The darkness meshed with the horrid images, causing the all the senses to burn, hotter and hotter. It was probably what it felt like to be stuck in a volcano as the lava melted below and it started to raise. Sweat covered the body, as it wanted to move, but couldn't.

Running.

For no reason. Everything was not explained, but there was a need to get out of the dark, before it closed in on the area. It was squeezing everything, making it hard to breathe, and making it hard to stand, and making it hard to think. Nothing was right, everything was wrong. A scream was choked in the throat.

Paralyzed with fear, unable to do anything. Someone else had control and was squeezing the situation into a little box in order to store it away to play with another time. It was like being controlled like a puppet, each arm and leg hung and attached to a string. Every movement was controlled by someone else, the puppetmaster who was the devil himself.

Jurgen.

He was the darkness. He was the heat.

Jurgen.

He was the fear. He was the past. He was the squeezing.

Jurgen.

He was what was wrong. He wouldn't leave her be. He plagued her. He ate away her sleep and filled it with terror. It was Jurgen who kept her eyes open all hours of the days, knowing that although the ghost form had left the normal world, his form, or his ghost haunted her dreams still.

Jurgen.

Run. The urge was too strong.

Run, but it couldn't be done.

Run to something, but she didn't know where she was running and why she was running. What could save her from this man, from this spook, from this demon?

What can save her from Jurgen?

It was like being stuck in a dark black of cement, the body stuck where it was. Fighting was useless and it was just getting so hot and so difficult to breathe.

"HELP!" Nikita screamed as she raised her head up off of Michael's chest and gasped for air. She tried to stop the images and to stop the darkness, but they seemed to be living still once she had awoken from the dream. Michael reached down and helped Nikita to lift her head.

"Nikita... calm down... it was just a dream..." Michael said as concerned, as he was the last night he spent with Nikita, on Sunday. Today was Friday night. It had been almost six weeks since he spent that first night with Nikita and her recovery was going well above what was expected. Yet, it was the nights that Michael spent with Nikita that indicated that mostly, Nikita wasn't progressing anywhere.

"Help..." Nikita gasped out, as she couldn't control the tears and the racing heart. She was finding it difficult to breath, still feeling as if she was being trapped by the box that Jurgen was trying to trap her in. She pushed her hands up and held her hair away from her face as she continued to cry, unable to stop this time.

"Nikita... calm down... It was just a nightmare... I have you..." Michael whispered as he looked at her hyperventilating. It was difficult when she had these nightmares, because she was still in pain and she couldn't sleep on her back. It was difficult to have her breath slowly when her face was down in his chest, but it was important to slow her entire body down. He had Nikita pass out from these dreams twice before, but that was right after she left medical. Michael had thought the severity was gone.

The key word: had thought. Michael knew that he was now wrong with that assessment and swallowed as he shifted in the bed, knowing that if he didn't get Nikita to calm down like she needed to be, she was going to end up cutting off her oxygen supply and passing out. It was always scary to watch Nikita to do that, and it did nothing to help her. In fact, it hurt her more than anything else did.

"Here.... Breath with me... In with my breath..... out with my breath..." Michael explained as he shifted her body and pressed her head down on his chest, holding her mouth to the side, hoping that his mere presence could achieve a stillness in her nightmare ridden body. That was what she needed and Michael prayed would work.

"Feel me... Nikita... I have you... I protect you..." Michael stated as he continued with a soothing voice and soon felt Nikita forcing her body to meet his body in timing and in rhythm. The slow and sure breaths were the sweetest sound that Michael could find and hear.

"Nikita... these have to stop..." Michael whispered as he looked down at her bloodshot eyes, staring to the wall of his apartment. It didn't matter where they spent the night, each time she settled into his arms and Michael thought it would be a peaceful night, the nightmares would come back. Michael blinked his eyes and he remembered that Nikita admitted that she hadn't been sleeping before he decided to spend the night at her apartment.

"Nikita... when was the last time you slept?" Michael softly prodded and Nikita closed her eyes. Michael was afraid to hear the answer, although his heart and soul could tell what the answer was before she even murmured the day Sunday out. It was not a good sign.

"Five days, Nikita? Your body can't live like that..." Michael remarked sharply and she rolled her head up and looked at Michael.

"I can't sleep, Michael... And if I do sleep... when you aren't here.... They are worse... You know that." Nikita stated and Michael pulled his head to the side to think of her comment. His hand continued to rub her head, hoping that she would fall back to sleep soon, knowing that it was a vital part of her recovery.

Michael remembered back to the couple times that Nikita had gone to bed in her own apartment by herself. The first time he ended up running to her apartment at 3:28 am to save her as she had locked herself in the closet, screaming loudly. Nikita hadn't called that time, the next door neighbor Mick had. The second time, somehow her subconscious had Nikita call him while she was still amidst the dream. Although she didn't remember that she had even called him, Michael had found Nikita trying to crawl into the cupboard under the sink in the bathroom. None of those events were good for her still injured back.

If what Nikita had said was correct, that she doesn't sleep when she isn't with Michael, then she was not getting much sleep at all. The time that Michael could spend with Nikita was far and few between, even though he knew that Nikita needed him at this time. She was fragile and needed care and Michael gave that to her when he could. Yet, it was like Section One knew of this need and only allowed a few nights in which Michael could be at her side and stay with her during the night. For the first time since she was released from medical, it sounded as if Michael was going to get the weekend to be with her, and maybe finally, Nikita could get back into a sleeping pattern to stop the demons from creeping up and scaring her in her sleep.

The probably was further compounded with the fact that Nikita was hiding how she truly was. Her physical therapy seemed to be going well and there was talk about her joining the team again. The truth was, Michael knew the pain that she was still in. He knew that she couldn't lay on the back and she had massive muscle spasms when she tried too hard to do things. When she was afraid or if she moved too quickly, she would spasm and cry. The one time, Michael walked into her apartment to find her in the throws of one. He rubbed and rubbed and later found out that she had been on the floor for just over an hour before he arrived, because she was too stubborn to call Section One for help.

"Bathroom..." Nikita softly said as she pushed her hands up on the bed and as Michael was thinking about, Nikita started to have the back muscle spasms. Michael moved instantly, pulling out from underneath Nikita and settling her on the bed. He rubbed gently and then, quicker than normal; Nikita nodded her head that she was ok. She slipped off of the bed, still shaky on her legs, and moved to the bathroom. Michael was tempted to follow her, but he couldn't fight his need for sleep. He wasn't afraid of it and with as many missions as Madeline and Operations had thrown him of late, he needed the sleep.

He easily fell back to the sleep he had been in. Dreaming of a day that he was able to care for Nikita as she needed to be cared for. He dreamed of walking to her apartment door, holding flowers and walking in. He dreamt of walking to the kitchen, handing Nikita the flowers and wrapping his hands around her waist. He dreamt of whispered how much he missed his wife and how he wanted to make love to her on the counter.

Michael had gone back to sleep. Nikita had not.

*

There was flour covering the wood floor of the kitchen as the water ran in the bathroom. Michael lifted his tired head and looked around at the mess that had exploded over his kitchen. He stood there, staring, not knowing how to take what he found. Either Nikita badly attempted to cook or she had attacked a terrorist with a bag of flour.

The water ceased in the bathroom and the door opened and Nikita walked out of the bathroom, still with a coat of flour over almost her entire body except for her hands now. She walked to the kitchen and smiled at Michael.

"I made croissants." Nikita said as she opened up the stove and pulled out a dish with the golden and fluffy pastry. Michael smiled and moved closer to the kitchen. His mouth watering as he looked at his favor food. That was when she pulled out the second, third, and fourth dish of the pastry.

"Are you going to be feeding all of Section?" Michael questioned and Nikita turned red, which contrasted with the white streaks of flour that, graced her face like a little girl learning how to use powder. Michael looked around and then at Nikita with a small laugh.

Michael knew that all of this was symptom of something much larger, the fact that she couldn't sleep. Baking for Michael kept her awake and made her do something so she didn't think about that dream she had. He should have thought about those issues, but the pastry was distracting him.

"Are they all the same?" Michael questioned and Nikita shook her head as she looked at the trays.

"Mmm... This tray should have the plain and strawberry filled..."

"That sounds good..."

"This tray I think is the cinnamon and it may have the cherry..."

"Nikita... you made too much..." Michael softly said as he pulled for what he hoped was a cherry one. He bit into the pastry and smiled with the flavor. "Cherry..."

"I didn't know if you liked passion fruit in yours... but I had it once... so I made this tray for me if I can settle my stomach..." Nikita said as she settled down and watched Michael eat. Michael was enjoying the pastry and didn't register the other comment that Nikita had made until he reached for the unusual sounded pastry.

"Your stomach is upset?" Michael questioned and Nikita nodded her head and stepped away from the kitchen counter. She rolled her shoulders around and looked so tired and so lost in his apartment. He pulled at the next croissant, not able to stop himself once he started. He could lose his trim figure if Nikita continued to do this for him.

"I probably should go home.... Do you think Madeline would get rid of my living room so I could get a bigger tub?" Nikita questioned and Michael blinked his eyes, losing what Nikita was talking about. One minute she was talking about her stomach and now she was onto her tub and going home. Michael dropped the half-eaten croissant and moved to her side and held her arms.

"We just woke up... stay." Michael said as he rubbed at her nose, where a little smudge of flour was. Nikita shook her head.

"You just woke up.. But I've been up for six hours, Michael." Nikita said and Michael turned around to look at the clock and blinked at the numbers. He didn't think that much time had passed. He turned and looked at Nikita and knew that he was not going to allow her to leave now. They needed to talk.

"Just talk to me, Nikita... What is with your stomach? What is with your tub? Why am I so lost?" Michael questioned as he pushed her down to the couch, watching the cloud of flour float up from her clothes. She really did wear what she cooked.

"My stomach just gets upset when I eat too much passion fruit as I bake.. That's all.. But they should stay..." Nikita said as she looked to the kitchen and Michael smiled and touched her head.

"I sure hope so. I can't eat all of those today!" Michael exclaimed and Nikita blinked back a soft tear. Michael looked at it and frowned.

"What is it?" Michael questioned and Nikita dropped her head with red flushing her face again. He didn't know why all of a sudden she was embarrassed.

"It is so stupid... But I'm dying to take a bath... and I can't use mine..." Nikita said and Michael looked around and frowned.

"Is it broken? Get the sup..."

"No.. It's too small, Michael... It is one of those really tiny tubs... from medieval times or something when people were about a foot shorter... I don't fit in it when I feel good, and my back couldn't take the pressure now." Nikita revealed and Michael looked at Nikita and rubbed her hair back.

"Use mine." Michael stated in a soft and simple voice, like it was a stupid thing for Nikita not to do it.

"Michael..."

"Nikita... I mean it." Michael said as he looked at her clothing. He laughed as he pulled the shirt back and let it fall back to her skin. The cloud of flour reappeared.

"You are covered in flour... you look like Pigpen from the Peanuts cartoons." Michael stated and Nikita smiled and looked to her hands.

"I know that comic... they wrapped fish in those..." Nikita said and Michael nodded his head. He wasn't going to comment anymore, not know if there was a story behind that statement or not. He did not want to cause anymore pain to Nikita than what she was personally putting herself in.

Michael stood up and retrieve the half of the delightful pastry he couldn't stop eating. Nikita seemed to have worked magic. He moved and grabbed one of the croissants that he was sure was plain and opened it to be sure. He moved over and handed to Nikita as she blinked her eyes while staying on the couch.

"Here." Michael stated as he sat down in front of her. Nikita jumped backwards and looked to his hand.

"What is this?" Nikita questioned and Michael looked at her and her glassy eyes. He placed the food down on the couch arm and stroked her face softly.

"Nikita... tell me..." Michael whispered and Nikita stood up and grabbed the food as she turned to the bathroom and started to flood the tub with warm and soapy water.

"Do you have something... I.. could.." Nikita said and then drifted off. Michael nodded his head as he looked at the door. She smiled and closed the door. Michael leaned back and started to rub his face with his hands, knowing that this was not going in the direction he thought it was. He definitely didn't feel like he was in control.

The cell phone rang and Michael picked it up.

"Jacque?"

"Yes." Michael sighed as he felt what little control he felt he had slipped even further.

So much for the weekend.

*

"Nikita..." Michael knocked at the bathroom door as he held a black T-shirt and a pair of black sweatpants in his hands. He leaned to the door and heard that the water had stopped.

"Nikita..." Michael called out again and swallowed. He didn't want to do what he needed to do, but the emphasis was no longer on healing Nikita. It was back to protecting Nikita.

If Madeline knew that Nikita was at his apartment, Michael wasn't sure. He had naturally been called first and he said that he would call Nikita, but it just didn't feel right. He had definitely gotten the most sleep out of the two and he was still tired. Michael swallowed and pushed at the handle of the door.

"AH!" Nikita screamed as she clutched the deep blue towel around her body, with her blonde hair hanging from her head in a tangled mess. Michael looked to the clothes and reached his hands out to show Nikita. She folded the towel and reached for the clothing with a wane smile.

"We got called in." Michael informed Nikita and he watched her facial expression. Until this point, she was off missions and Michael didn't know why all of a sudden she was being put back on them. There had been a discussion that it would be the doctor's final decision on when Nikita returned to active duty and Michael had an agreement with him.

"Why don't you get dress... We'll discuss it... But we don't have much time." Michael said and Nikita nodded her head and looked at the clothing. Michael swallowed and started to step back. "I didn't have anything else... maybe.. in time.. we can make sure...ah..."

"It's fine, Michael." Nikita said with a drawn face, still showing the shock of knowing that she had been called back in. She closed her eyes and waited for the door to close.

"No... it's not fine." Michael softly said, knowing that the door separated them and that Nikita did not hear his sad words. The words that were mingled with regret that he couldn't do more to protect her from whatever Madeline was planning on doing and the fact that Nikita was no where near like she had been before her first accident with the van. All of that seemed so far behind them.

Michael stepped back from the door and stared at it. He never bumbled like that before. He could feel his body tingling, from acting like a teenage boy looking at his first half naked body mixed in with the terrible news he had to deliver. He didn't know if Nikita had noticed it, but he played those nervous words around and knew that they could not have made her feel comfortable at all. And comfort was something that Nikita displayed as something that she desperately needed for physical healing, but more for emotional healing that Michael was doing single-handedly.

Michael moved to the kitchen and started to wrap the croissants in the saran wrap to protect their freshness. Michael wrapped a few onto two paper plates. One plate for Walter and one plate for Birkoff. He knew that both men would be there waiting for whatever this mission was and if Michael ate only croissants for the next week, then he would be rid of them.

"Michael.." Nikita softly said as she stepped out of the bathroom, literally swimming in the clothing he had been able to find. They weren't going to have time to go back to Nikita's apartment and he swallowed. Everyone would know instantly where Nikita had been, but that wasn't his concerned.

With the swimming clothes and her hair all dripping and tangled around her head, she looked as pitiful as she probably felt inside. Anyone could look at Nikita and read exactly what she felt like. She still appeared as if she got run over by an eighteen-wheeler or two. It should have been good to see her standing there, being able to be so independent after such an injury, but that was beyond thought in Section One. It was more about how much further she had to go to back to peak form. Michael knew that it was no where to be seen. Maybe never.

Michael dropped the paper plates that contained the treats for the men that more than likely would help Michael further insulate Nikita from Section One using and abusing her ill-prepared body. He looked at Nikita, trying to get use to the image so that he wouldn't looked shocked when he saw it again in Section One. He rubbed her cheek softly and swallowed. He was so glad that he had been able to use the spare bathroom to shower right after the phone call. He had pulled himself together and was ready to run now.

They weren't going to run now. Michael took one look at Nikita and stopped his hurried pace. If Section One needed them that badly, it would have been an upset Madeline on the phone. The Madeline that was on that phone was the scheming Madeline.

"I can't comb my hair out.... I just..." Nikita said and then broke off. Michael reached for the comb and looked at Nikita, trying not to sigh, knowing that Nikita already felt bad about this entire thing. He was sure that Nikita wanted to heal much quicker than this. In fact, to most people, she appeared more heal that she really was. Nikita truly believed that she needed to get better as quickly as possible. In most cases that would be so. She just didn't know how much power the ghost of Jurgen had given to her, as he had taken so much away from her.

"I know, Nikita. Sit down... I'll take care of it," Michael offered as he touched her head softly. He saw the tears melting at her eyelids, ready to trail down her face again and he waited as Nikita carefully sat down on the floor in front of Michael. He bent to her and gently grabbed the lengths. Slowly he pulled the comb through the knots and tangles. Her hair needed so much attention, it had been neglected for the better part of the month, just because it was too long to hold her hands and arms up in the air long enough to brush and dry her hair.

"About this mission, Nikita..." Michael slowly entered the conversation he was sure that Nikita did not want to get into. In fact, he held onto her hair as she tried to pull her head away, in the basic response to keeping away from a conversation, running away.

"I'm not going to allow them to hurt you more... I won't allow it." Michael firmly stated as he brushed at the length, smiling at the fact that Nikita's hair had quickly turned back to the flowing mane that she had always taken great pride and care in.

"Michael.. You can't stop them if they are going to sacrifice me..." Nikita complained out and Michael dropped the comb and turned Nikita's head to that she looked into his eyes.

"They wouldn't have wasted their time like this Nikita. They would have done it as quickly." Michael said with truthful words. Nikita dropped her head and Michael looked around and grabbed at two rubber bands that had collected on the coffee table. They gathered there because they were always wrapped around the daily newspaper.

"We just have to be smart... and realize that this might not be all about you and me..." Michael softly said as he pulled her hair back and pulled it up into a high ponytail. He smiled at the smoothness, never one to have ever done this to a girl's hair before. He was amazed at the simple joy he was finding in doing this for Nikita.

"It's a bit tight." Nikita commented and Michael loosened it from her head carefully. He smoothed the hair and then divided the ponytail into three sections and started to braid it. If it needed to be changed once the mission profile was read, then he would handle that too.

"Nikita... I will protect you... you know that, right?" Michael questioned and Nikita started to nod her head and winced in pain. Michael turned his head and tried not to register the pain, knowing that he could not worry about that now. Time was late and if they waited around the apartment too much longer, Madeline was going to be ready to teach them a lesson or two.

Michael stepped over Nikita and retrieved his coat. He moved around the apartment quickly, gathering his keys and wallet. He looked around and was turning off the lights at the door as he saw that Nikita was still on the floor where he had stepped over her.

"Nikita?" Michael questioned from the door and she lifted her head and bit her lip tenderly, showing that she was attempting at controlling her tears and outbursts. He stepped away from the door, still keeping it open as Nikita reached her hands up.

"I can't get up... It's too tight." Nikita illustrated and Michael notched his head to the side as he sighed. He hated himself for not knowing that sooner. He felt guilt for walking around the apartment like Nikita was fine, while she was stuck in between the couch and the coffee table.

"Don't just stand there.. Help me up!" Nikita whined and Michael smiled and did as Nikita asked for. He pulled her up and into an embrace. He closed his eyes and pressed a kiss to her ear.

"I promise, Nikita." Michael stated and Nikita squeezed his hand as he kept it tightly with her hand, he wasn't going to drop the connection now.

Damn Section. He wasn't going to allow them to ruin what was just starting over again between him and Nikita.

*

Michael noticed the whispering as he walked down the hallway. He had given the plates to Nikita, knowing that it was something that Nikita would do, but by the time they had reached Birkoff, Nikita was staring off in space. Apparently, she heard the whispering too.

It was the words that weren't always heard that hurt the most. Nikita knew what was being said about her, or at least she had her version of them. She knew she looked terrible, she felt terrible. She tried to pull herself together but this being called in on the mission had thrown her off. Nikita had been told that it would still be a long time in coming and now, two days after that was said to her, she was called in after a long and hard night. She rubbed her neck, and slumped like she was told absolutely not to do. She wanted to hide and not visible to the prying eyes that were glued to her. Slowly she found her way to Michael's office and slipped in.

"Mmm.. food..." Birkoff said as Michael offered the plate. Birkoff pulled the saran wrap off and started to eat quickly, not getting that most often croissants were meant to be savored. Michael looked to find Nikita running into his office. He frowned and swallowed. There was still some time until the briefing and he rolled his head around.

Michael's interpretations of the whispers were so different from what Nikita was thinking. Michael's was probably closer to the truth. He knew that anyone looking at Nikita could tell that she was wearing Michael's clothes. It was that simple. Just looking at her, they had to be wondering why they had a relationship and why were they flaunting int. It wasn't what was happening, but that was what everyone automatically assumed, even thought they all knew of Nikita's injuries and near death experiences of late.

Section One was a gossip house.

"She doesn't look good." Birkoff said and Michael sighed as he looked at the man with half of the croissant out of his mouth. Michael blinked his eyes and saw Operations above. He was not happy either and Michael didn't have to guess why.

"She hides her pain, Birkoff.... It's catching up to her." Michael stated and Birkoff nodded his head and looked around.

"Well... Walter kind of screamed that at Madeline after she called you from my desk... He wasn't happy at all." Birkoff said and Michael closed his eyes. He would have liked the support, but now he really needed Walter's help in other issues and ways. Walter always found out the information that wasn't stated in the profiles and told Nikita it. Sometimes he would notify Michael of the information too.

"So he left?" Michael questioned and Birkoff bobbed his head up and down and looked at the other plate that had been placed. Birkoff grabbed it when Michael stepped away.

"Michael... my office... Where is Nikita?" Madeline decreed as she walked down the hallway with the tall high heels and quickly grabbing a file that was on Birkoff's desk. She stopped when she finally noticed that Michael had propped Nikita up in a chair near Birkoff's area. Madeline craned her neck and took one of the croissants and bit into it. She tilted her head to the side and blinked her eyes.

"What is this, raisin?" Madeline questioned and Michael looked at her, finding her change in mood almost as odd as Nikita never asking for help when she couldn't get off of the floor. Michael stepped back and rolled his eyes to view Birkoff as he happily chewed away. "You would have to ask Nikita."

"Where is she?" Madeline questioned again and Michael looked to the office and then lowered his eyes. He was sure that Operations would have a word or two to tell Madeline about Nikita's appearance before she arrived in the office.

"She is in my office. Is there a reason why we are going to your office? What about the briefing?" Michael questioned and Madeline around as she thought about Michael's statement. She was sure that Michael didn't take Nikita to his office, then it would show that he thought that she was too weak. Something must have driven Nikita back to his office, to retreat into the darkness. She stepped back and smiled at Michael.

"It is only you and Nikita and Operations and I believed that it would be best since Nikita isn't suppose to be active to get rid of some of the ridiculous things, like a full team briefing when it is only going to be you two." Madeline said as she stepped away and retreated to her office.

Michael couldn't stop blinking his eyes, hearing Madeline's words roaring in his ears. Warning alarms were sprouting in his entire mind, not liking one bit what Madeline was doing, as it was a total opposite of what Madeline would have normally done.

She wasn't going to challenge Nikita?

"Michael... Michael..." Birkoff called out and Michael shook his head and looked at Birkoff as he waved a disk in front of his face. Michael grabbed it and nodded his head in thanks.

"Should I be worried about you too?" Birkoff examined and Michael growled lightly at the comment. Birkoff nodded his head, glad to see that Michael was only momentarily thrown off of his feet. Birkoff looked to the office and sighed, knowing that this was going to stink to Nikita. Maybe it was to spare her stress, but it sounded and felt fishy.

"Do you know what the mission is?" Michael inquired and Birkoff rolled his eyes. He threw his hands up and shook his head.

"I don't think this is going to be something that I'm involved with Michael." Birkoff stated and Michael felt the pounding in his chest grow. Birkoff was always involved with Michael's missions. That was who Michael trusted and in the end, the best in Section One.

Why would that change now?

"I know... I don't like it either... but I've been jammed trying to get information, Michael." Birkoff admitted quickly. Michael turned and left the area and moved to his door. He opened into the darkened office and saw the sight in Section One that everyone should see.

Nikita was on his chair, curled somewhat up, with tears streaming down her face as she finally was asleep again. He didn't want to wake her up and he slowly closed the door to the office and entered the darkness with Nikita.

"I'm not asleep." Nikita's voice strained out as Michael moved to the blinds and looked out of them. He turned to turn off the surveillance and Nikita pressed her hand to the panel, showing that she had already done that.

"Something isn't right." Nikita stated and Michael nodded his head as he kissed Nikita's head. He logged onto his computer, wondering that if Walter had anything pass his desk that he would have passed onto him. Nikita stood up and Michael reached for her hand.

"You could have stayed. I'm just checking my mail." Michael said, never wanting to have disturbed her from her position. Nikita shook her head from side to side and moved to another chair. Michael looked at them and frowned. When Nikita was in medical with her back, they were missing. The chairs, some two weeks later were found in Operation's failsafe elevator. There was never any camera images of how they got there.

Chalk another one up to the ghosts.

Michael looked at the list of mail, deleting most of it, as it as unimportant. It amazed him how some operatives found out that they had the time to pass chain letters along. Of course, theirs were always most cryptic..... "If you don't send this letter in 8 minutes to 10 operatives, you will spend 78 hours in the white room as Madeline peals your skin off of your face." It was a waste of time if Michael ever saw one. He probably had a years worth of hours with Madeline in the white room by now.

Michael clicked on a file that he didn't recognized and looked at the sender's name, as it was listed as Nikita. He looked to the side and stared at her as she started to close her eyes again. The time was exactly when Nikita had awakened with her nightmare and how he had to hold onto her. He knew for a fact that Nikita did not send this file.

"What..." Michael muttered as he looked at the name of the file and pulled out a little list that he kept. They were files that Jurgen once had and there it was, sitting in his computer. They were files that were destroyed when they took Jurgen's computer down.

Michael looked to Nikita and carefully opened this file. His eyes flickered over the information and then he moved to Nikita and tapped her shoulder carefully. Nikita jolted her head up and blinked her eyes. Michael rubbed her forehead and took her hand.

"Do you know this number?" Michael questioned as he led her to the computer. She looked at the file and nodded her head.

"That's my number.... My operative number." Nikita stated as she stared to blink her eyes. She was reading the words as did Michael and then he stopped the words. He turned his head and made sure the file was saved in six different locations for safe viewing. He took Nikita's shoulders, knowing that the meeting with Madeline was pending.

"We can't speak of this, Nikita. We aren't to have it." Michael stated and Nikita looked at Michael and blinked her eyes.

"But that file explains why they recruited me!" Nikita exclaimed and Michael dropped his head and hugged her. Michael wasn't sure who was more afraid to read that file, Nikita or himself.

*

It was difficult to walk down the hallway with Nikita to Madeline's office. Michael was unsure if Nikita was pulled together enough from seeing that file, although not in great detail. Neither one of them read enough words to know why she had been recruited, but Michael knew that it was one of the many files that Jurgen had had.

Was the ghost back?

Michael turned his head to view Nikita; she suddenly seemed so unsteady on her feet. It shouldn't have surprised Michael that was the way she normally appeared at home. Yet, this was Section, and Nikita had turned her hardest to appear as she always did, strong and healthy.

The urge overwhelmed his body as he stepped forward and wrapped an arm up and around Nikita's neck. He brought her flush with his body, their sides rubbing together with each movement, a gesture that Nikita found strength in, but one that also showed exactly what was happening between the two. Nikita had wanted to pull away when two operatives walked down the hallway, but she didn't break free. She liked the warmth that was there; she ached to keep the companionship that she never had before.

Madeline had started to get over the movements and sudden closeness between the two operatives that weren't suppose to be together. When her door open, she wasn't caught up with the image of Michael and Nikita being together. She was staring at Nikita, her body that just seemed to be hanging together. It looked as if Michael moved his arm at all, that Nikita would lose all strength and tumble to the ground.

"Michael.... Nikita... Have a seat." Madeline said as she forced out a smile. She watched them move to the indicated chairs and Michael turned and held onto the underneath of Nikita's arm to help support her as she sat down. Madeline knew that with Nikita's injures that it didn't hurt to sit, it hurt to get to the sitting position because her balance had been so thrown off kilter. Madeline waited for Michael to turn from Nikita before she looked at her desk.

"The mission is a relatively easy one... that is why I brought you into it, Nikita." Madeline started out, and Nikita stared at Madeline. Both Michael and Nikita knew that she needed to justify why she was sending Nikita out into the field without the medical clearances that had been promised.

"Easy? Is there ever a mission that is easy?" Nikita challenged and Michael looked to Nikita and frowned. He watched Madeline's eyes flickered briefly with instant emotion, but Michael couldn't read exactly what it was. There was something going on in the depths of Madeline and Michael was going to have to find out what was going on sooner or later. Yet, that wasn't his main concern, the file in his computer was his main concern.

"I said easy because you and Michael will be portraying a young married couple. You two do that so effectively." Madeline complimented and Nikita leaned her head back. It was in an attempt to understand exactly why Madeline had said that. Michael shifted his eyes and looked at Nikita, feeling unsure of the reason why Madeline had said that, himself.

Madeline continued on with her words, describing how the mission was designed to be simple enough for Nikita, that normally a mission as this one, would be handled with one operative. She tried to justify her move by showing how this decision was made just to keep Nikita's feet wet with mission protocol and other reasons as such. Michael had blocked that out as he turned his head and looked at Nikita as she stared at Madeline, barely blinking her eyes and nodding her head.

Michael's thoughts couldn't even stay there. He turned and stood up, finding it hard to listen to the lies floating out of Madeline's mouth. He couldn't explain why he felt so protective of Nikita now. He hadn't felt that this way yesterday when Operations was talking to Nikita and Nikita looked absolutely terrified. Michael was trying to discover why he was thinking this way, to gather the insight into his own thoughts. He knew it all tied back to the nightmare and knowing the hours that Nikita sleeps, which aren't a lot.

"Michael..." Nikita's voice drifted up and he briskly turned around from the wall he found he was staring at, and saw Nikita and Madeline staring at him. He swallowed and moved back to his chair. He noted Madeline's eyes acutely studying him and he was sure that Madeline was aware he had other concerns happening.

"I was starting to explain how this mission is going to flow... that you two will arrive in the hotel and spend the night without having to worrying about the contact... The contact will happen in the morning..." Madeline said and Michael looked to his hands and frowned.

"Who is the contact?" Michael questioned immediately, without waiting for Madeline's words to stop. Michael lifted his green eyes up to Madeline's chocolate eyes.

"I want to go over the configuration for the mission, Michael.. that is much more important."

"I would think the target would be the most important."

"Well, if you were listening to me... all you have to get is a disk."

"Two operatives for a disk?"

"Michael.... You should be more aware of what I said... I've never seen you like this."

"I don't care if you've never seen me like this."

"Are you challenging me for a reason?"

"What if I said yes, Madeline?"

"Michael..." Nikita gasped as she started to move forward. He turned and saw the fierce pain that was hanging on every muscle of her body. Madeline stood up as she saw the eyes, filled with the intense pain that she was going through, but yet Nikita said not another word.

There were no worries about the mission at this moment. Michael rubbed her shoulders and then hoarsely sighed. Nikita tried to lift her purse to Michael, but she found herself doubling over with the pain. Michael stood up and moved to the other side as Madeline picked up her phone.

"That isn't necessary." Michael said as he pushed his hands over the phone and pressed it back down. He took Nikita's purse and withdrew the waiting syringe. He checked the liquid as Nikita tried to lift her shirt up. Michael pushed it abruptly to the side, not wanting and entire production in front of Madeline. He quickly placed the medicine in and rubbed at the muscle.

"Count slowly for me, Nikita.... It will subside soon..." Michael offered as he yanked the shirt back down, covering the exposed white skin. He continued the circular motion with his hands as he listened to Nikita rasp the numbers out to ten and then sigh with a little relief.

"Here... let me help you back up..." Michael said as he took his arms and pushed Nikita back up in the chair. Michael rubbed Nikita's forehead and then stood up to dispose of the needle. Madeline was staring there, just at what happened and then sat down with a dry mouth.

"It was just a bad spasm, Madeline. I can usually medicate myself." Nikita stated and the older woman that usually was so pulled together, gawked at Nikita, finding it hard herself that she was sending her out on a mission. Yet, it was too late, and there were always her other reasons why she was doing so.

"The mission would be getting a file off of Everard McNeil... he is..." Madeline started to say and Michael leaned into her desk and Nikita turned her head to the side.

"That was Jurgen's major contact about Red Cell and Glass Curtain..." Michael stated.

"And the group Verve, who we just became aware of in the past three months," Nikita pitched in and Madeline looked at the two operatives. She felt something that was grating on her nerves, but she couldn't select what was causing at it. She waited for Michael to sit down, and Michael turned his head and looked at Nikita.

Now Madeline definitely knew that something more was occurring between Michael and Nikita. It was that way whenever their eyes met in that way that couldn't be described. Madeline had once mentioned this exact movement that she saw now, how Nikita's eyes would stay still while Michael's minutely flickered and danced from side to side. Then his eyes would stop and Nikita's would mimicked the same behavior. Operations had told Madeline that she was reading too much into Michael's and Nikita's stares, but she knew now, that somehow they were communicating. Sometimes you can communicate small words with your eyes back and forth with a person, but Madeline stared and knew they had an entire conversation.

"He has further information and intelligence on Verge and he does not know of Jurgen's death." Madeline finally said, breaking the communication, impatient with the pause in the conversation.

"Verge is a really small group, Madeline... Is that all that Everard McNeil is passing to us?" Nikita baited Madeline. Suddenly Madeline knew she had no control over what was occurring. She realized that the power was between the two that probably knew the most about Jurgen, but then, that was the plan.

"To be exact, it isn't of your concern what he is passing to you." Madeline pronounced with precise words cutting through the air. She stood up and looked over Michael and Nikita, trying to bring back everything to her control.

"What is with you two?" Madeline questioned and Michael instantly stood up. She looked as Michael looked into her eyes, ready to say something. That was what Madeline wanted. She needed more words to analysis, more words to use to figure out what was going on between the two operatives.

Instead, Michael turned and helped Nikita to stand up, although Nikita had half done it herself. Nikita pulled at the PDA and handed it to Michael. He glanced over it and looked into Nikita's eyes once more. Nikita's eyes only blinked once and Madeline turned to look at Michael.

"We'll leave for the hotel now." Michael stated as he reached for Nikita's hand and cupped her fingers into his fingers. Madeline waited for the door to open and the couple to leave, before she shook her head in disbelief. She only had one thought.

Was that damn ghost back?

*

RUN!

The heart started to pound so hard, that it felt like it was going to break through the chest. Everything was coming in too close. Pushing. Squeezing. It was hard to breathe. It was hard think. It was hard to yell.

RUN!

Tears started to run down the hot cheeks, as the darkness grew impossibly darker than it already was. It was getting cold and hot at the same moment. One finger felt like it was on fire and the other one felt like it was dipped into ice water.

Jurgen.

Everything was stopping, slowing down, not like it was suppose too. The darkness was clamping down on the chest, pushing at the ribs and sternum, making it impossible to exhale the bad gases and impossible to get the good gases in.

RUN!

Jurgen.

Nothing was there to save her. No one was there to pull her out. She was alone and unable to move, again. She tried to push against the darkness, to make it back up, to stop the movement into her own body.

To fight it was impossible. She was going to lose.

"NO!" Nikita screamed out as Michael held her in his arms. He looked around and rubbed her hair softly. They were waiting in a military like section of the airport, waiting for the Section One plane to be loaded with its supplies and ready for take off. Nikita had passed out in his arms, falling to the sleep he knew she needed. But she didn't need this. She didn't need a nightmare.

"Nikita... it is ok..." Michael whispered as he tried to dry her tears. It was important for him to at least help her pretend that everything was fine, although it wasn't. She didn't want everyone to guess that more was afoot than a back injury.

"We can't go." Nikita stated and Michael stared at Nikita like she had just grown and extra body part. He rubbed her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her temple.

"It's a Section One plane, Nikita... Nothing is going to happen." Michael whispered in his soothing voice. He honestly believed his words until Nikita turned her head and looked to him with her eyes. There was something there that Michael wasn't going to deny. He didn't want to believe those eyes, it was so against everything he had ever believed in, but Michael remembered the one thing he could not forget.

Above all else, he believed Nikita.

"No... Michael.. We can not go." Nikita stated as she grabbed Michael's hand and started to push his bones apart. He didn't need that motion to know that she was absolutely frightened in leaving the airport and that she knew that something else was going to happen if they did go.

"But it is a mission." Michael stated out and Nikita shook her head and moved away from him. Michael wasn't going to allow that movement, either. He kept his long and callused fingers connected to Nikita's own long fingers and brought her back by not letting go. He stood up and hugged her tightly into the embrace that she so severely needed in her life in those moments and in the weeks that had passed since her injuries.

"Can't we go in a normal plane? Please, Michael... Don't make me go on this plane." Nikita stated out as the tears rolled out of her eyes as if they were on a sprinkler system. Michael sighed and pressed a kiss to her forehead and led her back to the seats that they had been occupying.

"Madeline... We have to change plans." Michael said as he talked into the cell phone, but never moving his eyes off of Nikita's blue eyes. She hung on every word, still afraid that Madeline wouldn't allow for the change. Michael rubbed his free hand over her knuckles lightly. Nikita dropped her head and started to pray, knowing that if push came to shove, her body would not allow her to go into that plane.

"Madeline, we are not going to make it. I have to take Nikita to the nurse's station so I can get her attention for the spasm... You have her medicine packed away in her bags." Michael said as he stood up and silently nodded for Nikita to start walking with him, back to the main area of the airport.

Nikita couldn't hear the words from Madeline, but she could tell from Michael, that Madeline didn't like what she was hearing. He looked and flagged down an attendant who was in a golf cart scooter and Nikita leaned forward.

"My wife.... We need to go to the nurse's station." Michael said as he continued to hold the phone. The man nodded his head and helped the feigning Nikita into the cart and then Michael hopped on the back.

"I'm not pretending Madeline. Would I be heading to the station now if this wasn't for real?" Michael questioned Madeline, finding it difficult that Madeline was even questioning this point. He was sure that since Madeline saw the way Nikita was when her back had a spasm, how it stopped her entire body, that Madeline was arguing about this.

"Michael..." Nikita gasped out for all involved. The attendant started to drive quicker, not liking the gasp and Michael. When Nikita turned her head for Michael to look into her eyes that was when the real spasm took her body over. Now Michael wasn't pretending the emergency, it was real.

"I just need a regular commercial flight out of here. Do you know what those military planes do to backs?" Michael challenged as he turned and looked at Nikita, now out of real concern. Michael looked and tapped the attendant.

"Drive slower." Michael whispered and the man slowed down. He wasn't sure why, but it was seen instantly, that it was the extra speed that was causing more discomfort to Nikita. She was trying to fight it and Michael kissed the back of her neck.

"I'll have the bags transferred and new identification sent to you in the nurse's station in your bags." Madeline said and cut the telephone call. It wasn't because Michael was so good in articulating what was going on, it was because three operatives placed in the airport visually confirmed that Michael was in fact heading to the nurse's station with Nikita.

After they arrived in the nurse's station, there was nothing else happening, but Michael being with Nikita. He was able to show that he knew Nikita well enough and got Nikita onto a table. They weren't going to disperse medicines and so Michael was left with his hands until their bags arrived back in the nurse's station.

"I'm sorry, Nikita..." Michael whispered as he saw the tears caused by physical pain to puddle on the bed that he had settled Nikita on. The nurses all watched the loving husband of Michael to attend to massaging her back, his hands never moving from the rouged muscles that were causing such pain in a young beauty that Nikita was. They were amazed as five minutes rolled into ten and then ten minutes rolled into twenty and his hands never left her back.

"It's ok..." Nikita whispered back sometime later as she was trying to tell her body to stop rebelling. There were alarms blaring and the nurses left the room. Michael knew if it was a fire emergency that the nurses would have told them to leave, so this was about something else.

It was during this turmoil that an operative entered the station with the bags that Michael knew to be his and Nikita's. Nikita gasped as he pulled his hands away to retrieve the medicine, but he knew in the long run, that small absence of his hands was going to be better once the medicine attacked the muscle.

"What's going on?" Michael questioned as the operative looked around and waited for Michael to administer the shot. Michael pitched the needle into the contamination box and looked to the operative. He was thrusting the papers to Michael and he dropped his head.

"The Section One plane went down right after take-off. It wasn't sabotage.. We are sure that it was mechanical error." The operative announced and Michael turned to find that Nikita sat up to stare at Michael.

"No." Both Michael and Nikita stated together as the shock took over their faces. Michael looked at Nikita and swallowed, knowing how she had saved them from something.

Was the ghost back?

"Survivors?" Michael questioned and the operative nodded his head.

"Yes... but there are a lot of back injuries... several will probably be killed to spare pain..." The operative responded and Nikita snorted.

"You mean spare the aggravation." Nikita remarked and Michael looked at Nikita as she swung her legs off of the bed and attempted to stand up. Michael looked at her, knowing that she was again, pushing her body to quickly.

Nikita's hand was on the cell phone before Michael and the other operative heard its ringing. There was nothing Michael could do to stop Nikita as she moved away, opening the cell phone.

"I just knew." Nikita stated firmly out as she rolled her neck around, feeling the effects of her injuries still plaguing her, even after Michael's heartfelt massage. Nikita wished that his massage alone would have worked, but her body was still working against her.

"I don't care if you don't believe me. I just knew, Madeline." Nikita hissed out with tears filling her eyes, this time not from physical pain, but from frustration. Michael was sure that Nikita didn't like what was happening to her and that she would have loved to have an explanation of how she knew what she had.

"Why can't you just accept it, Madeline... I just knew... and it may have just saved my life... AGAIN." Nikita cried out as she slammed the cell phone in half and started to collapse forward. Out of knowing Nikita so well himself, Michael stepped forward and made her collapse look like she was reaching for his hug. Michael soothed her hair and shook his own head. There was too much going on here.

Was the ghost back?

"Let's go..." Nikita finally remark, suddenly showing the need to be away from the airport in any form and most importantly, away from Section One. They couldn't call back Michael and Nikita while they were on a commercial airliner.

With those words, nothing of this event was spoken about between Michael and Nikita. But, inside of Section, it was talked about on every level, including Madeline and Operations, who felt that suddenly they were purposely pushed out of the dark on something that they weren't sure they wanted Michael and Nikita to have.

*

Michael adjusted his jacket over his body, the material falling perfectly against the lengths of his muscles. He rolled his head to the side with a feeling of relaxed after a long night sleep with Nikita for the most part being in his arms.

Yes, she did have nightmares.

Yes, he couldn't get her to go back to sleep.

Yes, Michael was worried.

He turned to hear the silent bathroom, as Nikita must still be dressing. She had taken a shower, with her hair up so she didn't have to wash it. Michael had waited outside the bathroom patiently, trying to tell himself not to worry, that for the past month Nikita has been able to bath and cloth herself.

Everard McNeil was going to be at their hotel room soon enough, and Nikita needed to be ready for the meeting. They were without Section backup; they were running things by themselves. It worried Michael. Not as much as he was worried for Nikita. He turned and dropped the high heels for Nikita to wear and stepped back to the little table that had been arranged for them. There were croissants, no where close to the perfection Nikita had baked him.

"Michael... can you zip this dress up? I can't get my hands to work right today." Nikita said as she exited the bathroom with her cheeks all red and flustered with the mounting frustration she was having with her body. She lifted her head and looked at Michael as he turned back to assist her. She turned her head away.

"How did I get you?" Nikita softly questioned as Michael touched the nape of her neck and started to pull up the zipper that had been hampering Nikita's dressing. Michael leaned down and kissed her neck softly, not giving a response to her question, knowing that Nikita was just delving into the self-pitying feelings because of nerves of the mission. For some reason, she seemed to have dreamt about Everard McNeil. It was strange to say the least and left one question on their minds.

Was that ghost back?

"Your shoes are on the floor, Nikita." Michael said as he moved back to the table and started to pour the warm water into the teacup for Nikita. He watched the bag of tea float up with the water and start to seep slowly. He turned back to ask Nikita about if she wanted sugar with the tea, since it was a chocolate flavor tea when he saw Nikita, still in her bare feet looking down at the floor.

"What is it?" Michael questioned and Nikita lifted her head and then dropped it. She nudged the shoes with one of her bare toes and pushed her lips together to stop herself from crying, yet again.

"I can't wear these." Nikita stated and Michael looked at Nikita and then at the shoes. "They were the ones Madeline packed for you, Nikita."

"But they are heels!" Nikita exclaimed as she moved away from the shoes and back into the bathroom. Michael watched the door close on his face and he blinked his eyes. He leaned his ear against the surface, afraid that he would detect Nikita crying this close to meeting the contact. Michael closed his eyes, as there was no noise, nothing at all.

"What is wrong with them, Nikita? You can't run from me!" Michael said as he tried to open the door, by pushing his hands to the door and twisting. It was locked. Michael stepped back and went back to the bags. It took him a while to realize that Madeline made the same error that Michael had. A healthy Nikita would wear those shoes, but Nikita had been warned to wear flats because the extra strain the high heels would place on her back, plus, Michael remembered Nikita was still unsteady on her feet.

Michael shuffled through the contents, not sure why Madeline had packed so much for one night. He pulled and pulled until his hands hit the flat shoes. He pulled them out and sighed at the neutral black color they were. He moved to the door and knocked once again.

"I got new ones, Nikita... Just look at them.." Michael offered as the door to their hotel room was being knocked on. That would be Everard. Michael turned his head as Nikita opened the door and grabbed the shoes. Michael didn't have the time to look at Nikita once she was in them and he moved to the door.

Everard McNeil smiled at Michael and entered the room. His arm was in a sling, something that Section One hadn't known, but Nikita had. Michael nodded his head to Nikita as she moved to the little table and took the cup of tea.

"You both know me... I'd like to know you." Everard said and Michael blinked and looked at Nikita. Nikita had opened up the computer in order to make the transfer of funds for Everard's work and intelligence once he handed over the disk.

"Is it important to know our names? Isn't it just important to know that we are Section?" Michael questioned back as he looked up and down the man. He was an older man, but one that had an aura around him. Nikita told him that last night he had three kids and a wife. Michael had accessed his personal file while Nikita was getting ready and found out that Nikita was correct.

"I haven't seen Jurgen for some time and he did leave some intelligence on me for some special operatives. I was wondering if you were them." Everard said and Michael looked to Nikita as she stared at the computer screen. All Nikita could do it reach out and touch Michael's shoulders. He looked over and saw the filled mailbox with hundreds of files saying they were all sent from Nikita. Again, Nikita had spent her entire time with Michael and those files weren't there when Michael checked the computer less than an hour away.

"We can be any operative you want." Michael commented to Everard and the man smiled and laughed.

"Jurgen told me to expect this sort of behavior. But if you are who I think you are, this information is going to be of great value to you." Everard stated as he moved to a chair and sat down. Michael blinked his eyes as Nikita moved away from the computer.

"You know about Project Georges." Nikita stated and Michael turned and grabbed her arm.

"Nikita.... You promised me..."

"We need to find out what it is... You thought they wanted to send me to George from Oversight."

"We have to keep this between us."

"But we don't even know what it is, Michael!"

"Michael and Nikita... How did I know it would be you two I met today?" Everard said as he stood up again and looked at the couple as they stared at him, so flushed with the minor argument that they had. It was all over the one file that disclosed why Nikita was brought into Section. In short, it described that Nikita was brought in from George. Michael took it the wrong way until Nikita found out that it most likely was a reference to Project Georges. Neither of them knew what it was and therefore, did not know why she hadn't been sent and what kept Nikita in Section One.

"I don't know," Michael stated out harshly. He looked to Nikita and then swallowed. "But I have a few ideas."

"Michael... Michael! I swear... Jurgen said that someday that two operatives, two very beautiful operatives would be sent for the information and not himself. He said if it was Michael and Nikita to assume that he was dead and to give you a disk he made." Everard said as he lifted his hands before Michael could get his hands around his neck. Nikita looked to Everard and moved to his jacket and opened it up.

"This disk?" Nikita questioned and Everard nodded his head as Michael pulled out his gun and aimed it at the man.

"Why would you give Section One more information?" Michael questioned as Nikita moved back to the computer.

"It isn't for Section."

"Who is it for?"

"You and Nikita. Jurgen said you two could use it."

"Use it? We don't know why we have it!" Michael shouted as Nikita shut the computer and walked to Michael. She pushed his arm down and looked at Everard.

"You work for Project Georges. Why are you working against them?" Nikita questioned and Everard sighed and sunk to the chair. He looked defeated.

"They aren't who they seem." Everard said as he scratched his arm that was in the sling. He licked his lips as he looked between Michael and Nikita, seeing that their stares were exactly the same.

"We aren't who we seem to be." Michael stated pointedly and Everard nodded his head and took off the sling. He looked around the room and sighed.

"I was once in Section.... You'll see those files in that disk I gave you. Project Georges has slowly but surely believes that they can take Section One out and take Section One's place in the world." Everard stated and Nikita turned away and flung off the shoes in anger. She rubbed her fingers violent across her face, finding a sinus headache pounding away in the deep reaches of her head.