Henry also knew that Michael had plans for the night and that Madeline's arrival couldn't be more ill timed.

"Who is your son?" Henry questioned and Madeline stepped forward and adjusted the purse that was around her shoulder, no doubt, holding a concealed weapon or two.

"Michael." Madeline stated and Mrs. Papappas head snapped around and stared at Madeline with a broad smile on her face.

"You are Michael's mother?" Mrs. Papappas questioned and Madeline nodded her head up and down. "I thought it was from the states."

"We are from France... and then we moved to Montreal while Michael was a little tike." Madeline said and Henry smiled at his wife. He remembered their argument months ago about Michael's origins.

"Doesn't matter... It is about time you got here!" Mrs. Papappas exclaimed and Henry dropped his head and swallowed. He knew that the next minutes weren't going to be ones that Madeline was going to want to listen too.

"Why is that? I'm actually earlier... Michael and Nikita aren't expecting me till tomorrow." Madeline stated and Mrs. Papappas allowed her jaw to drop as she stared at Madeline. She started to flap her hands, finding it hard to come up with the words.

"You need to go and help your son... He doesn't know how to take care of his wife...."

"Esther...."

"Shut up, Henry... She needs to know that she is also kind of Nikita's mother and that she should act more like it!"

"Esther..."

"I want to know why it took you so long? She is hurt something fierce. God made you a mother for a reason..."

"Mrs. Papappas... Michael just told me..."

"Then you should have been here days ago!"

"Esther..."

"Shut up, Henry... Go play with the devil! I will deal with this woman...."

"What did you just say Mrs. Papappas?"

"Don't make enemies, Esther."

"I will do what God wills me to do! God wants Nikita to be a mother to her grandchildren.. She should at least act like a mother!"

"Grandchildren?"

"Madeline.... Madeline... She doesn't know what she is talking about..."

"Grandchildren?" Madeline questioned as she turned and looked at Henry with eyes that were filled with worry, shock, hate, anger, love, compassion, and fear. Henry sighed and pushed at Esther, moving her away from Madeline and he took control of the situation.

"Madeline... My wife tends to believe that she is right... She feels like an adoptive mother towards Nikita and she convents deeply religious beliefs... Nikita is injured." Henry said and Madeline narrowed her eyes in a focus that told Henry he better be correct and then she smiled and the eyes lightened. He knew that Madeline knew that Nikita wasn't, but it was always that way while dealing with his wife.

"Thank you for explaining to me, Mr. Papappas. From what Michael told me, Nikita was deeply injured from falling off of rocks." Madeline stated as Henry opened the door that led to their house part of the building.

"That's what they are saying!" Mrs. Papappas huffed out and Henry shook his head as he smiled. Madeline stopped briefly, as she noticed the smile that once caught his fancy. She didn't know what could have happened between the two if he hadn't gotten injured. Madeline pushed the thoughts away and smiled.

"Esther.... It is the way that Michael wants it to be." Henry said and Madeline sighed and rolled her eyes. She could see definitely why Nikita had issues with Mrs. Papappas.

"My son likes to control things." Madeline stated and she looked around. She looked at the small little house that Henry had with his wife and she felt something pang inside of her. To Madeline, it wasn't jealousy, but everyone else knew that to be the emotion Madeline was experiencing. She tried to belittle the house, to find something wrong, but it didn't seem wrong. It seemed nice.

"Just tell me where my son is and I'll leave you two alone." Madeline stated and Henry shook his head.

"As I stated... Michael is trying something to make Nikita feel better tonight... I insist... Have dinner with us... stay here." Henry said as he forced a smile out and Madeline knew what Henry was offering her. He was offering her hours of torture. She wanted to escape this out for thousands of reasons and not all of them dealt with the behavior and religious antics of Mrs. Papappas. She hadn't realized she missed Henry so much.

"Yes... stay... We can make plans on discussing parenthood with Michael and Nikita.... They must start... They will make beautiful children...." Mrs. Papappas started and Madeline sighed.

"I don't think they are quite ready..."

"Oh yes... Nikita is loved... and now she will want to multiple!"

"She is going to need to heal..."

"She needs to have a child...."

"They have only been married a few months..."

"Ah.. yes... Young love.. And better to have children now..."

"I don't think you know them...."

"No.. I don't think you know them." Mrs. Papappas proclaimed and moved out of the room and into the kitchen. Henry looked at Madeline and dropped his head. He had tried to tell Madeline that his wife was a bit too much to handle.

"That might be the first correct thing she has said all day." Henry stated and moved out the room, feeling Madeline taking the statement harshly, among other things.

*

Michael carefully watched as Nikita stepped her bare feet into the grass, finding strength in herself that hadn't been there before he left. Michael knew that it had been connected to the food that Walter had Nikita eat and what a difference it made in Nikita. There were still problems and there were still issues, but now, Nikita seemed to be willing to try and Henry would be proud of the progress made.

Nikita skimmed her hands over the surface of the light blue sundress Michael had bought her during the day, although it wasn't the purchase that Michael wanted to give to her on this night. Yet, when things started to fall into place, the simple sundress that still elegantly sat on her body, making her look almost the way she did before the mission to Liberty Circles, Michael knew the right choice was made.

"What is this, a starlight picnic?" Nikita softly questioned as Michael showed Nikita the spread out blanket that had the dishes already set for the two of them. Nikita nervous looked at Michael as he reached for her hands and helped Nikita to carefully sit down on the blanket.

"Yes... since you ate a late lunch." Michael said as he moved back to the kitchen. Nikita looked over her shoulder and Michael could tell that she was nervous, as he easily remembered what Walter had helped Michael understand.

When Walter explained that Nikita couldn't touch the silverware and that she didn't seem to have enough control of her hands, Michael's initial response was just to feed her. Luckily, Walter had predicted that Michael would think that way and stopped that process in Michael's head. Michael looked at Nikita now as she carefully touched her hair as the wind gently lifted it off of her shoulders. Michael knew that Walter's idea was perfect sense and might do more than just get Nikita to eat.

Michael grabbed the two dishes and placed the food onto the dishes before he walked back out to the picnic blanket he had set out. Nikita smiled at Michael until she saw the dishes. Nikita carefully dropped her head and looked at the glasses that were around on the blanket.

"Here we go." Michael said as he placed the dish in front of Nikita. Nikita looked down and started to tenderly chew on her slightly swollen bottom lip, as she had been chewing it often the past few days. Michael reached out and brushed his fingertips over the gesture, waiting for Nikita to stop and then smiled at her as he grabbed lightly her hand.

"Enjoy..." Michael, said as he looked down at the dish in front of Nikita. Nikita looked to the side and swallowed. Michael recognized the smile that Nikita forced on her face as she turned to him, trying to look like she truly meant what she was going to say.

"Michael... I'm not really that hungry. Walter gave me a lot." Nikita said and Michael smiled and nodded his head. He looked at Nikita's plate and used his fork to pick up some of the lettuce and looked at Nikita.

"He warned me not to use too much heavy creams.... I thought these would be something you liked... I made Garlic Potatoes and Cheese and then Salade Nicoise." Michael said as he looked at the salad and looked up at the sky.

"They are my favorite foods." Michael softly stated and he dropped the fork and sighed. He pushed his dish away and swallowed. "I think I'm not hungry either..."

"No, Michael.... It's just me..." Nikita said and Michael looked at Nikita and picked up the fork. He swirled the lettuce around in the air, watching Nikita's eyes following the food and he dropped his head.

"I want to feed you..." Michael growled out with a moan of passion that Nikita couldn't have taken as belittling her or berating her state. Nikita's eyes opened as Michael teased at Nikita's lips with the lettuce and finally Nikita opened her mouth and swallowed the lettuce easily.

"I wish eating food was always this interesting..." Nikita stated and Michael stood up and moved around to Nikita's back. He lightly wrapped his legs around Nikita's body, sitting her in between his legs. He felt her shiver as he leaned his head down onto her shoulder and picked up some of the potatoes on the fork. He leaned to the side and looked at Nikita's face.

"Your mouth is so pretty when you eat..." Michael softly stated as he looked at Nikita. She opened her mouth and accepted the food, bit by bit and then she was slowly eating each bite full, slowly tantalizing Michael, as he knew that it would.

It was seduction in eating food, but it was also seducing Michael into territory that he was sure that Nikita wasn't ready. The food was gone before Michael believed it to be and he didn't want the night to be over. He pushed the dishes away and pressed a kiss to Nikita's cheek; this kiss feeling more than any other kiss he had given her.

"Is it time to go in?" Nikita softly questioned and Michael shook his head and then kissed the back of Nikita's neck. He played with her blonde hair and sighed gently into the same spot that he had just pulled his lips up and off of.

"Not if you want to stay out here." Michael commented and Nikita turned and shook her head, as her hands started to find their way underneath his black shirt. Nikita's eyes didn't move and she didn't even gasp, as there was a slight snapping of electricity between her fingers and Michael's chest. Yet, it was normal for their relationship to feel as such.

"Can we do what we did last night?" Nikita softly questioned and Michael nodded his head, imagining Nikita immediately being surrounded by the lush hunter green grass yet again. Her pale body finding a peace while being one with the earth that surrounded her and the grass that was her mattress.

"Help me." Nikita stated as she looked at her dress and lifted her hands over her head. Michael's mouth dried as he saw the movement and his hands moved to pull the dress off before he had made the decision. Michael's eyes perked as he looked at Nikita's body as he revealed it, as beautiful as ever. He didn't know how last night he didn't realize it and he didn't know how he was going to control himself on this night.

Slowly, Michael pealed off his own clothing to lay down on the grass with Nikita. She was content with the light breeze that tickled and excited both of their bodies. She was content with a growing sense of wellness that seemed to be connected with being close to Michael but also from being on the grass, in the middle of nature. It seemed as if Nikita was happy to be able to expose her relationship with Michael on this level, on a level that most grown adults can't find peace in, where most often, one was conscious of something else.

Although Nikita had damage to her body, it didn't matter as Nikita felt the nearness of Michael's body. Michael's natural energy, that Nikita had faintly been aware of before this time seemed to kick-start her body, making all the parts that hurt to feel a bit better.

Nature helped as Nikita slowly placed her head down on Michael's bare chest, seeking a comfort that she had found almost painful from the electricity that ran her body. Now she had the chance to hear Michael's heart and know that most of the reasons why it still beat was due to her.

And in that starlight, the light figures of Michael and Nikita blended into the darkness. They became one with the peaceful night, seeing that only the future was ahead of them. They fell asleep there, satisfied with the meal and content for the time being. The starlight though had ways of illuminating other things, but only when one was ready for the spotlight.

*

The air was getting crisp on their naked bodies, but it only served for them to move closer to one another. Michael held onto Nikita's back lightly, and every so minutely, was rubbing his fingers up and down the fine muscles.

Michael's mind was somewhere else as he held the woman he loved. He knew how far Nikita had come from the day they had arrived back in the quaint little town. It was like they had just grown closer and closer together, like everything one did effected the other. Michael ethereally placed a tender kiss on Nikita's forehead, treating her like her body was made of the most delicately hand blown glass in the entire world.

Nikita's mind was also sorting through thoughts of her own, that seemed to make Nikita focus on the stars above her and the man that held her intimately to his own body. So many things had happened to Nikita that she needed moments to know what was going on at a given moment. She felt the support from Michael, not by his arm around her body, but by being entitled to listen to his heart, that sang out to her very being, her very soul.

"Michael..." Nikita softly whispered out and Michael held his breath, not knowing if Nikita was gently calling out to him, to bring his attention to her, or if Nikita was just saying his name because of his presence. When Nikita slowly started to roll away from Michael, so she could look into his eyes, Michael was almost worried with fear of Nikita wanting to leave.

"Madeline is coming tomorrow." Nikita softly stated as if it was a closely guarded secret that Michael was not to know of. Michael nodded his head as he reached for her hand, finding her fingers willingly mingling and twining with his as a connection of support.

"Yes, in the morning." Michael gently supplied the information, as Nikita leaned up and started to gnaw at her bottom lip, now looking more of the picture of elegant nervousness rather than graceful relaxfulness. Michael gently pushed his body slightly up, using his elbows to prop him from behind. Nikita reached out and traced her finger down the line of his chest and then lifted her head again, signaling the pain that was behind the eyes.

"I'll have to talk with her about..." Nikita cautiously articulated as if each syllable was piercing her heart with a steak knife. Michael rubbed at her arm, seeking to make that look go away, to wash it away, to force it away.

"You don't have to talk about anything, Nikita." Michael assessed with a firm voice that meant every single word. Nikita dropped her head with a heart-wrenching smile. Michael's mind and heart knew the words that were going to be said.

"I won't have a choice." Nikita finally said after she rolled her head back and sought strength from the heavens above. Nikita dropped her body down onto the grass, flipping fully onto her stomach so that she could use her elbows to prop her face up in her palms.

"You always have choices, Nikita... even when Section One tries to take them away from you." Michael vigilantly reminded Nikita. Her words, although little and not of vast amounts were starting to rub Michael raw, seeing that something was bothering Nikita, and in bothering Nikita, it bothered Michael.

"I want to tell you." Nikita firmly stated as she turned her head and met her sapphire eyes with Michael's emerald eyes. Nikita was so into her pain, she didn't notice the fear that rushed across Michael's eyes. He was unsure he could handle to hear Nikita's stories to hear of the torture that occurred to her either recently or before she was with Section One. He didn't want to hear the details about the men abusing her, because with each story, Michael would make a vow to find that man and to exact some sort of revenge in the name of Nikita's honor.

"Are you sure?" Michael gasped finally. Nikita nodded her head as she rubbed at Michael's cheek. She felt a connection with Michael that shouldn't be denied and that she couldn't deny any longer. Nikita dropped her head and started the slow process of revealing only small chunks of the huge puzzle that was her childhood and her teenage years.

"You know, Michael... I think I was a teenager until Section One took me in... And I was abused my entire time as a teen..." Nikita softly started out and the words flowed from that point on. Michael nodded his head and stroked at parts of Nikita's body, trying to help her with the process, finding the pain not as painful as he thought it would be. Nikita's eyes didn't ruin over with extra tears and her voice was steady with some of the stories.

Of course other parts of the past were too difficult still to reveal, but that would only take time. It took courage and strength to do this part, to say it at least once. Now having achieved it once, to a man that could crumble her heart with the word no, gave her the courage to continue on. Nikita knew that she must continue on, until the demons weren't only revealed to the ones around her, but to herself. Once they were out, they could no longer be used against her.

An hour passed without Michael saying a word. He didn't question Nikita's stories and he didn't comment. He listened compassionately; feeling the pain of Nikita's past and knowing that in ways Section One had spared her even more pain.

Nikita finally settled her head down onto Michael's chest, allowing the last remains of the tears to wash down onto his bare chest, to be evaporated by the night sky and carried away. Michael stroked her hair and studied the stars above, finding not one star that was as bright as Nikita's hope and love. He couldn't find one that could even compare to Nikita in beauty and he knew the greatest treasure that he could ever find was in his arms.

"Thank you for the gift, Nikita." Michael softly stated, as it appeared as if Nikita was starting to slide off into a slumber that he was sure she needed. Yet, the words penetrated the state between sleep and wake and pulled Nikita's head up off of Michael's long and firm chest. She pressed her hands against Michael's chest as her eyes slowly narrowed, studying the face of a man that she loved but also of the man that she had changed.

"What gift?" Nikita queried with a voice of shock and confusion. Nikita shook her head as Michael reached out and touched her hair, feeling the crepe de chine texture of her hair. Michael rolled his head to the side, feeling the blades of the grass tickling at his neck.

"Yourself. There is no other gift in the world I would want." Michael commented and the tears started to hit Michael's heaving chest, as the words seemed to echo around them. Nikita dropped down and kissed Michael's chapped lips, leaving her moisture behind on them.

"There is no other person I would want to be a gift too." Nikita stated and Michael lightly chuckled as his hands rubbed down her shoulders and Nikita stared at him.

"Don't start something you can't finish." Nikita jokingly chided Michael with her eyes blazing back their desire to Michael. He leaned up and captured those lips that issued the challenge. His hands moved and flipped her down to the ground.

"I wasn't starting that... I was starting this..." Michael said as his fingers started to wiggle, tickling at Nikita's pale skin. He smiled broadly as Nikita's body wiggled back and forth on top of the green grass in the middle of the starlight.

"I'll get you for that!" Nikita laughed as she maneuvered her body and flipped Michael down to the grass, now hovering over Michael's body. There was a stop in the play they found their hearts racing too and their chests heaving too. Nikita looked at Michael and gently dropped her head, finding the kiss between them unlike anything they had ever participated in together with before. It was beyond words and it was even more indescribable than what had occurred on the Gazebo. The world had stopped for Michael and Nikita to frolic in and all they could do was hold that kiss, knowing that they were one another's someone for eternity.

*

Michael carefully held the mug of coffee in his hands as the water upstairs turned off. He waited to listen for Nikita's feet, carefully walking into the bedroom. He looked over his shoulder as Henry walked in and dropped his head.

"Madeline is coming.... She spent the night at my house." Henry said and Michael turned and swallowed. The night was splendid and beyond words for both Michael and Nikita, as both started to feel like they had a life that wasn't defined by Section One. They both found it difficult to pick their bodies off of the lush grass as the morning light started to creak, making the fuzzy outlines of the objects around the more distinct in nature.

"That must have been a learning experience." Michael commented and he dropped his head. He knew he should be thankful, because if Madeline had come over last night, there might not be a Michael and Nikita right now. There would be a Michael and a Nikita. She may have walked in when Nikita was mumbling her life story in words that she found easy enough to speak. She may have walked in when they were playing in the grass like two wood nymphs. Anything that Madeline could have walked in on would have been counterproductive.

"At first I saw that Madeline and my wife were not connecting, but then they got on the subject of Nikita." Henry said and Michael dropped his head as his heart began to pound. He lifted his head and looked at Henry, knowing that more of the truth was going to find it's way out of his mouth and into Henry's ears.

"It was odd because of the history I have with Madeline..." Henry softly stated before Michael could even start to reveal Madeline's own tragic maternal instincts towards Nikita. Michael blinked his eyes and shook his head.

"History? I thought you just knew of each other." Michael stated as he settled the mug of coffee on the faux marble countertop. Henry nodded his head and went to the coffeepot himself.

"I hope Nikita isn't drinking this." Henry stated, as he was obviously avoiding the conversation and the nagging question on Michael's mind.

"She wasn't allowed to drink it before the episode with Dr. Bowles and she isn't allowed to drink it now. Nikita on caffeine is very dangerous." Michael stated with a soft chuckle, knowing that he was hoping to lure Henry into a safe place to get the information.

Sometimes Michael underestimated Henry and sometimes he forgot that Henry had been in Section One. He knew the little games and he knew the motives behind almost all of Michael's moves when it came to everything but Nikita. He poured his coffee into the mug and turned towards Michael, knowing at the river named truth was about to flow.

"Me and Madeline go back a lot further than you think." Henry cryptically stated as he moved to the table and sat down. Michael blinked his eyes as he stared at Henry. His hands moved to the countertop, moving blindly to find the mug he had just sat down with the coffee that he desperately needed now.

"I think you better at least give me an outline." Michael said as he finally found the mug by sticking his finger into the hot liquid. His hand wrapped around the mug and lifted it as he reallocated to the table to stare at Henry.

There was no trace of Henry being nervous as Michael's stern emerald eyes reflected down into his coffee. Henry lifted his head and swallowed and the first set of words failed him, knowing that the pretty words of abstract thoughts would not satisfy Michael. He was a man that just needed the truth and the simple truth was the best.

"We were to be married." Henry revealed and Michael dropped his head to the coffee and blinked his surprise. He tried to push it away, trying to grab a sense of the reality around him. To find out that Madeline was once suppose to be married to the man who in turned married Esther was difficult to believe. The women were so different in nature and in personality.

"The injury happened about two months after Madeline said yes... Maddie was so happy at that time..." Henry said and Michael lifted his head and swallowed. The man's eyes now revealed things that Michael was sure spent the years of his freedom hidden behind the façade of a happy and well to do man.

"It wasn't an accident... Who was it? Adrian? Paul?" Michael questioned and Henry dropped his head and nodded his head.

"One or the other, it doesn't quite matter. They did what they had to do to break what happiness that Madeline had." Henry stated and Michael nodded his head sadly. He still knew that it was a possibility that Madeline's newfound compassion was going to end up destroying both himself and Nikita sometime down the road.

"They released me from Section... because Madeline took it too hard... See.. Maddie was suppose to take over Section... and that is how Paul got the position." Henry divulged to Michael. Michael leaned his head back and shook it lightly.

"How did you end up with Esther?" Michael questioned and Henry smiled and laughed.

"I called her Madeline in a store in a town not far from here. Once upon a time, she was even prettier than Madeline and a bigger heart..." Henry said as his head toppled down in shame. Michael stood up and poured the rest of his coffee down the spiraling drain, finding it too harsh for his stomach this morning.

"Must have been difficult having them both in the house." Michael mused out loud, knowing that the two women clashed probably on every issue, being almost the exact opposite in each and every way possible.

"It was difficult... because I know that I just settled for a woman..." Henry said as his voice broke and Michael turned around. He shook his head and moved to Henry's chair and pulled at his shoulders.

"You didn't just settle."

"Yes... I chose her because she looked like Madeline..."

"You didn't settle."

"Michael, you aren't listening to me...."

"Michael.. I wanted to get married and move on..."

"You had to have loved her, Henry!"

"Somewhere along the line I started too... But I didn't at first!"

"And you do now."

"No! I don't love her now."

"Henry, you can't be saying that."

"Michael, I look at you and Nikita and I don't have anything that competes with that.... That was the way Maddie and me use to be... finding the joy in the most simple and mundane things one could find. We found happiness in a fake window in the ready room!" Henry shouted as he stood up and threw his hands up in frustration.

"I couldn't settle for anything less than Nikita, Henry.... I just think you are confused..."

"You are comparing apples to oranges... Madeline can't be compared to Esther... You knew her in a different time and place." Michael argued out and the doorbell rang. Michael swallowed and shook his head as the footsteps from upstairs started to run down the stairs.

"Madeline." Nikita's voice rang out and Michael froze in the process of moving towards the door. He waited with baited breath, knowing in his heart what was going to come out of Madeline's mouth next.

"Nikita... Let's go for a walk." Madeline softly said and Henry moved to Michael's side and tried to shake the man out of the haze he was in. Henry didn't want Madeline to get a hold of Nikita, not now. Michael shook his head, knowing that if he tried to stop what Madeline had planned it would only be worse. He swallowed and waited; hoping that the conversation he had with Nikita the night before was enough.

"Ok... but with my rules." Nikita stated and all Michael heard was the closing of the front door and then silence. Michael dropped his head and found a sudden belief in a god of sorts, just for Nikita's sake.

*

Michael stalked the front hallway for hours, not knowing where Madeline went with Nikita and what Madeline's intentions were. Nikita had mentioned that she knew that Madeline was going to question her, but she was gone too long. Henry couldn't do anything to ease Michael's plight in front of the front door, waiting for Nikita's arrival back. It was almost like Michael feared that Nikita wasn't going to arrive back, that Madeline had stolen her away as easily as it would be for Section One to kill the president.

The time was given for thinking and that wasn't something that either man wanted to do. Henry was dealing with an entire bus load of memories of Madeline, only made worse with the fact that the exposure to Nikita's injury had brought his own injury back to the surface. He still didn't know how he landed in the little town that he did and he didn't know how he met Esther. He called it fate and now he had to wonder if it was someone in Section One trying to play God.

The footsteps were heard on the porch, the second time during the hours that Michael paced. The first time, Michael leapt out from the door and scared the poor postman as he was making his little route. Michael had apologized and went back inside to finish pacing. Michael waited this time, feeling like a peeping tom of sorts, but he couldn't help nor stop himself if he even tried too.

"I'm glad we had this conversation, Nikita." Madeline stated as she stood on the porch. She reached out and hugged Nikita tenderly. Nikita forced out a smile and signaled with a stiff and curt nod that she felt the same way. Nikita waited and saw that Madeline wanted Nikita to speak. This time, Madeline had been too easy to read, even for Nikita.

"I'm glad we did." Nikita lied as she dropped her head lightly. Madeline motherly stroked the hair off of Nikita's shoulder and pushed it back. She rubbed her hand up to her ear and smiled.

"You have a lot more to discuss and I think a more therapeutic meeting place will be needed... but for now, until we need you on further missions... You are doing fine here." Madeline stated and Nikita tried not to swallow, but found the response automatic and happening before she even ordered herself not too.

"Does this mean you are going back to Section One?" Nikita stated and Madeline smiled and nodded her head. She reached for Nikita's hand and rubbed the back of her hand.

"Yes... but as I discussed with you... Mrs. Papappas will watch out for you... She is actually quite wise." Madeline said as she hugged Nikita and then dropped her hand. Nikita swayed lightly, but Madeline did not notice it as she turned and walked back down the path.

Nikita couldn't even move from where she stood as the trauma of the day she had crashed around the little walls and barriers that she had just managed to put up. Michael opened the door as Nikita's hand pushed out in front of her looking for support.

Michael moved out of the house and grabbed that hand and then allowed Nikita to collapse her emotionally wary body into his chest, seeking comfort in his touch. Michael didn't even have a chance to process what Madeline had said and the last couple lines kept repeating over and over again in his mind. He wanted to know how Mrs. Papappas got dragged into this and how the alliance was made. From the way Henry discussed the issues of the previous night, Madeline was going to cancel her before the night was done.

"Come on inside, Nikita..." Michael softly stated as he turned and found Henry holding the door open for Nikita. He dragged her over the threshold and continued to hold her, as it appeared as if tears were even too hard for Nikita to produce at the moment. Michael looked over and Henry and sighed. "Get me some water, she is dehydrated."

Michael settled Nikita down onto the couch as Henry trotted off to the kitchen to do as Michael had requested. Michael touched Nikita's head and she shook her head back and forth, showing anger in a situation that she knew was going to happen.

"She made me tell her, Michael..." Nikita moaned out as she reached her hands out. Michael folded his hands into them as he knelt down on the ground in front of Nikita and looked up at her, trying to see and sense what happened to Nikita. He was afraid to ask, but he needed to know so he could try to counteract whatever Madeline put in motion.

"How was it different from when we talked last night?" Michael softly posed the question. Nikita leaned her head back on the couch and finally the tears revealed themselves from behind the curtains of Nikita's eyelids. She fluttered her eyes and dropped her head again.

"She made me discuss it in her terms.... In words that weren't mind..." Nikita tried to convey what happened. Her words weren't lacking and Michael sensed what Nikita was trying to say. He didn't care about the details of what happened to Nikita and he didn't care about the details of the men. Yet to a person like Madeline, who lived her entire life using the little details to create a larger and more complex psychological problem, she needed those details and of Nikita, she must have demanded them.

"You walked around the town talking about this?" Michael sensitively solicited, knowing that still the process of which Madeline had used was hidden.

"For a while we sat in the park.. And then she took me..." Nikita started to explain and then pulled back with a furious battle of shaking her head back and forth, only indicating how much more pain Madeline had been able to put Nikita into for this conversation.

Henry arrived with the water as Michael achingly tried to stop Nikita's repetitive head motions to no positive response. He found it difficult to see the difference in the woman. Michael, the untrained one, was having and making progress with Nikita and making it the least painful. Madeline was having terrible responses and leaving her back with Michael to heal again.

Michael turned and grabbed the glass of water. Nikita's eyes feasted on the water before her mouth lurched for the cool liquid, finding the craving for it too unbearable to deny. Henry turned back for the kitchen as the glass of water was gone before he could even blink. He wanted to curse Madeline for her inconsiderate actions, making Nikita upset, but more importantly, taking her out for a walk and giving her no liquids.

"What did she do, Nikita..." Michael questioned, his voice lowering with each question, not wanting to cause more pain, but in his mind he knew that they were causing more pain. Nikita shook her head and groaned out and lunged her head down to Michael.

"She took me to church, Michael...."

"What?"

"She took me to church..."

"No... She..."

"Mrs. Papappas was there... and they talked to me..."

"About what, Nikita?" Henry questioned from behind Michael, seeing the situation tumbling out of control. Madeline's need to do something good was churning like a tornado, destroying all the good things in its path.

"She said I had mother issues... that when I was a kid... I wanted the men..." Nikita sobbed out and Michael leapt up from his knelt position and grabbed Nikita in his arms. Henry rushed also; knowing that the words out of Nikita's mouth were the most inconsistent things ever heard when it came to a case of childhood abuse.

"She said... that I wanted them to use me... because I didn't have a father...." Nikita said into Michael's shoulder and he shook his head. He was trying to process everything and finding that his mind was overheating with each word that she did say and try to explain.

"How as my wife involved?" Henry questioned, feeling sick to his stomach. Nikita started to tremble, her body reverting to the ways of days gone by. The progress that they had made was slowly slipping away despite their efforts.

"She told Madeline.. That I needed to confess my...."

"Nikita.. Just say it.. I need to know..."

"I needed... no..."

"You needed what?"

"To confess.. confess..."

"Nikita..."

"Confess... confess..."

"Confess..." Henry said as Michael leaned his head back. The men knew what Nikita was going to say but they also needed Nikita to say them. The back door was slamming open and Walter walked into the living room and stopped, seeing the impromptu intervention happening.

"CONFESS MY SINS! SHE SAID I SINNED! THAT I WAS WRONG! THAT I MADE THE MEN DO IT!" Nikita screamed out and Walter feel to his knees shaking his head as Michael grabbed Nikita's arms.

Nikita was too beside herself to look into Michael's eyes. They had also told her that she wasn't worthy enough for Michael's loves now, that she needed to be a real woman for Michael and that she was failing him as a wife. They shoved a book of prayers in front of Nikita and waited for her to mutter them over and over again as she spitefully went along with their claims that Nikita was evil and she was the guilty one.

"Nikita.. Listen to me..." Michael started.

"Nikita.. You have to listen to Michael..."

"Look, she was wrong, you aren't to blame. The men are." Michael stated out firmly and Nikita shook her head back and forth. She knew that the men were wrong, but the trauma and the stress of having the other view pushed into her mind was creating the biggest conflict in Nikita's mind to date.

"You did nothing wrong. They were the adults. They knew what they were doing." Michael said and was relieved as Nikita's head finally started to nod up and down. Michael held onto Nikita as Henry moved to Walter.

"What did I ever see in that woman?" Henry hissed out and Walter licked his lips and pulled Henry into the kitchen. He pushed the folded paper to Henry's hands and looked around.

"She is very clever. She did exactly as Operations ordered, but did so knowing that Nikita would come here and survive." Walter said and Henry looked at the memo and shook his head back and forth. He balled up the paper and threw it away into the garbage.

"I can't see Madeline going along with this." Henry said and Walter looked around and heavily sighed.

"She did it for your happiness. He said he would kill Esther if she didn't do this." Walter said and Henry leaned his head back and sat down, knowing that no matter how much freedom he thought he had this entire time, Section One still owned him and Section One terribly owned Michael and Nikita as they clung to each other in the living room.

*

Michael strolled down the park, remembering a day so many months ago he had to struggle to get Nikita into the very park. It was the beginning of a new stage in their life, a stage that Michael a week ago was afraid that Madeline and Mrs. Papappas had destroyed with their error-filled thoughts and beliefs. It was a week ago that Michael held Nikita on the couch for hours, letting her tears to roll onto his shoulder and to feed her more water, just so she could produce more tears.

It had been a week of revealing emotions, of milestones, of setbacks. It was a week of conflicting feelings, of outbursts, of dreams. It had been a long week of nightmares, of fights, of make-ups. There wasn't a day that week that had passed that Michael hadn't held Nikita for hours while her eyes continued to seep and there wasn't a day in the week that passed that Michael didn't end up crying with Nikita. There wasn't even a day in the week that Madeline didn't call and try to explain, only to make the settled Nikita more upset than before.

Progress was charted by the hours, but rather by the minutes. Each minute that Nikita didn't cry and didn't shudder and didn't close her eyes and wished for it all to be over, was one minute better than the time before. Those precious minutes seemed like the rarest gem of them all, that should be set aside and looked at from afar, to keep it in it's perfected stated.

Most importantly, it was a week, seven days of twenty-four hours, in which Nikita revealed herself to be the same woman she was before all of this started. She still was brave and stubborn. She still believed in life and the pursuit for dreams and happiness. Nikita was Nikita, and similarly, Nikita found that Michael was Michael, no matter how much Madeline or Mrs. Papappas tried to make them seem like different people.

Michael was now finding peace, having Nikita kick him out of the house for unspecified plans. The gesture alone was enough to tell Michael that Nikita was back. She had stopped the self-pitying behavior and the self-destructive behavior and started to care about others. Michael was just glad to be added to the company of those that Nikita wanted to do things for. He didn't mind walking around the town for hours, because he knew in the end, that Nikita's smile would justify the blisters on his feet and heels.

The gazebo was empty as Michael walked into the structure. He carefully sat down with a heavy sigh, as his mind was finally getting the chance to process what happened during those seven days since Madeline tried to destroy the woman that he loved. He didn't get the chance during the days, as he watched over Nikita almost like a mother would, but with a passion, knowing that whatever happened to Nikita's soul in the battle would happen to his soul no long after.

It was hard to see what Madeline did as a blessing or a miracle, but in ways it was, opening more of Nikita's past up, that she was willing to just forget to mention. She spent hours in reciting what happened to her and Michael just listening back. He never judged her, as none of what happened to her as a child was her fault. Michael would never make Nikita hurt as much as Madeline did and in proclaiming that to Nikita, to Henry, and to Madeline herself, Michael divulged the true scope of his heart and the reason why his heart still was beating deep inside his carefully structured chest.

Michael heard the story of Miles V. Frogel, also known as Bull. It took courage for Nikita to reveal his real name and Michael had checked up on the happenings of the abusive man. As Nikita's story about one of the ways he tortured her while she was a child circled in Michael's mind, he found out that the man was killed during a Section One raid, and that Nikita happened to be on that mission. Michael looked at the files as the description of what Bull did to her created mental images in Michael's mind that wouldn't fade.

Nikita had disclosed one particular time when she was little. Michael didn't push for an age, but he listened. She had been trying to practice for school choirs show, when Bull slammed his way into the room. The Nikita that was looking back now knew that Bull was either drunk or high, while the little Nikita trembled on the bed in the closet like room. Bull snatched Nikita off of the bed and wrapped string around several teeth. To make the long story, which Nikita included all the details and the vial and disgusting words that were from Bull's mouth, short, Bull threatened to pull her teeth out if she continued to practice. She stood in front of that door for four hours, waiting for her mother to arrive home. She agreed with Bull, smacked Nikita's butt a few times and sent her off to bed without dinner, which Michael learned was normal behavior from her mother.

In ways, Michael had wished to find out that Nikita had been the Section One operative that killed Bull, making it seem justified in all ways. In the end, Nikita wasn't even near Bull during the mission and that Michael decided to leave it alone, as he mostly did with all of the men Nikita spoke about, except one.

Paul Rubenstein was the man that Michael found. At first, he seemed like every other man that Nikita had fallen for on the street. He had drugs and he was willing to give them to Nikita if she did things the way he wanted too. He wasn't the most brutal and he wasn't particular hard on Nikita when she left. But there was something about what Paul Rubenstein did to Nikita that made it terrible to listen too. He was injecting the drugs into her body, to create more pain.

Paul Rubenstein was a doctor.

He was now a dead doctor.

Michael didn't pull the trigger and he didn't even see it happened, but he made sure that it did happen. The man had suckered Nikita off of the streets with a claim that she could still use drugs but that he could stop her addiction while she still maintained the fun of being high. Instead, he made her life as painful as possible and almost deadly. The last time Paul Rubenstein injected drugs into Nikita's blood stream. He did so from a vein in her back, near her spine. It could have killed her.

Now years later, with one push of one key, Dr. Paul Rubenstein ceased to existed and he died knowing how it was done and who had made it possible, at least in a way. The same vein killed Dr. Paul Rubenstein and someone placed air bubbles into the blood stream. Michael watched the video and destroyed it, knowing that Nikita didn't need to see it. She had accepted what happened and moved on. Michael couldn't accept it so he finished it.

Michael sighed and stood up, feeling the need to walk again, not wanting to dwell on the bad and to focus on the future. There was a lesson in that feeling, a lesson that Nikita had helped Michael to discover during the week that passed. No matter how upset Nikita got, she knew that it was the past and what mattered now were the present and the future. Nikita had the innate nature to allow the past to stay the past, even in moments were Madeline tried her hardest to keep them as present problems. Michael still had to learn that, and he knew hopefully that in time he would learn that.

Michael soon was walking down the main street of the town. He briefly looked into the bread store and saw Mrs. Papappas. He was worried for Henry and his wife, knowing that what Madeline had done was threatening to destroy the marriage, but Michael had to wonder if Madeline had decided to do that before she arrived. It still disturbed Michael to hear about how close Henry was with Madeline and how Madeline was the one that was chosen to run Section. Madeline herself had been destroyed in a similar fashion that Nikita had been by Henry's injury and yet, she did that in return to Nikita.

"It's weird Michael, I thought I stopped caring for her a long time ago." Henry spoke one evening while Nikita showered away the layer of salty tears from her body. Michael stared out to the yard in the back, knowing that the healing of that day would occur there. He slowly turned and looked at Henry. "I still love her, Michael. She is my soul mate."

Soul mate.

What was a soul mate? The books defined it as cherish lover, true love. Yet, what was a cherished lover. Cherished meant love devotedly, but did that give any more clear meaning to soul mate? Yet, was there a true love, which seemed to denote that one could only have one person out there meant for them? It left no room to explain how a mother could love her husband and her children. Both were kinds of true love.

Michael asked Nikita about what a soul mate was. She simply replied, "You."

Was it that easy? Was there a time that if Michael asked Henry what a soul mate was, would he respond with "Madeline," and was there a time that if Michael asked Madeline the same question that she would conversely respond with Henry's name?

Michael's answer was something more than just Nikita, because just saying Nikita in Michael's eyes didn't justify all the feelings he had and shared with Nikita. It was more than a cherished lover and true love. It was more than knowing whom that soul mate was. It was the willingness to fight for that soul mate, to go through the bad times and the good times, knowing that only one person should have claim to his heart and that only one person was correct to hold that heart.

The small little floral store called out to Michael and he happily bought roses. Had he been in the city, Michael would have chosen a more exotic flower, like birds of paradise, which Nikita probably never had seen. It was as Michael was walking out of the store that the small bouquet of multicolored daisies presented themselves and soon they had join Michael's hand to go back to the tender soul of Nikita.

Michael, although he doesn't like to show it, is a very impatient man, finding it difficult to wait for anything. He headed back towards the house, the temporary location of his life with Nikita with a smile on his face. He knew that Nikita had plans but his plans were spontaneous and joyful.

"Michael, the only thing I would ever change about you, is that you need to live a little... be spontaneous... to make the answer happen and not make the answer appear." Nikita stated last night as they starbathed their naked bodies, that each night got closer and closer together. Nikita no longer showed signs of the electricity that seemed to have bolted her body in every way, except she still couldn't touch metal. Michael was going to have a fun time explaining to Madeline why Nikita couldn't hold a gun at present time.

Michael walked down the sidewalk with a smile on his face and spring in his step. He was spontaneous but he never showed Nikita that side too bright, knowing that it would have only served to justify Nikita's some times outlandish behavior.

While looking at the house Michael sighed. This was their beginning and this was their house, for no matter how temporary the arrangement was. He would never forget the look of the house or the way his heart was pounding as he thought of the woman inside. He would never forget how the clouds seemed to have broken over the house, shining bright streams of warmth and light down onto a house that needed it in order to help Nikita survive. Michael would never forget the way he felt when he rounded the side of the house to enter in the back.

He felt like Nikita's husband, that she was his wife. And that was the way it was in his heart and therefore made it real enough.

He was Nikita's husband.

Nikita was his wife.

No matter what the laws said and no matter what Madeline said.

Their hearts had decided to run off together and tell the rest of their body that they were combined till death do they part much later.

Michael wouldn't have it any other way.

*

Nikita softly hummed a song that was not known, but one of her own heart as the towel was collected on the top of her head. She slowly lifted the lid to the pot and turned off the flame from the stove. She lightly swayed from side to side as she pulled out the baking sheet to place the pre-made rolls onto it for them to back.

Michael smiled at the sight that he saw, seeing how she was finally able to touch metal, how she had recovered from virtually everything that Madeline had thrown in her way. Michael softly moved through the kitchen with his classic style, not making a sound. He was behind Nikita when he wrapped his hands around her waist and showed her the two bouquets of flowers.

"DAISIES!" Nikita exclaimed as she grabbed the colorful daisies and turned around to face Michael without looking at the roses. Michael held them as he smiled at her. He reached out with the hand that once held the daisies and stroked the line of her cheekbone, finding it an erotic place to touch. Michael leaned his head down and stole a kiss away.

Then Nikita stepped away and the tears seemed to form in her eyes. Michael blinked his eyes as he turned and stashed the roses into a small vase with barely any water in it. He reached for Nikita, but she backed away.

"I wasn't ready for you." Nikita commented and Michael looked around and sighed. The aroma in the kitchen was so delicious but yet so unique, like something he never had before. He again tried to move for Nikita but found no good in that move.

"I wanted to get back to you, Nikita." Michael softly stated, and Nikita dropped her head as her hands went to her head. She shook the head back and forth and swallowed painfully. Michael didn't understand what he had done and he stood there hoping that Nikita would explain.

"I finished dinner... but I'm not dressed!" Nikita exclaimed and Michael smiled and grabbed her hands and looked into the blue sapphires that Nikita own in her eyes. Michael shook his head and then gently pressed a kiss to the underside of Nikita's right wrist.

"I would eat anything with you as you are now." Michael stated and Nikita shook her head back and forth. Quickly she pulled her hand away from Michael's touch and rubbed obsessively on the back of her neck. Nikita rolled her head around and finally cast her sad face towards him.

"I wasn't going to do anything splendid... just were that dress you gave me..." Nikita said and Michael stopped and stepped back. He turned to the back room and grabbed a bag that had been hanging there; waiting for a moment that was special. Michael had been trying to make plans on flying out of the little town and going to a fancy restaurant, but now was the best time that Michael could think of.