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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.
When the phone rang, Nikita glanced at her clock as she reached for the receiver. It was two am. At the sound of Michael's voice whispering, "Josephine..." Nikita groaned and covered her face with a pillow. She heard the click as Michael disconnected, then Nikita rolled out of bed and headed for the shower.
Forty minutes later she strolled into the conference room to be confronted with four pairs of glaring eyes. Operations, Madeline, Michael and Birkhoff. In that moment, Nikita knew that something bad had happened. Tension practically vibrated in the air. "What is it?" she asked, dropping into the chair beside Michael.
Operations answered her. Ten hours ago a deadly virus was stolen from Dolcha labs in Mexico. We know the name of the woman who took them. She was one of the technicians. Her name it Leticia Raul." Operations paused to remove his glasses and pinch the bridge of his nose. He had a headache that seemed about to split his head open, but there was no time to deal with that now. Slipping his glasses back on, he continued. "It was hoped that she would be easily found. But that hasn't happened."
Madeline picked up the story. "Leticia Raul took a plane to Vancouver and the people tracking her lost her," she explained. Her eyes were locked on Nikita's face. "It's imperative that we find her and put the virus on ice withing twenty-six hours."
"What happens if we don't?" Nikita questioned, her eyes instinctively going to Michael.
"The two vials containing the virus will shatter," he replied. His own eyes were shuttered, his expression it's usual, blank, mask. "The virus is highly contagious and deadly. It's also airborne. If we don't retrieve the vials, hundreds of thousands of people will die in less than twenty-four hours."
Nikita felt the blood drain from her face as the seriousness of Michael's words sunk in. She swallowed hard then asked a hopeful question. "Is there an antidote?"
Madeline nodded. "Yes, but we won't be able to get it to everyone in time. This virus spreads rapidly. It must be contained before that can happen."
"You and Michael will head out for Vancouver immediately," Operations informed them. He pointed to two disks on the the table. "That's all the information Birkhoff was able to find on Leticia Raul, her family and friends. As far as we know, she had a sister in Vancouver and that's all. No other family or friends there."
"So it's logical to assume that she'll go there," Nikita guessed.
Madeline smiled. "It seems logical," she allowed. Her eyes then flickered over to Michael. "Walter has come up with a cooling unit, the size of a small lunch box. You'll carry it with you in a back pack. Pick that up and the other equipment you'll need on your way out."
Michael nodded. "I'll need to keep in contact with Birkhoff, so he can run names and sequences for me."
"I'll be online," Birkhoff assured him. His face was pale as well, and he kept rubbing his hand over the top of his head, which betrayed the depth of his anxiety.
"What do we do if we can't find the vials?" Nikita queried. A part of her didn't want to know, but the other part of her had to ask.
Operations moved to stand before her. "If you don't find them return to Section. It will be out of our hands then."
Nikita didn't like the sound of that. She didn't say anything, but her eyes spoke volumes as she turned to look at Madeline.
The older woman smiled at her, but it was a cold curving of her lips. She wouldn't offer Nikita any false hope. "If you and Michael fail, then the death toll will surpass that of both World Wars...in less than three days."
"I see," Nikita replied, her eyes filling with tears at the thought of such a horrendous loss of life. Too many innocencts would die. She turned to Michael. "We can't fail," she whispered.
"We'll do our best," he assured her. But then he turned away to face Operations. "What about the World Health Organization? Won't they interfere?"
Operations shook his head. "We've convinced them that it's best to let us handle this. They don't like it, but they agree. We don't to start a world-wide panic. But they're on stand by. If you do fail, they'll move in."
Michael considered those words then echoed Nikita. "We won't fail." With that he turned and strode out of the room.
With the cold light of determination burning in her eyes, Nikita followed in Michael's wake.
Madeline waited for Birkhoff to exit the room as well before moving to stand beside Operations. "Do you think they'll succeed?" she questioned, her dark eyes glimmering with what might have been hope.
"I hope so," Operations replied. "I don't think the world is ready for the devastation that will occur if they don't." He reached out and let one hand fall on Madeline's shoulder. As their eyes locked, he squeezed gently. But the moment soon passed as reality seeped its way in. Operations stepped away and left the room.
On the plane ride to Vancouver, Nikita sat in her seat watching Michael as he checked over the equipment in his backpack. A smile curved her lips as she studied him. His hair fell forward and into his eyes and he, impatiently, shoved it back. But what truly amused Nikita was his attire, and her own. They weren't exactly in field gear, which would be too conscipous, but neither would they exactly blend in to the wood work either.
Michael was dressed in his usual, formfitting black pants and boots. But instead of his customary blazer, he wore a black turtleneck with a heavy, black sweater over it. The temperature in Vancouver was about fifty-five, so he would eschew a coat. It would be too cumbersome should he need to move fast. Nikita was dressed as his twin. Michael would carry the back pack and they both had guns on them, concealed at the small of their backs, beneath the bulky sweaters.
"Why would Leticia steal the virus?" Nikita questioned, after Michael had closed the back pack and set it aside. She hadn't wanted to intrude on his concentration before. "She has to know how deadly it is."
"I'm sure she does," Michael replied, his eyes glancing out the window of the plane. They would arrive in Vancouver in about twenty minutes. Leaving them with about twenty hours to find the vials. "People do stupid things when they're desperate," he commented.
Nikita agreed with him there, but was surprised that Michael had come to that conclusion. From experience?, she wondered. "Why do you think she's desperate?" Nikita prompted.
Michael shrugged. "Maybe her sister will know," he countered. Michael sensed that Nikita was fishing for insight on him at this moment. But he knew that now was not the time to have this conversation. "Keep your focus, Nikita," he reminded her.
"I'm focused," she assured him, with a touch of resentment. Michael's sudden coldness irritated her, even though she understood it, as well as the seriousness of their situation. But she needed to distract herself, if only for a little while. The thought of all the deaths that would occur if they failed, was a bit overwhelming. The pressure was on and Nikita felt herself being crushed beneath it's weight. Michael, on the other hand, didn't appear to be at all affected. Not surprising. He had slipped into *machine mode*. Nikita envied him that ability.
"We'll find her," Michael said softly, reaching out to take one of NIkita's hand in his own. His eyes locked with hers and Michael did his best to let her see reassurance in his. "We make a good team."
Nikita smiled at that. Even though she didn't like the game they were forced to play, she agreed with him. They worked well together. They were both extreme in their attitudes, characteristics and personality traits, but somehow they managed to blend together and form a balance. Not a perfect one, but nothing..and no one...was perfect. "I'm scared," Nikita admitted. She didn't expect a response, she just needed to say that outloud. Needed for Michael to know. To her surprise, he didn't answer her.
Bringing her hand to his lips, Michael kissed Nikita's palm, then he whispered, "So am I."
"Michael?" Nikita wanted to explore his confession, but even as she reached out to him, he was pulling away and she knew that the moment was gone. With a shake of her head, Nikita accepted it and fell back into her seat. Michael was an enigma in so many ways, but he was also human, and learning to show it. At least to her. And Nikita knew that it would be in her best interests to be patient. It wasn't high on her list of virtues. But she was learning as well.
"We'll be landing soon," MIchael announced, as he once again glanced out the window. He could feel Nikita's gaze burning into him but didn't have the courage to face it. He had revealed too much already. "Prepare yourself," he ordered.
Nikita took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, then announced, "I'm ready." And she was. With Michael by her side, she could take on the world. It was Section One that was the problem. But Nikita pushed those thoughts aside as she felt the plane begin it's descent.
************
The moment they landed at the airport, Michael and Nikita headed for the car four-wheel drive ranger that was waiting for them and headed out. Michael was familiar with the layout of the city and they had an address for the sister, Shanice Raul. That was the first place they would go to. She was a corporate attorney with her own firm, and she lived in the upper class section of town.
Michael and Nikita pulled into the driveway of the stone house that Shanice Raul owned, and knocked on the door. No one answered. Not entirely surprising, since it was a week day.
Nikita studied their surroundings. "Shall we try her office?" she suggested.
"No," Michael was pulling a slim case out of his pocket. It contained a lock pick. "We'll check out the house, search for signs that Leticia might be here. If not, then we wait."
"Whatever you say," Nikita replied, as she watched Michael open the door with enviable expertise. Once inside they split up. Ten minutes later they knew that Leticia Raul hadn't been there.
Michael glanced out the front window, then he tossed Nikita the keys to the Ranger. "Park the car on a side road then come back," he ordered.
Nikita nodded and left without asking why. Michael always had a reason for the things he did, and he would tell her in his own time.
It was just after seven o'clock when Shanice Raul entered her home. She clicked on the hall light and entered the livingroom while stepping out of her heels. When she saw the two people standing in the middle of the room, she froze.
Nikita stepped forward, a smile on her face. She wanted to reassure the other woman. "We're not going to hurt you," Nikita said, gently. "We're here because we need your help."
Shanice pressed one hand to her chest and took several deep breaths to calm her racing heart. She realized that the woman didn't appear to be a thief. She was beautiful and her eyes were kind. The man was darker, yet equally beautiful, and she sensed an intensity about him, but no menace. "What...what kind of help?" she questioned, taking a step further into the room. "How can I help you?"
Michael stepped forward. "We need to find your sister," he said bluntly. They didn't have time to walk on eggshells. There was only eighteen hours left.
"Letty?" Shanice questioned, a frown marring her forehead. When the blond woman nodded, Shanice tucked a lock of black hair behind one ear and shook her head. "Why would you come here? Letty lives in Guapo, Mexico."
"We know that," Nikita countered, a smile still on her face. She didn't want to scare the other woman anymore than could be helped. "Your sister took something from Dolcha Labs. Something very dangerous."
Shanice swallowed hard. She knew the research her sister was involved with. "Dangerous...how?" she questioned.
Michael was brutally honest. "An airborne virus that is highly contagious and will kill hundreds of thousands in less than twenty-four hours if we don't retrieve it in time."
"No..." Shanice felt a chill ripple through her. She locked eyes with the beautiful blond. "Letty wouldn't do that. Not now!"
"What do you mean...not now?" Nikita prompted. She moved to stand beside Shanice, who had turned deathly pale. Nikita was afraid she might pass out on them and they didn't have time for that.
Shanice had to regulate her breathing again. She swallowed hard then replied, "Letty is eight months pregnant. She wouldn't put her baby at risk."
Michael was stunned by the news of Leticia Raul's pregnancy. Section's intel hadn't included this information. And it could be vital to their finding the woman. His face, however, was a neutral mask as he spoke. "We know that your sister is here in Vancouver. We also know that you're the only family she has here. Is there anyone else she might know?"
"Yes," Shanice replied, a grimace marring her lips. "My ex-partner, Joseph Brady."
"Ex-Partner?" Nikita queried.
Shanice sighed, her hands twisting in her lap, a sign of her high anxiety. "Joseph was my law partner for seven years. About six months ago I fired him."
Michael was intrigued. "Why?"
"He was stealing from me," Shanice replied. It wasn't a subject she enjoyed discussing.
"Your sister knows him?" Michael prompted.
Shanice snorted, derisively. "Oh yes," she drawled. "Joseph is the father of her baby."
Nikita let her surprise show as she exchanged glances with Michael. It now made sense that Leticia would have come to Vancouver to see Joseph Brady, especially if her baby was due in a month. What she didn't understand was why the woman would steal the virus. "How did Leticia meet Joseph?" Nikita questioned, looking for some answers to the questions that filled her head.
"I introduced them at a christmas party last year," Shanice replied. "It was innocent enough, or so I thought. After all, Joseph is fifteen years older than Letty. He's also married and has three children. The oldest of which is fifteen." Shanice knew that her dislike of Joseph Brady was obvious, but she didn't care.
"Where is Mister Brady now?" Michael interjected.
Shanice shrugged. "I have no idea, nor do I care. He's a scumbag."
Michael could appreciate her feelings, but he didn't have time to deal with them. "You must have his home address," he persisted. "We need to talk to him."
"Sure," Shanice replied. She moved over to the telephone stand and scribbled on a piece of paper. Ripping it off the pad she held it out to the dark-haired man. "Here it is," she said softly. "I put his phone number down too."
"Thank you," Michael said, taking the paper and glancing at the address. If he remembered the map correctly, it was about twenty minutes away. Glancing over to Nikita, Michael signalled that it was time to go.
Nikita smiled at Shanice. "Thank you," she said, echoing Michael. "You've been a big help."
Shanice followed them to the door. "Will my sister be okay?" she asked, concern shimmering in her dark eyes. She and Leticia had never been close in that special way that sisters have, but they were family.
"We'll do what we can't to make sure she's all right," Nikita promised, reaching for Shanice Raul's slender hand and giving it a squeeze. She noticed that Michael was already out the door and heading down the driveway. Nikita knew that she had better catch up, or he was liable to leave without her. "I'll call you," Nikita whispered. Then she stepped out the door and ran off.
The drive to Joseph Brady's address was made in silence. Once there, Michael and Nikita wasted no time. They knocked on the door and a small, blond-haired woman answered.
Nikita smiled at her. "Mrs. Brady?" she inquired. When the woman nodded she asked, "Is your husband home? We'd like to talk to him."
Mrs. Brady didn't answer for a moment, she was fighting back tears. But once she had composed herself she replied, "My husband left me three months ago. I don't know where he is."
Michael touched Nikita's arm, then stepped forward. "We're sorry, but it's very important that we find him. Why did he leave you?"
"To be with that Mexican bitch!" Mrs. Brady spat, her eyes filling with tears once more. "She can have him!"
"Do you have any idea at all where they might be?" Michael persisted. Something in the woman's eyes told him that she did know.
After a long pause, Mrs. Brady nodded. "I had a private detective follow him. He and his slut are shacked up in an apartment on Boyer Avenue. Although she hasn't been around much, or so the PI told me last month."
Nikita offered a sympathetic smile. "Thank you for the information. You don't know how important it is." Nor did Nikita tell her. To do so would only incite panic and she wanted to spare the woman any more grief.
"Do you have the name of the apartment building?" Michael asked. It would save time from having to search for it.
"Clifford apartments," Mrs. Brady replied, her eyes glittering. She studied Michael for a moment then asked a question of her own. "What are you going to do when you find my husband?"
Michael shrugged. "Just talk to him."
Mrs. Brady sighed, disappointment apparent on her face. "Too bad. I was hoping you were going to kill him." With that she stepped back inside and closed the door.
"This could be easier than we had hoped," Nikita commented, as she followed Michael back to the ranger.
"I hope you're right," he replied, as he turned the key in the ignition and drove off. They now had less than seventeen hours and it would take nearly an hour to reach downtown.
Nikita knocked on the door of apartment three-seventeen. There was no reply, but from beneath the door they could see a light, so it was assumed that someone was home. A moment later that fact was confirmed when they heard a cry of pain.
The door was locked, but chained, not bolted, so Michael simply kicked it in and he and Nikita strode inside, guns in hand.
"Check the back," Michael whispered, as he headed for the kitchen.
"Right," Nikita replied. She kept to the wall as she glided down the hall. There was a light coming from the last room on the right. She peeped into all the doorways, however, till she reached her destination. Moans were still coming from the last room. Then she glanced inside and caught her breath. "MICHAEL!" Nikita shouted.
He was there in a heartbeat. "What is it?" he asked, but had his answer when he saw the woman lying on the bed. She was drenched in sweat and writhing in pain. She was also very pregnant.
Nikita watched Michael stride over to the bed to check the woman, who had to be Leticia Raul. "Is she okay?" Nikita asked, joining Michael with a bit of hesitation.
"She's in labor," he announced, his expression calm, as always.
"WHAT?" Nikita was no where's near as blase. "Do something!" she hissed, searching about for a phone. "Call a doctor!"
Leticia Raul shook her head. "NO! No doctor!" she screamed.
Michael reached out to smooth a sweat-stained lock of hair out of her eyes. "You need help," he said softly. "You're early."
"No," Leticia countered. "The doctors changed my due date. I'm actually two days late." She paused to bite her lip as another contraction sent pain ripping through her.
"Okay," Michael replied. "We'll help you, but we need your help as well. Where's the virus?"
Leticia locked eyes with the man who stood beside her. She sensed a kindness in him, but a cruelty as well. She knew that it was over for her and Joseph. That she had made a horrible mistake that could cost her the life of her baby. "Joseph has it," she whispered. "He's off to meet with the buyer."
Michael nodded. "Where?"
"The train station," Leticia replied. She shook her head. "That's all I know. Joseph made all the other arrangements."
"What station?" Michael prompted.
Leticia frowned in concentration. "Ummm.....Welles. It's about twenty minutes from here."
Michael noticed a photograph of a gray-haired man on the bedstand. "Is this Joseph?" he asked.
"Yes," Leticia confirmed.
"I'll be soon," Michael said to Nikita, as he studied the photo to put Joseph Brady's likeness to memory.
Nikita grabbed his arm. "I'm coming with you," she protested.
Michael shook his head and looked down at Leticia Raul. "No, Nikita, " he whispered. "You're delivering a baby." With that pronouncement, Michael turned and glided out of the room.
************
Michael stalked through the train station with a singleminded purposeness. He saw everyone he passed as his eyes tracked his surroundings. There were thousands of people there, or so it seemed, but none of them appeared to be Joseph Brady. Glancing down at his watch, Michael resisted the urge to heave a sigh. There were fifteen hours left.
Nikita's first thought, after she heard the front door close behind Michael, was that she needed to wash her hands. So she ran into the adjoining bathroom to do so, cursing Michael all the while that she was soaping her hands and rinsing them under scalding, hot, water. "I'll get even for this one..." Nikita muttered beneath her breath. But in that moment she remembered something that Dominic, the Red Cell leader, had said during the War. His comment about Michael losing his son. Perhaps the child had been a baby and the thought of delivering one brought back painful memories. Nikita found herself blinking back sudden tears that she wiped away with the towel she was using to dry her hands.
All other thoughts disappeared as scream was ripped out of Leticia. Nikita squared her shoulders and ran back into the bedroom. She placed herself at the foot of the bed, between Leticia's legs. "I don't know what I'm doing," Nikita warned, her eyes on the other woman's pain distorted features.
The contraction passed and Leticia fell back against the pillows and began panting. "Just...be here..." she whispered, between breaths. "Next...contraction...I need...to push.."
"Whatever you say," Nikita countered, lifting one hand and using her wrist to brush a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. Her only thought now is that she would prefer being tortured to being here right now.
Michael made two more circuits of the train station and was getting ready to concede defeat, when he spotted Brady. It was a simple matter for him to pull his gun and hide it in the crook of his arm, then walk up behind the man, who was carrying a duffle bag. There was a smile on Joseph Brady's face that put knots in Michael's stomach. Something told him that the bag contained money and the virus had already been sold. Never the less, Michael moved up behind Brady and pressed the gun into the other man's ribs. "Come with me or you die," he whispered.
Joseph Brady didn't want to die, so he complied. "Who are you?" he hissed, as he was guided out of the west exit. He didn't receive a reply until they were standing beside a black ranger.
"I've come for the virus," Michael said, reaching for the duffle bag. He set it on the hood and ordered Brady to open it. Inside were bundles of hundred dollar bills. Michael guessed about two million worth. "Where is it?" he demanded, the gun now pressed below Brady's ear.
"Long gone," the older man replied. He heard the tremble in his voice, even as his palms became sweaty. The young man in black would kill him without blinking. Of that he was certain.
Michael let a cold smile curve his lips. "Gone...where?" he prompted, pressing the gun harder into Brady's skin.
Brady whimpered, then swallowed hard. "To the airport. The man I sold it to is taking a flight out to Central America."
"When did they leave here?" Michael asked.
"About ten minutes ago," Brady replied. Sweat was now trickling down his back.
Michael reached for the duffle bag, then gestured for Brady to get in the passenger side of the ranger and slide over. "Take me there," he ordered, gesturing for Brady to start the vehicle.
With a shaky hand, Brady turned the key in the ignition. Once the engine was purring, he glanced over at the man in black. The gun in his hand was steady. "Who are you?" Brady countered, repeating his earlier question. No one should have known about the virus. He and Leticia had been so careful. Brady was scared, but furious as well. He had been so close to his dream. Another ten minutes and he would have been on a train and heading north. Once there he had a plane waiting to take him to Europe. Him and the two million. And Leticia and her baby would have been a distant memory.
"Who I am doesn't matter," Michael countered, his lips curving into a smile that would have frozen lava. "Go," he ordered.
"Sure," Brady replied. He shifted into gear and drove off.
"PUSH!" Nikita shouted, encouragingly, from where she was bent between Leticia's legs. "I can see the head!"
Leticia was more than happy to oblige. She closed her eyes and pushed with all her might as a scream escaped her. Pain seemed to be tearing her apart and she wanted to rid herself of the baby. She had her wish.
Nikita caught her breath even as she caught the child. Tears blurred her vision as she stared down at the wriggling bundle. She watched the tiny mouth open and close, then a wail erupted from it. "It's...it's a girl," Nikita whispered. She grabbed a linen pillow case and wrapped the baby in it before laying her on Leticia's stomach.
"A girl?" Leticia repeated, as she reached out with one hand to touch her daughter's cheek. She felt the pain and exhaustion fading away as she gazed down at her own little miracle.
"Do you have a name for her?" Nikita inquired, as she moved to the side of the bed.
Leticia shook her head. "What's your name?" she queried.
"Nikita."
"And your friend?" Leticia prompted. She was curious about the man who seemed so enigmatic.
Nikita smiled. "That was Michael." She let one fingertip brush over the baby's head. "I think Nikita is too big a name for such a little girl," she commented, guessing that Leticia was considering that as a choice.
With a nod, Leticia concurred. She was silent for a moment as she considered, then she smiled. "How about, Michaela Nicole?" she queried.
"Michaela Nicole..." Nikita repeated. "I like that," she confirmed. "But...how about we call 911 right now and get you to the hospital?"
"Not until I know that everything is allright," Leticia protested. And she wasn't sure if she was talking about Joseph and the money, or Michael and the virus.
Nikita could guess at Leticia's thoughts, but she was already reaching for the phone. "I can call Michael and let him know what hospital you're at. He'll contact us as soon as he has the virus."
Leticia knew that Nikita was right. She closed her eyes and nodded. "Call." As she listeded to the other woman give her name and address, Leticia couldn't help but wonder if she had robbed her daughter of a chance to live. If Michael couldn't retrieve the virus then Leticia would not be a giver of life, but the giver of death.
Michael's eyes never left Joseph Brady as the man wove in and out of traffic. "Don't speed," Michael warned him. The last thing they needed was to be pulled over.
"What are you going to do to me?" Brady asked, as he slowed down for a red light.
"Don't worry about that," Michael told him. He glanced at the light as well, and watched it turn green. They were just rolling into the intersection when there was the blast of a horn. Michael looked out Brady's window to see a semi bearing down on them. It was running the red light.
Brady saw it as well and stomped on the accelerator, but it was too late. He screamed the front of the semi slammed into the back end of the ranger.
Michael felt the vehicle spin and he was flung hard against the door. A heartbeat later they were upended and rolled. Blackness washed over Michael even before they came to a stop.
As Nikita sat beside Michael's bed in Med Lab, she thought back over the past twenty-four hours. Nine hours after delivering Michaela Nicole, Nikita had paced the floor outside of Leticia Raul's hospital room. Michael had called her on the cell phone, to inform her that he had the virus and it was on ice. Then he directed Nikita to meet him at the airport so they could fly back to Section. Before hanging up, Nikita had told him about Michaela Nicole, and had been puzzled by Michael's silence. But she had let that pass.
Stepping into Leticia's room, Nikita had told her that the virus had been retrieved. The other woman then asked about Joseph Brady, and Nikita had told her that he was dead. Michael hadn't given her details so she had hoped that Leticia wouldn't ask for any. She hadn't. In fact, she had simply appeared relieved, then she had thanked Nikita for her help. Nikita said her goodbyes and left with the promise to thank Michael as well. On the way out of the hospital, Nikita had made a quick phone call to Shanice Raul to inform her that she was an aunt, and to let her know that the crisis was over. She had also let slip what hospital Leticia was at.
Then had come the plane ride back to Section. Nikita had been stunned by Michael's appearance. He was pale with blood on his face and neck, his clothing was tore and there were various scrapes and bruises. After assuring Nikita that he was fine, Michael had explained about the Ranger being totalled by the semi, and that Joseph Brady had died in the crash, but not before telling Michael the name of the man who had purchased the virus, and where he could be located. When the police and EMT's had arrived at the scene of the accident, they found only one passenger in the Ranger. And he was beyond their help. Michael had gone off to retrieve the virus. The buyer would not be seen from again.
Once they had returned to Section, Michael and Nikita had split up to be debriefed. After being excused, Nikita had gone in search of Michael. It was Walter who had informed her that Michael had collapsed in Operations' office. Nikita had run off to Med Lab and had been there ever since. Michael was diagnosed as suffering from broken ribs, internal bleeding and a concussion. Nikita was glad that he had such a hard head.
She shifted in her chair then stood up to stretch cramped muscles. It was then that she became aware of another presence in the room.
Madeline moved to the other side of Michael's bed. She reached out and her fingers smoothed a lock of hair off his forehead, then her eyes met Nikita's. "How is he doing?" she asked.
"Pretty good," Nikita replied, letting a smile of relief curve her lips. "He woke up once and knew who I was. He wanted to leave but the nurse came and gave him a sedative."
"Knowing Michael...he'll be back to work tomorrow," Madeline replied. She exchanged a perceptive glance with Nikita, then stepped away from the bed. "Get some sleep," she advised, in a motherly tone. Then she was gone.
Nikita heaved a sigh, stretched once more, then curled up in the chair. She wasn't going anywhere.
Two days later, Michael was in his office, busily typing at this laptop, when Nikita strolled in. She dropped into the chair across from him and waited, quietly, until Michael stopped typing and lifted his eyes to meet hers.
"Did you want something?" he inquired, politely enough. But it was obvious that he was rather irritated by the intrusion.
"Can I ask you a question?" Nikita countered, A thoughful look on her face.
Michael resisted the urge to heave a sigh and nodded. "What is it?"
Nikita chose her words carefully. "I've been thinking about Leticia and the baby, and I couldn't help but wonder..." she broke off here and her glance flickered away from Michael's.
"About what?" he prompted, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands in his lap. Whatever Nikita's question, it was obviously important to her, and Michael wanted to be able to give her an answer. She had earned that much.
"Do you ever think about your son?" The question was blurted out before Nikita could lose her courage. She let her eyes lock on Michael's face and detected a flicker of reaction in his silver-green gaze. But his face remained a beautiful, expressionless mask. When the silence between them became heavy, Nikita was prepared to apologize.
Michael lifted one hand to cut her off, then a gentle smile curved his lips. Soft as a whisper he replied, "Sometimes...I wish I could forget him."
Nikita was stunned by that admission, but she leaned forward, hoping for more. She frowned when Michael switched off his computer then stood up and headed for the door. "Where are you going?" she queried, feeling that it was no time for him to leave since they were finally making progress in the trust department.
"Briefing," Michael replied. He walked out, but poked his head back in a moment later. "You coming?" he queried, a genuine smile lighting up his eyes.
"Is it by invitation only?" Nikita teased, an answering smile on her own face.
Michael inclined his head, briefly. "Of course," he replied, then he was gone.
Nikita rose from her chair to follow him. As she watched Michael glide down the corridor with that sensual grace that was uniquely his, an intriguing thought filled her head. Someday, if she could ever muster up the courage, Nikita was determined to shock a reaction out of Michael. And she knew just how to do it. When Michael was least expecting it, Nikita would reach out and tweak his adorable tush. Laughter bubbled out of Nikita as she envisioned the expression on Michael's face. And she was still laughing when she entered the conference room. Four pairs of eyes glared at her, but she ignored them to focus her attention on Michael. As she sat down beside him, Nikita gave him a wink.
Michael couldn't even begin to imagine what was going on in Nikita's head, but something told him to beware.
THE END
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