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. Walter sighed as he pulled down the gate to close off his work area. It had been a long day and he had put in a twenty hour shift. But that wasn't the real reason he was feeling so weary. And old. It was a time of change in Section One and he was worried. Mainly because it felt to Walter as if he were the only one not changing. It had begun at the top. After the Adrian drama, featuring Nikita as a lead player, Walter had seen the change in Operations and Madeline. Not for the better, either. A part of Walter believed that part of the attitude change regarding Operations was made on a personal level. He knew about Operations' past relationship with Madeline, and had noticed how the head of Section One had made subtle attempts to spark life back in a dead ash. Only Madeline never re-crossed bridges she had burned behind her. But it was more than that. Nikita had changed, become more... Sectionized... after forcing Operations and Madeline to defend Section One against Adrian's accusations. They had done a good job. Nikita was now more accepting of the way things were. She didn't fight the battles she knew couldn't win. But there had been a price to pay for her act of rebellion. For a time, Walter had been certain that Nikita would be cancelled. Had seen the same fear glimmering in Michael's eyes as well. But Nikita was still with them, and Walter knew that Michael had intervened on her behalf again. Had defied Section to do so. Michael had become a true member of the five percent club. Walter had always wanted to believe that Michael belonged to the club. Had believed it when the young man had first come to Section. And was only just now beginning to understand the sacrifices that Michael had to make. Not only for his own survival, but in keeping Nikita alive. For that Walter would always be grateful. Michael was changing as well. It worried Walter at times. The young operative had once been so careful to hide his emotions, to mask whatever he was feeling to the point that he appeared machine-like. Now that mask was cracking and emotion was leaking out. Walter knew that Operations and Madeline were aware of Michael's crumbling facade and he shuddered to think about what they might do to the young man. They had invested fourteen years in Michael, with the long term hope that he would some day take over the Section. Walter rather wished that day would come soon, but he knew that Operations was no where near ready to hand over the reins. Sighing once again, Walter headed for egress. He passed by Birkoff's station and smiled at the computer whiz, only to be ignored. The kid was busy. He was always engrossed in something whether he was working or not. It bothered Walter that Birkoff didn't know how to relax and have fun. He was changing too, becoming more cynical and retracting even further into himself. It was neither healthy or normal. But then, Walter reminded himself, what was? He was nearly out the door when he spotted Michael coming down the hallway. Was about to say *hi* when he took note of the young man's pale features. Walter realized that Michael was shaking and it sent out warning signals to his nerve endings. Something was terribly wrong. "Michael... you okay?" Walter asked, as he reached the younger man. He expected Michael's usual answer of -- *fine*. So Walter was stunned when he whispered, "No." "What's wrong?" Walter persisted, even though Michael had stepped past him. He followed and grabbed the other man's arm, hauling Michael around to face him. "Dammit, Michael!" Walter hissed. "Talk to me!" Michael didn't feel Walter's fingers digging into his flesh. He didn't hear the concern in the other man's tone. He was too numb to feel, or sense, anything. He tried to tug his arm free but lacked the strength. He said nothing. Walter grabbed Michael by the shoulders and slammed him into the nearby wall. Then he cupped Michael's face between his hands, forcing the young man to look at him. But Michael's eyes were dull and lifeless. "What the hell happened to you?" he demanded. Walter knew that Michael had been sent on a solo mission. Had believed it to be too soon after the mission that had nearly destroyed Michael. Separating the operative from his son forever. Walter had feared for a time that Michael would eat a bullet, or that Section would cancel him, but Nikita had pulled Michael back into the land of the living, so to speak. And in doing so had given Walter hope that she and Michael were finally becoming a team. Partners in Section and out. A terrifying thought occurred to Walter. "Is it Nikita?" he demanded. "Nikita..." Michael whispered, but he was merely echoing her name. He had not heard Walter's question. Would not have comprehended it if he had. "Michael!" Walter shook the young man, desperate to get through to him. "Tell me what's wrong!" Even as he spoke, Walter sensed another presence and didn't need to look to know who was standing there. Madeline moved forward to claim Michael. "I'll take care of him, Walter," she said softly. It bothered Walter when Michael took Madeline's hand and let her lead him off. He wanted to follow them but knew better. Wanted to demand answers, but had learned not to waste his time. Madeline would tell him nothing. But maybe he could find someone who would. Birkoff always knew more than he let on. But first things first. Walter headed out again. He had to find Nikita. ************ Walter pounded on Nikita's door. He waited a moment, and when there was no reply, he pounded again, this time shouting her name. Just as he was getting ready to kick the door in, it swung open and Walter stumbled through, colliding with Nikita. She caught Walter, a frown on her face as she set her friend on his feet. "What the hell are you doing?" Nikita demanded, even as she finished belting her robe. Her blond hair was dripping wet and her skin was dewy with moisture, testimony of Nikita having just stepped out of the shower. "I thought..." Walter began, but paused and swallowed back his fear. Nikita was safe and he was relieved, but that didn't change the fact that something was wrong with Michael. To that end, Walter would have to see what he could find out from Birkoff. So he smiled at Nikita and made to leave. "Whoa... hold on, Walter," Nikita stated, as she grabbed the old man by the arm and swung him back around to face her. "Why are you here? What's wrong?" Nikita could guess, from the expression on Walter's face, that he had believed something to have happened to her. That he was still worried after seeing her alive and well, led Nikita to believe that Walter was worried about Michael as well. "Talk to me, Walter," Nikita ordered, as she led him over to a nearby chair and pushed him down in to it. "Sorry, sugar," Walter began, as he cracked his knuckles. It was a bad habit he had when he was nervous or worried. "I thought you might be... sick... or something." Nikita grinned, but it was a cold smile. "You mean... you thought I might be dead. Why?" Walter heaved a sigh and decided that it would be best to come clean. Nikita would only find out in the end anyway. And he couldn't deny her anything. "Something is wrong with Michael," Walter blurted out. Then he held up one hand to silence Nikita. "Before you ask, I don't know what happened. He returned from his mission and was like a zombie. Worse than when he lost his son." "Dammit!" Nikita hissed, as she turned away from Walter and began to pace. "What the hell have they done to him now?" "I don't know, sugar. And Madeline wasn't talking," Walter replied. Nikita grimaced. "Great... Madeline's got her hands on him. That should mess Michael up some more." Determination glittered in Nikita's blue eyes as she headed for the stairs. "I'm gonna get dressed and head in. Maybe I can do some damage control." Walter rose from his chair. "Good idea, sugar," he stated. "I'll head back myself and see if I can learn anything from Birkoff. Come see me when you get in." "Thanks, Walter," Nikita countered, blowing him a kiss. Then she disappeared into the bedroom. Nikita knew better than anyone how fragile Michael was. And if Section finally managed to shatter him, then Nikita was going to be there to sweep up the pieces. ************ Walter made an effort to look busy, but he couldn't concentrate on his work. He had returned to Section and had cornered Birkoff in his room. It didn't take long for him to learn what had happened to Michael. What stunned Walter was the fact that, for once, it was not mission related, nor the fault of Section One. But that didn't make it any easier to digest. "Hey Walter." Nikita made her greeting casual as she strode over to the old man's station. "What's up?" It was a question within a question. "Bad news, sugar," Walter replied, even as he forced a smile. One never knew when the very air might have eyes and ears. Nikita felt herself grow pale. "Is Michael all right?" she asked, her concern making her voice husky and raw. Walter sighed. "I don't think so," he replied sadly. "I just got the word from Birkoff. It's on the QT, so don't go off on me, okay?" "Whatever you say, Walter," Nikita replied. She would have promised him the moon in that moment. "What happened? What did Section do to Michael this time?" "It wasn't Section, Sugar," Walter stated. "It was... fate." He grimaced when Nikita suddenly grabbed a handful of his shirt and slammed him into the wall. "Okay... I'll tell you. After his mission, Michael took a side trip to France. It was on the way home so he thought he would check on his sister. Only he was hit with the headlines." Nikita frowned, then shook her head. She was tempted to shake Walter. "What are you talking about? What headlines?" Freeing himself from Nikita's grasp, Walter heaved another sigh. Sometimes he wished he had magic powers and could make all the wrongs in the world, right. "Michael's sister, her husband and their little boy died in a car accident. They were hit, head on, by a drunk driver. And it make the front page headlines because the drunk driver happened to be a police official." Walter shook his head. "Of course, the bastard lived." "Oh my god," Nikita whispered, as she sank down onto a nearby stool. "Now Michael really has lost everything. His parents, Simone, Rene, his son. Now his sister and her family." A tear trickled down Nikita's cheek and she swiped it away with her fingertips. "Are you sure Section had nothing to do with it?" Nikita demanded. She wouldn't put anything past them. "Why don't you ask me that question, Nikita?" a gruff voice drawled, sarcastically. Nikita turned around to glare at Operations. "Fine!" she spat. "Did you kill Michael's sister and her family?" Operations grinned. "No," he said softly. "Not this time." And as he turned and walked away, ice-blue eyes glimmered with genuine sadness. ************ Michael dreaded the confrontation. He knew that he couldn't hide from Nikita, although the three days that Madeline had allowed him to take off had been helpful. Michael had gotten on his motorcycle and disappeared. Upon returning home he had found his answering machine overflowing with messages from Nikita. Luck had placed Nikita out of the country on a mission, so Michael had been given another twenty-four hour reprieve. But the time to face her had come. Without checking his security video, Michael knew that it was Nikita who knocked on his door. "Come in," Michael called out, as he draped a drop cloth over the easel he had been working at. He didn't want Nikita to see what he was painting. It was too dark for her soul to bear. A portrait of death and despair. A mural of Michael's life. Blood and sin and darkness. "Michael..." Nikita breathed his name as she entered the loft. She was surprised to see him dressed in loose white pants and an oversized white sweater. She noted that Michael looked pale, but otherwise seemed fit enough. A bit thinner, but that was to be expected. "I'm sorry," Nikita stated, as she strode across the room till she and Michael were face to face. Michael nodded, locking eyes with Nikita. He could see her pain and the compassion that she felt. "Thank you," he replied. "I got your messages, Nikita," Michael continued. He was going to tell her the truth. The time for lies between them had long passed. "I was... out of town." Pressing her the palm of one hand to Michael's cheek, Nikita offered a smile. "I know. I came by here everyday. I was worried about you." "Why?" Michael prompted, as he leaned his cheek into the warmth of Nikita's hand. "Were you afraid I might... kill myself?" "Yes," Nikita admitted. "You're human, Michael. And you've lost everything now. Everyone you love." The comment, and the sadness with which Nikita spoke it, brought tears to Michael's eyes. But he blinked them back and whispered, "Not everyone, Nikita." She held her breath as Michael leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her lips. Nikita wanted to kiss him back, but she sensed that he was not ready for her tenderness. So she contented herself with wrapping her arms around Michael and drawing him into a hug. "I'm here if you want to talk," she breathed in his ear. "I don't think I'm ready to talk," Michael confessed, but he wrapped his arms around Nikita's waist and tightened the embrace. "But... I'm glad you're here. I feel... so alone." "I know," Nikita replied, pulling back just far enough so she could look into Michael's beautiful eyes. They glittered with pain and glowed with sorrow. "I wish I could make things better for you," Nikita whispered. "If there's anything I can do to help, all you have to do is ask, Michael. I'll do whatever it takes." The simple truth of Nikita's statement pierced Michael's heart like a knife. No matter how he had hurt her in the past, she was always there for him. "Come walk with me," Michael beseeched, pulling away from Nikita so that he could grab his coat. "It's cold out," Nikita stated, even though she would have walked the glacial planes of Antarctica had Michael asked her to. She was thinking more about his comfort than hers. "I like the cold," Michael replied, as he shrugged his coat on then headed for the door. "I don't really feel it anymore. I'm so cold inside." The confession broke Nikita's heart, but she fought not to let it show. Michael didn't want her sympathy. That wasn't his way. So Nikita followed him out without responding. Once outside she reached for Michael's hand. His fingers were ice-cold and Nikita did what she could to warm them. "Where do you want to walk to," Nikita queried, for it seemed to her that Michael had a definite destination in mind. There was a long moment of silence before Michael answered. "I want to visit the cemetery," he whispered. "Why?" Nikita challenged, thinking that a graveyard was the last place Michael needed to be. "Your sister and nephew aren't buried here." "No," Michael allowed. "But... I need to remember." It was a cryptic statement. Nikita stopped walking and pulled Michael to a stop. She locked eyes with him, wanting to see the truth, as she asked, "Remember what?" It was hard to hold Nikita's gaze. Hard to see the love she felt for him, glowing in the sky-blue eyes. But Michael would not lie to her now. Would not lie to himself. "I want to remember that I am human," he whispered. "I want to remind myself that death is stronger than life... if we let it be. Death has been a part of me since I was seventeen. The moment my parents died." "I'm so sorry, Michael," Nikita replied. She reached out to brush a stray curl off his forehead, smiling at the fact that Michael was letting his hair grow out again, but leaving it to curl instead of brushing it straight. Curly hair and white clothes. Michael was changing. "Don't be sorry," Michael countered, capturing Nikita's hand and bringing the palm to his lips to press a kiss into the warm, soft, flesh. "Just... don't stop caring, Nikita. If you care for me... then I won't be lost." Nikita felt touched by Michael's confession, but it worried her as well. After losing so many people he loved, Michael should have been a basket case. Or, at the worst, he should have reverted back into being a machine. More so than ever before. Shutting off all emotion, and not just as a facade either. But he was opening up to her, letting his pain show. Letting himself feel. "I will always care for you, Michael," Nikita whispered. But... what happens now?" Michael knew that she was really asking two questions. "What happens to me won't change," he stated. "I'll keep doing the job. It's my fate. My destiny, Nikita." Michael paused to look up at the stars for a moment, then he locked eyes with Nikita once more. "As for us... I will always love you. But it may never be enough. So... I guess what happens now... for us... is that we accept what we can't change." "Meaning what?" Nikita prompted. "Meaning... we take what we can get and we make it enough," Michael replied. Then he reached for Nikita's hand and continued walking. "But things are changing, Nikita," Michael breathed. "It's a season of change... for us all." ************ Madeline watched Michael closely. Two months had passed since the deaths of his sister and nephew. Within a week, Michael was back to his old self. Yet, he was different. In regards to doing the *job*, Michael was sharper than he had ever been. His tactical skills were honed to perfection, and his mission success rate was one hundred percent. But Madeline couldn't rid herself of the feeling that something had changed. Something intrinsic within Michael. He was not the innocent he had been upon coming to Section One. Nor was he the emotional train-wreck he had been after believing Nikita was dead, then about to die. And certainly he was not the shattered soul he had been after losing Adam. Many things were changing in Section. Personalities and attitudes aside, the hierarchy was about to change. The order came from high up and was relayed to Operations via George. Michael was to be promoted. His level of power would now be equal to Madeline's. He would no longer answer to her. Now he had only to answer to Operations. That was why an emergency briefing had been called, so that Operations could give Michael the news. Madeline had offered to do it, knowing that Operations was not happy with this particular change. It wasn't as if Michael hadn't earned it. The problem was that Operations was scared. Scared of Michael. The young man had procured his own sources and his own contacts during his fifteen years with Section. He was powerful in his own right, and Madeline knew that Michael was now protected by George. A fact that worried Operations to no end. And rightfully so. Madeline was concerned with what Michael would do with his new power, especially since she had come to the realization, in the past two years, that she could no longer read Michael. "I've called this briefing to impart some... good... news," Operations began, calling the meeting to order. He glanced at Madeline as he spoke and acknowledged her smile with a slight nod. Only she could understand, and sympathize, with his fears. Although Operations realized that Madeline considered fear to be a weakness. "I didn't realize there was such a thing as *good news* inside Section," Nikita drawled, uncaring that her sarcasm grated on Operations' nerves. She simply ignored his ice-blue glare. Forcing a smile, Operations addressed himself to Nikita. "Good things come to those who earn it," he replied, then he shifted his attention to Michael. "As of this moment, Michael, you are a class ten operative. Congratulations." Michael heard the words and was stunned, but he did not betray his reaction other than to blink. "Why?" he questioned, his voice whisper soft. "George felt you deserved the promotion," Operations replied. "Madeline and I agree." Walter was sitting beside Nikita and he leaned towards her to whisper, "Like hell they do." Nikita leaned back to ask, "What does that mean? Class ten operative?" "It means that Michael has the same... power... here in Section as does Madeline," Walter replied. "She won't be giving him orders any more." "This could be a good thing," Nikita muttered beneath her breath. "So... you're saying that Michael now has as much authority within Section as Madeline does?" Walter nodded. "Basically... yes. Only... he doesn't have the same *in* with Operations that Madeline does," Walter drawled, his mouth twisting into a smirk. "If you know what I mean." Nikita stifled a snort. "Yeah... I know." She would have said more but Nikita was starting to feel the chill of Operations' glare so she subsided into silence. "Congratulations Michael," Madeline offered. She could guess at the dialogue that had been exchanged between Nikita and Walter. In fact, she could almost hear Nikita's thoughts, her mind churning with ideas. Ideas that would not be allowed hope. Madeline would see to that. But for now she would concentrate on Michael. "I've made arrangements for a new office in area 12," Madeline continued. "I've taken the liberty to decorate it for you, but you can change it if you like." "Thank you," Michael replied, then he offered a slight smile, which should have been a warning. "Who will be taking over my position?" he queried. Michael knew that the person chosen would take over his present office as well. Operations perched on the corner of the conference table, placing himself in front of Michael. "That hasn't been decided yet." Michael nodded. "Given my new position, I do believe I am allowed a say in the matter," he stated. "Yes, you are," Madeline confirmed, and in that moment she could guess what Michael was leading up to. "I would like to train Nikita for the position," Michael declared, and he didn't even blink as he spoke. He also ignored the gasps of surprise from Nikita and Walter. Michael's eyes were glued to Operations' face, and his superior's expression was priceless. Madeline was equally shocked, but she hid her reaction behind her cold smile. "Your old position is open only to class five operatives, Michael," Madeline reminded him. Michael gave Madeline the courtesy of facing her as he replied. "Yes, I know. But, technically, Nikita should already be a class three, which I intend to put into effect immediately." "That still makes her two levels below the position, Michael," Operations stated, his tone sharp. "For now," Michael replied. "But Nikita learns quickly, and I'm more than willing to take on the duties of both positions while I train her." Madeline could see that Operations was ready to explode, so she quickly intervened. "I think you might be taking on more than you can handle, Michael," Madeline stated. "Besides which, you'll be needed here... within Section. Not out on missions that put you at risk." Michael locked eyes with Madeline for a moment, then switched his attention to Operations. Eye to eye with the other man, Michael whispered, "Let's ask George what he thinks." In the silence that filled the room, you could have heard a feather drop. ************ Nikita still found it hard to believe, but she was beginning to accept it. She had to. Every day, for the past two weeks, she had been sitting in Michael's office, behind his desk, learning to do his job. Her office now, Nikita reminded herself. It felt like a dream. Nikita could relive the moment as if it had happened yesterday. Operations glaring at Michael after Michael had challenged him to ask George. To Nikita's surprise, Operations had given in. "Nikita." "Yes Michael?" The sound of his voice brought Nikita out of her reverie. Michael entered the office, coming to stand before the desk, his eyes roving over Nikita. She looked comfortable in his chair. Looked as if she belonged there. A part of Michael was pleased, yet another part of him felt sadness and regret. Nikita was changing. Becoming more like him every day. More accepting of the way things had to be. "Have you finished the tactical on the Kyber Mission?" Michael queried. It was a simple enough mission. Retrieve the kidnapped daughter of an Russian diplomat. Too simple, given the intel they had. That was when Michael worried most. The simplest things were most often the most complex. Nikita handed over her PDA. "It's all in there," she replied. "I think it's pretty good, if I do say so myself." "I'll study it and get back to you," Michael stated. "Did you coordinate the tactical for Murdock's team?" "Ummm..." Nikita had the grace to look sheepish. "Sorry... I was so wrapped up in the Kyber mission I forgot. Besides... I can't do two things at once, Michael." He slammed one hand down on the desk top, his eyes glacial. "Learn!" Michael hissed, his voice laced with anger. Nikita was stunned. The only other time she had ever heard that tone of voice from Michael was after her first, official, mission when Nikita had refused to kill a man. Michael had been forced to abort the mission, and he had confronted Nikita about it afterwards. She felt a spark of anger, but it quickly fizzled. Nikita realized something now that she hadn't then. Michael was angry because he was concerned. For her. He didn't want her to make mistakes that could put her life at risk. "I'm sorry," Nikita whispered. "It won't happen again." "Good," Michael replied. Then he turned and headed for the door. Once there he stopped and looked back at Nikita. "Would you like to have dinner tonight? My place." "Yes... I'd like that, Michael," Nikita acknowledged. "What time?" Michael let a slight smile curve his lips. "Let's try for eight." Nikita grinned back. She knew that something could, and probably would, come up that would interfere with their plans. But she would accept it as fate. "I'll do my best to be there," she allowed. "So will I," Michael whispered, then he was gone. ***** Michael had files to look over, but his thoughts were distracted. He was thinking about Nikita. They had missed dinner last night, since Michael had to stay in Section to oversee an emergency. But it had been a nice surprise to come home at four AM to find Nikita on his doorstep with pastries and coffee. The coffee had to be nuked, but Michael hadn't minded. The hour he had spent with Nikita had refreshed him more than eight hours of sleep ever would. The door buzzer shattered the silence, dragging Michael back to the present. "Enter," he called out, watching as the doors slid open. He was not surprised to see Madeline standing there. What did surprise Michael a little was the look on her face. Madeline's eyes blazed with anger. Anger that she made no attempt to control. "Yes?" Michael prompted, once Madeline was standing before his desk. "You changed my profile on the Walberg mission!" Madeline hissed, tossing a PDA on Michael 's desk. "You had no right to do that without asking my permission!" "I had every right," Michael countered, his tone and countenance exuding calm neutrality. "The right of my new position," he continued, when Madeline merely glared at him. "I don't have to clear things with you anymore." Madeline took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before replying. "Perhaps not," she allowed. "But you are still answerable to Operations." Michael nodded. "Yes. But he wasn't here, which left me with the authority to make the decision as I saw fit." "And just why did you see the need to change the profile, Michael?" Madeline challenged. She had to accept the fact that his way had been successful, but her profile would have worked more efficiently. "Your profile was unacceptable in regard to losses," Michael stated. "We're still low on Operatives after the War, and thanks to the Abeyance pool." Michael rose from his chair and came around the desk to confront Madeline, eye to eye. "My way made for zero losses with the same result." Madeline couldn't deny the truth of what Michael was saying, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging it. This was not the first time Michael had made changes, but never before had he dared to change her entire profile. And to do it so obviously. Madeline knew that Michael was testing her and her limits, and he had come dangerously close to finding them. She decided it was time to declare a truce. Otherwise he would have won the battle, if not the war. "In the future, I would appreciate it if you would discuss any changes you wish to make with me, before making them." Michael offered a smile. "If the circumstances allow it," he conceded. "If that's all, Madeline, I have to go. I have a mission." Michael was still involved in field work, and on this particular mission, Nikita would be team leader and Michael would grade her skills. It was a tactical mission and Nikita had done the profile and picked the team. She had chosen well. "That's all," Madeline stated, heading for the door. But she paused to ask the one question that was burning on her tongue. "Where was Operations last night?" The moment she asked it, Madeline regretted it. But it was too late to take it back. "He was out on business," Michael replied, as he returned to sit behind his desk so as to shut down his computer. "Is there anything else?" Michael knew that Madeline had been unaware of Operations' plans for last evening, and that she was not happy about it being out of the loop. Michael had done what he had for two reasons. Because his profile saved lives, and because of the confrontation that had just occurred. Dissention would now be in place between Madeline and Operations. Dissention and doubt. That was part of the plan. Divide and conquer. Madeline didn't respond to Michael's question verbally, she simply turned and glided out of the room. Once the door closed behind her, Michael relaxed back in his chair. He raised one hand and stared at it. He was trembling. Making a fist, Michael took a few deep breaths then pushed out of his chair. This was only the first step of a never ending journey. But Michael had hope that he could make things change. And his hope had a name. Nikita. ************ "Michael?" He started at the sound of his name and turned to see Birkoff eyeing him with concern. "Yes?" Michael responded, as he pulled his mask of neutrality back over his face. He had been lost in thoughts of Adam. Memories that made him want to weep. Birkoff cleared his throat, feeling a bit uncomfortable for it was obvious that this was not a good time. But he had no choice but to interrupt Michael. "Operations wants to see you, immediately." "Did he say why?" Michael countered, even as he turned away from the tactical console. "Not to me," Birkoff replied. "I think he's... upset." Michael could guess why. Last night's mission. Michael had been team leader, following Madeline's profile. He had been sent in as leader only because there had been no one else available. It was a high risk mission with losses expected to be about 85%. Most of the team had been made up of abeyance operatives. Michael had done the impossible. He had brought home all his team members except one and still completed the mission. With a slight change. He had brought in the mark alive. Madeline's profile had ordered Carlo Bellagio to be assassinated. She would be furious. And, no doubt, so would Operations. They always had a reason for the choices they made, and Michael had made other choices for them. "Thank you," he whispered to Birkoff, then he headed for the stairs. Operations was pacing when Michael entered his domain. His expression was cold as he turned to greet the other man. "I just read your report on the Bellagio mission," Operations began. "It went well," Michael stated, moving to stand before his superior and assuming a relaxed stance with his hands clasped in front of him. "Better than expected," Operations allowed, then a slight smile curved his lips. "Bringing Bellagio in was the right choice, Michael," he declared, approvingly. "I interrogated him myself and he had many interesting stories to tell." Michael nodded in acknowledgement of the approval. It was more or less a first coming from Operations. "I'm glad," he said softly. Operations let his smile widen, yet there was tension in the lines of his face. "Madeline has been keeping secrets from me," he blurted out, pausing only to study Michael's face and was pleased to see a smidgen of shock registering on the exotically beautiful face, before Michael clamped down on his mask. "That's right," Operations continued. "She wanted Bellagio dead for personal reasons." There was a CD on the desk and Operations picked it up and held it out to Michael. "This is a recording of the talk I had with Bellagio. Listen to it." "Why?" Michael countered, even as he accepted the disc. "I want you to learn Madeline's secrets," Operations replied. His smile faded. "I want to know what she has to hide. And this is between you and me only, Michael. Understood?" Michael tucked the disc in his jacket pocket then nodded. "Understood. Is that all?" Operations considered, then made a gesture of dismissal with one hand. "That's all," he announced, turning away to reach for the phone. There was always business to attend to. Without responding, Michael turned and left the office. And as he descended the stairway a smile curved his lips. Things were going better than he had hoped. Michael knew that everyone had their secrets, but that Operations now had proof that Madeline was hiding things from him was the frosting on the cake. It was time to move into the next phase. Time to clean house. ***** Nikita was waiting for Michael in his office. When he entered the room she was surprised to see a smile curve his sensual lips. A *cat that ate the canary* smile. "What's up?" she challenged. Michael's smile didn't fade as he glided over to Nikita. Rather it widened as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Stunned by his actions, Nikita was paralyzed for a moment, but then she embraced Michael back and kissed him till they were both breathless. "What was that for?" Nikita queried, after Michael set her from him and moved to sit behind his desk. "Because I wanted to," Michael countered, breezily, but then his expression changed. The mask was back in place. It would not be wise to give Nikita hope that might prove to be false. He would not show his cards to her yet. Ignorance was bliss for the time being. "Did you want something?" Michael inquired, as he turned on his computer. He was anxious to listen to the CD. "Um... I wanted to see if you would like to go to a movie tonight," Nikita replied. Her mouth still tingled from Michael's kiss and she felt an ember of desire spark into flame. It had been too long since they had last made love. Michael bit his lip. He wanted to spend time with Nikita, but now was not the time. Yet he didn't want to push her away. "I can't make a movie," Michael announced. "But I might be able to come by later. Around midnight... if it's not too late." Nikita smiled. "No... that would be great," she assured him. "I'll let you get back to work." With that Nikita sauntered out the door. "Thank you, Nikita," Michael whispered, then he popped the CD into it's proper slot and reached for the head phones. If all went as planned, sometime in the not too distant future, he and Nikita would have a future. And a life worth living. Even if it was a life in the shadows. ************ Michael rubbed his eyes. They burned with exhaustion, but he ignored it for the most part. The forty-eight hours he had been up had been worth every minute. As per Operations' orders, Michael had studied the Bellagio CD and he had gleaned some very interesting facts. Facts that he proceeded to study and learn from, and then he had gone a step farther. After making some phone calls and doing some checking via his connections and the internet, Michael had what he wanted. The goods on Madeline. By rights he should give the information to Operations, but Michael wasn't interested in what he should do anymore. He wanted to build a future for himself and Nikita, and to that end he would have to think, and plan, carefully. Michael would tell Operations some of what he needed to know, but as for the rest... that he would keep for himself. Pushing out of his chair, Michael shut down his computer and tucked two CD's in his pocket. He had erased all evidence of his sleuthing, and all the information he had gathered was in a safe place. Or, rather, places. So now it was time for a confrontation. To that end, Michael left his office and made his way down the corridor to Madeline's domain. "Come in," Madeline called out, when the signal for her door went off. Michael obeyed, gliding into the room, his face a perfect mask. "Do you have a moment to talk?" Michael queried, as he came to stand before Madeline's desk. She looked up at him in surprise. Michael was not one to want to talk about anything. "Of course," Madeline responded, gesturing to an empty chair. "Sit down." "I'll stand," Michael whispered. He held out one of the CD's. "What's this?" Madeline countered, even as she accepted it. Michael blinked. "Take a look," he directed. Madeline did so and it took only a moment for her face to grow pale. But she retained her composure as she turned to confront Michael. "Have you shown this to Operations?" Madeline queried, then she answered her own question before Michael could. "Of course not." Madeline knew that she and Michael would not be having this conversation had he done so. "Whether or not I show this to Operations is up to you, Madeline," Michael stated, his tone deceptively soft. "Why?" Madeline challenged. "Why not just do it and be done with it, Michael?" He smiled, a slight curving of his mouth. "You're of no use to me dead," Michael declared, entirely without emotion. Madeline smiled in reply. "And what purpose do I serve alive?" she inquired, with abject curiosity. "I don't trust you," Michael confessed. Not that Madeline hadn't already known that fact. "All the more reason to reveal your findings to Operations," Madeline declared, her tone silky but lined with cold steel. Michael nodded, conceding the truth of what she said. But he had other plans. "You've heard the old adage... keep your friends close and your enemies closer." Madeline leaned back in her chair, her eyes doing a slow perusal of Michael. He betrayed nothing by expression or body language. A part of her commended him on his performance and he cool. "A dead enemy is even less of a threat, Michael," Madeline reprimanded him. "I need you to watch my back," Michael countered. "How do you know I won't betray you?" Madeline challenged. She was finding the exchange between them rather intriguing, yet she was not blind to the seriousness of her situation. But she would not let Michael see her fear. Michael shrugged. "If I die, you die soon after." He pointed to the CD Madeline had removed from her computer. "A copy of that disc will reach Operations within twenty-four hours of my demise." Rising from her chair, Madeline glided around her desk to confront Michael. "What makes you so sure Operations will cancel me?" she taunted. "He no longer trusts you," Michael replied. He had seen to that. "And given the evidence on the disc, he'll reach the only logical conclusion. That you have betrayed him. He won't let you live." "It wasn't, necessarily, a betrayal," Madeline offered in self defense. Michael let a genuine smile curve his lips. "You were sleeping with the enemy, Madeline," he whispered. It took a monumental effort on Madeline's part not to let the frustration and fear that she was feeling show. "I may have betrayed Section," she allowed. "But not Operations." It was a lame argument and they both knew it, but Madeline felt the need to state it. "Operations is Section," Michael declared. "But enough debate. The outcome is inevitable, Madeline, if Operations learns the truth." "And if he doesn't?" Madeline prompted. "He's going to want something from you, Michael." It was obvious to her now that Operations had asked Michael to dig up her secrets. "What are you going to tell him?" Michael's response was to hand over the second CD. "I've created a history of secrets for you," he stated. "Memorize them. If you agree to my deal, then I'll deliver them to Operations by the end of the day." Madeline knew that Michael was not really giving her a choice. If she didn't agree to his terms, she would die. After an idle glance at the contents of the CD, Madeline nodded approval. "You blended in the truth with the lies. Very good, Michael." "Thank you," he whispered, then he locked eyes with Madeline. His former teacher and eternal enemy. "Do we have a deal?" Michael queried. "We do," Madeline conceded. There was nothing else to be said, or done. Michael turned to go but stopped at the door. "This isn't personal," he called over his shoulder. "But you did create me, Madeline." It wasn't an excuse for his behavior but a simple statement of fact. Madeline smiled to herself. "Yes.. .I did," she confirmed. "And I have to say... I'm rather proud of my work." Madeline returned to her work then, glancing up only when the door had closed behind Michael. It was then that she let her fear show, glowing in the darkness of her eyes. ************ Operations stared at the CD in his hand. Madeline's secrets. Michael had delivered them to him as promised. Of course there would be more secrets, but what he held was enough to damn Madeline to hell. But, then, they were already there. The secrets made Operations uncomfortable and angry, but he could live with them. The pain was made bearable by the fact that he could now hold them over her head. It meant that, in an ironic sense, he could trust her better. "You wanted to see me?" At the sound of Madeline's voice, Operations turned to the doorway. "Yes, come in," he invited, forcing a smile. Once Madeline had entered he moved to perch on the corner of his desk and held up the disc. "Do you know what this is?" he asked, his pale eyes gleaming. Madeline smiled. "A trick question?" she countered, her tone and demeanor totally calm. "You'll tell me in your own good time," Madeline decreed. "The time is now," Operations stated. "This contains information about your... extracurricular activities, Madeline." He watched the smile fade from her face and saw her features sharpen as understanding dawned. "And what do you know?" Madeline challenged, playing her part perfectly. Michael had made it impossible for her to do otherwise. Madeline had worked too hard to obtain her position. She would not give it up, nor walk away. Besides which, there was no option to leave. There was only death, and Madeline was not ready to die. She did not fear it, she simply wanted more time. Operations tapped the CD against his chin. "I know more than I wanted to," he allowed. "Why, Madeline?" he prompted. "Why Debarge? I could consider it an act of treason against Section." Madeline sighed. "Against Section... or against you?" she taunted, and she almost smiled when Operations' eyes flashed at her. Bullseye. "Is Debarge a threat to Section?" Operations snapped, although he really did wonder if the man was a threat to him personally. Not that he and Madeline had a relationship at this point. But there was always the future. "Debarge is unaware of my connection to Section One," Madeline stated simply. Operations was desperate to believe her. Debarge was high up in the Hierarchy of the Legion. "Why?" Operations prompted. "Explain to me... why, Madeline." She didn't respond for a long moment. Madeline knew she would have to tread lightly. Would have to blend the truth with the lie. And she would have to distract Operations. But that was easily done. "I didn't know who he was when we first met," Madeline stated, the lie coming easily. "But once I realized his connection to Legion, it seemed a good way to keep track of them. He's one of my sources." "Anything else?" Operations challenged. "We've been lovers," Madeline replied. Part of the lie, and the distraction. She knew how deep Operations' feelings were for her. That he would risk everything for her. Had nearly let Michael die to save her, and that was a mistake none of them could afford. It was also a flaw, a weakness, in Operations' character that Madeline found unsettling. Operations hissed in anger and pain. "So... you've been sleeping with the enemy," he drawled. Madeline reserved comment on that particular statement. "I'm expecting a call on the Florence mission. Is that all?" "That's all," Operations conceded, waving one hand in dismissal. The moment Madeline was gone he hit a button on the desk panel. "Birkoff, find Michael and send him to me ASAP!" Operations barked. Then he rose to his feet and began to pace. ***** Michael hung up the phone. Madeline had briefed him on her encounter with Operations and he was satisfied. His plan was moving into the next phase. It wouldn't take much to blow Operations' trust in Madeline completely. To set the two at odds against each other. And in that moment, the infrastructure of Section One would begin to crumble. And that is when Michael would make his move. He would step in and take over, and he and Nikita would rebuild Section. One season at a time. ************ "It's begun." Nikita stared at Michael through sleep-blurred eyes. She was clinging to the front door for support since her body didn't seem to want to accept the fact that she was no longer stretched out in the comfort of her bed, but rather confronting Michael at 4 o'clock in the morning. Especially since it had been after 2 AM when she had returned from her latest mission. Birkoff had told Nikita to go straight home, that she would be debriefed at a later date. That had been unusual, but Nikita had been too tired to care at the time. Now a part of her wondered if it had anything to do with why Michael was here. "What's begun?" Nikita shot back, as she gestured for Michael to enter the apartment. He glided inside, but didn't respond until Nikita had closed the door behind him. For a moment Michael closed his eyes, letting weariness wash over him, but he could feel Nikita watching him and he knew that the time had come for them to face what their future might be. To face each other and fate. "Change has begun, Nikita," Michael whispered. "Our time is coming." "I haven't a clue as to what the hell you're talking about, Michael," Nikita confessed. She scuffled over to the fridge and pulled out a carton of milk. "Want some?" Nikita offered. When Michael refused she opened one end and guzzled. Caffeine would have helped more but Nikita was in no mood for coffee or soda, so she settled for a chocolate bar as she perched on the counter. Since her eyes were clearer, Nikita took a moment to study Michael. "You look like hell," She observed. In was a somewhat untruthful statement, for Michael looked as gorgeous and sexy as usual, but he was pale and his eyes were bloodshot. "A lot has been... happening... since you were gone," Michael replied. He moved to stand directly in front of Nikita, but about three feet away. He needed the distance between them. Yet, at the same time, he needed to be focused on her. "There are things that I have to tell you," Michael confessed. Nikita was more than a little surprised by Michael's words. And even more so by the look in his eyes. He was dropping his defenses. The shields were coming down, one by one. Michael's eyes were no longer blank, but filled with... emotion. "What's going on?" Nikita queried, sliding off the counter and chucking the candy bar aside. "What do you have to tell me, Michael?" He watched her approach him and fought not to raise his defenses. But it was going to be hard. Michael had shielded himself for so long. But now was the moment of truth, for them both. "Section is going to change," Michael began, his eyes locked on Nikita's face. He saw he expression change from curious to confused. "Operations has, unknowingly, set things in motion." "Things?" Nikita echoed. Then she smiled. "And you gave him a push... I suppose?" "Perhaps," Michael allowed, and a tentative smile curved his lips. "Listen," he beseeched, and then he told his story. ***** Nikita listened to Michael talk for almost an hour. By the end of his tale she knew that he had told her almost everything. And she could accept that. There were things that Nikita would prefer not to know. Choices that Michael would have made that they would never agree upon. So be it. All that really mattered to her at this moment was the trust that Michael was generating. He was trusting her with his heart... and his soul. And he was trusting that Nikita would not betray him. She sensed that it was the betrayal to his heart that might worry Michael the most, not that Nikita could betray him to Section. One thing she had learned in the past five years in regards to Michael, was that he was not afraid of what Section might do to him. The worst case scenario would be death, and that was something Michael had accepted many years ago. "So... how soon before you know something?" Nikita queried. Michael shrugged. "I'm not sure... should be soon," he allowed. He closed his eyes again and let himself relax against the cushions of the chair that Nikita had pushed him into a half hour ago. Exhaustion washed over Michael, more emotional than physical. The story he had told Nikita was difficult to tell on many levels, but Michael was glad it was done. He had made the right choice. By the look in Nikita's eyes, Michael knew she would accept the changes. She would be his partner for whatever the future would bring. "I still can't believe that Operations fell for your manipulations," Nikita commented with a grin. She didn't understand it, but she liked it. Operations deserved whatever happened. And he would be hoisted by his own petard. A small measure of justice, to Nikita's thinking. She let herself think back over what Michael had told her, concentrating on the past forty-eight hours. Once Michael had explained how he had set Operations and Madeline against each other, and how he had drawn Madeline into a *Partnership of enemies*, Nikita could see how the rest of the story would unfold, but Operations' paranoia surprised her. That he would fall from grace out of jealousy for Madeline. Nikita supposed that Operations would view it as *out of love*, but Nikita doubted he would recognize love anymore. Not even love of his son. Michael opened his eyes at Nikita's last comment. He could easily believe it, for it was his feelings for Nikita that were his weakness. The same could be said for Operations in regards to Madeline. That was why it had been so easily for Michael to manipulate the older man. Because he understood what Operations was feeling. Michael had fought the battle, but control had been hard won. And it was a battle that still raged inside him. "He couldn't trust her anymore," Michael whispered. "That ate away at him." Nikita bit her lip as she studied Michael, for she sensed that he was revealing more of himself to her. "You speak as if from experience," she drawled. "You have reason to betray me, Nikita," Michael replied. "But I know that you would not. Operations doesn't know that about Madeline." "I think she would betray him," Nikita stated. Madeline was a cold fish. Michael shook his head. "Not... intentionally," he countered in Madeline's defense. "But that doesn't matter now. Operations followed Madeline and caught her with Debarge." Nikita grinned and interjected. "Oh yeah... talk about sleeping with the enemy. I'm surprised that Madeline would be so foolish." "She was protecting her own interests," Michael protested. It was something he could totally relate to. In fact, he had learned that particular lesson from Madeline. "When Operations asked me to bring in Debarge, that was the moment that everything changed. Madeline knew she was trapped and she did what she had to do." "She called George," Nikita stated, a smile of satisfaction curving her lips. Michael nodded. "Yes. He wants to talk to me in the morning. In the mean time, both Operations and Madeline have been placed in isolation." Nikita frowned. "What about Section... who's going to run it?" "I have to go back," Michael replied, rising from the chair and heading for the front door. "I'll call you," he promised, then he was gone. "Later," Nikita whispered, as she curled up on the couch and closed her eyes. She wasn't even upset that Michael had breezed in and breezed out. For once, she trusted her fate in his hands. ************ Nikita smiled at Walter as she passed by his station. "Michael in his office?" she asked. Walter nodded, not even glancing up from the circuit board he was working on. "He's waiting for you." "Later," Nikita drawled as she continued on her way. She headed for the Ivory Tower. As Michael had predicted six months ago, Section had changed. Although Michael was young, George had placed him in charge, taking Operations' position. Nikita was doing Michael's old job, and Madeline still retained her place. That had been the biggest surprise to Nikita, for it had come at Michael's request. A part of her accepted his reasoning, that it was best to keep the enemy where you could see them. But another part of her would have preferred Madeline to be thousands of miles away. "How did it go in Libya?" Michael asked, as Nikita entered his domain?" Nikita grinned. "It went well, thanks to the changes you allowed me to make to Madeline's profile." Michael nodded. "Good." Birkoff buzzed him and he responded, then turned his attention back to Nikita, absorbing her beauty and letting it refresh his soul. "Dinner tonight at the Tower?" Michael asked. "Don't be late," Nikita tossed back over her shoulder as she headed out. They both had work to do. Changing Section wasn't going to be easy, but she and Michael were finding the way. Season by season, side by side. The End BACK TO AUTHOR'S S-T LFN STORYBOARD ARCHIVES MAIN PAGE LFN LINKS PAGE Send suggestions or comments to Shelly