ATTENTION: Stories marked with an * may contain material which would be better appreciated by those over 18. Parental Discretion is advised. This is your responsibility, not ours. Birkoff felt himself grow pale as he approached Michael's office. His legs felt like lead and with every step he was tempted to turn and run. Yet something inside him made Birkoff take the next step. He had to know the truth. "Michael?" Birkoff winced as he realized he had croaked the name. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Michael!" Too loud this time, but he got the other man's attention. Michael looked up from his monitor screen, eyes unblinking as they focused on Birkoff standing in his doorway. "Yes?" Michael queried. He sensed that this was not about Section business and he had little patience for anything else at the moment. Still, a part of him felt compelled to respond to Birkoff's obvious need to speak. Birkoff cleared his throat again before attempting to speak. "Can I ask you something?" Birkoff inquired. "Something... personal?" "Come in," Michael invited, his hand reaching to tap a number sequence into the panel of his desk. He felt that Birkoff deserved the privacy. In some ways Michael thought of Birkoff as a kid brother. From the moment the young man had arrived at Section, Michael had done what he could to protect him. Sometimes that meant allowing Birhoff to make mistakes and learn from them. "You're busy," Birkoff commented, gesturing to the computer. Of course, Michael was always busy. Operations and Madeline made sure of that. He stated the obvious out of a need to make an excuse to escape. Yet there was no where to run. Not from the tiny, nagging, voice in his head. Michael leaned back in his chair, a gesture that was meant to assure Birkhoff that he was willing to make time for him. "What is it?" he prompted. Heaving a sigh of acceptance, Birkoff dropped into the chair across from Michael's desk. But a moment later he was back on his feet and shuffling his feet from side to side. "Would you have cancelled me?" Birkoff blurted out without ceremony. The question had burned in his mind for three days. He had used Nikita to convince Operations that he had turned traitor, knowing that the head of Section One would send Michael in after him. And it had worked as planned. But almost too well. Operations had wanted Birkoff cancelled. Birkoff had done some fast talking to convince Michael to bring him in alive. Or had he? That's what ate away at Birkoff. Why was he still alive? Why hadn't Michael followed orders? "Does it matter?" Michael whispered, knowing exactly what it was that Birkoff was asking him. Knowing, too, what answer the young man wanted to hear. But it wasn't, necessarily, the answer he needed to hear. "Yeah... it matters," Birkoff replied, rather more forcefully than he had intended. It wasn't in his nature to tempt fate, and confronting Michael was doing just that. Tempting fate. Although he had known Michael for seven years, Birkhoff didn't know the other man. Sure as hell didn't understand him. Never would. But, in this matter, Birkoff had to know the truth. "Why didn't you pull the trigger?" Michael blinked, then pushed out of his chair in a fluid motion. "What explanation have you come up with?" he countered, gliding past Birkoff to close the door. This conversation would remain between just the two of them. Birkoff shuffled his feet again, reluctant to face Michael. To see the blank expression on the other man's face. Michael never let anyone see his thoughts. Except when it came to Nikita. And even then it was more Michael's actions, than his expressions, that revealed his feelings for the blond beauty. In regards to everyone, and everything, else it was a guessing game. "I'm not sure what to think, or believe," Birkoff confessed. "Believe whatever it takes to accept what happen and move on," Michael advised. "It's not that easy for me," Birkoff countered. "I'm not you." Michael almost smiled, remembering how Nikita had said the exact same words in Birkoff's behalf. "No... you're not," Michael conceded. "But we do have one thing in common." Birkoff almost laughed out loud in disbelief. "And what would that be?" he prompted, his curiosity ablaze. "We're both survivors," Michael whispered, returning to sit behind his desk. "We do what it takes to survive Section." "I guess," Birkoff replied, his voice dwindling off as he shook his head. He knew it was the truth. But there was a big difference between them, even in this instance. Birkoff was a user. He had used Nikita to survive. Had betrayed her trust in him. And he had done so without a moment's hesitation. Michael, on the other hand, often manipulated people, but Birkoff had long ago recognized his pattern. Michael didn't waste time, or effort, trying to convince people of what they should or shouldn't do. Or that it wasn't always a matter of right versus wrong. In Section, you weren't given the option to choose. The choice was made for you and you had to live with it. The mantra was simple. Do as you're told. But it was impossible to get them to accept the inevitable. Birkoff was young, but he was also a cynic. Not that being a cynic made him immune from being gullible. It simply made him able to see the truth. Whether or not he chose to accept it was another matter. Nikita, on the other hand, refused to see the truth, or accept it. But Birkoff had not been able to accept death, whereas Nikita and Michael seemed to challenge death on a daily basis. Michael let his eyes flicker to the information on his computer screen. He was reviewing a mission profile so that he could draw up his tactical. "I have work to do," he reminded Birkoff. Work that would save lives. Some lives. Birkoff made the decision to stand his ground. "Why didn't you kill me?" he challenged. "I don't underestimate your strength," Michael replied softly. And as he spoke he locked eyes with Birkoff. "You're stronger than you know." It was the closest thing to a compliment that he would ever give Birkoff. But the words needed to be said. Birkoff needed to believe in himself. To accept the fact that he was flawed. That he had made a selfish choice in order to survive. A choice he now had to live with. It was not Michael's place to convince Birkoff that he was worthy of that life. How could he do so when Michael doubted his own worth? "I'm not strong at all," Birkoff whispered. And yet, even as he said the words, he understood what Michael was saying. Understood just a little bit of the pain and torment that Michael suffered. In that moment, Birkoff felt an odd kinship with the other man. "Anyone else would have cancelled me," Birkoff stated, matter of factly. "Anyone but Nikita," Michael conceded. He broke eye contact, signaling Birkoff that this conversation was over. Birkoff heaved a sigh of relief, mingled with frustration. He wasn't proud of his actions, especially since he knew that given the chance to do it over again, he would make the exact same choice. But at least now he could live with it. And the reason why was simple, yet ridiculous. Michael believed in him. Birkoff knew that the other man would never put it in to words, but that didn't matter. It was enough to know the truth. "Do you think Nikita is still mad at me?" Birkhoff queried, even as he headed for the door. He hadn't seen Nikita since the white room. A part of him was afraid to face her. Michael almost smiled as he replied, "Yes. But she'll forgive you," he allowed, letting Birkoff off the hook. "Yeah," Birkoff replied. That was Nikita's way. She could forgive anyone almost anything. Even Michael. Birkoff opened the door but paused before stepping out into the hallway. "Thanks," he whispered. He didn't wait for a reply, knowing that Michael would not respond. But Birkoff's step was lighter as he headed down the hallway to his station. With both Michael and Nikita watching his back, Birkoff was confident that he could face his future in Section. Let Operations and Madeline do their worst. Birkhoff was ready for them. And he had a new motto. *I WILL SURVIVE*   The End BACK TO AUTHOR'S S-T LFN STORYBOARD ARCHIVES MAIN PAGE LFN LINKS PAGE Send suggestions or comments to Shelly