"I can't..." Nikita stated and Birkoff pressed his finger down and turned the screen on. Michael was trying to reach out to her. This meant that on some level, Michael understood the position that Nikita had been placed in. He was trying to reach out to her and comfort her. No one else in the world could comfort Nikita like Michael did. Birkoff didn't even come close.

Nikita? Nikita? I have been trying for days to get in touch with you. Nikita, please respond.

Nikita looked to Birkoff as he picked up the special pen and handed it to Nikita. She closed her eyes as her hand trembled. Michael's words looked like he had been worried.

"Been working on a hard profile..." Nikita wrote as the tears welded up in her eyes once more. She looked at the screen as the words disappeared, being sent to Michael.

Madeline told me that you passed her test. However, she changed operatives. I wanted you to know.

"Changed?" Nikita spoke out as she stared at the words. She looked to Birkoff. She felt relief, but then she also wanted to kill Madeline for the days of angst that filled her life. Nikita couldn't even sleep for the past days and now she changed it either way. Finally Nikita wrote that word on the pad as Birkoff slipped out of the room.

Yes. She has me on standby. The intel is still coming in. We might be bringing you back in.

Nikita had a thousand questions. She wanted to ask Michael all of them. Nikita turned as she noticed the salad in front of her, to thank Birkoff for the support. She saw the empty chair and then the empty room. Nikita smiled and nodded her head.

"Michael.. this isn't too bad... Birkoff is a great friend," Nikita wrote.

Good.

*

Michael's words had given Nikita hope during the weekend. It made Birkoff's weekend to see Nikita moving around and talking. Of course, Birkoff knew the reason why was because she now had a hope of going back to Section One, to see Michael, for however short it would be.

On Sunday, Birkoff and Nikita went grocery shopping. Between the two of them, they figured that eventually that someone had to really start cooking. They were the ideal models of a couple in love while shopping. The older people would tap the canes against their legs, telling the couple to go home, while other people were awed by the love between them.

And all told, they came home with more than cereal, soup, and frozen meals.

Yet, that hope that Nikita was feeding off of started to fade going into Monday. Michael hadn't been able to communicate and Nikita assumed that she was no longer needed. Birkoff entered the house that night and was promptly hit with a couch cushion.

"What did you do that for?" Birkoff demanded at Nikita. She simply looked at him and flaunted her body away from Birkoff. Birkoff bent down and picked up the cushion. Sadly, Birkoff dropped the cushion down on the couch and sat down. He wanted to sit down and cry at this point.

Birkoff knew that it was probably because he never lived with a woman. There were no other ways to explain what was going on. Birkoff stared off in the direction that Nikita had gone and pushed his hands through his hair. His mind was swirling as he stood up and moved after Nikita. In a way, Birkoff was glutting for punishment.

"Nikita?" Birkoff questioned as he moved towards the kitchen. He stood there as he saw Nikita, pushing her hands onto the counter with her head dropped down. "We have to discuss something about Friday, do you want to talk about it now, or later?"

"Friday? You are worried about Friday today?" Nikita questioned as she lifted her head and moved to the stove. She turned the burner on and watched as the flame flickered around the pan. She stared at the water, apparently waiting to watch it boil. It sure wasn't going to happen as Nikita stared at it.

"Yes. You will probably have to get a dress," Birkoff stated with a soft smile on his face. He knew how much Nikita usually enjoyed shopping. It was one of the benefits on this mission. Essentially, Section One didn't control the details of what they did. Most often, Section One didn't tell them when to get groceries and what for Nikita to wear.

"Birkoff, I don't really feel like shopping. Why do I need a dress?" Nikita questioned as she turned and stared at him. At first, Birkoff expected to see a tear ravaged face. That assumption was based only on how Nikita had been acting. It was a surprise when Nikita turned around and faced him. The only thing she looked like was that she was sad and hadn't been eating well.

"We have to attend some sort of awards banquet for the firm, Nikita," Birkoff announced and Nikita slightly nodded her head as she looked to the pot of water. Birkoff moved to the refrigerator and turned and looked at Nikita once more. He wasn't sure if he could handle another 11 months with this torture.

"Sorry Birkoff... I'll make sure to get a dress," Nikita finally snapped out of her thoughts. Birkoff nodded his head as Nikita turned around and saw his eyes. There was only one thing that Birkoff wanted to know and Nikita sighed.

"The truth, Nikita," Birkoff spoke as he touched her arms. Nikita looked at his hands and raised her head. She shrugged her shoulders and moved to the freezer to pull out the frozen vegetables.

"Nah, Birkoff. It isn't worth any value to let you worry about it for me. Let's just forget it," Nikita stated as she moved to the stove and threw in the frozen vegetables. Birkoff frowned; not liking Nikita's breaking of a promise so soon after it was made. He shoved his hands through his hair and moved out of the kitchen to let Nikita cook.

He didn't know that the only thing that Nikita was going to cook was the frozen vegetables.

~~

Michael moved through the hallways of Section One, looking at the operatives as he walked, identifying who was going out on this mission and who wasn't. It was a rather large operation for Section One and Michael turned the corner and walked towards Walter.

"Damn, Michael!" Walter jumped as he turned around to find Michael looming there. Since Nikita left, Michael was doing that more and more. "You are going to give this old man a heart attack!"

"The supplies that are needed..." Michael stated as he handed the disk over to Walter. Michael was acting like it was secret, but a list of supplies surely wasn't a secret. Walter placed it down on the desk and rubbed his aching hands together.

"What is it that got your mind all in shambles, Michael?" Walter questioned and Michael looked to Walter and blinked his gray eyes. Walter tilted his head to the side, sensing that Michael really had another purpose for walking here to give Walter the list of supplies.

"Nikita is on this mission... but Madeline hasn't pulled her out of position yet," Michael stated and Walter blinked his eyes. It was unusual, as this mission appeared to be extremely difficult and twisted.

"Hell, Michael... That isn't unusual. Do you think Madeline is going to bring Nikita back here for a couple extra days? What is that going to do to your attention?" Walter questioned as he leaned back on his heels. Sometimes, with matters of Nikita, Michael didn't see past what he wanted to see. Walter knew that this mission was important for them to pull Nikita now. It was also known that if Nikita came back while Michael was prepping this mission, that he would have his attention divided.

"You are right," Michael whispered and Walter slapped his hand on Michael's shoulder and grinned. "Of course I am. I am the old wise man around here!"

"I just have to be careful," Michael stated and Walter raised his eyebrows with those words. Michael looked behind him and then leaned in a bit more. "I still want to protect her."

"That doesn't surprise me, Michael. It's natural for you to be like this," Walter stated and Michael nodded his head curtly. Walter wasn't stating anything that should have bothered Michael, but the man seemed to be on a sharp edge right now. He was teetering and Walter did not have one concept of why.

"Can you just make sure when her supplies get packed that she has body armor and a good gun," Michael stated as he was about to leave. Walter grabbed Michael's arm and pulled the disk hastily through the scanner. Walter grumbled as he pulled it through the second time, as the first time didn't scan. Michael waited and then scrolled down the screen to Nikita's equipment and pointed to the missing items.

"No problem. I can do better than this crap too..." Walter whispered and Michael nodded his head.

Michael looked at Walter and shifted his weight. It appeared as if Michael was going to walk away, but something stopped him. Michael's heart pounded and ached as he turned and looked at Walter once more. There were so many questions that Michael had. He wanted to know if Walter knew of Birkoff's gift to Nikita. He wanted to know if Walter has been allowed to have contact with either of them.

"What's still on your mind? You should be worrying about this mission," Walter firmly stated, his voice gravelling and almost to the point of harsh. Michael leaned his head back and then looked at Walter once again.

"I get the sense that something more is going on," Michael stated and Walter shook his head. It was going to be a long year. The stress in Michael's eyes seemed to grow everyday. He didn't see how Michael was going to make it past this mission. All he wanted to do was to give Michael Nikita. It was the only thing that was going to make Michael feel better and to stop his worries.

"Michael... I'm not supposed to tell you this, but I am going to make this all easier on you," Walter started to explain as he moved his head backwards. Walter definitely did not want someone walking in while he was telling Michael this. Michael looked backwards and walked towards the direction that Walter was moving.

"I gave Birkoff a phone to use just in case... He opened it and it comes to me and me alone... Kind of like Nikita's gift," Walter stated and Michael swallowed and sighed. Walter knowing about the gift made it all so much easier.

"So if something was wrong with Nikita, he would call you?" Michael questioned and Walter nodded his head. That was exactly the point. Walter knew Nikita and understood the emotional being that she had the tendency to be. Birkoff was never one that was good with emotions. Walter had been pleasantly surprised that Birkoff hadn't called yet, but Walter was sure that the phone calls would start soon enough. Warring hormones were unlike anything that Birkoff had ever dealt with in his life.

"Would he know that something is wrong with Nikita?" Michael questioned as he stared at Walter. The tone put the old man back about four steps. Michael was always a realist, but this instinct of him of late had been down right cryptic. Walter tried to shake it off and form the words to tell Michael that everything was fine, but looking at Michael's eyes, Walter knew that he didn't matter how much he said, Michael was not going to believe it.

"You think something is wrong with sugar?" Walter questioned and Michael looked back over towards the hallway. He definitely did not want someone to overhear his words.

"I have always had a sense about her, Walter... This isn't something that I just started to feel," Michael tried to explain. He reached his hands out and pressed them against the wall. Walter wasn't buying Michael's words. He dropped his head and swallowed once more.

"I knew when she was about to kill herself... I have known when she was sick without seeing her, Walter. I don't think I am overreacting here," Michael stated and Walter blinked his eyes. He felt for Michael. The tests just kept on coming for Michael and then for Nikita. If Madeline or Operations weren't fooling around with the one, they were messing with the other. Most Section One operatives were lucky to get tested once in four or five years. For Michael and Nikita, it was like every single solitary thing that came up was truly a test.

"I think that it is just more because she is away. You have to relax or you aren't going to be able to protect Nikita during the entire year, because you are going to burn out," Walter stated and Michael nodded his head, but it was just for show. Michael didn't take a word of Walter's speech to heart. Michael had in his mind something set about Nikita and was going to hold onto that until he knew different.

"Hey... I'll be sure to tell you first if I hear anything..." Walter firmly stated as he clapped his hands on Michael's shoulders. Walter cringed when Michael pulled away silently and left with heavy footfalls. Walter leaned his head back and swallowed.

He didn't dare tell Michael that he had the same concerns.

~~

Nikita hung up the dress and sighed as she stepped back. It was so conservative that Nikita was unsure that it would work. She personally loved it, but had allowed Madeline to have such control over her dress for functions like these, that Nikita was not sure if it was proper attire for the function and then for her role. Nikita simply found where Linda got her dress and went to the same store. The fitting lady had a blast with Nikita, complimenting her figure and saying how she should have been a model. Nikita just nodded her head.

The bag was filled with the accessories that Nikita would need for the next night. Section One pockets were deep. Nikita could have thrown another five hundred dollars into the outfit and they would have never noticed. That wasn't Nikita's style, even though she was aware she could get away with it. The shoes were the most expensive accessory. If she towered over Birkoff now, he was going to be seeing a lot of her stomach tomorrow.

"Nikita? I smell pizza!" Birkoff called out as he slammed the door shut. Nikita smiled and turned around. Birkoff was an expert on junk food. Nikita was sure that Birkoff could even tell what kind of pizza she had selected.

"I didn't have the time for anything else... I bought my dress," Nikita stated and Birkoff stopped as he walked into her room. Last night, Nikita had told him no way was she buying a new dress. She was even sick last night. Birkoff had checked in on Nikita before he left for the office and was happy to find her asleep. She had been up almost all night.

"And shoes..." Birkoff said as he walked to the bed and pulled them up. He looked at the four-inch heel and then up to Nikita's face. He didn't say a word, but Birkoff got a picture that his neck was going to be sore from dancing with Nikita tomorrow.

Before Nikita could expose the dress, the phone rang. Both Birkoff and Nikita turned, but Nikita was the one that started to move towards the phone. It was uncommon for the phone to ring. In the three weeks they had been there, they had one phone call, a telemarketer. Birkoff called Madeline, but that was all.

"Hello?" Nikita questioned as she held the phone to her ear.

"Nikita, you are going on a mission," Madeline stated and Nikita's entire face lit up. Nikita carefully held back her shriek of happiness. How Nikita wanted to jump up and down and get in touch with Michael.

"I will leave right now... I should be back inside of Section late tonight.. early morning..." Nikita offered and she paused at it was too silent on Madeline's side.

"First, do you have anything planned for tomorrow?" Madeline questioned and Nikita looked to Birkoff and swallowed. Nikita sure hoped that the ball tomorrow was going to stop her from being on this mission.

"I have a ball to go to tomorrow night," Nikita stated tensely as Birkoff walked to the closet and pulled up the plastic from the dress. He whistled at the dress. Nikita was sure going to look pretty.

"Good... you'll be back for that... You will go to your panel... There should be a rendezvous point located on it. You will meet the team there and go on the mission there," Madeline stated and Nikita sat down on the bed. This was not what she wanted when Madeline said she had a mission.

"Don't I get a profile? And what about my equipment, Madeline?" Nikita questioned as she chucked her shoes off and they slammed into the wall.

"You should have appropriate black clothing... And you will be given a gun when you meet up with the team," Madeline issued out and Nikita fell back on the bed. Her hair spread across the bedspread and Nikita shook her head back and forth.

"This is improper, Madeline. I don't know what I am walking into!" Nikita tried to plead with Madeline. There were things that were terribly wrong with this mission, or at least the way that Nikita was being placed into it. The difficulties of a mission were complicated. There were thousands of details an operative would gather from reading the mission profile itself. It was an invaluable tool that Nikita was now neglected it's luxury.

"It's a simple in and out mission, Nikita. You have done a thousand of these missions," Madeline stated out in terse words. It was quite clear that Madeline just assumed that Nikita would just jump at the chance to complete the mission, anything to get out of the house.

"Yes, I have done thousands of them. But also, half of those went bad," Nikita hissed back as she sat up on the bed and thrust her hands violently through her hair. Nikita started to move, although she knew she was still talking to Madeline, she was going on this mission the way that Madeline stated forth.

"You will meet the team, do the mission, and go back to the house, Nikita," Madeline stated and Nikita stopped as she dropped her hands. Her hair that had been parted in the attempt of Nikita to angrily pull the tight French braid in feel down in one tangled heap.

"When am I supposed to sleep, Madeline?" Nikita questioned as she stared at the mirror. Birkoff looked at Nikita, hearing the conversation heat up. It was quite clear that Nikita was upset and Birkoff was the one that gathered up the panel to find the location that Nikita was meeting the team at.

"It's a meeting point about three hours from here," Birkoff commented and Nikita looked at him. This made her day crumble even more.

"So, if I am to understand you... I have been up since eight o'clock this morning... I am to drive three hours... do a mission... drive three hours back... and be ready for a ball tomorrow?" Nikita questioned and she heard the exaggerated sigh on Madeline's side. Madeline's nerves were being rubbed raw at this point. Nikita was always a difficult one to deal with, but more than likely Madeline was able to control Nikita's reactions. Rarely was Madeline this far off of reaction.

"You will wait about an hour for the vans... Once in the vans, it is another hour to two hours to the warehouse... You can either sleep there or study the mission profile. That will be up to you," Madeline stated and Nikita blinked her eyes. Nikita had a few choice words to call Madeline at this point, but before Nikita could say another word, Madeline hung the phone up.

"I can't believe that woman!" Nikita howled as she threw the phone across the room. Birkoff jumped back as Nikita tore off her shirt and stood there in her black sports bra. Birkoff found himself unable to move as Nikita started to tear through her clothes.

"I think your black clothes are upstairs... on the bottom of the closet of my room..." Birkoff stated as he looked at Nikita. She pulled a rubber band out and pulled her hair up, just to get it out of her face, not caring what it looked like.

"She wants me to do something that is inhuman! Does she think I am Wonder Woman or something along that lines!" Nikita continued to rant as she slammed her way up the stairs, wearing her bra and her jeans. Birkoff followed along, knowing that he was glutting for punishment.

"You didn't tell her that you were sick all night last night, Nikita..." Birkoff stated out as a possible way that Nikita could have gotten out of the mission. Nikita blinked her long eyelashes and then started to pull the box out of the clothes. Nikita showed no heed to who was watching her as she pulled her jeans off and pulled the mission pants on.

Birkoff noticed.

"Maybe I should get you something to eat," Birkoff tried to escape with. Nikita pulled a black shirt and stormed her way past Birkoff and down the stairs to retrieve her boots. Birkoff retreated to the kitchen to get the piece of pizza, as he had a sneaking suspicion that Nikita had skipped eating all day. She was the type that would avoid eating after being sick all night. It wasn't healthy and Birkoff knew that Nikita didn't know what healthy meant most of the time.

Nikita clicked her gun and shoved it into her pants before pulling the black leather jacket over her body, effectively hiding the gun from an untrained eye. She knew that she would be traveling normal roads and wouldn't be speeding. She would not be noticed for all she cared.

"Here is the pizza, Nikita," Birkoff offered as he handed the pizza to Nikita. Birkoff smiled broadly as Nikita took the napkin that the slice of pizza was sitting on. She moved down the stairs and finally turned to look at Birkoff.

"Enjoy!" Nikita hissed as she tossed the pizza back towards Birkoff. It smacked against his shirt and hung there as Nikita jogged her way to the car and hurried away. Birkoff pulled the pizza away from his shirt and stared after the car that was long gone.

Birkoff knew that something was wrong with Nikita. In a way, he was afraid that she was losing her sanity. But Birkoff didn't want to be the one to tell. Maybe it was just the family environment and he did not want to make an issue out of something like that. He knew his life was lacking a family as a child, as did Nikita. It made them into creatures that were hard to understand and to be around.

Birkoff sat down on the stairs and stared at the street, not caring about the spreading pizza sauce stain on his white shirt. He worried that Nikita's anger was going to get the best of her. She was a hell of an operative, but she always seemed to calm down before a mission. Nikita now had three hours by herself in a car before getting to the rendezvous point. It was only going to build.

For once, Birkoff was glad not to be in that van.

*

Every muscle hurt as Nikita stepped out of the van. She had no time to stretch as she darted into the bushes like the other operatives. She looked down the line of bushes, seeing operatives line up in similar positions. Nikita was about to clear her mind and focus on the mission when she caught an operative's eyes about one hundred feet away.

Michael.

They stood like that for several long moments, noticing each other and no one else. Madeline had hoped that they were far enough apart that they couldn't notice each other. It wouldn't have mattered. Nikita felt Michael during the entire trip. He was only a van behind her, thinking about her.

It was torture to look away. Neither one wanted the mission to start, as they weren't allowed to touch. Nikita nodded her head slightly and shifted the equipment on her body.

"Nikita, just take it easy. No heroics needed," Michael stated into her communications unit. The operatives around her didn't look at her and Nikita understood. The connection between Michael and Walter was strong enough to get her body armor and a great communications unit.

"Team Four to point A," Michael stated and Nikita started to move. She blinked her eyes as her long legs strode out into the open field. There were already operatives inside the building. She was effectively backup, and that was something that Nikita felt comfortable with.

For a while.

"Michael... something is wrong," Nikita stated as she stopped and looked to the roof. It was too silent and Nikita lurched. Her stomach was churning, and it was highly unusual. A calmness that Nikita had been able to maintain during missions had vanished as she stared at the roof.

"You had the same feeling... Nikita... go off to the right.. There is a door there that no one has entered..." Michael directed and Nikita immediately moved. There were various operatives shouting at her to stop, but Nikita did not matter. She could hear Michael's own panting as he moved out of his original position and moved probably to a position not far behind her.

Michael trusted Nikita, allowing her to go into that door. She opened it and killed the four men instantly. Nikita looked into the hallway and leaned against the wall as the bullets flew towards her.

"Michael... there is secret passages... They are hiding..." Nikita revealed as she turned and rattled off some shots of her own. Nikita looked at her issued rifle and knew that she did not have many shots left. She squatted and moaned with the racking pain in all of her muscles. Now she wished she had gotten more sleep.

Nikita pulled the gun out of the shot terrorist and fell to her stomach. Immediately she pelted the hallway with gunfire, freeing her an entrance.

By now, the other operatives, inside and outside the building were getting the new intel from Birkoff. It was late for some operatives as Nikita moved in the tight hallways. Nikita looked around and swallowed.

"Michael... Do you have a blue pipe over head of you?" Nikita questioned as she moved. She reached her gloved hand up and pulled back as she felt the scorching heat from it. Nikita stopped as she heard something behind her.

"Yes... Birkoff... what is in this pipe?" Michael questioned as he continued to move. He had entered in another door about five hundred feet away from the door that Nikita had entered. It was a maze inside the building. He was trying to work his way to Nikita, as it was for the best that they moved together. Michael worried about her and he did not want to lose her in this trap of a building.

"It's flammable... that's all that matters," Nikita stated as she turned the corner and stopped. She heard the pounding feet, trying to run to catch up to her. In one move, Nikita jumped back out into the hallway and killed the man who was running down the hallway.

"Michael... they are doubling back.. We need to get out of here and blow this place to shreds..." Nikita stated as she reached up to the pipe and pulled out the explosive. It was another treat from Walter that she had not forgotten about.

"Nikita? Is that you?" Davenport's voice floated out, although it was quite muffled with his jaw still wired shut. Nikita moved down the hallway and swallowed. She had spent the entire trip in the van, sharing a van with Davenport. The tension had been thick, but now, Nikita knew that something was wrong. Davenport wasn't a man that called out for help, especially to her.

Nikita looked to the stairs that she was standing on and saw Davenport pinned by three men. Nikita hesitated for only one second. She knew that more than likely Michael was not far behind her, that he had heard Davenport just like she had.

The stairwell was small. Nikita placed her gun on the two running rails and jumped up. She allowed nature take the course as it curled her body down the stairwell and hurdling fully at the men that had Davenport pinned.

Nikita's legs hit first, getting two of the men, leaving Davenport with the one. The men had actually laughed when they stood up and saw Nikita. It infuriated her.

"Nikita?" Michael called out as he turned the corner and expected to see Nikita. That was where she was a second ago, or was she? Michael looked up at the blue pipe and noticed her explosive device there.

"Abort the mission... clear the warehouse..." Michael issued the orders as he smacked his larger explosive device next to Nikita's. He looked down the hallway, looking at the strewed about bodies, noticing that every single one was not a Section One operatives.

He wanted to know where Nikita was.

Nikita found the first man that ran towards her to be all show and nothing else. Nikita stepped to the side, slipped her hands around his neck and twisted. It was all over before Davenport had even moved to take care of the man who know had no one to hold his arms.

The next man slowly moved to Nikita as she stared at him. Nikita blinked her eyes, as she suddenly felt so weak. She cursed herself for throwing that pizza back at Birkoff and then not getting enough sleep. Her legs felt like rubber, but she did not allow the man to see that. Nikita moved around and jumped up onto a barrel.

That was when Davenport threw the man over the railing.

The darkness in Nikita's vision was not from the dark warehouse. She was just losing her vision and her balance. However, the man's gun was pointing towards her and she had to react. In one move, not graceful at all, Nikita jumped kicked up from the barrel. It was a move that she had practiced for years, and although she slammed the gun away, she found she had no control of her body. It flailed in the air as Davenport delivered a crushing blow to the man's nose, shoving a shard of bone into his brain and instantly killing him.

Then there was a crunch and Davenport cringed.

"Oh hell!" Davenport hissed as he looked down at saw that the path for Nikita's fall had not been clear. She was awake, only to be in a ton of pain. Her right knee had smashed into a can when she landed.

Those words were so clear to Michael. He needed no other words to know where Nikita was. He moved quickly as he moved against the flow of operatives. Michael looked down to find Davenport, supporting Nikita's knee.

"Get her out of here... We are on a countdown!" Michael issued out. Davenport nodded his head and picked up Nikita. A countdown meant that there was no time for comfort and there was no time for lessening the injury. It meant pick up Nikita and run.

And that was what Davenport did.

~~

Nikita leaned her head down, supporting it with her hands. She was sure that Davenport didn't know what happened. The self-brutality that she was putting herself through in that van for the moments, waiting for the building to explode, was the worse that Nikita had ever done to herself. All the words she normally reserved for Madeline, Nikita spewed silently at herself.

She was never a dumb woman, but now, Nikita knew what she had done was stupid, at least in her book.

The van was stuffed. The operatives had all been scattered about, almost no one returning to the van that had brought them. There was nowhere for Nikita to place her injured knee. The operative next to her kept shifting around, knocking his knee against hers.

"We don't have much here.. but I got some crushed Motrin you can have," Davenport offered as he stood and moved towards Nikita. He was grateful now that Nikita was talented. There was only one person inside of Section One who would have been as creative on getting down to him, and that was Nikita's trainer, who was absent from the van.

"No thank you," Nikita politely stated as she grunted once more in pain. If she had the strength, she would have choked the operative next to her. All of her strength was used on trying to control the pain, trying not thinking about how much it did hurt.

"How is your jaw? I was so sorry that that happened," Nikita questioned as she looked up at Davenport. He opened his eyes wide and laughed through the wired jaw.

"How can I be mad at you for this? You just saved my life," Davenport stated and Nikita forced out a smile as once again, Nikita felt the exploding pain. This time, Davenport caught what was causing the terrible grimace on Nikita's face. Nikita tightened her grip around her forehead as Davenport carefully stepped around Nikita's legs and grabbed the operative.

"Do you want to live, boy?" Davenport hissed. Nikita lifted her head to protest, but Davenport only stared at Nikita. Here was a man that up to about ten minutes ago was upset for Nikita's manhandling him during sparring, acting like he was her best friend. Of course Nikita saved his life, but Nikita never expected him to do this.

"What did I do?" The operative trembled out and Davenport lifted him up in the air, avoiding Nikita's knee and moved to the door.

"You are going to find another van," Davenport hissed as he opened the door and almost threw the operative right into Michael's looming body. He carried a cooler and Davenport held back his anger. He waited for Michael to step to the side before throwing the scum out.

"How many are in this van?" Michael questioned from the doorway. Davenport's eyes opened. He just got rid of one scum, but if Michael handed him the medical supplies and left, Davenport would chase after Michael and pull him into the van himself. Nikita was in some serious pain, although she was desperately trying to hide it.

"Four, plus Nikita and me," Davenport responded with overwrought words. He lifted his head as Michael turned his head away.

"They can all move to the van two down... Immediately," Michael stated and Davenport nodded his head. The operatives heard Michael's order and moved smoothly out of the van. Michael watched as they exited and then stepped into the van.

"This isn't the way I wanted to see you again," Michael whispered as he moved towards Nikita. Davenport closed the door and nervously shifted his weight from side to side before sitting down. It was quite clear that Michael was affected by Nikita's injury.

"She wouldn't take anything for the pain," Davenport stated to Michael in a gruff tone. Nikita turned her head and swallowed, trying to force out a smile, that neither man bought.

"I have to go right back, Michael. I can't drive with medication," Nikita stated and Michael narrowed his eyes as he stared at Nikita. Slowly Michael placed the cooler down as he bent down on his knees. The van lurched as it started to make the move back to Section One.

"We will talk about that later... I think you should take something for the pain," Michael stated as he looked up at Nikita with his eyes. Nikita looked into the shining green. It was tempting, but Nikita's mind was going a hundred miles an hour. There was so much that she had to do yet when she got back to Birkoff and the other mission. And her stomach had been so sour of late, Nikita was sure that she wouldn't be able to keep the medicine down.

"No, Michael," Nikita stated. She leaned her head back as she heard Davenport grunt. Both of them threw him a glare as he threw his hands up in the air. He leaned back and pulled his black cap off of his head and over his face.

"You won't be going anywhere if this is broke Nikita," Michael said as he started to unzip the length of the mission pants, inching the way up to the mid thigh before brushing the pants away to see the knee.

It was swollen. Badly. The discoloring had already started. Michael tried to focus on the good things. There was no blood and there appeared to be no bones breaking through the skin. Michael carefully moved the knee a bit. He looked up and saw the carefully controlled emotions on Nikita's face.

"It's ok to cry, Nikita. This is all going to hurt," Michael stated as he dipped his hands into the ice cubes, just to chill his hands. It would make assessing Nikita's knee all the easier. He ran his fingers down the swollen areas and braced the underneath.

Her knee bent and unbent. It wasn't easy, the swelling was immense, but Michael was relieved. A knee was a bad place to get hurt, but he was sure that this wasn't a multiple fracture. Michael pulled the ace bandage out and started to wrap it around her knee.

That was when the tears began to fall. Michael reached up and wiped them away from Nikita's eyes. He continued to wrap and Nikita's tears continued to fall. All Michael could do was hurry and finish what needed to be wrapped, place the knee up on the bench, elevate it and wait to get back to Section One.

"I should have known..." Nikita whispered out, as her tears didn't stop. They were her first words, which weren't about taking medicine or going back to the mission as Mrs. Hayes. Davenport shifted his head to open one eye to the scene of Michael still on his knees, wiping each tear away as they fell.

"Sit here," Davenport growled as he stood up and moved to the other side of the van. There were some things that Davenport couldn't put up with. A crying Nikita was one of those things. She seemed so helpless right now. Sometimes it was a downfall of a woman, but Davenport respected Nikita. He would never tell Nikita that, but he did. Nikita needing Michael was not something that Davenport saw as a weakness. Michael was Nikita's way of coping with life and visa versa. It was simple and clean. Davenport liked things like that.

"When was the last time that you slept, Nikita?" Michael questioned as he settled on the cushion next to Nikita and cupped her head in his lap. Nikita rolled her head away from his eyes, trying to avoid them, but Michael knew.

"Nikita... the profiles that Madeline are sending you aren't worth you losing sleep over... When was the last time you ate?" Michael questioned as he stroked her face. Nikita gasped and turned her head towards Michael's stomach. The van hit a series of bumps and Nikita groaned.

"It was all my fault that I got hurt..." Nikita stated and Michael opened his mouth. This was totally unexpected. There were times where operatives just got hurt. It was probably the second lesson that Michael taught Nikita. He leaned down and cupped her face in his hands.

"You won the fight... You just didn't see the can," Michael stated and Nikita closed her eyes. Michael didn't want to hear the truth. She didn't know what it all happened to her. She never understood what was happening any longer. Nikita decided in that moment to speak no longer of why she fell and why she didn't notice the can. She would not mention how her vision was blurring at that moment and how weak her legs felt.

For most of the trip back to Section One, Michael tended to Nikita's knee and keeping ice on the swelling. He held her in his arms and just felt complete holding her. However, Michael would often look down to her sleeping face and just know that something else was wrong, that there was something bothering her or disturbing her to the point that Nikita couldn't describe it with words.

Nikita woke briefly as they drove past the spot that they had picked her up. There was no protest as the van continued on. She slowly turned her head back to Michael and moaned lightly. The pain was intense and Nikita struggled to hold on.

~~

"You are going back," Madeline announced as Michael helped Nikita out of the van. Nikita's arm was holding tightly around Michael's neck. She found the pain shooting down and up her leg when she even placed her toe on the ground.

"I can't walk, Madeline!" Nikita argued as she looked at Madeline. Nikita was only three steps away from the van, but Madeline didn't care. Madeline was telling her to go back.

"You have to go to the ball, Nikita," Madeline announced and Nikita blinked her eyes. Madeline stepped forward and pulled Michael's arm and supportive body away from Nikita.

Nikita did not fall. She steadied her body as the tears rolled out of her eyes.

"This is extreme, Madeline. She needs to be checked over," Michael stated and Madeline shook her head back and forth. She looked at Nikita and lightly nudged Nikita's shoulders. She knew that Nikita would step back and gain her balance. It was a trained instinct to never lose your standing position over a little bit of pain.

"You are going back right now," Madeline said as she reached and turned Nikita's shoulder and pointed her towards the van. Nikita stopped and looked over her shoulder. Nikita couldn't even take the extra steps to turn around and face Madeline.

"I can't possibly drive with this leg, Madeline!" Nikita stated and Madeline narrowed her eyes.

"I think I can always find room in abeyance for you... Or do we have to torture you some to get you to comply?" Madeline questioned and Michael and Nikita both stared at Madeline in horror. Davenport heard the word abeyance and popped his head out of the van to find Nikita stared at Madeline with a wide-open mouth.

"I am going to kill myself because I have to drive a car with a knee that feels like someone shoved a basketball into it!" Nikita shouted as she balled her hands up into fists. She slammed them forward, one connected with Davenport's chest and the other the van.

"Stop being melodramatic, Nikita. You need to be by Birkoff's side tonight!" Madeline announced and turned away. Nikita looked at Michael and broke down into tears. Michael moved forward and swallowed.

"Davenport.. please go with her.... I want you to follow her in the van to the house... Stop her if her driving is bad..." Michael stated and Davenport nodded his head.

He owed Nikita.

*

Birkoff would have never noticed that Nikita was home from just looking at the front of the house. His anger was getting the best of him, although he knew that Nikita had been out on a mission. However, Birkoff got stuck at the ball all night by himself. There was no Nikita to bail him out when he was getting uncomfortable and no Nikita to rescue him when three ladies decided they wanted a piece of him.

The only sign that Nikita was home was her car was parked in the driveway. It didn't ease Birkoff's worries and they didn't stop his anger. He believed that the least that Nikita could have done was call him and tell him that she was fine. Instead, he spent the entire evening wondering what had happened to her.

But Birkoff had been through so much in the past several days that he didn't care to hear Nikita's excuses any longer. The conversation that had about truth was all nice and sweet, but it didn't exist. Nikita trampled over those words more often than a hundred member marching band.

"Nikita?" Birkoff hissed out as he slammed the door shut. He shook his coat off of his body, wondering why they would make a formal ball on the hottest place on earth. Birkoff pulled at the stick clothing and tossed it to the ground.

First thought wasn't that something bad had happened. The first thought was that Nikita might actually be sleeping. Birkoff grounded his teeth together as he walked towards Nikita's room. He pulled at the suspenders that felt like it was created ditches into his arms. The pain was great until he snapped them off really quick.

"Nikita?" Birkoff called out again, but this time, not nearly as loud. It would be a blessing if Nikita were actually asleep. Birkoff even started to feel guilty about his thoughts and feelings towards her. He was in awe that she was able to run during a mission without having food the day before and being sick all the night before. The old tendencies of Birkoff's came back, worrying.

He turned the corner and saw the only light on in Nikita's room was the computer. Birkoff pushed the door open and jumped as Nikita's head picked up from the surface of the desk. She looked at Birkoff as he flipped the light on.

"You look awful," Birkoff stated as he looked at Nikita. Her entire face looked like it was bruised, but Birkoff didn't know what happened. Nikita looked and Birkoff and swallowed. She could barely hold herself together when all she had to do was focus on the blurry words on the screen. Nikita didn't want to lose her composure now. She did not want Birkoff worrying about her.

"So you can understand why I didn't come to the ball?" Nikita questioned with a small smile on her face. It was a poor attempt at getting Birkoff from worrying more. It was far from working. He inched closer and noticed that the stool that had been at the end of the bed had disappeared.

"What happened?" Birkoff questioned as he looked at Nikita. She gasped as the pain surged once again. Nikita never had problems controlling pain, not like this. But now, it was beyond her. The knee seemed to be growing and growing. She had to take the wrap off that Michael had placed, as her knee swelled even more and her foot started to turn blue from the wrap being so tight.

"I got hurt..." Nikita groused as she looked down to her raised leg. Birkoff moved closer and his mouth started to open as he saw the lump on the stool. He touched Nikita's shoulders and she jumped. "Madeline said I had to get back for the ball, Birkoff... I drove but I barely made it to the room... I hope you don't tell Madeline that I never showed up."

"You are worried about that now?" Birkoff questioned incredulously. He could not believe that Madeline had sent Nikita away from Section One with her knee like that. Nikita slowly nodded her head up and down and Birkoff shook his head back and forth.

"You need to see someone, Nikita. That looks awful," Birkoff stated and he was stunned with the way Nikita grabbed his hands and pulled him down towards him. his eyes blinked rapidly as Nikita continued to pull on his arms. "NIKITA!"

"I don't want to do anything. I just want to get to bed... I will be fine," Nikita said with strong words. Her eyes were flaring with her passion for no help, but the pain was taking over her eyes. Birkoff pulled his hands violently away from Nikita, but then stroked Nikita's hair as she slid back in the chair and groaned in pain.

"No, Nikita... Our identities are strong enough. We have medical cards and no one will know. You need that looked at. Have you had anything for pain yet?" Birkoff questioned in rapid words. Nikita continued to shake her head, although she was gasping in pain.

"I don't need anything, Birkoff. It actually looks worse than it feels," Nikita issued out as her throat twitched. It was blatant lie and Birkoff was not snowed by the lie.

"Nikita... it looks like a basketball... Something is wrong. You need to have it looked at," Birkoff continued to state. He was not going to give into Nikita's pleads on this. He was never a man who knew the medical things and the first aid, but he realized when things looked bad. This was definitely bad.

"Madeline let me drive home, Birkoff. I'm fine," Nikita issued out, but her words broke. Nikita leaned forward and wiped the tears from her face. Birkoff knew when not to push an issue and now was one of those times. Madeline must have done something and he was sure that he would find out, just not now. The immediate worry was getting Nikita the medical attention that Section One obviously neglected to give her.

"Stop lying Nikita! I know you are hurting! I want to help," Birkoff stated and Nikita looked up with tears in her eyes. Birkoff knew that Michael had to have been helping her. He could see the additional pain in Nikita's eyes for what Section One put her through. He had to wonder how dangerous it was for Nikita to drive back to the house. He had to wonder how many times Nikita thought she was going to crash. The pain had to be immense and growing. The swelling didn't seem like it was going to stop.

"No doctors... No hospital," Nikita declared and Birkoff gasped. He didn't have much of an idea of how to help Nikita without those two things. He had no way of moving to the wall and summing medical. Things were getting complicated.

Birkoff even had forgotten about all the other worries he had until he walked into the house.

"Let me call Linda... She was an EMT. Maybe she can at least wrap it up right," Birkoff offered and Nikita leaned her head back, allowing the tears to flow down her neck. Finally Nikita nodded her head up and down, relenting and giving Birkoff the chance to call Linda.

~~

It took exactly eight minutes for Linda to make it over. She walked up to the door and was shocked that Birkoff popped the door open and flapped his hand at Linda. This was a behavior that Linda never believed would happen. The Seymour Hayes that Linda knew was usually calm and cool. Her heart raced as she moved after Birkoff.

"I told him not to overreact," Nikita stated as Linda walked into the room that she believed to be a guest room. Nikita looked at her as Linda immediately bent down to her own knees. It was imperative that she pulled Nikita away from the desk and revealed the knee.

"Seymour... I need a lot of ice," Linda commented without touching the surface of the swelling. It was so clear that Nikita had done so much damage to the knee. "What did you do?"

"I fell down on a paint can I brought home... I just lost my balance..." Nikita stated and Linda nodded her head. Nikita's explanation made perfect sense with what Linda saw. She wiped Nikita's hair back and stroked her face lightly.

"Let's get you something for the pain... And lets call an ambulance," Linda tried with a smooth voice. She saw the distress in Nikita's eyes, but didn't understand why Seymour had not called yet. It was difficult to look at Nikita and allow her to sit there and demand that she didn't go to the hospital.

"No... to both!" Nikita exclaimed as she pushed her hands to the chair to shift. That movement alone, although not moving the knee wracked pain and down Nikita's body. She swallowed as her stomach started to churn. Nikita rationalized it off as her inability or time to eat something.

Before Linda could try to protest Nikita's decision, Birkoff entered with the ice. Linda dipped her hands into the ice much like Michael and then touched the tender knee. The pain had multiplied, or at least, Nikita couldn't stand the pain as she had before. She groaned as she arched her back. The tears seeped out of her eyes and down her cheeks.

'I can't tell if there is bone damage, Nikita... Your kneecap is in place... But you need this x-rayed," Linda tried to inform Nikita. Linda was shocked as Nikita flung her head from side to side.

"I don't like hospitals... you know... when you have had a bad experience... you avoid them," Nikita stated as she shifted in the seat and tried to look away from Linda. Linda sat back on her heels and looked over at Birkoff.

"Can you talk some sense into her?" Linda questioned and Nikita reached out and grabbed Linda.

"Don't talk to him like he controls me! I have say about my life! No one controls me!" Nikita yelled out as the tears raged out of her eyes. Birkoff stepped closer to Nikita, shielding her reaction from Linda. He rocked back and forth as Nikita allowed the tears to pour, knowing that so much more was happening.

"I think there is more going on... Why did you fall down the stairs, Nikita?" Linda questioned, prying for the information. It was quite clear that Nikita just didn't look good. It didn't take a doctor or an EMT to realize that. She looked pale and thin.

"I lost my footing," Nikita moaned into Birkoff's stomach. He lifted his head as he looked at Linda. Birkoff closed his eyes as he wished that Linda could just wave a wand and make it all better. Deep down, Birkoff knew that Linda couldn't do anything much.

"I think it might be more... I think it is important that we get you into the emergency room and get you checked out..." Linda tried in a patient voice. When it came down to it, they couldn't force Nikita to seek the treatment, although Seymour was deeply worried about Nikita. His grip did not relent from holding his wife. It was a strong testament of his love for his wife.

"Can you just wrap it?" Nikita questioned with a whisper of a voice. She sounded so desperate to just get the knee wrapped that Linda nodded her head, giving away to Nikita's wishes and wants.

"Seymour... why don't you show me where your ace bandages are... And maybe you can get some water and food for Nikita..." Linda stated as she stood up from the floor, leaving Nikita's immediately glare. Birkoff disengaged his body from Nikita and patted her head lightly.

"I'll be right back..." Birkoff stated and Nikita looked to the bed and sighed.

"I'll just get in bed... I think I need some rest," Nikita offered and Birkoff nodded is head up and down. It sounded good, since Nikita was being so stubborn. He looked over his shoulder as he left, only to find Linda pulling on his arm.

"I can't say that it looks good. Has she been sick?" Linda questioned and Birkoff shrugged his shoulders. He rubbed his hands together as he directed Linda towards the kitchen. He looked around and swallowed.

"She gets a bit emotional when she is stressed," Birkoff tried to offer as an explanation. Linda raised her eyebrow as she shook her head back and forth. That was one lie she wasn't going to believe.

"I don't care what happened up to this point... That knee needs to be checked. If it swells too much, it can cut off the circulation to her foot. This is very serious, Seymour," Linda stated in a strong voice that reminded Birkoff of Madeline's voice. Now he was in a hard position. He wanted to respect Nikita's decisions, not only because she was Nikita, but also because Madeline had turned her away. Madeline would have kept Nikita if it were serious enough. But Linda had a good argument. The swelling wasn't stopping.

"I'll go try again... There is a box of stuff there... We didn't unpack it yet," Birkoff motioned to the large box that had the black letters on it reading 'First Aid'. Linda nodded her head.

Nikita leaned her head up, trying to find some sense of balance. It was difficult enough for Nikita to push her body to a real sitting position; she didn't know how she was going to get to the bed. Nikita found it difficult that she had found the strength to walk to the house and into the room, but no longer had the ability to move the three steps to the bed.

Nikita though, fought to get her body standing up. She looked around and felt the hazy black filling her space. Nikita closed her eyes, hoping to fight it off with simple will power. The pain was swelling and throbbing, hitting her head full blast. Nikita never had a leg injury do this to her. She didn't think that it would take over her entire body, but it had.

Nikita was falling down onto the bed as Birkoff turned the corner. He screamed and dashed towards Nikita side, not allowing her body to fall down to the floor. Linda was no far behind him and helped to ease Nikita on the bed.

"She fainted from pain... Call 9-1-1!" Linda ordered.

Birkoff did exactly that.

*

Nikita fought against that blackness. She didn't know where it had come from. It was difficult and a heavy blackness to fight against. The pain was continuing to hamper her movements.

"Nikita... just breath slowly..." Linda directed as she held Nikita's head lightly against the bed. The worst thing Nikita could do at this moment was to jerk herself awake without regard to her knee. Nikita blinked her eyes and rolled her head to the side. Linda smiled as Seymour paced in the guest room and living room. He was a nervous wreck.

"Ok.. open your eyes slowly..." Linda guided Nikita as she opened her eyes once more. The blue eyes were confused as she focused on Linda.

"How long was I?" Nikita questioned and Linda smiled. Nikita hadn't been too far-gone. She realized what happened to her body and was relieved that the exact details weren't going to have to be analyzed. It was tremendously clear that Nikita was still going to fight the decision to move her to the hospital.

"Only a few minutes... We called for an ambulance... You passed out from the pain," Linda spoke, clearly showing Nikita the facts of the situation. For a few seconds Linda prepared herself to hear the rants and raves of Nikita. Instead, Nikita turned her head to the side, dejected and crying.

"Nikita.. it is going to be ok. This is for the best," Birkoff spoke as he moved towards her. He saw the dire distress on Nikita's eyes. She was blinking them rapidly. Birkoff did not want to even speculate about what Nikita's thoughts focused on.

"I don't want to go, Seymour," Nikita pleaded with a soft voice. It was what she wanted, but it was also an expression of knowing that right now, the decision had been taken out of her hands.

"Don't worry... I know the guys who are working tonight... You'll probably laugh the entire way!" Linda commented as she picked up on Nikita's worry. It was quite clear from Nikita's words that she was scared to go. Birkoff stroked Nikita's forehead and realized that something more was going to have to be done to make all of this stick. He would have to contact Section One later and tell them the change in the stories, but he had no choice right now.

"It isn't the same hospital as your mother, darling... It's a different hospital, different doctors, and a different town..." Birkoff explained as he looked down into Nikita's eyes. For a few seconds Birkoff was concerned that Nikita would not pick up with his words. She closed her eyes and rolled her head closer to him.

"Don't let them give me anything... not like mama..." Nikita whispered out so that Birkoff and Linda could hear her words. Linda looked at Birkoff and swallowed. Now the pain and desperation on Nikita's voice about going to the hospital made so much more sense. It did not make it right, but it made sense. Before it appeared as if Nikita was just being pig headed and stubborn.

"I won't..." Birkoff whispered out as he kissed the top of Nikita's head. He wished he knew the real reason why Nikita was being so stubborn. He wanted to know why she was willing to risk everything in order to just feel the pain. It wasn't a question for now as he saw the flashing lights outside in the darkness.

"Hello?" a deep male voice called out as he pushed the door open. Birkoff had left it open when he went to Nikita's room to comfort her as she woke up from the haze of the pain. Linda nodded her head to the side and rolled her head around.

"Big Ax and McNeil! Come in here and meet my friend Nikita," Linda said with a cheerful voice. Nikita jumped as she saw the men, carrying all these supplies and dressed in uniforms. She tried to move, but Linda kept a careful hand on her body.

"Well... it looks like your knee swallowed a basketball!" the man named McNeil stated as he walked to the end of the bed that had Nikita's knee.

"She passed out from the pain for about two minutes... She is clear and coherent now... And she is a bit afraid of hospitals and doctors," Linda filled in the men that she had worked with before her new job. The man that Linda called Big Ax wrote that all down and leaned over Nikita.

"So what happened?" Big Ax questioned and Nikita closed her eyes and turned her head away from him. She looked to Birkoff before opening her eyes.

"I feel down the stairs... landed my knee on a paint can," Nikita informed them, but never looking at them.

"Sounds like the paint can won!" McNeil joked as he pulled out several pillows and fluffed them. Birkoff watched with a careful eye.

"I've been trying to tell her that, but she is also a bit stubborn," Linda stated. Nikita narrowed her eyes. She knew that Linda was giving them a code for something. Her words had to speak to them like her eyes spoke to Michael. It didn't have to be said directly, but it was known.

"Ok, Nikita... I know that you are in a lot of pain... We can give you something to make this a really easy transport," Big Ax offered as he dropped his back to the floor. Nikita violently shook her head from side to side, now struggling to sit up, until pain shot up her leg and caused her to scream, although she tried to contain the noise.

"That was a pin touching your leg... What did it feel like? A hand?" McNeil pointed out, hoping that the beautiful, but yet distressed woman would just allow them to do their job and make her trip very easy on all.

"Yes... but I don't want anything for the pain!" Nikita shouted and both Big Ax and McNeil turned away at Nikita's voice. They both looked to Seymour and shook their head. It was clear that he was the worried husband.

"Ok.. Nothing for the pain..." McNeil mumbled as he positioned the pillows and moved quickly to pick Nikita's knee up and over the pillows. He looked around and was shocked, as Nikita did not scream. He rolled his eyes as he looked over at Linda.

"Yeah... but I am concerned with other things... You look dehydrated.. You need liquids. Let us establish an IV and let it do all the work," Big Ax stated and Nikita shook her head back and forth. Linda touched Nikita's head, but now Nikita's eyes narrowed and darkened.

"I know what can be put in an IV bag. I am not stupid and I don't want you to snow me in without me knowing!" Nikita exclaimed and Big Ax whistled as he stood up.

"Oh, now this is going to be a great trip to the hospital... I guess I won't be hearing any cheerful songs," Big Ax stated and Nikita stared at him, focusing her anger and pain at him.

"They may call you Big Ax but I think you are a small fellow!" Nikita spat out and Linda clapped her hand over her mouth as she started to laugh. Big Ax looked down at Nikita and then smiled.

"I like a woman with a sense of humor.. Just for that... I'll take you in without the drugs," Big Ax stated with a wink. Nikita nodded her head, but continued to look at him seriously. Birkoff watched as McNeil tied the pillow around Nikita's knee and then leaned back. Nikita's anger had taken control, allowing the attention to go away from the pain.

Linda followed Big Ax out of the room to get the stretcher. She looked back towards the house as Big Ax threw the chart down on the bench.

"Hell... what is she? A robot?" Big Ax growled and Linda shrugged her shoulders. Nikita had issues, that were sure, but she wasn't going to discuss them. Linda was sure that Seymour had difficulty enough dealing with them.

"She may be odd now... but she is a sweet woman..." Linda stated and Big Ax smiled and slapped Linda's arm.

"And without the tear soaked face... She has a nice rack and is a nice looker," Big Ax joked as he pulled the stretcher out. Linda rolled her eyes.

"Now what would your wife say if she heard that?" Linda questioned and Big Ax smiled and started to move the stretcher with Linda's help.

~~

Nikita was wheeled quickly around the emergency room. Ice was packed around her knee and she was immediately sent off to x-ray. During that entire time, everyone offered the pain medication that Nikita turned down. In her mind, she had to get out of this hospital, back to the house to sleep for a few hours and back to the profiles that were sitting there, waiting to be done. She had no time to be hurt.

Madeline made that clear.

Linda and Birkoff had followed Nikita down to the waiting room for her x-rays. Both were silent, as was Nikita. It was clear that Birkoff was anxious and pacing back and forth until Nikita grabbed his arm.

"Seymour... everything is fine... I think you are overreacting," Nikita stated as she stroked her fingers over the top of his hands. Birkoff looked at Nikita and bent down.

"I'm going to call Walter," Birkoff stated with a whisper so Linda didn't hear him and Nikita shrugged her shoulders. She sure didn't feel that it was necessary, but if it was going to make Birkoff feel better, then he should do it. Nikita surely hope it wasn't all about her.

"Nikita Hayes?" the male technician called out, even though she was the only one in the hospital clothing in the room. Nikita rolled her eyes as the man as he moved towards the bed. He winced as he looked at the knee and looked to the orders. If the x-rays were clear, she was going right next-door for an MRI, to see about ligament damage. The technician believed that to be a no brainer.

"Ok... I'm just going to swing you into a room... Take a few pictures..." The man stated as he started to move the bed. Nikita leaned her head back, dejected and sad. She looked at Birkoff as she was rolled away.

Nikita moaned and groaned as the technician moved her off of the stretcher, where Nikita had found some comfort to the hard table surface of the x-ray machine. Nikita never remembered being in one of these. She looked around as the man walked back with the chart and smiled at Nikita.

"Well... other than the knee... is everything ok?" He questioned and Nikita narrowed her eyes at the man. She didn't understand how all the medical personnel had a personality. It almost was starting to annoy Nikita.

"Yes," Nikita stated and the man nodded his head and looked around. He immediately got the feeling that he wasn't going to willingly get any information from this woman.

"Ok... I have a few standard questions I have to ask," the man stated and he waited for Nikita to nod her head. When Nikita just stared at him and licked his lips and smiled. "First one, is there any chance that you may be pregnant?"

Nikita stared at him as her head started to swirl. Pregnant? Nikita thought back in her head and her heart jumped as she swallowed harshly. It was something that never entered her mind and now Nikita was ripped into pieces hearing that word.

"Ma'am?" The man questioned as he stared at Nikita. He glanced at the chart and saw that they said that she had passed out from the pain before. He moved forward and placed a hand on her shoulders to steady her, just incase she did faint. The technician had had a patient pass out in the x-ray room before, and it wasn't a really pretty sight. All of the equipment was so hard and firm that the woman of course was bleeding by the time she got to the floor.

Pregnant?

Nikita gasped as she moved her hands to her chest. It was the explanation for everything that Nikita had been trying to find for a couple weeks now to what was happening to her.

It was also a nightmare.

"Ma'am? Is there any chance that you are pregnant?" the technician questioned. He looked at her and just knew that she figured it out. He had seen it several times before also. It was a question he hated to ask, but it was for the best safety for the mother and child.

"I'm a bit late..." Nikita finally whispered out and the man nodded his head and moved over to the table, pulling out the protective clothing. He turned and placed it over Nikita and moved for some more. "But it doesn't mean that I am pregnant... I just get stressed..."

"Sure..." the man stated as he picked up the chart and Nikita grabbed his arm.

"You can't write this down," Nikita stated and the technician stared at Nikita. He looked around and then leaned against the table himself.

"Look, clearly you think something is going on. It won't take long to get tested here. I mean, they can tell you yes or no in a matter of minutes," The technician stated and Nikita shook her head back and forth. He moved away and started to pull at the film. The next words Nikita stated were when the man positioned Nikita's knee for the x-ray.

"You know... you fell... This is something that should be looked at now," The technician continued to hound Nikita. She blocked him out, turning her head away, but his words weren't ignored by her mind. Instead, they rang over and over again in her head.

The technician swallowed when he saw the young woman crying. Things like having a baby should be joyous and shouldn't cause terrified reactions. That was what was occurring. The technician worked in silence as he stared at Nikita. He thought a lot about his own little daughter at home.

"I'm sorry, I made you upset," The technician stated as he walked back into the room after completing the wet read of the x-rays. Personally, he was stunned not to find a broke bone or a chip or two floating around. So far, she was clear for the knee.

"It's the pain," Nikita stated and the man nodded his head. Knowing what he did about Nikita, he did not say anything more. He touched Nikita's side and helped her to sit up.

"Well... your x-rays came back clean... that means you are off to the MRI. They are going to ask you about your menstrual cycle too," The technician stated as he looked into Nikita's eyes.

He knew.

Nikita knew.

But neither one could say anything. Nikita couldn't. She couldn't think of the implications of her situation right now. She wanted to run away from it.

Nikita just didn't realize that she couldn't run away from it.

~~

Birkoff rushed outside and pulled the phone out of his pocket. He paced back and forth in the dark skies. It was terrible; the morning was almost on them, when Nikita was finally taken into the MRI. The waits had been unbearable, Nikita had been uncommunicative, and Linda just continued to supply Birkoff with coffee.

"Yeah?" Walter groggily answered the phone and Birkoff leaned against the building and sighed. It was great to hear Walter's voice.

"We got so many problems here, I don't know where to start Walter! I need your help right now! I don't care what you are doing or who you are doing, I just need you to think about me and Nikita... because we are in just crap I don't know where to start!" Birkoff blurted out and Walter stumbled his way to a stool. For several hours, after Michael confined in him of how injured Nikita was, Walter waited for this phone call. He had succumbed to sleep not long ago himself.

"First, slow down boy," Walter grumbled as he steady himself on the perch of the stool.

"Walter!" Birkoff snapped and Walter opened his eyes. His mind registered the agitation in Birkoff's voice.

"This is about her getting hurt out on that mission?" Walter questioned as he rubbed his hands up his face. He rolled his head to the side, trying to do anything to make him feel awake.

"We are at the hospital now. At first Nikita didn't want to see anyone... and we were going to let her do that and then she passed out from the pain. Do you know how insane she is! She isn't taking any pain medication. She won't let them put an IV in her to give her fluids. Nikita's mood swings are everywhere, Walter! I can't handle her!" Birkoff rushed out as Walter blinked his eyes. The most of what he heard was a rush of words, but he clearly heard the beginning.

"You took her to the hospital?" Walter questioned and then slammed his hand down on the desk. Now he wanted to kill Madeline. To subject Nikita to a regular hospital when she could have had medical inside of Section One was inhumane. He wanted to know why Madeline did all of this.

"I didn't have a choice, Walter. They are trying to get the swelling in her knee to come down. It looks like a purple basketball.. well, maybe a softball now," Birkoff informed Walter and Walter shook his head. This was unthinkable. And this was information that Walter was going to have to pass onto Michael. He would want to know this. The younger man had been beside himself once Davenport reported that Nikita had made it safely back to the house.

"Well... that should slow her down some," Walter stated and he heard the strangled groan on the other end of the connection.

"Walter, I wish it was that easy," Birkoff finally stated and Walter slid off of the stool. He had a feeling he wanted to have his feet on firm ground for this.

"You are holding something back from me? I told you that you could call me anytime!" Walter firmly stated, upset that Birkoff had waited. Just from the young man's tone, Walter started to shake his head. Some people had to learn when things were way over their heads. Birkoff was not one of the people that knew how to ask for help.

"The past weeks have been terrible, Walter. She is not eating. She eats like a horse. I mean the other night she didn't eat at all and threw up all night. Then she went shopping for a dress and threw pizza at me before running out for the mission... And the one night she didn't know how to read French so she basically threw a temper tantrum by throwing the menu down, and the after dinner she is rubbing her body up and down mine!" Birkoff rattled off and Walter blinked his eyes. Again, he only caught bits and pieces of what Birkoff actually said, and it rang some not very nice bells.

"Birkoff... slow down. Now, how long has she been acting... strange?" Walter questioned and he shook his head as Birkoff sighed. The young man if he wasn't so far away, would have gotten a whooping' for the way he was acting right now.

"Too long, Walter," Birkoff sighed out again.

"Ok... so basically... she has been having mood swings, erratic appetite, and periods of nausea?" Walter questioned, needing to know this immediately.

"Yes! And she is rude! And ignorant! And she'll cook a meal that she doesn't like to make me happy, but it only makes me sad! And all she writes in that damn journal of hers that I gave her was how much she misses Michael!" Birkoff huffed out and Walter blinked his eyes once again. Just when he thought he had Birkoff calmed down to the point that rational thought may occur, he turns and spiels out tons of new things that only makes Walter's heart plunge deeper.

"You read her journal?" Walter questioned in disgust. That was just low on Birkoff's part.

"I wanted to know what was going on. We made this pact to tell the truth, but I know that she doesn't. I thought that something was going on before this mission Walter. I know that something else is going on. This isn't the Nikita that I know!" Birkoff urged out and Walter looked around and leaned on his wall. He started to slide down the wall.

Over the phone was not a good way to have the facts of life conversation.

"It's possible that she doesn't even know the truth, Birkoff," Walter whispered sadly as he dropped his head. Walter knew what was going on in his heart and his mind was screaming against it. It sure was going to complicate things.

"She said that once to me..." Birkoff responded and Walter leaned his head against the wall.

"Do you know when she last saw Michael?" Walter questioned, hoping to enlighten Birkoff without having to spell it out for the young man.

"Before this mission... and she just saw him yesterday..." Birkoff replied and Walter nodded his head.

"And when was the last time that Nikita was with Michael?" Walter questioned.

"About a month ago.. maybe five..." Birkoff started to say out firmly and then stopped as he listened to his own words. "No..." Birkoff whispered and Walter closed his eyes.

"It is a distinct possibility that Nikita is pregnant... and she doesn't even realize it," Walter stated, not only for Birkoff's well being but for his own.

*

Nikita gnawed on her bottom lip as Birkoff trampled his way back into Nikita's room for the tenth time in five minutes. Nikita looked up and narrowed her eyes on him. She just wanted him to go to work. That was all that she wanted him to do. She didn't care if he sat at work thinking about her or sat at work playing computer games. Nikita needed him to leave.

Since she got back from the hospital mid-morning on Saturday, crutches and all, there were only a few things on Nikita's mind. Those thoughts all went back to her x-rays and that one word repeated over and over again in Nikita's head. Pregnant.

"I want you to just relax today... I'll call Madeline and explain to her why you aren't going to do the profiles for the week," Birkoff stated as he adjusted his black tie against his blue jean shirt. Birkoff had to go to work and Nikita knew this. It was the only thing that made this back and forth of Birkoff's bearable. All day Sunday had been a nightmare. Birkoff just was with her the entire time.

"I am going to be fine, Birkoff," Nikita stated as she leaned her head back. Her knee was propped up, although technically, all the tests and doctors couldn't find anything at all wrong with the knee. It was ruled a severe bruise and she was advice to keep weight off of it for the week.

"Nikita, I don't like leaving you here with you like this," Birkoff stated as he leaned against the door. He looked at Nikita in a different light right now. He heard Walter's words constantly, wondering if Nikita would ever catch on or if he could wait that long to say something.

"I'm sore, Birkoff... But I am feeling a lot.. better," Nikita choked out and she turned her head as the tears rushed her face. She was frustrated with that reaction. Here Nikita was trying to convince Birkoff that she was fine, so she could run out and get a pregnancy test, and she broke down into tears.

"Nikita.. something is going on here... Can't you tell me?" Birkoff questioned as he moved to the bed and carefully sat down. He looked at the hump of the knee and reached out pull Nikita's shoulders around. She looked at him with her blue eyes and Birkoff gasped.

"You know something is going on, Nikita... Let me help you..." Birkoff offered as he reached his hand out. It was going to be hard, they both could only wish for it to be as simple as touching hands for Nikita and Birkoff. Nikita pushed his hand away and leaned her head back once again.

"I'm just tired... I didn't sleep well," Nikita tried to lie her way. Nikita licked her lips, noticing that Birkoff was not as easy to push over as he once to be. He had been learning her habits too quickly and Nikita bounced her head off of the wall.

"You have a meeting, Birkoff. You can't miss it. What if Ryce is going to be there?" Nikita questioned and Birkoff shook his head as he touched his fingers to Nikita's face.

"I care about you," Birkoff divulged with a voice that expressed every emotion that Birkoff had at that moment. It was the pain he had for watching Nikita like this, but also recognizing the strength that Nikita had that he didn't have. It was for her stubborn nature that annoyed him, but it was also a love for Nikita that wasn't based off of lust or love like Michael's. It was a special love and that tone, almost undid Nikita.

But it didn't.

"I know, Birkoff. If I knew what was going on... I'd come to you Birkoff," Nikita replied back and Birkoff stepped off the bed. He had his answer now. Nikita didn't know that she was pregnant. Birkoff wanted to blame Michael right now but held everything back. Birkoff couldn't break this kind of news to Nikita.

"I'm going to go to sleep for most of the day, Birkoff... I'll be fine," Nikita stated and Birkoff nodded his head up and down. There was no use to make this entire situation worse. Birkoff looked over his shoulder once more and noticed the grateful look of peace on Nikita's face as he exited.

He had a bad feeling about this. Nikita was up to something and there was nothing he could do.

Nikita waited for a half hour, staring up at the ceiling. The patterns in the ceiling kept on spelling out words like baby, pregnant, and mother. Nikita sniffled at her tears, waiting for the time to pass. She looked to the clock and swallowed.

The fact was Nikita didn't have to go out on this day. Ever since the technician mentioned it, she knew that he was right and that she had just be ignoring the truth of the situation she was in. All the times that her stomach churned and all the times that she actually got sick, they all made sense now.

The pain rushed Nikita's body as she heaved her legs over the bed. She looked at the crutches and groaned as she stood up.

She had to go get a test.

And then she had to fix everything.

~~

"Hey, Michael... Got some time to talk?" Walter questioned as he grabbed Michael's arm. "Good... here we go..."

"What is going on?" Michael immediately demanded as Walter turned the corner. The older man's taut grip on Michael never conceded as he waited for the elevator to move to pick them up. The silence continued as they made the trip, Michael effortlessly comprehended that this was something serious, or at least something that Walter shouldn't have knowledge about for this action.

"What is going on?" Michael questioned once more as the doors opened and Walter pulled the younger man down the hallway of the sublevel. Michael noted the scramblers placed strategically on the walls and how Walter pressed each one as he went.

"I have some interesting phone calls on Friday night and Saturday," Walter remarked as he turned and leaned against the angular wall of the sublevel. Michael wrenched his arm away from Walter's clutch and stared at the older man.

"Nikita," Michael remarked. He knew it was that simple. It seemed that Nikita was always the topic when top-secret methods for having a conversation were used. Walter nodded his head and Michael swallowed.

"Her knee?" Michael questioned and Walter brusquely nodded his head up and down. It was quite clear Walter's feelings on this situation.

"Why did Madeline send her away?" Walter probed Michael, hoping for an explanation. If anything, Madeline sending Nikita always made Walter more nervous. It made Walter wonder if Madeline knew more than she was letting on to.

"She was being mean. She feels that the mission for Ryce Borjas is top priority," Michael responded much like a machine. Michael looked down the hallway and looked at Walter. "How is she?"

"Her knee? After spending eight to ten hours in the hospital, they called it a severe bruise, gave her crutches, and sent her on her way," Walter explained in simple words. It was clear that Michael had a feeling that Nikita's knee was worse than that.

"Eight hours? What happened?" Michael questioned. Walter laughed. All of those inside of Section One soon forget about the long waits that happen inside of regular hospitals. However, Walter also knew that he had additional information on how they dragged Nikita to the hospital.

"They brought her in an ambulance... She had passed out from the pain... Until that point, she was going to stay home," Walter informed Michael and Michael blinked his eyes. He looked away from Walter and then back at him.

"Nikita passed out from pain? That doesn't sound like her," Michael stated and Walter licked his lips. It was going to take Michael some time and Walter shook his head.

"I don't think she has been feeling like herself for sometime... Do you have any input on that?" Walter questioned and Michael looked to Walter and rolled his head. "Oh, other than your feeling that something is wrong without facts," Walter modified the question.

"She didn't tell me anything, Walter. But she was extremely emotional in the van, unlike anything I have seen from her before," Michael released the information and Walter leaned against the wall more. He didn't know if he couldn't tell Michael. Right now, there was no proof of what was going on with Nikita. Walter sure didn't want to cause more problems between Michael and Nikita if Nikita wasn't pregnant.

"Oh, Michael... I think your feeling is right..." Walter admitted as he shook his head back and forth. Michael turned away and stared at the wall. The younger man stood like that for some time, staring at the wall before turning around.

"You know something," Michael declared with tense words. Walter blinked his eyes. He knew that to lie to Michael about that would be stupid. It was quite clear that Walter knew something. The risk that Walter had taken all ready for setting this up was too much for just a friendly chat.

"I have a hunch about something Michael. It isn't clear and it hasn't been proven. Until I know for sure, I'm not uttering it. Not to you," Walter stated out in stern words. Walter leaned his head back as Michael moved in one polished move to surround Walter and press him against the wall.

"I suggest that if this is anything about Nikita that you just tell me," Michael threatened as he stared into the older eyes. There were several things in the world that Michael couldn't tolerate. One of the things on the top of the list is when someone holds information about Nikita back. It is wrong and Michael could not tolerate it.

"It's a hunch Michael. It's not even based off of my information. It is based off of second hand information," Walter filled in the blanks. Michael stepped away and allowed hands to slap the side of his thighs as he turned in one short circle, Michael's way of pacing.