The moment that Nikita entered Madeline's office, she could feel the tension in the air. She knew it's source. Her new trainer, Jurgen, was perched on the corner of Madeline's desk, chatting with the dark-haired woman as if they were old chums. Michael, on the other hand, was on the other side of the room. He seemed to be engrossed in the electronic file in his hand, but Nikita sensed that he was fully attuned to the other occupants in the room.

Stiding over to Madeline's desk, Nikita queried, "Am I late?"

Madeline turned away from Jurgen and smiled at the beautiful blond. "Not at all," she replied, gesturing for Nikita to take a seat. She did the same to draw Michael's attention, then moved behind her desk. Jurgen remained perched on the corner. "This briefing will be..brief. Jurgen will be able to fill you in on details while on the plane. You leave in an hour."

"Jurgen?" Nikita interjected, her eyes flickering over to Michael. He was the one who always filled the team in on the details, and she was certain that Madeline had told her he was part of the mission.

"That's right," Madeline confirmed. She knew what Nikita was thinking and explained. "Jurgen is the senior operative on this mission, Nikita. He'll be team leader."

Nikita's first thought was that Michael was being punished. She considered voicing that opinion, but one look at Michael's face, silenced her. He would not appreciate her interference. "So...what's the mission, and where are we going?"

"You're going to Mexico," Madeline replied. "Michael is fluent in the language, which works in our favor."

"What's in Mexico?" Nikita prompted.

Jurgen answered her. "A man by the name of Vincent Chifano. He's a model's photographer and he's in Mexico doing a shoot for a perfume add. It's called Hot Ice."

Nikita nodded. "So...what's the deal with Mr. Chifano?"

"He's a mule," Madeline replied. "He smuggles drugs and various other items in his camera cases."

"Instead of film," Nikita guessed. She smiled when Jurgen nodded. "Are we out to stop him?"

Madeline shook her head. "No. We need to know who he works for. We know it's a corporation, but it has a silent CEO. We need a name."

Nikita leaned back in her chair. "So how do we play this? I seduce Chifano?"

"You're going to model for him," Jurgen replied, letting his eyes roam over Nikita. She was dressed in white jeans and a blue sweater and he let her see in the reflection of his gaze that she was beautiful.

"Model..." Nikita echoed, heaving a sigh. "I don't think I'll be very good at it," she protested.

Madeline smiled at her. "You'll do just fine, Nikita. Jurgen will be playing your manager, but we've already arranged for you to be hired as the female model."

Nikita grimaced. "Female model? There's someone else?"

"A male model named Tony," Madeline explained. "He's Australian and we don't think he's involved in any way. He's just a guy that Vincent likes to use in his work."

"I see," Nikita drawled. She knew she shouldn't ask, but found that she couldn't stop herself. "What about Michael?"

Jurgen shifted his gaze to the other man and found himself staring into silver-green ice. No reaction, just cool assessment in return. "Michael will be your body guard, Nikita," Jurgen explained. "We've set up a background for you where you've had problems with an old boyfriend, a rich guy, and he's made threats. So you have a fulltime body guard."

Nikita bit her lip. "The point being?" she questioned, not understanding where Michael fit in.

"Michael will be able to keep close watch on Chifano, and do some looking around. He'll also provide the muscle, should Chifano need to be convinced to cooperate," Madeline explained.

"Why don't we just nab the guy and bring him in for questioning?" Nikita countered, giving Madeline a knowing look. The woman could make a mute talk.

A cold smile curved Madeline's lips. "We don't want to make the corporation suspicious. We have to work quietly, without making waves." With that she stood up, signalling that the briefing was over. "If you have any further questions, Nikita, discuss them with Jurgen."

Nikita looked over at the blond man, who was smiling at her, then stood up and headed for the door. She still didn't know what to think of the man. Of course, it had only been a few weeks since her return to Section. This was her first mission since coming back. Jurgen was the polar opposite of Michael in both looks, and personality. Nikita found herself liking him, yet there was something about him that disturbed her. Still, in a way, he was a relief. Unlike Michael, Jurgen always answered her questions. He didn't play mind games and, so far, she hadn't caught him out in a lie. But she pushed those thoughts aside. Right now she wanted only to focus on the mission. Nikita knew that her status in Section one was dependent on her performance. And she did not want to fail.

Jurgen followed Nikita out of the office, after nodding to Madeline. Michael made to do the same, but stopped when Madeline stepped in front of him.

"Stay for a moment, Michael," she beseeched him, gesturing to the chair that Nikita had vacated.

"What is it?" Michael countered, looking at the chair, but not moving.

Madeline didn't respond immediately. Instead she studied Michael, searching his face for a sign of what he was feeling, but his emotional mask was firmly in place. He revealed nothing. "How do you feel about Jurgen calling the shots?" she said suddenly, firing the question at him.

Michael shrugged. "He's senior op. It's standard proceedure."

"That's all?" Madeline prompted.

"What do you want me to say, Madeline?" Michael countered, letting a cold smile curve his lips. "That I like him? I don't. Do I feel as if I'm being punished..or tested?" This prompted a genuine smirk. " When aren't I?"

Madeline sighed. "Nikita's return is..suspicious..at best, Michael," she said softly. "You know that. So we can't be too careful."

Michael locked eyes with her and said, "I don't require and explanation, Madeline. Is that all?"

"That's all," she confirmed. As she watched Michael glide out of the room, Madeline couldn't help but wonder just how far he could be trusted. Before Nikita, Michael's loyalty to Section was undisputed. But since her arrival, there was no doubt that he would risk it all to protect her. And that was Madeline's fault, for she was the one who had pushed them together. Only now it was too late to change things. Madeline wanted to save both Michael and Nikita, but if she had to chose...then Nikita would be sacrificed. This mission would decide Nikita's fate.

The plane ride to the location in Mexico went surprisingly well. Nikita was surprised that Michael seemed to have no problem with taking orders from Jurgen. But then she reminded herself that he always put the mission first. Even when he was protecting her, Michael found a way to get the job done. Still, she was tempted to ask how he felt about Jurgen being in charge, but didn't. Michael didn't seem inclined to talk. Nothing new.

Once landing in Mexico, they didn't waste any time. They took a limo straight to the shoot, and Jurgen introduced her to Vincent Chifano. In keeping with his part as her manager, Jurgen had already spoken to Chifano on the phone.

Nikita didn't think much of the photographer. He was in his late thirties, with slicked back hair and a cheesy grin. That he thought he was God's gift to women was obvious in every word and action, but Nikita played her part and let him fawn over her. But she couldn't help smirk at the thought of siccing Michael on him. All his *macho* posturing aside, Nikita was certain he would go down in one punch. The muscles he showed off in a tank top were mostly for show. Nikita knew the type.

Vincent was entranced by Nikita, exclaiming over her beauty and explaining how perfect she would be for the ad. They would shoot a series of shots, all depicting the differences between man and woman. Hot and Cold, Light and Dark.

"So...when do we start?" Nikita asked, after Vincent gave her and Jurgen the tour of the site. A marble fountain in a park-like area. It was beautiful, and hot. She glanced over her shoulder to see Michael hovering close by. He was dressed in his usual black, including a blazer, his only concession to the sun, a pair of sunglasses. Where as Nikita was sweltering in a white, sun dress.

"Well...I'm waiting on Tony," Vincent confessed, his smile slipping a little. He should have been here over an hour ago. But, I'm sure it won't be long." He took Nikita's arm and led her over to a small trailer. "Why don't you get dressed and do hair and make up. Tony should be here by the time you're finished and we'll get to work." He made to brush a kiss across Nikita's hand, but stepped back when Michael suddenly appeared.

In keeping with his role as body guard, Michael was making certain that Vincent was leery of him. He took Nikita's arm, helped her up the trailer steps, then took a stance in front of the door.

Laughing to himself, Jurgen moved to Vincent and engaged the man in conversation. Making an attempt to learn more about the corporation.

When Nikita exited the trailer, she found Michael waiting outside. She also heard shouting. It was Vincent. She could see he was pacing and waving his hands, and it looked like Jurgen was trying to calm him. "What's going on, Michael," she queried, with genuine curiosity.

Michael shrugged. "Tony arrived, battered and stoned. Got in a fight. He's useless so it looks like the shoot is postponed....and Chifano is not taking it well."

"I guess not," Nikita drawled. She was about to say more but Jurgen was coming towards them, Vincent on his heels.

"Did Michael tell you about Tony?" Jurgen queried.

Nikita nodded. "So....what happens now?"

Jurgen smiled. "I think we've found a way to continue the shoot. All we need is a replacement for Tony."

"Who?" Nikita asked, in complete innocence.

"Michael," Jurgen replied, his grin threatening to split his face as he locked eyes with the other man.

Nikita was stunned. Not that it didn't make sense, for Michael was the most beautiful man she had ever known. But, she couldn't see him...modeling. She looked at him and saw a flicker of surprise shimmer in his eyes, then over to Vincent. The photographer was studying Michael from head to toe.

Nodding he exclaimed, "Perfect! Absolutely perfect." He reached out and snatched the sunglasses off Michael's face and sighed. "More beatiful than Tony, and far more sensual. The perfect compliment to Nikita. She looks like cool eyes but is really hot passion. And Michael...you look hot and mysterious, but are....cold and detached. Yet...I sense that you know passion. This is fantastic!" Vincent turned to Jurgen. "Wonderful idea, my friend. You have saved me a fortune today. After the shoot I will take you all to my favorite resturant, to celebrate. Meanwhile, let's get started. Shall we?"

"No." This from Michael.

Everyone turned to look at him.

He stared back, unwavering. "Find someone else," he whispered.

"Excuse us for one moment, won't you?" Jurgen countered, stepping forward. "Michael and I need to talk."

Nikita watched Michael hesitate, then then the operative took over and he followed Jurgen off. She was tempted to follow but felt a hand on her arm, so she turned to face Vincent.

He grinned at her. "Michael...he is beautiful..no?"

"He is..." Nikita whispered. "More than you know."

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

Jurgen took Michael far enough aside so that they would not be overheard. Then he simply stared at the other man for a moment, but should have known he would receive no reaction. Still, Jurgen let the silence between them grow deafening. It was his job to watch over Michael and Nikita. Madeline had her suspicions as to Nikita's return. She wanted to know if Michael could still be trusted, and if there was anything between him and Nikita. Thanks to Tony, Jurgen believed he had found the perfect way to test Michael. And Nikita, for that matter. If anyone would betray the relationship between the two, it would be the beautiful blond. Finally, Jurgen spoke. "Michael...I thought it was understood that I am team leader on this mission."

"It's understood," Michael replied, his eyes locked with Jurgen's yet betraying nothing of what he felt. Right now he would have liked to deck the guy, and he couldn't even explain why. There was something about the man that bothered Michael. And it went beyond the fact that Jurgen had replaced him as Nikita's mentor.

"Good," Jurgen drawled. "Then we have no problem. You'll do as I say and model with Nikita."

Michael took a deepath, then blinked. "I don't think I'd be very convincing," he countered, steel underlying the softness of his voice.

Jurgen smiled, letting his eyes roam over Michael slowly. They were both alpha males, predators, and capable of doing what it took to get the job done. But there was a big difference between them. Jurgen didn't feel regret...nor remourse. Michael did. He hid his feelings well behind a beautiful mask. But the silver-green eyes betrayed him. Nikita was his weakness, and Jurgen would extort it. "I think you'll be very, convincing," he stated firmly. "As Chifano said, you're the perfect complement to Nikita. Darkness to her light....and both of you so beautiful....and sensual. It's perfect for our mission."

"Is it?" Michael parried. But that was all he said.

"Do the job, Michael," Jurgen hissed. He moved to stand behing the other man, to whisper in his ear. "Don't ruin things for Nikita. She's being tested on this mission and we both know it. Now...what's it gonna be?"

Michael didn't step away from Jurgen, but turned to face him. They were eye to eye. Michael didn't blink. "Nikita can take care of herself," he whispered. Then he smiled.

Jurgen stepped back and nodded. "You're right. But can you take care of yourself, Michael? I think that might be the real question."

"I'll do the job," Michael conceded. And, so saying, he turned and walked back to where Nikita and Vincent were standing. He heard footsteps behind him as Jurgen followed.

Once they had reached Chifano, Jurgen offered a big grin. "We're all set," he announced, his eyes flickering over to Nikita, then away. "Vincent, we have our model."

Chifano was thrilled. He went to Michael then lifted his hands to Michael's hair, his fingers touseling the cinnamon strands so that the natural curl reappeard. Then the began tugging on the jacket Michael wore.

Nikita was stunned to see Michael remain utterly still and unreactive while Chifano fussed over him. She wondered what Jurgen had said to him to get Michael to change his mind about the modeling. But Nikita couldn't even begin to imagine what it might have been.

"Perfect!" Chifano exclaimed, as Michael removed his blazer to reaveal he wore a black tank top underneath. "No need for wardrobe," Chifano crowed. "We'll go with this." He turned to Nikita and took her hand, pulling her over to stand beside Michael. She was wearing a white satin, slip dress, her legs bare.

"What's the set up?" Jurgen inquired, as he stood to the side and studied Michael and Nikita. They were a perfect compliment to each other, physically. Nearly the same height, but Nikita looked cool and fragile, whereas Michael was the essance of strength and...heat. Jurgen wondered if Michael realized that he exuded sexual heat like a flame. A flame that warmed Nikita.

Chifano took hold of Michael and Nikita and dragged them over to the fountain. He positioned them so that they were facing each other, then he headed for his camera. Once he was certain that the lighting and focus were to his liking, he waved to his assistant and music filled the air. Soft and thready, a hot-cold jazz beat. "Let the music guide you," Chifano directed and he peered through his camera. "Look at each other with passion. Then touch each other. Use your senses...and your fingers."

Nikita looked at Chifano, startled by his directions. Then she glanced over at Jurgen, who was smiling, then back to Michael. She let him see that she was uncertain.

"Nikita..." Michael whispered her name. He blocked out Chifano and Jurgen, knowing that he could get through this only one way. By focusing on the woman who was a part of his soul. They would give Chifano what he wanted, yet take what they needed at the same time. Michael could guess what Jurgen was hoping for. That the man was there as much as Madeline's watch dog, as team leader. "Beautiful.." Michael breathed, one hand lifting to touch Nikita's face. And it was the truth. She was more beautiful than any woman had a right to be.

"Beautiful..." Nikita echoed, her own hands lifting. She knew what Michael was doing so she followed his lead. The fingertips of one hand danced over his rock-hard biceps, while the others tapped beneath his chin.

Michael closed his eyes for a moment. A part of his mind heard the whir and snap of Chifano's camera as the man clicked off shots of them. But for the most part, his senses were filled with Nikita. With the memory of when he had held her in his arms and kissed her from head to toe. Of the softness of her skin as she lay on top of him, gloriously naked, her silky hair framing his face as they kissed. His fingertips moved to brush the curve of Nikita's mouth, remembering the taste of her. He let the memory shimmer in hie eyes, the reflection of his passion.

Nikita swallowed hard as she took a step forward. Her fingers glided into Michael's hair, letting the silky strands cool the heat the flushed her skin. She was remembering how beautiful Michael had been. So often Nikita had dreamed about making love to him. Her eyes had undressed him countless of times during briefings, or while on missions. The clingy, black, clothes that Michael favored had fevered her imagination..and her flesh. Outlining sleek muscles yet hiding the smooth skin. Satin over steel...that's what Nikita had thought the first time she had undressed him. Light and dark..hot and cold...fire and ice. That was Michael. Nikita licked her lips as the image of him naked flashed in her mind. He was like a statue. Made of cool, sculptured, marble...but that was the illusion he liked to present. For Michael was warm flesh and hot blood. His passion had made Nikita dizzy. No one had ever made her feel that way before. No one could, except Michael.

Chifano, who was clicking off shots, was ecstatic. He felt himself becoming aroused as he watched, for the sexual heat between Nikita and Michael was viable. But he wanted even more. "Kiss.." he instructed them, licking his own lips in anticipation.

"Sweetness..." Michael whispered, as he cupped Nikita's face in his hands. Then he bent his head and let his tongue tease the corner of her mouth.

Nikita swallowed back a moan as Michael nibbled at her bottom lip. He continued to tease her with the promise of a kiss until Nikita wanted to scream. Her fingers were still tangled in his hair and they tightened now, holding Michael's head still. Then she locked eyes with him, letting her desire show, before crushing her mouth to his.

From the sidelines, Jurgen smiled.

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

The shoot was a success. Vincent was exuberant and wanted to share his happiness so he took the trio to dinner at the most expensive resturant he could find. As they lingered over dessert and wine, Vincent explained that tomorrow they would should at the ruins near La Madre beach.

Michael had been mostly silent during the meal, till now. "Tomorrow?" he echoed, his eyes flickering over to Jurgen.

The blond man nodded. "I thought you understood, Michael. This is a three day shoot," Jurgen drawled. "This is a very big campaign. Isn't that right, Vincent?"

"Absolutely, my friend," the photographer confirmed. His eyes glowed with excitement as he leaned forward, his eyes locked on both Nikita and Michael, who were seated next to each other. "This ad is going to make all of us rich." He meant in more ways than one, but that was no one elses business but his own. In fact, he would have to excuse himself in about an hour, to take a meeting.

"Rich is good," Nikita responded, a smile curving her lips.

A samba beat suddenly filled the air as the band began to play. Jurgen rose to his feet and offered his hand to Nikita. "Dance with me?" he requested. There was no doubt in his mind that she would accept.

Nikita glanced at Michael before pushing back her chair, but he betrayed no reaction. He simply held her gaze for a moment, then glanced back down at the wine in his glass. Supressing a sigh, Nikita took Jurgen's hand and let him lead her out onto the dance floor to the left of their table. A moment later she found his arm tight about her waist as she was pressed to the length of his hard body. "Don't step on my feet," Nikita warned him, only half teasing.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Jurgen replied, a smile curving his lips. He locked eyes with Nikita, his commanding gaze holding her captive. Jurgen knew that the beautiful blond was besotted with Michael. Not hard to understand why. Michael was a dark angel. Beautiful, mysterious, charming. He symbolized strength of mind, body and character and women were drawn to those traits in a man, in spite of themselves. But Jurgen felt that Nikita deserved more than what the Ice Prince could offer her. Michael was an emotional cripple, and trapped by Section. He was their prized puppet. Jurgen, on the other hand, had no strings attached to him. He was an independent power, and he knew he could give Nikita was she needed...and deserved. And he was looking forward to seducing her away from Michael. The other man was his equal in some ways, but Jurgen would prove his superiority in the end. For now, he would seduce Nikita with romance...and the dance.

"You've done this before," Nikita commented, as Jurgen guided her through the complicated steps of the sultry Samba. He made it easy to move to the sensual beat and to let go of her inhabitions.

Jurgen let his hands glide from Nikita's hips up her back, then to her sides, his thumbs barely brushing the curve of her breasts. She was wearing a halter dress, so her flesh was warm beneath his palms. "Dancing is freedom, Nikita," Jurgen drawled. He let his fingertips dance up and down her spine as he spoke.

Nikita felt a delicious shiver ripple through her and was stunned. She wasn't particularly attracted to Jurgen. Not that he wasn't attractive, and he had a definitive charm. But her heart and soul belonged to Michael. She was sure of it. Yet Jurgen's passion and his bluntness was appealing. From the moment they had met he had been nothing less than honest with her. Nikita reminded herself that since her return to Section, Michael had made an effort to be open and honest with her as well. Yet she couldn't shake the feeling that he was hiding things from her. That bothered her, in spite of what had happened between them. In spite of the fact that she had wanted to return to Section, in large part, because she couldn't let Michael go from her heart. "There's no such thing as freedom," Nikita whispered, feeling breathless as Jurgen suddenly dipped her over his arm.

"Freedom is a state of mind, Nikita," he replied. He leaned over her, his lips a breath away from hers. In that moment Jurgen knew that Nikita would have let him kiss her, but it was too soon. So he lifted her back up, then did a slow turn.

"In Section, it's a cruel dream," Nikita countered. "I think I know that better than anyone."

Jurgen shook his head. "Michael is the expert in that department. He's trapped by his own psyche."

Nikita smiled as she gazed into Jurgen's eyes. Surprisingly hypnotic eyes. "So....you're a psychologist now as well?" she taunted, to regain her cool composure.

"I'm whatever I need to be, Nikita," Jurgen countered softly. "But I never forget who I really am."

"And who would that be?" Nikita challenged. But even as she awaited a response, the music stopped and Jurgen was leading her back over to the table. Nikita thanked him for the dance, but didn't sit down. Instead she stood in front of Michael. "Dance with me," she requested, holding out one hand. Nikita wanted to feel his strong arms around her and the sensual rythmn of his hard body pressed against her.

But Michael knew the game that Jurgen was playing, even if Nikita didn't, and he refused to participate in it. Still, he offered a smile as he declined her offer. "I'm not feeling well," Michael said, rising to his feet. He looked at Jurgen. "May I be excused?" Michael queried. He was still playing the role of body guard and needed to stay in character. But the words nearly choked him.

Jurgen nodded. "Of course, Michael. Get some sleep. We need you looking your best come morning for the shoot."

"Bed sounds good," Chifano chimed in, also rising to his feet. "It's been a long day." He bowed to them all. "I will see you all at La Madre, don't be late."

"We won't be," Jurgen assured him. He watched Michael walk towards the exit, with Chifano on his heels. Then he looked at Nikita, who was smiling, yet he felt her pain. She felt rebuffed by Michael. Pity. "Come sit and share a glass of wine with me," Jurgen beseeched her.

Nikita sighed then dropped into the chair that Michael had vacated. She tried to remind herself that he was protecting their relationship by remaining aloof, but it hurt just the same. "I want a tequila," Nikita stated, her eyes flashing as she forced herself to dissolve the pain...as well as the image of Michael.

Jurgen laughed. "Tequila it is," he conceeded, signalling to a waiter. He ordered two and when they arrived he toasted Nikita. "To freedom!"

"To freedom..." she echoed. Then she drained her glass in one, smooth, swallow.

Michael exited the resturant and stood in the warm darkness for a moment. He bid Chifano goodnight and watched as the man stepped into a blue sedan. Michael waved as the other man pulled away then headed in the opposite direction, heading for the alley at the side of the resturant. A moment later he was on a motorcycle and roaring off into the night in Chifano's wake. His mind was focused on the mission, for he knew that Chifano would lead him to the mark they were looking for. But Michael's heart bore the reflection of Nikita. And in his mind's eye he saw the image of her smile and heard the sound of her laughter as she danced in the arms of another man.

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

When Nikita finally went to bed, she was more than a little tipsy. But that was okay with her. She had laughed and danced with Jurgen, and it was fun. Nikita had almost forgotten what fun was. So when she returned to her room, after evading a kiss from Jurgen, Nikita had peeled off her clothes slipping, nude, beneath the sheets. She had stranges dreams, however. Michael was in them and so was Jurgen, and Nikita was trapped between the two men. Michael was telling her to chose, and Jurgen told her she could have whatever she wanted. She didn't have to chose.

The sun was streaming into the room when Nikita finally opened her eyes. She yawned and stretched, then happened to glance over towards the window. "Michael.." she whispered. He was standing in the corner, staring out into the sunlight. That the sheet had dropped, baring her breasts, didn't faze Nikita. She saw Michael turn and stare at her and she smiled back. "What are you doing here?"

"Get dressed," Michael said shortly, moving to scoop Jeans and a t-shirt off a chair and tossing them at Nikita.

"What's going on?" she questioned, sliding out of bed. She could feel tension vibrating from Michael, and it frightened her.

Michael turned away from Nikita as she slipped into her clothing. "We're going back, plane leaves in twenty minutes," he replied, in answer to her question.

Nikita was confused. "What about the mission?"

"It's been completed," Michael whispered.

"When?" Nikita combed her fingers through her touseled mane as she crossed the room to join Michael. She felt rebuffed by his detachment, so different from what had been between them since her return to Section. When he didn't answer she prompted, "How?"

Michael resisted the urge to sigh. Nikita's nearness was a distraction he couldn't afford. He stepped away from her, heading for the door. But paused with his hand on the knob. "I followed Chifano last night. He led me to his contact, so we now have the name that we needed."

Nikita nodded. "Where's Chifano now?"

"He's...dead," Michael replied. But that was all. No explanation was neccessary, to his mind.

"What about Jurgen?" Nikita countered. She saw Michael jerk in reaction to her question and was surprised.

Michael opened the door. "He left two hours ago."

Nikita made to cross the room, but Michael glided out, closing the door behind him. "Dammit!" she hissed, as anxiety washed over her. Nikita the old tension wash over her. Yet something new as well. Michael was different towards her now. Ever since Jurgen. Nikita knew something was up, and she wanted to know what. But Michael had shut her out, more completely than before. Heaving a sigh of frustration, Nikita gathered her belongings and stuffed them in her duffle bag. Knowing Michael, he wouldn't wait for her if she was late.

After closing the door to Nikita's room, Michael stood in the hallway, feeling frozen. He knew that he had acted badly, and that he was hurting her. But he couldn't help himself. The pain he was feeling overwhelmed him. Michael hated losing control, but he was walking the edge and about to tip over. As he forced his muscles to obey his command, and walk away, Michael wondered if Nikita realized that in her sleep she had whispered Jurgen's name. Just the memory of it pierced Michael's heart...like a knife.

Jurgen reached Section in record time. He went directly to Madeline's office and debriefed. She was pleased that they had gotten the name so quickly, and Jurgen was quick to praise Michael's good work. He then answered the unspoken question that hung in the air.

"Michael is in love with Nikita," Jurgen said, a smile curving his lips.

"You're certain?" Madeline countered, as she leaned back in her chair. She didn't really doubt it, but this was important. To Section, and to Michael. She had to be sure.

Jurgen nodded. "I'm positive. He hides it well, but not well enough."

Madeline was quiet for a moment, then asked, "What about Nikita?"

"She's...hot for him," Jurgen allowed.

"Are they lovers?" Madeline prompted.

Jurgen moved to perch on the corner of her desk and locked eyes with the dark-haired woman. "Not right now," he said firmly. "But they were."

Madeline sighed, then pinched the bridge of her nose. "You don't think Nikita is in love with Michael?"

"She could be," Jurgen allowed. He smiled as he remembered Nikita's face during the photo shoot. Then the image of her dancing in his arms and drinking shots of Tequila interceded. "I think NIkita is in love with the idea of being in love. She's naive in that department. She has certain...expectations. She believes in fairytales."

"She wants Prince Charming," Madeline drawled, impressed with Jurgen's insight. He had Nikita pegged. "Michael intrigues her," Madeline continued. And she wasn't surprised. He was a dark Prince.

Jurgen was quick to agree. "Of course he does. Michael is beautiful and enigmatic. He's the strong, silent type that women love to love. But he can't give her what she needs most."

Madeline raised one eyebrow then queried, "And that would be?"

"Honesty," Jurgen replied. He stood up and paced about the room. "Michael can't be honest about his feelings for her, because he doesn't understand them himself. Given his childhood, and all that he's suffered since being recruited into Section, it's not surprising that Michael can't seperate himself from the job. That's what makes him such an effective operative."

"You've studied his file," Madeline countered, a bit surprised by Jurgen's apparent interest in the other man.

Jurgen laughed. "I've studied Michael," he shot back, his eyes flashing. He moved to the front of the desk and leaned his palms on it. "Know your enemy, Madeline," Jurgen drawled. "That's the first lesson I learned in life."

She nodded and a cold smile curved her lips. "What are you going to do now?"

"That depends," Jurgen replied. "What do want from Nikita?"

"She's a good operative," Madeline stated, her eyes searching Jurgen's, trying to read him, but his shields were impenetrable. Michael could take lessons from him. "If Nikita can be...trusted....and does not prove to be a distraction to Michael, then Section would like to keep her."

Jurgen laughed, deep in his throat. "Nikita is a definite distraction to Michael," he countered. "But that's not really a problem, is it? I mean, you could simply relocate her."

Madeline nodded. "We could," she allowed. "If neccessary." She was hoping that wouldn't be the case. Michael and Nikita made an unbeatable team in the field, she would hate to lose that. But her orders were clear. Operations wanted the *old* Michael back. The operative he had been prior to Nikita's recruitment. Operations blamed Madeline for making Michael Nikita's trainer in the first place. Even though, at the time, he had understood why she had done it. To keep Michael from becoming suicidal. But Madeline also knew that Operations blamed himself. He felt he should have obeyed his first instincts and enforced Nikita's cancellation after her two years were up. And he blamed Michael as well, for saving Nikita. "What about Michael?" Madeline put the question to Jurgen.

"I can...save him...for you," he drawled, amusement dancing in his eyes. "But I'll need to do things my own way and you'll have to be willing to back me up."

From the upper level a deep voice interjected, "Do whatever is neccessary. I want Michael back, and fully functional."

Jurgen turned to see Operations descending the stairs. He wasn't surprised to see the other man. "As you wish," Jurgen replied. Then he looked at Madeline. "Anything else?" he queried.

"One more thing," Madeline allowed. She locked eyes with Jurgen and her own were cold. "Did Michael lie to Section about Nikita's return?" Before he was cancelled, Ackerman had *confessed* to Madeline that the story Michael had told them about rescuing Nikita from the Freedom League had been a lie. That Nikita had escaped on her own, long before Section had raided the compound.

"What if he did lie?" Jurgen countered, his eyes flickering back over to Operations. The gray-haired man looked grim.

Madeline answered the question. "Then, we have a problem," she drawled. "Michael would have to be....reprogrammed."

Operations moved to confront Jurgen. "Did Michael lie to us?" he prompted.

"I don't know," Jurgen replied, assuming a solemn expression. "But I will find out for you," he assured them. "And when I do, I expect to be rewarded."

"In what way?" Madeline challenged, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

Jurgen grinned flashing, startling, white teeth. "If it turns out that Michael did lie...I want to be assigned as his new trainer. Agreed?" He turned to Operations for the answer.

The head of Section didn't hesitate. "Agreed," he conceded, then he turned and strode out of the room.

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

Michael did his best to try and concentrate on the report he was working on, but the writing on his monitor didn't seem to want to come into focus. Ever since he had revealed Ackerman to be a mole, Michael's duties had been restored to him, the only alleviation being the mission with Jurgen. But now Jurgen was busy with Nikita, and her reprogramming training. Michael sighed and switched off the computer. No sense in pretending anymore. All he could think about was Nikita, and it didn't help that she was across the hall, working out with Jurgen. When they had started, an hour ago, Michael had closed his blinds. But that didn't help. So now he stood up and left his office, refusing to look to his left as he strode down the corridor.

Nikita was aware of Michael passing by and her eyes followed him till he was out of sight. She and Jurgen were taking a water break, and the blond man was leaning against the wall, a bottle of Perrier in his hand.

"You lack focus, Nikita," Jurgen drawled, knowing exactly where her thoughts were. With Michael. All the better for him. Michael was being extremely helpful in Jurgen's quest to claim Nikita for himself. The other man was distancing himself from the beautiful blond, and Jurgen knew why. It was the only way that Michael could maintain control over himself. And if he let his control slip, he would reveal too much. If that happened, he would lose all ties to Nikita. Not that he wasn't severing them already. Michael was trapped between a rock and a hard place.

"I'm tired," Nikita replied, turning back to face Jurgen. She smiled at him, and he smiled back. How unlike Michael he was in that way. Jurgen laughed, and smiled often. He was also willing to answer her questions, and he applauded her spirit. In the three years she'd spent under Michael, he had seemed intent upon breaking her spirit.

Jurgen pushed away from the wall, dropping the water bottle to the floor to take position in front of Nikita. "The enemy won't care if you're tired," he reminded her.

She grimaced, but took an defensive stance. "Do you care if I'm tired," Nikita challenged Jurgen. Then she blocked a kick to her head.

"You might be surprised," Jurgen drawled. He swung at Nikita but she ducked and kicked back at him. He blocked, spun and swept her legs out from under her. Jurgen then took advantage of the situatioin by holding Nikita down to the mat with the length of his body. "Give up?" he asked, smiling down at her.

"Never!" she hissed. But then Nikita smiled. She grabbed Jurgen by the hair, but didn't push him away. Rather, she pulled his head down for a kiss. When he deepened it, Nikita wrapped her arms around his neck.

Jurgen let the kiss last for a long time, but then he pulled back. "What about Michael?" he asked, as her rolled to the side and sat up.

Nikita's eyes flashed. "What about him?" she countered, sitting up as well.

"You like him," Jurgen persisted. No time like the present to learn the truth. And the best way to get the truth was to offer it first. "I can see it, Nikita. It's in the way he looks at you, and you look at him."

"What's not to like?" Nikita allowed, with a casual shrug. But she was surprised that Jurgen had read them so well. She had thought they were being careful. Michael was certainly convincing, from Nikita's point of view. He was more aloof than he had ever been, especially since the mission in Mexico.

Jurgen smiled. "Michael is an interesting man," he allowed. "Very beautiful, sensual...and smart."

Nikita let her surprise show. "You speak as if you know him," she drawled.

"I do," Jurgen confessed, knowing that this particular truth would buy him brownie points. "I helped to train Michael after he made full, operative status."

"Really?" Nikita countered, with more than a bit of curiousity. "What was he like then?"

Jurgen sighed. "Different," he allowed. "Michael was somewhat like you when he started at Section. Emotional...and opinionated. Very stubborn as well."

Nikita laughed. "Michael...emotional?" she replied, disbelief written all over her face. "He's about as emotional as mud."

"Michael learned quickly how to survive Section," Jurgen whispered. "He's one of the best operatives we've ever had. At least, he was."

"Meaning what?" Nikita challenged, her eyes narrowing as she studied Jurgen. Suddenly she felt as if she had fallen into a trap.

Jurgen knew exactly what Nikita was thinking, and he countered her suspicions. "You've seen it, Nikita. Michael is....distracted these days. By you."

She didn't deny it. Rising to her feet, Nikita turned away from Jurgen. "Did you know Simone?" she asked suddenly. The question just bubbled out of her, without warning.

"I did," Jurgen confirmed, but that was all. He smiled as he rose to his feet. "You did well today, Nikita. Can I buy you dinner?"

"I'd like that," Nikita replied, not hesitating for a moment. She found herself wanting to spend more time with Jurgen. "Give me fifteen minutes to shower?" she requested.

Jurgen nodded. "Meet you by the south exit," he confirmed. Then he watched Nikita stride away and couldn't keep the smile off his face.

Walter stood watching Michael fire off repeated rounds at a target. He was using his left hand and didn't miss a shot. When Michael stopped to reject the spent clip and load another, Walter stepped forward. He cleared his throat then said, "Michael, can we talk?"

Michael didn't respond for a moment. He racked a bullet into the chamber then raised the gun to sight down the barrell. "What is it?" he asked, finally.

"I just wanted....well....I wanted.." Walter broke off, his courage failing him. What he wanted to say should have been said weeks ago. The moment Nikita returned to Section. But Walter didn't have the guts to face Michael then. Apparently he still didn't, to his shame.

"What do you want, Walter?" Michael prompted, turning to face the older man. His stance was relaxed. Hands folded in front of him, face a mask, eyes cold.

Walter sighed then faced Michael's icy gaze. "I wanted to apologize to you," he blurted out.

Michael let a smile curve his lips. "For what?" he challenged.

"For blaming you for Nikita's death," Walter replied. He felt relief wash over him and getting the words out after repressing them for so long. "I thought you let her die...but I should have known better. I did know," he corrected himself. "I'm sorry, Michael. Can you forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive," Michael whispered. "I did the job. Nikita got lucky...she survived." With that Michael turned back to the targets and began firing.

Walter shook his head then walked away. "Nice try, Michael," he muttered to himself. "But I know better, this time. You saved Nikita, and I will always be grateful to you for that. Like it...or not." As Walter left the firing area, he didn't notice the man hidden in a shadowy alcove.

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

Dinner was fun. Not like the last time someone from Section took her out. Someone being Michael. Nikita remembered as if it were yesterday, how excited she had been to be leaving Section premises, if only for one night. Only Michael had turned what should have been a special moment into a mission. At the time Nikita hadn't realized that she would have been cancelled had she not proven herself. A part of her still resented Michael. Not so much for what he had done as the fact that it was the first of his lies. The first betrayal.

Tonight was a celebration. Jurgen was a charming companion and he never once lied to her. He told Nikita bits and pieces about himself and was honest to her when she asked questions he couldn't answer. After dinner they went dancing. After that, they went to Nikita's place.

She turned some music on and opened a bottle of wine. When a slow song played, Jurgen asked her to dance. Nikita smiled at him but shook her head. Too strong a sense of De Ja Vu. She knew that Jurgen wanted to seduce her, and she wanted to let him. But not with a dance. Not the way Michael had. So she grabbed the bottle of wine, took Jurgen by the hand, then led him up to her bedroom.

Michael was working in his office when he got the call from Madeline. He shut down the computer then headed for her office. She was waiting for him, a smile on her face that sent off warning signals.

"Sit down, Michael," Madeline invited, gesturing to a chair. She was seated on the sofa, looking relaxed. There were mugs of steaming coffee and a plate of fudge.

"Thank you," Michael replied, being perfectly polite. He accepted the coffee and could guess that the fudge was his favorite. Cappucino swirled with chocolate. But that he declined. "Is something wrong?" he asked, locking eyes with Madeline.

She shook her head. "Not...specifically," Madeline allowed. "I wanted a chance to talk to you, Michael," she explained. "I've always given you some leeway when it comes to counseling because you have such...control...over your emotions. You don't let them interfere with the job. But that doesn't mean you don't feel them, and that you don't need to sort them out."

Michael took a sip of the rich coffee before responding. "Your point being?"

"After Nikita...died...in the explosion, you changed," Madeline said softly. She leaned forward to pick up her own mug and took a sip. "I don't doubt for one minute that you believed she was dead. You were out of synch for those six months, Michael. It was becoming a problem." Madeline offered a warm smile, her eyes locked with Michael's so that she wouldn't miss a single reaction. "That's why we relieved you of team leader status. You were making decisions that could have gotten you...and other operatives....killed."

"I realize that now," Michael allowed. "I was wrong."

Madeline sighed. "Hind sight is 20/20, Michael. I don't want that to happen again. Section doesn't want to lose you."

Michael almost smiled at that. "No such luck," he whispered, and his words held a double meaning. He knew that Section would never let him go, and he would never leave...not with Nikita here. Madeline knew that as well as he did.

"How do you feel about Nikita being back, and under Jurgen's...control?" Madeline questioned.

"Reprogramming is standard proceedure," Michael replied.

Madeline nodded, then smiled. "Yes...but that's not what I asked."

Michael was silent for a moment. He knew what Madeline was doing, and she knew he was aware of it. So this was another test, to see just how out of synch he really was. To see if he would betray Nikita...or himself. But that wasn't going to happen. "I think that you did the right thing," Michael said softly. He even allowed a smile to curve his lips as he spoke.

"It won't be easy," Madeline warned. "Not for any of you." She knew of Michael's past with Jurgen, could guess at what he might be feeling. There was a definite history between the two men. Both of them alpha males. Neither one willing to admit defeat. Madeline didn't want to see a showdown between them, because one of them would lose. And Madeline was afraid that in the end it might be Michael. He would sacrifice himself to save Nikita, of that she was certain.

"Is that all?" Michael asked, setting down the mug and rising to his feet.

Madeline nodded. She was impressed and irritated. This little talk had revealed nothing specific, yet had been informative in it's own way. By being so carefully detached, Michael had as good as stated that he was being cautious..and protective. And he would do so only for Nikita. "We'll talk again later. I want to schedule you for weekly sessions."

That surprised Michael. "Why?" he countered, letting a flash of irritation glimmer in his eyes.

"I think it's in your best interest," Madeline allowed.

"Of course," Michael replied, as he blinked then turned away.

Madeline watched him stride off, sensing that she had finally hit a nerve. Smiling, she reached for a piece of fudge and bit into it. With a sigh of contentment, Madeline let her head fall onto the back of the sofa and closed her eyes. It was the little pleasures that made life in Section One bearable. That was the first lesson that Madeline had learned.

Dawn was just begin to shade the sky when Nikita crept out of bed. She pulled on a long t-shirt then went to sit on the balcony, letting the night wind dry her tears. She didn't know why she wept. She had wanted to make love to Jurgen, and he was good at it. But Nikita had never felt more empty. The image of Michael flashed in her head. She remembered the way he had kissed her when they'd first laid eyes on each other after six months. There had been hunger and sweetness in his kiss. Passion as well.

A smile curved Nikita's lips as she remembered how he had undressed her. His hands gliding over her bare skin, then tracing the caress with his lips. He had whispered she was beautiful. Nikita had whispered the same when it was her turn to undress Michael. His body was perfection and she had studied him in awe. Then her hands had traced the patterns of his muscles before her lips had worshipped him. Then Michael had gathered her into his arms, crushing her to him as if he would never let go. Nikita had once dreamed of such passion, but Michael had made it a reality. They had made love until dawn. At first they had been desperate...filled with need and hunger. But then they were able to control their passion and Michael had shown her the sensual pleasures of his seductive nature. He had touched her with fire, but now he branded her with ice. Nikita blinked back tears along with the memories. She couldn't cling to the past and there seemed little hope for the future. Not with Michael. And maybe that was why she felt so empty.

Michael looked up from his computer as Nikita entered his office. He was surprised to see her and looked behind her, expect Jurgen in her wake. "What is it?" he asked, when she glared at him.

"We need to talk!" Nikita hissed.

"What about?" Michael countered as he pushed his chair back from the desk, but remained seated.

Nikita shook her head. "Not here. Meet me somewhere...later."

Michael swallowed hard then said, "I don't think so."

"Why not?" Nikita challenged, her eyes flashing crystal-blue sparks. Damn him for being so detached. Didn't he understand what was at stake here?

"You know why," Michael whispered. He switched off his computer then stood up. "We have a briefing in five minutes."

Nikita bit her lip to stop it from trembling as she watched Michael step around her and leave the room. "Fine..." she hissed. "Your rules, Michael. But it's my game." With that Nikita stomped out, slamming the door closed behind her.

After the briefing, which had included Operations, Madeline, Nikita and Birkhoff, everyone scattered except Michael and Jurgen. Jurgen had requested that Michael stay behind. As senior Op and Nikita's trainer, he was running the team again for this mission, but he had a mini-mission planned on the side and he needed Michael's help.

The main mission was simple enough. An black market auction was being held in a Singapore. Section would go in, with Michael on point, and confiscate the trigger for a nuclear device that was up for sale. The side mission would involve Nikita, only she wouldn't be informed. Six operatives would be at the auction. Michael spoke the language, so he would bid on the trigger. Section didn't care about the legailities of the auction, they just wanted the device. Meanwhile, it was Jurgen's intention that Nikita work another angle. He had intel about one of the buyers. An Asian druglord with ties to the Mob. His name was Shou and he liked blond, american, women.

Michael understood the mission and that what Shou possessed would be of interest to Section. If, in fact, the man did have the little black book of names. But he didn't like the fact that Nikita would be blind to the mission. A simple pawn. The bait by which to lure Shou. Nikita would have no way of knowing what might happen. No real way of defending herself. And Michael knew Shou's history. The man had no compassion. He would kill Nikita without a thought. Or possibly kidnap her and take her back to his country as a slave. None of those options were acceptable to Michael. "We can shake down Shou another time," he stated firmly.

"We could," Jurgen allowed. "But we're going to do it now. I have Operations' blessing."

"Nikita is at risk," Michael whispered, his eyes glazing over with ice as he moved to confront Jurgen. "You don't have enough back up to cover her. Take more men."

Jurgen shook his head. "We go as structured." Letting a smile curve his lips, Jurgen locked eyes with Michael, not giving an inch. "If you don't like the plan, I can replace you. Your call. We leave in one hour."

Michael felt rage slow burn in his gut but he held it in check. He knew what Jurgen was doing and he was playing into it. That would be a mistake. Slamming his mask firmly into place, Michael smiled at the other man. "I'll be there," he said softly, then he exited the room.

"You're making this too easy, Michael..." Jurgen drawled once he once alone. Then he laughed and headed out to find Nikita.

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

After the private briefing with Jurgen, it was Michael's intention to seek out Nikita and explain to her what to expect in regards to Shou. But he wasn't given that oppurtunity. In the hour before the transport was to leave for Singapore, Michael was needed by Birkhoff for a mission in progress, then he was called into Madeline's office for a quick session. She knew about Jurgen's plans for Nikita and said as much.

Michael locked eyes with Madeline, knowing that she was watching his every reaction, so he gave none. "Nikita will get the job done," he said softly. That was all.

"She might not make it back," Madeline countered, her eyes narrowing even as a cold smile curved her lips. "Are you okay with that, Michael?"

"Does it matter?" he replied, not giving an inch of ground. Michael was good at being tested. Had passed them all in the past, and would do so now..as well as in the future. For Nikita's sake. He glanced at his watch. "I have fifteen minutes and there are some things I need to take care of." It was his way of requesting permission to leave.

Madeline nodded. "Go. But we will talk ago when you return."

Michael smiled at her before turning towards the door. "I look forward to it," he whispered, then he was gone.

"Very clever, Michael," Madeline drawled, once the doors were closed behind him. "Maybe too clever, for your own good."

While on the plane and, later, in the van, Michael tried to find a moment to speak to Nikita. But she made it a point to keep her distance, even as Jurgen made it a point to give Michael preoccupied, running over the mission parameters. They reached the auction site and the team moved out, Jurgen remaining in the van with Birkhoff.

Michael felt anger slowburn deep inside him as he moved through the crowd of would be buyers, searching for his mark. Not the people who were selling the trigger, but Shou. Michael would complete primary mission, as expected of him, but he would also keep watch over Nikita. That was his main objective. He would not let her be hung out to dry. Section had left her without backup once before, Michael would not allow that to happen again.

The auction was already underway as Michael moved towards the front of the crowd. They were a diverse mix of mercenaries, noveau rich, and politicians. Michael recognized many of them, but was not recognized in return. He scanned the crowd and spotted Shou. He also locked onto Nikita. She was to Shou's left and Michael knew it would only be a matter of time before the Drug lord noticed the beautiful blond.

"Report, Michael.." Junger ordered over the com unit. Michael was wearing sunglasses with a recording device, so Jurgen and Birkhoff could see what he was seeing, as well as having audio access due to the com link. Jurgen just wanted to make certain he had Michael's full attention.

"Nothing yet," Michael replied, careful not to let his gaze stay on either Nikita or Shou. "Mark," Michael whispered, his cue for the other six operatives to report their locations.

"On one."

"On two in one."

"Three...mark."

"On four."

"Five...mark."

"Six..on mark," said Nikita, afte a moment of silence. She had noticed a swarthy-skinned man staring at her and it was beginning to annoy her, so she had almost missed reporting in.

Michael had spotted Shou watching Nikita at the same time and his anger heated up, but he controlled it. The trigger was almost up. "Hold mark," Michael ordered. Then he reported in to Jurgen. "We're in place."

Jurgen was pleased. He could hear the slight inflection in Michael's tone, a betrayal of emotions held tightly in check. "Good," he replied. "Let's get what we came for."

"Consider it done," Michael whispered, knowing that Jurgen's remark held a double meaning. Just then he heard the auctioneer announce that the trigger was now up for bidding. He refocused his concentration and ordered, "Take down on my signal." It meant that any bidder that upped the price too high. or seemed to eager, was to be taken out by the operatives who were dispersed about the crowd. All of them had tranguilizer dispensers that fit into the palm of their hands. One hit and a person was out for the count. Painlessly and quietly. No fuss, no muss.

Michael allowed others to start the bidding, but soon jumped in. He signalled for two bidders to be taken out and it was done. While he bid, he kept track of Shou. The drug dealer made one bid, then fell silent. Michael soon discovered why. Shou considered Nikita of more interest than the trigger. Michael could hear his conversation with the blond.

Jurgen heard it as well and was pleased. He gave her a direct order. "Keep him distracted, Nikita."

"I hate this job," Nikita hissed, even as she obeyed. Putting a smile on her face, she looped her arm through Shou's and let him lead her off. They were followed by two, heavily armed, body guards.

"Damn..." Michael muttered, too softly for anyone to hear. He took off the sunglasses and tucked them into his jacket pocket so that he could track Shou and Nikita, even as he continued making bids.

"Take down all," Michael ordered to his team. He listened, and watched, as operatives one through five, dispensed with his competition. It happened quickly and efficiently, and there were enough people present to create a cover. Soon Michael had the winning bid and he moved forward, along with one of the operatives, to pay the fee and collect the trigger. "We've got it," he announced to Jurgen.

Birkhoff responded. "Michael, we've lost video."

Michael didn't hesitate. "Must be a glitch."

"All ops in," Jurgen ordered, knowing the game Michael was playing. "We move out in five."

"Go in," Michael repeated the order so that his team would move out. Then he tapped off his com link. He was going after Nikita.

She was not doing well. Shou hadn't wasted anytime in the act of seduction. He simply shoved Nikita into an empty room and started ripping at her clothes. When she tried to resist, one of Shou's body guards slapped her hard enough to make her black out. When Nikita came too, she was on the ground and her clothing was ripped, baring her to Shou's lascivious gaze. He was out of his pants and kneeling before her when Nikita kicked out at his crotch. She missed her target but pissed him off.

Michael heard harsh laughter and soft moans as he moved down the shadowy corridor. Gun in hand, he pressed his back to the wall then tapped on the door with his knuckles. A moment later one of the body guards stepped out of the room. Michael broke his neck. He was going to wait for the other one to appear, but a cry of pain rent the air and ripped through his heart. It was Nikita. Michael shifted into *machine mode* then entered the room. He sent a bullet into the other guard's heart, then pressed the gun to Shou's temple. "You're a dead man," Michael whispered.

Shou was also a coward. "Don't kill me..." he begged, scrambling back on his knees, uncaring that he was exposed and ready to wet himself. "I'll give you anything you want.." Shou beseeched.

"Good," Michael replied, then he smiled.

Birkhoff looked at Jurgen who was leaing against the wall, arms folded over his chest. Five minutes had come and gone and still they waited. Michael and Nikita were out of contact, and Birkhoff feared they were dead. Worst part being that he didn't understand what was happening. He was about to question Jurgen when the door to the van open and Michael appeared, Nikita cradled in his arms. Birkhoff shivered. It was too much like De javu.

Jurgen smiled then ordered, "Go." He said nothing else as he watched Michael sit down, shifting Nikita so that she was more comfortable. She had been badly beaten, but Jurgen suspected that she would live. He was pleased, for now the real fun was about to begin.

Michael was in the exercise area across from his office. He had sat with Nikita for a time, before Madeline had kicked him out of Med Lab with orders to go home and rest. Michael had ignored the request and had holed up in his office for a time. He had reports to write, but couldn't concentrate. So he shed his jacket and was now working up a sweat, punching the heavy bag.

Jurgen entered the room with a smile on his face. He leaned against the wall and watched, seeing the rage and pain that were the driving force behind each of Michael's punches. Jurgen knew the other man well. Better than he knew himself. "You disobeyed direct orders, Michael," he drawled, when the younger man froze and turned to face him.

"So did you," Michael countered. "You waited for us."

"Why did you go back for her?" Jurgen challenged.

Michael reached for a towel and wiped the sweat off his face. He let a smile curve his lips as he moved to stand before Jurgen. "You wanted Shou's book, I got it for you. And the trigger. I did the job."

Jurgen nodded. "You sure did. Why did you kill Shou?"

"Seemed like the thing to do at the time," Michael replied, as he drew his mask firmly into place. He knew that Jurgen had come here with a purpose, and that he was no doubt linked to Nikita. So Michael prepared himself for the worst.

"I'm glad you got to Nikita before Shou raped her," Jurgen drawled, his eyes locked on Michael's face, searching for even a glimmer of reaction. There was none. Michael was very good at this. "She very passionate and enjoys sex. I'd hate to see her... enthusiasm...tarnished."

Michael felt himself stiffen at Jurgen's words. And what they implied. But he knew he was heading into dark waters so he turned away. "I have work to do."

Jurgen cut him off at the door. "Did she dig her fingernails into your back, Michael?" he queried, a smirk curving his lips as he saw a flash of anger in the other man's eyes. He had just scored a direct hit. "I've still got the marks..." Jurgen drawled.

"Excuse me..." Michael hissed, between gritted teeth. Pain lanced through him like a knife for he knew that Jurgen wasn't feeding him a line. He had made love to Nikita and Michael felt his entire world begin to crumble. His reunion with Nikita had meant nothing to her. She had simply been caught up in the moment. Michael couldn't blame her. His heart screamed betrayal..but what right did he have to feel cheated? He had never given Nikita a reason to trust him, and without trust there could be no love.

"Michael..." Jurgen whispered his name, wanting to refocus the other man's attention back to him. "You didn't answer my question. About the scratch marks." Jurgen was pouring salt into an open wound, and he knew it.

He should just walk away. A voice in Michael's head screamed at him to do just that. He even turned away. But a moment later his tenuous hold on his control snapped. Michael took a deep breath, whirled around and slammed his fist into Jurgen's nose. He watched the other man's head snap back as blood spurted, and a smile crossed his lips.

Jurgen was furious as he grabbed his broken nose. His eyes blazed as he moved to confront Michael. "You don't want to do this," he warned.

"I've never wanted anything more," Michael drawled as calm detachment settled over him. He knew that Jurgen matched his skills, and that he might die. But Michael didn't care about that. For once he would listen to his heart. And his heart cried out...Nikita.

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

Jurgen threw the next punch and found himself blocked. He blocked Michael's kick and kicked back, scoring a hit on Michael's thigh. The other man didn't even flinch. Jurgen swiped at his nose with his shirt sleeve then struck out once more.

Michael fought without conscious thought. He deflected Jurgen's hits by instinct, maintaining a defensive posture. But it didn't last. The moment Jurgen nailed him on the jaw and he stumbled back, the rage inside of Michael exploded. He locked his balance, blinked, and faced Jurgen with eyes blazing. Then he attacked.

Only Jurgen's expertise kept him alive...barely. He blocked Michael's deadly blows, but felt every hit just the same. Jurgen knew he couldn't keep it up. Michael was relentless and even though Jurgen got in a hit or kick on occassion, it didn't even slow the other man down. Michael's sole focus was to kill. Jurgen's only focus now was to survive. If he could reach his jacket, which he had dropped by the door, he could get his gun.

But Michael was done playing. He wanted this to be over. He spun around and delivered a kick to Jurgen's jaw, then smirked when the man dropped like a stone. Michael prodded him with the toe of his boot, checking for signs that Jurgen was playing possum. Even as Michael knelt by his head, he was ready for an assault. But none came. So Michael lifted Jurgen up, hands wrapped around the other man's head, ready to snap his neck, but a voice stopped him.

"No...Michael!" Walter stood in the doorway, his eyes big as saucers as he watched the young man prepare to kill in cold blood. He stared into silver-green eyes that were dark and empty, and a chill rippled through him. "Don't.." Walter beseeched him.

It wasn't Walter's request that stopped Michael. It was the sudden image of Nikita. Michael saw her as she had been while they had made love. Gloriously beautiful. She had lain on the bed naked and radiant, flushed with passion and her eyes warm. In that moment, she had loved him. So Michael released Jurgen, rose to his feet then passed by Walter. He crossed the corridor into his office and closed the door.

Walter heaved a sigh of relief as he turned to see that Michael was now sitting behind his desk, typing at his computer. As if nothing had happened. Reaching for the phone on the wall, Walter called for a Med team, then he turned and walked away. He wouldn't lift a finger to help Jurgen but, for Michael's sake, Walter hoped that the other man lived.

Michael had been expecting the call, so he entered Madeline's office fully expecting to be punished. Cancellation was in order, so Michael was prepared for his life to end within the next five minutes. His idle thought was that he wondered if Nikita would even care.

Madeline was seated behind her desk, Operations standing beside her. She studied Michael for a long moment, seeing that his mask was firmly in place, yet his eyes were completely empty. He felt nothing. "Jurgen is alive," she said softly. She waited, but Michael said nothing. He offered no defense for his action, and Madeline knew he would never explain. Not that he needed too. They knew why. Nikita. It was always about Nikita. Madeline thought it was interesting how the beautiful blond believed that Michael was the one in control of her. She couldn't have been more wrong. Nikita was the one in control. The only one who could push Michael's buttons. Not even Simone had possessed that power.

When the silence in the room became defeaning, Operations came around the desk to confront Michael. No more games. He locked eyes with the younger man, and his own glimmered like ice. "All those months ago when I sent you on that suicide mission with orders for Nikita to be cancelled...you let her go." It was more a statement than a question, but Operations expected a response.

"Yes," Michael whispered. No point in lying about it anymore. He had no doubt now that the lie had been revealed. And he knew by who. Jurgen. And he would have learned the truth from Nikita. Even if she hadn't said the words, she would have betrayed him by action. Not her fault. Michael took full responsibility. The blame was his.

"Why?" Operations hissed. He was more angry than he should have been, but this betrayal was personal. It wasn't just about Section One anymore.

Michael took a small breath then replied, "She didn't belong here."

Madeline almost smiled, a part of her wondering how she could have been so blind to the truth. But Michael had played the game so well. Eyes going cold now she said, "That was not your decision to make, Michael."

"I made it," he declared firmly, and without a hint of remorse.

"I've made a decision as well," Operations drawled, taking a step forward so that he and Michael were eye to eye. "You'll be sent to level three, beta section, for reprogramming. Today."

Michael didn't even blink. He didn't care. Not about himself. "What about Nikita?" he questioned.

Madeline rose from her desk. She wondered if Michael realized how much he had just revealed to her. But her eyes were dark as she replied, "That no longer concerns you." Even as she spoke, the office doors opened and two operatives entered. "They'll escort you to level three, Michael," Madeline explained.

"Of course," Michael replied. He stepped back then headed for the door, the other operatives nearly running to catch up to him.

The moment they were gone, Operations turned to Madeline. "What happens now?"

She sighed and sat back down again, feeling weary to the bone. "I don't know," Madeline confessed. 'If Michael survives reprogramming...I think you'll have what you've been hoping for. The perfect operative. But it won't come without a cost."

"Meaning what?" Operations prompted, as he massaged the back of his neck to ease the tension knotted there.

"Michael is a man of great passion," Madeline replied. "What set him apart from the others was his ability to control that passion and channel it into serving Section purposes. In the past, no matter what he's suffered, Michael would always bend....never break. But if we break him now, we'll lose that passion."

Operations shook his head. "And that should matter to me...why? If he becomes the perfect operative...I don't give a damn if he breaks."

Madeline smiled. "I'll remind you that you said that....in three months," she whispered. Then she watched as Operations glared at her, before striding out of the room. Madeline knew that he did care about what happened to Michael. They both did, far more than was wise. But she pushed those thoughts aside and reached for a data file. Life in Section would continue on, and that was how it would always be.

Michael felt heat on his skin. It wasn't sunlight, he knew that for certain. His eyes felt heavy but he forced them open, and was nearly blinded by the brightness of whitewashed walls. He knew where he was, and he didn't need to move to know that he was in restraints. His mind flashed to the moment when Nikita had first seen him, in a room such as this. But she had been the one in restraints, and he had been sitting in a chair, watching her. Shifting his head to the right, Michael saw a man in a chair, watching him.

Jurgen smiled as he watched Michael return to consciousness. It had been five days since the fight. He had spent twenty-four hours in Medlab, and upon regaining consciousness had told Madeline what she had wanted to know. That Michael had lied to them about Nikita's return. It was his revenge. But only the beginning. Now Michael would undergo reprogramming with Jurgen as his trainer. Rising from the chair, Jurgen moved to Michael's side. He let his hands glide over Michael's bare arm and down to the restraint, binding the strong wrist. A smile curved Jurgen's thin lips. "I won't make it easy on you, Michael," he drawled. "Not this time."

Michael didn't answer. He watched Jurgen pick up a syringe and felt the prick of the needle in his vein. Then he closed his eyes as white-heat flooded his body. Michael gritted his teeth against the pain, but didn't cry out. Then there was darkness, and he sank into it gratefully.

Nikita paced within the confines of her room. She had been kept there since her release from Medlab after the Shou incident. She hadn't seen Jurgen or Michael, but she knew that Michael had saved her. She remembered that much. Now the door to her room opened and Nikita stopped pacing to face Madeline. "What's going on?" she demanded.

Madeline stood in the doorway, hands clasped in front of her, a cold smile curving her lips. "We know the truth, Nikita," she said softly. "Michael lied to us."

"Really?" Nikita drawled, trying not to tremble as fear washed over her. She would reveal nothing. No doubt this was another test. "Lied about what?" she challenged, then she laughed. "Michael lies all the time."

"He's in level 3, being reprogrammed," Madeline replied, her eyes locked on Nikita's face. She had seen the flicker of fear in the crystal-blue eyes. Now she saw surprise, then concern. But Nikita was learning, she pulled down a mask and clamped it into place. "I'm putting you back on active status. You'll be briefed on the new mission in ten minutes, and transport leaves in one hour. Be ready."

Nikita moved forward as Madeline turned to leave. "Can I see Michael?" she requested, already knowing the answer.

Madeline simply looked at Nikita, then she walked out, closing the door behind her. And the echo of the silence she left behind became defeaning.

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

Jurgen paced around the test module as he watched Michael run the sim. The younger man's breathing was becoming labored. Jurgen pressed a button on the remote he was holding and virtual enemies appeared in the chamber. He watched Michael fire at them with speed and precision. He hadn't lost his accuracy...yet. More running then another attack. This time Michael faltered and took three hits in a row. The last one brought him down. Jurgen stopped the sim.

Michael gritted his teeth against the pain that rippled through him as he forced himself to rise. His heart pounded in his chest and he made himself breath shallowly to calm his racing pulse. He felt Jurgen watching him, but that was becoming familiar. The man was always watching. "Again?" Michael questioned.

"No," Jurgen replied. He smiled as he tossed Michael a towel. "Your times are excellent, Michael," Jurgen drawled, as he continued to pace. That didn't really surprise him. Michael had always been the fastest and the most accurate. And his numbers stayed high in spite of debilting levels of pain and sleep deprivation. All tricks of the trade that Jurgen didn't hesitate to use.

"What does this prove?" Michael countered, as he stepped out of the module and opened a bottle of water. He took one sip then poured the rest over his face, letting it run down his chest to cool him.

Jurgen shrugged. "Perhaps nothing..." he allowed. They both knew that it wasn't Michael's physical prowess that was in question. But pushing the body past the breaking point was effective in breaking down the whole. Jurgen wanted inside Michael's head. All the others he had trained had proven easy to bend, and break and mold. Even Nikita. She was frighteningly predictable. Her passions ran deep, her emotions high. Weaknesses that she somehow always managed to turn into strengths. Her greatest weakness of all, however, was Michael. And that's what Jurgen would use to control her in the end. Michael, on the other hand, was a true enigma. He had passion but he had control as well. Nikita was the only weakness that Jurgen had ever detected in the other man. But Michael knew it, about himself and Jurgen, so he would not be easily manipulated.

Michael took one more swallow of water then turned to face Jurgen. "What now?"he asked. It had been ten days since he had awakened in hell and Michael knew Jurgen was just warming up.

Moving to a side table, Jurgen reached for a chess piece. "Let's play," he said, gesturing Michael to a chair. "You're white."

"Symbolism?" Michael queried, as he sat down. He ran the towel over his face and hair, then tossed it aside. Then he looked down at the board and blinked. He hated chess.

"You tell me," Jurgen countered, as he sat down as well. "You first," he prompted.

Michael moved the pawn furtherest to the left. "You want Nikita," he whispered, and was rewarded by seeing a flicker of surprise in Jurgen's eyes.

Jurgen laughed as he moved a center pawn forward. "Very good, Michael," he drawled. "Excellent strategy. Put your opponent on the defense so you can play offense. You play the game well."

"Why play games at all?" Michael countered. "Let's get right to the point."

"The point....being Nikita," Jurgen replied. He rested his elbows on the edge of the table then steepled his fingers as he locked eyes with the other man. "She still belongs to me, you know."

Michael let a smile curve his lips. "Nikita belongs to no one," he whispered. And that was a painful truth. Michael didn't want to possess her, he wanted only to protect her. But he had failed. All he ever given Nikita was pain. Pain that was reflected in his soul.

Dropping his eyes to watch as Michael moved another pawn, Jurgen nodded. "You're right. She's a free spirit. You envy that, don't you? Freedom has always been your passion, Michael. And it's the one thing you will never have. Section will never let you go."

"Operatives have a short shelf life," Michael responded.

"You're expiration date seems to be open," Jurgen countered with a smile. "Eleven years, Michael. And still going strong."

Michael made another move then looked up. "You can change that," he said softly.

Jurgen quirked an eyebrow, letting his surprise show. It was hard to tell what Michael meant, he revealed nothing by action or expression. A true challenge, indeed. Madeline could not read him, but Jurgen was determined to shatter all of Michael's shields and see beyond the mask. "What is it you're saying, Michael? That you want to die?"

"Not really," Michael drawled, then he shrugged. "I think it would please you."

"You're wrong," Jurgen shot back, making a move then leaning back in his chair, a smile crossing his face. "I want you to live, Michael. Very much so."

Michael stared at the chess board but he didn't see the game. What he saw was Nikita. He wanted to remember how she had looked while lying in his arms, smiling at him. But all he saw was Nikita wallking away from him and into the arms of another man. Jurgen. One hand shot out and Michael swept the pieces off the board. Then he stood up and whispered, "Game's over."

Jurgen was up like a shot, moving around the table to grab Michael by the arm. "It's over when I say so!" he hissed. Without warning, Jurgen backhanded Michael across the face. The crack of flesh against flesh echoed in the room. Jurgen watched Michael closely, but the other man only blinked. So Jurgen hit him again. Harder. Then he waited. Nothing. He drew back for another strike but found himself blocked.

"Three strikes...and you're out!" Michael hissed. He locked eyse with Jurgen for a moment, then stepped back, dropping his arm. He was prepared to walk away, but in that moment Jurgen whistled and all hell broke loose.

Four operatives appeared out of nowhere and attacked Michael. His instincts kicked in and he fought back, prepared to kill. He was unaware of Jurgen fading back. Michael's only thought was to take down the enemy. And Section was the enemy.

Jurgen watched Michael and admired his skill. Two operatives were disabled, their legs broken, a third went down cradling broken ribs. But Jurgen had expected as much. He called in a fifth operative. This one had a tranq gun and he aimed at Michael's back. A moment later Michael fell. A smile curving his lips, Jurgen gestured for the other operatives to take care of the wounded, then he moved to kneel beside Michael. Jurgen watched the other man fight to stay conscious, but it was a losing battle. "You just don't get it, do you, Michael?" Jurgen drawled.

"What...?" Michael managed to for out the word. He felt darkness closing over him, but resisted.

"I am your master," Jurgen whispered, even as he reached in his shirt pocket for a syringe. He was pleased when Michael attempted to struggle, but easily grasped, and held, the strong arm. He then slid the needle into Michael's vein. "You will learn to need me, Michael," Jurgen said softly, even as he reached out to smooth a cinnamon curl off the other man's forhead. His touch was as gentle as his voice. "I will be your best friend, and your worst enemy. I will be the center of your universe."

Michael shook his head, wanting to protest but no words would come. There was only darkness, but with the darkness came pain, white-hot and blinding. Michael didn't resist it for pain was his only friend, and darkness was his salvation.

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

Nikita returned to Section after two weeks. She had been sent on back to back missions. She was exhausted and wanted to crawl into a hot shower, then bed. But her first thought was to find Michael. They needed to talk. She went to Birkhoff and asked where Michael was, but it was Walter, having overheard the question, who answered her.

"He's where you put him. Level 3!" Walter hissed, his eyes flashing sparks at Nikita. Then he turned on his heel and stalked off.

"Walter..wait!" Nikita shouted, running after him. She caught up and grabbed his arm, but flinched when he pulled away from her. "What's going on?" Nikita demanded. "What is Michael doing in Level 3?"

Walter glared at Nikita. He was angry with her, and at her, and he let it show. "He's reprogramming...what else? That's what happens in Level 3."

Nikita gritted her teeth, trying not to let Walter's attitude get to her. She needed answers. "What happened, Walter? Please...tell me."

"Section knows that Michael lied to them about you, and your six months of freedom," Walter replied. But he didn't stop there. "He tried to kill Jurgen." At Nikita's stunned expression, Walter went into detail about the fight, and about how he stopped it. He let Nikita know that it was the fight that sparked Michael's downfall, henceforth, Walter blamed Nikita.

"Why would Michael want to kill Jurgen?" Nikita protested. She knew that Michael had been out of control since her escape and, consequent, return to Section. But she couldn't image what would push him over.

Walter locked eyes with Nikita and hissed, "My guess would be because you slept with him!"

Nikita caught her breath. "How do you know that?" she challenged.

"Doesn't matter how I know," Walter drawled. He moved to turn away but Nikita cut him off.

"Do Operations and Madeline know?" she questioned.

Walter shook his head, eyes reflecting disgust. "When are you gonna learn, Nikita? They know everything," he drawled.

Nikita closed her eyes for a minute, letting this sudden overload of information settle in her mind. Then she looked at Walter, holding his gaze in spite of what she saw there. "You're disappointed in me," she said softly. "Why?"

"Why..." Walter repeated. He sighed then he told her the truth. Nikita was big on the truth. "When you first came to Section, you gave Michael a reason to live. Then you gave him a reason to believe. Not in you..per se...but in himself. In his ability to feel again. He trusted you, Nikita. Do you understand what Michael has done for you? And the price he's willing to pay?" Walter asked this because he had only recently come to understand it himself.

"Yes..." Nikita whispered, still holding the intensity of Walter's gaze. "I do understand," she said firmly. And she believed that to be true. She had done alot of growing up in the past year.

Walter was the one who looked away. "I don't believe you," he declared. "And why Jurgen? Of all people." He let her hear his disgust.

Nikita held her ground. "I had my reason, Walter." That was all he needed to know.

"I'm sure you did," he replied, turning to go. But Nikita stopped him again.

"Will you ever forgive me?" she beseeched. It was important to Nikita that Walter did so. He had been her first real *friend* in Section and she held the utmost respect for him. His opinion mattered to her.

Walter nodded. "I already have," he allowed. "But I don't know if I'll ever forget." With that, he walked away.

As she watched him go Nikita whispered, "I know I won't." Then she turned and headed down the corridor.

Madeline had been expecting Nikita's visit. It was the other woman's first time in the new office and Madeline gestured her to a chair. "What can I do for you?" she queried, as she moved to sit on the corner of her desk.

Nikita remained standing. "I want to see Michael," she said bluntly.

"That's not my decision to make," Madeline replied, a smile curving her lips, but not reaching her dark eyes.

"Who's then?" Nikita demanded. She didn't want to play games. Not now. Not about Michael. No more games.

Madeline folded her hands in her lap then locked eyes with Nikita. "Michael belongs to Jurgen now," she said slowly, her words deliberate with meaning.

That was all Nikita needed to hear. She turned towards the door, then paused. "One question."

"Ask," Madeline allowed.

"Why aren't I being punished?" Nikita challenged. "Why just Michael?"

Madeline's smile faded. "What makes you think you aren't being punished?" she drawled, then she moved to sit behind her desk, effectively ending the discussion.

Nikita felt her heart skip a beat then she glided out of the room. Once in the corridor, she leaned against the wall to catch her breath. Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them back. This was not the time for weakness. Now, more than ever, Nikita had to be strong. Not for herself, but for Michael.

Jurgen found her sitting in Michael's office. He propped one shoulder against the door frame and waited.

Nikita sensed his presence, but a long moment passed before she whispered, "I want to see Michael."

"Of course you do," Jurgen drawled, then he smiled. "Come with me," he invited, then he moved off.

They went to a Section of Level 3 that was unfamiliar to Nikita. It was deep in the heart of the complex and she felt isolated just walking down the corridor. Jurgen didn't speak as they walked and Nikita was grateful. She was trying to focus on her reunion with Michael. It had been a long time coming and she knew there was much that she had to explain. To him, and to herself.

Jurgen led Nikita to a door that was keycoded. He used an electronic key to open it, then he gestured for Nikita to proceed him. Jurgen watched her expression when she saw Michael, and he was pleased by her reaction.

"Michael.." Nikita gasped, running over to the bed in the center of the room. Michael was dressed in Medwhites, a tank top and pajama bottoms with a light blanket over him. But what shocked her were the restraints on his wrists, and the fact that his face was pale and his eyes were closed. Turning to glare at Jurgen, Nikita demanded, "What have you done to him?"

"Michael is in control of his own fate," Jurgen replied, moving to stand on the other side of the bed. He touched one of the restraints as if caressing it. "He's done this to himself."

Nikita watched Jurgen's hand move to Michael's face, the strong fingers, smoothing back a lock of cinnamon hair and she longed to slap his hand away, but did nothing. She would not lose control. So she waited.

Jurgen looked at Nikita and smiled. He knew what she was feeling. "Michael is weak," he whispered.