"Switching to open channel," Nikita stated and Michael placed his hand on his ear. He looked over the horizon, trying to figure out why Nikita was going to the open channel.

"Harris, Ford, you are too far west. There is a trench. You need to come closer to the building," Nikita stated and Michael turned his head. There were the two operatives that were moving back towards the building. Nikita had halted the troops and Michael popped back into the van.

"Continue on..." Michael stated and Nikita sighed. Michael opened his eyes as he looked at the scans. There didn't appear to be anything outstanding as wrong. Michael didn't know why they had stopped.

"Nikita?" Michael questioned, knowing that his voice revealed probably more worry than anything.

"We have movement on the second floor," Nikita stated and Michael rolled to the computers. He didn't see any movement. Michael zoomed in and swallowed.

There was movement.

"Birkoff... I need satellites to rescan the area," Michael ordered through the units. He knew that Nikita would hold position. She didn't need to be told.

"Michael... breaking to the west... checking something," Nikita stated and Michael frowned. Nikita wasn't supposed to go off mission profile. It wasn't going to help anyone for her to go off by herself. It sure wasn't going to get her promote any quicker.

"Nikita... halt movement... scanning area," Michael stated and he listened carefully. He heard nothing and he just knew.

Nikita was moving. Michael pulled out the sniper gun and moved outside of the van. He scanned the building, seeing the moving individual on the second floor. Michael pulled the scope down and swallowed.

"We have at least two on the second floor..." Michael stated and he closed his eyes, hoping for Nikita to report in.

There was nothing.

"Nikita?" Michael questioned again and there was nothing but silence. Michael dropped his head and then raised the gun to look for Nikita in the darkness. He scanned the area and saw Nikita on her stomach, above the trench. Michael held is breath as Nikita checked the trench and then dropped into it.

"New entrance... all teams move to the west to the trench," Nikita stated and Michael swallowed. He didn't know what Nikita was planning. He should have been in the field with her. He shouldn't be in the van waiting and watching. He held his breath as the operatives move.

"Nikita... report," Michael snapped immediately, wanting to know the point of entry that she was trying to gain.

"This is an exit for Red Cell... Found footprints, fresh... and gun shells... It leads underneath the building..." Nikita explained in a panting voice, showing that she was running now back towards the building in the trench. Michael shook his head. He couldn't believe Nikita.

"What about the scan?" Nikita questioned and Michael swallowed. He had forgotten about the scan as Nikita deviated from the mission profile.

"We have four armed individuals on the second floor... None on the third... It is possible that the computer has been moved," Birkoff reported in and Michael leaned back against the van. He almost missed being a part of the action on the field.

But Nikita seemed to be doing a great job of it.

Nikita reached the door to the building and waited for the operatives to catch up. Nikita looked down to her pocket and the shell that she had picked up.

Something didn't add up right.

~~

Michael walked on the country road, holding Nikita's hand carefully. They looked the perfect image of the happy couple. At first, Michael had seen the profile and thought of the potential of spending a few days getting into the Sutherland's estate and property.

Michael almost cursed when Nikita went to Madeline to show her a way that mission could be done in one day, in a few hours.

"It's almost too quiet out here," Nikita stated as she picked up a wild flower and twirled it between her fingers. Personally, Nikita knew that Michael was upset at her interference with the profile. However, Nikita never knew if a mission as being placed in front of her as a real mission or as a test to see if she was smart enough. She was doing what she had to do.

"That's because you have always lived in the city, my darling," Michael drawled out as he reached over and grabbed Nikita. He picked her up and swung her around slightly.

"Birkoff... are the weapons on the property?" Nikita questioned as she leaned against Michael's shoulder and started to pull of the petals of the flower.

"Yes," Birkoff reported and Nikita looked to Michael. She kissed him softly and giggled. "Is that from a current scan, Birkoff?"

Michael looked to Nikita and picked her up. He moved towards the fence as his mouth plundered hers, trying to rob all of the treasures that were inside. He ran his hands along Nikita's bare arms and then broke the kiss. Michael looked to Nikita and his eyes told the story. He wanted Nikita to lie off of Birkoff, to cut him some slack, but Nikita placed her hands on her hips and continued down the road.

Stubborn, stubborn, Nikita.

"Just completed five minutes ago," Birkoff snapped the reply once he heard the kiss break. Michael rolled his eyes and dashed towards Nikita, picking her up in his arms once more. It was good to be playful like this. Nikita said it was one of the reasons why she had to change the mission in this way, because Michael was never playful.

The main house was in focus and in the trees, in the forest that surrounded the house, were Section One, waiting for Michael and Nikita to make their entrance. They were the distraction. They were the ones that would kill the targets.

Nikita bounded away from Michael once more. It was all part of the plan to draw attention to them. The guards watching the house had to be having fun watching Michael and Nikita playing as they walked down the street. It didn't matter right now that their car was 'broken' about a half mile down the road. They were the happy couple on a stroll.

Nikita dropped her eyes to the road for a second. It wasn't entirely paved. On the edges, there was a good bit of gravel, but something shiny caught Nikita's eyes. In fact, it was metal. Nikita bent down and grabbed it quickly.

"What did you pick up, Nikita?" Michael called out from behind her, showing that he was pretending to be tired. Nikita giggled and pretended to place the object in her shirt. Instead, the shell went into her pocket for save keeping.

Nikita was getting used to seeing these.

"That's for me to know and you to find out!" Nikita exclaimed as she turned and ran towards the house. Michael darted after her, both hitting the porch as the door opened up.

"Look... I didn't even have to ring the doorbell!" Nikita stated happily as Michael walked up to Nikita. He slung his arm around Nikita and panted for air.

"Is something wrong?" Martha Sutherland questioned, although she knew the answer. Or at least the answer that Section One had created for her to know.

"Wrong? Well.. we are about four hours away from our hotel room and we are newlyweds... and our car is broken down... But.. nah, everything is perfect!" Nikita happily chatted away as her mind swirled with the movements of the mission. The operatives would be wrapping around the side of the house as the guards started to converge on Michael and Nikita.

"Newlyweds? Now that is a problem... I'm glad you didn't stop in one of my fields of a mid-afternoon tryst," Martha stated as she opened the door wide to allow Michael and Nikita in.

"Look at this house, Kita..." Michael exclaimed as he pulled his gun out.

And the mission commenced.

~~

Nikita rubbed the long and baggy gray sweatpants as she walked down the hallways. Michael wanted to take Nikita out for some coffee before she went home, but Nikita stalled Michael for the moment. Nikita looked up and down the hallways as she entered Walter's area and found the man staring at her.

"You look refreshed," Walter commented and Nikita rolled her eyes. Of late, she had been visiting Walter immediately after the mission. But after the run from the farm, Nikita knew that she smelt less than lady-like. Nikita found the shower a blessing.

"You know... the country isn't all that it is made out to be... It smells," Nikita commented as she shrugged her shoulders. Nikita definitely didn't want to make this look anything other than casual. There had been a few times in the past that other operatives had been staring.

"You mean you and Michael didn't steal a horse and try some kinky stuff?" Walter teased as he moved closer to Nikita. He easily picked up on Nikita's style on this day and looked back and forth in his own effort to assess who was watching and who wasn't.

"Sorry to ruin your fantasies, Walter... but the horse won't be until next time we are out on the farm," Nikita joked back as she lifted her hand and reached over to Walter. She dropped the shell into Walter's hand and moved towards his desk.

"Are we safe here to talk?" Nikita questioned and Walter looked around.

"They don't really monitor me anymore, sugar... You should know that... I mean, why now are you being all like super spy?" Walter questioned and Nikita dropped her chin slightly. She thought that Walter would be more than worried at this point.

"Walter... all but one mission... I have found this signature bullet... Something isn't right," Nikita stated and Walter dropped his head as he pulled out the book. He knew this pattern well enough. Walter had already titled it the Nikita pattern.

She was so attuned to the details right now, that Walter believed that Nikita would be the only one to pick up on the bullet shells. It also meant that whomever was leaving them was either sloppy or wanted Nikita to know that they were there.

"I don't know sugar... I even got onto some of the other organization databases... Interpol.. CIA... they haven't seen anything like this pattern either," Walter stated and Nikita rubbed her fingers across her chin. Walter could tell that Nikita was deep in thought about this. In a way, she was deeply disturbed.

"Is it just my mission, Walter? We can't tell... But if it is only my missions... Even if they aren't just my missions... whoever it is seems to be about two steps ahead of us and leaving a breadcrumb trail," Nikita remarked and Walter winced. Nikita appeared to be pretty much on the mark that Walter was thinking along.

"If they were after Section, Nikita... We would know," Walter informed Nikita and Nikita nodded her head. She had no problems believing that one. Every terrorist group out there likes to declare on Section One to prove that they have the ability to win.

"Then who does it belong too? A faction of Section One?" Nikita questioned as she turned and plopped her body up on Walter's table. Walter shook his head. He didn't like Nikita's idea there.

"That doesn't explain the shells, sugar.... They have to make their own signature bullets..." Walter stated and Nikita dropped her head once more. She rolled her head back and swallowed.

"Another anti-terrorist group?" Nikita questioned as she turned her head and looked over her shoulder at Walter. Walter swallowed and felt a shiver go down his spine. Competition for Section One?

"But why? They know we have the resources... We are still the ones taking down the targets.... All we are finding are shells," Walter questioned, trying to find anything to stop that train of thought. Nikita looked to Walter and swung her head back and forth.

This was going nowhere.

"I don't know, Walter..." Nikita almost whined. Walter studied Nikita's long muscles. She was still working out intensely, even with the heavy mission load.

"Maybe we should tell someone else about them.. to see if someone else can find a shell on a mission that you aren't on?" Walter suggested and Nikita hopped off of the table. She didn't like that at all. In fact, it bothered Nikita.

"No... because they'll be looking for a shell when they should be watching out for themselves," Nikita stated as she stopped with her words. The only reason why she found the shells were because they were in her path. They weren't out of place and Nikita looked around and leaned into Walter.

"What if the targets we are talking out aren't the real targets... but decoys for the real targets..." Nikita questioned and Walter raised an eyebrow.

"That's complicated, sugar... No one could pull that off on all the missions.. We couldn't!" Walter explained quickly and Nikita looked around.

"But why else would I find bullets on the exact path that I take on a mission..." Nikita questioned and Walter looked to Nikita.

"Because you don't think like the rest of Section, sugar. For Section... you are way off profile on your missions..." Walter stated and Nikita nodded her head.

"Off profile for Section... But on profile for mystery group," Nikita stated as she closed her eyes. Nikita turned to find Michael walking towards her. Nikita turned and smiled as she wrapped her arms around Michael.

She was happy to leave. Maybe she would have a few days to rest.

*

Michael turned the corner as his cell phone started to ring. He pulled it up and continued to walk down the street. He was looking for a birthday gift for Nikita, something that had long been forgotten. It was one of the many simple things that have been neglected for such a long time, that Michael was trying to reclaim. Michael was just about to pull into a little boutique to look at some antique jewelry when the phone rang.

"Yes?" Michael questioned as he looked around the street, always aware of what was going on and who was watching him. He could never be too aware.

"Michael... I need your help," Birkoff stated and Michael lifted his head. It wasn't a very clear statement of what Birkoff needed. It was hard to believe that Birkoff and Nikita came back four months ago. In less than two months, Maralah would be two.

"Help as in what?" Michael slowly questioned as he stepped back against the building, looking like he was one of the few that were waiting for the bus. Michael looked over his shoulder and pulled the sunglasses off of his face.

"Maralah is sick. Can you come over and help out?" Birkoff questioned and Michael swallowed. His heart started to pound as he heard about his daughter. Then the questions came.

"Where is Nikita?" Michael questioned, although his mind had already made the connection of where Nikita was. More than likely she was where she was all the time.

"On a mission... not due back until tomorrow," Birkoff stated and Michael closed his eyes. Tomorrow was Nikita's birthday. He sure didn't want Nikita out on a mission. Michael even had to wonder if Nikita realized that it was her birthday.

"What is wrong with Maralah? Has she been to a doctor?" Michael questioned as he pushed away from the building. He wasn't far from his apartment and would be at Birkoff's house in a matter of minutes. Michael tried not to panic, but he wanted to make sure that Birkoff was doing what he was supposed to be doing.

"Section doctor saw her... said it was the flu...." Birkoff stated in a worried voice.

"Why do you need my help?" Michael questioned. He knew he would go and make sure that he didn't get pulled onto any missions, but he still had to question. Birkoff at times was a great man to Maralah, but he was too nervous most of the time and unsure of himself.

But a child sick is the worse thing to have. Period. It had to be difficult for Birkoff to work in this situation. It was Michael's and Nikita's child that was sick and he was in charge. He knew what would happen if something happen to Maralah.

"Michael... I can't do this! I begged Nikita not to go out... I knew that Maralah was looking bad..." Birkoff started the spiel and Michael closed his eyes. There was nothing stopping Nikita right now from doing the missions. One after another after another. Downtime wasn't in Nikita's vocabulary any longer.

"Is she running a fever?" Michael questioned as he rounded the corner and pulled out his car keys. Michael knew that Nikita kept enough medical supplies at the house to take care of anything that Maralah may have needed. Nikita was always so good with Maralah when she was sick.

"She wasn't... She just really wants her mother... and there is nothing that I can do..." Birkoff stated and Michael opened the car door. Michael could imagine what Maralah was telling Birkoff. She had just started to say the word hate and it was being used too frequently in Michael's opinion.

"I'll be there.... Don't worry, Birkoff," Michael said as he folded the phone and started the car. Michael pulled out into the traffic and rushed down the road in a hurry.

~~

Michael pushed open the door and looked as Birkoff stood at the stairs, looking down at him. Michael pressed his lips together and pulled off his coat. Michael had to see what was going on first before he made any decisions on how much of his attention was going to be needed.

Michael took the stairs smoothly and turned in the hallway. Maralah was tucked in her bed, but she kicked the sheets off as Birkoff entered the room.

"Maralah... you are going to get cold," Birkoff stated as he moved to the bed, attempting to pull the sheets back up. Michael stood back and observed as his daughter immediately pulled the sheets back off of her and onto the floor.

She was definitely Nikita's daughter.

"Maralah... Please..." Birkoff stated and the young girl narrowed her eyes. She was angry.

"MAMA!" Maralah shrilled and Michael closed his eyes. She was always so loud. Michael entered the room silently, knowing that either person didn't see him. Again, Michael observed as Birkoff and Maralah played the tug-of-war game with the sheets.

Maralah won.

"Hey, Maralah," Michael whispered as he moved to the bed and grabbed the sheets out of Birkoff's hands. Immediately, Michael sat down on the edge of the bed, getting on Maralah's level.

"Mike!" Maralah exclaimed and Michael winced. He didn't intend on Birkoff hearing that one. Michael had always been one to not allow anyone shortening his name, but this wasn't just anyone. This was his daughter.

His sick daughter.

"Hey... I heard you weren't feeling good," Michael stated as he reached out and touched Maralah's arms. Michael felt the warmth there and pressed the back of his hand against her forehead. Michael kissed her forehead and looked back to Birkoff.

"You want to go get the Children's Tylenol," Michael stated to Birkoff. The young man ran off just as Michael ordered, knowing that for Michael to ask for that, that Maralah must have a fever.

Michael picked up the blankets and started to arrange them again.

"Now... I know that you feel hot... but it important that you keep these sheets on you," Michael stated as he pulled a few of the sheets up and tucked them near Maralah's chin, keeping her arms out. He left the heavy comforter off, knowing that it would just cause the girl to throw them off. Once she was comfortable and asleep, Michael would slip it up.

"Ok..." Maralah stated as she looked up at Michael. She liked him a lot. He cared for her so much. Often, Michael reminded Maralah of her mother. "Mama?"

Michael sighed. Often, at least of late, Michael would arrive at the house with Nikita. It was an attempt to make Nikita feel like there was a family, although Section One was trying to make it difficult. It was also an attempt to figure out what was going on Nikita. That hadn't happened yet.

"No, Mara... your mother didn't come with me this time.... She is at work..." Michael stated as he reached out and stroked her black hair off of her forehead. She looked so much like him that right now, it scared Michael. She looked pale and her skin tone almost matched Nikita's except for the two rosy cheeks.

Birkoff entered the room and Maralah dropped her head. Michael lifted his eyes to Birkoff as he grabbed the box out of his hands. Michael had to wonder what Birkoff had said to Maralah. It was hard for Birkoff. He acted as if Maralah was much older and could understand complicated things. She couldn't. She wasn't even two years old, but Birkoff always assumed more.

"I will need some orange juice... You like orange juice right?" Michael questioned, although he knew the answer. It was something that Nikita always had to buy before going home. Nikita even stated that she must go through an entire gallon at day.

But Maralah shook her head as she placed her hands on her stomach.

"Tummy... yuck!" Maralah stated and Michael nodded his head. Birkoff was teetering back and forth, hovering, not sure of what to do next.

"Oh... so your stomach isn't feeling well... I'm going to try to make it better..." Michael stated, although he was going to wait and see with this. If the medical doctors in Section One just sent her home, then they must have thought that the flu would just run its course. Michael couldn't bear to tell Birkoff that this was common with children. Birkoff was a nervous wreck.

"Birkoff... can you get me a glass of lukewarm water?" Michael questioned and the young man scampered off. Michael looked to Maralah and held her hands softly.

"So... is your stomach sick like a dizzy sick... or a jumping sick?" Michael questioned, knowing that his comparisons were vague at best, but knowing that they would do the trick. Maralah shook her head back and forth.

"Tummy... hot yuck..." Maralah stated and Michael nodded his head. Although Michael wasn't quite sure what Maralah meant, Michael caught the drift of it. Michael started to read the box for the Tylenol and opened it up. Michael even moved the bucket closer to the bed, so Maralah could just roll over if needed. Birkoff had placed way too far away.

Michael looked to his daughter and smiled. She was sick, but Michael couldn't help but love these times.

He wouldn't miss this for the world right now.

~~

Nikita hissed as she sat down in the tub. She rolled her eyes.

Thank god she hadn't told Michael this profile.

Walter had poked the living hell out of her for this one. Using her feminine charms to distract a target. Nikita was put in the bathtub.

Now, Nikita found this hard to believe. Section One wasn't able to get close to the target yet, but yet, they knew that he had a fetish for watching women in the bathtub.

And his entire hotel was wired up with the cameras in every bathroom.

Nikita was going to do the profile, but she had another thing planned for everyone. There was no way that she was going to pretend to skinny dip in a tub. She wasn't going to rub herself or any of the other disgusting things that Walter joked about and Madeline suggested.

That wasn't going to happen.

Nikita had started to fill the tub with studs. Nikita knew where the camera was positioned. Most of her skin would only be shown on the camera for a short few seconds.

However, seduction was more than showing off some cleavage and butt. It was about movement and atmosphere. Nikita was sure that Madeline knew this and realized this. Nikita was sure that this was a test.

One that Nikita sure didn't want to take.

Nikita slipped into the tub and turned off the water. Nikita was thankful that her long body actually fit comfortably in the tub. Nikita leaned her head back and picked up the book. There were candles providing her with enough light to read by.

It was a good book. Nikita kicked her legs up in the air, allowing the soapsuds to run down her legs every once in a while. They were long legs. They were wet legs. Hopefully they were gathering the attention while Nikita continued to read.

Nikita sat up in the tub, her chest covered with the bubbles. Nikita tossed her head side-to-side and sighed. Something didn't feel right. Nothing was this easy as sitting in a bathtub, or at least, not this easy for Section One. Nikita swallowed and leaned over to the side of the tub. She wanted to make sure that her gun was hidden, but assessable.

Nikita turned to sink back in the tub when she reached out to the soap rack. Nikita turned her head as her fingers did not touch the soap and did not touch the plastic rack. It touched metal.

Nikita did not need to pull the object out. She knew what it was. It was one of the shells. Nikita swallowed and looked around the room. Nikita looked around the room and then ducked.

The bullets flew around and Nikita looked around the tub as the bullets flew past her head. If it weren't for the shell, Nikita would have been dead. She wanted to thank it, but then she wanted to curse it. The shells were a mystery and Nikita inched her hand over the edge of the tub.

"All teams move... operative cornered..." Nikita heard through the communications unit. At least Section One picked up that something was wrong. Nikita touched the gun with her fingers and flew over the tub, dripping with suds on her body and to the ground. She squeezed off the rounds and watched as the two men dropped over her bed.

There was only one question that Nikita wanted answered.

Who owned these special signature bullets?

~~

"Mike," Maralah called out as Michael entered the room. It was late at night. Maralah should be asleep. Michael inched towards the bed and stroked her hair back.

The fever had gone down and Michael smiled.

"You should be asleep, Mara..." Michael stated as he sat down on the floor next to Maralah. She looked to Michael and sighed.

"Mama reads..." Maralah stated and Michael smiled. Nikita did a lot of things. All things that Maralah all of a sudden wanted to do now that she was sick. Michael was almost worried that Nikita tried to do too much while she was sick.

"I don't have anything to read... and I'm going to go to bed myself..." Michael stated as he leaned up and kissed her head. Michael turned his head and saw Birkoff at the door.

"Here... I got Snow White," Birkoff said as he showed Maralah the book. Michael smiled. Michael felt that this was something that Birkoff could do.

Michael was wrong.

It was around one o'clock that Michael felt the hand on his arm. He opened one eye and then the other eye, looking straight at Maralah. He was sleeping in Nikita's room and immediately sat up and flicked the light on.

"Are you ok?" Michael questioned as he picked the girl up and placed her under the covers with him. Maralah nodded her head as she yawned.

"Story?" Maralah questioned and Michael rolled his eyes. All of a sudden, he regretted allow Birkoff to do the simplest of tasks.

"But I have nothing to read to you," Michael said as he looked at his daughter as she snuggled in closer to Michael. Maralah smiled up at Michael, with a smile that could have only come from Nikita. It was an afterthought about how much Maralah was starting to look more and more like Nikita on the small things.

"Story?" Maralah questioned again. Michael sighed and leaned back as he shifted on the bed, making sure that Maralah was lying down and covered up. Michael had two choices. He could either go find a book, or use one that he remembered from his own childhood.

This was something that Michael never had the chance to do with Adam. Elena took care of the boy and felt that Michael was there to play with Adam when possible. Elena would never have allowed Michael to take care of Adam when he was sick. Michael never read Adam a story. Elena did all of that.

But Michael knew a few stories. He remembered them from a time a long ago. It felt like lifetimes ago, but looking at Maralah, Michael suddenly felt younger.

"Did you hear the story about the little pink rose?" Michael questioned and Maralah shook her head back and forth as she moved her body closer to Michael. Michael smiled as the way she clung to him as Nikita would.

"Well... see the little pink rosebud... she lived in this dark house and wouldn't let anything in... She wouldn't open the windows and wouldn't open the door..." Michael started to say as he ran his fingers across Maralah's arm. She was so amazing and Michael couldn't think of enough words to describe the love he felt for his own daughter.

"And on day.. the rain came... and knocked on the door... sadly asking to come in... And the little rosebud wouldn't let her in..." Michael stated and Maralah blinked her eyes. Michael ran his fingers down her nose and then over her checks. His heart expanded as he sighed silently. To believe that this created was grown inside of Nikita did something to Michael's feelings that he couldn't even describe.

"Well... the rain went away.... and then the sun came to the door of the dark house... and it knocked on the door... asking to come in..." Michael stated as he smiled at his daughter's eyes. They were starting to fall already. "And the little rosebud wouldn't let the sun in..."

Michael shifted slightly and smiled broadly as Maralah didn't even open her eyes. But Michael continued with the story, knowing that this was Nikita's daughter. Nikita would often ask for Michael to talk to her, and closer her eyes like such, appearing to be asleep, only to open her eyes once Michael stopped talking. Michael wanted to make sure that Maralah was asleep.

"And then the next day... the sun and the rain came together... and knocked on the door.... the little rosebud tried to protest, but allowed them in. The sun and the rain rushed in and pulled the rosebud out.... And she found herself in this beautiful garden... And with the sun and the rain... she was the prettiest rose in the entire garden..." Michael finished with slow words, almost lulling himself to sleep. Michael kissed Maralah's head.

"I liked that," Maralah commented and Michael almost laughed. Instead, he chuckled and wrapped his arm closer to his daughter, snuggling her closer to his body, knowing that they both would sleep now.

*

"Damn," Michael hissed and Birkoff looked around the communications hub at headquarters. Birkoff would have preferred to be closer to the site of the mission, but no one would listen to him. Birkoff had just arrived and knew if Michael said that, something was wrong. It was not like Michael to externalize emotions about the missions. They were time for extreme concentration. For Michael to break that focus meant something was wrong.

Very wrong.

"Michael.... give me update," Birkoff ordered as he swung his chair around to stare at the screen. Birkoff knew the complexities of this mission and knew that he would probably soon be silently cursing Madeline and Operations.

"Something isn't right, Birkoff," Nikita responded and Birkoff rolled his eyes. Nikita always said that.

"Nikita... give me what you are seeing..." Birkoff replied coolly, not paying much attention to Nikita's words. There was a brief burst of gunfire and Birkoff blinked his eyes. Nothing had changed on his screen yet. "Michael?"

"I agree with Nikita," Michael calmly stated as he started to move forward, watching the shadows grow longer. He felt like he was pulled out of the world he was in and placed into some other place or time. The building was the same by description, but it felt different.

"Ok... Michael and Nikita... I'll run the scans again..." Birkoff announced, knowing that if he didn't start it that he would be ordered to do so soon enough. "Can I have your locations?"

"Quadrant 2-D," Michael replied as he pushed against the wall. Someone was walking towards him. Michael motioned for the rest of the operatives, three of them, to fall behind him also. They all moved closer to Michael and deeply into the shadows.

It felt as if Michael had led his team into a funhouse and he started to sweat with worry. Not worry about his well being and possible success of this mission. He worried about the other part of this building, where he had allowed Nikita to lead three operatives herself.

"Ok, Michael... And you have three operatives with you... There are two guards walking towards you... No weapons," Birkoff stated and Michael nodded his head. He looked to his operatives and they moved about the shadows, reading to disable the guards and move on.

"Nikita?" Birkoff questioned again as he looked to his computer screen. There was no answer.

"Nikita? Report," Michael snapped in annoyance. There was nothing and Michael swallowed. He hadn't heard any gunfire but Michael's mind started to assume the worse.

What about Maralah? What would she do without her mother? Would she ever learn who her real father was? How upset would she be? How could Michael look at his daughter again?

"Birkoff... are you reading her signal anywhere?" Michael questioned as he watched the first guard to drop to the floor. The second guard was providing a struggle. Michael should have gone forward and help the operatives, but Michael stayed back. He had to find out about Nikita.

"Michael... how was the weather?" Birkoff questioned as he frowned at the screen. The images were starting to fade and Birkoff slammed his hand down on the desk. He waited and didn't hear anything back from Michael.

"Stan... I need weather reports for a five hundred mile radius of Michael's mission... Now," Birkoff ordered as he barely glanced over his shoulder. While Birkoff looked back to his computer, he noticed that there were three sets of eyes on him. Walter, Madeline, and Operations. The only eyes that turned away were Operations. Madeline started to move towards Birkoff and Walter hugged Maralah.

Maralah rarely stayed inside of Section One during a mission, even if Michael, Nikita, and Birkoff were working it. It was just believed that she would be better away from Section One, usually with a nanny of some sort. But since she had just gotten over being sick, and the mission just happened, Walter was left with the duties for the time being.

"It was cloudy, Birkoff," Michael replied as he stepped away from the second guard. He would discuss this failure with his operatives later. It was not like them to be so careless. Of course, he did give Nikita his stronger operatives and took the weaker ones himself.

"Ok, Michael..." Birkoff replied as he punched a few buttons on the computer. "Nikita... I need your location," Birkoff tried again.

There was silence and Michael stared into the dark shadows. He should be moving his operatives ahead, but without coordination with the team of operatives that Nikita was directing, there would be no chance. Michael inched forward and then felt the metal on his nose. Michael leaned his head back.

"What is going on!" Birkoff hollered, as he didn't hear anything for a long time. He sat there, staring at the screen, feeling as if the rest of the world had frozen and he continued on.

"Birkoff, the weather is cloudy, but no storm activity," Stan replied from his computer. Birkoff frowned.

Michael swallowed as Nikita dropped the gun away from his face and looked at his operatives. She touched Michael's shoulder briefly to say that she was sorry.

"My communications unit is down... I'm not hearing anything... I heard your location and it went dead..." Nikita reported and Michael nodded. He wanted to sigh in relief but knew that the operatives would notice it. He did not need that to complicate matters right now. Michael leaned against the wall and fished his hand into the pocket. He had one unit just in case. Not because he was supposed to have it, but because he knew he should carry it.

"Birkoff? Are you receiving me?" Nikita questioned as she stepped away from Michael and adjusted the piece. She disappeared into the darkness and Michael swallowed.

He didn't think he had trained her that well.

"Yes, I do... What are you doing near Michael? You need to be in Quadrant 6-D," Birkoff demanded and swallowed as he lifted his head. Now Madeline was watching over the computer console and listening to his every word.

"Needed alternate communications unit... Mine went down... Proceeding to Quadrant 6-C... My team is in position there," Nikita announced as she looked carefully around and started to walk across the pipe, that was two stories up from the floor.

It was a long way down.

"I'm moving," Michael snapped to ready as he heard Nikita's plans. He needed to be almost parallel with Nikita's team to take down this computer system. It was going to be difficult.

"Stan.... Triangulate with the signals we are getting... I'm getting another set of frequencies that I can't pick up," Birkoff ordered as he glanced at Stan. The other computer expert nodded his head and set to work on Birkoff's orders. Madeline leaned down and looked at Birkoff.

"What's going on?" Madeline questioned and Birkoff pressed his lips together. Michael and Nikita from the beginning said that something was going wrong with this mission. Birkoff didn't mention it really to anyone. Now, there was something wrong.

"Just miscellaneous frequencies, Madeline... I'm just having them checked just in case... Probably some kids trying to make their own radio station," Birkoff replied and Madeline nodded her head. Birkoff could tell that Madeline did not believe his words.

~~

It was while Nikita was approaching Quadrant 6-B that things went from bad to terrible. Suddenly, there were swarms of other people, shooting at them. Nikita listened off in the distance and heard that the same thing was happening to Michael's team.

"Michael... there is too many..." Nikita commented as she squatted before rolling around the ground, trying to get rid of them.

"Where did they come from?" Michael questioned and Nikita shook her head. She looked over at her operatives. Her team was making some progress.

"I have an operative down!" Michael's voice revealed and Nikita winced. That didn't sound good. Nikita watched as an operative of hers went down the stairs and Nikita swallowed.

"I've been tagged in the arm!" Michael announced and Nikita started to move out of her quadrant. Now it was a battle to stay alive. Nikita was on the above floor, walking towards Michael, knowing that one of her operatives had slid down a floor, trying to get behind the many men that were firing on them. Nikita moved quickly, but could not shot the guard. Nikita pressed against the wall and turned.

There was Michael, waving his team back. Nikita stared at Michael. He pulled out his second gun and handed it to Nikita. He pressed at his sleeve slightly and looked over towards her side.

"Abort mission..." Michael ordered and Nikita nodded her head. With Michael's team pulling out, her team had no possible way of completing the mission. Michael nodded to Nikita, knowing that she was going to go back to her team and help them out.

"Team B... keep location..." Nikita ordered as she turned from Michael, trying not to wonder about how bad the wound was Michael took. It didn't appear to be bleeding too badly, but it was always difficult to see blood on field blacks.

Nikita moved smoothly and winced as she looked down below. There were now others down there after her operative. Nikita wasn't going to have her team lose anyone.

"Tun.... I'm coming down the stairs to cover you... make the run..." Nikita ordered as she reached the stairs. She looked over to the corner that Tun was in and got the visual confirmation.

"Nikita! ABORT!" Michael hissed and Nikita turned her head and started down the stairs, dashing down and ducking as the bullets flew everywhere. Nikita held her breath as Tun made the run, getting shot in the calf, but not stopping.

Nikita stopped abruptly on the stairs and felt her right ankle do more than twist. Nikita couldn't groan in pain. She was ready to retreat when she saw it.

The signature bullet. It was still hot.

The people firing on them were the people that had the special bullets. Nikita wanted to curse and swear as she pocketed the bullet and hurried up the stairs, even with an ankle that Nikita fully well knew was more than broken.

She turned and sprinted away, bringing up the rare out of the building and then assisting with Tun.

No one knew that she was hurt.

~~

Nikita stepped out into the hallways of Section One next to Michael. She appeared to be dragging a little bit, but with a bad mission, it was not a surprise. Nikita looked around. She had to talk with Walter and tend to her ankle later.

At home.

From the time that Nikita knew it was hurt to the time that she got on the van, she convinced herself that it was sprain, although her mind knew it wasn't. Nikita couldn't accept it to be anything more than a sprain. She had more missions to complete. She didn't need anything holding her back from getting Level Three status and then Level Four status.

"We should debrief," Michael commented and Nikita lifted an eyebrow. She looked at the team of operatives that were helping each other out and into the hallway. Michael was holding his own arm and Nikita shook her head back and forth.

"You need to go to medical. The debrief can wait until morning," Nikita commented as she pulled the other gun off of Michael and the communications unit. It was a sign that Nikita was going to take care of Michael's equipment.

"You don't have to do this, Nikita," Michael stated and Nikita shrugged her shoulders.

"It gives you a reason to give me some brownie points for getting my levels," Nikita announced and Michael tried to grin. If he knew what was going on, he would have. The entire mission was a blur of mishaps and problems.

"Have Walter look at your first communications unit," Michael ordered as he split from Nikita side. He moved down the hallway and out of sight. Nikita stood in the hallway as the rest of the team moved behind Michael, either injured or supporting someone.

"Walter..." Nikita drawled out as she dropped the guns on the table. He lifted his eyes and swallowed. Birkoff had been worried sick about the mission.

"Birkoff took Maralah home... Stacy got in and was going to meet Birkoff there... He'll be heading back here," Walter stated, hoping that was the reason why Nikita was there. Nikita pulled out the communications unit and handed it to Walter.

"It went out during the mission... Luckily Michael had one stashed..." Nikita commented. Walter didn't have to ask Nikita what she wanted to do. Walter would find out what happened and if someone tampered with it. He sighed and looked to Nikita.

"Heard Michael got shot," Walter commented and Nikita nodded her head as she rolled her shoulders back.

"In the arm... He went to get it out," Nikita commented. Walter nodded his head and looked at Nikita. He looked down as Nikita's hand extended and dropped the metal on the table.

"It was hot when I picked it up," Nikita commented as she looked up at Walter. Walter shook his head and then looked around.

"You got to tell someone, sugar," Walter stated and Nikita swallowed.

"I can't be for sure... I mean... maybe I am just making this up myself," Nikita stated and Walter shook his head. He knew what Nikita was finding and he knew that it scared him.

"What if they are only doing this on your missions, sugar? What if they are truly after you?" Walter questioned and Nikita dropped her head. She had thought about that on the ride home.

"I don't think that is the case, Walter... I think we accidentally walked into something tonight.... that the group was getting ready for us to do..." Nikita stated and Walter rolled his eyes. He knew that most of the time he agreed with Nikita's odd ideas, but this one was starting to stretch it.

"Before you say no, Walter.... That mission wasn't supposed to go out until tomorrow... but when Davenport went ill... they placed Michael on the team... Michael has a meeting tomorrow with a contact about Glass Curtain..." Nikita outlined quickly. Her outline all of a sudden made her words seem real and possible.

"Ok... sugar... I'll stay quiet... This time!" Walter commented and Nikita smiled. She just needed to know more. Maybe she would get into housekeeping before the bodies were destroyed. Maybe housekeeping didn't know what to look for. But not now. Nikita was tired.

"I'm going to go home," Nikita stated and Walter raised an eyebrow.

"You aren't going to shower first?" Walter questioned and Nikita shook her head.

"I have things to deal with," Nikita stated as she thought about her ankle. It couldn't be as bad as she first thought.

*

Nikita leaned her head down on the steering wheel. She looked to her house and wondered how she ever was able to drive there.

Oh, she drove with her left foot.

The thought of getting out of the car scared Nikita. Now, all of those reasons why she hid the injury were gone. Now there was the pain and realization that she made a terrible decision about going home. She knew that it was because she wanted to live in a house with Michael and Maralah as a family before Maralah turned eighteen and went away to college.

Nikita closed her eyes and just started to walk to the house. It was mind over matter. The pain was there, yes, but she did not give it more strength as she walked. There was one reason why Nikita was able to do this right now.

Maralah was home. She was in the house and Nikita couldn't allow her daughter to see her in pain. That was unacceptable.

Stacy was at the door as Nikita entered. Maralah was in the living room, watching Barney. Nikita smiled at Stacy as she pulled off her jacket. Stacy used to be a field operative; she knew how it felt to come in from a mission that has come in bad. Stacy had been removed from the ranks of field operative not to only help baby sit Maralah. She was starting to train with the torture technicians. Nikita couldn't see that Stacy had it in her, but Nikita counted her lucky stars. Stacy was great with Maralah.

"You didn't change. Are you going to take a shower? How is Michael?" Stacy questioned and Nikita tried to force out a smile. All Nikita wanted to do is go upstairs and hide. Now that she was home, Nikita didn't know what to do about her injury. Nikita just knew one thing; she wasn't driving herself back to Section One.

"Michael will be fine... and I'm just going to go upstairs for some sleep," Nikita stated and Stacy blinked her eyes. Usually Nikita was very independent, sending Stacy home as soon as she could. Usually that meant a shower.

"Ok..." Stacy trembled out, as she was not sure what that meant. The young operative could tell one thing, Nikita looked awful.

"If you could stay until Birkoff comes... and keep Maralah down here... I'd appreciate it," Nikita stated as she pushed her hair back with her hand. Stacy started to nod her head. The standing orders were for Stacy to do as Nikita and Birkoff needed.

"Well... Maralah just woke up from a nap... I'll probably take her out for a walk... It's a pretty nice day," Stacy commented and Nikita smiled. She thought again that Stacy was going in the wrong direction in Section One.

"That's nice... make sure to call into Birkoff to tell him," Nikita commented as she stared up the stairs. Stacy watched and then cleared her throat.

"Do you need something? Maybe something to drink? Tea?" Stacy offered and Nikita smiled. This is what she loved about Stacy even more. She was more than someone to watch Maralah. She was almost like Nikita in many ways.

"If you could bring a bag of ice up... I sprained my ankle slightly and need to ice it," Nikita commented and Stacy nodded her head. She was all too eager to help Nikita.

"I'll do that as soon as I get that Barney tape out," Stacy laughed as she moved to the living room. Maralah had turned the volume up. Nikita dropped her face and swallowed. She was just glad that Stacy wasn't there to watch her walk up the stairs painfully. If Stacy watched Nikita do that, Nikita was sure that Stacy would tell.

Another standing order.

Nikita settled in her room carefully, deciding to sit on the bed instead of her chair. Nikita didn't like that. It was difficult to reach her boots. Nikita pulled the chair out and grimaced as she moved to the chair.

Slowly, the pile of clothing started to grow. Nikita pulled away the tight and sweat-wet black shirt. She then pulled on the armor. It dropped to the floor. Her pants zippered up the sides and Nikita found herself free of the pants, having a pair of black shorts on underneath and over top of her panties.

"Here you go..." Stacy said as she pushed the bedroom door open. Stacy handed over the bag of ice with a damp cloth, just like you are medically supposed to do. Nikita smiled and Stacy looked down at the clothing.

"Do you want help with the boots?" Stacy questioned and Nikita shook her head.

"I'll be fine... If you can turn off the light and close the door... I'm about to fall asleep at the desk..." Nikita commented and Stacy nodded her head. It was her one downfall at times. She was too eager to please.

Nikita found the first boot so easy to remove. She looked down to her injured ankle and swallowed. The boot had given her support. It had compressed the swelling. Nikita could feel the swelling pushing at the seams of the boot. It was not going to be pretty.

And Nikita started to cry.

No matter what, this was something that she should have addressed while in Section One. She should have never come back home. Never. This was different. This was going to require a bit more than a stitch here and there.

Nikita leaned her head back and covered her mouth. She didn't know where Stacy was, but Nikita hoped that Stacy had gone downstairs. However, Nikita couldn't chance it. She couldn't be heard crying. Nikita wondered how she was able to get her.

How was she able to walk up the stairs?

Nikita knew without taking the boot off that her ankle was broken. That much was clear. How much damage was done with the break was a different story. Nikita didn't know, but it felt bad.

Nikita started to pull the laces out. Just the touching of her fingers and the loosening of the boot started to bother Nikita. She felt the dizzying pain and cursed it. Anything to get it to stop.

Nikita had made her decision and now she had to see how she was going to live with it. If it was slight, she may be able to pull it off. But deep down, Nikita knew that this was more than slight.

Nikita pulled the laces all the way out and pulled at the tongue of the boot. Nikita could see with the room that she had given the ankle, how much it had already swollen. Nikita lifted her leg up and felt the pressure of the gravity from the boot on her ankle. It finally fell to the ground. Nikita picked up a pair of scissors and started to cut the sock off, knowing that she wasn't going to be able to pull the sock off.

Nikita picked her leg up and placed it up on a small stool. She placed the ice on the ankle and winced. She bit down on her lip to stop the scream from echoing in the room. Nikita closed her eyes and looked to the bed.

She couldn't even move there.

In the dark, Nikita could see the swelling. In the dark, Nikita could see the discoloration. In the dark, Nikita could see the disfiguration. In the dark, Nikita could tell that the broken bones hadn't pierced her skin.

In the dark, Nikita knew that she would regret this decision.

~~

Michael had received the summons while the nurse had wrapped his arm up with the gauze. She had taken too long. Michael was sure that was because he had changed into a black tank top and his arms were exposed. He didn't know why the staff of medical thought he couldn't hear the comments from behind the curtains. Michael heard every word about his arms and back. And he knew that they always spoke about his posterior.

Madeline and Operations wanted to see him. Michael couldn't phantom why. The doctor told Michael to take two days off. He could still make the meeting with his contact. That wouldn't be bad.

"You need a sling..." The nurse stated and Michael looked at the nurse and stood up. Such things couldn't bother him.

Michael exited medical and started to walk towards the observation tower, thinking about what was going on. Nikita was up to something, but Michael found it hard to figure out.

She hadn't even stopped in medical to check on him. That made Michael nervous.

Michael turned his head as he walked passed Walter. Walter was busy with something. In fact, of late, he seemed to be busy all the time. The friendly, compassionate, and usually over the top flirtatious man had become subdued. That only happened for two reasons.

One, he found a new ladylove. Michael knew that Birkoff would have told Nikita about that and Michael knew that Nikita couldn't keep secrets about anyone's love life.

Two, he was working on something secret.

And Michael had a suspicion that it had something to do with the way that Nikita had been acting of late. Michael looked up to the tower. Madeline and Operations were studying some screens and not looking in Michael's direction. He couldn't ask Walter directly what was going on, but he knew where to get some information.

"Birkoff..." Michael hailed the young computer expert. Birkoff lifted his head, the strain of the mission on his eyes. Birkoff always felt bad when a mission went badly.

"Michael... Nikita went home," Birkoff stated and Michael nodded his head. He looked up at the board and his eyes looked at the list of operatives that were on. Stacy was still at the house and Michael licked his lips. He didn't like that.

"Good... She didn't visit me in medical, I was wondering if anything happened," Michael commented and Birkoff jerked his head to the side. What Michael just said did not fit Nikita unless something was wrong.

"No... I just heard that some operatives stated that Nikita returned weapons to Walter, talked a little, and went home," Birkoff informed Michael. Birkoff hadn't actually seen Nikita. They must have both be in the cars driving to the other location at the same time. Nikita was long gone by the time that Birkoff arrived back.

"Walter has been very busy of late," Michael commented as he looked up again. Still, Madeline and Operations were preoccupied.

"Busy? I don't think that describes it... Obsessed... And very protective... Although I can tell you which other organizations he has been in contact with... I just don't know what about," Birkoff stated and Michael looked to his hands. Why would Walter need to be in contact with other agencies?

"Which ones?"

"CIA, Interpol, FBI, the Syndicate, NSA... and a few others... I don't think he found what he was looking for," Birkoff informed Michael. All of it sounded odd. Walter wasn't usually one that would play with computers like this.

"Thanks," Michael commented as he stepped away, knowing that Madeline and Operations were waiting for him.

Michael entered the office and Operations smiled at Michael. Madeline moved and pulled out the glasses. Michael watched as Operations poured the champagne for Michael and Madeline first. Michael looked at the glass and then to Madeline.

"What is this for?" Michael questioned.

"Nikita..." Operations stated and Michael watched as Madeline sipped at the champagne.

"Shouldn't Nikita be here?" Michael questioned and Madeline looked to Operations and smiled.

"We thought you would like to give her the good news... and celebrate with her," Madeline stated and Michael looked to Madeline. He had a feeling he knew what this was about, but couldn't be sure.

"About what?" Michael questioned and Operations grinned once more.

"Like you don't know, Michael... After reviewing the tapes we have from the mission.. and the fact that she found you in an pitch black warehouse without you knowing... We have granted her Level Three status," Operations announced and Michael nodded his head.

This was good.

But Michael wouldn't allow Operations and Madeline know how happy he was.

"With the way you were acting, I was hoping you were going to stay Level Four," Michael stated as he sat the glass down. He wouldn't drink to Level Three, although he would celebrate with Nikita.

"That is still a long way off," Operations warned and Michael nodded his head. He knew that Operations was going to fight Nikita on this tooth and nail.

"I understand and I will remind Nikita of it," Michael commented as he looked back and forth between the leaders. This was something that they should have told Nikita themselves. He hated when they made him the gopher with information and announcements.

"Go tell Nikita... get some rest... Take the next two days off," Operations ordered and Michael folded his hands in front of him.

"I have a meet with a contact about..."

"Not necessary... We got the intel while you were out... We can finish the profile without the contact," Madeline stated and Michael nodded his head. He stepped back and moved out of the room. He rubbed his fingers under his nose, lightly pinching.

Michael didn't know what kind of game that was all about. He didn't have the energy to try to figure it out either. He had two things to worry about and Michael had a feeling that he better concentrate on Walter. Somehow, that was more connected to Nikita.

~~

Michael opened the door and walked in. Stacy immediately rounded the corner, ready for action if needed. She sighed in relief as Michael pulled off his coat. He hadn't even put a black shirt over his tank top and he watched Stacy's eyes widen.

"I see that medical did a good job," Stacy lamely stated and Michael forced out a smile. He was trying to think positively. Maybe if Nikita knew that she had just achieved Level Three status, she would tell him what was going on.

"Nikita is upstairs... She was exhausted," Stacy commented and Michael frowned. That wasn't like Nikita. Even though the mission was long and hard, Nikita had a good night's sleep before the mission.

"I have some good news for her... And she should eat," Michael commented as he started towards the stairs. Stacy nodded her head and moved back to Maralah.

One of Michael's many questions was answered. Stacy stayed because Nikita had gone to sleep. It was abnormal, but not unheard of. Sometimes Section One just would work Birkoff and Nikita together to the ground until all they did was sleep.

Not that Michael was excluded from that occurrence. However, of late, he had been getting more time off than normal.

"Nikita?" Michael questioned as he knocked at the door. Nikita never closed her door. NEVER.

"Oh, Michael... I don't feel like talking now," Nikita stated and Michael wrinkled his eyebrows. It sure didn't sound like Nikita was in bed.

"I have some good news," Michael commented and he waited. He waited for Nikita to ask what.

"Nikita?" Michael questioned again as he pushed at the door.

"Michael... please later," Nikita commented and Michael frowned. That changed his answer immediately. This was going to happen now.

"No, Nikita... This is good news.. from Madeline and Operations," Michael stated as he opened the door and saw Nikita at the desk, with no lights on. Michael lifted his eyebrow and looked around. Michael swallowed.

"They gave you Level Three status," Michael stated and there was nothing. There was no gasp of excitement and accomplishment. It only multiplied Michael's worries.

"Why are you in the dark?" Michael questioned.

"Because Stacy turned the lights off like I asked her," Nikita calmly stated. Michael tilted his head to the side and felt the need to take in a deep breath of air.

"Why didn't you get up and turn the light on?" Michael questioned.

"Because I can't!" Nikita stated out as the tears started to fall. Michael couldn't see in the room and he turned the light on.

And what he saw, made him want to turn the light back off.

Nikita's ankle was dark as the room had been.

*

"Nikita..." Michael softly stated as Nikita lifted her head. Nikita allowed the tears to fall. she couldn't hold it back any longer. She didn't want Maralah to hear her, but now, the pain was too much.

"It's broken," Nikita stated as she looked to her ankle. She didn't need to see Michael's head nodding up and down. She was afraid that Michael would be disappointed in her entirely. It was a stupid decision to make and one that Nikita would regret.

"We have to take you back in..." Michael whispered and Nikita looked around and dropped her head. She couldn't let it happen not right now.

"Michael... they are going to hold me back... This is going to stop me from getting status..." Nikita sobbed out as she hunched over the desk. Michael looked at Nikita. He didn't know what they would do to her, but the good news, she had already received level three status. Of course Nikita didn't know that yet.

"Nikita... your toes are turning blue... This is a serious break... it is cutting off circulation. It needs attention now," Michael dictated in a smooth voice, trying not to allow his emotions break into his voice. It did no good as Nikita looked up in Michael's eyes.

"Why are you here? You never come here without a reason," Nikita questioned and Michael swallowed. He didn't want to get into the business around his appearance. Michael moved to the bed and pulled a pillow off of the bed. He walked back to the stool and looked at Nikita's ankle and shook his head.

"We have to support the ankle... Do you have tape in your desk?" Michael questioned as he looked at Nikita. She knew what he was doing and lifted her leg so Michael didn't touch her ankle and caused more pain. Nikita winced as she settled her ankle in the pillow.

"Michael, you didn't answer my question," Nikita accused Michael as he pulled her drawers open. Nikita placed her hand out and stopped Michael from pulling the masking tape out. Michael looked at Nikita and swallowed.

"I felt that something was wrong... that you are hiding something... I decided to come and talk about it," Michael stated as he pulled his hand away and achieved in grabbing the masking tape. He reached down and started to secure the tape around the pillow, trying to keep his eyes off of Nikita's.

"You aren't telling me the truth! And you wonder why I ran here when I knew that I was hurt!" Nikita screamed and Michael dropped the tape. He bent down to his knees and looked at Nikita. She was almost naked, but that didn't matter now. Her ankle mattered.

"Nikita... we don't have the time now," Michael softly stated as he tried to portray to Nikita why it was important. The longer they waited not only put Nikita's health at risk, but would make the wraith of Madeline and Operations worse. They had started to rely on Nikita for missions and they were going to lose that talent for some time.

"This isn't just about you, Michael! This is about our family that is never going to be together!" Nikita wailed and Michael closed his eyes slightly. He looked down to his hands and then back up at Nikita.

"Do you want Maralah to hear you?" Michael hissed and Nikita looked at Michael. That was far from what Nikita wanted. She wanted to protect Maralah and she wanted to give her daughter the best of the world that she was living in. It was not a reality that Nikita really wanted for any daughter of hers, but it was the best that Nikita could do. And the best that Nikita could do is get her level four status.

"I want to get my level four status, Michael!" Nikita whispered as she dropped her head slightly. The tears glistened as they rolled down her face. Michael swallowed.

"Nikita... I came here tonight because Madeline and Operations have granted you level three status," Michael stated, hoping that it would help him in the task of getting Nikita back to Section for medical attention.

It didn't.

Nikita broke down in sobs, uttering every thought that she had. She wondered if it was going to be taken away from her now. Nikita worried about how long she was going to be hurt. She wondered what she would have to do during her recovery. She worried about everything.

"Nikita... you came back in two months from being in an extremely ill pregnancy... I have my faith in you that this isn't going to be a major set back if we take care of this now," Michael stated and Nikita leaned her head back and hiccupped. Michael reached up and swiped at the tears. He could just pull Nikita up in his arms. He knew that Nikita could not fight him as she was too injured.

Michael couldn't believe that Nikita had been able to get back to the house. Her ankle showed signs of multiple fractures. It was not going to be an easy thing to fix. It wouldn't be set and placed in a cast in a few hours. Michael knew that surgery was going to have to occur.

"Maybe it isn't that bad, Michael... I don't want to scare, Maralah," Nikita stated and Michael leaned over. This was his last straw. He would take Nikita out of the house screaming if she didn't willingly let him take her now.

"Nikita... your foot is turning blue... It means that there is no blood flow... You can lose the leg.... Do you think they keep operatives around with only one leg?" Michael hissed out, brutal words to make Nikita tremble. Michael knew he would be apologizing for those words for a long time, but it didn't matter.

"I don't want Maralah to see me," Nikita announced and Michael nodded his head. He had to agree with Nikita's decision. It was best to protect Maralah from most of these things. She was too young to understand and she shouldn't have to understand.

Michael opened the door and looked down the hallway. He was disappointed to see Stacy sitting at the top of the stairs, but at the same time relieved. Michael inched away and looked at Stacy. He could tell that Stacy heard a lot of what was going on.

"Stacy, I want you to take Maralah either into the kitchen or the game room.... And I need you to stay here," Michael ordered. He knew that Stacy had questions, but she was a good operative. She knew when to do just as she was told, unlike Nikita.

Michael moved to the room and threw a shirt over Nikita's shoulders and swallowed. This was going to create such a stir inside of Section One. Michael helped Nikita hold his shoulders and stood her up, all of her weight on her left foot.

"How did you drive here?" Michael questioned and Nikita smiled faintly. She was getting dizzy and now Michael knew he had to continue talking. Not to keep Nikita's attention off of the pain, but to keep her awake until the doctors saw her.

"I used my other foot," Nikita replied as she hunched forward. Michael hooked Nikita's arms around his neck and closed his eyes. Nikita screamed as Michael picked her up and started to walk, careful to guide her ankle away from anything. Further damage was not needed.

~~

Michael walked out of the medical doors and looked around. Madeline and Operations had sent for Michael once again. Nikita was still in surgery, but most of the surgery was done. A plate and a couple screws later, Nikita's ankle was on the mends. It was going to be a difficult several weeks to be around Nikita.

Michael turned and saw Walter staring at him. Michael hitched his head to the side, wondering about Walter's behavior. Nikita didn't talk to Michael much about Section One business on the ride here. It was best to limit the conversation about Maralah.

Nikita couldn't gush enough.

"Is there something that you wanted?" Michael questioned as he walked towards Walter. Walter shrugged his shoulders and looked around. He looked straight at Madeline and Operations and leaned back.

"You have to talk to them," Walter stated with a small shrug of his shoulders. Michael stared at Walter as he turned and walked back into his chamber. This wasn't a Walter that he knew. Walter should have known that Michael never really cared about the timely matter that he met with Madeline and Operations on such matters.

"Something is bothering you. You should know that Nikita is almost out of surgery. There were no complications and no additional fractures," Michael informed Walter, knowing that the older man always was concerned about Nikita. Walter didn't turn back to look at Michael.

"That's good... How long is sugar going to be out?" Walter questioned. His words revealed a worry that Michael wasn't sure about. Something was going on between Walter and Nikita and Michael knew that Walter wasn't going to tell him about it. Nikita might, but not Walter.

"Six to eight weeks in the cast... then probably four weeks of therapy and retraining," Michael stated, trying to detach from that information. In his heart, he was hoping that Nikita would try to make up with Maralah for her extremely busy schedule. Michael knew that it was almost impossible to think that way. Michael was going to have to be proactive in Nikita and Maralah's life for the following months ahead of them.

"Section One is going to miss her expertise," Walter commented and Michael leaned against the counter. Walter was hiding and was going to continue to hide. But Michael might have caught something there. Nikita has never been and probably will never be considered an expert in an area. Michael knew that in a few hours, he would start to look back on all of Nikita's missions and see what she was being required to do.

"I have to go... You know where you can find me," Michael stated as he turned away from Walter. It was a cold way to leave, but Walter was not acting like himself. Walter was trying to protect Nikita from a person he didn't need to protect Nikita from. Michael was sure that Walter had understood that a long time ago.

Michael quickly found himself in front of Madeline and Operations after check on Nikita's status. She was out of surgery and recovering. The doctor stated that she would be waking up in about an hour and Michael said he would be there.

He had promised Nikita that.

"Why did she do it?" Operations hissed at Michael. The demeanor of celebration from just a few hours ago was gone. Michael blinked his eyes and looked out the window.

"The same reason why she has neglected her daughter in the past few weeks... She wants to reach her level four status to put the family back together again," Michael commented in a cool voice, not showing the underlying anger that was there. In ways, it was all Operations' fault for this.

"She took a great risk, Michael. I think that there is more of a psychological reason here," Madeline stated and Michael looked at Madeline blankly. She, of all people, should understand what has motivated for a long time.

Family.

"No. She has done this before. She has hidden health problems going on with herself to benefit her daughter... Nikita feels that Maralah being allowed to live with her real father and mother... is more important than her own health," Michael stated to Madeline. She blinked her eyes and nodded her head. Michael's argument was plausible.

"It's a bad attitude for an operative to have!" Operations hissed and Michael blinked his eyes.

"Actually it is something that we all prepare for... If Nikita was about to drive home with a severe fracture... just think of what that means in the field if Nikita gets hurt. You have trained her to be this way," Michael countered smoothly. Madeline carefully looked out of the corner of her eye before she allowed a smile out.

"How much down time are we looking at here?" Operations inquired.

"Six to eight weeks in the cast... Four of those weeks on crutches... Probably a month to strength and train..." Michael stated and Madeline tilted her head to the side.

"Only a month?" Madeline questioned and Michael glared at Madeline.

"Due to habits that Nikita learned after pregnancy, I have a strong feeling that Nikita will continue to work out all other body parts... She'll probably find the crutches an aerobic exercise," Michael coldly directed towards Madeline. She even dropped her head.

"Did Maralah see her?" Madeline questioned.

"No. But she may have heard her," Michael revealed quickly. There was no reason to beat around the bush there.

"Birkoff is going to be busy for the next few days... I gather you can fill in at the house with Nikita?" Madeline questioned and Operations turned away. It was clear that Operations had lost the power struggle on this decision.

"That will not be a problem," Michael stated and Madeline nodded her head. It was clear that the meeting was over and Michael stepped back. He stopped and looked at Madeline.

"Is there something more, Michael?" Madeline questioned.

"Nikita is worry about her status. Will she be demoted?" Michael questioned, needing to know now how to handle Nikita when she woke up. Operations turned his head to look at Madeline and then to the window.

"No. She won't be demoted," Madeline stated and Michael nodded his head.

It was time to get back to Nikita.

*

Michael watchfully walked up the stairs, noticing the colorful balloons that graced the way. It was clearly something that Birkoff and Stacy worked on to keep Maralah occupied. While Nikita was only in medical for less than a day, for Maralah it was too long. She knew that something was wrong with her mother and was worried.

However, Nikita didn't lift her head from Michael's shoulder. She had been curiously quiet during the entire trip, only speaking when it was clear that she was still too unsteady on the crutches to use them primarily.

"Nikita... you must be glad to be home," Michael stated, hoping that Nikita would lift her head. There had to easily be one hundred balloons in the hallway and stairs alone. It was a bit overdone, but Michael could see the cause and meaning behind it. He just wanted Nikita to lift her head to see what was done for her.

But Nikita didn't speak and Michael stopped at the top of the stairs, turning to look down at Birkoff, Stacy, and Maralah. Michael rubbed Nikita's neck slightly and she picked her head up as a jerk reaction shook her body.

Nikita's mouth dropped as she realized the balloons that hovered about her body. All the pretty colors too. Pink, Purple, Blue, and Red. And a lot of green. Nikita's favorite color.

"What? How? Who? When?" Nikita stammered out as she looked around, almost at a lost for words. She knew that she was loved, but to see it manifested in such a way, with just simple balloons, made Nikita feel it truly.

"Down there, Kita," Michael whispered as he nodded his head to the bottom of the balloon-encased stairs. Nikita opened her mouth, hoping to say something. She was overwhelmed and dropped her head on Michael's shoulder.

"Thank you," Michael mouthed out to those below and Birkoff picked up Maralah. She didn't know what was going on. At times Michael wasn't sure what was going on, but he was going to try.

It was good that Birkoff and the balloon decorators hadn't invaded Nikita's room. She didn't need that. Instead, her room was much like it was when Michael carried her out of there, except her clothing had been removed and the ice bag was gone.

"Here..." Michael whispered as he adjusted Nikita down on the bed, propping up her legs with several pillows. Nikita blinked her eyes and looked at Michael.

"You are doing too much for me," Nikita stated and Michael cocked his head to the side. He never felt that he could do enough for Nikita. Michael quietly sat on the edge of Nikita's bed and took her hands.

"You were unsteady on the crutches... You aren't used to them. It will take some time," Michael commented, knowing that to admit his true feelings about her right now wouldn't help. Nikita was chewing on her lip. She was worried.

"Time? Do I even have time? They took the status away, right?" Nikita questioned in harsh words. Michael blinked his eyes. Nikita shouldn't be worrying about this right now. There were other things to worry about and there were opportunities right in front of her that she didn't have before.

One being two months with her daughter.

"Nikita... you have to worry about getting healthy... It doesn't matter what status you go back to if you don't heal," Michael stated as he rubbed Nikita's hands. He wanted to kiss her, as he knew a lot more than he was telling Nikita. However, the door smashed open.

"MAMA!" Maralah cried out, now finally getting the chance to get close to her mother. Nikita opened her arms and allowed Maralah to crawl in closer to her chest. Nikita smiled and held her daughter. It felt as good as holding Michael at night.

"I missed you Mara..." Nikita whispered as she stroked back her daughter's black hair. Maralah smiled as she leaned up and pressed her lips against Nikita's. Michael looked over his shoulder and motioned that Birkoff should come in.

"What wrong?" Maralah questioned as Birkoff reached around Michael and placed the crutches closer to the bed. It was the logical place to locate them, but Maralah stared at them intently. Her eyes were rounded with wonder and worry.

"I got a big boo-boo..." Nikita commented, trying to remember that Maralah wasn't old enough to get the concepts such as broken and casts.

"I kiss and make better?" Maralah questioned as she started to move. Quickly she had wriggled out of Nikita's arms and was heading towards the apparatuses on Nikita's leg. The medical doctors were trying out a new type of casts, which they had placed on Nikita. Michael argued against it, saying that with a daughter running around, Nikita wasn't a good person to be in an experimental group.

It didn't matter.

Maralah laughed as Michael wrapped his fingers around Maralah's stomach and pulled her away before she could bump Nikita's leg. Michael had experienced the pain that Nikita continued to have from the ankle. Surgery doesn't stop pain.

"You can kiss your mommy's lips. How is that?" Michael bargained. Maralah looked at Michael with crossed eyes, but in the end, gave Nikita the kiss. Nikita smiled and rubbed her fingers through her daughter's hair.

"Not better?" Maralah questioned as she looked at Nikita's leg and Nikita sighed.