(Based on the Season 4 episode "No one lives forever")

So close no matter how far
couldn't be much more from the heart
forever trusting who we are
and nothing else matters

never opened myself this way
life is ours, we live it our way
all these words I don't just say
and nothing else matters

trust I seek and I find in you
every day for us something new
open mind for a different view
and nothing else matters

never cared for what they do
never cared for what they know
but I know

never cared for what they say
never cared for games they play
never cared for what they do
never cared for what they know
and I know

(Lyrics - "Nothing Else Matters" by Metallica)

He was angry, angry at himself, at them.... at her. And that just made him angrier still...

Damn them - damn them all to hell.... The manipulations never ending, a hall of mirrors, that's what they walked through - the corridors of Section ......distorting the truth until it was no longer discernible from the lies ....

Making the deceptions seem more palatable than reality ... how could he expect her to take the truth he now offered? It had been tainted by the stink of Section. He was contaminated by their perfidy until he believed she only saw the cloak of deceit and never the man who loved her.

Or so it seemed to him as he sat in his office late into the night. Another mission in the morning ... an early start, everyone involved was on close quarters standby. He chose to spend the preceding hours in the comforting darkness of his refuge ... he could have gone to her, but the thought of yet another rejection was too much for him to deal with. He tried to dispel the thought from his head, but like a burn it hurt. The look in her eyes - "lost" she had said, she had used the word to describe herself, she said she didn't know who she was ......he didn't believe that. She had been a beacon in the darkness of Section, steadfast in her identity and being ....she knew who she was.

Lost? She was lost to him it would appear ...after all the risks he had taken to bring her back to him she had drawn away from him. He rubbed his forehead in weariness at the irony of it all ... recovering her from the maze within her mind to have her withdraw from him.

Fifteen days? What a joke ... Operations must have known somehow that the offer would never be taken up ...only in the realms of a fantasy would that happen. Payback? He laughed bitterly without humour.

When he came back from Senegal he would confront her ... then he would end this painful patience that plagued his soul. Waiting for her, wanting her and hating her. Love and hate, two sides of the same coin, two emotions so intense they were perilously close. The coin between him and Nikita lay on its edge, and he had no way of knowing which way it would fall. And theirs had been such an intense love. Then the coin that was their lives had been tossed so high in the air, it had hit the ground still spinning. Even now he couldn't tell which way it would come to rest. If he interfered she would despise him. There was nothing he could do that would not be perceived as a strategy ...... he could set a profile for anything it would seem except his own life ...the forces of nature and the will of fate seemed to take that in its hands.

***********************************

Steeling himself as he returned to Section, grimy faced ... handing over this weapons for Walter to check in .. he could tell something was wrong ....there was no way Walter had ever been able to hide a thing from him .... he was refusing to meet his eyes ...... looking anywhere but at Michael.

"Walter?"

"Yeah -? " gulped Walter, knowing there were no hiding his thoughts from Michael. He had that uncanny knack of looking into a person's soul and lifting up the corner to see the dust under the rug ....

"What is it?"

Walter was torn between being the one to break the news to Michael, or leaving it to Madeline and Operations ... they would no doubt take great pleasure in telling him all about Nikita's new won freedom, along with the attendant conditions that she did not contact any of them ever again .... Shit, how could he tell him?

"Nothing - nothing, man ... debriefing now?" he raised his eyebrows hoping that Michael would have to head straight up to the platform. Much as part of him wanted to prepare Michael for the news, he just didn't have the heart.

"Yes." Michael said. One word alone, but his eyes spoke volumes - they told Walter that he knew there was something going on and that he would get to the bottom of it. Walter clenched his teeth shut before Michael's glare loosened his tongue.

Before he said any more he took the opportunity to gather the armoury to his chest and back out towards the store room, muttering "Later..." and trying to smile with his lips still clamped shut ...

Michael took one small step backwards, reversing out of Walter's area, sensing something very wrong, and then turning neatly on his heel he was gone.

Birkoff emerged from behind a pillar and stepped out in front of Walter.

"You didn't tell him!" His voice raised an octave as he accused Walter.

"Hey, amigo - would you?"

"You think I have death wish? "

Surreptitiously they peered from behind the pillar in the store room to catch sight of Michael striding purposefully towards the news they both knew was waiting for him, but which he was as yet unaware.

"I think it's time to get scarce..."

"Me too..."

************************************

Back in his office, he slumped down the back of his door ... he had been gone to Africa such as short time and while his back had been turned the bastards had reached out and snatched the coin from view.

He had no choice - gathering his shattered plans he straightened his shoulders. A look of defiance kindled a flame in the depths of the green pools of his eyes. Well they weren't going to stop him saying goodbye.

************************************

He wasn't going to take a rejection - not tonight.

There was a delay before she opened the door, he thought that maybe he was too late or worse still she wouldn't open the door to him. He thought of the time he had kicked the door to her apartment down. And just as he was weighing up whether or not that would be a good idea, it was no longer an option...

She stood there with a bag over her shoulder. It looked as if he hadn't arrived a moment too soon. To make sure she didn't leave he turned and very deliberately shut the door behind him. Standing facing her he imagined they were both holding their breath, unsure of what to say. She seemed almost shy of him, but she wasn't moving away from him - that was a good sign.

"I came to say goodbye."

The words sprung to his lips automatically, after all, he had rehearsed them over and over again in his head and out loud in the car on the drive over ...... praying he'd get the chance to say them yet dreading having to do so. Would saying it make it real? If he said goodbye, would that be the end?

She looked down, not meeting his eyes... what did that mean? Was she sad? Was she relieved? Was she wishing she'd made it out of the apartment a few minutes earlier and spared herself this scene?

He shut his eyes, for fear she would read his thoughts if she were to suddenly glance up ...It was then that he heard her bag drop to the floor and felt her closing on him, her warm minty breath caressing his face. As he breathed in he could smell her scent, freshly showered, the warmth still emanating from her... and then their bodies took over where their tongues were tied ...... A gentle touch to begin with, cheeks brushing past one another, testing the ground almost. ...checking that the physical contact was welcome. He felt her arms go around him tugging the long black coat from his shoulders and as it slipped to the ground he took hold of it and draped it out of the way ...His outermost shield removed and left at the threshold of what had been her home.

She pressed him back against the door, kissing him urgently now, her hands sliding under his shirt at the back as he took her vinyl coated buttocks in his hands and pulled her hard against him so she could feel his need for her. And as she rubbed against him, he became aware of her mutual need... breaking away for breath she looked him in the eyes directly and nodded before taking him by the hand and leading him to the platform and her bed...

He barely noticed how they lost their clothes so intent was he on feeling her bare skin next to his ... arms, shoulders, breasts, her hardening nipples pressing into his chest as they had seemed to meld into one. As one item followed another, as the clothes came away they took with them his anger, his hurt, and his pain. ...shedding the negative emotions one by one. By the time his head hit the bed, the curls spilling over the pillow in a halo around the base of his neck, all fragments of pain seemed to have been left far behind ... She did want him, that's all his body cried out to him... and it cried out to hers with its want, its need to be one with her.

The desire was mutual it would have appeared as she descended on him ravenously, their kisses become ferocious in their intensity as if she would devour him... It had been too long since they had last been together ... before Helmut he realised and found himself wanting to purge all trace of the other man from Nikita's body. Clenching his eyes shut tight to squeeze the image from his soul he allowed desperation to rule the moment ... Holding her tight to his chest he rolled over, pinning her to the bed, plundering her body with his, pushing between her legs and thrusting in with one smooth movement, she was so aroused he slid in with no resistance, although a soft gasp from Nikita signalled the depth to which he had plunged... filling her totally .... He barely paused before building up a ruthless rhythm taking her fast and hard ...

Her hands on his back clawing at him driving him on ..... her legs wrapped about him tightening above his hips, pulling him in fiercely , almost savagely, urging him on ....... Their love making heated and powerful... Their bodies sheened with a layer of sweat , their breath coming out fast and shallow , panting as their bodies strove to drive each other insane with passion .... The sheets twisted around their legs as they rolled once more, Nikita taking the dominant position on top of him controlling his thrusts - taking him into her rhythm, pushing down onto him, feeling him fill her and drive ever deeper...her hands pressing down into his chest , levering herself upright. The blonde tendrils of her hair sticking to her face and neck ... her eyes now lit with a primitive light ... eyes full of what could only be called animal lust ... whatever issues their conscious minds may have had, this moment belonged to their bodies ...

As she came noisily and violently he noticed with pleasure the pink flush to her upper chest. ...just before his own orgasm took over ... he gritted his teeth as he came feeling her pulsate about him, the echoes of her climax reverberating through him ...Then for a brief moment, time froze in place as they shared the sensation of bliss.

He then felt her muscles relax, as she started to collapse onto him. He took hold of her arms and pulled her down gently to lie on top of him. Stroking the hair from her face he listened as her breathing rate slowed, kissing the top of her head he felt her arms reach round him to hug him tight. Relaxing once more, she languidly rolled over, allowing him to curl up behind her ......it was not long before he could feel her doze in a light sleep that only satisfied lovers can have, that drowsiness brought about by intense sexual fulfilment. Leaning over to drink in the sight of her, he smiled as he looked upon her face, she was smiling, her eyes shut. That look of a cat that's not only had the cream but drank it to excess. He almost expected to see her lick her lips.

**********************************

To begin with Michael held her close and then began drawing delicate circles and intricate patterns along the curves her back with his finger tips... taking in the curve of her neck and the sweep of her shoulders, the silky smoothness of her skin. He had pulled the sheets up around them after she had shivered slightly in her sleep .... Maybe it was a bad dream ...... he began to gently massage her shoulders .... To ease the tension he could sense developing there.

If there were nightmares, it was a good possibility that he was the cause of them ...if not directly, then indirectly. He should never have brought her back into Section that time ... but he had been selfish, finding her in Lyons had saved his life in more ways than one, he had been on a self destructive downward spiral, only halted by finding her still alive. Making love to her then had been like this night - at first fast and urgent, grasping the moment in case it should slip through his fingers. She had made him complete then, her need for him matching his for her - their passions equalled. What of now? He didn't truthfully know - but he had an unsettling feeling that she could survive without him better than he could without her - she was so much stronger he realised, and no, she was not his weakness, his love for her was ...and always would be.

No, he should have done all in his power to help her make a new life when he had offered, he could have kept her safe from Section, there were favours he could have called on, he had the contacts. Yet he had brought her back to hell, to keep his anguished soul company, to provide sunshine in the darkness. He had no right to do that, no right at all. And then what had happened? He had kept the truth from her and had to watch as her new trainer had made a move on her. He couldn't blame Jurgen, not really... and he had almost managed to get away with sacrificing himself so they could be together...

Now it was Section granting her freedom - the one thing that meant more to her than all else, something that had been within his grasp to do once and he had failed - now it was out of his hands.

He wanted to talk with her, he wanted her to wake up and tell him she didn't want to leave Section if it meant being without him ... he wanted to hear her beg Operations to rescind the directive giving her freedom ......... but seeing the way her lips curled up at the corners in a sleepy smile, he couldn't bring himself to wake her.

Michael looked over her shoulder at the clock - it was late, in a few short hours it would be morning and she would have to leave here ... all of her personal effects had been packed already ......not that here were many of them to begin with. He curled a blonde lock around his fingers, letting the soft, fine strands flow through his fingers... kneading her shoulders gently now ..... rubbing in a circular motion, trusting his fingers and hands to remember every square inch of her body .... Memorising the scent of her after love making .... The sound of her breathing, the little sighs that escaped from between her lips .. The way she wriggled every now and then ...the feel of her pressing back into him ... the sensation of the lying close, becoming aroused once more as he nestled between her buttocks ... pulling her closer he revelled in the sensation of the warm, smooth curves pressing against his body ... she moaned gently in her sleep, responding to him subconsciously. His questions dissolved in the warmth of her arms as she turned around, melding her body to his, for one last time.

*********************************

Michael forced himself to leave her bed...he had to be the one to let go now. How did it go he tried to think, the song with the lyrics about if you loved someone enough you could set them free? No, it eluded him, but the words bubbled to the surface as he glanced at her hair spread out over the pillows like golden rays of sunshine. Her warmth still lingered in his body, the memories of her flesh wrapped around his, and the union of their bodies. Now it was time to set her free, not to hold onto her heart if she wanted the freedom on offer.

She was to be collected and taken to her new apartment without anyone from Section knowing the location. He waited in his car outside wondering if he could maybe follow her and find where she was living - he knew he did not dare risk visiting her, it had been made clear to her that any contact with anyone from Section, specifically himself he thought ruefully, would be punishable by re-interment in the bowels of Section 1. She hadn't spoken the words he had dreamt she would say - she had not begged to stay with him.

He ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath as he struggled with the decision to follow or not. At this moment the shrill ring of his cell phone calling him in, calling him away, dealt with his quandary.

"Bon chance" he spoke softly, his eyes fixing on her apartment window hoping to see a curtain twitch and seeing none.

*******************************************

A day passed. Nothing.

A week passed - still nothing. He had not really expected her to contact him. One month later - she had told him that Madeline said she would be evaluated once a month. He had Birkoff find out who was monitoring Nikita's progress on the outside and from there it had been easy to hack into the reports and find out where she was and what she was doing.

Birkoff and Walter had tried hard not to mention her name in his earshot looking guilty whenever he caught them out. They missed her as well.

He suppressed a smile at the notion of her working in a bookshop - he had rarely seen a book in her apartment. She tended to run out of patience before the end - he had noticed her tendency to flick forward to read the ending - when he had challenged her on this once she had just shrugged her shoulders and made some acerbic comment about never knowing if she would make it back home to read the ending. Now she would be guaranteed of that.

He thought of disguising himself as a customer - but she seemed too happy for him to take chances with her new life. She would know him, well at least he hoped she would, and that really did defeat the point of doing it.

***************************************

Another two weeks had passed by - six weeks since she had left Section. A new development had come to his attention - one that worried him. The man, Henri, who was monitoring Nikita was from Oversight personnel, filled in monthly reports on her progress in the real world, for all intents and purposes as if it was for real. He asked how she was adjusting to the routines of everyday life and asked if she was experiencing any difficulties. His reports were meticulously detailed, down to reports on a possibly malfunctioning thermostat being the cause of her sweating. Each report had been so positive - she was living as if Section had never existed.

But a new tier of surveillance had just been put into play, a covert means of assessing Nikita - a Valentine op was to be sent in to make contact with her. No doubt as a test. He hoped she would see through the test. But he could no longer wait around inactive - he had to watch over her. He owed her that.

****************************************

He was cold - frozen to the core as he had followed her from the bookstore that night, watching with clenched teeth as she went out on a date with a virtual stranger. From across the street he watched as she walked carefree and careless as the man she had met in the bookstore and going by the name of Andy walked her home, she was laughing, smiling, holding his hand. A pang of jealousy stabbed at his heart as he watched her kiss the other man good night. He consoled himself with the fact that it was a coy kiss - just on the cheek, not on the lips ... but their parting words filled him with dread.

"Can I call you tomorrow?"

"I'd be upset if you didn't."

He moved out of the shadows and took one step towards what looked like a car show room, he was incensed - it seemed to him that he had been erased from her life ... their relationship shaken off with the cloak of Section as if no more than a dead leaf ......how could she move on so easily? He felt like going to her, demanding to know ...did she miss him? Did she love him still? Had she ever loved him?

She turned to look up the street as Andy waved goodbye ...Michael stepped back into a doorway - the smile on her face stopping him dead in his tracks, his breath condensing into a mist in the chill night air. No ... she was happy, he had no right to damage that happiness... none ...

He had turned away heading back into the night before he saw her open her door, not seeing the man who awaited her.

**********************************************

Michael had returned to Section intent on finding out what he could about this Andy character, who had assigned him to Nikita and why ... why now after six weeks? It didn't make sense.

Birkoff was busy at his workstation when Michael approached him like a shadow himself, moving soundlessly through the corridors of Section. Birkoff heard his breath before he heard his footsteps.

"Michael?" he asked, an eyebrow arching up, clearing the rim of his glasses, which he subconsciously pushed back up to the bridge of his nose while turning to look over his shoulder at Michael.

Michael was looking the worse for wear, nervous, ill at ease. Like someone waiting for bad news ... Birkoff reflected on the ways in which Michael had changed since Nikita had been released. He smirked to himself as he recalled Walter putting a cup cake on his desk and Michael's quizzical look - as if it was a weasel or a bomb. The latter was always a possibility with Walter of course. But he recognised the look on Michael's face, the way his eyes scanned every visible corner of Comm, he wanted information and not just run of the mill information, Michael wanted information that was out of bounds, classified. Birkoff sighed and just asked -

"OK Michael, what do you need to know?"

"I want to know who assigned a deep cover op to work on Nikita and what his profile is." Michael breathed the words rather than spoke them. An exhalation of words forming a question that if it concerned anyone but Nikita would have been devoid of emotion - but Birkoff could hear the slight catch in his voice as he got to her name, a momentary lapse in control as his true feelings came to the surface. He swallowed hard - pretending not to have picked up on Michael's distraught state of mind.

"Sure thing - I could tell you it's not possible, but that's never stopped you insisting before has it?" he tried to make small talk with a man not known for indulging in such meaningless behaviour. But it gave him time to infiltrate the files that held the information sought by Michael -

"Shit ..." his mouth fell open, but before he could recover the use of his jaw muscles Michael had leaned over and read the screen.

Birkoff turned in time to see Michael shut his eyes as if denying the facts before him. He was looking older thought Birkoff, his hair visibly greying and with the stubble of a day's beard growth on his chin, he looked far more unkempt than usual.

"You have not seen that."

Birkoff closed his mouth and nodded, clearing the screen and removing all possible traces of his trespass. He repeated like a mantra in his head Michael will sort this out, Michael will make it better.

But as he turned to watch Michael walk towards his office, he began to wonder how he would do it this time. He looked like a man with the fight knocked out of him.

********************************************

Michael pulled hard on the blinds till they were shut tight before sitting down at his desk. He didn't bother with a light - there wasn't a light strong enough to illuminate the darkness he felt closing in on him. What was she involved in? What did George want with her? He had wrongly assumed the Valentine op had been sent in by Madeline or even Operations in a cynical attempt to test that she wasn't adverse to male company - to make sure she wasn't harbouring any loyalties to him. He swallowed hard - he had been wrong, his pride and ego had allowed him to think it was about him, when it wasn't - not at all. Not as far as either Section or Nikita were concerned it would appear.

One thing that was certain was that he could not interfere - not now, there were games afoot that he was unaware of, played by men who threw away all the rule books long ago. Until he knew more there was nothing he could do.

**************************

His opportunity to find out more came sooner than he had anticipated. When he returned to his apartment there was a message left on his answering machine from the York Bookstore, informing him that the copy of The Go-Between by L P Hartleywas now in stock and he could come in to collect it. The voice was female and although an accent of sorts had been affected, he would recognise her particular twang anywhere.

The following day he made his way to the bookshop. The woman at the counter was flustered at his request - saying it must have been the new girl, but that she had just left that very morning, saying there was a family emergency - after much searching through the order books she found no reference to the book ordered or received.

"Perhaps I misheard the call - maybe it was another bookstore" Michael graciously gave the owner a let out clause, for which she blushed in gratitude.

"Yes - maybe it was - I am sorry."

"No, it is no problem," he spoke while an alarm in his head alerted him to the possibility that Nikita was indeed in trouble - why else leave him that message - then her not being here - what had they done to her?

It was dark as he returned to his car in the car park at the back of the bookstore ... frost had already formed a crusty, sparkly layer on the outside of his Mercedes. He opened the car in a hurry to get in and put the heating on ... and it was not until he sat down that he saw the numbers scraped in the frost on his windscreen.

89.7

A radio frequency? He wondered how the hell she had managed to do that and thought twice about tuning in, knowing that there was no way that Section would miss that - she may as well have left him a note in an envelope taped to his steering wheel. Somebody had provided her with the technology to do this, knowing it was a sure-fire way of being detected.

But, despite his instincts, he did turn the radio on and tune into that particular frequency ...

Michael. I need to see you. If you can get away, shine your lights.

He felt as if he was re-enacting a poor spy movie - but obeyed the request, flicking his lights on and then off again.

Tomorrow at noon.........

He took in the details amidst a feeling of extreme unease - noon? Nobody arranges a clandestine meeting at noon! His years of experience screamed set up - but he had no choice but to play along with whatever game this was - he hated the feeling of being manipulated.

He rubbed his forehead wearily and decided not to waste time or energy wondering why she had chosen such a spectacularly indiscrete way of getting in contact with him. Birkoff would choke on an Oreo if he heard about this one. In fact he probably already was - then he would of course have no choice but to tell Operations about it. Michael knew that Birkoff would feel torn but if he did not tell Operations then somebody else would.

Somehow he would have to play along and not give any indication that he knew that they knew - which meant he would have to be in the Patrician Bar at the designated time. This was becoming increasingly frustrating, but he had to wait for the opposition to complete their move before he could assess first of all what game they were playing and then what his options were.

********************************************

Michael paid a late night visit to the area where Nikita lived. From a safe distance he checked out her apartment using night vision binoculars ... the only change he could make out was that a potted plant now sat on a pedestal near the window. He saw lights go off, heard music stop playing. And in the shadows of an alley way closer to her new home he saw another watcher - his presence alone confirmed that Nikita was still there. It was the man from the bookstore - Andy. Michael suppressed an urge to tackle him there and then - to push him against the wall, his arm at the other man's throat and demand to know what was going on. However, he knew only too well that the other man was a pawn in the game, no more aware of the strategies being deployed than he was himself. For the time being he would leave Nikita under his scrutiny - he felt certain there would be no move made until the next day at noon. It would be too risky to stay any longer, if he was detected it could only cause trouble for Nikita, and he felt she would not thank him for that.

So with a heavy heart weighed down by the night, he made his way back to what he supposed was his home, regretting yet again the fact that he had never pursued his request that Nikita come to live with him. After the entire mess with Helmut and her reluctance to let him near her recently, with the bittersweet exception of the night he went to bid her farewell, it was maybe just as well... Wrapped in melancholy thoughts that provided scant comfort in the bitterly cold air he melted into the shadows.

********************************

It was beginning to snow as he walked towards the Patrician Bar and Grill on City Street, the small white flakes swirling lazily in the air before settling on his long black coat melting as they touched the fabric. Snowflakes settled in the curls of his hair, kissed his face... gentle, icy kisses.

Purposefully he strode straight towards the coffee bar, refusing his innate desire to look around from side to side scanning the corners for suspicious characters, odd vehicles. He just played out his role, which was to be in the café at noon. He was a few minutes early - but he would rather get there early than late, just in case.

He ordered an espresso - needing a strong dark intake of caffeine and sat still waiting for her, wishing she would arrive soon and that it would all be well. He began fantasising in his head of her rushing in, smothering him in a big embrace in her afghan coat, telling him she loved him and could not bear being away from him any longer. But he knew that was not going to happen, partly because he wanted it to, and he never got what he wanted without fighting for it...and also because he knew she wasn't going to make it to the café.

He looked at his watch again - the tenth time in ten minutes - it was now ten past twelve and no sign of Nikita.

The waitress at the bar was nudging her friend - he could overhear her mutterings and was amused in spite of himself. The one with the strawberry blonde hair hissed "He's been stood up - would you believe it ?" and her colleague with long dark hair, who seemed unable to stop staring in his direction mumbled " What sort of brain dead bimbo could stand up a man like that? Maybe he needs another drink?" But before she could reach the coffee pot, her friend had grasped it firmly "Forget it sweetie - I saw him first,"

Out of the corner of his eye Michael saw the black van sweep past - its windows darkened, they had her now. The charade was over, he could return to Section and find out what was going on.

Michael got up just as the waitress was bearing down on him brandishing a jug of coffee ......

She stood dumbfounded as he graced her with a small sad smile and one word.

"Merci", he had left a few coins as a tip on the table for his coffee and was pushing the saucer towards her. But that is not what she was looking at.

She thought she was going to melt into a puddle on the floor, the man was gorgeous she thought to herself, perfect. Those eyes, those lips...He didn't so much walk as glide to the door and was gone before she could utter the one word that came to mind -

"Eek".

*******************************************

No sooner had Michael walked into his office than Operations summoned him to his office.

"Michael - I am very disappointed. When Nikita contacted you, it was your duty to report that to me. Why didn't you? No, I don't suppose there is any point asking that question. Some foolish notion you still harbour in your head that you owe it to her. " He smiled cruelly, without humour, enjoying the opportunity to bait the man in his office, " Well Michael, she is now back here in Section, status reduced naturally and entered for a retraining program. Tell me - why did Nikita want to meet with you?"

Michael looked straight into his superior's blue grey eyes ... the gloating stance was covering something up, he could sense the uncertainty there ... Operations was also in the dark and he didn't like it.

" I do not know. Perhaps if she had made it as far as the coffee shop I would have found out." Without breaking his stare Michael turned the tables briefly on the older man.

"And then you would have reported in full? Why am I having trouble believing that, Michael?"

"As it is you will never know".

"Michael, I will give you one last chance to tell me why Nikita wanted to see you. Do not disappoint me further." The threatening tone was unmistakable now.

"I do not know." The answer was simple, it was the truth, Michael had no idea whatsoever why Nikita had wanted to see him.

"You may go, but you have not heard the last of this, Michael - and until I know what is going on you are confined to Section. You will not take part in any live missions until I know where your loyalties lie, is that clear?"

"Yes, sir." Angry that his loyalty to Section had been called into doubt, yet simultaneously relieved, as it would keep him close to where Nikita was being held. He needed to find out what was going on - and before Operations.

**********************************

Michael made his way to the holding cell where Nikita was being kept, it would appear that the rules had been slackened, under normal conditions she would be allowed no visitors, apart from Madeline and maybe the envoys of pain with their yellow brief cases.

As he passed the guards and opened the door, she looked up, as did Walter and Birkoff, they made excuses to leave, obviously on account of him, and Walter gave him the filthiest of glares as he left, as if to say it was all his fault. Birkoff just shuffled out, avoiding eye contact completely by gazing at his toes. What had she told them?

*******************************

"How could he? That egocentric son of a bitch! He should have left her in peace - it's not as if he has been short of offers in the past few weeks -"

"W-Walter -we don't really know all the details - you know maybe it was her idea?"

"Birkoff - you know what freedom means to Nikita - she would never give it up just for a quickie with Michael!"

"Maybe not - I'm just saying that -"

"Saying what - you know more?"

"No- no I don't know anything. It's just ..."

"Well, I expected better of him - I really did-" Walter wandered off, shaking his head in disgust and muttering about tying a knot in something.

Birkoff bit his tongue, unable to tell his friend that Nikita had lied to them both, that far from Michael being at fault, he had yet again been trying to look out for Nikita. He wanted to stand up for Michael, but feared the consequences if he did.

*******************************

Michael approached Nikita waiting for a gesture to show him what she was after - why she had asked him to meet her. He wondered if she would drape herself over him, hold him close, reach out in someway. He had expected her to look saddened, angry maybe, disappointed, but what greeted him was defiance -

"How'd they find out? "

Almost accusatory - he was taken aback, but tried not to show it.

"Operations had you shadowed" - it was close enough to the truth. He was more interested in what she had to say.

" Operations talk to you?" He felt as if he was being interrogated. First Operations and now Nikita.

"He wanted to know why you contacted me." And so would I thought Michael .... so would I .

"What did you say?" She was still on the attack - why?

"I didn't have the answer." And still don't .

"I don't want to be free if I can't be with you." At last the words he wanted to hear, but totally devoid of the feelings that he would like to have sensed accompanying them. It was as if she was feeding him a line. What the hell was going on?

He decided not to say too much in his reply - stay neutral -

"They won't make it easy on us."

"What else is new?" What? That was all she could say? After the hell they had both been through when they had last tried to establish a relationship, after the risks he had taken to get her back to him? As if he had just said that the weather forecast had been for more snow... He couldn't listen to much more of this, he was getting no where fast.

"I have a briefing." It was all he could think of - a lie, but she was not to know he had been pulled from active duty.

"I have to report to training." Nikita threw in as if to say she was busy as well and couldn't hang around chatting with him all day.

Michael left the room ... feeling colder inside than he had in the wintry chill of the previous night.

***********************************************

Michael returned to his office via Birkoff's work station -

"What did she say to you?"

"Sh-she said she needed to see you - that she had grown to depend on this place - "

"Do you believe her?"

"Hey, Michael!"

"Tell me-"

"No - she wasn't herself, not like before I mean, but there's something she's keeping back - "

"Is her room under surveillance?"

"Yeah - hang on I'll bring it up"

Birkoff tapped a few keys, expecting to pull up the feed from the cam set up to observe Nikita - it showed her talking to herself.

"Sound?"

"I can't get it - there's some kind of interference- " He frowned as he manipulated the volume controls ... then they watched on in disbelief as Nikita peeled back the thin foam mattress to reveal a gun stowed away in a small hollowed out compartment

"Woah!"

Birkoff looked up at Michael asking wordlessly for advice ...

"Is anyone else monitoring now? "

"No - Operations and Madeline were watching while you were in there, but not now, they are in a briefing - Michael, they will see this later -"

"Not if you remove it - loop some previous material-"

"Michael!"

"It's only a few seconds - do it - for Nikita."

"Sure." Birkoff rubbed his head - how much more would he be asked to do for Nikita - how many more risks would they all take on her behalf?

*****************************************

"Is it Michael?" Nikita needed to know - he had said so little when he had come to see her - he had been distant, was that guilt, or was he more in the dark than she was?

But George wouldn't say, damn him. If it was Michael she would be more willing to believe she'd make it out alive. She wasn't happy about not being able to check with him.... She could do with his incisive ability to analyse situations objectively - she wanted to talk to him about what George had told her, but couldn't - not here. Not now.

"As of now you're on standby. I'll contact you when it's time to move." George's gruff orders made up her mind.

Operations deserved to die - there were no two ways about it. And if he had been responsible for murdering her father and ruining her mother - if there was the remotest chance that there was any truth in that - then she had no choice. But she needed to know if Michael was in on it - if he was, then he knew all along about her father and had never told her. That would be unforgivable. She had to know.

************************************************

Michael opened the door to his office to see Nikita sprawled across the chair at his desk.

"We need to talk."

Michael tried not to snap at what seemed to be the understatement of the year. He swallowed the urge to bark out well - talk then! .

"You're not supposed to be here."

Considering the fact that she was meant to be under armed guard, her presence in his office was not without cause for suspicion. She had been allowed to visit him, which meant it had been sanctioned by Operations. He was still trying to find out what was going on - Michael took it by the look on Nikita's face that she had disabled the surveillance on his room.

"There's a lot I'm not supposed to be."

Great, she was going to attempt to engage him in word games. No - not a good plan - and what the hell was she doing with that gun? Merde - was she going to shoot him? What the hell did she think him guilty of this time?

" How'd you get that? " Michael decided it was not a good time to let her know he had seen her get the gun from the compartment under her mattress.

" I found it - under my bed."

" You can't keep it."

" Why was I chosen? Is it because of my relationship with you? I can't do this without some answers, Michael. "

Where did that come from? As for their relationship, he wasn't sure what she thought it was any more - and do what?

" Do what?"

" I think you know. "

Michael managed to disguise a look of total astonishment from his face - so she did blame him. He toyed with the idea of proclaiming his innocence and telling her he knew nothing of what was going on, but that would not be completely honest and anyway she wouldn't believe him. He was startled that after such a short separation they were back to that level of hostile distrust. It hurt him that she couldn't openly confide in him.

He asked her where she should be - yet again she said she had to be in training. Goodness only knew what for - she seemed to be bristling with all the qualities that Section held dear.

" You don't want to confiscate this? " She waved the gun in his face - baiting him - he felt torn, would she be safer with it or without it? Probably with.

" If I do that and they find out, they'll put you in abeyance. "

And if I do not and they find out they will put me in abeyance, c'est la vie. Unfair to the very last detail.

" Is that the only reason?"

Michael stared at her - did she seriously doubt that it was not sufficient reason for him? Why did she constantly fail to see the sacrifices he made on her behalf?

" I trust you'll take it back. "

" When I'm done? "

Ah, back to word games - done what?

Michael felt he was unable to communicate with Nikita and rather than allow her to see the frustration, despair and utter loss that he was feeling, he shuttered his emotions behind his protective shield.

All Nikita saw was a blank stare. For her it was enough to condemn him. As far as she could tell him was implicated up to his pretty green eyes.

But as she made her way out of the door, she wondered if she had imagined what she had glimpsed in those eyes just now. He had not defended himself, he had denied nothing, but then again he never did stand up for himself.

Damn him.

Damn this whole mess - she couldn't see the manipulated from the manipulators any longer - and with a guilty start just realised she had been the latter. She had used Michael - and what she had seen in his eyes momentarily was the pain she had caused him.

Operations words of long ago echoed in her mind as she shut the door .....

"You are one of us now."

***********************************************

"never cared for what they say
never cared for games they play
never cared for what they do
never cared for what they know..."

Michael's head hurt - it hurt badly - he suddenly felt like the puck in a hockey game...slammed from one end of the ice to the other ...

And just as he thought things could not get much worse they did - Madeline entered his office.

The look she gave him could have frozen the air in the room ... the sort of look that did not take prisoners, the glare that stripped secrets from souls and tears from the eyes of the hardest of men.

Michael balled up his feelings and hid them ... deep ... composing himself for an attack that he could sense coming.

"I found Nikita on level 11."

Here goes, standard Madeline, straight into interrogation mode , never mind the pleasantries ...... in fact precisely what Nikita had done. The similarity made him nauseous.

"What was she doing?" Standard counter response to Madeline interrogation - answer a question with a question.

" Following Operations. I think she was going to kill him. "

Michael's heart felt as if it were turning to lead in his chest. But Madeline did not know for certain, if she did, his mind reasoned rapidly she would be here to inform him of Nikita's cancellation. She didn't know ...

" Why? "

He couldn't manage any more than that without some emotions breaking through, Madeline would pounce on them as if they were mice and she was a cat.

" I think someone is using her. For their own reasons. "

Ah - in other words Madeline is asking if I made her do it. That means she suspects , but has nothing to go on but her instincts. Michael allowed himself a secret smile - she had broken first, she had answered a question before he had

" Have you told Operations?"

Michael knew she had not - he knew why, but he also knew that she should have done so if she was following protocol. By asking that question he was pointing out her failure.

" Not yet. I want to know more."

And she thought he knew more, no need to let her know otherwise. Time to call her bluff.

" You want to align yourself with his successor. "

" That would be the safe way to play it."

In other words she didn't care if Operations was killed or not. Interesting. Useful.

" Who do you suspect? "

" George. And you. George wants you in Operations chair. Someone he thinks he can control. So you two are using Nikita to kill Operations. "

" Why would I do that? "

She was frightened, frightened that he was working with George. If she were right, she would have had good cause to be scared. And he had nothing to lose by allowing her to continue to suspect that for now.

" Because you'll inherit his post. "

There it was, the accusation, swathed in inferences and implications.

" My time will come. "

Michael spoke quietly, calmly. He was not giving anything away to Madeline's surveillance tape, the one she was no doubt recording now, the one she would analyse in her office later, scrutinising his every reaction, his every word.

" Oh yes. But the question is, when?" Madeline favoured him with a subtle twitch of her full, dark lips, which may have been a smile, or it could have been an unspoken threat.

However, despite his earlier dread as he had taken in the sound of Madeline's heels crossing the threshold of his domain, he had felt more at ease talking with her than with Nikita - ironically she had told him far more than Nikita had. Madeline for all her scheming ambition had been more honest than his erstwhile lover had been.

As she left the room, Michael's head reminded him that it hurt ...

"never cared for what they say
never cared for games they play
never cared for what they do
never cared for what they know..."

******************************************

Michael had set to work on interpreting Nikita's lip movements from the sequence filmed while she had been in her cell alone ...

He could make out her mention of his name. Then his cell phone rang - it was Madeline telling him to stand by at the foot of the stairs leading to Operations aerie - but not to come up.

Something was going on up there - Madeline was trying to tell him. If she needed security in place she would not have bothered him. But she wanted him to be there for a reason; Madeline did nothing without a reason.

Michael slipped out of his office unnoticed and positioned himself at the base of the steps. He could see Madeline ahead of him. He heard the door open and close ... then nothing.

After what seemed an eternity the waiting was over, Nikita came down the steps with an almost tangible cloud over her head - a black storm cloud ...

Seeing him standing there she glanced up, her glare searing him to his very soul -

He reached out to take her arm - but a vehement glance cut off that attempt at connection.

"If what she said is true - and I find out that you knew - I never want to see or speak to you again-ever."

"Nikita - what's going on?" He summoned up every shred of control at his disposal. She had to tell him - it was unconscionable to leave him in the dark and yet throw accusations at him.

"Not here."

"My office?"

"Not now."

"When?"

"I'll let you know."

With that she pushed past, bruising him with her distrust and wounding him with her lack of faith in him.

*****************************

Her call came later that night - stating a time and a place -no more.

He waited for her, reminded of the last time he had done that, wondering if this was yet another test, realising his life was nothing more than a series of tests... With a humourless smile he stirred a second sachet of sugar into the thick, dark coffee.

"Michael."

Now... was that the accusatory form of his name, as in "you are Michael and therefore guilty of whatever I so decree"? Or just the safest way in which she could acknowledge his presence without betraying her emotions? She had got better at disguising them. However, the smokescreen she employed only served to indicate their presence.

"Nikita".

He spoke her name with the syllables carefully dissected apart. No abbreviated affection here - she wondered if he had given up on her, or whether he was in on it all the way.

"Is Operations my father?"

Michael was glad he was not drinking his coffee at the time or he would have been in serious danger of losing his nonchalant appearance. As it was, his face betrayed him - his lips parted as incredulity robbed him of the power of speech.

"I said -"

"I heard. What is this about?"

"Just answer my question."

"Why? Who said he was?"

"George told me Operations killed my father - Madeline says he is my father. Michael don't lie to me, not now - what do you know?"

"Less than you, it would appear - but I do know that you can check blood groups, the DNA -"

"Yeah - I know - I've got Walter onto that already. My blood group is A and his is O, so that doesn't rule out or confirm anything. DNA results will be ready later. Walter was in the middle of prepping for a mission."

"So you'll find out later anyway - why ask me?"

"I need to know if you are lying to me, Michael - did you put the gun under the mattress? Are you working with George? For George? Are you using me?"

Michael moved his full cup of coffee, now too cold to drink, towards Nikita across the table.

"Nikita - you've kept me in the dark, you've been in trouble, yet instead of asking for help, you accuse me of being part of the problem. Until you can accept what I say as truth, there is no point in my providing you with answers you refuse to believe."

"I need to know -"

"Tell me Nikita -that night when I came to say goodbye - did you respond as you did because you thought you would never see me again?"

"What-?"

"Nothing. I have to go." Without another word, Michael stood up and left - as the door swung shut, Nikita watched as he disappeared into the dark blanket of night.

****************************************

Michael arrived back at Section in time to see Operations speaking with George - was this a joint conspiracy to mess with Nikita's head? - It seemed a dreadful waste of resources to him. He would have walked in the opposite direction but Operations called out to him, asking him to accompany George to his transport. He could read smugness in the expression of one of the men and chagrin in the face of the other. It would seem their game was over for now.

Silently, he escorted George to the designated exit point. As he nodded and turned to go, he felt a hand touching his shoulder, stopping to look back he found himself looking into cold, grey eyes. George seemed to look him over once before muttering softly -

"You disappointed me, Michael - I would have thought you would have taken advantage of the situation. Perhaps you aren't ready after all."

***********************************************

As Michael made his way towards his office, Walter came ambling over towards him-

"Have you seen Nikita? I have the results of some tests she asked me to run."

"No."

"Madeline said she's got some downtime -" piped up Birkoff, looking up from his screen. He paused as he caught Walter staring at Michael.

"You OK?" Walter seemed nonplussed by the distracted expression on Michael's face.

"No."

*********************************************

He was angry, angry with himself, at them.... at her. And that just made him angrier still...

Damn them - damn them all to hell.... This Hall of Mirrors reflected only the worst - she had been here too long, the light she had brought with her had become distorted along with every other beam of goodness that had ever managed to penetrate this deep.

He would not give up though, his passion had become an obsession - he would do whatever he could to recover her soul - or die trying.

After all, nothing else mattered...

August 2000

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