Birkoff pushed back the little strands of his hair as he sat down on the couch. It had been hours since Nikita was taken to medical and he had yet to hear anything. Not that he would be the first person that would be told of anything. Birkoff had attempted to write down his version of what happened, but he was just too distracted.

His thoughts went back to what Nikita wanted. She wanted to see her daughter.

Now, Birkoff was waiting in this tiny room that he had never seen before to see Maralah. Madeline spoke of the little girl fondly and felt that it was best that Birkoff told the girl of her mother's illness. It wasn't a nice thing for Birkoff to have the honor of doing. Maralah was going to cry and that always made Birkoff cry also.

He just didn't know why Nikita didn't tell him that she was hurt. It made no sense to him. Walter attempted to figure out why but nothing came out of it right. It made no sense at all for Nikita to hide the life-threatening injury from someone who could have started an IV for her and started the proper medicines. If something bad happened to Nikita now, Birkoff would only have himself to blame.

"DADA!" Maralah exclaimed as she pushed away from Madeline's arms and into the room. Birkoff dropped his arms down and accepted Maralah in his arms. It was clear that she was tired, but also worried. She must have been wondering from the time that Nikita had her picked up if she was ever going to see Nikita and Birkoff again.

"I'll leave you two alone... Michael will be by," Madeline spoke as she pulled the door closed. Birkoff stared at the door and swallowed. Michael would be good at this. He was a great father, even when he wasn't allowed to have good contact with Maralah. Birkoff was sure that he couldn't do this.

"Mama?" Maralah questioned and Birkoff pressed his lips together. He rubbed her black hair and then kissed the top of her head. He felt the tears starting to form and Birkoff cursed himself.

"She isn't feeling really good right now...." Birkoff stated and Maralah tilted her head to the side and saw the glimmering in Birkoff's eyes. It started a chain reaction that only made Birkoff want to cry more. He reached out and shook his head back and forth.

"No... Maralah... your Mama is going to be fine... She just can't be with us right now..." Birkoff tried to ex plain. The girl started to squirm in Birkoff's arms. She didn't like what Birkoff was saying. It was mean and ugly.

"NO!" Maralah shouted and Birkoff swallowed as she succeeded in pulling away from Birkoff's grasp. She moved her toddler chubby body away from Birkoff to stare at a corner. Birkoff stared at her and turned his head away. He didn't feel adequate enough to be doing this.

"Maralah... please... Your mommy would want you to listen to me..." Birkoff stated as he stood up and moved towards the little girl. She turned and stared at Birkoff. Birkoff stopped.

Damn she looked like Michael.

"BAD DADA!" Maralah yelled as she went from stern Michael to hysterical Nikita. Birkoff shook his head and sunk down to his knees.

"Please... Maralah... We love you... and you love your Mama... As soon as she is ready... I'll take you to her..." Birkoff pleaded with the girl. She folded her hands and sat down on the floor, and cried harshly.

Birkoff leaned his head back and wanted to scream himself.

That was when the door opened and Michael looked over at the two individuals on the floor. One his daughter. Michael closed the door and looked to Birkoff as the young man perked up somewhat.

"Did you hear anything?" Birkoff questioned and Michael blinked his eyes. Birkoff probably knew more than Michael did at this point. Madeline had purposely dragged him away from medical and into a strategy meeting. Once that was over, Michael was informed of where his daughter was.

Michael did make the detour to medical, where Walter stood, waiting for news. The old man looked years older, aged by the stress of not knowing. Michael dropped his head as he peered in through the glass. Somewhere in that vast area was Nikita and they didn't want him near her.

Michael took his leave easily. Nikita would want him to be with their daughter. That was her focus. That was her life. Michael sighed as he sat down on the couch and looked at Birkoff.

Birkoff was a good man. Thus far, not a very successful father with a child that just wanted to see her mommy.

"Come sit here, Birkoff.... I know some..." Michael stated. It was a partial lie, but Birkoff didn't know that. Michael needed Birkoff to calm down if he had any hopes of calming down Maralah.

"Like?" Birkoff questioned as he stood up and immediately sat down on the other edge of the couch. Michael looked to his daughter for a second, realizing that as Birkoff slowly stopped crying, she was too. Michael turned his attention to Birkoff and pressed his lips together.

"She is still in surgery... But she is strong," Michael commented and Birkoff narrowed his eyed with near anger. These were all the things that Birkoff knew and understood. He did not want Michael to play games with his mind.

"I know why she didn't tell you... I know that it is a big question in your mind," Michael stated as he stared at Birkoff. He was very close to Maralah and yes; Maralah didn't know that he wasn't her father. But it was clear to Michael. Birkoff couldn't see what Nikita was willing to sacrifice, because Birkoff felt nothing like Nikita did.

Michael would have made the same irrational decision to hide a bullet wound for the same rational reason. To see that their child was ok.

The challenge now was to explain all of this to Birkoff without hurting his feelings or opinions. It was delicate situation. For now, Birkoff was Maralah's father in her mind and Michael could not risk damaging her daughter. She had gone through enough in the past several days.

"Nikita needed to see her daughter... She worried about what would happen if Operations was aware that she was injured. To make sure that her daughter was not taken advantage of... or given away because I wasn't ready to watch out for her... Nikita waited to tell of her injury," Michael spelt out as simply as he could. It did nothing to belittle Birkoff and it explained clearly what Nikita's mind was thinking. In ways, Michael felt that it was very wrong, but when he looked at Maralah, he knew it to be very correct.

"Oh my..." Birkoff whispered as he turned his head. Michael looked at Birkoff and sighed. Birkoff was going to be ok in a few minutes. Michael looked to the floor to where Maralah was. He smiled softly and looked to her.

"Why don't you come up on the couch and sit with me, Maralah?" Michael offered as he reached his hands out for his daughter. Maralah at first, just stared at Michael, but then moved. She allowed Michael to place her on his lap and to stroke her hair back softly.

"Mama?" Maralah questioned Michael and he smiled softly. He patted Maralah's knee and saw the band-aid that was there. It felt like months ago that Nikita told him of how talented their daughter was. Even at her young and tender age, she was trying to be daring. She tried to walk back up the slide from the bottom. She fell and gashed herself. Nikita had been glad that it wasn't too bad.

"You know what this is?" Michael questioned as he pointed to the band-aid.

"Boo-boo," Maralah stated and Michael nodded his head. This was much better. He had something to point back to that Maralah understood.

"Well... see your mommy has a really bad boo-boo... And it is going to take some time to heal... Do you understand?" Michael questioned and Maralah looked up at Michael's eyes. There was a connection there that Michael felt and then he felt it as Maralah snapped it away. For those few moments, it was as if Maralah totally understood that Michael was her father.

"Kiss to make bedder?" Maralah questioned and Michael sighed. Michael looked at Maralah and kissed the top of her head again.

"Well... this boo-boo is going to take a lot more than a kiss... See.. the doctors have to put this big band aid on it..." Michael stated and Maralah pulled at Michael's hand. There was a big smile on her face.

"Width Elmo?" Maralah questioned and Michael crossed his eyes.

"No... a doctor is going to put the band aid on her..." Michael stated and Maralah giggled softly and pointed to her own band-aid. She knew that this man was smart, but at times he was very silly.

"NO! Width Elmo!" Maralah stated as she pointed to the cartoon character that was on her own band-aid. Michael smiled and couldn't help but chuckle. Maralah's personality was definitely most like Nikita's.

"Big Girls and Mommies and Daddies... They don't get band aids with Elmo on them..." Michael stated and Maralah's face dropped slightly. She yawned and Michael shifted her on his lap.

Everyone needed sleep. Michael glanced over his shoulder to see that Birkoff was already napping. Michael rubbed his ear softly and then looked to his daughter.

"But once the band aid is on... She is going to need all the kisses to make the boo-boo better," Michael stated happily, trying not to show the true worry that he had. Maralah smiled as she yawned again.

"You take Mala?" Maralah questioned and Michael nodded his head. He snuggled her close to his body and stared at the door.

Soon all three were asleep.

And Nikita was out of surgery.

And Walter left them, just like that as he left the room to go be by Nikita's side.

*

There were only three people that Nikita had expected to open her eyes too.

Michael. Birkoff. Walter.

None of those men stood by her bedside as her eyes slowly opened up against the harsh light. Nikita squinted and turned her head to the side. It was quite clear that the person standing near her did not care about her well being and dim the lights some. That narrowed the field quickly.

Operations.

"I am amazed," Operations stated even as Nikita's vision continued to shift and warp. Nikita turned her head and stared towards the gray hair and closed her eyes softly.

"Amazed that I am alive? Or amazed that I hid it?" Nikita croaked out as she opened her eyes against that harsh light. She stared up at the old man's face and waited for the answer. When he smiled, Nikita felt sick to her stomach and tried to shift her weight in bed.

It didn't help.

"Amazed at how good of a mother you are. You have done a splendid job bringing up Maralah," Operations dryly stated with a smile on his face. Nikita would have thought about the irony of the statement. This was something that Operations of old wouldn't have wasted his time commenting on.

"Of course, it is a shame that she doesn't have your hair... but she is going to grow up to be quite good looking," Operations continued and Nikita stared at him for a second. The monitors were indicating that her heart was racing, but no one moved to get Operations out of the room.

"And your point is?" Nikita questioned with tense words, even though her throat was as parched as the desert.

"There is no point, Nikita. I am just telling you what a good job you are doing," Operations stated as he placed his hand on Nikita's bed railing. There was something distinctly fake about this man. His words weren't worth their weight in spit.

"Positive reinforcement has never been your tactic. What do you want?" Nikita questioned as her head pounded. The medicine was starting to wear off and so was Nikita's patience. She wanted to know the demands that she was going to have to live with in order to stay with her daughter.

"I want you to protect your daughter, Nikita. She is going to be a valuable asset to us," Operations stated with his smile spreading. Nikita turned her head and tried to shift in her bed. The pain ripped through her back and Nikita looked at Operations. She couldn't scream in pain. She couldn't cry in pain. There was no way to get out of this conversation until Operations believed that he had beaten Nikita down as far as he could or someone stopped it. It was quite clear that medical staff didn't give a crap about Nikita when Michael wasn't around.

"So now Section One has something to gain out of her other than using her against Michael?" Nikita questioned. Nikita stared at him, letting her pain come out with her words. Her eyes were daggers, hitting into Operations. Nikita didn't even realize how much Nikita had rattled Operations.

The plan was for Maralah to be given away to a family that could take of her. Operations during this entire time believed that Nikita would fail as a mother. It was difficult for him to admit that he was wrong. He had already done that with Madeline once he saw how Nikita pushed all of her concerned about her own physical health for the safety of her daughter. Maralah would be protected by Nikita and Operations was pleased to allow Madeline to set up living arrangements for Nikita and Maralah.

With of course, requirements and restrictions.

The door opened behind Operations and he knew that his time was just stopped. There would be no more prodding Nikita, trying to see how upset he could make her. He wasn't going to do anything too harsh to Nikita or Maralah. Of course, Nikita wasn't going to be happy with some of the decisions, but it was better than what was first planned.

"She is supposed to be resting," Walter's voice growled out as he spotted Operations towering over Nikita, who appeared to be in extreme amounts of pain. Walter, just looking at Nikita, helped to ease some of the pain and slow her heart rate. Walter was sickened with the way the doctor's just turned their heads while Operations did whatever he wanted.

"I was just leaving," Operations pleasantly reported to Walter as he turned his head slightly. He leaned into Nikita and smiled once more. "Again, you are a good mother, Nikita. That is something that you will be rewarded for."

Walter stood at the door as he waited for Operations to leave. He noticed that there were tears on Nikita's face and he couldn't chance the danger that Operations could do. Walter slammed the door and immediately turned down the lights.

"Thank you," Nikita stated, thanking Walter for so many things that he simply did in a few minutes. Walter moved closer and started to pour a glass of water for Nikita. There was no need for words as Walter tended to the needs that Operations had neglected.

"Slow sips..." Walter stated and Nikita nodded her head. She complied with Walter's instructions and quickly turned her head to the side. Walter pulled down the bed rail and hitched his hip up on the side of the bed.

"How you feeling?" Walter questioned. Nikita blinked her eyes and tried to smile.

"I've been better..." Nikita started. She looked around and swallowed. "When do I get to see Mara?"

"Nikita... You just got out of surgery... I'm sure you realize the risk that you took by not telling anyone," Walter started. It was best to get this all out of the way so Michael wouldn't have to waste his time doing it. Nikita rolled her head to the side and then rolled it to face Walter.

"When do I get to see Mara?" Nikita questioned again, not straying from the thought that had possessed her mind from the time that she got captured. There were other issues that needed to be taken care of, but time could heal those. What Nikita needed now was the reason why she hid her injury.

"Well... I just saw Michael, Maralah, and Birkoff curled up on a couch about two hours ago, when you came out of surgery," Walter stated and Nikita closed her eyes. Nikita looked towards the door and then back to Walter.

"It was the most beautiful thing I have seen, sugar. Maralah was curled up on Michael's lap..." Walter stated as he sensed Nikita's drifting mind. Nikita shifted in the bed and groaned in pain.

"Let me get someone to get you more medication..." Walter said as he stood up and pulled up the bed railing. Nikita placed her hand on Walter's as she attempted to shake her head back and forth. She didn't want any more drugs. She wanted her daughter Maralah.

The door opened once more and Walter was expecting a doctor. Nikita was in pain and needed something to ease that pain. Nikita was smiling and Walter turned slightly.

"Mama!" Maralah exclaimed with a soft voice that Michael had instructed her about. Michael held his daughter in his arms as they stood at the foot of the bed. Walter looked at Michael and stepped away from Nikita.

"Mara... I'm so glad you are ok!" Nikita stated with a smile breaking across her face that showed all the love that she had for Maralah. It also revealed the happiness that was sweeping her heart seeing her daughter in her father's arms. It had been way too long.

"How did you know?" Walter questioned Michael and Michael looked at Nikita.

"Madeline woke us when she saw Operations had come in..." Michael stated and Walter nodded his head. Michael moved closer and placed Maralah down on the foot of Nikita's bed. Michael placed a hand on her shoulder. Although they had discussed how Maralah had to act in front of Nikita, being careful and staying down by her feet, Michael didn't quite trust the little girl.

In ways she was too much like her mother.

"Mama! Miss you!" Maralah stated from the foot of Nikita's bed. Nikita smiled and nodded her head up and down. How Nikita ached to hold her daughter, but she bowed to the wisdom of Michael. The pain was continuing to grow and she wouldn't want to scare her daughter anymore than she was.

"I missed you too. Have you been good?" Nikita questioned and Maralah nodded her head up and down.

"How boo-boo?" Maralah questioned as she lifted her eyes to look at Nikita. Nikita looked at Michael and Walter. She truly didn't know how she was medically.

"They got the bullet out. No bone damage. Lost some blood. No infection. You were lucky," Michael quickly ran down the list of important details. The rest would come later. Nikita smiled and looked at Maralah.

"The boo-boo is getting better slowly..." Nikita stated and Maralah smiled.

"Later can I kiss it and make it better?" Maralah nodded and Nikita smiled. She closed her eyes. She was so tired and slowly the pain was winning.

"Come on Maralah... Your mother needs her rest..." Nikita heard Walter's voice stating off in the distance. Nikita tried to open her eyes. Nikita tried to tell her daughter that she loved her.

"I'm right here, Nikita..." Michael stated as he took Nikita's hand. Nikita smiled in the haze and found it so much easier to fall asleep.

~~

Nikita placed her feet on the ground as Michael rounded the corner and into the room. He smiled and looked around.

"I guess you are ready to get out of here," Michael stated and Nikita nodded her head. Three days was three days too long. Nikita looked up at Michael as she slid on the huge flannel shirt over her arms.

"Do you know the living arrangements yet?" Nikita questioned and Michael shook his head back and forth. Nikita's apartment was long gone and with a daughter, things got more complicated. Nikita and Michael had been waiting and hoping that they would just be allowed. Nikita was going to be healing quickly and Maralah needed to be protected.

"No... but Madeline was on her way down here. She stopped to talk to Birkoff," Michael stated and Nikita nodded her head. Birkoff, being the consummate computer professional, got back to work quickly. Nikita was sure that it was because he didn't want to deal with the issues of what happened during their capture. Nikita didn't blame him. She wasn't sure if she could ever write her report.

"How is he doing?" Nikita questioned and Michael sighed as he looked down to his feet. Michael had found that the rejection of his daughter stung a bit more now. She would go to Birkoff for everything and call him Dada. Birkoff tried to discourage it, but it didn't seem to matter.

Michael was just a nice man.

"He is probably doing better than all of us," Michael issued out as he looked and saw Madeline standing at the doorway. Madeline smiled at Michael as he picked up Nikita's small bag.

"I want to speak with Nikita alone," Madeline ordered and Michael dropped his head. He nodded his head outside and Nikita blinked her eyes.

Nikita instantly did not like the tone that Madeline had taken. It was one that seemed to foreshadow something bad. Nikita didn't know if she could handle anything else going wrong right now. Nikita just wanted to get her daughter home and start the process of deprogramming her from calling Birkoff Dada and teaching her whom her real father was.

The door closed and Madeline moved towards Nikita. Madeline tilted her head to the side and smiled.

"We have a house set up for you, Maralah, and Birkoff," Madeline stated, knowing what this announcement was going to do to Nikita. Nikita actually stepped backwards with those words.

"Don't you mean Michael?" Nikita questioned as the tears started to form in her eyes.

"No. Maralah is identifying Birkoff as her father and we feel that any change from that would be detrimental to her," Madeline stated and Nikita shook her head back and forth. Nikita was living in utter disbelief of this. This couldn't possibly be what is best for Maralah. Nikita was Maralah's mother and she should be the one that makes these kinds of decisions.

"Madeline... I beg you to reconsider this," Nikita stated and Madeline shook her head back and forth.

"This does not have to be permanent. Of course the way you and Birkoff run the house is totally up to you. You do not have to act as husband and wife," Madeline stated and Nikita closed her eyes. They were going to put her in a house with her daughter and maybe Michael could come and visit Nikita.

That wasn't going to help anyone.

"What do you mean that this is not permanent?" Nikita questioned and Madeline shifted her hands to in front of her waist. Madeline did not want to tell this either.

"Operations and I have agreed that if and when you reach level four status, you can make the decision of who you live with and you may chose Michael," Madeline informed and Nikita stepped back again. She rolled her shoulder back, just to feel the pain to make sure that this was all real.

"Level four! Do you know how hard that is going to be? You are going to make me make the decision of what is more important, achieving level four status or being with my child!" Nikita hissed out as she felt her entire body trembling.

"Yes, that is your decision. I did work on Operations, Nikita. It could have been worse," Madeline slowly revealed and Nikita stared at Madeline. Madeline felt terrible as Nikita's bottom lip trembled.

"Operations was going to wait until you made level six. I call this opportunity lucky," Madeline tried to help Nikita out on thinking positive about this.

"If he doesn't have me killed first!" Nikita hissed as she turned and left the room.

And that was exactly the reaction that Madeline was expecting.

*

Michael walked down the hallways of Section One. Nikita, Maralah, and Birkoff had been back for almost three weeks, and everything feels strange. Nikita must have been doing the majority of her work out of the home, and was just coming in for the briefings and missions. She had yet to be on a mission with Michael.

The separation was making Michael go a bit stir crazy. The woman that should be his wife, he noted that Nikita had been wearing her ring still, and his daughter were back, but except for the housewarming dinner they had together, they had been separated. It wasn't what was supposed to happen.

Michael for his part, this week started to look at the missions that Nikita was being sent on. They were easy missions and Michael knew that with what she was doing on the missions, level four would never happen. Not only that, Nikita was very talented and they were wasting her. However, Michael wanted to work on getting her better missions, but didn't know if she was physically better.

Michael tried to call last night. The phone number he had been given was changed. It seemed as if Section One was trying to separate them forever. That worry didn't even take hold in Michael. He knew that it would never happen. What worry did get placed in Michael's mind is that there was something more going on here. Nikita was never one to sit back and just do missions. Add that fact to the challenge that Operations and Madeline placed on her, something was wrong.

Michael turned and walked towards the computers. This was one of the best things to happen to Section One in the past two years. Birkoff had returned and things were getting immediately better. He had gained a lot of strength and leadership skills while he was gone. It was clearly something that Nikita helped to do with him, along with playing a father. The intel was totally correct and coming in quickly. Thanks to Birkoff. Everyone had missed him.

"Birkoff... do you have some time?" Michael questioned as he towered over Birkoff and the computer. Birkoff looked up and pressed his lips together. Michael saw the look in Birkoff's eyes and knew that the computer expert was prepared for this and perhaps, relieved that Michael made the move.

"Sure... I want to check your computer either way... You can't image all of the junk that got placed on the computers while I was gone," Birkoff commented as he stood up and started to walk towards Michael's office. Michael nodded his head and followed behind, trying to keep to his normal pace. There was no reason to alert Section One that he thought something was wrong.

Michael entered the office and closed the door. Birkoff standing near the computer, but hadn't turned it on yet. Michael secured the office and walked over to the blinds. He peered out and no one was watching them. He turned and looked to Birkoff.

"How is Nikita?" Michael questioned and Birkoff looked around. He was worried and Michael caught that immediately. Michael sat back on his heels, telling himself that he was not going to react on anything too soon. It was going to be difficult, but Michael looked to Birkoff for the answers.

"She is fine physically, Michael. You know that," Birkoff stated as he lifted his eyes to Michael. Birkoff knew that it was not the answer that Michael wanted to hear. Birkoff turned his head to look at the computer. He felt like he was doing Nikita a great disservice by telling Michael everything, but there was where the problem was.

What was best for Nikita? Birkoff had this funny feeling that the best was to tell Michael everything. She wasn't doing anything to help herself at this moment.

"I asked how is Nikita. I didn't ask how is she physically," Michael stated out in a voice that sounded much more threatening than it was meant to be. Birkoff tapped his fingers along the screen of Michael's computer and then tilted his head slightly.

"You know... um... she just turned in her report about what happened when we were captured... Have you read it?" Birkoff questioned. Michael shook his head back and forth as he made the mental note to pull up that report. Birkoff would not have mentioned it if it was not important to know about.

"I haven't read it.... Is something wrong in it?" Michael prompted Birkoff, hoping to get more information out of him. It would just be easier for all involved.

"I don't think it matches mine... and I turned my in weeks ago," Birkoff responded as his eyes flashed across Michael's. Michael turned his head to the side. He had his own disturbing feelings about what happened in that room. Only Nikita for the real, but then, that might be the problem.

"But... is Nikita been able to transition out of the mission and into the new house?" Michael questioned, trying to probe for the information that he needed. It would have been easier if he were just there with Nikita for a few days. He would know this and not have to ask about it.

"She likes the new house... it's just... never mind..." Birkoff stated as he turned his head away. He felt guilty for talking like this. He didn't know what he should or shouldn't say.

"Birkoff... How Nikita is getting through this transition is very important... If you know something, you should tell me," Michael urged Birkoff. It was not a threat. It was a plead. Michael wasn't going to be able to help Nikita achieve that level four status if something was wrong.

"Oh... She is just a lot like she was after Maralah was born... you know... when she was going through that withdrawn and drinking thing?" Birkoff questioned as he turned and looked at Michael. Michael turned his head away. That period of Nikita's life was darkness and to hear that Nikita had a lot of that darkness back was scary.

"She is drinking?" Michael questioned and Birkoff quickly shook his head back and forth. There was no alcohol in the house and that was not a concern of Birkoff's.

"She isn't drinking... but she is just sitting there... You didn't see her back then, Michael..." Birkoff warned out and Michael looked out of the blinds again. He couldn't stand hearing that Nikita was in pain and not seeking any way to resolve that pain.

"Thanks, Birkoff," Michael stated as he moved to the door and opened it. He watched as Birkoff stepped away. Michael of course, had many things to think about.

Number one was when he could go and see Nikita.

~~

Birkoff was the one that happened the door. Maralah was right behind him and threw the ball at Birkoff. Birkoff turned and picked the little girl up. She was getting so big and so quickly. It pained Michael to know that he couldn't be with her day in and day out like Birkoff could be.

"Nikita is in the den..." Birkoff stated to Michael as he stopped for a second. Birkoff was holding Maralah almost upside down, and the girl was laughing happily. Birkoff trudged off to the kitchen, giving Michael some space with Nikita.

Michael had been in the den before, but it had been with the lights on. Nikita was sitting there with the lights off, staring somewhere. At first, when Michael saw her, he thought that Nikita was asleep. But her eyes were opened, as Michael was barely able to make out the whites of her eyes.

"Nikita..." Michael whispered as he moved to the chair. He didn't want to startle Nikita, but she didn't seem to notice his presence. Yes, she did roll her head to check who had said her name, but she turned it back without saying anything. Michael looked around the dark room for a footstool to sit on as he took a position near the chair.

"Nikita, is everything ok?" Michael questioned as he stared at Nikita. She was withdrawn and depressed. All of those things were understandable. What would be unacceptable would be if Nikita did not speak about it.

"Yes," Nikita stated flatly as she looked at Michael. He wanted to shake her, knowing that something was wrong. She was lying to protect herself at this moment and Michael closed his eyes softly.

"Nikita... I read your report... I have a few questions," Michael started, hoping that Nikita would just open up at this point.

When Birkoff had directed Michael to this report, he had hoped that he wouldn't find anything. But Birkoff was right. Birkoff accounted for almost all the time and he reported what he saw. Nikita's was sure and to the point. It did not reflect that she spent several weeks writing it. It appeared as if Nikita just hurried to write it. Why Madeline accepted it was beyond Michael. It was clear that Nikita was hiding. Hiding was not good for an operative.

"What report?" Nikita questioned as she stared at Michael. There were tears flickering in her eyes. It was clear that Nikita knew exactly what report that Michael was asking about, but she didn't want to face it. Michael placed his hand on the arm of the chair and looked at Nikita as she rolled slightly away.

As if she was afraid.

"The one about the ending of the Borjas mission," Michael stated clearly as he tilted his head to the side. Michael wished that Nikita would just look into his eyes and let them stay there for a while. Nikita turned her head slightly and shrugged her shoulders.

"Madeline accepted it, Michael," Nikita dryly stated in defense of herself. Michael could tell that this wasn't something that Nikita wanted to discuss.

"I was wondering if something more happened.... I mean, your report didn't match Birkoff's in the details. Can you tell me them?" Michael questioned as he moved to touch Nikita.

And she jumped and flinched.

Michael felt his blood turn to ice when he saw this movement. Not because he was angry with Nikita for hiding, but angry because Section One, particularly Madeline, should have caught this. Michael was afraid of how deep Ryce Borjas had scarred Nikita. He was the man that loved Nikita, the man that had given Nikita the ring that was still on her finger. And she was afraid of his very touch.

"There is nothing more to say," Nikita commented as she looked at Michael. Michael studied her carefully. Nikita knew that Michael was worried about the flinch. It was all things that Nikita was not ready to deal with and Michael felt his heart breaking.

"Nikita... I can't help you get level four status if you don't let me help you," Michael stated out smoothly, hoping to use that as motivation to get Nikita to speak. Nikita's blue eyes stared at Michael for sometime, never moving from them. She was so close to breaking down and allowing Michael in.

But she didn't.

"I don't need your help. You can't get my status for me," Nikita stated out in a firm voice. Nikita looked to her hands and then looked to Michael.

"I think it is best that you go now," Nikita stated and Michael shook his head back and forth. He couldn't allow this to drop. Something was tormenting Nikita from that mission. Ryce Borjas did something to Nikita while they had her captured. Michael needed to hear it from Nikita's mouth with her words.

"Nikita, you need to talk about this... I read Birkoff's report... I saw the clothes you were in when you were outside of that building," Michael tried to push the issue. If he weren't going to get the information from Nikita being nice and tender, he would just have to change his tactic.

"How come you trust Birkoff's report and not mine?" Nikita questioned back with fire on each word. Michael pressed his lips together and stared at Nikita. He did not want to fight, but at least Nikita was replying quickly. If she was going to break, it may occur very quickly.

"I do trust you, Nikita.... but Birkoff's reported had details and accounted for most of the time. Yours didn't," Michael stated in words that he carefully stated. He didn't want Nikita to become too threatened that she ran away.

"Why do you have to pull all of this up again, Michael? It's over," Nikita urged out in a strong voice. She looked at Michael, beseeching him to drop the topic. Nikita didn't know how much Michael wanted to drop the subject and just hold her. But Nikita wouldn't allow him to hold her. Michael was sure if he did that now, that Nikita would flip out, emotionally.

"Because it isn't over, Nikita. This is bothering you right now. You need to discuss this," Michael stated as he stood up. He couldn't just sit there any more. This was tearing him apart. What happened to Nikita who was doing so well. She was a great mother and then everything tumbled down on her. Michael couldn't allow this to destroy her, because Maralah deserved to have a good mother, especially if her real father wasn't allowed to live with them.

"If I needed to discuss this, Madeline would have made me!" Nikita shouted as she leaned up in the chair. Finally Nikita was starting to react the way that Michael needed her too. It wasn't the words that Michael wanted, but he could work from here. He at least hoped that he could work from here.

"Do you really want to discuss what happened in that room with Ryce with Madeline? Would that be easier Nikita?" Michael demanded as he leaned forward and looked into Nikita's eyes. Michael felt his heart twinge as he wanted to kiss her and hug her. He wanted his love to replace all of the bad that Ryce had placed into her life right now. The man was dead and she was still being haunted by the details of what happened by not letting anyone know.

"Nothing is easy, Michael! It isn't going to happen. Madeline is satisfied. LET THIS DROP!" Nikita hollered as she pounded her hands against the arms of the chair. Michael raised an eyebrow as he shook his head back and forth. Nothing in his word was worth enough to make him drop this.

"I can't, Nikita. I care about you. This is doing something to you. You are separating yourself from your daughter. Don't let Ryce win now!" Michael shouted back. Michael heard his own voice echoing in the room and dropped his head. He went from controlled to out of control. He turned away from Nikita with tears in his eyes.

"He is dead... he can't win..." Nikita weakly added as the tears rolled out of her eyes. She wiped them and turned her head away from the image of Michael's body. She just couldn't tell him now. Nikita wished that she could, but he wouldn't understand.

"Then why can't you tell me?" Michael questioned as he stared at the darkness that Nikita had placed herself in. Nikita swallowed and looked at the image of Michael's back. He was slumping and Nikita realized how worried Michael was about this.

"This isn't about him... You don't know all of me, Michael. You just wouldn't understand!" Nikita declared as she dropped her head. She allowed her hair to fall in front of her face and drew in a ragged breath. Doing this was so hard. It was tug of war with her heart and there was only one way that she wanted it to end. In Michael's arms.

But she wasn't ready.

"Nikita.. please... Give me a chance," Michael urged as he turned and looked at Nikita. Nikita shook her head back and forth. She couldn't speak about it anymore. She stared at the door and waited for Michael to take the hint.

"Nikita... once you are ready... You know how to get in touch with me..." Michael sadly stated something that he didn't need to say. Nikita nodded her head and waited for him to leave. Nikita watched his body leave and then heard the front door close. She started to cry as she heard the car drive away.

She hoped to see him soon.

*

Nikita was just a shadow in the house and Birkoff worried more. It was like Michael's visit had set her back even more. Michael was supposed to help Nikita, not make it worse. Birkoff watched from the time that Michael left to almost twenty-two hours later carefully. Nothing was right and it was getting worse.

Nikita was not a bad mother to Maralah. As before, Nikita did what she had too, but she didn't do anything more than that. Birkoff watched everything carefully and watched as Nikita finally pulled her body off of the chair and headed upstairs.

It was while Birkoff listened to the drawers opening and closing that Birkoff made the decision. He needed to get Maralah out of the house for a while, to do something special for her to undo any damage that Nikita's mood was doing to her. Distraction was the best way to do so. Birkoff had Maralah cleaning up her toys while he went upstairs to tell Nikita his news.

Nikita was pacing back and forth in the bathroom when Birkoff rounded the corner. She dropped the towel and the washcloth onto the floor and turned. She saw Birkoff and drew her hands towards her chest. She was in a heavy flannel nightgown. Birkoff couldn't see anything, but she pulled away as if she was exposed.

"I'm going to go out with Maralah... We'll be gone for several hours. Do you want us to bring you something back to eat?" Birkoff questioned, deciding that it was best just to give Nikita the information. She didn't need to know the motives behind his behavior. Birkoff was sure that Nikita realized them on some level.

"You would think they could have gotten us a bigger bathroom... This tub... is so small," Nikita stated as she reached over and turned the water on. Birkoff nodded his head and Nikita looked up at him. "Go."

"Do you want your cell in here with you?" Birkoff questioned as he lifted the cell phone up. He did know that when he did go anywhere with Maralah by himself, Nikita would carry that phone everywhere. Nikita nodded her head and slipped it into the pocket of her nightgown and smiled at Birkoff.

"Have fun," Nikita stated, but it was clear that Nikita didn't really care what they did. As long as her daughter was happy and healthy. Birkoff stepped out of the bathroom and closed the door.

Nikita settled on top of the toilet seat, looking down at the water as it started to fill the tub slowly. Nikita turned and poured some bubbles on it. She felt dirty. It was a feeling that wouldn't pass although she had tried over and over for it to pass. Baths were one way to try to get rid of it. Her heart wanted to just talk to Michael. That would get rid of the feeling, but Nikita couldn't.

The bubbles were too happy and Nikita turned her head as the steam from the scolding hot water swirled up in the air of the bathroom. It was too tiny for Nikita's liking. It reminded her one that she had when she was a little kid. Of course, in that particular apartment, the bathroom was the best room in the entire building.

Nikita turned her head to the side as she saw the tub slowly filling. There was no water pressure in this entire house, something that if Nikita were feeling better, would have fought with Madeline about. The shower, when it was run, felt like a drizzle. But at least the water got hot.

Real hot.

The steam was hiding her body, just like she wanted it too. How Nikita wished to disappear from everything right now. She pulled her panties off and dropped them to the floor. She slowly stood and placed the cell phone on the dish that was meant for the bar of soap. Nikita pulled off her nightgown and turned.

Then she froze as she saw her face, coming out of the steam of the water, and into focus in the mirror. It was her face, but it wasn't her face. Her eyes were dead and flat. Nothing there. Nikita felt her nightgown drop out of her fingers as she stared at that image in the mirror.

Did she even want to be found?

Nikita tried to swallow as she looked at her face. She used to look so young. She didn't appear that way anymore. The image was scattering and blurring. Nikita trembled as her eyes drifted down her neck in the image and to her chest.

Areas that Ryce had been.

She tilted forward and allowed a moan out. A break in the armor that was doing no good for Nikita. Nikita rubbed her fingers across her face and moaned again as she realize that she didn't want to be that person in the mirror, but Nikita didn't know how to get away from her.

What Ryce Borjas did to her, Nikita could have gotten over easily. But it was the memories that Nikita had carefully stored away, that Nikita couldn't hide from any longer. They started to twist with what Ryce did to her and slowly, the images in her sleep had Ryce being the man that abused her years and years ago. All of it was ugly. All of it where things that Nikita never discussed with anyone else.

The closest person to know that side of her, to know those details was Michael.

But now, Nikita was scared as she looked at the image in the mirror. It was melting away before her eyes, liker her soul. The world and the reality that she lived in was trying to eat her alive and she hadn't even tried to fight. Nikita was never one to give up. Nikita was never one to ask for help.

For some reason, Nikita pulled her cell phone up and dialed the three-digit number and held her breath, staring at the ghost of herself in the mirror. It scared her, and Nikita didn't even know if she could say the words, but now she knew.

She needed help.

"Hello?" Michael answered the phone as he walked out of his office. There was a mission about to brief that he was supposed to run. He had been waiting for Walter to call him back about some of the weapons that were needed that were currently checked out. That was what Michael expected.

"Michael," Nikita whispered as she started to teeter on her feet. This image seemed to be growing sicker the longer that she stared at it. Forgotten was the bath. What was the focus now were that image and that phone.

Her eyes were dead and Nikita was scared that she too, was dead.

"Nikita? What is it?" Michael questioned as he stopped his forward movement. He listened to the noise behind Nikita's voice and noticed the running water. He was confused and worried.

"Michael..." Nikita stated again, just saying it so she knew that she was right.

"Nikita? Is there something that you need?" Michael questioned as he looked up and down the hallways. He really didn't care if someone saw him having this conversation, but Michael would like to see how much he could control of it.

"I can't ask for it, Michael... I can't," Nikita stated slowly as she reached her other hand up to the mirror. Nikita jumped and leaned against the wall as her hand felt the ice cold mirror. The rest of the room was so warm, but touching the cold glass of the mirror started to chill Nikita's body.

"What do you need, Nikita? I can help," Michael stated carefully. He turned and started to walk away from the briefing room, heading towards the exit. Nikita didn't need to ask as Michael started to move, but Michael also understood how important it was for Nikita to step over this first hurdle. Now there was another hurdle. She needed to ask for the help.

"Michael," Nikita stated again and Michael felt his heart stop. She was fixated on his name. It was holding her together and each time that she said it, the word sounded more desperate. Michael couldn't pause in going, but he also had a mission briefing.

Davenport was walking down the hallway and Michael dropped the phone slightly. He didn't want to ignore Nikita, but he needed Davenport to do just what Michael wanted him too.

"Davenport... I need you to take over my mission... The information.. Walter has it," Michael stated and Davenport stopped and stared at Michael.

"Michael..." Nikita stated again as she found herself pressing herself against the wall, trying to get away from the image that her eyes would let her look away from. At least from the distance it was starting to blur, but not much.

Nikita's plead echoed out of the phone and Davenport looked at Michael. He was going to ask why. Michael had already stated that he owed Davenport for killing Ryce. Now, with just hearing Nikita over the line, Davenport knew why and blindly nodded his head up and down. Neither man waited for the necessities to be exchanged and headed towards their destinations. Michael didn't need to thank Davenport as the man knew that Nikita was a good woman.

"Nikita... please just tell me what you need..." Michael stated out as he held the phone to his ear again. He could tell that she was crying and Michael closed his eyes briefly. This was too much pain for anyone to have to go through, yet alone, Nikita.

"Michael..." Nikita's voice broke out in a sob as her naked body started to slide down the wall. Her legs no longer had the strength to hold her body up. She was falling slowly and against the wall. The pain was building heavier and heavier on her shoulders. The pain was throbbing in her head and her eyes couldn't lose the image of herself in the mirror.

All she saw was herself as a monster.

She didn't want to be one.

"Michael... I need you!" Nikita shouted, but in that moment slammed the phone closed and tossed it to the side. She couldn't hold herself together as the sobs loudly came as she curled herself up on the cold floor of the bathroom, pressing herself against the wall.

The phone landed in the bathtub as it continued to fill with water.

And Michael.... He ran.

~~

The door was locked when Michael arrived, but that provided no challenge to Michael. Michael pealed off his jacket and dropped it on the banister to the stairs as he continued to hear the running water.

"Nikita!" Michael bellowed out as he walked up the stairs two at a time. When there was no response, Michael realized that things were bad. He hurried down the hallway and pushed his weight against the bathroom door. He looked to the wet floor as the water flowed over the lip of the tub and then jumped.

There was Nikita curled up into a mass on the floor, naked. Michael reached over to turn the water off and to pull the plug. He pulled his dripping hand out of water and looked at Nikita.

"Nikita... Please look at me," Michael stated as he looked at her. She lifted her head to look at Michael and then in shame dropped her head.

"Please go," Nikita hissed and Michael shook his head back and forth. He placed his hands on Nikita's shoulders and noted that she did not flinch away. Michael ran his fingers against her neck for a while, willing her to look at him again.

But she didn't.

Michael stood up and turned to the towel that was on the floor. It was soaked. Michael turned and walked out of the bathroom to find something the help with the good half-inch of water on the floor. Michael noted that some of it started to run into the hallway as he moved to the first set of drawers in the hallway and pulled out some towels. He started to drop them down and realized that he had nothing to put Nikita in.

"Nikita... I'm here... I will be right back... I'm not leaving," Michael stated as he looked at the crying Nikita on the floor. She was started to shake back and forth. He wanted to get her out of the cool and drafty bathroom, but knew that he had to put something over her naked body.

Michael dashed down the stairs far enough to pull his long black trench coat off of the banister. Michael started back up the stairs as quickly as he went down them. He entered the bathroom and took Nikita in his arms and draped his coat around Nikita's body.

"Michael..." Nikita sobbed out, as she gave in to his ministrations. Michael kissed her forehead and moved out of the bathroom.

There would be plenty to do. He needed to talk to Nikita, but right now, she needed to sleep. Michael would have to get in touch with Birkoff and redirect him elsewhere for the night. He settled Nikita on the bed as she lifted her head up to Michael.

"It's too much, Michael... you'll see me..." Nikita stated as the tears continued to flow out of her eyes. Michael was concerned with her voice. She sounded like she had given up complete hope and that was something that Michael could not and would not accept.

"See what, Nikita?" Michael questioned and Nikita rolled to her side and struggled up. Michael knew it was her stubborn nature. Nikita was so down on herself right now that she was determined to make Michael her as bad as she thought she was. And right now. Sleep could bring a different perspective to Nikita and she didn't want to wait.

"The monster that I am..." Nikita revealed in short words, but she began to cry. She didn't believe those words and neither did Michael. He stroked her face softly and shook his head back and forth.

"This is a bad time, Nikita... that's all. You are a good and kind woman," Michael tried to get Nikita to realize. Instead, she covered herself tightly with Michael's jacket.

"When he touched me... when his men touched me... when his lips touched.... It only told me that I turned out exactly to be what my mother told me I was going to be," Nikita hissed out. It was the first key that Michael needed. He saw how twisted things were getting in Nikita's mind and his heart pounded. He had to fix all of this. He had too.

Ryce wasn't going to take Michael's Nikita way from Michael.

"Nikita... Ryce was bad... your mother is bad... You are good," Michael confirmed, trying to do something to break the good things to Nikita's knowledge.

"I'm not... I couldn't get him off of me... I'm an operative... I should have never been in that position Michael! I'm going to hurt Maralah... because I am my mother," Nikita cried out as she pulled a pillow and placed it over her face. She pressed it harshly as if she was attempting to smother herself.

And that was what she was trying to do.

Michael grabbed it and started to pull. They battled until Nikita let go. She just gave up.

"I feel like someone has broken my soul, Michael!" Nikita screamed as she pounded her fists against Michael's chest. Michael kissed her forehead softly and swallowed. If that was a way that she felt right now, he couldn't deny that. There was only one thing he could do.

"Then I am going to fix it," Michael issued out as he wrapped his arms around Nikita, crying with her. But they both knew that Michael meant it.

*

Maralah loved this large playground she found herself in. She loved the sand most of all. She could stay in the sandbox all day and never complain. She loved the feeling of the sand in her fingertips and toes. She loved how the sand just drifted out of her hands and filled the bucket.

For a girl who wasn't even two yet, this was heaven.

Nikita sat off on a bench, watching her daughter. Michael was by her side, rubbing her hand lightly and just enjoying the sight of their daughter. Michael had found the place a couple days ago and urged Nikita to bring Maralah there to play on this day. Michael hadn't seen his daughter since he left Nikita a week ago, in much better shape than he had found Nikita in.

But the jacket was now Nikita's.

Michael glanced at Nikita and didn't know where to start. It was so difficult being so intimate with Nikita about what happened and what was plaguing her mind, and then being separated. Michael didn't know how Nikita was strong enough to live like this; it was driving Michael slowly crazy.

"She really likes that sand," Michael commented. He knew that it sounded corny, but nothing was as bad as sitting there next to the woman that he loved and saying nothing. The words brought a smile on Nikita's face as she looked at Michael.

"Yeah... she always likes that sand," Nikita commented and Michael nodded his head in agreement. And then there was that uncomfortable pregnant pause of silence. "Where did you find this place?"

"In the phone book," Michael stated and Nikita turned and nodded her head. She didn't know why she didn't think of that. It wasn't like it was never heard of. It was a beautiful building with a beautiful park. It was created to be like the climate that Nikita left after the mission. Maralah had yet to like snow and Nikita could not blame her.

"Nikita..." Michael whispered as he turned and touched her arm softly. Nikita looked at Michael and smiled. It was a careful smile. Michael dropped his head and looked to Maralah for a moment. She was pouring sand over her head. It should have made Michael laugh, but now that was not where his mind was.

"What Michael?" Nikita questioned and Michael stroked her cheek softly. Nikita responded with a smile. From all reports from Birkoff, Nikita was so much better in just this week alone. Michael could hardly believe the words, but Michael then knew Nikita. He wondered how much of this was real.

"How are you?" Michael questioned and Nikita looked away from a second and then laughed.

"For a moment I thought you were going to say that you loved me... now that," Nikita kid as she turned and looked at Michael. But her eyes told another story. She was disappointed that Michael hadn't said those words.

"I only ask that question because I do love you, Nikita," Michael stated as he kissed Nikita's nose carefully. He pulled back and blinked his eyes as Nikita smiled towards him. It was almost infectious but Michael vigilantly studied Nikita and the smile faded fast.

"I'm fine, Michael. You know... getting pass those dreams did me a lot of good," Nikita commented and Michael nodded his head. Nikita spoke about everything that had been connected to Ryce Borjas, and the dreams that he had suddenly appeared in that were based in her childhood. But that was all that Nikita had spoken about. There was more and Michael realized that.

"And I went on a few missions this week," Nikita informed Michael, although Nikita knew that she didn't have to mention them. Michael was there when she departed on them and then arrived back. He read the reports and he listened into the communications.

"I know, Nikita..." Michael stated as he paused to kiss Nikita. He looked at her hand knew that the sadness in his heart had to be addressed. He still saw it in Nikita's eyes. She started to tell him everything that night, but backed down once she finished with those dreams. "But you can't run from the past, Nikita... Face it now... and it will wash away sooner..." Michael urged Nikita.

"I don't think things like that go away, Michael," Nikita whispered as her eyes blinked with tears behind them. Michael was so close and Nikita sat forward some.

"Will you just look at our daughter!" Nikita exclaimed, trying to change the subject. Maralah was using the shove to create a hole for her to sit in. It was cute, but Michael rubbed Nikita's shoulders. "Isn't she the cutest thing you have ever seen?"

"Nikita... please don't change the subject... We were so close to going through it all last week... Don't take steps backwards," Michael urged Nikita and Nikita turned to look at Michael. The tears had now deposited themselves on Nikita's cheeks. She blinked her eyes and ran her hands on her lap.

"It does no good to go through this, Michael," Nikita stated out bitterly and dropped her head. It was a signal that Nikita did not believe her own words. Michael stroked her back softly and looked at Nikita.

"Nikita... you are holding onto this... what good does this do?" Michael questioned, knowing that he couldn't push her to do all of this by herself if she didn't openingly decide to do this herself. Nikita looked to Maralah and swallowed.

"Are you suggesting that this is what is best for Maralah?" Nikita questioned and Michael looked at Nikita. He lifted his fingers to her eyes, lifting the tears from her face as he shook his head back and forth.

"No... it is what is best for you... And once it is all over... you will be the best for everyone," Michael stated and Nikita leaned her head down on Michael's shoulder. He felt her shuddering. He knew that she was crying as she determined what she needed to do. And she was looking at her daughter.

"Michael... it is a part of me... that is... disgusting... repulsive..." Nikita stated in slow words as the tears continued to roll down her face. Michael shook his head back and forth.

"It is the memories that are disgusting and repulsive... Not you," Michael affirmed as he turned Nikita's chin up to look at him. He needed to see her eyes. She had to know this fact from this moment on. Thinking that she was disgusting and repulsive was unacceptable.

"But they are a part of me..." Nikita stated as she tried to explain to Michael how she saw these things tied to her. Nikita couldn't see Michael's point, that once she made them into what they were, memories and awful things, they couldn't be a part of her anymore. That they would slowly go away.

"They are just pages in a bad book that need to be torn out, Nikita..." Michael stated and Nikita nodded her head. She pushed at her hair and checked on her daughter. Nikita was worried that Maralah would stop her words now, but the girl was born to be in the sand. She was now covering her legs up with the sand.

"You know... it wasn't only the men that my mother allowed... that hurt me," Nikita stated as she started where she left off. This was the stuff that was probably more painful than the other stuff. Nikita covered her mouth and then looked at Michael. He was there for her. He was going to be there for her.

"I started high school... and things were going bad..." Nikita stated as she closed her eyes. She could remember that first day that she arrived in the hand me down clothes and smelling freshly screwed. There was nothing Nikita could have done.

"I didn't know you went to high school..." Michael commented. He was surprised by this, but not entirely shocked. When Nikita came into Section One, she had the reading level of a third grader and not much else. Michael taught her most of what she does know.

"Yeah... the teachers never wanted to deal with me... they just passed me on so they didn't see me," Nikita commented as she turned her head to the side. And whenever there was a teacher that was ready to help Nikita, to step in and take her away from her mother, Nikita's mother would move with Nikita.

"See.. by the time I got to high school... the men that were with me at night had sons that I went to school with... And they knew all about what their fathers did to me... and felt that I should do the same thing..." Nikita stated as she trembled.

On her first day it started.

"In a matter of two weeks I was the locker room slut... I could fight off one boy... and they all knew it... so there would be two, three, four... a whole team..." Nikita stated as she closed her eyes and leaned her head down on Michael's shoulder. Michael threaded his fingers through Nikita's hair, trying to sooth her, but knowing that this was for the best.

"Then... they started to follow me home... and my mother... felt that it was time for me to be just like her..." Nikita stated with hate in each word. Michael sighed as Nikita sat up.

"I ran away..." Nikita stated in a firm voice and Michael smiled. The streets weren't all the better for Nikita, but they were better.

"That must have been hard," Michael commented as he looked at his daughter, keeping an eye on her while he tended to the mother.

"It was hard... but I stayed away for two months... and then the police found me under a bridge one night..." Nikita stated as she drew her legs up and underneath her body, shrinking. Michael realized that the story might have just started again.

"They said they were going to take me to a shelter... but they pulled a file on me... and they stopped the car before they got me there..." Nikita stated and Michael shook his head. This was not fair. The police were supposed to help people and children who were abused and run away. They weren't supposed to continue on with their pain.

"After they finished with me... they took me back to my mother..." Nikita stated out as she shook her head back and forth. Nikita found it difficult to swallow.

When she had arrived back to her mother's apartment that was when Nikita's punishment started. It was sick and demented. Nikita's mother showed that all Nikita ever was a source of an extra income.

"When I got back... the men started back with me... Before that time... my mother had me on the pill and I was scared... since I had been off... and then she would introduce every new man to me as my father... It took me three weeks to run away... And I never looked back," Nikita stated in rough words. Michael closed his eyes and held Nikita as she rocked back and forth.

"Sometimes... I would be recognized on the streets by one of the men... It was only one and I could get away.... but when I went to sleep at night.. in boxes or a falling down building... I never knew if they would find me and take me back..." Nikita stated and she looked up at Michael. He kissed her forehead.

"You are safe with us, Nikita... Those men aren't going to find you..." Michael stated, knowing that Nikita needed to hear that right now. Nikita nodded her head and looked to her hands.

"And if they did you trained me about a thousand ways to kill them," Nikita admitted with a wryly smile spreading across her tear drenched face. Michael nodded his head sadly. It was difficult to hear all of it and Michael could hear that every word was painful for Nikita, but it was going to be better. It was going to get better now.

They sat there for a long time, holding each other. Michael's love building Nikita back up, but building her into a new Nikita. Those chains that held her back into her childhood had slipped away with those words. Revealing herself freed Nikita from the constant pain.

"We have a mission in a few days," Michael commented as he dropped his hands to Nikita's arms. His fingers lightly graced the bare skin of her forearms and waited for a response. All of this mattered to the mission and Michael could not chance anything making Nikita look inadequate. He needed Nikita to get that level four status not just for her benefit, but for his benefit too.

"I know," Nikita stated in a calm voice. Michael looked at her eyes and smiled. His Nikita was there.

"Are you going to be ok with it?" Michael questioned, knowing that Nikita had seen the profile for it. Nikita nodded her head and leaned against Michael some more. She closed here yes and looked up at Michael from the comfortable position on his shoulder.

"If it is you," Nikita stated. It was a blessing and it was a warning. But Michael already knew that the mission would not go forward if he weren't in the mission. It was that simple.

And no one was going to argue with Michael.

"Mama! LOOK!" Maralah called out as she had finally succeeded in covering her legs entirely with the sand. Nikita stood up and walked towards the sandbox. Nikita was wiping the tears off her face as she bent down.

"Oh no, the sand swallowed you up!" Nikita exclaimed and Maralah lifted her hands up for her mother. Nikita looked at the sand covered hands and cringed.

"YOU SILLY!" Maralah exclaimed and Nikita smiled as she looked at her daughter and then to Michael who was right behind her.

"I don't think I should get her out. What do you think, Michael?" Nikita questioned and Michael looked to Maralah as her hair, just like her father's, but straight, looked at him. Michael smiled and looked to Nikita.

"I think we should just go to Pizza Hut without her," Michael stated and Nikita nodded her head. Maralah opened her eyes and her mouth parted.

"NO! TAKE ME!" Maralah yelled and Michael winked at Nikita. He bent down and pulled the girl up, having the sand fly in all directions. Nikita shrieked and looked at the sand that covered her body.

"I'll clean you up later," Michael winked to Nikita as he held his daughter of his shoulder and went to clean her up at the nearest bathroom.

Nikita smiled at the image and swallowed. She was sure that it would take years for the sand to come out of Maralah.

*

"Oopps... sugar, I didn't mean to just come in!" Walter stated as he opened the door and started to close it. Nikita tossed her head over her shoulder as she lightly laughed. Nikita pulled the white t-shirt over her body and turned to face Walter. In fact, Nikita had to yank the door open to look at Walter.

"Walter... You have seen me in a sports bra before... Don't act like a virgin teenager," Nikita scolded and Walter opened his mouth and flapped it a bit. He was surprised with the snappy comeback from Nikita. It had been some time since he had to deal with Nikita's mouth.

"I think someone has been hanging out with Mick again," Walter stated back and Nikita smirked. That was a name that she hadn't heard uttered in ages. Nikita turned her head and looked at Walter.

"What has happened to Mick?" Nikita questioned and Walter rolled his eyes. He knew that Nikita was just going to love this one. Walter didn't know who set Mick up on this heaven job, but Walter was sure that Michael had something to do with it.

"He is running a strip club and a porn shop on the strip... You should go visit him someday... I know he is waiting to make you the headliner!" Walter joked out and Nikita opened her mouth and started to laugh. It was the perfect job for Mick. He probably had an endless supply of girls now. Hopefully he kept enough protection so he didn't bother the neighbors with that need any longer.

"Free from Section?" Nikita questioned and Walter rolled his eyes. This was the Nikita of a long time ago and he was so pleased to have her back. Yes, she was a mother, but that shouldn't make her a nun. His Nikita liked to joke, but was also naively hopeful.

"Nah, sugar... but he only handles some intel with us about every four months... the one time we used his club to set up a guy... Nothing big and major... Must be glad to get rid of that neighbor!" Walter joked and Nikita forced out a smile. She would never admit it, but she kind of missed Mick.

Maybe someday she would have to visit him.

"Come on sugar... I got to get you the units for tonight... What are you and Michael doing exactly?" Walter questioned as he opened the door and motioned Nikita to walk with him. Nikita smiled as she moved with Walter. She was almost tempted to spin in the hallway. Nikita couldn't remember a time that she felt like this.

"We are going to a ball... and then to a hotel..." Nikita stated and Walter rolled his eyes. He should have guessed.

"So you got to get all dressed up..." Walter stated and Nikita smiled and nodded her head.

"Dressed up like a princess.... I think I am wearing red," Nikita responded and Walter looked around and wrapped an arm around Nikita's shoulders.

"It's a shame you are going to go through all of this preparation to only strip down to the buff... oh to be a fly in that room!" Walter joked and Nikita turned and slapped him softly on the arm.

It was special times like this that Nikita was sure that she would remember forever.

"Awh, sugar... you know that I'm just kidding you..." Walter stated and Nikita looked over her shoulder at Walter. Nikita smiled and laughed, knowing that Walter was stating the absolute truth.

"Sure, Walter.... but of course... I need the nude color communication unit and weapons..." Nikita stated as she turned and hurried down the hallway, before Walter could grab a hold around Nikita again. Nikita stopped and leaned against the wall for Walter to make it to his precious weapons.

"Walter?" Nikita questioned as she stepped into the area after Walter. He was moving about the equipment and Nikita leaned her hands down on the table. She looked at Walter and sighed once more. "Walter?"

"Yeah, sugar?" Walter questioned and Nikita smiled at the bewildered look on Walter's face.

"Did you get a chance to run that shell I gave you way back when?" Nikita questioned and Walter stared at Nikita. It was clear that he had totally forgotten what Nikita was talking about. He turned and then snapped his fingers as he turned to face Nikita again.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about that," Walter stated and Nikita nodded her head, waiting for what Walter found out. Walter reached over and pulled it out.

"Are you sure you got it from that building?" Walter questioned and Nikita nodded her head.

"I remember the details of that mission, Walter. I definitely got it from that building. Why?" Nikita questioned, instantly knowing that something was going on. She knew that back when, but just had too much emotional stuff going on to follow through on it.

"It is a signature bullet... and they have such an interesting history..." Walter drawled out as he sat down on his stool. Nikita raised an eyebrow before standing back up to her full height.

"Don't give me the entire history... give me the condensed version," Nikita snapped and Walter rolled his eyes. He was going to comment that Nikita was taking away all of his fun, but he didn't. He rolled the bullet in his fingers.

"Well.. see... I have on file about five hundred patterns to signature bullets... Now, those big outfits like Red Cell, if they exist anymore, and Glass Curtain... they don't use signature bullets... The small factions use them to be able to mark what is theirs," Walter stated and Nikita looked to Walter and looked to her hands.

"Are you saying that it wasn't Red Cell that was coming into the building?" Nikita questioned as she leaned against the table. She didn't know if she liked that possibility.

"No... I know that it was Red Cell.... but it was likely that a small faction did some sort of battle with Red Cell in that building before Ryce started to use it..." Walter stated and Nikita looked to her fingers and then to Walter.

"Do we know who?" Nikita questioned.

"Out of the five hundred and some patterns that I do have.... this is not one of them... This is someone new... trying to make their mark," Walter stated as he handed it over to Nikita. Nikita stared at the metal and then to Walter. Nikita looked around and then shrugged her shoulders.

"What do we do?" Nikita questioned and Walter raised his eyebrows.

"Hell if I know. I've come across tons of signature bullets that have meant absolutely nothing..." Walter stated as he pulled out a large binder and placed it in front of Nikita. It was the patterns that Walter was speaking about. Nikita looked through the pages quickly and then looked at Walter.

"We don't tell anyone?" Nikita questioned and Walter shrugged his shoulders.

"It's one bullet Nikita," Walter stated and Nikita nodded her head. She pushed her hair back and sighed.

"But what if this group found out about Ryce... Or if they found out about Section One?" Nikita questioned and Walter scratched at his neck. It was a good possibility.

"Most groups find out about us... or rumors about us, Nikita..." Walter commented and Nikita sighed. She knew that Walter would be looking out for more of these bullets and knew that she should just trust that. But Nikita worried. Something didn't feel right.

Nikita sighed and leaned down on the counter again, her mind whirling with thoughts about what to do. Nikita did know one thing; she was going to tell Michael. Nikita was sure that Walter understood that also.

"Don't you have a briefing?" Walter questioned and Nikita lifted her head and nodded her head. She had already read the profile, thanks to Michael, and knew what was going to be required. Of course, it was missions like this that she hated going to the briefings.

"Why are you hanging around here? You really want to make Operations mad with you?" Walter demanded with harsh words. Nikita smiled and stood up.

"No... but I am getting sick of his statement at the end of every briefing that is like this..." Nikita stated and Walter carefully arched an eyebrow. Now this is something new. Operations rarely added instructions at the end.

"You are going to tell me, right?" Walter questioned once Nikita was silent for too long. Nikita looked around and stood up straight. She pretended to throw down the pointer.

"Michael... Nikita... for God's sake... use protection!" Nikita stated out in a deep voice and Walter roared out in laughter. That was a funny one.

"I swear Walter... if there weren't other operatives sitting there he would throw the protection down on the table," Nikita stated as she leaned forward. Walter wiped at his eyes. Nikita did that imitation just a bit too good, but Walter wasn't going to tell Nikita that.

"Well, sugar... you know he is worried... I mean, Section One birth control didn't work," Walter stated and Nikita raised an eyebrow. She had no concept of what Walter was talking about.

"Birth control?" Nikita questioned and Walter nodded his head.

"They feed it to us... They know that more operatives are humping their bodies together than they care to keep track of... I guess yours didn't just work," Walter stated and Nikita looked at Walter and turned away. Her mind continued to work that information. She never even thought about Section One feeding them protection, but Michael must have known about it. Nikita looked over her shoulder when she realized that Walter had called her for the fourth time.

"Yeah?" Nikita stuttered out and Walter raised an eyebrow as he looked at Nikita.

"I was asking you about what you were thinking about," Walter stated in a firm voice as he placed the gun on the table. Nikita didn't even have the energy to ask for the flesh colored gun.

"Walter... me and Michael... well... you have to know that we have been together before Maralah was conceived... and we never used protection..." Nikita whispered as she leaned into Walter. Walter blinked his eyes and shook his head.

"Then you were lucky, sugar.... Section One would plan something like that.. It's too risky!" Walter hissed and Nikita didn't move her head. She held Walter's eyes as she shook her head back and forth.

"But look at how much more information we go because I was pregnant... It benefited Section One that I was pregnant..." Nikita stated out and Walter placed his hands on Nikita's shoulders as he shook his head. He couldn't allow this to continue.

"Nah, sugar... Section One wouldn't do this just for a mission either way... I mean... yours and Michael's child... it's dangerous!" Walter stated and Nikita looked down to the table. Nikita looked over her shoulder and then to Walter.

"Who is in charge of this program, Walter?" Nikita questioned and Walter sighed.

"Madeline," Walter stated and Nikita looked around. Something was wrong and Walter could see what Nikita was thinking.

"Don't go there, sugar... You and Michael were lucky..." Walter stated and Nikita rubbed her hands against her legs.

"Or we were set up," Nikita announced as she turned and left for the briefing. Walter threw his hands up in frustration and turned back to his station.

Walter knew Madeline for a long time. Walter understood that Madeline knew the dynamics that Nikita lived in her entire life. Damn, Madeline was probably more nervous about Nikita's pregnancy than Michael.

Then Walter blinked and looked out to the hallway.

Walter dropped his head and swallowed his thoughts. He couldn't think about what Nikita raised. Madeline wouldn't do something like that. She just wouldn't.

*

Michael's eyes were carefully scouting the area that the operatives were casing. They were moving slowly and Michael looked around the horizon. His heart was pounding, but it wasn't about this entire mission. It was about one person and one person alone.

Nikita.

Michael picked up his communications device as his eyes stayed trained on that horizon, looking for anything that was out of synch with the profile. Michael was afraid that Nikita wouldn't be able to pick up on it.

How many missions was it this week?

Even Michael didn't even know the answer to that question. He blamed himself for allowing Nikita to run this mission from the point. He only was coerced into the decision when Nikita started to talk about the next time that Michael would be able to see Maralah.

"Nikita... how many missions this week?" Michael questioned, knowing that they had a secure channel. It wasn't that Michael doubted Nikita's abilities. She had been running missions all week. But it was just endurance and how much Nikita could take. It took Michael many months of slowly building up to run the amount of missions that Nikita suddenly had.

And then, because of the missions, Nikita hasn't seen much of her daughter. Michael didn't know if that was right either.

"Eight," Nikita stated as Michael watched the operatives. They were following her hand signals and Michael nodded his head. They didn't know about how many missions Nikita had done this week. They didn't know how worried Nikita was.

"What country are we in?" Michael questioned and he heard Nikita sigh on the other end of the connection.

"Turkey," Nikita responded and Michael opened his eyes. Nikita was right on the target.

"And before you ask, the target is another Red Cell computer that is stationed inside this building, on the third floor with four guards," Nikita stated quickly. Michael swallowed. Maybe he was overreacting