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. with Laura The twinkling lights of the canal off the Potomac often reminded people of times long past....when it was a bustling seaport of old, the first settled sector in what would become the growing nation's capitol. Back in George Washington's era, it was a place full of academia's and satisfied, rich snobs....and not much has changed today. It still encompasses the mentality and the cherished exclusivity of New York's Central Park South....a hubbub of Washington's powerful elite. Senator Michael Kissinger was one of this town's most powerful men. A distant cousin of the infamous Kissingers of this area, he and his new wife, Maude, had been born, bred, and raised within this quaint community. He had grown up with a silver spoon in his mouth...but it was never enough. He was greedy....and he often let his quest for more wealth...more power...cloud his judgment. At the stroke of midnight, he waited at the bank along the C & O Canal, pondering how the canal was over two centuries ago...during a time when men went after they wanted...before bureaucracy had turned the quest for power into a slow walk hindered by a mile of red tape. A figure emerged from the shadows and he smiled...his young page had done his job well....in his hand, he held a disk which could secure Kissinger's place as a world leader for a long time. Something which could make him, and his colleagues, very, very rich. "Thank you Jason," he whispered as the young man nervously handed him the disk. Kissinger slipped it into his jacket pocket and turned away. Suddenly a shot rang out....and he smiled. Turning slowly, he saw Jason floating upright within the water...and he knew that his ‘new' page had done his job well. He left the floating corpse with the bullet between his eyes lying in the water as he walked away. He looked up to the barge and gave a salute before getting in his Mercedes. The figure he had saluted, turned and slowly removed her mask....allowing her flowing auburn hair to catch in the wind. She replaced the small gun back into her purse and then strolled away. She was confident that in the shadows of the dark canal, nobody had seen either her or her lover...she could not have been more wrong. ()Section One() Nikita groaned as she rested her feet upon the briefing table, leaning back slowly in her chair in a manner which she knew would annoy the hell out of Operations. It was only 6am in the morning...and she had only gotten back from a mission at 3am. Sleep was something which was eluding her these days and she wanted nothing more than to crawl up on the briefing and take a nap, right in front of everybody. Madeline reached over and gently pushed her legs off the table and gave her a warning look...today was not the day to annoy Ops. She had known something was up as soon as she had entered section that morning. Smacking her gum slowly, she listened as the perturbed leader began the briefing. "I'm glad we all could make it this morning. Nikita, nice to see that you're on time. Before I begin, I'd like to say this is of a very serious matter...the powers that be are really riding us on this one, we have no room for mistakes. So we all need to pay attention. Michael....that includes you." Operations threw down his pencil and glared long enough for the handsome young operative to turn his head and Ops nearly smiled at the expression in Michael's wide eyes. Operations was thinking of putting Nikita's chair in front, beside him, that way Michael could spend at least some of his time looking in the direction of the vid-screen instead of trying to burn a hole in her head with those penetrating eyes of his. As Operations continued his speech while still glancing over at Michael periodically, Nikita had to stifle a small laugh. She had been aware that he had been watching her, mostly because she had been staring at him too. But she was less obvious about it, she did not want him to know her feelings....he might manipulate them again and she wasn't so sure she could withstand another round of playing this game with Michael. But she couldn't help watching him...knowing he was there gave her a sense of comfort....despite herself. She didn't know whether to love him or hate him....so she just....stared. "A disk containing pertinent information vital to western interests has been stolen from inside the State department. Luckily for us, we know who has it. A page of Senator Michael Kissinger was seen exiting the department around the time the information was stolen. He was then seen delivering the disk to this man....Kissinger. Now, what we don't know is where Kissinger has hidden the disk nor who allowed the page to get into such a high security area. The department is not known for lax security...therefore someone on the inside had to get him in. Our job is not only to retrieve the disk but find out who this person is and stop them from releasing any further information." "When do we leave?" Nikita asked Madeline, breaking in with a question after Operations had seemingly walked away from the table. "Not yet, Nikita," Madeline answered with a firm tone. Operations replied with two folders and placed them in front of Michael and Nikita. "Senator Kissinger is not known as a ‘mushy' type of man. He has a mistress...and his wife is fully aware of that. He does not seem to hold a soft spot in his heart for anybody...or so we thought. Turns out, we have found a weakness. His first wife had a son....she ran off with him when the boy was five and he has not heard from him since. He loved that little boy...always doted on him. And he and his new wife, with whom he has a three month old daughter with, have never stopped searching for him. That little boy's name was Michael. And according to photographs...he had auburn hair and hazel eyes." He glanced over at Michael, who was sorting through the photos and the plan began to sink at once. Nikita's first reaction was to think of Helen....and the time she had pretended to be her long-lost daughter. Now the roles were reversed. She wondered what role she had to play in this...was she to be his wife? His girlfriend? "Leader of the Legion Faction in DC?" she murmured as she glanced down at the papers in her hand. She glanced over at Michael and was surprised to see him lean over and look at the envelope in her hand....he was obviously stunned himself. "Yes. You see, there hasn't been one in years; we shut them down about ten years ago. You will work with some of our other operatives and set one up there...you will be their new leader...so to speak. Michael will need a diversion...in order to get close to this couple. You will be that diversion. Legion is one such organization known to be after such documents and it wouldn't be out of the question for them to go after the disk themselves. And so you will. Even if you have to resort to kidnapping...but we will go into those details when the time comes. Michael, you and Birkhoff will leave on a plane in two hours. Nikita, go and assemble a team, and you will leave in five. Review your tactical and be ready to leave. Good luck...and I won't remind you of just how important this mission is." "Michael...I have a question..." Michael glanced up from his computer at which he was going over many of the characteristics he was supposed to share with Kissinger. "What is it?" he replied, his voice void of any emotion. Nikita noticed the slight chill in his voice and ignored it. His little "peep-show" during the briefing gave her the courage to do this...to gather up the guts to say good-bye to his face and not wait until one of them was six feet under before admitting that she was worried. And that's all it was....she was just...worried. She kept trying to convince herself as she walked into the office and stood beside him and his computer. She just wanted to see what he was staring at....that was it. Nothing more.... "I just wanted to...wish you luck." Nikita drawled as she leaned over and ‘focused' on the computer screen. "Nikita...what do you really want?" Michael asked...after having watched her stare at a blank screen for a long thirty seconds. He had turned off the computer as soon as she had walked in....and now she was using it as a ‘shield' so to speak. Catching her faux paus Nikita straightened up and looked down at him. Swallowing whatever pride she had left, she bent over, gave him a swift kiss on the cheek and told him to "Be careful." Then she exited the room at warp speed...leaving behind Michael with a shocked...but very bemused...expression on his face. "You too." Michael had been enrolled in the George Washington University Law School for two weeks when the limo pulled up beside him. Michael had already been informed that the private investigator had learned about him....a foreign exchange student from France who had transferred here for this final year of Law School. And according to their records, Patricia Kissinger had taken her son to France when he was twelve years ago. "Get in," came a command from inside the limo and Michael knew that if this boy was anything like Kissinger, he would not automatically follow instructions. "Do I look like a street hustler to you? Get out of my way," Michael demanded in a very thickly accented language. He began to turn away from the limo when he felt cold steel pressed to his head. "Get in." the voice repeated. "All you had to do was ask," Michael quipped, as he felt two strong arms shove him into the limo. The door slammed and he found himself being escorted off the GWU campus... Suddenly, row houses surrounded him and he saw the distant glimmer of the Potomac in the distance...he knew now that he was officially in Georgetown. As the limo pulled up to a very expensive, very old looking townhouse, he knew the mission had begun. Michael had come home. Michael struggled as the two men led him up the walk. As the door opened and the man Michael knew to be Kissinger stepped out, Michael reached to the guard standing beside him and did a swift ridge hand to his nose, knocking him to the ground. At the same time, he back fisted the man standing directly behind him...then he turned and ran towards the car. "Stop him," he heard Kissinger shout and he suddenly found himself surrounded by four men with guns. He slowly turned and glared at the man he would for the next month call Father. "What do you want....Kissinger" he hissed at the man who came to stand right in front of him. He found himself staring into a very similar pair of hazel eyes and to an innocent bystander; these two could easily be mistaken for father and son. "I see you know some martial arts and are not afraid to use them," Kissinger bellowed, pacing around Michael and inspecting him. He was very impressed by what he had just saw...reminded him of his younger years when he had attended Georgetown University, he had been a champion boxer. His P.I. had informed him almost as soon as Michael's name had been put into the records at GWU. Some governmental red-tape had prevented him from searching exactly where in France Pat had taken their child, but instead of having to hire a bunch of P.I.'s to go searching through the French countryside...Michael had come to him. "I'm not a wimp...unlike some people, I don't run away from my problems." he replied, looking up at the front door as he sensed some movement. Suddenly the door cracked open and he saw a woman in her late thirties emerge....caring a bundle in her arms. That would be Maude and Megan...and he offered the woman a slight reassuring smile. After all, Michael would have no anger towards her...or her child....his half-sister. But instead direct it all to the man in front of him...whom the real Michael had been told had abandoned him and his mother years ago. "I see you have her fiery temper, eh boy? But I hate to burst your bubble but I didn't leave your mother...she left me. She ran off with you when you were just a little boy. Despite what you may think, I have been looking for you for many years. It was just by a twist of fate that you transferred to GWU." "You may have been looking for me, but I haven't been looking for you. I don't want anything from you...just to be left alone." Kissinger smiled at this and chuckled...then he slid his arm around Maude who approached from behind him. "Everybody always wants something. If you weren't looking for me, why did you come here? Of all places? Come on....let's go in for something to drink and get acquainted. You can also meet your little sister, Megan. And your new step-mother...Maude." He gestured for Maude to step forward and she placed a tentative kiss on Michael's cheek. "Welcome home, Michael." Michael gazed down into her trusting brown eyes and felt himself flinch....this woman was not a part of this, he was sure of it. She gazed at her husband with nothing but love in her eyes and the little girl in her arm was being held like a precious gem. He noticed the little girl's failing arms towards him and he held Maude's gaze again. "May I?" "Of course," she said, putting the baby in his arms. A tremor of emotions burst through him as he held the baby to his chest. It had been so long since he had held a child...any child. Ever since his own son had died...no, been murdered...many years ago, he had withheld himself from children. But it felt so right...as if she belonged in his arms. Her light blue eyes stared up at him in awe and he could not stop this vision which entered his head....of him and Nikita sitting in his office with a little girl in his arms...their little girl. But that could never be...shaking way such foolish thoughts he looked up and stared at Kissinger. Megan cooed and snuggled down into his arms and he felt Maude grab his arm and lead him towards the house. Michael stopped and turned to look at her. "I should leave," he said, handing the little girl back over to her and starting to turn away. "Michael...just come in and talk...just for a little while," Maude pleaded...while Kissinger looked on. He didn't want Michael to go either but he had too much pride to beg...Maude, however, didn't. He knew Michael was filled with many years of anger towards him...and he couldn't blame him, god only knew what lies she had filled his mind with. If Michael would only give him a chance....he would try and make up for years of ‘abandonment.' Kissinger smiled slightly to himself as he watched Michael take Megan from Maude's arm and lead her through the doorway. His son had finally come home. Maude smiled as she led Michael into the family room. It was her favorite place in the house and she hoped that Michael would feel welcome here. After all, this was going to be his new home. She gestured for him to sit down on the cushioned sofa, and he did so, adjusting Megan in his arms appropriately. He was good with babies. That pleased Maude. She liked Michael. Her instincts told her that he was good people. She saw intelligence glimmering in his beautiful, hazel eyes, and it was obvious that he had spirit......he also reminded her of someone...but she could not put her finger upon it. He was also quite gorgeous, but Maude sensed that he lacked any vanity. A smile tugged her lips. His father was vain enough for them both. Michael saw that Maude was watching him, and he didn't mind her perusal. It was friendly, warm and curious. No hidden meaning behind it. She was being open with him, so he smiled back at her. "You have a beautiful daughter," Michael said softly, remembering to thicken his accent. In truth, it wasn't difficult to do. He always had to concentrate NOT to have such a heavy accent when he spoke. "Thank you, Michael," Maude replied. "Your sister is in love with you already. She has good instinct about people." "You might be surprised," Michael couldn't resist responding. He handed Megan back to her mother, then rose to his feet to confront Kissinger. "What do you expect from me?" he inquired, letting his eyes grow cold. Madeline had instructed Michael to make Kissinger work for his affections. So be it. It wasn't hard to be cold to the man, knowing that he cheated on his wife along with his other dirty dealings. Kissinger smiled at his son. He respected Michael's caution, even approved of it. He would make a fine lawyer. He certainly had the grades for it. That, Kissinger had learned from a copy of Michael's transcripts. 4.0 grade point average each semester for the past seven years. Kissinger was proud of him. Michael was everything he had hoped his son would be, and more. His ex-wife had done well raising him. That much he would concede her. Now he reached out to put a hand on Michael's shoulder. "I only want the chance to get to know you, Michael," he admitted. "And for you to get to know me, and the rest of your family." "Hmmm...." Michael drawled, stepping away from Kissinger's touch. "And what if I don't want to get to know you?" he countered, somewhat belligerently. "My family was my mother. She died two years ago." "You must miss her," Maude interjected, her eyes shining with compassion. Michael turned to smile at Kissinger's wife. "I do," he allowed, hating having to lie to Maude. She was such an innocent in all of this. At the thought, Michael almost grimaced. Nikita was truly rubbing off on him. Kissinger was angry. He moved forward to confront Michael. "I'm your family too!" he hissed, his hazel eyes flashing. "I'm your father." "I have no father," Michael drawled, his face expressionless and his tone frosty. He turned to Maude. "It was nice meeting you, and Megan. But I'm going to go now." Michael turned back and was about to take a step when he found himself slammed back against the wall. Kissinger was in his face. "Back off," Michael warned, the softness of his tone belying his anger. "You're not going anywhere!" Kissinger growled. "I've spent twenty years trying to find you, Michael. I won't just let you walk away." Michael laughed, a humorless sound. He wondered what Kissinger would think if he knew that Michael could have broken his neck without blinking and simply walked away. But he pushed aside such thoughts to play his part. "You don't own me," Michael shot back, his eyes flashing. "And you can't keep me here against my will." The last he tossed out as a challenge. Michael was curious to see just how far Kissinger would go. The senator was a determined man. He hit a button on the pager his wore on his belt and two men entered the room. They were the two guards Michael had taken down, and they were pissed. "Take my son to his room," Kissinger ordered. Maude was horrified. She pleaded with her husband. "You can't keep him here if he doesn't want to stay," she insisted. "I can do whatever I want," Kissinger hissed, glaring at his wife. He signaled to his men. "You heard me." Michael let himself be lead off, only because he didn't want to create a scene that would upset Maude, and the baby. So he climbed the stairs, marched down the hall and entered the luxurious bedroom suite. He was amused when the guards left, closing the door and locking it behind him. Michael went over to the windows and discovered they were sealed. The double doors leading to the balcony would be simple to open, but Michael left them intact. Moving to the bed, he stretched out on it and closed it eyes. Phase one was complete. Operations would be pleased. Three days later, Michael was playing with Megan in the sunroom. He had been let out of his room after the first day and now had free reign of the house and grounds. That was all due to Maude. The first night she had come to his room with mugs of hot chocolate and they had talked until dawn. She had convinced him to stay for a while, so now Michael was free. Maude had gone out shopping, and Kissinger was at his office, so Michael had offered to watch Megan while the Nanny ran some errands. She would be due back any minute. As if on cue, the dark-haired, Asian woman entered the room. Michael picked up Megan, who cooed at him, and was about to hand her over when he sensed that something was wrong. "Take Megan and lock yourself in the pantry," he told Lea. She frowned at him. "What's wrong, Mr. Michael?" she asked. That was her name for him. "Just do as I say," Michael countered, handing Megan over, then nudging Lea out of the room. He then went to the window and checked for the guards. They weren't at their posts. Michael grimaced. He knew what was coming. Time for Nikita to make her appearance. Michael had known that she, and the other operatives, would be making their appearance. But he hadn't known when, or what their plans were. Madeline felt it had been best to keep him in the dark. "I'm home!" Kissinger's voice rang out as he entered the house from the side entrance. He had taken a dinner break to spend some more time with Michael. "Where is everyone?" he asked, his footsteps echoing on the parquet floors. Michael sighed, preparing himself for what was about to come. Then he put a smile on his face and went out to face his father. But even as the two men greeted each other. All hell broke loose. The front door burst open and four men rushed in, holding Mac 10's. From another part of the house came others and they had M-16's. Kissinger was stunned, and then he was angry. "What the hell is going on here?" he shouted, only to fall silent as a rifle butt connected with his temple. He collapsed to the floor. "Care to join him?" drawled a husky, feminine voice from behind Michael. He whirled around to see Nikita walking towards him. She was in fatigues and snapping a wad of gum. Michael watched her stand over Kissinger and smile down at his body. "Who are you, and what do you want?" Michael hissed at Nikita, carefully playing his part. Already, Kissinger was stirring. Nikita reached out and let her fingertips brush Michael's cheek, then she grinned. "Let's just say I'm not the Avon lady. Now....let's see if you take a hit better than you're daddy, shall we?" Gesturing to the other operatives who made up her faction, Nikita spouted orders. "Bind them and take them into the living room. It's time to have some fun." The crystal chandelier sparkled like a million diamonds reflecting the ray of the afternoon sun as it penetrated down through the awesome skylight at the roof of the living room. Nikita watched for a moment as the light speared through every corner of the room, illuminating the expensive tapestries which donned the large room....her mind struggling to distract itself as she forced herself to look at the giant operative standing beside Michael. The room was similar to Helens living room...this whole setup was similar...yet this time Michael was on the receiving end of the beating. And she feared for herself more than him at that moment, she feared for her soul. Because a part of her was looking forward to this...it was seeking revenge. Avoiding Michael's penetrating eyes, she nodded and the man stepped forward and grabbed Michael's hair, pulling his head back. She watched in silence as the man on the other side of him threw two swift roundhouse kicks into Michael's bare chest. Nikita didn't outwardly flinch as the hard boot hit soft flesh....but a part of her was dying with each kick. She watched as the second man punched Michael hard after each kick....just to make sure that Michael did not try and lose consciousness. She watched as Michael visibly paled and a trickle of blood escaped his mouth....step one was complete. "What the hell do you want?" the now slightly conscious Senator murmured. He was dying as he watched Michael slump forward somewhat, and he could already see bruising begin to form on his chest. He was worried that it was a result of a punctured lung or broken ribs. He hadn't spent twenty damn years to watch his son die in front of him....he would do whatever it took to free him. "Your precious son now has at least two broken ribs, your highness. Tell us where to find the disk...or we'll break every bone in his body....but first we will have some fun with him....and maybe you later. Bubba over here always did have a soft spot for old, handsome men with power. At least he did after he escaped from Prison." Nikita walked over to the larger man standing in the back of the room and ruffled his hair, Bubba winked at Kissinger, and Nikita almost smiled when Kissinger's face crinkled with disgust. "Disk? I don't know what disk you're talking about. Let my son go now! I'll give you anything...anything you want. But I don't know anything about a disk." Kissinger would beg for his life...and for Michael's...but there was no way in hell he was going to give them the disk. He had worked too hard and waited too long for such an opportunity. Nikita watched as Kissinger tried to hop his chair over to Michael and she ran over and topped his chair to the ground...with Kissinger sitting now on his side. "How touching. But I wouldn't do that if I were you....and besides. We are not stupid. We know you have the disk....where is it?" "No...." Kissinger pleaded again, his eyes boring into Nikitas. He wasn't going to allow her to have the disk, but he didn't want to be harmed either. She could spot the lie in his eyes....but his glances toward Michael were also genuine, he honestly cared for him...had come to accept him as his son. Nikita wanted more than anything to call off the goons and walk out of the room....forcing herself to remember what swine Kissinger really was the only way to allow her mind to shift back onto the mission. "Screw with pretty boy's face...then kill him" she drawled as she glared down at Kissinger. The words had just tumbled out; she didn't even know she had said them until she turned to find the operatives withdrawing switchblades from their pack. She watched as Michael struggled in his seat like a trapped animal, he was obviously still playing with this role. The larger operative struck him in the face hard with his gun....causing Michael's face to jerk harshly to the side and it looked for a moment as if he had lost consciousness. She thought she heard the soft cry of a baby in the background...and it caused unconscious tears to form in her eyes and her breath to catch in her throat. Hearing the small child, watching the blood trickle from his nose, combined with the blood from his mouth and the bruising of his ribs proved to be too much for Nikita. Kicking Kissinger in the head and knocking him out cold, she raced forward and reached to clasp the wrist of the man fixing to swing the blade across Michael's face. He tried to shove her away but she kneed him in the groin, bringing him to the ground. She would find a way to make Michael's face to look like mincemeat (via, makeup or something) later, but for now, she was not going to allow anybody to touch him. "What...." was all she heard as she glanced down to lock eyes with Michael. She didn't hear the gunfire all around her nor see an auburn-haired woman step up behind her. Hazel eyes staring down into blue were the only thing she was aware of before she fell down into a sea of darkness. Michael watched as the guards cleared out all the operatives except Nikita. By the badges and marks on her shirt, it was obvious that she was leader of this little instigation, and that was obviously the only reason she had not been taken down during the shooting. The auburn haired woman, Izzy, had been introduced to him two days ago as not only their neighbor, but his father's new ‘page' as well. But Michael also knew that this stunning woman whom had ordered Nikita to be tied up in the basement was also his father's mistress. There was also one other obvious problem, Izzy was attracted to Kissinger's son as well. As soon as the shooting had finished, she had ordered the guards to take Kissinger to his bedroom and lie him down. Then she had walked over and began untying Michael herself....taking her time untying him as her fingers ran all over his chest and through his silky hair. But he was unaware of his own injuries, his only care and interest was Nikita. He watched as her limp form had been picked up, slung over one guard's shoulder, and carried down into the basement....his face void of expression but his insides churning. He had a very bad feeling about this....he would have to help her escape....as soon as possible. "I need to get you to the nearest hospital..." Izzy declared as Michael slung his arm over her shoulder and allowed her to help him to the staircases. But Michael had had broken ribs before...they were not broken, just badly bruised if anything. There was no reason to go to the hospital. He just wanted to go up to the safety of his large room and think...about how to rescue Nikita. Nikita had allowed her emotions to interfere with the mission, not that he could automatically blame her. When he had been in a similar position, he had nearly blown the mission himself, stepping forward to stop the man from shooting Nikita in the chest right before Helen had confessed. Had Izzy and her small army not shown up when they did, Nikita would have blown the mission for sure. But all the witnesses but he and she were dead...and he would claim that they were fixing to cut him, when Izzy stormed the living room. Section One would never know. "I'm fine...just get me to my bedroom." Michael accentuated very heavily....knowing that it would distract her. And it did. "You're right....Let me help you get to you to your bedroom and I can help...bind your wounds." Izzy purred. Michael flinched underneath her touch and grabbed onto the stairwell for support. "I don't have any wounds for you to bind." "Well, I guess I'll just have to...bind something else," Izzy whispered into his ear as her hand brushed his behind. Michael almost ran up the stairs at that point...but figured he had better play it coy...for now. "Maybe later. It's been a long day and I just need a nap." "Why not? Your father will be unconscious for quite a while....probably have to stay in bed at least a couple of days. You and I could make...ample use of the time." Michael just grinned down slyly at her, willing to play along with her game, teasing her just a bit. "Ask me tomorrow. Besides, I thought it was your job to make ample use of my father's time. Or has all that binding worn him out?" He turned and then slowly hobbled up the staircase, leaving behind a very bemused...yet slightly frustrated Izzy. "Touché." Michael allowed himself five hours of much needed rest, and then lay on his bed gathering his strength for what was to come. Maude had come in briefly to bring him something to eat, and she had tears in her eyes as she struggled to understand what had transpired here today. She had come home and the house had been straightened like nothing had ever happened...but she had spotted a few bullet holes in the living room. Then she had discovered her husband and step-son were injured. She had made a pledge to never leave the house again. Only after Michael's reassuring words did the tears calm and Maude get up to and check on Kissinger. It was nearing midnight and Michael knew that he had a very limited window of opportunity to help Nikita escape. She was down in the basement being held for questioning....for Izzy was sure that Kissinger would want to interview this blond terrorist later and discover her motive for breaking in and attempting to kill them. He didn't know what condition he would find her in, nor even if she was still alive. All he knew was that he had to try to help her escape....and have her report to Section that Kissinger was near breaking but somehow security had been lax. He knew that Operations would not allow either of them to return without the disk, so Nikita would have to hang low for a while. He had a feeling that if anybody could help him get to the disk, Izzy could. And she was obviously willing to buy into whatever story he might cook up, and despite how much he would hate to use this plan, it was the only way. For both him and Nikita. Hearing Megan's loud cries alerted him to the fact that it was time to make his move. After walking in and assuring Maude that he had taken care of Megan and that she was fast asleep, he informed her that he was going for a walk. She gave him the access code to the security system so he could get out of the house without being electrocuted or shot and told him to be safe. He descended the staircase with the speed of a panther...and only hoped he wasn't too late. Nikita lifted her head as she heard pounding footsteps overheard. She hoped that it was Michael coming to rescue her from this stupid predicament but her cynical side told her to get real. If it was part of the mission for her to be captured, there was no way that he would blow his cover just to save her from yet another stupid blunder. But it wasn't a stupid blunder she reminded herself as she thought of the way his silver-green eyes had borne into hers before she had been hit from behind. Despite his attitude that he was superman and could withstand any pain, she could see that he was hurting. And despite herself....his pain was her pain. And she had learned much since her run-in with Helen over a year ago. Michael would go out of his way to make sure nothing happened to her....he always had. She couldn't allow some twisted need for revenge get in the way, and especially not like this. As she stared into the dark room, an over-powering emotion overtook her as she thought of how she had come this close to killing him. Was she becoming like Section? Like.... A pair of soft but strong hands jolted her out of reverie. They cupped her face and she felt his thumbs wiping away the tears from her eyes. "I'm sorry...." was all she could think to say as she felt a familiar pair of lips press themselves to her forehead, then her eyelids...down to her cheeks...then finally pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. The moment was so intense between them that she was almost grateful when Michael pulled away suddenly and began working on her ropes. His voice sounded machine like once again as he explained the situation to her in hushed whispers. "Don't be, you did your job." "But Michael, I screwed up. I nearly cost..." As he threw the remaining rope to the ground, he grabbed her hand and lifted her to her feet. He was thankful that she could stand on her own....and upon feeling her face he could only detect slight bruising. In the darkness he could not see the extent of what they had done to her, but he had seen that it was light. They needed her in good shape for her interrogation. "No you didn't Nikita. Listen to me. You told Saunders to mess up my face, and then kill me. He proceeded to when Izzy and some unknown guards came in and killed everyone but you. You were captured, yet you escaped, so that they could not press you for any information. Understand?" Nikita slumped slightly in his arms as he drew her towards the opened window which he knew would lead to the outside premises. A quick call to Birkhoff had removed the main guard and so he would be home free to get Nikita at least to the street and help her escape. She nodded her understanding but in the dark light she remembered he could not see her. "Fine. But why are you doing this?" He remained quiet as he pushed her through the small window and onto the grounds, then he slowly followed. He waited until they were within the shadow of a giant tree and then whispered towards her. "Later. We're going to part ways here, I'm going to go walking in the general direction of the canals, you go the other way, and Birkhoff will meet you near the University. Meet me tomorrow night under the canal near the Francis Scott Key memorial bridge. Midnight." She looked off towards the giant brilliance of Georgetown University as it was illuminated by the lights of the campus. "Thank you." She turned and began casually walking away when she heard him whisper in the darkness...."Take care love." He watched her pause for a moment and then resume her walk towards the campus. He knew she would be safe....in that quick phone call to Birkhoff; he had also informed him that Nikita would meet him at 12:30am. He shivered slightly within the cold breeze and then glanced in the directions of the canal. Should he be able to establish a pattern of going for walks down by the river, it would make it more believable that he would go there every night...or as long as it took. Despite himself, he couldn't let a single day go bye without at least talking to Nikita...knowing she was safe. Michael laughed at his pathetic ability to barely even go a day without seeing her beautiful face. Or as Birkhoff often teased him...."he couldn't go without his daily fix." Stopping at the water's edge, he found himself noticing for the first time in many years the way the stars twinkled in the night sky, the way the water rippled slightly in the wind, and he glanced towards the bridge at which tomorrow night at this time he would meet Nikita. He found himself thinking about the future for the first time in three long years. It was nearly two AM when Michael returned to the house. He was exhausted and in pain, but relieved that Nikita was safe. As he entered his bedroom, he longed only for sleep, but that was not to be. Reclining on his bed was Izzy. The beautiful redhead was wearing a white teddy and smiling at Michael. "Hello handsome," she purred. "Where have you been? I've been waiting for you." "I went for a walk," Michael replied, and was glad that it was the truth. "What are you doing here, Izzy?" he countered. He knew that he would need her help to get the disk, but he wasn't prepared to deal with her so soon. "I was lonely," Izzy replied, sliding off the bed and moving over to Michael. She let her fingers tangle in his thick hair. Michael allowed it, but his eyes were frosty as he asked, "Where's my father? Bet he's lonely too." It galled Michael to no end that Izzy was so bold in the house that Kissinger shared with Maude, his wife. It mattered not that Maude was aware of Izzy, and accepted her as a part of her husband's life. Michael found himself wanting to strangle the woman. Besides which, if Michael hadn't freed Nikita, he had no doubt that Izzy would have tortured and killed her. Playing up to her was not going to be easy. Izzy let her hands slide down to Michael's chest, feeling him flinch when she brushed over his sore ribs. "You're father is busy," she whispered, leaning forward to steal a kiss. "He wouldn't like you being here," Michael countered, kissing her back. "I'm not going to tell him....are you?" Izzy laughed and took a step back so that she could slip the straps of her teddy off her shoulders, to reveal perfect, full breasts. Michael could admire Izzy's beauty, but it didn't affect him. She was a cold, emotionless woman. The irony of that did not escape Michael, for he saw himself as a cold, emotionless man. It never ceased to amaze him that someone as warm and passionate as Nikita could be attracted to him. But he was glad that she was. "It's late, Izzy," Michael said, turning away from her as a blatant dismissal of her, considerable, charms. "I'm tired." She was angry at Michael's blatant disinterest in her, but put it down to his pain and weariness. He had suffered a shock just a few hours ago and would need time to recover. Izzy was good at being patient. "Get some sleep, Michael," she said, pulling her top back up then walking over to the door. "We'll....talk....later." And, with that, she was gone. "Merde..." Michael whispered as he lay down on the bed. He pulled a pillow over his face and closed his eyes. It wouldn't be long until Nikita's absence was discovered, and all hell would break loose. But, in spite of that thought, Michael drifted quickly into slumber. It was after eight am when Michael heard a voice calling his name. It was Kissinger. Michael opened his eyes and went to sit up, but pain rippled through him, making him hiss. "Easy," Kissinger drawled, placing a hand on his son's shoulder to keep him down. "Rest, Michael. I just wanted to ask you a question." "About what?" Michael countered, knowing that a confrontation between him and Kissinger had been imminent. They had to know about Nikita by now. Kissinger sighed. "That woman....the blond....who tortured us last night. She's gone," he reported. Michael frowned, playing his part well. "Gone? What do you mean? I thought you had her locked up in the basement?" "We did," Kissinger allowed. "Somehow she escaped. I just wanted you to know. But I don't want you to worry, Michael. I won't let anyone hurt you, ever again." Not for one minute did the senator believe that Michael had been involved in Nikita's escape. "I'm not worried," Michael replied, offering a smile. He brushed aside Kissinger's hand, and cautiously sat up. "Can I ask you a question?" The senator nodded. "Of course, Michael. Anything." That was all the invitation Michael needed. "What was the disk that woman was looking for? It must be very important. She was willing to kill for it." "It was nothing," Kissinger replied....too quickly. He moved away from the bed. "I have to go to the office. Take it easy today, Michael. And call me if you need anything." With that, the senator slipped out of the room. "Right," Michael drawled, as he slid out of bed. He needed a hot shower and something to eat. Then he would find a way to kill time until midnight....and Nikita. Michael hadn't given Nikita a specific place to meet at the bridge, but instinct led her down to the canals. One of them stretched directly under the bridge, where the bridge and the land met. There was a small cushion of land that was hidden from prying eyes, and Nikita sank down upon velvet soft grass to wait. She didn't realize that she was bathed in a golden glow, for the lights along the canal were reflected off the water, giving her hideaway a surreal appearance. That was the impression Michael had, as he moved towards Nikita. Somehow he had known to look for her here. The place of light....surrounded by shadows. It symbolized Nikita's existence in Section One. But Michael pushed such thoughts aside as he ran forward to greet. When she saw him, Nikita rose to her feet. She wanted to fall into Michael's arms, but felt that he would consider that inappropriate, so she settled for smiling at him. "You made it," Nikita said, stating the obvious. She felt nervous suddenly. Michael nodded. "How are you?" he asked. She looked beautiful. She was wearing a long, black skirt, black sweater and boots. In contrast, her pale hair seemed luminous. Especially in the golden glow that haloed them. "I'm fine," Nikita replied. Then she bit her lip. She was remembering the beating she had ordered upon Michael. "What about you?" Nikita countered. "Have you been to see a doctor?" Even as she asked it, she knew it was a stupid question. Michael had little use for doctors. "I'll be okay," Michael said softly. He took a step forward, drawn to her in spite of himself. They should have been discussing business, but all he could think about was how beautiful Nikita was. And how much he wanted to kiss her. Nikita was thinking the same thing, and as Michael moved towards her, it spurred her into action. Without thinking, she buried her fingers in his hair, something she had been longing to do for forever, and then she melded her lips to his. Michael was surprised by the intensity of the kiss, but quickly responded to it. His tongue met Nikita's as his arms wrapped around her slender waist, pressing her tightly against him. Michael felt the heat of her through their clothes, and suddenly he was desperate to feel her softness. With a moan of desire, he broke the kiss and stepped back. "Nikita...." Michael whispered her name, soft as a melody, as he reached out and grasped the edges of her sweater. A moment later he drew it over her head. She wasn't wearing a bra, so her small, perfect, breasts were revealed to his hungry gaze. "Michael...." It was Nikita's turn to sigh his name as his mouth closed over one nipple and he gently suckled it to a hard bud. As he tugged on it gently with his teeth, Nikita could feel the pull all the way to her groin. A moment later she caught her breath as she felt her skirt fall away. She stepped out of it willingly. When Michael fell to his knees to remove her boots, Nikita let her fingers comb through his hair. When his fingers slid her panties down her legs, her fingers trembled. When his lips found the heat of her femininity, Nikita's fingers curled in Michael's hair. It was a sweet agony that she never wanted to end. "I want to see you," Nikita whispered, tugging at Michael's hair till he stood up again. He swallowed hard, looking deep into her beautiful eyes. "Nikita......if we do this, there's no turning back." Michael cupped her face in his hands. "Are you sure you want this?" It would be agony for him, but if Nikita had any doubts at all, Michael would walk away. "I'm sure," she whispered, even as she pushed his jacket off his shoulders. Nikita made short work of the buttons on Michael's shirt, and then it fluttered to the ground. His torso was mottled with purple and black bruises, and Nikita winced in sympathy as she reached out to brush her fingertips across his ribs. "I'm sorry..." she murmured softly. "Don't...." Michael told her, distracting Nikita with a kiss. How it happened, Michael wasn't sure, but a moment later he was naked as well and lifting Nikita into his arms. But that wasn't enough, for either of them, so he laid her down on the velvety grass. Nikita caught her breath as Michael moved his body over hers. He was so beautiful, his smooth skin shimmering in the pale golden glow. A dark angel that was Michael. No other man had made her feel like this. Nikita had never burned with such passion, nor smoldered with desire. No man had ever made her so aware of her femininity as Michael did. But, then again, he was sensuality personified. "Love me, Michael...." Nikita whispered, as he covered her body with soft, wet kisses. She was trembling with desire and white fire burned her from within. Nikita was about to scream with frustration when she felt Michael slide into her, filling her with his hard, throbbing heat. Filling the part of her that had been empty for so long. Making her complete....and whole. For Michael, time seemed to stand still. He had loved Simone and their lovemaking had been passionate. But Nikita was passion and fire and love. There was no sense of desperation....only fulfillment. As their bodies moved in a sensual rhythm that kept time with the beating of their hearts, Michael felt tears slide down his face. The embers that had nearly died out sparked into flames, deep within him, and he felt Nikita tremble beneath him even as she cried out in ecstasy. He soon followed. Then there was silence as they lay together in a tangle of arms and legs. Michael pressed soft kisses to Nikita's temple as his fingertips brushed over her damp skin. "Are you sorry?" he asked. Nikita understood the question. "No," she said softly. "Never sorry, Michael. And no regrets." "No regrets," he echoed, and then he hugged her tightly, wishing that this moment could last forever. It was nearly dawn when Michael entered the house. He was passing by the study when he nearly jumped. Kissinger had appeared in the doorway and was glowering at him. "Get in here now!" the senator ordered, reaching out and grabbing Michael by the arm. He shoved the young man into the room then closed the door firmly behind them. "What's wrong with you?" Michael hissed, not liking being handled in such a manner. Kissinger's eyes flashed. "Where the hell have you been?" he shouted. "I've had my men out searching for you for the past four hours." Michael was suddenly furious. "I went for a walk," he shot back, barely able to keep himself from shouting. "Now I'm going to bed." As he spoke he headed for the door only to find the senator blocking his way. "We're not finished," Kissinger snarled. "From now on you are not to leave the house without an escort. Do you hear me?" "I hear you," Michael whispered, his eyes shimmering like silver ice. "But you can go to hell. No one tells me what to do!" he hissed. "Do you hear me?" Kissinger reacted without thinking and his palm cracked across Michael's face. Then he stared in horror at the imprint of his hand on the pale skin. Michael didn't react to the pain. But something inside of him twisted as he looked into the senator's eyes. Eyes that were so like his own. Kissinger cared about him, Michael realized. He loved him like a son. And that was something that Michael was not prepared to handle. He made a move to step around the other man, but Kissinger blocked him again. "I'm sorry, Michael," the senator whispered. "I didn't mean to hurt you." "You didn't," Michael shot back, coldly. "I'm tired," he announced. Kissinger wasn't ready to let him go. "Where were you?" He asked. Then he waited as silence stretched out between them. A soft murmur penetrated the shroud of silence which cloaked the dusk-lightened room. "Michael?" Michael turned to see Maude scamper in the room and walk towards him. She placed her hand on his shoulder as if to reassure herself of his presence. "Are you all right?" The worry and fatigue which glimmered in her eyes caused a brief wave of shame through Michael....he hated the fact that he was so concerned that this woman was upset because of him. She treated him with the love and protectiveness of an older sister....her attitude would have been considered motherly had she not been so close to his age. He shook off such thoughts and turned to smile at her. "I'm fine. I just needed some air." "Where did you go at this hour?" she asked through sleep swollen lids, upon seeing the guarded look he gave her she realized her mistake. Michael was a young man who seemed to almost relish his privacy above all else....and he also seemed to have this almost maniacal need to be free, going outdoors as much as possible and constantly asking to be allowed to go his own way. "Never mind. It's not important. You're home safe, where you belong. Go get some rest." She gently tucked a stray lock behind his ear, and then scampered over to her husband. Michael watched as she tried to soothe Kissinger back to bed....assuring him that Michael was fine and that everything would be okay. He hated watching Kissinger just look at his wife with no love or respect....he just looked at her like she was another person he owned. So to make it easier and less degrading on Maude, Michael simply turned and walked out of the room. "We've found her." Michael jumped up and rolled out of his bed, onto the floor at Kissinger's statement. Michael had gone up to bed and slept for a good six hours when Kissinger awoke him at noon with the news. Michael's heart plummeted to his stomach....he already knew who she was. "What? Who?" Kissinger walked forward and with a broad smile clasped his son's shoulders. "That blond woman who tried to kill us the other day. My men found you exiting the canal but also saw a blond woman who fit the description of that bitch and hauled her in. She's being held for questioning...so far we haven't been able to get anything from her. Want to come down and see if you can get anything from her? She seemed fairly...taken...with you the other day." It took all of Michael's willpower not to break Kissinger's neck, but instead put a forced smile upon his own. "Give me a while, okay? I may peek in on your fun then eat lunch...then perhaps go in and have a chat with her. Don't....hurt...her until I get there...okay Dad? It's my turn to show her how it feels to be kicked in the chest." Forgive me, Nikita The thought crept into Michaels head before he could stop it, she was obviously having an effect upon him. There was no way in hell he would allow Kissinger to touch her....but he had to come up with a plan first. Had to get someone to help him, and he was already beginning to plan who that someone was. "Hungry?" Maude had walked up to find Michael staring through the safety-glass window which led into Kissinger's office. Maude knew that the window doubled as a two-way mirror...that Kissinger and his two guards on the other side could not see Michael...but he could see them. She had been informed that they had found the woman and thought that Michael would have been glad at the news. Instead she found him leaning with his hands up against the Plexiglas window staring towards the beautiful blond with a look of.... "Michael...come with me..." she gently tugged at his arm and pulled him away from the window. He glared at her for an instant, looked back and then slowly allowed her to pull him back into Megan's nursery on the second floor. She sadly acknowledged the fact that Kissinger treated Michael the way she had always wanted him to look at Megan....as a child instead of an obligation. She knew they would have privacy in there....and she wanted to find out exactly what was going on. Michael knew that woman from somewhere....and she wanted to find out exactly how. Michael followed Maude into the pastel nursery and collapsed into a rocking chair nearby Megan's crib. He had seen Nikita's face...Kissinger had lied. He had promised not to hurt her, to allow Michael to be the one. Yet, as soon as he had come and peeked into the office, she had a busted lip and she looked like she was barely holding onto consciousness. He wanted nothing more than to rush in and kill Kissinger and get her out of there, but they hadn't found the disk. He had to work quickly to think up a plan which would save both the mission and Nikita....for if he couldn't both would be lost. Maude observed the plethora of emotions which shown not only in Michaels eyes but his body language as well. He couldn't sit still, he kept leaning forward and pinching the bridge of his nose and he wouldn't meet her eyes. "You're after the disk aren't you?" Michael's head shot up and his eyes widened in amazement. He had thought that of all people, Maude had been kept in the dark. "I'm not as stupid as I look Michael. I have a Law Degree from Yale, a marketing degree from Harvard, and have spent the better part of my life working within the Treasury Department. I met and fell in love with your father two years ago, and we were soon married....and I quit my job so that I could dedicate my life to him. He did love me during the first part of our marriage...then I got pregnant. And he got bored. I gave up everything for him and he threw me away. He treats me like I have the brains of a small child, even going so far as to allow me to sit in some of his meetings. About two weeks ago, he came home with a disk...I'm not sure what it contains but I know a government issue when I see one. That young woman down there is willing to die for it, and from what I've seen, she doesn't appear to be the cold-blooded assassin that she wants us to believe. Who is she....?" Michael looked back towards her and was amazed to find her face not in a cold grimace, like Madeline's often was when she wanted information, but instead in a compassionate face. He sensed that she might help him, but suspicion clouded his senses. If she was one of them....but something told him to start talking, or tell at least a version of the truth. "I am not really Kissinger's son." Maude surprised him again by simply smiling. "And...." "And??" "Michael, I'm not stupid. Isn't it coincidental that you suddenly transfer to GWU the day after the disk is stolen, and I've seen the way you move. You almost willingly got into that limo from what I've heard from the guards. Your story seemed to change in minor increments, and you are so different from Kissinger. I know all about his real son, he's a cold hearted man, just like his father." "Does Kissinger know?" Michael said, jumping to his feet. If he knew, Nikita was in graver danger than he thought. "No. He was too eager to find his precious son that nothing could faze him. Between his precious disk and Izzy, that man doesn't acknowledge much of anything these days. Besides...there is another reason I know who you are...Michael. It took me a while to put it together. I watched you help that woman escape the other night...and it reminded me of something. So I ran into the library, and pulled out one of my scrapbooks. It was you in the picture." Trying to distract himself from her intense gaze, Michael walked over and picked Megan up out of the crib. "What picture?" Maude walked out of the room and returned with a bright blue book with lace bordering. She put it on the changing shelf and searched through it for a picture. She handed it to Michael and watched as he visibly paled. "We grew up together. She was my best friend, and due to my high connections, I knew that she really didn't die in that auto accident. My daughter was named after her....Megan Simone...." Michael stared down at the wedding photo in his hands....it was taken the afternoon after he and Simone had eloped. In Simone's handwriting, the message scrawled across the back of the picture read *Sorry you couldn't be here. This is Michael, isn't he a hunk? I hope you two can meet soon; you have a lot in common. You're both goofs! Love you! Simone.* Michael's mind flashed back to that day, and that time. Back then, before Section, he had been a goof. He was serious, in his own way, but he knew how to enjoy life. That was before it had all come crashing down on him....before.... Maude slipped her arm around his shoulder and was amazed when he allowed it....she was fully aware that Michael did not like to be touched. "We don't have enough time to go into everything that I know about you and her life, your jobs. But I have several other letters from her, describing her life and her love for you. But four years ago, the letters stopped. And I knew she was dead. It's for her memory and her love that I'm going to make your job easier." "Easier," Michael said, his face straightening back into its usual section mode. As much as he wanted to trust her, he still found it difficult. She nodded slowly and then bent up to whisper in his ear. "I want my old life back Michael, I want to be free to find a man who treats me with the love and kindness that both Megan and I deserve. Give me twenty minutes to get Megan and I to my mothers across town....Kissinger knows that I'm a mommy's girl, so it won't be odd that I take off in the afternoon to go see her. Take this," Maude said, handing him Megan's ratty old blue rattler. "The bottom screws away, in there you will find the micro disk. The abuses of the past two years came rushing back to me and I lost my ability to take it anymore once he used my daughter to accomplish his objectives. By stowing it in her room, in her favorite rattler, he is placing her at risk. And I know he couldn't care less. That is my other reason for helping you." Maude grabbed Megan's diaper bag and then reached for her daughter. "Well, I hate to spill all this heavy stuff on you and run but I don't want to be around to see the after-effect but if you can, keep my husband alive? He may be a horrible man but he does possess some love...and I don't want my daughter to grow up without a father. But, do what you have to." She walked towards the door and then turned and offered Michael a sad smile. "Goodbye Michael." Michael watched her leave. He stood there with the rattle in his hand for a good ten minutes without uttering a word. He wasn't sure if this was a setup or not, he had never met anybody, besides Simone and Nikita, who had done anything purely out of the goodness of their heart. Looking down at the now empty crib, he found himself screwing off the bottom of the rattler. As the micro disk fell into his waiting hand, Nikita's vision flashed across his mind and he realized that it was time to move. Dropping the rattler into Megan's crib, he calmly walked down the stairs towards Kissinger's office. It was time for both of them to go home. The door slowly creaked open and Nikita looked up to see through her rapidly swelling eyes to find Michael strolling in and walking over towards Kissinger with a bright smile on her face. Relief flooded her as she watched him whisper something to Kissinger and then turn around to face her, a big grin plastered across his face but his eyes were shining with worry. His next action shocked not only her, but Kissinger as well. Walking over to stand behind her, Michael placed his hands on her shoulder and looked up at Kissinger with the same corny smile plastered to his face. "Father, I'd like you to meet my fiancée." Both Kissinger and Nikita looked at each other in shock, then at Michael. "WHAT?" they both replied. "Don't you remember our conversation the other night?" he said, looking down at Nikita. "Which one?" she drawled, following his lead. She wasn't sure what the hell he was doing but was more than obliged to follow along as long as he stayed with her. "You know this woman?" Kissinger hissed, his face turning bright red. Michael chuckled slightly and then bent over to slowly remove Nikita's bonded hands. "I love seeing you tied up like this, if my father wasn't here, we could have another moment." He said, very loudly, and the shocked Nikita realized that it was all for Kissinger...and Michael's plan slowly began to sink in. It was a sick one, but it just might work. "Maybe later," she whispered back, blowing him a kiss. Michael looked back over at his father as Nikita rubbed her wrist....Kissinger was beside himself with anger. "I didn't know her before the other day....really. But she was just so damn gorgeous and so I went down into the basement, and convinced her that if I let her go....she would leave you alone and marry me. Oddly enough, she agreed." "Because I never met a man who enjoyed being hurt as much as you, lover boy," Nikita quipped as she slowly stood up to stand beside Michael. Michael was deadly calm through all of this....every action slow and deliberate, as to not alert the guards to his plan. "Why don't I believe a word of this?" Kissinger demanded, his fists becoming clinched into tight balls. Michael noticed this and walked over to stand beside Kissinger, eyeing the guard who had stepped up to stand right behind them. "Excuse me, we're having a moment." Michael told the guard and turned back to face his father then quick as lightening he whipped around and did a swift palm strike to bridge of the guard's nose, knocking him out immediately. At the same time, Nikita did a swift and powerful side kick to the other guard's neck....he was down in an instant. She picked up the guard's automatic and then turned around to smile at Michael....Madeline was right. Together, they were an unbeatable team. "Why not kill me too?" Kissinger bellowed, as Michael and Nikita began leading him out of the office. "Because I promised a friend that I'd let you live. And we figure we can get more information from you alive." They led him into the living room and Nikita kept guard on Kissinger while Michael used the cell phone to call Birkhoff. "We're done here. Send Housekeeping. We have the disk." The next few moments happened in almost slow motion. He turned to see Izzy sneaking in behind Nikita with a gun poised at her back. Nikita was staring at him, taking in his words, and didn't see Izzy cocking her gun ready to shoot. Still clutching the phone, he rushed forward to shove Nikita to the ground as the gun went off. Nikita looked up to see Kissinger's body jerk with the impact of the bullet in his chest. Michael had already grabbed Nikita's gun and pumped Izzy's body with bullets. Michael dropped the gun and refused to look towards Kissinger's body as he slowly helped Nikita to her feet. Nikita noticed this and she brought Michael in for a tight hug. She was amazed that he allowed her too...but then again, these past few days had been a miracle in itself. He had opened up to her in many ways....and allowed himself to fulfill a desire both of them had possessed for a long time. They stood that way, hugging each other for a long time, until the doors burst open and a few section operatives came rushing in. Nikita placed her palm on Michael's cheek and smiled. Then she turned and began walking towards the van. It was time for Michael to go back to being Michael and for her to retreat into the shadows. Neither had discussed the future or what would happen next....but for now Nikita knew that they needed to complete their mission....and return to Section One. ()Two months later() Nikita sat at the briefing table twisting her hair in her fingers. It had been two months since their last mission....since their night together. Neither denied what had happened nor the feelings between them, but somehow it had been easier to pretend that everything was back to normal...for now. Everything had been so rushed after they had gotten back and they both knew that Operations and Madeline could NOT know about their night. Her eyes wandered back over to Michael's still form as Operations wrapped up the briefing. They would leave at 0800 tomorrow morning with the van to go and check out a possible warehouse where a rumored Red Cell group was located. Michael was in his usual machine mode but she was pleasantly surprised when Michael suddenly reached under the table to place his hand on her knee. He couldn't turn and meet her gaze but she knew that he was as aware of her presence as she was of his. She patted his hand under the table and then turned and nodded at Operations. As she opened her mouth to ask if they were finished, she felt a now familiar wave of nausea wash over her. She must have caught one nasty bug....she had been sick for over a couple of weeks now. Jumping up from the table, she rushed out of the room in search of the nearest bathroom. Michael's eyes followed her retreating figure but his face was still stone cold. He turned to see Madeline watching him with a strange look in her eyes and he shivered. ************ The mission was simple enough. Gather intel on a woman named Francine Morrow. She owned a restaurant/nightclub called Cascade. Nikita and Michael would go and work the crowd, see what they could learn. Madeline told Michael to play up to Francine, but to be low key about it. Nikita was not thrilled with this assignment, and it didn't help that she couldn't get over her queasy stomach. In fact, half a mile from the restaurant she ordered the van to pull over. It had barely stopped when she was out the door and retching. Michael had followed her, and now he stood behind Nikita, supporting her and holding her hair back from her face. When she was finished he wiped her face with a handkerchief, his touch gentle. When she smiled at him, gratefully, he asked, "How far along are you?" "What?" Nikita was confused by the question. "I would guess, eight weeks?" He locked eyes with her. Nikita frowned. "Michael....what in the hell are you talking about?" He smoothed a lock of pale hair off Nikita's forehead. "You're pregnant," Michael whispered. It was surprising to him that she truly hadn't guessed. "No!" Nikita hissed the word. But even as she denied it, she knew it was true. Tears filled her eyes. "Michael......what are we going to do?" Nikita didn't want her child to end up dead, the way Michael's son had. Section would never allow this. She was certain of it. But she would protect the life growing inside her, with every fiber of her being. "It will be all right," Michael assured her, even though he had his own doubts. He had known, for nearly two weeks now, that Nikita was pregnant. He had recognized the signs, remembering from when Simone had been with child. Their son. The image of his precious face flashed in Michael's head, and brought with it the prickling of hot tears. He blinked them back and drew Nikita into his arms. "We'll find away," Michael promised her. Nikita held on to Michael, as if he were a lifeline. She believed him. He would protect their child with his life. He had protected her in the past, never caring about the risk to himself. Michael would be a wonderful father. "We'll have to tell Section," she whispered. "I won't be able to hide it for much longer." Michael nodded against her hair. "I think Madeline already knows," he said softly. "I'll talk to her tomorrow. But, right now, we have to do." Michael set Nikita from him. "Do you feel up to it?" She looked pale and he was worried about her. "I'm fine," Nikita said firmly. She brushed a kiss against his cheek. "Let's do it." And, so saying, she stepped back into the van. They gathered up the intel that they needed, and Operations was pleased. Madeline debriefed Michael, and he took the opportunity to broach the subject of Nikita's pregnancy. He felt it best not to wait, even though Nikita had requested that they talk to Madeline, together, in the morning. The dark-haired woman sat behind her desk, her eyes locked on Michael's face. When he had finished telling her about what had happened in DC, she stood up and moved to the front of her desk, perching on the edge of it, so that they were face to face. "This is a difficult situation, Michael," Madeline said softly. She remembered the last time she'd had this conversation with him. When Simone had gotten pregnant. She knew that he remembered it too. Pain shimmered in Michael's silver-green gaze. "I realize that," he said softly. Michael laced his fingers together in his lap, to keep himself from fidgeting. What he was going to say was difficult, for many reasons. "I want Nikita to be safe," he said bluntly. "I'll do whatever I have to make sure of it." "Meaning what?" Madeline questioned, curiously. Michael locked eyes with her. "I don't want Nikita working as a cold op. I won't risk her losing the baby." Madeline nodded. "I can understand that," she allowed. They had taken Simone off active field status as well. "Done," Madeline replied. "Nikita can learn to run teams from here. She can work with the new recruits as well." "Will you tell Operations?" Michael asked. "Or shall I?" "I'll tell him," Madeline offered. She knew it would be for the best, all around. Operations was not going to be pleased. But Madeline would convince him to accept it. There was nothing else he could do. But she also realized that Michael would not go unpunished. She knew that he was aware of that fact as well, and that he was prepared to accept whatever was given. "How is Nikita handling this?" Madeline inquired. Michael shrugged. "As well as can be expected. She's scared." Madeline smiled, and then reached out to tuck an errant lock of hair behind Michael's ear. "So are you," she said softly, and with kindness. "Yes," Michael allowed. There was no sense in denying it. "I don't know what to do." "About what?" Madeline prompted. Michael was silent for a moment, wondering if he should make a confession. Could he trust Madeline? Probably not, a small voice told him. But he shrugged it off. He couldn't share his fears with Nikita, and he needed to confront them. Michael held Madeline's gaze. "I failed Simone," he said, his voice toneless. "And my son." That thought hurt more than anything, but Michael pushed past the pain. "I won't fail Nikita or her child." Madeline found his choice of words interesting. "It's your child too, Michael," she reminded him. "What happens once it's born," he countered, not acknowledging her comment. "That depends," Madeline replied, resisting the urge to heave a sigh of frustration. This was going to be a difficult time all the way around. Michael didn't like the sound of that. "On what?" he prompted. He was prepared for the worst. But he doubted that Nikita would be. He didn't want her to be hurt. She had suffered enough already and deserved to be happy. Michael knew that this child would be her life. Madeline knew what Michael was thinking. He was right to be worried about Nikita. About them both. "It depends on you, Michael," she said honestly. "You know that Section is not the proper environment to raise a child. So......what are your plans?" "I want to bargain for Nikita's freedom," Michael replied. "Hers and the baby's." "What about your own?" Madeline countered. "Don't you want to be with them?" Michael had to blink back tears. He remembered his hopes and dreams from the past. The life that he and Simone had hoped to lead with their son. But almost three years after he was born, he was gone. Three months after that Michael had lost Simone as well. He couldn't bear to lose Nikita. As for their child....Michael didn't want to go there. He wasn't ready for that. "I want Nikita and the baby to be safe," he repeated. "What do I have to do?" Madeline closed her eyes and a long moment of silence stretched out between them. Madeline opened her eyes and sighed. Looking down into Michael's silver-green eyes she felt that she owed him the truth, for now. "I have no idea, Michael. I'll have to discuss this with Operations. Go home Michael, get some sleep." Michael allowed a small-half smile curve his lips and he locked eyes with her. "Sleep. You know better than anyone that sleep is not in my vocabulary." Madeline offered a small, sad smile. "See you in the morning." She turned and exited her office leaving him staring blankly at the walls. Nikita tossed and turned in her room as her mind went over everything which had happened that evening. She had always wanted children...and already she felt like this child was a part of her, a part of her soul. She knew that Michael was already having doubts...she had seen his expression as he had went into Madeline's office for the debriefing, and a part of her knew what he was going to do. A single tear slipped down her cheek as she thought of having to raise the child in Section...what if she would not live to see the next eight months? What if she was not allowed to keep the child? What if Michael didn't want her to have the baby? What if.... The what ifs were interrupted by the sound of her front door creaking slowly open. Throwing off her comforter, she reached under pillow and clutched her gun to her side. She trembled with the knowledge that things like this could happen all the time...what if she wasn't around to protect her baby? The gun trembled in her hand as she rounded the corner and peered down into the dark living room. Suddenly a strong hand gripped her wrist and pulled the gun out of her hand and pulled her into a tight hug. "It's all right....I'm here...." Michael soothed her as she looked down at the gun in his hand and everything came crashing down on her. He led her over to the bed and without saying a single word, he drew her down into his arms. Holding her tightly, she cried herself to sleep in his arms. Michael didn't sleep as he pondered what was to come...pondered their fate. His hand unconsciously moved to rest on her abdomen as he fell into a restless sleep at her side. Operations sighed as he stared down onto the throng of agents below. He found himself reaching for a cigarette as Madeline explained about the child. It was three am and despite himself, all the years of his job seemed to weigh heavily on his shoulders at that moment. Ignoring the fleeting image of Steven, his own son that flashed across his mind he turned and looked at Madeline. "What did you tell him you would do?" She walked over and looked out the glass to see if she could spot what he was looking so intensely at, but she knew that his mind was elsewhere... probably with his own son. "Michael asked if she could be taken off active duty....so as of now, she will be learning to run teams from here. She can work with the new recruits as well." "The same as Simone?" Operations replied, turning to stare at her. "Yes. But what do you want to do about Michael? You know he has to be punished...and what will we do about the baby? Section is no place to raise a child." Operations looked at her again for a long moment before turning away. "She risked her life to save my son. I could never offer her what she wants, which is Freedom. I owe it to her to allow her not only to have this child, but to raise it as well. She will know if she can handle it or not, I do trust in her judgment in that aspect....if any of us could do it, it would be Nikita. I will do everything in my power to make sure that child is protected as she protected my son....And I will try to keep her safe so that she will be around to raise her child too." Madeline was shocked by his words...to say the least. But she knew underneath that hard exterior Operations had woven around himself after all these years, the man still loved his son. And he did appreciate Nikita's agreement to protect Steven....but he could never have given her freedom. Perhaps now he was giving her the freedom he wished he'd been granted...the freedom to raise his child with the knowledge that it would be protected...completely. "And what are we going to do about Michael?" "Michael will punish himself enough....more than anything we could ever do. Besides, didn't we already punish him when we decided that a child would interfere with his ability to perform as an operative? And we learned didn't we....he became more withdrawn after Galen ‘died'. More distracted....his inability to make a rational decision ended in Simone's capture. We were wrong in our profile." He turned to glare at Madeline. "I will not allow anyone to interfere with this child...do I make myself clear?" Madeline swallowed a gasp at the harshness of his tone. She had thought that it had been a mutual decision to eliminate Michael's distraction but looking into the intense gaze in Operations eyes, she finally admitted to herself that she had been the driving force behind the decision. "Fine. Do you want me there when you talk to Michael and Nikita?" Operations snuffed out the cigarette and walked out of the room. "That's your decision Madeline. Just don't interfere. I won't allow it this time. Michael's ability to stay a good operative under extreme circumstances is being tested. And so is yours." Madeline watched him leave and suppressed a shiver which nearly ran through her body. She hung her head and looked out the window. For the first time in nearly ten years, she felt regret...and shame. Nikita watched as Operations paced in the tiny loft over looking the Section One main hall. He was explaining to them about his plan to allow her to keep the child and she was automatically suspicious. Michael felt her tense beside him and he squeezed her hand reassuringly, his stone face not betraying the wave of emotions racing through his own mind. He had only slightly flinched when Operations brought up his son...and confirmed his worst suspicions. That was when Madeline had turned and left the room, refusing to meet Michael's eyes. After Operations explained Nikita's setup, and how he would provide for him, he turned to Michael. "I'm going to give you time to think this over Michael. I'm sending you to the Section headquarters located in Capetown for three months. During that time, you will have no contact with Nikita, and you will decide whether or not you want to be a part of this child's future. If you decide that Nikita would be safer, happier, you can stay there. If not, you have total freedom to return. This is important Michael; we need to know if you can handle this child and all the responsibilities that go with it." Operations stepped closer and locked eyes with the younger man. "If you mess up and do become distracted, be forewarned that it will not be the child who is killed this time. You will be canceled...do you understand?" Michael looked away and glanced towards Nikita. Her blue eyes were shining with unshed tears and she had a look of horror upon her face. But he had no choice...he had to do this for her....he still wasn't ready to think about the child. "Agreed. When do I leave?" "Three hours....your bags are already on the plane." Operations said, and then he turned and left the room. It was the only way he could think of that might work....and a part of him which he thought had been buried long ago wished Michael would make the right decision...and return to their child. Steven's visage passed before his minds eye again as he hurried towards a briefing. Michael led the stunned Nikita by the arm into his office. He sat her in his chair before walking over and closing the door. They sat in silence for several moments...the silence like a deep chasm between them. Peeling his eyes away from the door, his eyes focused on Nikita...who was fighting back the tears in her eyes and trying to put on a strong face. That was his Nikita....tough as nails on the outside, but vulnerable like a child on the inside. It had taken him three years to learn that the tough exterior she projected was covering some deep emotional angst, and he hated himself for knowing that he too had contributed to her heartache. Nikita gulped back her tears and looked up at Michael...he was just so vulnerable in that moment that she wanted to rush into his arms. She could see the pain and regret in his eyes and she wanted nothing more than to wipe them away....they only had three hours together. They should be spending these last few hours loving each other, not reviewing the pains of the past. Especially since she had a gut feeling that this would be the last time she would ever lay eyes upon her man in black. "I'll bet next time you'll learn to stop by a drug store before meeting some blond chick in the middle of the night." Then she leaned over to stand up...and promptly vomited into his trash can. "Damn," she murmured as she scooted the bucket to the back of the room. She looked up to see....a smile upon Michael's face. *I'm over here sick as a dog and he's smiling? What will it take to make him laugh? Cough up a kidney?* Michael walked over to her and held her face in his hands, gently caressing her cheeks with his thumbs. "I promise, in a couple of months that will pass. You will not have morning sickness anymore....you'll stop getting sick at the drop of a hat...." "Yea, then I'll just get fat," Nikita drawled, leaning forward to wrap her hands around his waist. A long moment passed again as Nikita looked up into his sad eyes and sighed. "Will you promise to come back to me when I'm fat and emotional and needing you to rush to the store to fulfill my weird cravings at 3am?" Michael just drew her into his embrace and didn't say a word as he allowed her to cry into his shoulder. His own emotions were a jumbled mass of confusion right now and he knew that she was in shock. But he was sure that in the long run...she would come to respect and understand his decision. He didn't deserve to have any of this, and to stay would only cause her grief....more grief than he would cause should he stay. He spent the next two hours showing her the depth of his feeling...allowing her to see that she was the only thing in his life that mattered. He couldn't say it with words, mostly because he knew that she needed proof, and had never given much faith in his words. So he would just hold her...and pray she would understand. Nikita had just helped Birkhoff instruct a new recruit learn to operate a P.D.A. and was amazed at how exhausted she felt doing such a simple act. Twisting her neck, she strolled past Walter's office when he called out to her. "Sugar? Can you come in here a minute?" Nikita turned and walked right on in and gave him a brief kiss on the cheeks. In the past month since Michael had left, Walter had been like an uncle to her...always by her side and taking care of her. He had talked her through the lonely nights and had actually spilt many of the things that he knew about Michael. Despite herself, she felt closer to Michael than she ever had, especially since Walter had told her the details about Galen's death. She blinked back the tears which accompanied the thoughts and smiled at him. "What is it Walter?" "I got something I want to give you," he said as he turned around and bent over a small cabinet. "No, thanks. Last time I saw one of those, I wound up pregnant remember?" Walter chuckled as he held up a slightly faded, but still in perfect shape teddy bear. It was a good two feet tall and a bright white color, with a faded blue ribbon around its neck. "Where exactly did you and Michael go anyway? Kinky..." Walter joked as he handed Nikita the giant bear. "Wouldn't you like to know? Oh, Walter. It's beautiful, thank you." "Don't thank me. Thank Michael." Nikita nearly hugged the bear closer to her chest and felt the tears shimmer again as she looked up at Walter. "Michael? When did he send this?" Walter sighed and sat her down in his chair, as she looked ready to faint. He explained about the origins of the teddy bear. Michael was extremely proud of his little boy, and was always surprising him with toys and stuff. One day, Michael found this teddy bear on a mission that he was on in Germany. He came home and rushed into the Section hoping to see Simone and Galen. He found Simone weeping in his office, and as she told him that Galen had died that morning, he dropped the teddy bear onto the floor. He just stared at it as he held her and Walter came along and took the bear out of his presence. He stored it in his office for safekeeping, in case Michael would ever want it later. He never asked...and the bear remained. "He wanted his child to have this bear, he even had a nickname for it Nikita, he called it Angel. I picked him up and brought him to Section and he talked about it the whole time. I know that he would want you, and your child, to have him. And it'll keep you warm at night...if not, you know I'm always available." Nikita breathed in the scent of the old bear and allowed the tears to fall.... "Thank you Walter," she mumbled and he bent over and just held her. She needed all the strength she could find right now. And he was determined to find a way to contact Michael and drag him back to Section...at whatever cost. ()Capetown, South Africa() Michael prepared to break into the heavily guarded Mali Embassy to get a very important micro disk vital to Section Interest. He nodded toward the operative to his right and together they crawled across the fence and into the compound. They made their way into the building and everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Before he knew what had happened he felt a sharp searing side in his side and he knew he was going down. His last thought before plummeting into darkness was Nikita....and their child.