ATTENTION: Stories marked with an * may contain material which would be better appreciated by those over 18. Parental Discretion is advised. This is your responsibility, not ours. He walked through Section, but felt misplaced. It had been home to him for seventeen years. But no more. Michael knew there was no place for him to call home in this world. From the moment he had met Nikita in the white room, home became a...feeling. It was what he felt when she was with him. For the first four years together, Michael and Nikita spent most of their time together on the job. Stolen moments had been precious, but few. Then things had changed. Nikita had changed. She had finally accept Section as her family. As where she belonged. She defended it with an open mind, if not an open heart. She found ways to deal with lies and betrayal, and she realized that Michael was human. And that the words he had whispered to her were true. *It wasn't all a lie*. And from that moment on, they had learned to be together. It hadn't been easy for Michael, but for Nikita he had been willing to try. And so they had become friends, then lovers. Michael had gone to Madeline. He told her of the relationship and she allowed it. It wasn't an easy path to walk, but Michael knew it would be worth the risk. He took a chance that his heart would beat again. He placed it, raw and bleeding in Nikita's care and she nutured it. It was not a picture perfect relationship. They argued, the talked, they learned and they loved. Both were passionate in their own ways and it was their differences that brought them together. That bonded them into one. That allowed them to be whole when seperate, yet complete when together. Nikita learned that the things Michael did for Section he did because he had no choice. And rather than waste time banging his head on a wall, he accepted what had to be done. He did it and moved past it. Nikita learned to do the same. And, in time, she learned that Michael had protected from so much of the darkness. From the seductions that would have broken her spirit. From the deeds that would have tarnished her soul. She had been grateful. Michael had never wanted her gratitude, nor even her understanding. He had hoped for her acceptance of him. Of what he was and had to be. And in time, she had embraced him body and soul. Section hadn't changed. Michael had been away for over a year. He had been allowed three months leave, the rest of the time he had spent with George. Operations death had been unexpected. It had come quickly, and too late. Too late for Nikita. Michael felt eyes upon him as he passed by Birkhoff's station. The young man looked the same. Older now and no doubt wiser, but still Birkhoff. Michael allowed him a glance of recognition, then he headed for the stairs that led to his office. His new domain. After Operations heart attack, Michael had been notified. He had been on leave then and had come back in. Not for the funeral, for there had been no services, but to help Madeline run Section until Operations replacement arrived. It had stunned Michael when George had appeared to announce to Madeline and Michael that Michael would be taking over as head of Section One. "I'm not ready," Michael had protested. "You will be," George had promised. Then he had gone. Madeline had spoken with Michael then, assuring him that he could do the job. And that he should. Michael knew he wasn't being offered a choice. George had decided. Michael had considered *other* options, but discarded them. Death was not acceptable. It had defeated him often, and recently, but he would not play it's game. He would do what needed to be done. He would run Section. As Michael entered the room. His new space, he was startled to see that he was not alone. Might have expected Madeline to be there, but it was Walter who greeted him. "You grew your hair back," Walter stated, a smile trembling on his lips as he studied Michael. "Nikita would have liked that." "Hello, Walter," Michael replied, unwilling to say more. But Walter knew the truth. He always had. Michael loving Nikita had never been a secret. Not from anyone but himself. Walter swallowed hard. He wanted to hug Michael but didn't know if it would be accepted. Nikita had changed him in the two years they had been a couple. But her death had changed Michael yet again. Had changed them all. This Michael was different from all the others. Stronger yet more fragile. Warmer, yet cold. A body without a heart. Michael was living, but he was not alive. Not without Nikita. And yet Walter sensed that what beat inside Michael's chest was the heart of Nikita. Her soul kept Michael alive. Her body had been buried in the cold, hard, ground. But her spirit was cherished by the man in black. "Welcome back, Michael," Walter whispered. Michael made the next move. He took a step forward and embraced Walter. Found himself needing the old man's strength. "Thank you," he replied, grateful that Walter hadn't welcomed him *home*. "I should go back to work," Walter said, a long moment later. Only after he was certain Michael could stand on his own. And that he could as well. The two men had needed each other to lean on for a time. But the time had passed. It was time to move on. "Briefing in twenty minutes," Michael stated, slipping his mask into place. It wasn't the mask he used to wear. Nikita had ripped that one to shreds. This mask was without expression, but Michael's eyes were no longer blank. They glimmered with wisdom and pain. He wanted people to see that. To know that he had changed. To remember who had changed him. He was Nikita's living legacy and he would do her justice. Walter found that his smile no longer trembled. Having Michael in this place felt right. Things would change and it made his heart glad to know that the change would come about, in part, because of Nikita. She had left her mark. Her light would never fade for it burned in Michael's eyes. She was angel watching over them all. But she was Michael's guardian angel, as once he had been hers. "I'll see you later," Walter said, then he exited the room. Alone now, Michael moved to stand at the windows. Clasped his hands in front of him and glanced down at his domain. "Our domain," he whispered, as the image of Nikita filled his mind. Michael closed his eyes, wanting to cling to her memory. But he had work to do. Their work. And so it began. ***** Michael stood at her gravesite. It had been two years since her death. Change had come to Section One. Good changes. Michael believed that Nikita would be pleased. Proud of him even. He wanted to believe that. And so it was that he laid a red rose on the headstone and remembered the day she had died. Nikita had chosen the way she had lived, and so it was no surprise that he had chosen the way she would die. They had been on a mission. An infiltration into a research laboratory. It should have been a simple in and out. Perimeter team had watched their backs as Michael and Nikita retrieved top secret files then had set explosives. It was Birkhoff who had announced the hostile. A guard. Nikita had seen him taking aim on Michael. She had fired but her gun had jammed. Michael had been at the computer. He had needed ten more seconds to delete the file. Had been unaware of being targeted until he heard the shot. Had turned to see Nikita fall. She was standing between him and the guard. Michael saw the red that stained her hair and his arm had raised. He shot the guard without seeing him, his eyes had been locked on Nikita. "One minute," Birkhoff had warned. The sequence for the explosion had begun. Michael had wanted to remain behind. To die with Nikita. Even before he had fallen to his knees at her side, he had known she was dead. The bullet had passed though her throat. But innocent lives were at stake. Section needed the information on the disk that Michael had just downloaded. Nikita had made her choice, now Michael had to make his. But he refused to leave her there, so with Nikita slung over his shoulder, Michael had run for the exit. He still didn't remember the ride back to Section. Sounds and voices had been an abstract buzz around him as Michael held Nikita in his arms and rocked her. He had even covered her with a blanket as if she would feel the cold. Once they had reached Section, he had carried her inside. Madeline and a med team had been waiting for them. Michael had let Nikita be taken. Had seen Operations standing in the background and had stepped forward to hand him the disk. Then Madeline had been there, taking Michael by the hand and leading him off. He had expected to debrief, but she had taken him to his inside quarters. Michael vaguely remembered showering and dressing in his civilian clothes. There was no sign of his field gear, but blood stains on the floor had been a reminder. Nikita's blood. Nikita's death. "What now?" Michael had asked. Madeline had been holding a syringe. She pushed Michael down onto his bed and injected him and he had been grateful for the darkness. For within the darkness had been the light, and in his dreams Nikita had been alive. Afterwards they had sent him on leave, then came the announcement of Operations' heart attack and death. Then Michael's designation to Operations of Section One, his training period, his return to the Section, and now all had come full circle. "I remember all that you've taught me, Nikita," Michael whispered, as he knelt beside her grave. It was night time and the sky was filled with bright stars. Nikita would have loved them. Michael closed his eyes and she stood before him, beautiful and glowing. "Things have changed in Section, as have I. But one thing will remain the same. My love for you. It grows stronger with every beat of my heart. You are with me Nikita. And some day...we will be together again. In spirit." With that Michael rose to his feet and walked away. No need to look back for Nikita was not standing there watching him go. She was walking beside him. His angel of the night. And Michael was the night, yet he no longer walked in darkness. BACK TO AUTHOR'S S-T LFN STORYBOARD ARCHIVES MAIN PAGE LFN LINKS PAGE Send suggestions or comments to Shelly