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Nikita followed Michael through the shadows. He moved with silent stealth, making his way through the store to the back section where the office was located. For once she was rather looking forward to the mission. The woman they were to capture deserved what ever hell Section put her through, as far as Nikita was concerned. Operations hadn't gone into details, but he had explained that Cynthia Wang was connected to the plane crash that had killed nearly two hundred school children from Brazil. Nikita wanted her to suffer.
Upon reaching the office, they saw a light from within. The door was made of thick steel, but had a foot square window. Michael and Nikita took positions on either side, then Michael peeked in. "She's there," he whispered to Nikita, for he had seen a figure sitting at the desk. "On three." Michael counted, his hand reaching for the door handle. At *three* he pulled it open, his gun ready to fire.
The woman at the desk didn't scream. Not even when Nikita ran forward and shoved her gun in her face. Nor did she look at Nikita. She was staring at Michael. Frowning, Nikita turned to see that Michael was staring at Cynthia Wang as well, and the expression on his face startled her. He looked as if he had seen a ghost. But what worried Nikita most was that he had lowered his gun. "Michael?" she questioned, a bad feeling creeping over her.
"Simone..." he whispered, moving forward. But slowly, as if fighting his way through a heavy current of water. "No..." Michael's breath quickened and he blinked back tears. "It can't be."
"What is going on here?" Nikita demanded. Her gun was still leveled at Cynthia Wang. "Talk to me, Michael."
He managed to focus his attention on Nikita for a moment. "Put your gun down," he ordered, his voice a hoarse whisper. When Nikita didn't move to obey, Michael stepped forward and grabbed her wrist, yanking the gun away from the other woman's head. His eyes locked with Nikita's. "You don't understand," he breathed.
Nikita nodded. "You're right. I don't." She pulled her wrist from Michael's grasp. "So why don't you explain it to me. NOW!" Nikita's eyes flashed blue sparks. "Why did you call her Simone? Who is she, Michael?" For it was obvious that they knew each other.
"My wife," Michael whispered. He held Nikita's gaze for a moment, seeing stunned disbelief shimmer across her beautiful face. But then he turned away, going to the other woman. He put his gun down on the desk, then reached out and cupped her face in his trembling hands. "My god....how can this be?"
Simone offered a shaky smile. "I'm sorry, Michael," she replied, her hands lifting to cover his. "I never meant to hurt you."
Nikita found herself stepping back till she was propped up against the wall. She needed it's support. She felt as if she were intruding, yet there was no way in hell she was going to leave. Not until she understood what was happening. All she knew for certain was that she had never seen Michael like this before. Tears shimmered in his beautiful eyes, and his body trembled with the force of his emotions. It was a shock to Nikita to realize that beneath his *ice man* facade and the cool detachment that he wore like body armor, Michael was passionate and filled with love and pain and ardor. And in this moment she had never seen him so vulnerable. It was breaking her heart.
Michael let his fingertips trace the lines and curves of Simone's face. As if to reassure himself that she was real. Warm flesh and blood with a beating heart. "I watched you die," he whispered. "Three years ago."
Simone shook her head. "No, Michael. You watched me get shot, and go down. Then you took a hit in the leg and couldn't come for me. The helicopter came and took you away." She shrugged. "Section left me behind for dead."
"I left you behind!" Michael hissed, his voice breaking.
"NO!" Simone buried her fingers in Michael's hair, making him face her when he would have turned away. "Don't blame yourself for what happened."
It was here that Nikita felt compelled to interject. "Exactly what did happen?" she queried. Her tone was cold and she directed the question at the other woman.
Simone turned to look at her, her dark eyes shimmering like black ice. "I wasn't dead," she said calmly. "I got up and I walked away. Ran away, is more like it." Simone returned her gaze to Michael. A smile softened her harsh expression. "I was free, Michael. Free of Section. I took what we had always dreamed of for ourselves. My only regret is that you weren't with me. That...and knowing that you believed I was dead." Simone stood on tiptoe to brush a kiss against his lips. "There were so many times that I came close to going back, Michael," she said softly. "At the very least, I wanted to call you. But I knew Section would trace me, and then find me. And in the end we would both be punished."
"I understand," Michael told her. He pulled Simone into his arms and held her tight.
Nikita dropped her eyes, unable to watch. She wished that she could give them some privacy, but there wasn't time for that. After a long moment had passed, she spoke. "Michael....we have a mission here. Remember?" Nikita felt for him but, regardless of the fact that Simone was his wife, she was still involved in the plane wreck and connected to people that Section needed to find. They had to bring her in.
Michael met Nikita's gaze and knew what she was thinking. He shook his head. "No. We're not bringing her in. I won't do that."
"We have no choice!" Nikita shot back. She had to make him see that. "Michael... I'm sorry, but there's nothing else we can do."
Simone pushed out of Michael's arm to confront Nikita. "I won't go back!" she snarled. "You have no idea of what they would do to me. That's not gonna happen."
Michael grasped Simone's shoulder. "I won't let them have you," he said softly. "We're ghosts, Simone. We can disappear."
Nikita was stunned by his words. "Michael...what are you saying?" she demanded.
"I'm not going back to Section, Nikita," he replied, his voice harsh. He turned to glare at the beautiful blond. "I lost Simone once already. I won't do it again. I'm going with her."
"You can't!" Nikita heard the desperation in her voice, even as she stepped forward to grasp Michael's arm. "How many times have you reminded me that there's no escaping the Section? And they will never let you go, Michael. You know that."
Michael shoved Nikita from him. "I don't care!" he snarled. He turned back to Simone. "We can do this. We can be together." As he spoke,Michael's eyes shimmered with unshed tears.
Simone smiled at him. "All right, Michael. But we have to go now. I have some money. Let me get it." She pulled away from him and turned back to the desk.
Nikita felt sick to her stomach. If Michael left with Simone, it was as good as a suicide pact. Section would hunt them down and wouldn't stop till they were both dead. That much Nikita was sure of. She realized that Michael was in shock at seeing Simone alive, so he wasn't thinking clearly. She grabbed him by the arm and shoved him up against the wall. Then she got in his face. She wasn't going to let him die. "You can't do this, Michael!" Nikita shouted. "You can't be free! You know that better than I do."
"I don't care," Michael whispered hoarsely. His eyes locked with Nikita's. "I'd rather die with Simone than lose her again. I can't let her go. Don't you understand?"
"I do..." Nikita began, only to be cut off by the sound of a slamming door. She turned even as Michael shoved her aside. Simone was gone.
Michael ran to the door but it wouldn't open. He screamed in frustration and pounded on it, shouting Simone's name. But then he fell silent, as he saw her standing on the other side. His gun was in her hand. She had taken it off of the desk.
Nikita couldn't see Simone, but she could hear her. The other woman's voice was oddly monotone and it chilled Nikita.
"I'm sorry, Michael," Simone said.
"NO! SIMONE...DON'T!" Michael screamed, both fists pounding on the door as he watched her press the muzzle of the gun beneath her chin. "NO!"
Simone's voice was an eerie whisper. "I love you, Michael."
Nikita flinched as she heard the gunshot, but her eyes were locked on Michael. His breathing was ragged and for a moment he was as still as a statue. But then he turned around and, with his back against the door, slid down till he was sitting on the floor. Tears flowed down his face and Nikita had to blink back her own. She said his name, but he didn't hear her. Her own heart breaking at the sight of him, Nikita went to Michael and took him in her arms.
***********
Nikita paced outside the door of Madeline's office. She and Michael had found a way out of through a side window and Nikita had been surprised that Michael had, willingly left, without going to back to see Simone's body. It was Nikita who had retrieved his gun. But, once back at Section, they had to face the music. Walter had met them with the news that Madeline and Operations' wanted to see Michael immediately. Nikita's debriefing had taken less than two hours. Michael had been with Madeline and Operation for over six. She was worried about him. He had been in a zombie like state after leaving the store.
Just as Nikita was about to muster up the courage to pound on the door, it opened. She held her breath as Michael came walking out. He looked pale, and there were shadows beneath his eyes. "You okay?" she asked, reaching out to touch his arm.
"I will be," Michael replied, almost too softly to hear. The concern mirrored in Nikita's eyes touched him, but it was also hard to face, so his eyes flickered over her shoulder. "I want to thank you."
"For what?" Nikita countered, a frown marring her brow.
Michael glanced back at her. A soft smile curved his lips. "You lied for me," he said.
Nikita knew what he meant. Her debriefing. On the drive back to Section, Michael had been silent, affording Nikita time to think. So many things had fallen into place. Like the hasty briefing Madeline had given them about this mission. Nikita and Michael had been called into her office and told they had a pick up to perform and that it was a rush job. She had given them a quick history on Cynthia Wang, but didn't show any artwork on the woman. Now Nikita knew why. Michael would have recognized her at once as Simone.
Section had set him up on this mission. No doubt testing him. It's what they did best. If Michael hadn't been so shocked at seeing Simone alive again, he would have realized it himself...then. They both would have. Nikita believed his *thank you* was, in part, Michael's way of letting her know that he realized it now. She smiled at him. "You're welcome," she said, sincerely. Nikita knew that in the past Michael had protected her, mostly from herself, in his own way. So now she had returned the favor.
"I'll see you later," Michael whispered, moving to step around Nikita.
"Wait." Nikita put a hand on his chest. "Why don't we go get a cup of coffee?" she invited. She didn't want him to be alone. Michael was hurting and Nikita wanted to help him. Even if he didn't want to talk, at least she could be a comforting presence. So she held her breath as she waited for his reply.
Michael held Nikita's gaze for a moment, then looked away. He took a deep breath, released it slowly, then said, "I'd love to." When Nikita reached for his hand, Michael curled his fingers around hers and followed her down the corridor, glad that she couldn't see the shadows in his eyes.
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