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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.
It was late. Michael was in his office and he heard footsteps coming down the corridor. A moment later Birkhoff stood in the doorway. "What is it?" Michael asked him.
The young man stood there, hesitant, one hand rubbing over his head. Then he came in and dropped into the chair across from Michael. He had been wanting to come here for the past three days but had found numerous excuses not to. But now it was time to bite the bullet. "Michael...can we talk?" he asked, his voice hushed.
"Of course," Michael replied. He turned away from his computer to show that his attention was focused onBirkhoff. "Is something wrong?" The younger man had only come to him once before with such a serious look on his face. Then he had asked Michael what it was like to kill someone. A difficult question to answer.
"How do you know when you're in love?" Birkhoff blurted out, then found it hard to meet Michael's eyes.
Michael was a bit surprised by the question, but didn't let it show. A smile curved his lips as he replied, "Isn't that a question you would be better off asking Nikita?" The young woman had a heart full of love and compassion that she wasn't afraid to show to the world. Unlike himself. Michael had long ago shut himself off from his heart and soul.
Birkhoff shook his head at Michael's suggestion. "Nikita is a girl," he said, as if that explained everything. When Michael simply looked at him, Birkhoff explained. "She sees things from a woman's point of view. I want to know what love is from our point of view."
"Everyone sees love differently, Birkhoff," Michael replied. "It's means something different to each of us. It depends upon what we need. I'm not the one to explain it to you."
"Yes you are," Birkhoff insisted. And on this point he would stand his ground. "You loved Simone, Michael," he reminded the other man.
Michael didn't deny it. In fact, he confirmed it. "I did love Simone," he allowed. "But it's not something that you can put into words, Birkhoff. It's...feelings."
Birkhoff nodded. Wanting to understand, but he didn't. After a moment of silence he asked, "Do you love Nikita?" He was thinking about the time he had hoped for a relationship to happen between him and the beautiful blond, all the while knowing that she saw him as a younger brother. And that Michael was the man she couldn't take her eyes off of. Even when she was angry with him, Birkhoff knew she still watched him. Course, Michael was always watching Nikita as well. It was almost comical at times.
"Birkhoff..." Michael didn't know what he was going to say in response to the young man's question, but fate intervened in the form of Madeline.
She popped her head in the door. "Emergency meeting, Michael," she said. "Now. For both of you." Then she was gone.
Michael turned off his computer and stood up. "I guess this conversation will have to wait," he said softly.
Birkhoff nodded. "I'll get back to you," he promised, or perhaps it was a threat. Either way, he proceded Michael out of the office then practically ran down the corridor. Operations was not a patient man.
After the briefing, Birkhoff cornered Michael before he could leave the room. They had two hours before the van would leave and he had a few more questions. "How old were you when you first made love?" was the first. Before Michael could respond he added, "Was it with Simone? Or was it for the Section?" Birkhoff knew that Michael had often been asked to seduce women, and to bed them, as part of the *job*. He kind of figured it was most men's ultimate fantasy come true.
Michael resisted heaving a sigh as he perched on the corner of the conference table and crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes glimmered as he regared the earnest young man before him. Birkhoff was so desperate for simple answers. He was used to finding solutions to problems that were easily proccessed and followed a logical pattern. That wasn't the case here. He addressed the first question. "There's no age limit to adhere to, Birkhoff. And as for the other...you're asking two diverse questions. There's nothing wrong with having *sex*, but you should *make love* first...if you can. Either way, you'll know when the time is right.
"How will I know?" Birkhoff persisted, feeling somewhat desperate. He wanted to understand. Needed to.
"You'll just know," Michael replied. He pushed away from the table, reached out to pat Birkhoff on the shoulder, then left the room.
Birkhoff was in the van, watching as Michael and Nikita met with a contact who, supposedly, had some information regarding an assasination attempt that would be made on a US government official. The contact was nervous and jumpy, and Birkhoff soon realized that he was simply blowing smoke. He watched Michael, who was tracking the area they were in, a narrow alleyway. Just then the contact pulled out a gun. Birkhoff almost grinned as he watched Michael shoot the guy without blinking. Then he and Nikita began to move.
"Oh no!" Birkhoff shouted, as he heard gunshots. He then heard Michael yell Nikita's name. She was wearing the glasses with the videocam and when Birkhoff's screen went blurry he guessed that she had fallen. He went pale, thinking she had been shot. But then he heard her voice in his headset.
"Michael's down!" Nikita shouted. She returned fire and took down the shooter. "We're coming in," she said.
Birkhoff was at the door of the van when Nikita and Michael appeared. He was relieved to see that Michael was moving under his own speed, but one look at Nikita and he knew it was bad.
Michael didn't see the exchange. He fought off the darkness that weighed down upon him. "Go," he ordered, then he felt the lurch of the van as the driver took off.
Nikita was by Michael's side in an instant, pushing him down onto one of the seats. She pulled off his coat yelling to Birkhoff, "Get the first aid kit!" Blood had soaked the front of Michael's t-shirt. He had taken the bullet close to his armpit on his left side. For all she knew it was lodged near his heart, right now he was quickly slipping into shock.
"What happened?" Birkoff questioned, as he joined Nikita with the first aid kit.
"He saved my life," Nikita replied, her fingers gripping Michael's shirt to rip it open. She was shaking herself, thinking how close she had come to dying. "Michael pushed me out of the way and took the bullet," Nikita explained.
Birkhoff didn't respond. He couldn't even imagine what that would be like. To have someone risk their life to save him. Putting his life before their own. But he didn't have time to think about that now, Nikita needed his help to save Michael.
Birkhoff paced in the small space beside the bed. Michael had been in Medlab for four days now. For the first day they had feared he wouldn't live. The second day he had drifted in and out of consciousness. The third day he had slept a healing, normal slumber. Today Birkhoff was hoping that Michael would be feeling up to a visitor. Nikita had been with him for most of the past three days, but Madeline had sent her home to rest.
"Birkhoff..."
At the sound of his name, Birkhoff stopped pacing and glanced over to the bed. Michael was smiling at him...sort of. "How do you feel?" Birkhoff asked, moving over to the railing.
Michael nodded. "I'm okay. What are you doing here?"
"I just wanted to see if you were...all right," Birkhoff replied. But he left the sentence dangling.
"And?" Michael prompted. He knew there was another reason why Birkhoff was here. Not that he doubted his concern, but Birkhoff was like and open book. Easy to read.
Birkhoff decided to be honest. "You almost died, to save Nikita. You took a bullet for her." Birkhoff rubbed his palm over his head. "Is that what love is?"
Michael didn't answer. His eyes had flickered over Birkhoff's shoulder. Nikita was standing in the doorway.
"Yes, Birkhoff," she replied, moving into the room. "That's a part of love." She went to Michael and smooth a stray lock of hair off his forehead. He looked better today. Not so pale. Nikita bent and brushed a kiss against his lips. Then she turned to Birkhoff. "Loving someone is kind of like trying to put together a puzzle when all of the pieces don't fit. And no matter what you do, you can't make them fit. But in the end it doesn't matter because people aren't perfect. And that's part of what makes them worth loving. It's still a beautiful picture, flaws and all." Nikita went to Birkhoff now and kissed his cheek. "What you need to remember is that loving someone is very complicated, but worth it....in the end."
Birkhoff smiled at Nikita, then his glance moved to Michael. The other man's eyes were on Nikita, as they always were. Nodding, Birkhoff headed for the door. "Thanks," he whispered, then he was gone.
"He's a good kid," Nikita replied, moving back over to Michael's side. She took his hand and smiled. "I'll have to remember my own advice. That it's worth it...in the end."
Michael didn't respond with words, but his eyes spoke volumes as he brought Nikita's hand to his lips and kissed her palm. But then his eyelids fluttered closed and he drifted into sweet darkness, taking the image of Nikita's beautiful face with him into his dreams.
THE END
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