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ATTENTION: Stories marked with an * may contain material which would be better appreciated by those over 18. Parental Discretion is advised. This is your responsibility, not ours.
"MICHAEL!"
Nikita sat up in bed as she screamed out his name. Every night, for the past two weeks, she had suffered the same nightmare. Ever since she had turned the tables on Michael. Nikita had been the one to cause him pain, for once. But it had been physical, not emotional, pain. What haunted her was the way Michael had accepted it. No matter that is was mission profile, Nikita felt he should have been angry with her. Should have blamed her for hurting him, especially since she had enjoyed it. No sense in denying that she hadn't. Of course, technically, Nikita hadn't been the one to break Michael's ribs, but that was insignificant. The fact was, she had watched him suffer, and had relished it.
"I'm sorry, Michael," Nikita whispered, as she wiped tears off her face. She was just about to slide out of bed when the phone rang. Glancing at her clock, Nikita saw that it was three AM. She snatched up the phone. "Hello?"
"Josephine...come in," Michael said softly. Then he hung up.
Nikita swallowed back a sob as she tossed the phone aside then got up and dressed. Thirty minutes later she entered Madeline's office. Michael was there, standing beside Madeline at her desk. Head bent as the conversed, quietly. "You wanted to see me?" Nikita offered in greeting. Her eyes were on Michael's face and it bothered her that he was still so pale. Not surprising that he wasn't healed yet, however. Two days after the beating he had been sent to Paris on a mission. Nikita had been furious, Madeline had told her to mind her own business.
Madeline was watching Nikita, watch Michael. She knew that Nikita's feelings for Michael went deeper than the young woman realized. Deeper than was safe, for either of them. What Madeline had planned was cruel, but neccessary. Michael was in on it of course. Had to be to make it work. But he could be trusted to do as he was told. Michael always obeyed orders. "We have a mission for you," Madeline said, in response to Nikita's question. "You and Michael will be working alone. He has a contact you're going to meet with."
"That's it?" Nikita prompted, when Madeline fell silent.
Michael answered. "The information that my contact has is highly classified. We need to convince her to take us to her source."
Nikita was surprised. "A woman," she drawled. Then she shrugged. "Why not just seduce her, Michael. She'll tell us everything." In spite of her guilt Nikita was still hurting over Michael's betrayal and the words were out before she could stop them. Not that it mattered, she reminded herself. Michael betrayed no reaction at her gibes.
Madeline interjected. "You leave in one hour. Get what you need from Walter." Glancing over at Michael she said, "We're on a short window. Don't waste time we don't have." It was a warning to hiim to get the job done the way she had planned it.
"We'll get the job done," Michael replied, as he turned to head for the door.
"Later," Nikita said to Madeline, then she ran to follow Michael. She caught up to him around the corner. "Why am I on this mission?" Nikita asked, with genuine curiosity. "You can charm the evil out of a snake, if you want to, Michael. You don't need me."
Michael stopped walking. He turned to face Nikita, his eyes luminous. "It's another test," he whispered.
Nikita blinked, certain she had heard him wrong. "Excuse me?" she countered. "What did you say?"
"You heard me," Michael hissed, then he took Nikita's arm and continued walking. "Madeline thinks you have...feelings...for me. She wants to test them. And you."
"I thought that's what the other mission was all about," Nikita shot back, fury making her eyes flash. "Wasn't that the whole point of choosing me to interrogate you, Michael? To see how I would react to causing you pain?" She flinched as she remembered back to that chamber. To the pain shimmering in Michael's eyes. To the moment when she had betrayed the truth. That she had wanted to see him in pain. To know what it felt like to be on the other side of the fence.
Michael pushed Nikita into a small alcove, then pressed one hand over her mouth to silence her. "Listen to me carefully, Nikita," he said softly, his tone tempered with steel. "The past is over, focus on the present. If you fail this test, you will be relocated. Do you understand?"
Nikita pushed Michael's hand away, then shook her head. "No...I don't understand," she snarled. "What does that mean? Relocated where? Row 8, plot 30?"
"Relocated to another country, Nikita," Michael replied. He knew what she was thinking, and felt regret. But he didn't let it show. "You won't be free of Section so easily," Michael explained, hoping that Nikita would listen, and understand.
"Relocated away....from you?" Nikita whispered. At Michael's nod she smiled. "Maybe that would be for the best."
Michael resisted the urge to heave a sigh of relief. That's exactly what he had hoped for. He didn't want to lose Nikita, but he was sick of having to lie to her. To betray the feelings that he knew she had for him. This wasn't part of Madeline's plan, of course. But Michael was willing to risk getting caught. If that happened, he would take the blame, as he always did.
Nikita gazed at Michael through eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Why are you telling me this, Michael? Yet another test? Are you telling me...secrets...because it's part of the scenario that Madeline cooked up? Is that it?"
"I won't answer that," Michael replied, moving to turn away. He felt Nikita's hand on his arm and turned back, seeing a desperate plea in her beautiful eyes. But he shook his head. "No matter what I say, only you can decide what to believe. The *truth* means nothing to Section."
"Does it mean anything to you, Michael?" Nikita countered, seeing shadows flicker in his silver-green gaze.
He smiled at her, a cold curving of his lips. "I am Section, Nikita." With that, Michael turned and strode off.
***********
Two hours later they met with the contact. They were in a park, meeting on a little used trail. The woman, whom Michael called, Jeanette, was very nervous. Nikita felt herself becoming jumping as she watched Jeanette practically dance about with anxiety, her dark eyes darting from side to side, repeatedly. Nikita stepped close to Michael to whisper in his ear, "Something's up."
Michael was just about to agree when a shot rang out. He watched Jeanette topple over, her chest stained crimson. No need to check for a pulse, Michael knew she was dead. He shoved Nikita down even as he reached for his gun. "East sector," he hissed. "Take cover."
"Let's abort," Nikita hissed, even as she moved to roll behind some bushes." She knew Michael could hear her for she had tapped on her com unit. He had told her to wear one.
"We're surrounded," Michael shot back. He had spotted shooters in four locations. "I'll distract them. You head back to Section. Don't look back, Nikita," Michael warned.
She shook her head, even though he couldn't see it. Michael had taken cover behind a tree. "I'm staying."
Michael let his anger crackle in his voice. "You will obey orders, Nikita!" he snarled. "Return to Section." When she didn't respond he gave her a count. "On three. One...two...three!" On the last number, Michael came out of cover and began shooting. He had a gun in each hand and his aim was true. Two shooters went down.
Nikita was angry, but did as she was told. Only reason being that she suddenly realized this was a part of the test that Michael had warned her about. No doubt the shooters were Section operatives. Probably those from the abeyance pool. So Nikita did as she was told. She rolled out from under the bush, gained her feet and ran, shooting behind her for good measure. She reached Michael's car, jumped in and sped off. He had left the keys in the ignition. As she drove back to Section, Nikita felt her anger full-burn into flames. But then she reminded herself that she would have to play the game. In spite of what she had said to Michael earlier, she didn't want to be relocated. Section wasn't her home, but some of the people there had become like family to her. The only real family she had ever known.
Once Nikita was gone, Michael made a fatal mistake. He relaxed his guard. He had the advantage, even though he was outnumbered, for he realized that the shooters didn't want to kill him. But they were prepared to take him down and they did so easily. Two tranq darts to his thigh. But even as darkness claimed him, Michael went down shooting, taking another of the enemy down with him.
***********
When Nikita returned to Section it was find Walter waiting for her with orders for her to hightail it to Madeline's office. While driving she had reported in from Michael's cell phone, requested a backup team, which had been refused. Her orders were to come in immediately.
Nikita practically ran to Madeline's office, slowing her stride only when she reached the double doors. They swung open and she entered, her eyes going at once to Operations, who was pacing furiously.
"What the hell happened?" he demanded, the moment Nikita was in his line of sight.
"We were ambushed," she replied. "The contact was killed, and Michael ordered me to abort and return to Section." Nikita glared at Operations, openly defiant. "Isn't that what I'm supposed to do?" she challenged. "Obey orders?"
Madeline moved forward to intervene. Now was not the time of a confrontation of wills. Especially between Operations and Nikita. "Did you see the shooters?" she asked.
Nikita shook her head. "No. But Michael said we were surrounded. He took at least two out that I know of." Nikita turned to glare at Madeline. "Why haven't you sent a back up team?"
"There's no point!" Operations interjected.
"Why not?" Nikita persisted. "What...is Michael already dead?" Just saying the words made the blood rush to Nikita's head. She reminded herself that this was just another test. A scenario created for her benefit. Michael was fine. Just fine.
Madeline reached out and took Nikita's arm, leading her over to a nearby chair and making her sit. "Michael had been...taken," she said softly.
Nikita shook her head. "What do you mean?" she countered, her eyes searching Madeline's for the truth. In that moment she saw genuine concern in the other woman's dark gaze. "This isn't a test, is it?" Nikita whispered, not caring that she had just betrayed Michael by her words.
"No, it's not a test," Operations confirmed, as he moved to stand before Nikita. His eyes were pale as ice. "We received a transmission just before you arrived back. Michael is being held for ransom."
"Ransom?" Nikita repeated, feeling as if she had suddenly landed in the middle of a Twilight Zone episode. "How much?"
Madeline almost smiled. "They don't want money, Nikita," she said softly. Then, before the question could be asked, she answered, "They want...me."
************
A stunned silence filled the room as Nikita looked from Madeline's smiling face to Operation's grim one. "Why do they want you?" Nikita finally asked of Madeline. "And...who are they?"
"Tell her," Operations ordered. At this point he saw no reason not to. The mission that Madeline had planned was a bust, the test was over. Nikita had betrayed herself, and Michael. But Operations intended to salvage what he could. He also intended to get Michael back.
"They, is a woman by the name of Talia," Madeline replied, still smiling at Nikita. She knew that it through the other woman off balance and that was Madeline's goal. Always watching and testing. That was her job. "I leave in one hour to make the exchange."
Nikita was astonished. "You're actually going to trade yourself, for Michael?" she queried, finding that hard to believe. In spite of the fact that she wanted it to be true.
Madeline nodded. "We want Michael back."
"I get it," Nikita drawled. "This is just part of the set-up, isn't it? Part of the test." She stood up and shook her head. "You people really are sick. You killed a woman in the park just to set this up. Michael's...so called...contact."
"This isn't a test, Nikita!" Operations spat, stepping forward to grab the young woman by the arm and swing her around to face him. He was angry at her and the situation, but a part of him was the most angry at Michael. It was obvious that the young man had warned Nikita about the original mission being a test, and when he was back in Section, Michael would be duly punished for his actions. But, for now, Operations would take his fury out on Nikita. It was her fault, anyway, that Michael had betrayed the mission. "You're on close-quarter standby!" Operations hissed, his eyes flashing. "No missions until Michael is returned."
Nikita was furious. "I want to help!" she protested, yanking her arm free of his grasp.
Operations glared at her. "You've done enough!" he snarled.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Nikita countered, hotly. She was about to step in to Operations' face when Madeline intervened.
"Let it go, Nikita," she said softly, her eyes shifting from the young woman to the man beside her. "Right now we need to concentrate on getting Michael back."
Nikita was in agreement with that, if nothing else. But she was curious about something. "What about you, Madeline?" she queried. "How will you get out?"
Madeline knew that Nikita's concern was genuine, in spite of her anger. The beautiful blond detested the mind games that Madeline played, but that was part of Section life, and Nikita was an easy mark. She wore her heart on her sleeve. "I'll be fine," she said firmly. "You can go now, Nikita."
"Right," Nikita drawled. She knew that she was being, summarily, dismissed and it infuriated her to know end. But Nikita swallowed her fury and stalked out of the room.
"What happens now?" Operations questioned, the moment Nikita was gone.
Madeline smiled at him. "I pay Talia a visit," she replied, the she turned away to retrieve her coat from the closet. She could feel Operation's intense gaze upon. After slipping on the coat, Madeline turned to face him. "I have to do this. Talia has to be stopped."
Operations nodded. "I know," he said, the lines in his face softening for a moment as he looked at the woman who he cared deeply about. "She knew what buttons to push. Knew to take Michael."
"Talia knows us, she knows how we think." As Madeline spoke she was pulling on leather gloves. That done, she went to Operations and touched his face. "I'll be fine. Michael will see to it."
"What about Nikita?" Operations questioned.
Madeline shrugged. "She'll do what comes naturally." With that, Madeline turned at walked out of the room.
************ Nikita was waiting in a discreet, dark blue, sedan. She was parked on the side road that she knew Madeline would leave from. Knew because Walter had revealed what car the other woman drove. On the seat, beside Nikita, was a field pack, with everything she felt she might need on her quest to rescue Michael. Section be damned. Nikita wasn't going to believe anything Operations told her. She highly doubted that Madeline would actually trade herself for Michael's return to Section. So she intended to follow Madeline and take matters in to her own hands. When a silver-grey Mercedes pulled up to the four corners, Nikita signalled and pulled out into traffic, to follow. Michael studied the woman who, in turn, was studying him. She was attractive, with silver-blond hair that belied her age, which he guessed was in her early fifties. She had pale blue eyes, and they were cold as ice as they burned into him. He had heard someone call her by name. Talia. After a moment of contemplation, Michael was able to determine who she was. The woman Madeline had replaced at Section, seven years before his recruitment.
Talia stood against the wall of the small, windowless room. She folded her arms across her chest and took in every detail of the young man who was bound to the chair at wrists and ankles. Such restraint was neccessary she knew, for Talia had his file. He was the best operative at Section and would take out her men, if given the chance.
"Hello, Michael," Talia said softly, as she moved forward now to study him at close range. He was truly beautiful, and she liked the intelligence that shone in his silver-green eyes. She smiled when he simply gazed back at her, gorgeous face a mask, eyes cold and empty. "Madeline taught you well," she whispered. Still no response from Michael, so she let her fingers tangle in his soft hair. "Don't you wonder why I've brought you here?" Talia asked. "Or...who I am?"
"I know who you are," Michael said softly.
Talia was surprised and didn't hide it. "Do you.." she drawled. "Madeline told you about me?"
Michael shook his head. "No. I heard your name in passing and logged into your file. Out of curiosity." He was lying, for Madeline had mentioned Talia to him. But Michael knew that the woman was eager for him to acknowledge her importance, so he would do the opposite and belittle her significance.
"And what did you learn about me?" Talia inquired, her own curiosity piqued. "What did my file have to say?"
"Nothing of much interest," Michael replied, with a slight smile. He was prepared for the hand that cracked against his cheek. Talia was furious and Michael was pleased. She was not in control, which gave him the edge in this situation.
The moment she saw Michael smile, Talia realized what Michael had done. She shook a finger at him, then pressed her palm to his face, gently stoking the imprint she had left on his skin. "You are very good, Michael," she drawled. "I let myself loose control, and that's not allowed. But keep in mind, that you play the game so well because Madeline taught you. But I taught her."
Michael didn't respond, not even when Talia's fingers tangled in his hair once again and yanked his head back. He blinked at her, passively, when she kissed him, her tongue sliding into his mouth. Michael could feel Talia's anger emerging as he remained unresponsive. The moment she pulled back and glared at him, Michael added insult to injury by spitting on the floor at her feet. As if to rid himself of a foul taste in his mouth.
"Perhaps I'm giving Madeline too much credit!" Talia hissed, as she struggled to control her fury. She knew exactly what Michael was doing. He was pushing all the right buttons, pushing her to the edge of her emotional stability. And she was allowing it. Talia turned away from him and fought for control. She inhaled deeply, then exhaled on a sigh.
"Why did you bring me here?" Michael asked softly, knowing that he was breaking into Talia's concentration. That was his intention. Madeline had taught him that the best way to control someone was to keep them off balance. He knew he had to push hard with Talia, for she was no fool. She understood the game he played better than he did. Talia was the true master. Madeline had long ago drummed that into Michael's head.
Talia turned back around, her eyes clear and her expression serene. She was back in control now, and she would not lose it again. "All in good time, Michael," she drawled. "You'll understand everything....all in good time." With that she bent to kiss his cheek, then she turned and left the room.
Michael watched Talia close the door behind her, then he heard the lock click into place. Alone now, he studied his surroundings. Somehow, someway, he had to escape.
************
Nikita was surprised when she realized where she was. An old highschool that had been shut down. She watched Madeline park near the back entrance, then enter. A moment later, Nikita was inside as well. She listened to the echo of Madeline's footsteps to guide her way.
It didn't take long for Nikita to discover the guards. She almost, literally, ran into one of them. Big and beefy, carrying an M-16. This Talia person meant business. Nikita didn't let that stop her, however. She had come prepared. She took down the guard with a kick to the groin. Then silenced him with the butt of her gun to his temple. After dragging him into a storage closet, Nikita took out a syringe, which contained a strong sedative, and stabbed the guard in hte neck. He would be out for eight to ten hours. That done, Nikita snatched his radio off his belt and checked the frequency. She smiled as she heard a woman's voice order..
"Bring Madeline to the office."
"Bet that means principle's office," Nikita whispered to herself. She returned to the hallway, got her bearings, and moved off. Five minutes later she was still dodging guards, but lady luck was on her side. As Nikita was heading for the stairs that led to the second level, she heard voices on the radio. It was the same woman, welcoming Madeline. What amazed Nikita was Madeline's first words.
"Where is Michael?"
The other woman, Talia, laughed then replied. "He's safe, in the basement. Heavily guarded, Madeline."
That was all Nikita needed to hear. She did an about face and ran off.
************
Madeline studied Talia. The other woman had aged well, but then she had always been beautiful. That hadn't been the problem. She smiled and said, "I'm here as you wanted, let Michael go now."
"He's beautiful, Madeline," Talia drawled, a smile of her own curving her soft lips. "I knew you would come for him."
"Michael is our most significant agent, Talia," Madeline replied. "Of course I would come."
Genuine laughter filled the air as Talia moved in a slow circle around her former pupil. "Don't you think it's appropriate that we meet here?" she queried, meaning the school. "After all, I was your teacher."
Madeline nodded. "Yes, you were."
"Most teachers would be thrilled to have a student do so well, Madeline," Talia whispered. "But you....you crossed the line. You betrayed me."
"You betrayed yourself, Talia," Madeline said, her expression serene and matching her tone of voice. "You crossed the line. Not me."
Talia sighed, using the deep breath as a means to control the anger she felt building. She couldn't lose control. Not with Madeline. After all, she was the one who had taught the other woman what a powerful weapon control could be. "Tell me about Michael," she prompted.
************
As she continued on her way to the basement, Nikita's ears perked up as she listened to Talia speak. Maybe, just maybe, she would learn something more about her own mentor. A smile curved her lips as Nikita faded into the shadows as a guard approached. Madeline knew the game that Talia was playing. Knew it well. "Why do you think I'm here?" she countered, a smile curving her lips as she moved to perch on the corner of the dust-covered, oak, desk.
Talia considered a moment, before answering. It was all part of the game and she was eager to play. And to win. "I know who Michael is, Madeline," she said softly. "I know what he means to you."
"Do you?" Madeline countered, her expression never changing.
"You killed the only two women he's ever loved," Talia drawled. "His fiancee, Lynette, when he was eighteen. Then Simone."
Madeline blinked, then said, "Simone killed herself."
Talia laughed, her eyes glittering like chips of ice. "What about Nikita?" she queried. "Will you kill her too?"
"You've kept yourself well updated, Talia," Madeline countered, even as she filed away a reminder to have Birkhoff run a personnel check when she returned. The only way Talia could get her information was if someone inside Section was feeding it to her. They had a mole.
"Know your opponent," Talia recited. It had been her number one rule. "I know you, Madeline. You...and Operations. I'm getting to know Michael." She paused to smile at her student. "Does he know that he's being groomed to take your place?"
************ Nikita was stunned as she listened to the conversation between Talia and Madeline. Michael was being groomed to take Madeline's place. That was a shock to Nikita. She had thought he was in line to succeed Operations. She wanted to hear more but had to click off the walkie talkie, for she was approaching the basement and could hear footsteps. The guards. Nikita slipped into a shadowy alcove and removed a tranq gun. She was ready for when the two guards rounded the corner. Two hits and they were down for the count. She smiled as she stepped over the bodies, then headed down the hallway. There was only one, closed door, at the very end. Nikita was certain that was where Michael was being kept.
Dart gun in hand, Nikita approached the door. There were no other guards in sight, and when she reached for the door handle, she was surprised when it turned in her hand. There was no window, so she swung the door open cautiously, pressing her back to it and following it's path. A chair with ropes hanging from it came into her line of sight. Nikita hissed with frustration. They must have moved Michael. She pushed the door wide open and stepped towards the chair. A moment later she cried out as a steel forearm closed about her throat. She choked as she felt her windpipe being crushed, but then the pressure was suddenly released.
"Nikita.."
"Michael?" Nikita gaspsed, coughed a few times, then turned around to find him staring at her, blank expression firmly in place. "What the --" Her words were cut off as his hand covered her mouth. Nikita grabbed his wrist and gasped when she felt something warm and slick. Blood. Pulling Michael's hand away, she stared at his wrist. It was raw and bloody, and she suddenly realized how he had freed himself from the ropes. "Let me bind this for you," Nikita offered.
Michael shook his head and pulled his hand away. "It's fine," he hissed, then he stared hard at Nikita. "What are you doing here?"
Nikita shrugged. "I came to rescue you." A smirk curved her lips. "Should have known you could rescue yourself."
"How did you find me?" Michael countered, as he moved to the door and searched the corridor. But it was empty. He could guess that Nikita had taken out the two guards with the tranq gun she was holding. She would chose that method over a bullet.
"I followed Madeline," Nikita replied.
Michael was surprised, and let it show. But only for a moment. "She's here?" he prompted.
Nikita nodded. "Yeah...she's with Talia as we speak, trading herself for you. Hard to believe...isn't it?" Nikita locked eyes with Michael but, as usual, he revealed nothing.
"We have to go," Michael said suddenly, reaching for Nikita's hand.
"Go where?" she countered, even though she let him lead her out into the corridor.
Michael didn't hesitate. "To get Madeline."
Nikita stopped dead in her tracks. "Forget it, Michael. Madeline be damned. I came here to rescue you," she declared, her crystal-blue eyes flashing.
"Why?" Michael countered, softly.
"Because..." Nikita fell silent as she realized she didn't have an answer. But she did have a reason. "Because I owe you one."
Michael almost smiled. He understood what Nikita was...not...saying. "You owe me nothing," he said bluntly, his expression dead-pan. " You weren't the one who broke my ribs, Nikita. You didn't hurt me." Michael didn't flinch at what was a blatant lie. Nikita was the only person who had the power to hurt him.
Nikita shook her head. "It's not what I did or didn't do, Michael, that matters, " she said softly, unable to meet his silver-green gaze. "It's what I wanted to do. What I was feeling at the time, that matters. I wanted you to suffer." It was a hard confession to make, but Nikita was determined to be honest.
"It's okay," Michael said softly. "I understand."
"Well I don't," Nikita shot back. She would have said more but Michael cut her off.
He took put one finger to his lips to signal Nikita to be silent, for he had heard a noise. They both waited, listening for a moment, then Michael whispered, "We don't have time for this. I'm going after Madeline." His eyes locked on Nikita's face. "Go back to Section."
Nikita shook head, then took a firm stance. "I'm going with you, Michael."
"Why?" he shot back, without missing a beat.
"I don't know why," Nikita admitted. She was angry with Madeline, and all of Section, but she wasn't about to leave Michael alone. But she didn't tell him that. He had too much power over her as it was.
But Michael wasn't about to let her off the hook so easily. "Tell me why, Nikita," he entreated.
She smiled at him, but held her ground. "If I figure it out, you'll be the first to know." Nikita searched the corridor, then reached for Michael's hand. "Come on. I know where Madeline is."
They hadn't gone far when they heard footsteps approaching. Michael shoved Nikita into an alcove, taking the point position. When the guard passed, Michael reached for him and a moment later dropped the body to the floor.
Nikita stared at the guard's broken neck, then watched as Michael retrieved his gun and checked the clip before racking a bullet into the chamber. "You do that so easily," she commented. When he frowned at her, Nikita specified. "You kill...effortlessly."
"I do what I have to do," Michael replied, his eyes tracking the corridor, but they remained empty. He knew that Nikita was a bit shaken, but he didn't have time to comfort her now. She didn't understand what was at stake.
"No guilt?" Nikita persisted, uncaring about the mission any longer. She wanted answers. She wanted to understand Michael. If only a little. "Not ever?"
Michael shrugged. "What's the point?" He countered, bluntly. "Dead is dead."
Nikita refused to accept that. She knew that Michael had a heart. A soul. She had seen how deeply he had loved Simone. "How do you justify what you do, Michael?" she questioned, with intense sincerity. "How do you live with yourself?" Unknowingly, Nikita was hoping for answers, for herelf.
"I accept what I can't change," Michael replied. And that was the truth. Yet he knew it wouldn't be enough, not for Nikita. She needed reasons for every word or action.
"What does that mean?" Nikita challenged, her eyes glaring into Michael's but his were shuttered, refusing to allow her to see into his soul.
Michael knew this wasn't the time, or the place, to get into this conversation with Nikita, yet he found himself trying to give her an answer. "There's good and bad in all of us, Nikita. If we're lucky, sometimes we can find the balance between the two."
Nikita found a simple truth in Michael's words, but still it wasn't enough to satisfy her. "And what if we can't find that balance, Michael?" she prompted. But she was not to get her answer, for she hit the floor hard, as Michael shoved her down. A heartbeat later two shots rang out and Nikita froze. But then she rolled over and accepted the hand that Michael held out to her. Twenty feet down the corridor was a dead man. "Michael..." Nikita began, but she broke off as she saw blood staining the shoulder of his shirt. "You've been shot!" she hissed, reaching out to touch him.
"We have to move!" Michael shot back, taking Nikita by the arm and shoving her off in front of him. There was every chance someone had heard the gunshots and would come running.
"No!" Nikita snapped, yanking her arm out of Michael's grasp. She stopped in front of him, making him face her. "You saved my life," she stated, simply. When he simply stared back at her she challenged, "Why?" Nikita had a desperate need to know.
A long moment of silence passed before Michael whispered, "It's what I do." Then he turned and headed for the stairs.
************
Nikita ran to catch up to Michael, reaching for his good shoulder, making him stop. "Hold up," she ordered, her fingers digging into his muscle until he stopped. Nikita saw a flare of anger in his silver-green gaze, but ignored it. "Michael...in case you haven't noticed, you're bleeding and if we don't stop it you're going to leave a trail on the floor."
Michael grimaced to himself as he stared down at his left arm. Blood was soaking his sleeve and Nikita was right. Soon it would drip onto the floor and the guards would be able to find them easily. "I'll bind it," Michael stated, shortly, eyes tracking for a place to hide out, temporarily.
"I passed an infirmary," Nikita offered, helpfully. After all, this was a school. "We should find what we need there and it was in a deserted section."
"Show me," Michael ordered, gesturing with one hand for Nikita to precede him. He followed her down the corridor then to the left. Moving down a flight of stairs, they came upon the infirmary. The door was unlocked, and Michael nodded at Nikita to enter. He followed close behind, senses alert to possible intruders.
The moment they entered the infirmary, Nikita went in search of supplies. She found alcohol, cloth pads and sterile gauze. A few seconds more upturned adhesive tape. "Take your shirt off," Nikita ordered, when Michael had joined her.
He looked at her, blinked, then said, "I can do it."
"I know you can," Nikita drawled, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. "But it'll be quicker and easier if I do it." She waited a beat then reached out and grabbed a handful of his shirt, with the intention of pulling it over Michael's head. He was wearing a turtleneck.
"Fine," Michael protested, stepping out of Nikita's reach. He set his gun down and yanked the turtleneck over his head.
Nikita winced, in sympathy, for the pain she knew the motion caused, yet none of that registered on Michael's face. He didn't make a sound. But she swallowed back a gasp at the sight of him. Nikita's first impression at seeing Michael's, bared, chest was that he was as beautiful as a sculpture. But then she flinched to see that his ribs and abdomen were still mottled with bruises from his...interrogation, two weeks ago. But that was followed by horror at the sight of the bullet wound. She could tell that the bullet was lodged in his shoulder and swallowed hard. "Sit down," Nikita whispered, gesturing to the bed closest to her.
Michael saw Nikita turned pale and reached out to cup her face in one hand. "I'm okay," he said softly, hoping to reassure her.
"I know," Nikita shot back, making an attempt to regain her composure. "You're always fine, Michael. Like superman, nothing can hurt you. Not really. Right?" As Nikita spoke, she turned away from Michael, away from his touch, and reached for a cloth pad. She needed to wipe away the excess blood. She also needed a distraction as she worked. So she decided that now was the perfect time to ask questions. Turning back, Nikita saw that Michael had obeyed her and was sitting down. She pressed a pad to his wound and said, " Who's Lynette?"
"What?" Michael nearly jumped to his feet and Nikita's words. "Who told you about Lynette?"
Nikita lifted her eyes to meet his and told the truth. "I heard Madeline and Talia talking about her. She was your..fiancee...right?"
Michael didn't answer. Silence filled the air for a long moment as he stared deep into Nikita's crystal-blue gaze. Then he dropped his eyes and resisted the urge to heave a sigh. "I was engaged to Lynette when I was eighteen. She died."
"Died? Or was murdered?" Nikita prompted, watching Michael closely for his reaction. But he didn't even flinch. Not even when Nikita pressed an alcohol soaked pad to his open wound. Did the man feel nothing? she wondered. But then Nikita reminded herself of Simone. Michael felt....loved....deeply. No surprise, really, that he would try to shut down his emotions after watching his wife...who he believed dead for three years...blow herself up in front of him.
"Lynette was...killed," Michael allowed, as he locked his eyes on the wall over Nikita's shoulder. He couldn't face the intensity of her gaze, but he felt it.
Nikita was silent for a moment as she pulled away the pad, soaked another, then pressed it to his wound. When the silence grew heavy between them she asked, "Did Madeline kill her?"
Michael's eyes snapped to Nikita's face. "Why would you think that?" he questioned, carefully keeping his tone of voice neutral.
"Talia said to Madeline that she had murdered the two women that you loved. I know about Simone and, in a way, Talia's right. But what about Lynette?"
"Why do you want to know?" Michael countered, needing a moment to keep a grip on his composure. He hadn't thought about Lynette in over ten years. Although the pain of her death had diminished, it hadn't disappeared.
Nikita dropped another, blood-soaked, pad into a nearby trash can, reaching for a third. It worried her that Michael was bleeding so heavily, but she didn't mention it for she knew he would simply tell her to bind it and that he would be fine. "I want to know about you, Michael," she said, in answer to his question. "I want to understand you."
Michael looked at Nikita then, almost flinching from the sincerity that shone from her beautiful, blue eyes. "I'm not worth knowing, Nikita," he said softly. "Don't waste your time."
"It's my time to waste," Nikita shot back. Reaching for Michael's hand, she pressed it to the pad on his shoulder. "Hold this," Nikita instructed. She then picked up a roll of gauze and and began wrapping it around Michael's chest. The back of her hand brushed his warm skin and Nikita bit her lip as she felt him flinch. "You know what makes me tick, Michael," she said softly, as she brought the gauze up over his shoulder to anchor the pad. "You use it to manipulate me into doing Section's bidding. Or, maybe it's your bidding." Nikita heaved a sigh. "Sometimes I'm not sure where Section ends and you begin."
"I am Section," Michael acknowledge, a touch of sadness coloring his voice. "It doesn't for me, Nikita. I don't have anything to lose."
She shook her head as she reached for the adhesive tape. "I don't believe that, Michael."
He reached up to brush his knuckles across Nikita's cheek. "Yes you do," Michael whispered, a smile of regret curving his lips. "You should hate me, Nikita. I've hurt you in the past, and I'll do it again."
"All for the sake of Section?" Nikita hissed, feeling a sudden flash of anger. She secured the ends of the gauze with the tape, using far more pressure than was neccessary, and was rewarded with a flinch of pain from Michael. Guilt flooded through Nikita. "I'm sorry," she whispered, turning away.
"Don't be," Michael said softly. "I deserve it."
The fact that he believed that infuriated Nikita. She whirled around to face him, her eyes flashing. But when she saw cool, detachment shimmering in his silver-green gaze, Nikita swallowed her words. No point in defending Michael to himself, he wouldn't believe her anyway. So she changed tactics as she watched him pull his turtleneck back on. "Did you know that Section was grooming you to take Madeline's place?" When Michael didn't react, Nikita drawled, "And here I had always assumed you would replace Operations someday."
Michael reached for his gun, tucking it into the waistband of his pants, before moving back towards the door to check for guards. The corridor was clear, so he turned back to Nikita. "Odds are I won't live long enough to replace either one of them," Michael replied, his tone matter of fact. He had never expected to survive Section for as long as he had. Wouldn't be alive now, if it wasn't for Nikita. But Madeline had known how to pull him away from death's door.
"Why do you bother living anyway?" Nikita queried, as she moved to confront Michael. "You don't enjoy life. You barely even go through the motions. Walter told me that after Simone died, you shut yourself down. Until I came along. Is that true?"
"Does it matter?" Michael countered, silently cursing Walter. The old man cared about him, and Michael appreciated that. But he needed to learn to keep his mouth shut.
Nikita nodded. "It matters to me. Why do you save me, Michael? Why do you bother? I don't ask you too."
He turned away again to gaze out the corridor. Nikita's gaze searched to deep. "I do what I have to do, Nikita," Michael replied, seeking to distract her with a partial truth. Then he decided that it was time to ask a few questions of his own. "How did you hear all this...talk...between Madeline and Talia?" he inquired.
"With this," Nikita replied, pulling the radio out of one of her thigh pockets. "I took it off one of the guards."
"Let me see it," Michael requested. He took it from Nikita's hand when she held it out to him and flicked it on. Madeline's voice came through to them, loud and clear.
*********** "What happens now, Talia?" Madeline asked, as she moved to the window and stared peered out through the dusty glass.
Talia watched her, closely, seeking to find a weakness that she could exploit. "To you?" she countered, with a touch of sarcasm.
Madeline turned to face the other woman, a smile curving her lips. "To me and to Michael. Will you keep your word?" she taunted. "Will you let Michael go?"
"Michael intrigues me," Talia allowed, recognizing the game that Madeline was playing. But she was more than a match for her former pupil. "There's much that I could teach him."
"I don't think so," Madeline drawled. "Michael is...out of your league, Talia."
Moving to stand before Madeline, Talia lifted her hand and let her palm crack against the other woman's face. "You will never leave hear, Madeline!" she hissed.
Pressing a hand to her cheek, Madeline's only response was soft laughter.
************
Michael had heard enough. He switched off the radio and turned to Nikita. "Where are they?" he asked, his eyes shimmering with jade-fire.
"In the principal's office, second floor," Nikita replied, her eyes locked on Michael's face. It was fascinating to watch Michael shifting into *machine mode*. She wished she could do that. Simply turn her emotions off like flicking a switch. "Wait a minute!" Nikita hissed, reaching for Michael's good arm when he turned to walk off. "Where are you going?"
"To rescue Madeline," Michael replied, shrugging off Nikita's hand. His tone was emotionless. He had no time for that now. Michael was entirely focused on his mission. Retrieve Madeline and return to Section. Nothing else mattered. He couldn't let it.
Nikita shook her head. "Why?" she challenged.
Michael was surprised by the question and didn't bother to hide it. "What do you mean...why?"
"Well...why do you care if Madeline dies, Michael?" Nikita hissed. She crossed her arms over her chest in a gesture of defiance as a smirk crossed her lips. "Think about it," Nikita drawled. "All Madeline does is cause you pain, Michael. She killed Lynette and Simone, in her way. She set things up for me to hurt you. How many other beatings have you been subjected to at Madeline's whim? Hmmmm? Or tortures...bet you've been tortured once or twice." Nikita knew she hit a nerve when Michael grimaced then turned away.
"Section needs her," Michael said softly, in Madeline's defense.
Nikita went to him, making Michael face her. "Not good enough," she declared, locking eyes with him. "I want the truth, Michael. What is it between you and Madeline? Why did she come here to rescue you, and now you're gung ho to do the same for her? Were you lovers? Are you still?" They seemed like logical enough questions to ask, but at the same time they struck a painful chord in Nikita.
Michael found himself unable to hold Nikita's gaze. She was skittering into forbidden territory. "You're not ready for the truth, Nikita," he whispered.
"Ready or not, it's long over due," Nikita countered, unwilling to back off. Not this time. She deserved the truth.
"I can't give you the truth," Michael replied, his eyes flickering back to Nikita's face. He saw pain and anger shimmering in her crystal-blue gaze. A part of him wanted to give her want she needed, the other part of him knew better than to do so.
Nikita shoved Michael back till he hit the wall. Anger sizzled in her blood. "Damn you, Michael!" she hissed, blinking back tears of rage. "When you seduced me in my apartment, you said that we should take what we could get. That no one outside of Section could understand who we are. Well I have a news flash for you." Nikita paused to wipe her eyes with her shirtsleeve. "I'm a part of Section and I don’t understand us at all!"
Michael locked eyes with Nikita now and whispered, "I'm sorry."
"So you always say," Nikita shot back, one hand lifting to tangle in his soft hair. "You told me that you seduced me to keep me alive. Why? Because Section ordered you too?"
"I wanted you alive, Nikita," Michael replied. It was as much of the truth as he could reveal. When he attempted to turn his head from Nikita's intense gaze he felt her fingers tighten in his hair, forcing him to face her.
Nikita was silent for a moment as she stared deep into Michael's silver-green eyes. She contemplated his words then came to a realization. "Section would have let me go with Eric and simply written me off. Wouldn't they?"
Michael held Nikita's gaze, but didn't answer. When the silence between them grew deafening he said, "We have to go."
"I'm not finished here," Nikita hissed, releasing her hold on Michael's hair and taking a step back.
"We don't have time for this," Michael protested, as he turned his head to check the corridor once more. Still clear, but he doubted it would remain so for long.
A cold smile curved Nikita's lips. "We're gonna make time," she declared. She drew her gun from the holster on her hip, chambered a bullet, then pointed it at Michael's chest. "You see," Nikita purred. "I don't give a damn about Madeline."
Michael closed his eyes for a minute, then he faced Nikita, and the gun, as he had once before. Without fear. "You won't kill me, Nikita," he said firmly.
"You're right," she acknowledged, with a soft laugh. Nikita lowered the sight of the gun. "But I will shoot you in the knee cap. Very pain and debilitating. Odds are, we'd both be captured. Then Madeline will surely die. Me too. You'd live though, Michael. Talia likes you."
"What do want, Nikita?" Michael countered, accepting that she had the upper hand at the moment. And he could read in her eyes that she would shoot him at this point. Michael would have to bide his time.
She took a deep breath before answering his question. "I want the guilt to go away," Nikita confessed, unshed tears making her voice tremble.
Michael felt his heart constrict, but he refused to be swayed by Nikita's pain. One of them had to remain focused. Even so, he couldn't resist asking, "What guilt?"
"Hurting you," Nikita whispered, and now it was she who could not hold Michael's gaze. When he opened his mouth to speak, Nikita waved him silent. "I know that I didn't beat you, Michael," she said softly, eyes flickering over his face. "But I wanted you to hurt. I wanted you to suffer." Nikita swallowed hard, unable to speak over the lump that had formed in her throat. "You're the only one in Section who can hurt me. And you know it. Yet you still do what they say. Only thing is...when I look at you I see pain in your eyes. Pain for me. You are sorry that you hurt me. But that's not good enough, Michael."
"There's nothing else, Nikita," Michael replied, his eyes reflecting none of regret that he was feeling.
She knew that, but refused to accept it. There was more she needed to tell him, but Nikita lowered the gun first, putting the safety back on and returning it to her holster. "I can't sleep," she said softly.
Michael swallowed a sigh. "Madeline can help you," he suggested.
"No chance in hell I would ask for her help!" Nikita spat. "I'd trust a basket of rattle snakes over Madeline. If I told her about the....the..." Nikita broke off. Why bother, she decided. Michael didn't care.
"The nightmares..." Michael interjected, finishing Nikita's sentence. At her nod he whispered, "Only you can make the darkness and the demons disappear, Nikita." Michael knew that from experience. But, with that cryptic remark, he turned and walked out the door.
Nikita stared after him, and a long moment passed before she followed.
************
Michael gestured for Nikita to lead him to the principal's office. Along the way they encountered two guards. Michael dispatched of them both. Stangely enough, Nikita didn't care. She simply helped Michael drag the dead bodies into an empty room. Then they continued on their way.
Once they had reached the second level and were one hallway away from the office, Michael turned the radio back on. He listened as Madeline confronted Talia.
"Why risk your freedom?" Madeline was asking.
Talia had been pacing, now she turned to glare at the younger woman. "What?" she countered. "You mean by exposing myself to Section? Makes no difference," Talia drawled. "We both know the only way to be free in Section is to be dead."
Madeline smiled. "You never really answered my question, Talia. What are you going to do with Michael?"
"Keep him," Talia replied, a feral smile curving her lips. "I get Michael, you get freedom, Madeline. Sounds like a good deal to me."
"Why do you want Michael?" Madeline persisted. She locked her eyes on Talia's face, hoping to shake the other woman's focus. It was a trick that Talia had taught her.
Knowing what Madeline was doing, Talia laughed. She stepped closer to her former pupil, her eyes glimmering with hatred. "I think the more interesting question is...what do YOU want with Michael?" Talia countered.
Madeline shrugged. "Section needs him. I need him," she allowed.
"To replace you?" Talia queried. Then she raised a hand to cut Madeline off before she could speak. "We both know it's more than that, Maddy. Guilt...maybe?"
"Of what?" Madeline challenged. "Why would I feel guilty?"
Talia sighed. "You forget, I've read all the files, Madeline," she drawled, turning once again to pace in a lazy circle. Not because she was anxious, but because her movement was distractive. "You killed Lynette. Shot her in the heart, because Section wanted Michael. You knew all about his past. His mercenary uncle and the things he had learned. Knew that from the age of fourteen, Michael had become expert with guns and he was a chameleon. So Section recruited a beautiful, nineteen year old boy, because who would expect him to be the angel of death and deceit?"
Madeline's expression never wavered, but she was surprised by Talia's knowledge. She had killed Lynette, but it wasn't as simple a matter as Talia proclaimed. Lynette had not been an innocent. Not as Michael had truly been.
Nikita, who had been listening intently to the exchanged, gasped as Michael's past was revealed to her. She was as surprised by his history as she was by the fact that he had allowed her to hear it. Nikita's eyes locked on his face and she saw that he was pale as alabaster and that the bandage on his shoulder was spotted with blood. But she wasn't so sure that the wound was what had caused his shock. "Michael," Nikita whispered, reaching out to touch his arm. She watched him blink and the glaze in his eyes shimmered, then faded. He was in *machine mode* once more.
"Stay here, Nikita," Michael ordered, handing over the radio. He left it on, not caring what she heard. Nikita did deserve the truth. The truth that Michael couldn't tell her.
"Where are you going?" Nikita demanded, cutting him off when he would have moved down the corridor.
Michael swallowed back a sigh wishing, just for once, that Nikita could simply obey orders. "I'm going in to get Madeline," he replied. Then he locked eyes with Nikita, letting her see that he was would not debate with her over this. "I have my reasons for what I do," Michael allowed, the only explanation he was willing to give. "Please respect that, Nikita."
She closed her eyes, feeling guilt and anger wash over her. Michael had said the magic words and she stepped aside to let him pass. But she touched his arm and whispered, "Be careful."
"If I'm caught, return to Section," Michael ordered. Then he was gone.
************ Talia was surprised when two of her men entered the room with Michael between them. She took in the sight of the beautiful, young, operative, noticing the blood and the bandage. "How did you escape?" she queried, moving to stand before him.
Michael offered a cold smile. "It's what I do," he replied, his eyes flickering over to Madeline. He was pleased to see that she was neither hurt, nor bound, in any way.
"But you got caught again," Talia pointed out.
One of the guards shook his head. "He surrendered to us," he said, with more than a touch of confusion coloring his tone.
Talia frowned at Michael. "Why surrender?" she demanded. "You could have been long gone from here."
"I came back for Madeline," Michael replied, and this time his smile was genuine. He knew that it would infuriate Talia, and so it did. Michael felt her palm crack against his face. But he betrayed no reaction to the pain. "I want her dead," he announced, abruptly.
"What?" Talia shot back, certain that she had misunderstood.
Michael looked at Madeline, eyes cold, then back at Talia. "I heard you talking on the radio that I took from one of the guards," Michael explained. And, to make his story look good, he had taken out another guard and pilfered the radio, since Nikita had the other one. "I never knew...not for sure...that Madeline had murdered Lynette. But now I do know, and she deserves to die."
Madeline repressed a shiver. She understood the game that Michael was playing now, and prepared herself for what was to come. But he was so damn convincing that it gave her a chill. Still, her eyes never left his face.
Talia, on the other hand, didn't know what to think. She stared hard into Michael's eyes and saw hatred in the silver-green depths. Instinct told her that he was good the game, that he was lying. Yet a voice in her head taunted her into believing him. "If I let you kill Madeline, what then, Michael?" Talia challenged.
"I don't know," he allowed. "Doesn't matter. I'm dead either way. Dead to the world, anyway. And Section will hunt me down."
"You can stay with me," Talia offered, a smile curving her lips. She gestured to her guards to release Michael, then she went to him and buried her fingers in his hair, drawing his head down. Talia claimed a kiss, her tongue plunging into Michael's mouth, but he did not reciprocate. He was cold and impassive and Talia pulled back to frown at him. "You're not being very friendly," she chided him.
Michael shrugged. "I don't like you," he confessed.
Talia was pleased, and laughter bubbled out of her as she turned to face Madeline. Had Michael been submissive and eager, she would have known he was setting her up. But Talia believed he was sincere in his desire to kill Madeline and she couldn't have been more pleased. "How...ironic," Talia drawled, as she confronted Madeline once more. "That Michael should be the one to kill you. Don't you think?"
"I think that you're a fool, Talia," Madeline drawled. She let nothing show in her dark gaze, even when it flickered over to Michael. To Madeline's surprise, she saw hatred shadowed in his gaze.
"What you think doesn't matter to me anymore," Talia hissed. She went to one of the guards and took his gun. She then faced Michael and held it out to him. "Kill her," Talia demanded.
A smile curving his lips, Michael took the gun, chambered a bullet, then pointed it at Madeline's heart. For a split second, his finger hovered over the trigger. But then he turned and fired at the two guards. They went down without firing a return shot, then Michael faced Talia. He pointed the gun at her and smiled. "You're free," Michael whispered, then he pulled the trigger.
Madeline went to Michael, pausing to stare down at Talia for a moment, before stepping over the body. She touched Michael's shoulder, frowning at the bloodsoaked bandage. "How bad?" she queried.
"I'll live," Michael replied, without emotion. He cared not either way. A part of him wondered if Nikita was still listening, and if she understood what he had just done, and why. Somehow, he doubted it, and that thought brought with it a wash of pain and regret.
"Anymore guards?" Madeline questioned.
Michael shook his head. "No."
Madeline was pleased. "Thank you, Michael. Let's go."
"Wait," Michael countered, moving towards the door.
"For what?" Madeline countered, a frown marring her brow.
Michael paused, then looked back over his shoulder. "For Nikita," he said simply, then he was gone.
************
The moment the trio arrived back at Section, they were greeted by Operations. Nikita found it interesting to see concern mirrored in his pale eyes, which seemed to lock onto Madeline. He ordered them all to debrief, but a glance at Michael and he was sent to Medlab. As they headed out, Madeline told Nikita to be in her office in three hours, then she turned and followed Michael down the corridor. She wanted to be sure he was all right.
Three hours later, Nikita strolled into Madeline's office, feeling her stomach twist into knots. She sensed tension in the air as she glanced at Operations, who was standing beside Madeline. The dark-haired woman was seated at her desk. What surprised Nikita was Michael's presence. He was sitting in a chair, facing the desk. Nikita had expected him to be resting in Medlab. First thing she went to him, concerned by his pallor. But one look at the cold light that glimmered in Michael's beautiful eyes, and Nikita bit her tongue. "What's going on?" she asked, her gaze flickering over to Madeline.
"Sit down, Nikita," Madeline instructed. Her eyes were dark and her tone was cool.
"Am I in trouble?" Nikita questioned, as she dropped into the chair next to Michael's. Of course, she fully expected to be reprimmanded, since she had disobeyed Operations by going off to rescue Michael. But she sensed that something else was going on here.
Operations moved to the corner of Madeline's desk and perched on it, arms folded across his chest. His eyes moved over Nikita, shifted over to Michael, who was impassive, then back to Nikita again. He smiled at her, but when he spoke, his words were for Michael. "Nikita must be punished for her disobedience. I'm letting you chose, Michael. She can either be reassigned to another substation, or held in abeyance for a six month, probationary, period."
Michael knew exactly what that meant, but doubted that Nikita did. Still, he neither blinked, nor hesitated. "Relocate her," he replied. As he spoke, Michael rose from the chair. He locked eyes with Operations,who nodded, then he left the room.
Nikita was stunned. Michael hadn't even looked at her, and now he was gone, having made the decision to ship her out of Section. Hot tears prickled in the back of Nikita's eyes, but she blinked them away. "When do I leave?" she queried, determined to show Operations that she didn't care.
"You're very lucky, Nikita," Operations drawled, a cold smile curving his thin lips. The exchange between him and Michael had been a test, and Michael had passed. A part of Operations felt regret. Nikita was a thorn in his side, and he couldn't seem to get rid of her. "Consider yourself off active status for one month. You will participate in a reconditioning program during that time, so you will not leave Section from now until the probationary period is up. Do you understand?"
"Not really," Nikita replied, glancing over at Madeline with the hope that the other woman would explain it to her.
Madeline smiled, easily reading Nikita's thoughts. But she wasn't about to explain. Nikita had to find the answers to her questions...herself. "Operations is being very lenient, Nikita," Madeline said softly. "Reconditioning is one step away from abeyance. And we all know that Abeyance is -- "
Nikita cut her off with a wave of one hand. "I know. One step away from cancellation." She pushed out of the chair then asked, "Can I go now?" Nikita wanted to find Michael. They needed to talk.
"Reconditioning starts right now," Operations replied. "Report to Sector seven. You're...instructor...is waiting."
"Fine," Nikita replied, reading the underlying message clearly. She would not be seeing Michael, at least not right away. With a toss of her head, and a flash of defiance glimmering in her eyes, Nikita headed for the door.
Madeline looked at Operations once the doors had closed and they were alone. "You made the right decision," she said softly.
He sighed, then rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the band of pain that seemed permantly locked there. "I hope you're right, Madeline," he countered. "What about Michael? Is he all right?"
"I don't know," Madeline confessed. "I never have, never will. But Michael will always do the job." With that she rose from her chair and left the room.
*********** Michael was in his office, typing a report, when Madeline entered. She didn't knock and he didn't look up. "Yes?" he queried, when she had dropped into the chair across from his desk.
Madeline didn't reply for a moment. She studied Michael, taking in his pallor, and the dark smudges beneath his eyes. Exhaustion and made had taken their toll, but Michael revealed nothing in his gaze, nor by expression. "I want you in Medlab," Madeline said.
"I'm fine," Michael replied. It wasn't the first time he had used a local to have a bullet removed, allowed himself to be bandaged up, then headed back to work.
"It's not a request, Michael," Madeline replied, a smile curving her lips as his head turned and he glared at her. But only for a moment. Then the cold shimmer of detachment was back. "I'll escort you there myself," she continued. "I've instructed the doctors that you're to stay put for a minimum of three days."
Michael leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why?" he asked, knowing that Madeline always had a reason for the things she did.
With a shrug of her shoulders, Madeline replied, "I need you strong, Michael. You need to rest. To sleep. You won't do that at home."
"Is that all?" Michael countered, reaching out to switch off his computer. He wouldn't argue with her for there was no point. If he didn't go willingly, he would be taken there by force. Michael knew that from experience, one he would not repeat . "I thought we could talk first," Madeline said softly, her eyes locked on Michael's face. She was looking for signs that might allow her to read his thoughts, but his mask was firmly in place. Still, they needed to clear the air.
Michael almost smiled. He knew what was coming, so he was prepared. But he played the game. "Talk about what?" he questioned.
Madeline sighed then said, "Lynette."
"She's dead. What's the point?" Michael didn't flinch away from the intensity of Madeline's gaze, nor did he reveal what he was feeling. He wouldn't allow her to see that pain.
"I did kill her, Michael," Madeline confessed. "But there was reason."
He nodded. "Of course," Michael whispered. "There's always a reason."
Madeline swallowed back a sigh of frustration. Michael would not make this easy for her, but she was determined to make him understand. "Lynette was not an innocent, Michael. She wasn't what you wanted her to be."
"What I wanted her to be...or what you wanted?" Michael countered, a twitch of his sensual lips revealed a spark of cold amusement on his part. He thought about Lynette, Simone and Nikita. Section had used them all against him. His fault. "I'm well aware of my weakness, Madeline," Michael said softly, knowing that she would understand.
"But you still wanted to shoot me, Michael," Madeline countered, a gleam in her eye that challenged him to deny it.
Michael nodded. "Yes," he admitted. To deny it would be a lie and they both knew it, so why bother.
Madeline was relieved by Michael's honesty. And curious. "Why didn't you?" she prompted.
"Because of Nikita," Michael replied, and was rewarded by a look of surprise on Madeline's face. But the dark-haired woman recovered swiftly and her eyes shimmered like black-ice.
"You can't protect her, Michael," Madeline shot back, as she rose to her feet to confront him.
A genuine smile curved Michael's lips as he replied, "Watch me."
********** Nikita's month of reconditioning passed and she was back on active status. Her first mission was with Michael, and they were at a Jazz club, keeping an eye on a mark. Nikita smiled as Michael moved her across the dance floor. He was a wonderful dancer, but then she already knew that. "This brings back memories," she stated, her eyes locking with his for a brief moment.
Michael held her gaze then blinked. "Forget them," he replied, his tone not belying the emotions her words had stirred deep within him. He remember their last dance well.
"I don't think I can," Nikita confessed. Nor did she really want to. Things between her and Michael hadn't really changed, but Nikita felt more willing to try and understand him.
"Try," Michael urged, as he whirled Nikita around to get a better look at their mark. "Team one, converge at the door," Michael instructed over his com unit. When he fell silent again, he was surprised to feel Nikita's lips brush his in a soft kiss. "What was that for?" Michael queried, his eyes intent on Nikita's.
She shrugged, then smiled. "Just following an impulse, Michael," Nikita drawled. "You should try it sometime."
Her meaning was clear and Michael let a smile curve his lips, just for a moment. But then his focus returned to the mission. "Follow Daly," Michael ordered. After Nikita had nodded and stepped out of his arms to obey, Michael's eyes followed her until she was gone. But never forgotten. For the image of Nikita was burned into his soul.
THE END
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