The lines of data passed quickly in front of Madeline's eyes. Each letter was important. Nothing could be missed. The mission of a lifetime was being planned. She could not afford any mistakes. It had to be flawless.

The world had a problem. Actually, the world had a plague that they just didn't know about yet. Madeline knew of him. She had been tracking his movements for years, probably from the time that she raised through the ranks of Level Five to her current position. Her eyes were always looking out for his name and to see if there was an opening.

Madeline's career had built up as his did. The more power that Madeline got inside of Section One and within the whispering voices of Oversight, the more powerful the plague got, and the power started to cause Madeline to worry.

It was simple. He had to be stopped.

There were very few options left now. Madeline looked at the data and realized that there was not going to be a short-term mission here. There was no chance of getting the operatives in and out to get to this man. He was going to have to be infiltrated in another form, in another manner.

In many ways it reminded Madeline back to Michael's blood cover mission. It wasn't supposed to produce an offspring, but as soon as it was clear that Michael would be stuck with Elena for eternity without the son.

Madeline had even had plans on Michael getting Elena pregnant again if Adam would have been a girl. It had been hard enough going around Michael's own precautions, trying to out maneuver the production of a child.

It had been a long time since Madeline thought that there would be mission that would surpass the difficulty of Michael's blood cover, and still have a need to be done. As the lines of data flowed in front of Madeline's face, it was clear that the new mission was going to surpass all that had been done in the past.

A manipulation of the greatest depth was going to be needed. Long term, not as much as Michael's appear, as there would be no need to seduce anyone into falling in love, but a mission that would no doubt stir trouble for years to come inside of Section One.

A bigger manipulation was going to be needed on Operations to allow this mission. It was going to throw off many of the strategic planning that he had just turned into George, but Madeline knew that it couldn't be helped. She had waited to bring this to the attention of anyone, hoping that she could find a small opening to make a big impact. It was going to be difficult enough to create a small opening for a small impact.

Madeline turned her head and picked up the small disk and popped it into the computer. The time for action was now. She looked at the data and started to rearrange it. Still hoping that while working, she would find a way out of this mission.

The man, Ryce Borjas, was going to be the end of Madeline if she didn't act now. She blinked her eyes as she stared at the screen. He had her full attention now. Hopefully, he didn't know that.

~~

Operations sat at the breakfast table, sipping at the long glass of orange juice. He glanced at the glaring screen, wondering about Madeline's absenteeism. It was highly unusual for Madeline to be late for the ritual breakfast. It was where the work of the day started and ended.

"Birkoff, is Madeline in her office?" Operations questioned as his finger pressed down lightly on the button. He sighed as he pulled his finger away. He was getting lazy in his advancing age. The small things that he would have once done by his own power, he questioned others about.

That's what happened when someone got used to power.

"She just left her office, sir," Birkoff replied back as Operations leaned back in the chair. He motioned for the breakfast to be brought in. He hated cold food, as did Madeline. The chef moved quickly to the small kitchen to start the third set of fresh omelets. The other two sets were sent down the food disposal.

The door opened and Operations carefully sipped at the orange juice, not turning to look at Madeline enter, but wondering what happened. He settled the glass down as Madeline leaned over and placed her disk into the computer and tried to force out a smile.

"Something wrong, Madeline?" Operations questioned and she looked up for the orange juice that was being poured.

In the beginning, Madeline believed that she could have pulled together a satisfactory profile in a couple hours for Ryce Borjas. It just didn't happen. The variables continued to come up and the basic needs of Section One were constantly a worry with Madeline. Pulling two important operatives for this mission was going to mess the very basic running of Section One. The complications just continued and continued, until Madeline looked up and realized that she was late for her breakfast meeting.

"We will discuss it soon enough," Madeline stated as she sipped at her own orange juice, trying to settle her nerves before having to discuss Ryce Borjas. Her stomach rumbled and Operations lifted an eyebrow. Sometimes, one would forget that Madeline had needs like food. It was easy. She would often function a good day without food, one of the reasons why Operations began the traditional breakfast meetings. To keep Madeline feed.

He wasn't sure if Madeline realized that.

They ate in silence but Operations eyes were carefully studying Madeline. There had been years of working together between them, but as the years went on, it was more difficult to read Madeline. Operations was often stunned that it had happened, but he sure tried to continue to read Madeline.

When she was tired, he could tell a lot more. This was one of those times. Although she was clearly hungry, she picked at her food and would glance at the computer. It was a nervous habit that Madeline rarely did, but when she did, it indicated something huge was in the works. Something that Madeline felt needed her constant supervision.

"Madeline... what is going on?" Operations demanded as he placed his fork and knife on his half empty plate. He stared at Madeline's chocolate eyes as she looked at him. She looked to the screen and pressed her finger towards the start button.

"This is Ryce Borjas... I've been tracking him for over a decade... And now he has to be stopped," Madeline stated and Operations looked up from the screen and looked at Madeline.

He knew he wasn't going to like this.

*

Birkoff turned to the side to take one gulp of his milk. His eyes were barely off of the screen when he saw Nikita, standing by a computer, with Michael by her side. She looked great. Birkoff dropped the milk down and turned back to his computer.

The importance of his work was critical, he had ordered from both Madeline and Operations to get it done, and quickly. It was a bunch of moving numbers from one account to another and contacting contractors and contacts. It was tedious work. If Birkoff wanted too, he would have had it done by now, but he found things to distract him.

One was easy to identify, the bootleg copy of some computer games.

The second one, just gathered Birkoff's attention, and pulled his eyes off of the computer for the second time in a full minute. Nikita was tossing her hair off to the side, not to flirt; she didn't need to do that with Michael. She truly had to get her hair out of her face. There wasn't a smile on her face, but Birkoff sighed.

She was so beautiful.

"Looks like the boy got wandering eyes..." Walter stated as he moved his way to Birkoff and slapped his hand over the younger man's shoulder. Birkoff shrugged Walter away and made a move for the computer.

Then Nikita laughed.

"Since when is Michael funny?" Birkoff questioned as he turned his head up and stared at Walter. Walter shrugged his shoulders and swallowed. Walter knew how hard and difficult it was for Michael and Nikita's relationship as it was now. They went to hell and back about eight times before they got to this point.

"You still have it hard for Nikita," Walter stated as he looked at Birkoff. His eyes were glued on Nikita. He was practically drooling and Nikita was dressed in a way that Walter would have said was conservative.

"You know... the memories don't go away, Walter," Birkoff stated and Walter shook his head. He did not like that tone at all. There were some things that needed to stay in the pass, and what Birkoff was drudging up was one of those things that needed to die a long time ago.

"Get it straight, Birkoff... You were with Abby. Definitely not Nikita," Walter commanded in a deep voice as he wrenched Birkoff's head around to stare into the older eyes.

Birkoff pulled away and started to type at the computer again. Walter didn't get a response and swallowed harshly. There was no reason for Birkoff to get an idea stuck in his head that was only going to get him hurt.

"It was a year ago, Walter," Birkoff whispered and Walter sighed. He thought that Birkoff had worked all of this out by now. Birkoff even helped with the retrieving of Nikita and Michael's relationship. Now was the most idiotic time for Birkoff to be thinking about putting a move on Nikita.

"Birkoff... let it go. It was Abby. It wasn't Nikita in any form," Walter warned for the sake of Birkoff's sanity. Birkoff nodded his head as he turned and stared at Nikita again. She was standing up and Birkoff raised his eyebrows.

Her body was perfect.

Birkoff shuddered as Michael pulled on her one arm, stretching the muscle. It made Nikita's breast to raise and jut out more from her body.

"Birkoff... Birkoff..." Walter called out as he saw the plastered eyes. If he spoke any louder, Michael and Nikita were going to hear Birkoff, and Walter would be worried. Nothing would stop those two from making it painfully clear to Birkoff to keep his eyes off of Nikita.

"You never know, Walter..." Birkoff whispered and Walter shook his head. He didn't want to be the one to shatter Birkoff's young dreams and loves, but it was better if he did it, other than Michael and Nikita. He pulled Birkoff's chair back and swiveled it away, so Birkoff would not be distracted by the view of Nikita stretching.

That's how bad Birkoff had it right now. It was more than a minor puppy love or sexual lust.

"Boy... this hasn't been an easy go for Michael and Nikita... It still isn't going to be good for them. Not like you are imagining it to be like!" Walter informed Birkoff in a strong and forceful voice. There was no need to beat around the bush.

"But she has someone... And I don't... I'm alone all the time, Walter. Is that right? Abby... with her... I wasn't alone... She loved him..." Birkoff stated and Walter shook his head dejectedly. He was heartbroken over Birkoff's thoughts and feelings. No one as young as Birkoff should be so disillusioned about love and what he didn't have.

"Birkoff... Abby used you. She had no feelings. She was a carbon copy of Nikita, but not Nikita. She is dead now and you have to move on," Walter stated and Birkoff turned and looked over his shoulder. Nikita was leaning over the screen, pointing to an object.

Clearly, Michael and Nikita were going over some intelligence for an upcoming mission, or a scan from the satellites about possible hot areas.

"Michael didn't settle for the tampered emotions of Nikita," Birkoff pointed out and Walter fumed. He just couldn't form the words. To Birkoff, it was perfectly the same thing. But it wasn't.

"Just don't think about it, Seymour." Walter hissed out as he threw his hands up in the air. He wanted to shake some common sense into the genius' mind right now, but he knew to just turn around in a circle, to gain control of his emotions.

"I think about it when I'm alone at night, Walter. I can't control that. Not with the memories... Not knowing that Nikita is home with Michael," Birkoff choked out as he dropped his head. It was hard for Walter not to feel for Birkoff. He did not want to break Birkoff's dreams or wishes, but he had to be leveled out now.

"Birkoff... that is some romanticized notion of what Nikita has... I know for a fact, most of the nights she goes home alone, and comes in here, alone. She lives next door to a snitch named Mick. It isn't a love story that ends with the happily ever after. There is not happily ever after inside of Section One," Walter bitterly stated. He didn't sound like himself, and Walter blinked his eyes.

Maybe he wasn't one of those five percenters he always believed himself to belong too.

"Ok," Birkoff whispered out as he dropped his head lightly. Walter nodded his head as Birkoff turned around and placed his fingers onto the keyboard. Walter turned his head to the side and opened his eyes at the details that were flying across the screen.

"What's all that for?" Walter questioned and Birkoff sighed. He tapped the screen and looked over to the side.

Nikita was still there. She had pulled the zipper down on her dress some. Somebody should make leather illegal for blondes with bodies like that.

"It's a house... for a long term undercover mission," Birkoff spoke, not moving his eyes off of Nikita. She was bending down to the screen. He could see the creamy skin of Nikita's chest peak out of the opening that she had created. If Birkoff was seeing some, Michael must be getting an eyeful.

"Birkoff!" Walter snapped as he saw exactly where Birkoff's eyes had fallen. The young man jerked his head up and looked at Walter.

"She should be more modest around here... We probably do have several sexual predators around here," Birkoff stated and Walter shook his head. He bit his tongue with the rude comment that wanted to come out of his throat. Walter instead, cleared his throat and pointed to the screen.

"Is this a blood cover too?" Walter whispered as he bent down, interested in what was going on. It was a long time since Section One started to move things around like this. Birkoff looked to Walter, knowing Walter's motivations behind this.

He didn't want Nikita hurt over something like Michael being assigned to another blood cover.

"It doesn't look like it. I only have the orders to set it up and hide the connections," Birkoff stated as he looked at the numbers. He still had to move the numbers another four times. He pushed his glasses back some and shook his head back and forth.

"Well... is this house being set up for one operative or two?" Walter questioned and Birkoff shrugged his shoulders.

"There are two rooms that are being hooked up with equipment to give projected images... and some technology rigged in both rooms to make it appear to be doing something... and the rest of the house is basically blank... Might not be a mission making Valentine actions necessary," Birkoff stated and Walter nodded his head and stood up straight. Birkoff sighed heavily.

"Look Birkoff... I don't want to be hard on you... But you'll find a girl someday... A good one who will love you for being Birkoff," Walter stated, as he did not want things to be tense between him and his little buddy.

"I don't know how long I can wait, Walter... Everyone is happy..." Birkoff stated as he turned back and looked at the computer. Walter sighed. There was nothing he could do to make Birkoff understand that almost everyone wasn't happy here.

Michael and Nikita may be together, but it didn't mean that they weren't looking over their backs, wondering what was next. It didn't mean that when the end of the day came, that they walked out of here with their hands in each other and run off to jump into Nikita's bed.

At the end of the day, Nikita went home to her apartment and Michael went to his. Just like Birkoff.

*

It appeared to be a standard mission meeting. Operations stood in the front, outlining the terrorist activities that Ryce Borjas was involved with. He was methodically and was forthcoming with information. It only spoke to the fact that he was stalling for some reason.

Nikita glanced over at Michael, sensing that this was big. Michael didn't look at Nikita's eyes, but he knew that she was looking at him. It was difficult to continue to stare at the hologram screen, as Operations droned on about information that Michael was sure was not important at this point. All the information that Operations was giving was showing that Section One was not ready to get their hands on Ryce Borjas; he was just protected too deeply.

Everyone stared as Madeline entered the briefing and handed the disk over to Operations. He nodded his head and flipped the screen down as Madeline next to him. Michael didn't like this approach; it echoed the way that the briefing of his blood cover mission had gone.

Things were getting damn scary.

"It is impossible to get to Ryce Borjas... We need to set in at least one operative so we can gather new data. As it is now, our data is usually two to three days late," Madeline stated as she looked around the table. Walter's leg was bobbing up and down, indicating that he had feelings of where this was going.

"Don't we predict where he is going to be?" Walter questioned before Michael could part his lips. That was a typical question from Michael. Madeline smiled at Walter and sigh. She hadn't figured Walter into this formula.

"We can't predict anything with him, other than one thing," Madeline stated and stopped. She knew that she had everyone's attention and moved to the edge of the table, before heading back to the center of the table.

"He constantly needs to get computer people when he moves to new headquarters... We can predict what company of his; he is going to take the computer person from. He always choices someone that he can hold something over their heads..." Madeline stated and she watched the operatives to nod their heads. They were waiting to see what their roles in this mission were. Madeline looked to Operations. He still had the opportunity to turn down the mission.

He nodded his head and Madeline leaned forward onto the desk.

"The approach we are taking, is that the computer expert has married an older, much more beautiful wife... The threat that Ryce Borjas will give is that he could make the wife leave the computer expert..." Madeline stated as she looked directly at Birkoff. It was easy to see the young man shiver.

"Birkoff... you and Nikita will be posing as Mr. and Mrs. Hayes for at least a year... during that time, Nikita will be a housewife that has some Internet business... That gives us access to her for missions..." Madeline said and she stood up. Nikita hadn't screamed yet.

"That is taking one of our best operatives out of play, Madeline," Michael spoke up and Madeline leaned her head back. This was not the reaction that she had expected. She expected an outburst from Nikita. In fact, Madeline had predicted a temper tantrum from Nikita, as she proclaimed no way to Birkoff.

"It is a necessary risk. If needed, we can get Nikita to come back for extended stays... Although if we do bring her back... the risk on the missions will have to be minimum... We can't jeopardize this mission... Ryce Borjas is too important," Madeline spoke and Birkoff blinked his eyes and looked to Nikita.

He was even smiling.

"What will we have to do as husband and wife?" Birkoff questioned and Walter groaned and dropped his head. He knew that he would kill Birkoff now if Madeline said that they would have to perform all marriage acts.

"We see no need for you and Nikita to consummate the marriage, Birkoff... You will be playing a couple that got married two years ago... Nikita used to be engaged to your older brother, of which you don't speak to any further... We will use video imaging that we have of you two... well... of Birkoff and Abby, to create love scenes if needed," Madeline explained as she turned her head to view Nikita, who was awkwardly quiet.

"The possibilities of this extending past a year?" Michael questioned and Madeline blinked her eyes. She knew that not only was she shocked with the seemingly role reversal between Michael and Nikita, but the silence of Nikita.

Madeline knew that she had to be upset.

"It will extend as long as we can get information about Ryce and not expose them to being found out... Ideally, we would use them until we have shut down all of Ryce's operations.... Probability and statistics tell us that we have about a four month window with the given scenario once Birkoff is selected as the computer expert," Madeline stated with the facts. Michael nodded his head. Even Michael wasn't acting, as Operations feared that he would.

Both Madeline and Operations knew well the argument they had used in the past with pairing Michael and Nikita together. They did make a good couple in love, but this mission was too long. If Michael and Nikita spent a year together, there would be a bond there that would never separate. Madeline wasn't sure if there was a bond now, but she was sure going to pull hard on it and hope that it snapped.

Madeline would change the plans and make Nikita sleep with Birkoff, to break the bond between Michael and Nikita. It wasn't something that Madeline wanted to do, knowing the difficulty that Birkoff had with such situations and a lingering emotional connection to the events that happened with Abby.

But that was way off in the future.

"When do we get to move in? Do we have to do a mock wedding? How about honeymoon pictures?" Birkoff rattled off and Madeline rolled her eyes. Operations insisted that Madeline do a full briefing on this mission. It was not ideal for many reasons.

Mainly, this reaction from Birkoff was distracting Madeline's attention to those people that she was more interested in, Michael and Nikita.

Nikita still had not spoken.

"The location will not be ready for a week, Birkoff. You know that," Madeline stated and Nikita blinked her eyes and slightly dropped her head. Walter was shifting in his seat, clearly uncomfortable about this. Madeline looked around and swallowed as she stared at Operations.

"We will use the computer imaging we have here to create the wedding pictures and the honeymoon pictures. In fact, the less pictures you have, the less explaining there will be. We don't need either of you for those pictures..." Madeline stated and Birkoff smiled and nodded her head back and forth. He was in his glory.

For Birkoff, this was a dream come true.

"What about social artifacts, Madeline? They will need to have yearbooks... and photo albums from the childhood..." Michael offered the useful information. Madeline hadn't specifically thought of those details, but it was something that would be a challenge. Section One had a great database of images on Birkoff as he grew up, but Nikita would be more difficult.

"We might have to get creative for Nikita..." Madeline stated as she nodded her head in agreement with Michael.

"Where are they going to be? Where is Birkoff going to be working at?" Walter questioned and Madeline looked at Walter. She was wondering what Walter had invested into this. Yes, it was Walter's conversation the other day with Birkoff that made Madeline realize that Birkoff still had some deep seeded emotional issues over Nikita/Abby, but that didn't seem like a good reason for Walter to be so interested in what was going on.

Madeline leaned back as she suddenly realized. Walter was more concerned about Nikita on this one. It was almost sickening sweet to think about.

"There is an advertising firm, Dash, Ford, and Til. They are looking for a new, fresh mind to work on their computers... The men themselves don't know who owns the major shares of the company and our goal will not to be take down that company," Madeline confirmed and Birkoff rubbed his hands together.

It was all sounding better and better for Birkoff.

For Nikita, she just sat there, wondering if this nightmare was going to end.

"All other details are on the panels... Birkoff, Nikita, my office is open to you if you have any questions or concerns about anything," Madeline stated as she stood up. She carefully positioned herself near the wall, watching as Nikita pushed out of her chair and started to walk.

The first thing she did was break free from Michael's grasp. Michael stood there, holding Nikita's panel and staring as Nikita stormed off towards the locker rooms. Madeline, again, was surprised. She was absolutely sure that Nikita would fling herself into Madeline's office so she could pled her case that she couldn't do this mission.

The room cleared out quickly, Walter walking away, shaking his head. It was clear that Walter did not think that this was a good idea at all. Birkoff practically skipped down the hallway. He was probably going to try to push up the work on the house, but that data had now been shut off to Birkoff. He would holler and scream, but it was the best thing that Madeline could do for all parties involved.

Operations had even disappeared, leaving Madeline and Michael standing there, staring in the direction that Nikita had flaunted off too.

"Watch her. I don't want to find out that Nikita has worked herself past the point of exhaustion and is inside of medical. We can't afford it, Michael," Madeline warned as she turned away. Madeline walked out into the hallway, surprised that Michael hadn't moved, but continued off to her office.

None of that mattered at the moment. As long as in about three to four hours, Michael started to make an attempt to get Nikita stop working out, all would be fine.

*

The footfalls all seemed heavy right now. The word of the deep cover mission swiftly made it to the ears of the operatives. Most of that was done with Birkoff, practically cheering at his computer, happily doing his work. It was the first time that Michael hadn't heard sour and sarcastic remarks from the young man.

The other proof that the operatives got of the impending mission was the killer workout that Nikita was putting her body through. She didn't work like Michael did, going through numerous operatives until Operations stopped the flow of fresh blood in. She would work on one machine, over and over again, until someone else wanted to use the machine. When that person finally spoke up, Nikita would proceed to beat them to a pulp and go onto the next machine.

Michael glanced at his computer. It had been four hours.

"Michael.. she has moved onto living victims," Walter stated as he stood next to the door to Michael's office. Michael lifted his head and nodded it. He knew that the switch was going to occur soon. Nikita had frustration to work out and there was no better way of handling it.

Regrettably, it was something that Michael had taught Nikita to do by example.

"Has she had any liquids that you know of?" Michael questioned and Walter solemnly shook his head back and forth. He looked to the wall and stepped into the office.

"About a sip and a half while she moved from the treadmill to the gym floor," Walter informed Michael. Both men knew that it was definitely not enough. Nikita's rational mind knew better than to do this to her body. But her rational mind was definitely not at work here. Her emotions had carried her away.

How Michael wished Nikita had screamed at Madeline. She wouldn't be beating her body up with the torturous workout.

"Aren't you going to go down there? Maybe you can get her to stop now... it won't be too bad..." Walter stated and Michael stood up. He was slowly buttoning his jacket and still looking at Walter. Michael didn't seem to overtly concerned to run down to the gym and stop her. The other operatives had tried, but the ones that were very vocal about Nikita stopping for the day, or at least trying to get Nikita to drink some water, where the first ones Nikita pulled from the group to beat up.

She did a good job.

When Walter left, Nikita was sparring with Davenport. He is a big guy. He would be around for a while. But they were nowhere in the same league. Michael hand trained Nikita with techniques that Davenport never saw in his life. Walter was sure that the big man was heading to medical soon.

"She won't stop until she almost collapses, Walter. You know that. I know that," Michael stated as he walked over to his small closet and pulled it open. Walter blinked his eyes. He didn't even know that there was a closet in Michael's office, let alone the refrigerator from which Michael pulled a bottle of water. He closed the door and moved to the desk, pulling out a couple packets of salt.

"Well, she is sparring with Davenport now... How much longer do you think she is going to go at it?" Walter questioned and Michael looked at Walter and sighed. Michael had his own thoughts about Nikita sparring with Davenport. The two had worked out before, just going through the fight motions. The last time Nikita sparred with Davenport, it had been interesting to say the least. What Davenport couldn't counter with moves, he countered with his bad mouth.

"She could probably go another three hours, Walter," Michael dryly stated as he poured the salt into the bottle and placed the cap back on. Michael slowly raised his head and stared at Walter with blank eyes as he shook the bottle.

Michael was preparing for the worst, knowing that until Nikita was on death's door, he would not call for medical.

"Well... she is going to get awfully messy at this rate. She slapped Davenport right across his mouth, gashed his mouth right off the bat," Walter stated and Michael blinked his eyes. It was a good move on Nikita's part. That kind of injury must have shut up Davenport's big mouth up.

"Walk with me, Walter," Michael stated as he picked up the bottle and started to move out of his office. Michael for a long time was silent. Walter didn't understand why Michael wanted him to walk if he wasn't going to talk.

"This is bothering you, right, Michael?" Walter questioned and Michael just simply stared at Walter. No words were needed. Sometimes Michael's blank stare said enough. "What is bothering me is that Nikita is going to fall hard when she does. Please make sure I have clothing for her in the locker room," Michael stated dryly, ignoring the hanging question that Walter had asked. Walter nodded his head as they turned the corner and saw the small gathering of operatives.

That was something that Michael never quite understood. Operatives didn't like to spar. In fact, most of them would find reasons to get out of sparring, but when Michael or Nikita were into a long workout, the operatives came out of the woodwork.

Even when Michael was training Nikita, there was always a crowd watching. It was something that never seemed to make sense to Michael, although he rarely gave it more than a seconds thought about the phenomena, except now.

"I can't believe that Davenport is still in there!" Walter whooped for joy. He felt that Davenport was doing a great job. Michael blinked his eyes and watched Nikita's body move. She was just playing with him, stretching out this sparring partner before she started with the next one. The hesitation in her moves where done to insure that she didn't knock Davenport out totally.

Michael moved to the door and walked into the gym, knowing that he was noticed. If he were sure that Nikita was close to being done, he would have grabbed a towel. He didn't.

In one move, Davenport was down on the floor and Nikita stepped away. Michael was shocked as Davenport was dragging himself off of the floor; Nikita had already started on the next partner. She didn't wait to see how Davenport was and she didn't even wait for the floor to be clear. It was a dangerous thing for an untrained operative to do. She could have tripped over Davenport, but Nikita was more talented than most thought she was.

For some reason, that dumb blonde image made everyone underestimate Nikita.

"Nikita! Stop!" Michael bellowed out. The only people that heard Nikita were the onlookers. To Nikita, it didn't matter what Michael said. She was too focus on the next partner.

She didn't feel bad. She was working the bad feelings out.

Michael leaned against the wall and looked to his watch. He had to wonder how much longer this would go on for.

~~

Michael looked to his watch two hours and forty minutes later. He could tell. Nikita was getting sloppy, but not enough to get hurt. She downed the partner and stepped back.

"That's enough..." Michael stated and Nikita looked up and connected with his eyes.

Michael was sure that at this moment, was the first time that Nikita realized that he was there. Nikita walked to the wall with unsteady feet and reached for the water bottle.

The cramps started at that point. Michael moved over to Nikita as he glared at the operatives that were left to watch. They scattered quickly, knowing when Michael wanted to be alone with Nikita and when he meant business. Michael pulled the bottle out of Nikita's hand and handed Nikita the one that she needed to drink from.

Heat exhaustion from exercise was not uncommon for Section One operatives to get from time to time. Michael knew how to treat it well, as did Nikita. This time, she just forgot about it, and pushed her body past the brink sharply.

For moments, Nikita's cramps in her legs subsided and seemed to vanish. Michael tried to pull at Nikita's arm as she downed the water quickly. That was not going to do Nikita again good.

"Michael..." Nikita whispered as her body started to fall downward. Michael grabbed her and wrapped a towel around her shoulders and supported her weight by holding Nikita around the waist.

"You have to move around, Nikita... Cool your body down..." Michael issued out as he started to move with Nikita slowly. Her steps were staggered at best. She bent forward and Michael was not surprised to see Nikita clenching her stomach. Although she downed half of the water that Michael had given her in the body, nothing come up. The water was absorbed that quickly into Nikita's body.

"I'll be fine if I sit down..." Nikita stated as she tried to struggle out of Michael's arms. He closed his eyes and swallowed. He had been through heat exhaustion with Nikita before. Never this extreme, but he had. Michael also knew that Nikita had been through his own heat exhaustion.

"Come on... we are going to slowly walk to the locker room... and get you into the shower... hopefully before you cramp too much..." Michael whispered into Nikita's ear. Nikita lifted her head and saw the door for the locker room.

"But you can't go in there..." Nikita stated as she started to lean her body in that direction. Michael sighed as he pulled Nikita away from the door. He wanted her to walk some more, to keep moving, to slow her body down more, before totally stopping. Totally stopping would be no good.

"Nikita.. it doesn't matter..." Michael stated as he moved around the gym with Nikita. Each step was a struggle. Her mind was telling her to sit down, to close her eyes. It was telling her to do exactly what was not good to do. Michael had to fight Nikita for the one lap of the gym.

He didn't avoid the cramps. Nikita started to clench and scream with the wracking pain of the cramps as Michael pushed the locker room door open. There weren't many options for Michael. He hoped that most of the women inside the locker room had been aware of what Nikita had done to her body. With the rumor mill inside of Section One as it was, Michael found it hard that someone wouldn't know.

Still, as Michael headed towards the showers, he heard them running. Michael didn't care at this point. Nikita was quickly losing the battle of the cramps and Michael had to do something.

"Get out!" Michael entered the showers, fully dressed with the dressed Nikita. The women scurried, grabbing at the towels and covering themselves. Some even shrieked as if they were still in high school. Michael moved to the showers and turned three of them on, to give Michael the ability to move around with Nikita.

"Nikita... talk to me..." Michael commanded as he moved forward and placed both of their clothed bodies into the stream of the warm water. Michael balanced Nikita on his body as he started to remove her shirt.

"It hurts... I can't stand..." Nikita moaned out and Michael nodded his head. He dropped the wet shirt down to the floor and held Nikita again. She needed to know at this point that he was going to support her weight that he was going to take care of her.

"I'm not going to let you fall, Nikita. I just need you to keep on talking to me," Michael stated as he rubbed at her shoulders. He looked around the stalls, wondering if the entire locker room had emptied out. He hoped so.

Rubbing Nikita's shoulders weren't going to do much right now. Michael needed to get to her legs and rub out her thighs. He also had to get rid of the rest of the clothing that was on Nikita. Michael looked around and moved with his foot. He was able to pry Nikita's tennis shoes off with his own feet.

"Nikita... you aren't talking..." Michael warned out as the water pelted his face.

Nikita's hair hung in front of her face, dripping. Michael leaned down and balanced Nikita's body on his. He pulled the socks off and worked on the shorts and underwear.

"Michael... I don't want to do this mission..." Nikita stated and Michael leaned up and cupped Nikita's body next to his. He reached down and did his best to rub at her thighs. Her eyes were drooping. She wanted to sleep and Michael couldn't blame her. But now was not the time. Michael had to replenish Nikita's liquids and get some sort of salt intake inside of her body before it entirely shut down. The shower was only serving on cleaning Nikita's body and easing the cramps.

"Nikita... we'll talk about that later... We need to worry about this now..." Michael said as he pealed the sports bra up and over her body. Nikita hung her head down, not in shame, but in sheer exhaustion.

"Nikita... please... talk... Tell me a story..." Michael stated as he continued to hold her in the spray of the shower. He lightly kissed her neck, begging Nikita to speak. He wouldn't allow her to lapse too far into the heat exhaustion. Michael couldn't bear to think that if Nikita pushed her body too far that Nikita would be spending the week before she went on a deep cover mission inside of medical.

"Jack and Jill... went up a hill... to... to..." Nikita started out and Michael swallowed.

A nursery rhyme was all that Nikita could think of.

"To fetch a pail of water..." Michael filled in for Nikita.

~~

"Nikita... you need to drink that water..." Michael stated as he walked back into the bedroom and looked at the sagging Nikita. They were in his quarters, Michael trying to force the liquids into Nikita's body. It was a task unlike any other task he had to do. He had taken care of Adam when he was sick in the past. The boy would be crabby and wouldn't cooperate. Nothing Adam did compared to Nikita.

She just wasn't used to being taken care of.

Nikita looked to the water and pushed the glass off of the nightstand. She leaned her head back and looked at Michael with her blue eyes ready to drench themselves with tears. Michael knew the words that would roll off of Nikita's lips any second yet.

"Can I sleep now?" Nikita questioned and Michael shook his head. He turned back to go retrieve more water. He knew that now all that Nikita could think about was sleep. Yes, her body needed it, but liquids were more important.

Michael retrieved another glass of water and moved back to the bed. Michael sat there and lifted the glass to Nikita's lip. He tipped the glass back. He was forcing her to swallow the water. Michael watched Nikita swallow and pulled the glass back softly.

Nikita stuck her tongue out. "It's so bitter!"

"It's the salt, Nikita..." Michael informed Nikita. He reached up and touched Nikita's forehead carefully. He stared into her eyes. He was frightened with what he saw. She wasn't down with the torture. Michael saw the plans again in Nikita's eyes. He knew that the next day would be no easier than this.

"If I finish this glass, can I go to sleep?" Nikita questioned and Michael nodded his head. He would make sure to wake Nikita up every hour to get more water, but that didn't matter. Nikita's primary thought was about sleep. To give her sleep as a motivation to drink this glass of water was the best thing that could happen.

Ten minutes later, Michael stood at the door as Nikita snuggled down in the sheets of the bed. How he wished he had made it to Nikita's own apartment. Michael was sure if he had been able to get that far with Nikita, that he would have been able to do something more with her, to get Nikita to talk. She didn't talk here.

She just spoke of going to sleep.

And she made plans inside of her head that Michael could only guess about. He was sure that they weren't good plans.

*

The happy dreams of the night before shattered before Birkoff's eyes. He had known that Nikita had worked out harshly after the briefing. He had even seen them drag Davenport off to medical. But Birkoff wasn't scared. That was a typical Nikita reaction. It occurred whenever there was a threat that she would be separated from Michael too long.

A year was definitely long.

Birkoff dreamed of his life for the next year last night. It was filled with splendid dinners, taking Nikita to the movies, and coming back with Nikita on his arm. Did Birkoff actually believe that all of that was possible? He wasn't sure. There was a dream there that could come true. For some people, dreams did come true for.

Then, as Birkoff was walking to wardrobe to select some clothing and to try on some other clothes, Birkoff found a group of operatives surrounding the gym again. It sparked his attention.

Until he say who it was.

He watched Nikita's sharp moves. Even with the horrendous workout she punished her body with yesterday, she was back in the gym, moving as if she was as strong as yesterday, if not stronger. Birkoff swallowed. He knew that Michael had to have nursed her physically back, but he hadn't been able to stop Nikita's anger.

He was frozen there when Davenport stomped down the hallway and pushed his way into the gym.

Some men never learned.

He spat at Nikita, and effectively, Nikita told Davenport to take a number. She turned around and slammed a kick into the stomach of the operative. It was early for Nikita to be sparring.

It was going to be a long day.

Then Nikita turned and saw Birkoff. Her eyes were enraged as the operative tried to take advantage of Nikita's lack of attention. With her eyes firmly glued on Birkoff, she made a point to Birkoff. She kicked her leg up and knocked the operative down with just lifting her leg. The operative was out cold as the others were worried. Nikita looked to the door and rolled her finger to Birkoff.

No way in hell was Birkoff going in there. He did the next best thing, run far away. Now, Birkoff stood in front of the door of the one person who could possibly make the next year of Birkoff's bearable, at least to the point that he wasn't worried that Nikita was going to hurt him without blinking her eyes. It was a hard thing to do, and slowly, Birkoff entered Michael's office and closed the door.

"I know that she is working out again. Give her about three more hours and I'll get her," Michael stated without blinking his eyes or raising his head. Birkoff cleared his throat and pulled a chair over in front of Michael's desk. Michael's response made Birkoff wonder how many people had already seen Michael about Nikita.

"I'm more worried about her breaking my neck during the mission," Birkoff spoke out, with a voice that echoed in the office. Michael lifted his head and stared at Birkoff. The younger man leaned forward, to speak, when Michael shook his head.

He had to secure the room first.

"She isn't going to kill you, Birkoff. She is frustrated at Madeline and Operations at this point. The more operatives she can hurt, the more she hurts them," Michael explained and Birkoff shook his head. Michael knew Nikita, which meant; Birkoff felt that Nikita's logic was lousy.

"I'm worried..." Birkoff stated and Michael blinked his eyes. It was clear that Michael did not care for Birkoff's words at this point. The younger man shrunk back against the chair and swallowed harshly. The glare from Michael's eyes was far more than a blank stare, or even an implied threat. It was violence.

"If you were so worried, you wouldn't have celebrated last night at the bar with the guys," Michael dryly commented as he stood up and opened the door for Birkoff. Michael blinked his eyes, as the image of Walter was right there, reaching his hand out, as if he was ready to knock on the door.

It would be Walter's fifth trip of the day.

"She is going at it again with Davenport, Michael," Walter reported and Michael looked to Birkoff and narrowed his eyes. Birkoff slowly stood up and moved out of the office. It was clear that Michael was not going to discuss Nikita any further with Birkoff, at least, not on this day. It wasn't jealousy that caused Michael's mood. It was far from jealousy. It was worry, to state it mildly.

"If Davenport is that pigheaded, to spare with Nikita again, I hope she wins," Michael stated as he turned and walked back into his office. It wasn't that Michael expected Walter to allow it to be. He didn't. He entered the office and moved towards the desk. Walter was leaning over the desk before Michael even turned around.

"You got to do something, Michael. She is going to destroy her body before this mission... and she will be too sore for you to... well, you know!" Walter stated as he stared at Michael. Michael knew exactly what Walter was talking about, but his silence continued to fluster Walter as he turned around in a circle.

"Come on, Michael! Don't you want to spend some... quality time with Nikita before this mission?" Walter questioned in a stiff whisper. Michael blinked his eyes and leaned in closer to Walter. Walter was a very passionate man when it came to Nikita and Michael knew not to allow the old man to squirm too long. It was bad for his heart.

"You mean, I should leave her with an impression?" Michael stated as dryly as ever and Walter swallowed. It would have been funny if the situation were vastly different.

"That is the most crude you can think of Walter," Michael hissed a second later. Michael narrowed his eyes and cupped his hands tightly around Walter's neck. The man was trapped, with just Michael's light touch. "I am going to love her until she leaves and when she comes back. If that means that all I can do is walk around with her when her legs threaten to cramp and feed her orange juice in the morning, that is what I will do."

~~

It wasn't a quick battle between Nikita and Davenport. He was fired up that Nikita sent him to medical the day before for four hours. Four hours that he could have had in downtime. He spat out slurred words, his lip still swollen from Nikita's slap across his face.

Madeline shook her head as she saw the big man, out cold, on the gurney. He lasted an hour. Although the operatives claimed he was close to getting Nikita down and having her finish this torturous day, Madeline didn't believe a word of that. Madeline knew that Nikita, if she could, would fight all day.

That was not something that Madeline was going to allow to occur. There were too many things at s take here and Madeline was not about to allow her plans to go down the drain. The hunt for Ryce Borjas would go a lot easier for everyone involved if Nikita felt on this mission with somewhat decent thoughts and feelings about Section One.

Madeline didn't need to order Michael to take care of Nikita. She knew and realized that he would do that without being told to do so. But, Michael had to do more than just take her to bed and rub her cramping muscles out. He had to make love to her.

And Madeline didn't even think about ordering Michael to do that. Nikita was a talented woman and knew Michael well. Nikita had learned how it feels to have Michael use his training to seduce her. Madeline was aware that Nikita would catch Michael in that mode pretty much after he said the first word.

But Michael still needed a push.

"I'm disappointed with you, Michael," Madeline spoke as she inched her way into the doorway. Michael had heard her heels. He had prepared for her. His computer was tightly closed and he was staring at her with his green eyes.

The green eyes were a good beginning for Madeline. At least she knew that Michael was thinking about Nikita.

"I do not know what you are speaking about," Michael stated coolly back. Madeline blinked her eyes. Another thing she realized as she stared at Michael is that they could speak for hours, throwing back these needless and meaningless sentences and achieve nothing.

That was not the point of this conversation.

"Nikita. Davenport actually has a broken jaw this time," Madeline stated and Michael nodded his head and looked to Madeline with a slight smile.

"And she didn't break her hand? I must have trained her well enough," Michael commented and Madeline was almost tempted to smile. Sometimes she wondered where Birkoff got his biting sarcasm. Madeline was sure that Michael had something to do with Birkoff's personality. Madeline was sure that Michael was never aware of his impact on Birkoff, and how Michael could avoid this jealousy and boasting with just talking to Birkoff like a human being.

Often, Michael was accused of being a robot.

"Yes, you trained her well. You just didn't train her to stop," Madeline snapped back, pulling back her own rambling thoughts of other ways of approaching this situation. It was not the hope of Madeline that she brought Michael and Birkoff into a brotherly bond before this mission. That kind of bond meant nothing to Madeline now. What matter was that Michael and Nikita were cemented before she left, and that it happened almost without Operations knowing about it.

"We all have those days, Madeline," Michael warned, pointing out Madeline's vast generalization on Nikita and oversight of what almost every operative did at least once a year.

"Fine... But now it has to stop. Operations is not too keen of the occurrence and he will use extreme measures, Michael," Madeline stated and Michael nodded his head as he stood up. He folded his hands in front of his waist and then lightly allowed his lips to curl up.

"See, given any other scenario, I would think you were threatening Nikita with cancellation. I know better. This mission is too important to you. You assigned Nikita to it for some reason," Michael stated and Madeline dropped her head slightly. She was glad that Michael was finally getting the point.

She wanted Nikita on this mission.

The compassionate, loving, and passion filled Nikita on this mission. Nikita was the only person inside of Section One that Birkoff could work with for a year, even if he did have this wild dream on his mind of what that relationship may be.

"Yes, I hand picked her for this mission before I selected Birkoff, Michael. Now make sure she is delivered back to Section One for the mission in one piece," Madeline snapped as she turned and Michael watched Madeline leave.

She had just given her permission to Michael.

~~

"Don't you dare try to sit down," Michael ordered as he draped the coat over Nikita's arms. She had worked well past what Michael believed that Nikita could do after yesterday. Her moves had been sharper and she lasted almost a full hour longer than yesterday.

It also meant that she was crashing hard and fast.

"I can't move, Michael... Just take me to the quarters..." Nikita stated as Michael picked up the hat and placed it over her head. She needed to cool off and she did not understand why Michael was bundling her up. Nikita turned her head violently away as Michael tried to get her to sip the salt water.

"We aren't staying here... we are going to walk to my place," Michael stated and Nikita lifted her head and her wide opened eyes stared at him like he grew a second head.

"That is ten minutes away, Michael! On a good day! Please don't make me... please," Nikita begged as her body threatened to shut down further. Michael shook his head and continued to move her down the hallway. He knew that the eyes of Section One were plastered on him. Nikita was not being careful to watch her emotions now. She was in serious pain and it was only going to get worse if Michael couldn't get Nikita to walk with him.

"Here... drink some water..." Michael said as he pressed the wall and the door opened. Nikita took the bottle and looked at Michael. He knew that she was about to throw it far down the hallway. Nikita just couldn't lift her arm to throw it down the hallway. Slowly, Nikita took a sip and winced with the salty taste.

"Come on... walk Nikita..." Michael stated as he urged her forward.

Michael didn't know how far they would get until Nikita's body would quit. Michael was sure that he would end up carrying her for some length. He couldn't guess at what that length would be at this point. He struggled to get Nikita to continue stepping, but he continued.

It was his job to make Nikita feel better, so he could feel better.

So they could hold each other and bask in those few days before they had a long year ahead of them.

*

Michael was never one to worry that he had made the wrong decision. Sometimes things did not happen as he planned, but never did Michael second-guess his decisions. Until now. Nikita was shaking in the horrendous cramps from the workout. Michael could barely keep her in his arms as she rocked back and forth. He had carried her for most of the time, as the pain just doubled her over and stopped her legs from working.

She was deteriorated and had dropped the water bottle several blocks back. It was a relief to see the door to his apartment, but it was also a scary thought. He had to worry about what would happen if Nikita didn't allow him to do what needed to be done. He started to worry that he had made the absolute wrong decision about all of this.

Most of Michael's mind told him that right now, Nikita should be inside of medical, lying next to Davenport and his broken jaw.

"I'm going to get you water, Nikita... Now, try to relax," Michael stated as he settled her body down on the couch. She instantly curled forward as Michael took hurried steps to the kitchen to pull the bottles of water out. If he had to sit there and force the water down Nikita's throat, he would do it.

"Nikita, you have to sit back and drink this," Michael stated as he walked back to the couch, holding the container of salt in his hands. He opened the lid and was surprised as Nikita opened her mouth to willingly take the liquid into her body.

Now Michael realized that the pain was scaring Nikita.

Michael shook the bottle a few hard times, dissolving the salt into the water and handed the bottle as he pushed her back on the arm of the chair and swung her legs up on the cushions. In a hurried motion, Michael rubbed one thigh as his other hand untied at the shoes and threw them off of Nikita.

"Don't drink too fast, Nikita. Sips," Michael directed as the second shoe dropped soundly to the floor. He watched as Nikita struggled with the tense arm to move the bottle away from her lips. She was shaking with the seizing muscles, protesting the way that Nikita had used them over and over again for a long eight hours.

"Nikita... I'm going to rub your legs down first... They have they big muscles," Michael explained as he leaned further to the couch and used both hands to rub around the thighs. Nikita winced lightly, but Michael could not assess if it was from his touch or from the tension that was rattling her thin frame from the tempter tantrum the muscles were having.

"Nikita.. I want you to slowly sip that water... And in between sips I need you to talk... No sleeping..." Michael ordered out, but his voice was deceptively soft and kind. The knowledge that Michael had just started to work automatically, even as his heart rate raced off, worrying that this was Nikita and nothing could happen to her.

"There is nothing for us to talk about but the mission..." Nikita stated out and Michael looked up from her thighs, which were starting to give. Michael felt the line of beaded perspiration on his brow, but he could not risk moving his hands for the short gesture.

"We have to talk about something else Nikita... Now sip some water," Michael stated as he looked at Nikita's pale, yet flushed face. She leaned her head back and took the water.

Michael watched her throat move, indicating that she was swallowing the water down.

"Nikita.. you are gulping..." Michael warned as he reached up and pulled her arm down. He watched as the water dribbled out of her mouth and down her chin. Now her mind had picked up on the fact that her body was thirsty, Nikita stuck her tongue out in an effort to get that precious water into her mouth.

"I just want to finish this bottle... I'll drink the next one slower," Nikita pleaded and Michael shook his head as he moved his hand to Nikita's calves. She leaned her head back and moaned in relief. It was short lived as the pain started to intensify in Nikita's back and shoulders.

"Nikita, you need to sip... And talk..." Michael repeated himself. He knew that he would repeat himself often now. On some level, Nikita's mind knew exactly what she had to do.

It was programmed to do what Michael and Section One had trained her. But now, as Michael rubbed at her legs, her mind was allowing him that control, so she could worry about other things.

"About what?" Nikita questioned and she took a hurried sip. Michael watched as Nikita pulled the bottle away from her lips. It appeared as if she was going to listen to his orders when she desperately needed to listen to Michael's every word.

"We have some down time... Tell me what you would like to do... Is there something you would like to do?" Michael questioned as he leaned his arms forcefully into her legs. Her muscle tone to start with was fabulous. There was no fat anywhere on her body, but that only made the cramps harder to work out and isolate. Michael was afraid that he would hurt her if he pushed too harshly, but as he soon found out, he couldn't move his hands hard enough.

"I want to go to that museum..." Nikita stated as she lifted the bottle and sucked the last of the contents out. Michael reached down to the floor and with one hand, preparing the next bottle. He lifted it and watched as Nikita worked against her cramping arms to grab the bottle.

"What museum?" Michael questioned as his hand joined back with the other one in the effort to stop the rebellious muscles.

"It is supposed to have Muppets in it.. a display?" Nikita questioned and Michael nodded his head. He patted Nikita's left leg and isolated Nikita's right leg. It was her dominant leg and would need infinite more time devoted to it.

"Yes.. I heard about that exhibit... We can go," Michael stated as he looked up at Nikita. She took one long gulp of water and dropped the water bottle away from her mouth.

"Michael..." Nikita stated as she stared at his eyes. They had a long way to go through this night. This was just the beginning of what Michael was going to do for Nikita, to stop the fight inside of her body.

He just didn't know if he could stop the battle that was raging in her head.

But he had to try.

~~

Walter opened the door to the bar and hurried down the few stairs, heading towards the crowd that surrounded the bar itself. The glasses were clanking about and Walter noticed a few heads that he knew from Section One. It was a nice bar. It was a place that Madeline didn't bother to monitor too often and a place for some Section One people to make real friends.

Rather, they made friends as real as they could get.

Walter rounded the corner and looked at the man who just the other day was leading the bunny hop around the bar. Last night, Birkoff was the man who was as celebrating everything that was good in life.

"You going to drink that beer or just stare at it?" Walter huffed as he hunkered down on the stool next to Birkoff. He watched Birkoff's eyes trace the line of the bottle and then to look over at him.

"Why are you here?" Birkoff questioned and Walter raised his hand for a beer also. He waited and smiled as the foam curled over the lip of the bottle and started down.

"Ah.. good beer... Aren't you going to drink yours?" Walter questioned again as he down a guzzle or two. Birkoff picked up his beer and daintily sipped it. Walter turned his head and rolled his eyes. He was sure that the kid would never learn how to do things like a man.

"Who do you think is going to kill me first, Michael or Nikita?" Birkoff questioned and Walter whistled loudly. It was a deep question for such a young man to be thinking about right now. Walter looked down and saw that Birkoff was deadly serious.

"Unless you do something that is totally out of character, they may hit you and punch you, but they won't kill you," Walter commented immediately. It was the flat out truth. It stung Birkoff to hear it, but he needed to hear it.

"Even though I'm going to be with Nikita for a year... You think Michael is going to let me just be there?" Birkoff questioned, showing that right now, that ideal dream that was in his mind for such a long time, was starting to take on the taste of realism of the situation. The Nikita that Birkoff was going into this mission with was a Nikita that loved Michael unconditionally.

"He trusts Nikita... and he will only interfere when it comes down to Nikita's well being. The key here is to stay on Nikita's good side," Walter informed Birkoff with a slight shrug of his shoulders. Walter didn't feel that it was that hard to figure out. The two were almost like cause and effect. You can't have the one without the other.

"She has a good side?" Birkoff blurted out as he turned around on his stool and leaned against the bar. Walter observed as Birkoff stiff gulped at the beer, polishing half of it off in that one movement.

"I know what you saw today and yesterday was not a good representation of Nikita..."

"Hell no, it wasn't Walter! She gets angry. She throws temper tantrums! She doesn't go and completes her best impression of Michael being Robocop and shatter Davenport's jaw!" Birkoff shouted and Walter turned around on his bar stool. Walter roughly pulled Birkoff up by the collar of his shirt so Walter could make sure that the computer expert, who was truly scared out of his mind, could watch all of Walter's words.

"First, Davenport deserved that. He called her some names that I don't dare to repeat in public, boy!" Walter distinguished immediately. He watched Birkoff swallow, which allowed Walter to loosen his grip on Birkoff a little.

"Second... Sometimes Nikita doesn't know how to deal with her emotions... and she has to act out what she is feeling... I know that right now, she is feeling the pain for her decisions... And now you are feeling your pain for your decisions..." Walter stated as his voice started off firm, but slowly turned tender. The words were smacking firmly into the truth.

"You mean... you think I know that I shouldn't have celebrated yesterday?" Birkoff questioned and Walter nodded his head as his hands found his beer again. Walter loved the feeling of the liquid rolling down his throat. He sure didn't get out into a bar often enough to enjoy something as simple as a beer.

"It could have been handled better... But you celebrated because you are just as scared as Nikita..." Walter assessed as he nodded his head.

Birkoff nodded his head in agreement.

~~

"Did the bath help, Nikita?" Michael questioned as he placed Nikita down on the bed and handed her another bottle of water. He slowly rubbed Nikita's wet hair back and forth, drying it enough so he could drop the towel away from her head. She slowly sipped the water.

"A little..." Nikita finally stated and Michael nodded his head slightly. There was a vast improvement in her legs. They were definitely something that Michael did not have to prioritize to work on. In smooth movements, Michael adjusted Nikita's body to where he could rub her back and shoulders out, but without hampering Nikita's intake of water.

"Maybe sleep will help..." Nikita stated and Michael shook his head as he leaned over Nikita's naked body to stare at Nikita's eyes. He wasn't even affected by her beauty at the moment. Nikita lifted the bottle to her lips and took another sip.

"I know... Sip the water and talk," Nikita commented as she dropped the bottle away from her mouth. Michael nodded his head as he reached for some lotion and placed it in his hands.

"And tell me if any of this hurts... Its so hard to tell if you pulled any of these muscles when they are so tight," Michael commented and Nikita nodded her head. She captured the top of the bottle and swallowed quickly three medium size gulps.

Michael rubbed at the middle of the shoulders first, slowly working out. He looked at the fine skin and swallowed as he sunk to the bed some more. He was tired himself, from the tender care that he had to administer to Nikita.

"Sleep, Michael... When do I get to sleep?" Nikita questioned again and Michael sighed. She was so insistent on this point. Of course sleep would help the body heal itself, but this was something that it needed to have done to it too. Nikita wouldn't stand up in the morning if Michael didn't rub those long and overused muscles.

"You'll sleep when I wrap my arms around you and hold you tightly," Michael spoke out in affectionate words. Nikita leaned her head down slightly. She was quiet for several long minutes.

"I'm not holding you yet," Michael spoke out quite loudly. He ran his hand down to Nikita's lower back and her entire body jumped as she hissed. Michael pulled his hands up slightly; releasing the pressure he had applied to those muscles.

"Must have been the kick to Davenport's jaw..." Nikita murmured, indicating that she was close to sleep, even with the pain that Michael had just caused.

"You broke his jaw, Nikita. You do know that?" Michael questioned. He knew when Nikita's head jerked open, that she was again, fully awake and aware, but also shocked with Michael's announcement. No one was probably had the nerve to tell Nikita of the impact that she had on Davenport.

"I didn't know I hurt him that bad... but he deserved it," Nikita declared and Michael slightly nodded his head. He was going to have to retrieve the video of the sparring to view what occurred and to listen to the words. Nikita's words were cold about a fellow operative that often was a man that wouldn't kill a fly.

"I heard he called you something... that must have hurt," Michael stated and Nikita tried to turn her head to look at Michael. Michael responded by positioning his hands on Nikita's neck and rubbing the knob there, feeling the connection of throbbing muscles.

"Can we talk about something else?" Nikita finally whispered as she allowed the empty body to drop to the floor. Michael was tempted to get another bottle of water, but thought that she had probably had more than enough for now. Michael tilted his body forward to place a supple kiss on Nikita's back.

"What would you like to talk about?" Michael questioned, allowing Nikita to offer a subject to be spoken about. At least Nikita wasn't saying nursery rhymes like she was forced to do yesterday. Michael waited as he rubbed his hands lightly down Nikita's upper arms and then back to her neck.

"The mission, Michael..." Nikita spoke with a sad voice. Michael's entire body jumped. He wanted to talk about the mission also, but felt that now, as both of them hung onto the conscious world, that the conversation would be pointless. But if he denied Nikita, he didn't want Nikita to think that he did not care about her wants and needs.

"Just one thing about it, Nikita... And then we will sleep..." Michael directed as he knelt on the bed and pulled his hands off of her back. She turned, pulling the bedspread with her to cover her bare chest. Michael blinked his eyes as she reached out and touched his chin lightly.

"Will you still love me if I'm gone for a year?" Nikita questioned and Michael gasped. He couldn't believe that Nikita contained this concept that his love for her would vanish if she wasn't there as a constant reminder. It was something that Nikita would be a victim to think about, as that was her childhood.

"Of course, Nikita... I am going to love you.. until the end of time... and beyond," Michael avowed as he nestled his face down next to Nikita's.

Michael didn't undress. He cuddled up to Nikita and held her tight, as they stayed like that all night. Two bodies, trying to find each other and to stay together forever.

*

Madeline slowly walked down the few stairs down to her office. She lingered over towards her flowers as Birkoff walked down the same stairs and came to a halt. It was a tense situation, and Madeline smiled as she turned around and offered Birkoff a seat in front of her desk.

"Is this about the mission?" Birkoff questioned as Madeline adjusted her weight in the chair. Madeline simply dropped her eyelids and looked up at Birkoff. The question never had to be asked. Birkoff had to have thousands of questions in his mind that he needed answers for. This one, he knew before Madeline even escorted him to her office.

"We have to discuss the finer issues and your behavior in the interim," Madeline spoke and Birkoff nodded his head. This too, Birkoff on some conscious level expected. Ever since Walter spoke his harsh words the night before, Birkoff looked critically at his reactions and knew that some sort of corrective statement would be given to him via Madeline.

"Is this on the record?" Birkoff questioned and Madeline looked around. She slowly smiled.

"No. This is strictly between you and me and of highly confidence," Madeline spoke and Birkoff blinked his eyes. He wasn't a naïve child any longer either. He looked around the office, showing that he had not enough prove to believe Madeline's vague words that she probably muttered to thousands of operatives in the past year alone. "I have more at stake in this than you know. And only you and I know about this conversation."

"What's so important, Madeline?" Birkoff questioned and then he leaned back. Madeline hadn't moved, but her eyes glared at Birkoff. If looks could kill, Birkoff would have been cremated in that second.

"Nikita is not Abby, Birkoff," Madeline stated firm. Birkoff dropped his head. He knew that. He painfully knew that. It took him two days, but Birkoff knew that.

"I have been immature for a couple days, Madeline. I admit that. But I would never do anything to hurt Nikita," Birkoff spoke out, showing his genuine emotions to Madeline.

She simply blinked her eyes again. Either she didn't believe his words, or she knew that he was going to say that sentence just as he had stated it.

"I know that in that situation that you were confused. You cannot be confused now, Birkoff. I need your promise on that," Madeline issued out and Birkoff blinked his eyes. Madeline was never one that asked for promises or favors.

"Why is that so important, Madeline?" Birkoff questioned. He couldn't let his worries stay there. He had to question what he heard from Madeline. She was never a woman to allow someone to see something inside of her that she did not want anyone to see. This was an opening that Madeline had lead Birkoff to take.

"Nikita is not adjusting to this mission as I thought it would. Their opinion of who you are will come directly off of how Nikita appears," Madeline flatly stated.

"Sounds like you are more worried about Nikita," Birkoff dryly stated. Madeline leaned back in her chair and studied Birkoff. Neither one moved to even shift their weight during that time. Birkoff waited for Madeline's response. It would not be what Birkoff expected.

"I am worried about Nikita," Madeline admitted as she nodded her head. She watched the bottom lip tremble on Birkoff as he tried to hide his reaction. Madeline arched her head away from Birkoff, knowing that this was all too complicated to explain to Birkoff. Her plans went deeper than just getting Ryce Borjas. It went deeper than a year deep cover mission. Even Operations was not aware of the deep motivations behind her mission and plan.

"Birkoff... I will worry about Nikita... But what we have here is a need to discuss your behavior around Nikita and how you must make her feel comfortable," Madeline declared intensely that Birkoff instantly reacted by bobbing his head up and down.

"More will be taken from the way that Nikita acts around you, as your wife, than what you do, Birkoff. If she looks upset in any way or form for unknown reasons, this mission will die," Madeline vigorously explained to Birkoff. Madeline paused, knowing that Birkoff had a question on his mind, but did not have the strength to interrupt her.

"Why her? She is just the wife," Birkoff finally questioned as he stared at Madeline. It was question that Madeline was well prepared for.

"She is almost the best indicator of how one should feel around you. When you walk in that office, that very first day, you must take Nikita to show her around. You care for her deeply and Nikita cares for you deeply. From that moment, the attention will be with Nikita when you two are together," Madeline issued out in solid words in a solid speech. Birkoff nodded his head and he turned his head to the side.

"You are worried that you have destroyed that chance, right?" Madeline inquired as she cocked her head to the side. She felt the time tick away as Birkoff moved his hands up and down the arms of the chair. She was almost on the verge of a violent kick underneath the desk to get Birkoff's response.

"She is just so damaged when she isn't near Michael, Madeline. Everyone inside of Section One knows that and understands that. Why did you choice me? Michael can do the skills that are needed," Birkoff stated and Madeline sighed.

"You are a good man, Birkoff. This union isn't as impossible as you think it is. It makes perfect sense," Madeline brushed off, knowing that Birkoff was just beating around the bush. He was always a bit too predictable for Madeline's taste.

"I know that Michael is preparing Nikita for this mission, Birkoff. In public you and Nikita will be husband and wife, but inside that house, it is my hope that you two become good friends, if not best friends," Madeline said with a soft smile. It was met with Birkoff arching his eyebrow.

Those words were difficult for Birkoff to believe. Madeline never showed concern like this over any operative inside of Section One, not even Operations. She was the ultimate person to personify the statement the means are ruthless.

"I cannot explain or justify me motives, Birkoff. I am just warning you to make this work," Madeline stated as she abruptly stood up. It was clear that she was not going to give away anything more to Birkoff. He had his standing orders and knew that he could not fail.

Madeline watched as Birkoff walked out of the office and dropped her head. The rest of it was up to Michael. Madeline didn't have any sort of faith to fall back on, other than Michael always did what was right for Nikita. This time, Michael better not fail.

*

"We have to talk, Paul," Madeline stated as she walked into the lion's den. She stared at the leader as he dropped the cigar into the ashtray and smiled at Madeline as if she was a morsel for him to devour. It was a look that Madeline had become accustomed to seeing, but a look that she loathed.

"I always enjoy talking to you, Madeline. However, I think this is about Michael and Nikita," Paul stated, knowing that he wanted the answers that were in his mind and now.

"Of course," Madeline responded.

"You are concerned that Michael won't make progress?" Operations questioned as he stared out the window and down at the dim hallways of Section One. There was no response and he slowly turned his head towards Madeline to look at her.

"It's a good possibility that he just won't have the time to do what is needed. Nikita destroyed her body a lot in those two days," Madeline commented softly as she looked up at the leader's eyes. Both of them knew how important getting Ryce Borjas was, only Madeline knew to what extent he fit into her plans.

"And how far will he have to go with Nikita?" Operations questioned as he stared at Madeline. He did not like her echoing silence as she turned to look at the wall. It had been a simple day, but that day had broken down into the night, where urges were more than ready to take over the sane minds. All of the urges were based on time and knowing that a year was a long time to wait for this physical intimacy again.

The kisses were soft and lingered. Nothing was going to rush the moment and everything was going to be done to extend the moment. It was a battle to make this one night, an eternity to hold onto during the barren months that were ahead.

The hunger and passion surged in each body as they wrapped around each other, nothing between them but air, hair, and skin. Everything was on fire as they rubbed against each other, enjoying and lingering in the foreplay, almost climaxing before actually starting the final act.

"If given the proper time, I think that Michael can return Nikita ready for this mission," Madeline spoke. The words were faked and forced. There was nothing there to hide behind. Paul was staring at her intently and Madeline pretended to ignore his glare.

"Madeline, just how far is Michael going to have to go to bring Nikita back?" Operations questioned once again.

The silk sheet wrapped around Nikita's leg as she leaned back onto the soft cushion on the bed. Michael gently molded the pillow around her head, easing her down to not hurt her, but to give her more pleasure. Michael was a man that knew his woman. On this night, it was not about his needs and his desires. This was about what Nikita's heart and soul needed to even find a hope to live for during the next year. It was a big bill to fill, but Michael had to try.

Slowly, Michael pulled his fingers up to Nikita's lips. He was effectively lingering longer, drawing out the positive actions and reactions. It was an effort to do anything to distort the time and make all of this into a perfect memory between their two bodies. He knew how to please a woman. To love a woman was very different. It meant to take the time, to whisper the soft words into the ears, and to listen and feel the responses of the partner. Nikita's body jumped with his fingers lightly grazing her lips, and Michael knew to continue in this achingly slow pace, to worship her body like a religious temple.

Nikita gradually allowed Michael's fingers admittance to her mouth, to taste them and taunt them. Again, Michael dragged his motions out, drawing his moist fingers out of Nikita's mouth and down over her chin and neck.

Nikita groaned.

Michael's fingers rubbed at her neck as he bent and grazed his lips against Nikita's own. She was pliable and open to his leads, taking everything that he was willing to give to her at this moment. It was tempting to slide to what Michael wanted and needed, but that need to show Nikita what love was and how strong his love for her was, Michael controlled those urges and continued in his languid pace.

The arch of Nikita's hips and back did not surprise or shock Michael. He controlled her actions, placing a hand down on her surging hips, to guide her and slow her need. Nikita was never one that had been allowed to savor the good things, and now she needed to learn that lesson that Michael was so willing to teach her. His hand glided against her hip, pressing her lightly against the bed as his mouth continued to plunge into Nikita's mouth, tenderly finding every surface of her mouth and claiming it as his own.

In one dragged out move, Michael plummeted downward from her mouth, dragging his tongue down the skin that tasted like liquid gold. His hot and passionate kisses picked up in intensity as he found the spot in Nikita's neck that made her gasp and push against his guiding hand.

"I love you, Nikita," Michael whispered into her ear as he leaned up and kissed it. He felt Nikita's jaw open and close before slacking again. She was beyond words and only there for the moment. Michael nursed his way down the line of Nikita's neck, knowing that she was on the edge, before he even started to full out assault on her senses and body.

"Don't we have a saying around here Paul that we do whatever it takes?" Madeline questioned as she cocked her head to the side. She watched his eyes cool. Sometimes the cool nature of his eyes was more dangerous than the flaming anger. Madeline waited and shifted her weight.

"It counts on what that whatever means. Why do I have a feeling that I am not going to enjoy your response to this?" Operations questioned as he leaned closer to his second in command. Madeline merely nodded her head.