This is post Before I Sleep and runs into I Remember Paris.

She sleeps below
She wakes and laughs above
To-day, as she walked, let us walk in love:
To-morrow follow so.

From - "My Friend"
Christina Rossetti

Sarah Gerrard died peacefully, within twenty-four hours of completing her mission for Section One.

In a rare act of compassion, Madeline and Operations had granted Nikita leave time, to be with Sarah in her final hours and to deal with her grief afterwards.

Nikita had never left her friend's side, as she had witnessed Sarah fading from this world. Her only solace for the loss was that she was certain the bright and beautiful woman would find a place in Heaven waiting for her.

Though, Nikita had never been raised to believe in a heaven or hell, during her time on the streets she had been the recipient of the charity of priests and nuns of various orders and good Samaritans. Thus, she found, while looking on Sarah as she had given up the fight, that there had to be something more after it was all over, at least for someone as kind-hearted and with such strong a soul as her friend.

It scared Nikita that she had not been more outraged to find that Madeline had lied to her about Sarah's illness, giving her false hope for such a brave, deserving woman. She had accepted the truth with a numb understanding, and a surprising amount of peace, that Section One was not so evil as she thought them capable. She was also surprised to find peace in knowing that Sarah had been ready to die, had chosen her time and slipped away in tranquility, not fighting or struggling.

Nikita had never witnessed a death so serene.

That it might be a good idea to move had not occurred to Nikita, as she continued to keep vigil at Sarah's side, though the once spirited woman now lay a lifeless shell. For some inexplicable reason, Nikita couldn't leave, remained unmoving, not even flinching when the doors hissed open and Dr. Brighton entered.

"Nikita," he called softly. She cocked her head to indicate she was aware of his presence. "We really do need to deal with the body."

Nikita nodded, swallowing hard. Of course, Section let nothing linger, not even grief was given its time to heal. Pushing herself up, she moved sluggishly toward the door.

"I am sorry," she heard Steven say.

"I know." It stuck in her throat, though she knew him to be a kind man. His sympathy was the last thing she needed. What she needed was to get out of here.

The door hissed open in front of her and she started in shock to find Michael standing sentinel outside it, still clad in his mission gear, holding his gloves in his hands. He must have just returned from Lebanon, having taken over her position in the profile, as point man in addition to team leader.

Only after taking in his appearance did she meet his eyes to find them shining with unshed, unbidden tears. He opened his mouth, to offer her words of comfort and she quickly shot up a hand to forestall him, shaking her head, feeling her own tears tighten her throat. He nodded, looking down. She closed her eyes and felt his hand in hers, in a flash blue eyes met green.

Silently he asked for her to follow and wordlessly she did.

Once out of Medical he released her hand, but she continued to obediently trail behind him, as he lead her through Section and across Comm, finally arriving at his office. He opened the door and ushered her inside, shutting the door behind them. Without a single word, the blinds were closed and his scrambler was activated. Then, the room secure from prying eyes, he headed for the door.

"Michael," she called to him, on the brink of racking sobs.

"Take all the time you need," he told her, his hand readying to pull the door open.

In his eyes, as she met them, she saw a look of pure empathy and grief. He knew the pain she endured, felt it as well, and was giving her time to shed a few of the necessary tears, in private, before she was forced to face their masters.

"Thank you," she whispered, offering him a wistful smile, all she could muster.

He nodded, then pulled the door open and left her alone with her grief.

She had no idea of how much time had passed before she felt she could face the world outside of the safe haven Michael had created. When she did finally exit his office, she found that Section was dark, save for Comm, where a solitary Birkoff worked. Trying to affect a casual air, Nikita approached the computer tech's station. He glanced up in mild surprise.

"Hey," he offered.

"Hey," she returned.

"You all right?" He looked at her over his rectangular frames.

"Mm-hmm." She nodded, her eyes flickering over his, unable to meet them. "I'll be fine."

"Okay." He punched a few keys and the images on the screen changed.

"Is Michael around?" Her attempted to sound disinterested failed.

"Um, no." Birkoff glanced around, as if he hadn't been aware of his surroundings in quite some time. "I think he's gone home."

Nikita bobbed her head, biting her lower lip. Birkoff reached down to a ledge below his desk and produced a DVD, which he held out to her.

"He told me to make sure you got this before you left."

Nikita took the disc between her fingers, turning it around, watching the light play on it's iridescent surface.

"What's on it?"

Birkoff shrugged. "Don't know. Why don't you take it home and find out." He smirked at her. She smirked back.

"I think I might just do that."

Nikita did just that.

Upon arriving at her apartment, she laid the disc down on her counter, as she removed her coat, letting her eyes flicker over it, then dart away as if she were afraid of it. What did she expect it to do, jump up and bite her? She laughed at her foolishness.

Taking a deep breath, she headed for the stove and prepared herself a cup of tea. As she waited for it to steep she leaned against the counter, staring at that mysterious DVD.

What could Michael want her to see?

Did it have something to do with the Lebanon mission? Or was it to do with Sarah?

Had he found out something, in his search, that she wouldn't like?

Michael had liked Sarah, even respected her. Nikita had been foolish to be jealous of the sweet young woman. It just happened to be a perpetual state for Nikita whenever Michael was in breathing distance of another woman. She had also been foolish to not trust Michael. There had been no reason for him to hurt Sarah. That mistrust was another perpetual state for Nikita to be in whenever she found herself in a protective mode and Michael was in breathing distance of the one she was protecting.

Sarah deserved better than the choice Section had given her - work for us or die. It was the choice all operatives were given, but this had been different. They had denied Sarah the freedom to live out her days in peace. They had made her last days up of killings and betrayals. Still, Nikita could see Michael's point, that she hadn't seemed to mind. Sarah had made the choice to do some good with what little time she had left. Hers had not been a wasted life. Nikita realized that if she accepted this fact she could more easily let Sarah go.

Even so, it was a hard thing to accomplish. Nikita hadn't known it was possible to become that attached to someone in so short a time. She'd made friendships and formed bonds with people in missions and out, but the bond she'd formed with Sarah had gone beyond any of those. The young woman had been everything Nikita remembered being, and everything she fought so hard to hold on to, in this retched place. She would miss Sarah's bright soul, as a daily reminder of what she strove to maintain.

The buzz of the timer pulled Nikita out of her reverie and she turned to remove the tea bag from her mug of water.

Nikita took a sip from her tea, her eyes never leaving that bewildering disc.

Finally, giving in to her curiosity, she snatched up the DVD and pulled out her laptop. She then settled herself on her sofa, put her feet up on the coffee table, and stuck the disc in the drive. It was set to autoplay, leaving her no choice.

Within seconds, the screen was filled with an image of Sarah and Michael sitting opposite each other.

******

"'Kay, I'll tell you about her."

Michael ceded control of the conversation, fully, to Sarah, or rather the illusion of total control. He would never relinquish complete mastery over any situation to anyone.

"What do you want to know?" He handed it to her on a silver platter. She smiled again, basking in the power she believed she had over him.

"For starters, what's she like?" The young woman took another sip from her glass, eying him over its rim.

He contemplated his options for a moment, despite the fact that he'd known this would be her first question. Should he hedge, or should he reveal to this woman what he'd kept inside for too long? This session was being monitored, by Madeline and Nikita.

It was important that he find a way to maintain some of his elusiveness, with Madeline, while allowing Nikita to see a little bit of his heart. Furthermore, revealing too much might well put Sarah off, if he seemed too intense. He needed to remain neutral, to achieve their goal. Best to chose a relatively ambiguous reply.

"She's everything that I am not."

"So, she must be nice," Sarah continued with levity, a positive sign. He smiled.

"Yes, she's very nice."

"She's probably beautiful." Sarah frowned, eyes shifting to her hands in her lap. A slip back, he hoped only temporary. "But that's not why you love her, is it."

"What makes you say that?" Good. She had rallied.

"Because, you seem like the type of man who understands that beauty can be deceptive."

"Hm." He nodded.

"The woman who captures your heart would have to be more than physically beautiful. So, there must be something deeper." Sarah paused, tilting her head to the side and lowering her lashes.

"She must be nice."

"She has a good heart."

"Is she an operative, here?" Sarah glanced at her surroundings.

"Yes, she is."

"Then, she must be strong if she's held onto that good heart." Her head dipped briefly as she swallowed a lump in her throat. She took a deep breath before continuing. "I'm finding this can be an ugly place."

Michael remained silent, letting her deal with this revelation, alone. Mere moments passed before she pulled herself from the precipice.

"So, is she one of those women you get what you want from." It was slyly asked, and he found he couldn't play the game. The question cut too deep for her to realize.

He felt his face tighten, as he fought to control his reaction, not wanting to scare the young woman off. She was like a deer in the woods, one sudden or threatening movement and she would dart away from him, never to return.

"No."

"Why?" Her expression softened from playful to tender.

"Because I have been unable to give her what she wants from me."

"Your love," she surmised.

"My declaration of love," he amended.

"It seems such a simple thing." Sarah dabbed at her still damp eyes. "But I suppose nothing is simple, here."

He nodded. Again, she fought her way free of dark thoughts, to return to him.

"What do you want from her?" she ventured.

"Something I fear I will never get." He felt pain rising in his chest, as grievous thoughts chased through his mind.

"Don't you have her love?" To his surprise, Sarah pinned him beneath a penetrating gaze.

"Who said that's what I want." He let a slow smile curve his lips.

It was a dangerous turn where he was taking this conversation. Perhaps it was too early for this level of roguery.

"I, uh. . . I just assumed. . ." Sarah stumbled. He was there to catch her.

"I already have her love. That was inescapable."

"Oh." Sarah lifted her glass, again, hiding behind it, collecting herself. "What is it you want, then?"

"Her understanding."

"Of the work you do?"

He nodded and smiled at her perspicacity, hiding the pain deep inside.

That was the one thing he needed from Nikita, that he would likely never receive. She would never understand his position in Section One, the decisions he had to make, and most of all why he made them. He feared that until she found that understanding their relationship would be forever doomed.

"She doesn't like the way things are done here. Do you wish her to?"

"No," his answer was alarmingly vehement.

"Does she know this?" Sarah sat forward in her chair. Another step in the right direction.

"No," he heard himself say, slowly letting the truth settle in his mind.

"You should tell her." She was forceful in her command, not meek as she predominantly presented herself. "Don't waste any time, Michael. It's too precious. Whatever you think still stands in your way, whatever you're afraid of, it doesn't matter."

Her words felt like a two by four to the back of the head. He hoped he didn't look as shocked as he felt. As it was, he was aware of his eyes widening.

"Promise me, Michael. Promise me you'll tell her."

He couldn't deny the plea in her eyes, or the desperation of her countenance. He let a smile form on his lips, and tried to make it reach his eyes, to reassure her.

"All right." He nodded.

She nodded in return and beamed a smile.

******

The screen went blank.

Nikita sagged against the backrest of her sofa, breathing a sigh. "Michael."

How had he known that she had not seen the entire session? The answer didn't take long in coming. Most probably, being fully aware of Madeline's deviousness and methods, he had known that the Mistress of Mind Games would have cut the feed just at the exact moment she had shut it off.

Which meant that he wanted her to see the rest of the conversation.

Nikita wasn't sure how to feel. With this gesture, it appeared that Michael was taking a step toward her, but how could she be sure. So many times, Michael had manipulated her feelings for him, used them to his or Section's advantage. Was this yet another ploy? Toward what end?

Give it a rest, a weary inner-voice scolded.

She wanted to believe that for once there were no ulterior motives on Michael's part. She wanted to believe he was giving this to her freely.

He's honoring Sarah's wish, the voice offered.

Nikita couldn't help but wonder if Sarah had known the identity of the woman Michael had been talking about. Or had she simply been projecting her own wishes - for a fuller life, for love - onto Michael? Perhaps Sarah had sensed a kindred spirit in Michael. Then again, Michael could have been playing the whole scenario exactly as it had been profiled.

I don't think so, that voice butted in, again.

There had been a few times when Nikita, well versed in the subtle plays of emotion on Michael's face, was fairly certain that he had been knocked off balance by Sarah's questions.

"What does she want from you?"

She had never hidden from Michael what she wanted from him, but she had punished him with it. There were time when she thought he was oblivious or immune to her pain or her love - a heartless, manipulative, unfeeling bastard. His answer to Sarah's question assured her that he had always been aware, painfully aware of her need to hear him profess his love.

Nikita breathed a sigh, shutting the laptop off and setting it aside. She dragged her fingers through her hair.

What was it that Michael needed from this woman he loved? He needed her understanding. Nikita swallowed around the lump in her throat.

She wasn't sure she could ever understand why he did what he did. It was hard enough understanding her own reasons for going along with what Section required.

Michael wasn't the only one guilty of allowing Section to use him, body and soul. At any time, Nikita could have stepped in front of a bullet, there were plenty of them flying these days. She could have put a gun to her own head and pulled the trigger, but something always kept her from crossing that line.

She snorted. Most of the time it was Michael, getting in the way, pulling her to safety, keeping her alive. He could not let her die. He needed her to live.

Jurgen's words to her more than a year ago came rocketing back. "I could also live without you. I'm not sure if he can."

Nikita groaned, burying her face in her hands. Then, with a grunt she dragged her hands up and through her hair. She'd never wanted to be someone's reason for living, never wanted that responsibility. Not that she would ever have known that those words were true. Michael was too good at hiding his deeper feelings; too good at concealing his need for her from the rest of the world. That is, until recently.

A question darted across her mind. Why had Michael told Sarah about his beloved? He didn't have to. He could have evaded, lied even, but he had been honest with the young woman.

One reason, and the simplest for Nikita to deal with, was that Sarah had been a very perceptive woman. It would have been easy for her to detect the lie behind Michael's words. So, he had offered her the truth.

Another reason - like everything in this place, hidden beneath a more benign truth - was also just as probable. Michael was no longer hiding his need for Nikita. This was a calculated move to go public with his feelings for her.

Looking back on the past year, Nikita could see a pattern of calculated moves on Michael's part. It had seemed as if he were maneuvering things into position to protect Nikita and himself, to pull her closer to him, to ensure a future for them both. His lies had become less frequent, and had never been on a personal level. Even though, his worst deception ever had taken place a few months ago, she had buried it, and forgiven, like everything else.

It had been hard for her to hate him for the Peruz nightmare, because, in reality she had been just as guilty. She could have found a way to resist Karl, despite the drug they'd used. She had fought her attraction to Michael for five years. Her wariness of her warm feelings toward Karl, as well as her disgust for him personally, should have kept her from falling into bed with him. That hadn't made the pain go away but it did quell the hatred. It was the fact that Michael had taken her abuse and offered no words of apology which had allowed her to recover from the ordeal. It had been his distance following the events which had allowed her to forgive him.

Ever since the completion of his Blood Cover, Michael had been more open in his approaches to her, even going so far as to ask her out in the middle of Systems, with operatives and Section personnel all around. And he'd been kind to her, helping her to put her past to rest and forgive her mother for years of neglect. Though, it had been a mission, he'd taken her with him when he'd escaped Section, giving them a day and a night of freedom together; a taste of what they'd never have.

She was beginning to question if his request for her to "be patient" was finally going to pay off. Perhaps he was trying to tell her, that he was ready to offer her what she wanted. Perhaps everything that had gone on this year had been to lay his claim to her, as barbaric as it sounded. To tell everyone that he loved her, that they belonged to one another.

Perhaps he was ready to be with her, to finally offer her his love. Through his session with Sarah, he had let her know that he never meant to crush her spirit, as she had always thought. He needed her to retain her inner light. That admission was almost more important than any declaration of love; making her want to believe.

Still, her wariness prevented her from being completely hopeful. In Section, things were never as they seemed, and Michael was the master of obfuscation.

Nikita felt her eyelids droop and slumped further on the couch. She was too tired for a labyrinth, tonight. It had been a long week-plus. There would be time enough tomorrow to deal with these thoughts. Right now, all she wanted was a good night's rest. She dragged herself up the stairs, stripped and fell into bed, asleep almost the instant her head hit the pillow.

The phone had awakened her at five a.m., jolting her out of sleep, with the excepted 'Josephine' caressing her ear, sending shivers of warning and delight down her spine.

So much for her downtime.

Section was extremely active when she arrived, more than the usual number of operatives buzzing around in Comm. She was about to head for Walter's station - he seemed the least busy - to get the scoop, when she saw Michael turn the corner from Madeline's office, walking at a brisk pace across the common area. He looked agitated. She angled herself so that she met his path.

He blinked when he saw her, his expression softening. Her heart lurched, then fluttered. He halted before her, close enough to touch. For a brief instant she thought she could actually feel his anxiety reaching out to her. She swallowed, lifting her chin higher.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"We're going after Glass Curtain."

"I thought we wiped them out, nearly three years ago."

His jaw hardened. "Apparently, we didn't."

That was all he said. She shouldn't have expected more.

With a nod and hands on her hips, she asked, "What do I do?"

"You're on tactical. Coordinate with Birkoff. He has your pad."

"Okay." A neat swivel and she headed for Comm.

"Nikita," his voice beckoned her back.

"Yes." She turned to meet his eyes.

"Are you all right." His question was earnest.

"I'll be fine. Thank you." She offered him a brief smile.

His eyes flickered with recognition and gratitude. He dipped his head in return.

--

The End

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