This is a sequel to FULL CIRCLE, my version of Michael and Nikita's earliest days together. As always, no copyright infringement of LFN intended.

(NC-17 – you've been warned!)

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"Wise Up" Lyrics by Aimee Mann

It's not what you thought when you first began it
you got what you want now you can hardly stand it
though by now you know it's not going to stop
it's not going to stop
it's not going to stop…'til you wise up

"Nothing like a little mood music," she mused. She should be ecstatic. Michael had, in the only way he knew how, told her he loved her. Maybe not in those exact words, but Nikita knew it was as much as he could give her right now.

The words haunted her soul. This is the story of my life. She traced her index finger around the rim of her coffee mug as her eyes, still full of sleep, wandered lazily to the kitchen where only days before she and Michael had staked their claim to one another.

What do you do with a man who makes you forget to breath. Closing her eyes she massaged her temples with tightly closed fists in a futile attempt to exorcise him from her mind. She remembered with the part of her that loved him. She remembered with the part of her that was curious about him. She remembered with the part of her that was scared beyond reason and last, she remembered with that very intimate part of her that wanted him in that most raw and sensual of ways, the way that would make the others obsolete.

Prepare a list of what you need
before you sign away the deed
'cause it's not going to stop
no it's not going to stop
…so just give up

"Geez, enough already!" She flew off the couch and leapt to the stereo, clicking off the music with a flick of her wrist. "This is hitting a little too close to home for me right now."

It had been 93 hours, 22 minutes and 11 seconds, give or take a couple, since she had pulled Michael to her and kissed him, unleashing their passion. Carla had stopped by the next morning to get all the juicy details of what happened after Michael and Nikita made their escape from Venue. Nikita, as usual, was not very forthcoming.

"I don't get you, girl," Carla commented, obviously annoyed. "I come over here to get the lowdown on you and this Michael and I get nothing. What's wrong with this picture, Nikita?"

"There's nothing to tell, really," Nikita replied trying to avoid Carla's stare. "He brought me home. We talked. He left. End of story."

"God, you are a such a liar," Carla laughed, throwing up her hands in mock surrender. "All right, I won't pester you anymore. But I still don't know where you've been hiding this guy. He must live under a rock or something."

Nikita couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, something like that." Her account of the events of that night were just going to have to satisfy Carla for the time being. Maybe someday she'd be able to tell her what really happened with Michael.

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

The ring of her cell phone echoed off the walls, shattering the silence. It couldn't be Michael; his team wasn't due back from the Balkans until much later in the day.

"Josephine?"

"Birkoff? What's up?" Nikita mumbled, her mouth full of cinnamon toast. Why are you contacting me?"

"Get in here a.s.a.p. We're going to close quarters until Michael's team returns. They've been compromised."

Nikita sat up like a shot, her heart pounding. "Is Michael all right?! So help me, Birkoff, if you're keeping anything from me I'll kill you myself."

"That's all I know. Just get in here."

Dropping the phone, Nikita sprinted to her bedroom. With frenzied hands she rooted through her closet. She pulled on a pair of black leggings and an orange tank top as she piled her hair into a loose ponytail atop her head. She knew she looked like hell as she caught a glimpse of herself as she blurred past the full length mirror, but it hardly mattered. Suddenly Michael was everything.

"He's got to be all right. God, don't take him from me, not now," she cursed under her breath. This was Section's fault. It always was.

Birkoff swung his chair around to face Madeline. "Okay, she's on her way. Anything else you need from me?"

"That will be all for now. Have the mission intel updated as soon as you have it." Madeline touched Birkoff's arm as she turned to leave. "It's for her own good."

This was cold, even for Madeline. Birkoff couldn't believe this was the same woman who only days earlier was laughing and joking at his birthday party. He lowered his head, ashamed that he had become such a puppet for her. He hadn't lied to Nikita about the status of the mission, not exactly. He just had the misfortune of being involved in another of Section's "tests" and this time Nikita was the guinea pig. Madeline was tempting Nikita with the only bait she knew would reel her in. Michael.

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

Nikita's ponytail swayed to and fro with every stride as the rubber soles of her cross trainers squeaked loudly through the Section hallways, announcing her approach around every corner. Out of breath, she bounded into Birkoff's station, her eyes pleading with him for answers.

"So? What's the mission status," she panted. "Any change?" Nikita's eyes roamed over Birkoff's face searching for a reaction.

"You'll find out soon enough," he said glancing up at Operations' aerie. Nikita's eyes followed his as she spotted Operations and Madeline talking before the large glass window overlooking their domain. "Nikita? Thanks for coming to celebrate my birthday the other night. It meant a lot that you were there." Birkoff's voice was almost apologetic.

"Yeah, uh, no problem," Nikita replied obviously distracted. Realizing her rudeness, she looked at Birkoff and smiled sweetly. "We better get upstairs."

"I'll be along in a second. Just updating some PDA's." He hated the things Section made him do, especially when it came to deceiving Nikita. He hoped she wouldn't hate him too much for it.

Nikita approached the door to the briefing room, remembering what Michael had told her in the earliest days of her training. "Show no fear." She could see him in her mind's eye, his words calming her. She'd never been in the briefing room without him. Determined to make him proud she took a deep breath and stepped through the doorway.

You're late, Nikita," Operations bellowed.

"I came as fast as I could," Nikita snapped, taking a seat at the table. "I thought Birkoff was included in this briefing. What's going on?"

"Birkoff won't be joining us this time." Placing both hands on the table next to Nikita, he leaned down, his face inches from hers. "We had him call you in and mention Michael's compromised status, to test your reaction. You failed."

The nearness of him made Nikita's skin crawl. She didn't have many dealings with him, thanks in part to Michael constantly running interference for her. His steely eyes seemed cold and empty as he regarded her with obvious displeasure.

"So Birkoff lied. Michael's team isn't in jeopardy," Nikita replied, a hint of anger in her voice.

"Don't be angry with Birkoff, Nikita," Madeline said, placing her hand on Nikita's shoulder. "He was only following orders. We wanted to see how you would react. Just think of it as a test."

"Oh, I get it." Nikita could feel her jaw tightening. "You dangled the possibility of Michael being in danger in front of me to see what would happen. Well, now you know!"

"You disappoint me, Nikita," Operations shot back, clearly irritated. "You've been here long enough to know that externalizing of emotions by operatives is unacceptable. Perhaps I should examine the possibility of having you reassigned to another trainer. Michael's obviously not getting the job done in this area."

Nikita ignored him. She cocked her head and turned her attention towards Madeline. "You still haven't answered my question. Is Michael all right?"

"He's fine," Madeline assured her. "His team is due back this afternoon when he'll be subjected to debriefing, as usual. You know the drill."

"I suggest you put some emotional distance between yourself and Michael, Nikita," Operations warned. "You're on close quarters standby until further notice." He rose to open the door, motioning her to leave.

Nikita pushed herself back from the table. "I'll do my best. Anything for Section," she sneered, choking on the words. She flashed a defiant glance at Operations as she passed through the door.

"She's not like the others," Madeline noted as she watched Nikita disappear down the hallway. "She's not afraid of you."

"That will change. In time she'll become one of us," Operations added confidently. "Michael will see to that."

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

Despite the bright sunshine, the Balkan air was deceptively raw, chilling Michael to the bone. The wind wreaked havoc with his hair, forcing him yet again to brush it from his eyes. Rubbing his hands together for warmth, he and the other members of the team waited on the tarmac to board the transport that would take them home.

The mission was a success, the eradication of the Red Cell safe house had gone off without a hitch. The knowledge that his team had suffered no losses did little to console Michael. He was, by now, so completely programmed to do Section's bidding that the killing came too easily, once again leaving that familiar dull ache in his stomach. He signaled his team to finish loading their equipment on board. Hoping to grab some uninterrupted sleep on the flight back, he switched on his com set to contact Birkoff one last time before departing.

"Birkoff? "You read me?"

"Right here, Michael. Status?"

"The mission is complete. The communications center has been destroyed and the area's been cleaned. "We're headed back in."

"And your team?"

"No losses. I'll update initial intel and download on my way back." He paused for a moment. "How's Nikita?"

"A word of warning. Operations and Madeline ambushed her this morning; told her you were compromised. They baited her to see how she would respond. She's been confined to quarters. You can probably guess the rest."

Michael was stunned. "I'll handle it when I return." He removed his com set and stuffed it into the pocket of his topcoat. "I should have expected it." Michael cursed aloud. He thought back to the moment when, days earlier, he had assured Nikita that Madeline wouldn't sell them out, wouldn't expose their feelings for one another. Madeline knew there was something between them, Michael had admitted it to her that evening at Venue. No, he was convinced that this was Operations' doing and that Madeline was simply a player.

The rising hum of the transport's engines sent him running on board. Fighting off sleep, he stashed his gear and quickly sent Birkoff the last of the mission intel. Eager for some much needed down time, he stretched out on his back, his hands behind his head. Closing his eyes his thoughts drifted immediately to Nikita. She had become the one ray of hope in the black hole known as his life. Wherever she was, he wanted to be. Like a lighthouse, Nikita was guiding him home.

For Michael, the time between mission completion and having to return to Section was a self-imposed purgatory. Behind him was always mayhem and destruction. Before him, a new realization that the Section had somehow become a makeshift heaven, made possible only because Nikita was now a part of it. He was stretching the truth, he knew, but somehow a life with Nikita in it had a way of skewing his outlook on things. Suddenly the glass was half full instead of half empty. He would fight harder, shoot straighter. Every instinct he had ever used to keep himself alive would be forever heightened. Only once before in his life, when Simone was alive, had he felt anything like this overwhelming feeling of self-preservation. He wanted to stay alive, to live for Nikita.

Rubbing his eyes, he let out a yawn, giving his body permission to succumb to much needed sleep. Only with Nikita's smile in his mind's eye could he yield to the peace that his dreams would bring.

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

With a hand on her hip, Nikita crept down the corridor, the fingers of her outstretched hand tracing a line along the cold concrete wall. Smiling as she leaned back against the corner, she shuddered at the sudden chill in the air, not sure if it was real or brought on by the memory of being in this place. Unlike the first time, she remembered the surveillance camera that hung ominously overhead. She glanced up and winked at it, a gesture meant for Madeline and Operations' eyes, whom she was sure were watching her every move.

Everything there was the same as when Michael had kissed her. The same stillness, only this time there was no popping of bubble gum to echo off the walls. Closing her eyes, she remembered the feel of his mouth on hers. She remembered how her lips had hardened in protest, then softened in surrender as he pressed ever closer. In real time, it had happened in a split-second, his tongue reaching deep inside her mouth to retrieve the gum. But now she replayed it in slow motion, savoring the memory of his closeness.

She pushed herself away from the wall, keying in the code to the large metal door that would lead her to the weapons room. Her eyes darted over the familiar faces, finally settling on Walter. Jamming her hands into her pockets, she sauntered over to his work station, taking a seat on the table in front of him.

"Hey, Walter," she said somberly. "What's up?"

"I already know what's doin' with you, Sugar," Walter acknowledged, looking up from his work. "Birkoff gave me all the sordid details."

"They called it a test," Nikita replied, gazing off into space. "I flunked."

Walter laughed quietly. "Kid, this place is one big test. You went up against Operations and you don't look any worse for the wear. Just keep your nose clean and don't let him get to you."

Nikita turned and smiled faintly. "Funny. That's what Michael said."

"Michael." Walter shook his head. "He's the reason you're on close quarters. Just watch him, Nikita," his voice turned cautionary. "I've seen him play with people's heads…but I think my warning might be too late. From the looks of things the other night, you two are locked on to each other."

Nikita's mouth quirked into the briefest of smiles. "That obvious?" She walked to the window, pressing her nose against the glass. "When I was up there with Operations and Madeline, I didn't give a damn about anything but Michael. We're good for each other, Walter. Why can't they see that?" She turned her head, her eyes looking hard at him, hoping for some understanding.

Walter rose, joining her at the window. "I've seen Operations destroy too many people's lives, Nikita. Any kind of a future you might have with Michael will be on his terms. Like what he did to you today. To him, it's all a game. And he always wins."

Nikita felt her eyes misting over with tears. "I don't know if I can play that game. Not even for Michael."

"Just do what they ask, Sugar. It will buy you and Michael some time. Hey, how about joining me for some target practice? Got a new snub nose .357 with your name on it. Might help you work off some of that sexual tension."

Walter always had a knack for knowing just the right thing to say to lift her spirits. "You really know how to treat a girl, Walter. Give her a gun and she'll do anything."

"From your lips to God's ears, Sugar. How about it?"

"Can I take a rain check," she said quietly. "I think I just need to be alone. But thanks." She flashed him a sad smile as she headed down the hall.

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

Walter looked up in time to see him coming through the doorway. "When did you get in?"

"About 15 minutes ago." Michael appeared tired and ragged, his voice hoarse from the Balkan cold. "We're still unloading the van. Is Nikita with you?"

"No. I think she's getting in a workout." Walter paused, choosing his words carefully. "She's had a rough day, Michael."

"I appreciate your concern," Michael replied, as he turned to leave. Walter grabbed him roughly by the arm.

"I couldn't care less if you appreciate it or not. I'm only concerned about Nikita. Let's be clear about that."

Michael stared at him, his face devoid of emotion. He brushed by Walter, ignoring the sneer of the older man. Michael liked Walter well enough and was grateful that he felt protective of Nikita but right now he had only one thing on his mind. He made his way through the myriad of corridors and stairwells, his stride lengthening as he drew closer to the exercise area. Upon arriving there, he found it surprisingly empty. There was only Nikita, alone in the dimly lit room, slowly and pensively going through the paces of a tai chi exercise.

She moved like a dancer, her supple body casting a sensual shadow upon the wall. Bending and twisting in a series of synchronized movements, she was clearly one with her thoughts, the only sound being that of her bare feet squeaking across the hardwood floor. Michael quietly pushed open the door and stood with his back against the wall, arms folded across his chest, his eyes trained on her every move. Not wanting to disturb her, he watched, filing away in his mind yet another mental image of her.

Nikita stopped cold in the center of the room, her arms straight out at her sides. Senses heightened, she felt an intruder watching her. Switching into operative mode, she spun around on her heels, her body immediately taking on a defensive stance. But it was suddenly all too familiar…the pace of his step, the faint smell of musk in the air. She would know him anywhere.

"Michael?"

"Hi." He emerged from the shadows, the pale glow from a single light illuminating his face.

His voice was that of a siren's song. She ran to him and leapt into the circle of his arms and he held her tightly to him, burrowing his face in her hair. Coiling her arms around his neck, she bathed in his warm embrace. They leaned apart to catch their breath and look at one another. "You weren't due back for another two hours. What are you doing here?"

"Nikita, you have such a command of the obvious." He reached out, taking her hand in his. "I needed to know that you were all right. Birkoff told me what happened. And Walter practically threatened me if I didn't go easy on you."

Nikita smiled slyly. She pressed her body close to him, her arms sliding back around his neck. "I hope you don't go too easily on me," she purred.

Oh, the possibilities. Michael was starving for her, his longing so powerful it felt almost like a sickness. He wanted desperately to kiss her, to trace his fingers over every inch of her body. Shaking his head, he removed her arms from around his neck.

"What did we discuss the other night?," he asked, his voice turning serious. "No emotions, no overt displays of affection in Section. Remember?" Michael stared at her, his eyes never leaving hers until she acknowledged the seriousness of the situation.

Nikita felt as though she'd had her hand slapped. "Yes." Her eyes swept over the empty room. "But there aren't any cameras here. We're alone." She looked at him doe-eyed as she walked her fingers up the length of his arms. "When can we see each other? Surely you can think of something."

"Soon," Michael replied, his hand sweeping a stray strand of hair from Nikita's face. "First, I have to debrief and then I have to get you released from close quarters." Michael glanced down at his watch. "Meet me in the plaza in two hours." He grazed his hand softly across Nikita's cheek.

"And you're sure Operations will release me?"

"Yes," Michael assured her. "I have to go."

"All right," Nikita replied. She watched as Michael started to leave. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too," he answered as he kept walking. If only she knew how much.

***********

Michael restlessly paced the length of Operations' office awaiting his return. This confrontation would be yet another battle of wills between them. Michael was determined to stand his ground, to get Nikita released from close quarters. His being able to see her, if only for a short time, took precedence over everything else. Nothing was going to jeopardize that, not even Operations.

"Michael, I've been expecting you." Operations strode past Michael and stood before the large window. "Is your debrief complete?"

"Yes. Everything went as planned, no deviation from the profile. Birkoff and Madeline have all of my intel." Michael stepped closer to Operations, needing to invade his personal space to drive home his next point. "There's no need for Nikita to remain on close quarters."

Operations glared at him. "I agree. But hear me out, Michael. I'm only going to say this once," he warned. "We assigned Nikita to you because we knew that under your direction she could become a superb operative. We also felt that because of your past experience with Simone, the chances of your becoming emotionally involved with Nikita would be minimal. You're a smart man. I'm betting you won't make the same mistake twice."

The mention of Simone's name tore at Michael. He had loved her fiercely, her death almost destroying him. Now, the thought of reopening old feelings, of loving and possibly losing Nikita the same way he had Simone, terrified him.

"Make Nikita understand the severity of the situation." Operations patted him lightly on the back. "I trust you'll do whatever it takes."

Michael felt sick to his stomach. "Yes," he replied, averting his eyes from Operations' penetrating stare.

"Is Nikita released?"

"Yes. But be clear that you both will be closely monitored. Any deviation from a strictly business-like relationship unless sanctioned by me, and you both will be subject to cancellation. No exceptions. You're free to go." Operations paused. "Oh, and Michael. Well done."

Michael's throat was as tight as dried leather. Thunderstruck, he brushed past Operations, pulling the door shut behind him. He had succeeded in getting Nikita removed from close quarters, but Operations had clearly won this round. Ahead loomed the daunting task of keeping Nikita at arms length. Suddenly he found himself doubting that he could fight his growing need to be with her. He knew Nikita would be the one demon he could not conquer.

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

The cool evening breeze swirled the fallen leaves through the plaza. Pulling her jacket tightly around her, Nikita made her way past the fountain, the wind whistling an ominous tune in her ears. Despite the large number of people out at such a late hour, Nikita felt very alone. The fact that Michael had requested that they meet in such a public place was not a good sign. Her instincts told her that this evening would not be what she had hoped.

"Nikita." Michael called out, falling in step beside her. "I brought you some coffee."

"Thanks." She wrapped her hands around the cup, its warmth helping to dull the chill she felt. Bringing it to her lips, she took a sip. "A little heavy on the cream, but I'll forgive you this time."

His face gave no indication of what was to follow. "Come. Let's sit down. We need to talk." Taking her by the hand, he made his way through the crowd to a spot on the lawn. He sat down, patting the ground next to him.

Nikita eyed him warily before joining him. "So, what are we going to talk about, Michael?" She turned her face to him. "Operations told you to stay away from me, to keep our relationship strictly business. Stop me if I'm getting warm."

Michael avoided Nikita's glare, his eyes still surveying the crowd. "We're under suspicion, both of us. If we don't do as they ask, they'll separate us. Or worse."

"I'm not even allowed to be your friend, is that it?" She lay back on the cool grass, knees bent, her hands clasped across her belly. "This whole discussion is pointless anyway." She reached up to run her hand down Michael's back. "I don't think I could be just friends. I passed that point the other night."

Michael felt his temperature slowly begin to climb. She could do that to him. Burn him up with a look or a touch.

"There are a lot of things that you don't know about me, Nikita. I keep things hidden to protect myself, to protect you." He reached down to stroke her cheek. "You may not understand it now, but there is a reason for everything that I do."

Nikita turned her head and gently kissed each one of his fingers. "I'm not afraid of you, Michael." Grabbing the lapels of his jacket, she hoisted herself up from the ground. She sat down in his lap, her legs straddling his waist, her fingers lazily combing through his hair.

Michael's eyes roamed over her face. Slipping his arms around her, he pulled her to him, their foreheads touching. He kissed her hard, pressing her ever closer to him, wanting her to know how much she excited him. He pushed her back down on the lawn, his hands wandering aimlessly over her.

The intensity of Michael's kiss startled Nikita causing her to bite down on his lower lip, just hard enough to get his attention. "OWW!" He released her, running his finger over his lip checking to see if she drew blood. He rolled over onto his back.

Nikita propped herself up on her elbows. "I thought about a knee to the groin, but I changed my mind," she said, her voice tinged with dismay.

"I appreciate that," Michael replied sheepishly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

They lay there next to each other, a sickening silence between them. Nikita was continually amazed by the effect she had on Michael. If he kissed her like this in public, in full view of scores of people, she could only imagine what he could do to her if they were ever truly alone. The very thought of it made her tremble.

Michael's head was swimming. He had become a loose cannon where Nikita was concerned, the fact that their passionate exchange was witnessed by nearly everyone in the plaza only served to make things worse. Humiliated, it wasn't a feeling he enjoyed.

He dusted himself off and rose to his feet. "I can't let that happen again or next time I might not be able to stop." He took Nikita by the hand and pulled her to her feet. Michael surveyed her intently, his warm breath caressing her face. "You are a coup de foudre, Nikita. A thunderbolt to the heart. The first time I saw you I knew it. For the world I can pretend you mean nothing to me. But my heart will keep me honest."

Nikita felt her glass heart crack wide open as her eyes welled with tears. Always the strong one, Michael now appeared so vulnerable, so, human. She could see his agony, that his efforts to quell his feelings for her had become futile. Wanting to ease his pain, she was about to do the only thing she knew would truly set him free.

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

"Michael, what if next time was now?"

"I don't understand."

Nikita swallowed hard. "Operations and Madeline probably suspect we're already lovers. Walter, Birkoff, they sense it, too. Why not prove them right?" Nikita eased over to Michael, resting her head upon his shoulder. "Maybe if we became lovers it would relieve some of this tension between us. I don't know about you, but I'm getting tired of this mating dance."

Grasping her firmly by the arms, Michael pulled Nikita away from him. "Do you really believe that if we make love only once, that will satisfy us?" Michael shook his head in amazement. "Nikita, one night with you would only leave me wanting more. To be your lover only once…is an unthinkable cruelty."

"How can you know that? We won't know unless…" Michael put a finger to her lips, stopping her in mid-sentence.

"The Balkan mission…thankfully it went smoothly because my mind wasn't on my work. You were everywhere. I'd close my eyes and I would see you. I could smell your perfume, feel you next to me. Countless times I thought of what it would be like to make love to you. My need for you is so great it scares me." He turned from her and began to walk away.

"Michael, I've never known you to run from anything," Nikita called out. "I'm not the enemy!"

She followed after him, determined to make him listen. Stepping in front of him, she forced him to stop. "Okay.…maybe you're right. Just hear me out."

They stood shoulder to shoulder, unable to look at each other. Nikita brushed the hair from her eyes, taking a deep breath before continuing.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. Once could never be enough for me, either. The only thing that I know for sure is that I want you in my life. I want to share everything with you, Michael, as much as you'll let me. I'm falling in love with you and I can't stop it."

Michael looked skyward. "You don't know me, Nikita. I've done terrible things…"

"That's Section talking. I can see inside you, Michael, inside your heart, to the good that you work so hard to hide." Nikita brushed her hand over Michael's hair, tucking a stray lock behind his ear. "We know we're each other's weakness. Why can't we be each other's strength as well?"

She was so trusting, so beautiful. Michael felt as though his heart would burst. "If only it were that simple, Nikita. But the reality is that Section controls our destiny. The only way we'll truly be allowed to be together is if they feel it will benefit them. How we feel about each other is irrelevant. It may not be fair, but life in Section never is."

"Then I'll do as they ask, as you ask, if it means we can be together," Nikita replied, trying desperately to hide the lump forming in her throat. "You told me to be patient, Michael. I'm not good at that, but I can try. Just promise me one thing."

"Yes?"

"That you'll make me the best operative I can be. That'll I'll be so good they'll have no choice but to allow me to be on your team. You're my incentive. Together we can turn Section upside down."

Taking Nikita's face in his hands, he gently stroked her cheeks. "That's always been my plan, Nikita. To teach you everything I know; everything you'll need to survive inside the section." A half smile touched his mouth as he gently kissed her forehead.

"Teach me to be a Valentine Op. I've only heard Madeline talk about it once in passing. Isn't that when the mission profile calls for you to seduce your target?" Nikita cringed at the thought.

He hadn't expected this. He had hoped, foolishly, that she would never be used in such a way. But he knew that Madeline and Operations had recruited her for just that purpose. She had all the makings of the perfect Valentine Operative, the one by which all others would be judged. And he knew she'd be good and it killed him.

"Yes," Michael replied, his eyes avoiding hers. It's difficult at first but over time you become desensitized. It becomes just another part of the mission. Emotions never enter into it."

"And I take it you've done this before? It gives me the creeps just thinking about it. The idea of you making love to someone else…I'd rip her lungs out!"

Michael liked that she felt possessive of him. He took her in his arms and hugged her tightly. "You do have a lot to learn. You don't make love. It's only sex."

"Still…the idea is repulsive," Nikita replied as she began to circle his ear with her tongue. "I'd have to pretend I was with you. That would be the only way I'd be able to get through it." She dragged her mouth down his neck, across his collarbone to the other side, leaving behind a trail of soft, wet kisses.

Michael moaned softly. That non-verbal sound that came from somewhere deep inside his throat was the highest form of compliment he could ever pay her. "Unfortunately, you'll make a fine Valentine Op," he said, his breath coming faster. "All right, you can stop now." His words were lost on her as she undid the top button of his shirt, her lips working their way across the top of his chest. "Ni-ki-ta, that's enough."

"Sorry," she growled. "Always looking for an opportunity to improve my field mechanics."

"Trust me. Your technique is extremely effective," he said as he buttoned his shirt, his green eyes cautiously watching her.

"But you said I have a lot to learn," Nikita teased. Grabbing him by the hand, she started to lead him down through the plaza. "Come home with me," she pleaded, her eyes beckoning him. "We can do some research. Remember you said you'd teach me everything. I'm going to hold you to that."

Strong fingers wrapped possessively around her arm, pulling her back to him. "I'll walk with you but then I leave. No more teasing, Nikita. Promise me."

She kissed him lightly on the tip of his nose. "I don't make promises I can't keep. Let's get busy."

***********

Nikita had caught her second wind, the brisk walk back to her apartment, invigorating. Never one to waste an opportunity, she had been handed a chance to be alone with Michael and she was determined to make the most of it. That he agreed to escort her home was proof that he was willing to take a huge risk to be with her. As they neared her building, she hoped desperately that she could convince him to come inside. Once there, she would have him. All of his words of warning suddenly seemed ridiculous. Relentless, Michael had become her Mecca, and the journey was about to begin in earnest.

The impossible was staring Michael directly in the face, her blue eyes ablaze. "You are coming in?" Nikita's voice was sickeningly sweet, her cheeks flush with a rosy glow from the night air. Just when he thought she couldn't possibly be any more desirable, there she was, radiant, the curves of her body casting a delicious silhouette against the light of the hallway. Feeling like a school boy, Michael slipped his hands into his pockets as if he didn't know what to do with them. He felt himself staring as she pushed open the door to her apartment and stepped inside. She'd drawn that line in the sand, daring him to cross.

"Well?" Nikita eyed Michael, folding her arms across her chest.

He had never backed away from a challenge and this was as good as they come. "I told you I would accompany you home. I did. Now I have to go."

Nikita was having none of it. "You look foolish standing there in the hallway with the door wide open." She pretended to ignore him, throwing her keys and jacket atop the kitchen table. She mouthed a silent prayer as, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him step through the doorway.

He leaned back against the door, closing it quietly behind him. Instinctively his eyes studied the surroundings, finally catching on Nikita, her body stretched out in an easy chair. She was dressed in a pair of khaki cargo pants and a dusty blue hooded sweatshirt that zipped up the front, cropped short enough to expose just a sliver of belly. Removing his jacket, he opted for a seat on the couch.

"There is a name for women like you, Nikita." Michael's voice was stern, his eyes avoiding hers.

"I know. It's fitting, don't you think?" she replied, a sinister gleam in her eye. She tossed back her head in obvious glee.

"An incorrigible flirt," Michael muttered under his breath. "Heed my warning, Nikita. It will get you into trouble one day.

"Maybe," she replied coolly. "But I can break a man's heart or his neck, whichever I choose. Quite a gift Section's given me." Clearly full of herself, she leaned back and closed her eyes.

Michael glanced upward, convinced that she had been sent by some higher power to curse and vex him. Having endured all he could of Nikita's flirtations, it was time his prize pupil was put to the test. "Don't let it go to your head," Michael warned. "Your target may be just as adept at those things as you." He rose from the couch and without a sound, moved to her in two long strides.

"Come here." He grabbed her wrists, pulling her up roughly. Nikita was caught completely off guard, her reflexes slow to react. Michael snarled his fingers through her hair as he pulled her to him.

"You said you wanted me to teach you everything," he said, his voice brusque and breathy. "Consider this your first lesson in becoming a Valentine Op." Eyes filled with desire, he kissed her with a savageness that sucked the oxygen from her lungs. A rag doll, Nikita was pliant in his arms.

Michael," Nikita moaned, her voice as faint as air. He continued his reign of pleasure, brushing his lips lightly against hers. He could feel her shudder in his arms, her breath catch. He tenderly parted the seam of her lips with his tongue, kissing her gently this time. His tongue was inside her mouth and driving her nuts. She felt out of control, sliding her arms around his neck as she deepened his kiss.

Without warning, he broke from her embrace, grabbing her arms and pulling them behind her back. He pushed her roughly into the wall, her cheek pressing hard against it. Startled, she struggled to break free, but Michael held her fast. He pressed himself against her back, pinning her against the wall. Releasing her wrists, Nikita's arms immediately went up against the wall to brace herself. With deft, practiced fingers he gently teased at the soft skin of her belly while his right hand roamed down her buttocks, to between her legs. She could hardly catch her breath, completely disoriented, wanting him and fearing him at the same time.

"Tell me what you want, Nikita," his words in her ear, his breath hot against her skin. "What do you want me to do to you?"

"Not this way, Michael," Nikita gasped, a trace of fear in her voice. "This…this isn't what I want."

He turned her around. Michael's eyes swept over her; to her eyes, then her mouth, on to the hollow of her neck before finally coming to rest on the silver zipper of her sweatshirt. His eyes never left hers as he took it between his fingers and gave it a gentle tug. Nikita quivered as she felt her nipples harden as he inched the zipper downward. Bending down, he licked her lightly between her breasts, his right hand still nestled in the warmth between her legs. She bit back a guttural moan building deep inside her throat.

Michael stepped back, surveying the damage he had done. Nikita's chest heaved with each breath, the knuckles of her fingers white from digging in to the wall. Michael pulled the zipper of her sweatshirt back up into place. Cupping her chin in his hand, he raised her head allowing their eyes to meet. "Be careful what you wish for Nikita," he said softly, smoothing the hair from her eyes.

Nikita glared at him. What once were bedroom eyes were now filled with rage. "You had no right!"

Michael began to pace the floor of the living room. "No right? Nikita, you toyed with me like a cat with a mouse. You teased me, tempted me. Next time your target may not be so forgiving."

Nikita threw herself down on the couch, running her hand through her hair. "It's not the same! You can't compare how I would react to a stranger to how I respond to you."

"Perhaps, but nevertheless, you broke a cardinal rule of a Valentine Op. When I kissed you, you responded and I did what any man would do in that situation. I pursued. Your emotions came to the surface. You must learn to divorce yourself from your feelings."

"ARRRRGH!" Nikita picked up a pillow and hurled it across the floor. "It's too easy for you," she shrieked. "How do I know you weren't sent by Operations to play me? You said yourself that there is a lot that I don't know about you. Maybe this is one of those things. It would be so like Section."

Michael sat down beside her. He reached to touch her, but Nikita pulled back. "I could never do that to you." There's no ulterior motive to my feelings for you. Surely you know that."

Nikita forced a smile, hesitating before taking his hand. "I know." She tickled her fingers lightly across his palm when, without warning, she grabbed his arm and twisted it violently behind his back. Michael let out a howl as a wave of pain radiated up his arm.

"How am I doing now?," she hissed, her teeth tightly clenched. She twisted harder, pulling him to her. "I'm divorcing myself from my feelings. His arm still twisted grotesquely behind him, Nikita pushed Michael back down on the couch, falling hard against him. "Resist me and I'll have no choice but to kill you." Savoring the look of shock on Michael's face, she released him and stood up. "Your defenses were down and I went in for the kill." Nikita lowered her head, an ominous flash in her eye. "I learned from the best."

Shaking off the sting in his wrist, he pushed himself up to his elbows. He thought for a moment that she might have broken his arm, that maybe he deserved it. But none of that mattered now. He was completely smitten with her. A beautiful, sexy, killing machine. In all his years in Section, he had never encountered a woman so rare, so compelling. Nikita was quickly becoming everything he knew she could be.

"What am I going to do with you?" The words spilled from his mouth before he realized his loaded question.

"I can think of a few things," she said, that familiar tease returning to her voice. She stood over him, her hands clasped behind her back.

He rose from the couch and pulled on his jacket, intent on getting out of there in one piece. He could feel Nikita shadowing him as she slipped her arms around his waist. Resting her head between his shoulders, she could hear his heart beating wildly. Closing his eyes tightly, he knew there was no way he could leave her. He wanted this too much.

"As I recall, we were in this same place not so long ago," he said softly. He turned around, pulling her close. "I don't want to go."

"Then don't." Nikita watched Michael's mouth as she grazed her finger along his parted lips. "Mmmm. You have a great mouth," she purred, taking that same finger and touching it lightly to her tongue. "Let's see if we can't find something to do with it."

She could have knocked him over with a feather. He was so completely captivated by her he felt like he was drowning in quicksand. She had squashed every remaining thought of leaving and replaced them with unrelenting, carnal lust. Tonight would be payback for all those nights she tormented him, when he would lie awake, so hard from the thought of her, that he couldn't sleep.

In what was to follow, there was no element of choice. Some things simply were meant to be and could not be rendered otherwise. He would commit to memory every mystical moment, every sigh, every touch, every kiss. Everything. For once in his life he would lead with his heart and think about the consequences later. Section be damned.

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

"Madeline! Are you watching this?" Operations bellowed. "It couldn't unfold more perfectly if I had scripted it myself." A huge smile washed over his face as he settled in to watch Michael and Nikita's most private moments. "Installing surveillance in Nikita's apartment was inspired."

Madeline stepped through the doorway of his office, a chagrined look falling over her face. "We should give them their privacy," she said as she brushed past him. "I think we both know where this is going."

"I have to give credit where credit is due, Madeline," Operations replied, shaking his head. I don't know how you convinced Nikita to seduce Michael, but I'm awfully glad you did. Once they become lovers, there'll be no turning back for Nikita. She will have become one of us."

"I can't take credit for that," Madeline responded, her eyes meeting Operations' gaze. "No, this is Nikita's doing. She had my blessing to take their relationship to the next level when she felt it was appropriate. I must say she handled Michael quite effectively. She's good."

Operations flashed her a devilish grin as he switched off the monitor. "I've seen enough. We'll have to keep Nikita on a short leash. We can't allow her attachment to Michael to jeopardize their effectiveness in the field."

Madeline rose to stand next to Operations. "This can only make them stronger. Staying alive for each other will become a priority." She gently touched his hand. "It's worked for others."

Operations took Madeline's hand in his before bringing it to his lips in a gentle kiss. "Yes. I remember," he replied, his eyes meeting hers. Both shared silently their unspoken bond, forged so many years before.

"Would you join me for breakfast tomorrow? Say, about 8:00?"

Madeline allowed her hand to linger in his before turning to leave. "Yes, thank you. I'd like that. Good night."

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

Cradling Nikita's head in his hands, Michael gently caressed her cheeks with his thumbs. "I want you," he whispered, his lips lingering on hers. Michael kissed her, this time with an explosion of desire unlike any they had shared before. And she kissed him with a need as legible as his own, a deep, searing kiss that hinted of things to come.

Nikita felt a head rush as she dissolved into him. Lost inside his mouth, she pressed herself against him; bending to his will, letting her whole body flow against his. She grabbed his jacket and pulled it off his shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. She clung to him, running her hands down his chest and stomach, finally inching lower to seek his arousal, now hard and thick.

"Then you shall have me," she replied, her voice husky. "But not here. To my bed. Now," she ordered, her words whispered temptingly in his ear.

Michael buried himself in the hollow of her neck as he lifted her into his arms. Nikita wrapped her legs around his waist, thrusting her hips into him. Under his lips he could feel her heart beating, her warm skin burning for his touch. Through a torrent of kisses he walked slowly to the bedroom, finding his way easily as if he'd been there a thousand times before.

He lowered her gently on to the bed, but she quickly pulled him down and rolled him over on to his back. Straddling him, she slowly unzipped her sweatshirt and peeled it from her shoulders. Her skin glistened from the glow from a single moonbeam as it bathed her in milky light. She looked angelic, her blonde hair cascading down her shoulders, her firm breasts begging to be touched. Michael reached up, softly cupping them in his hands. Taking each nipple between his thumb and forefinger, he skillfully tweaked and teased until, instantly, they became taut and erect.

"God, Michael!" Nikita gasped, throwing her head back, arching her breasts closer to him. Desperate to taste her, he sat up and took her nipple into his mouth, circling it with his tongue, nipping and suckling. Nikita dug her nails into his shoulders as her moans of delight filled his ears.

Needing to feel Michael's skin against hers, she greedily tore at the buttons of his shirt, finally freeing him. She fell into him crushing her mouth against his. She kissed him with such fervor, it was as though she were trying to swallow him. Michael could feel her heart pounding, her nipples grazing across his bare chest. He broke the kiss to look into her eyes. Even through the dim light he could see her desire, her passion casting an aura around her.

"My Nikita. You are so beautiful."

She returned his gaze, her azure blue eyes aflame. "No more talk, Michael. I want you inside me. Please." Her tone was insistent, one borne of necessity.

"With pleasure," Michael growled as he unzipped her pants and slid them down. Nikita followed his lead, quickly removing Michael's trousers, her hands anxious to feel his arousal. Soft fingers wrapped around him, gently squeezing. The feel of her on this most intimate part of him sent him careening out of control. He mouthed her name, but the words wouldn't come. He grabbed her to him and the next moment his hands and mouth were all over her as hers were him. She swung her hips over his leg, grinding her femininity into his thigh, wanting him to feel her hot moistness.

Nikita was slowly and methodically driving Michael insane. What he felt for her was primitive, a hunger that had to be fulfilled. She seemed to be all that he'd ever wanted in his life, and he knew that he'd die if he didn't take her. There were no more thoughts of the consequences of his action, but just his overpowering need for her.

Nikita, too, fell victim to her raging desire. She leaned her head back and the only word she fully understood was, yes. Yes, whatever he wanted. Yes, whatever she could give him or do to him. Yes to anything and everything. Her hands were on Michael's back, on his chest, in his hair, everywhere that she could reach of him. He brought out something erotic and sensual in her, freeing her to be the woman she knew she could be. The one that Madeline had told her of. The one that could make a man beg.

The feel of him beneath her was empowering as she looked into eyes that pleaded with her to relieve him of his torment. "Nikita, please," Michael groaned.

Unable to stand much more of their glorious foreplay, it was time to dispense with the niceties of lovemaking. He rolled her on to her back, kissing her fiercely. He came forward on his knees, Nikita's hand guiding him in toward her.

His hard thighs pressed hers farther apart as she opened herself to him, her body pulsing with precisely located desire. "Michael!" Nikita gasped, her nails digging into his back. "I need you now. Now!" Her voice was insistent, her body trembling. Michael acquiesced, expertly sinking into her, filling her completely. Nikita cried out at the feel of him inside her, her body adrift in ecstasy. Michael stroked harder as Nikita wrapped her legs around him, pulling him in further. With each rhythmic motion, she would meet him more than halfway.

Nikita felt the swell of him within her, as a vivid surge swept the entire length of her body. She felt the travel of his tongue, felt him take her nipple in his teeth. Michael moved on her with that same focused confidence she had seen in him during their training. Only now, his energy was more personal, more intense and overt.

They spoke in a language of moans and sighs, their words stolen away by their blinding passion. They made love all night, demolishing all walls between them. Moving from one position to another with such familiar ease it was as though they had made love many, many times before. She wondered how this body that she'd never seen, parts she'd never touched, fit hers so well and pleased her so perfectly.

Michael always knew making love with Nikita would be incredible, but it was better than he ever imagined. It was almost as though they had stepped inside one another. If a thought passed through his mind, she acted upon it, and he seemed to sense what she wanted and needed. A coupling so perfect, so fulfilling, you can search for it forever and never find it.

With her name on his lips, he came inside her and it was like nothing he'd ever experienced before. The release he felt was as though he'd been waiting for this all his life. And Nikita arched herself into him and at the same time felt a rolling fire that rushed to her soul then spread in waves, encircling every fiber of her being, until he filled every part of her; the two fused together as one. It was the beginning of something, it was the end of something.

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

Michael woke early and at once felt the radiant heat of Nikita beside him. She lay along his body, folded in the shelter of his arm. He could feel her warm breath and the soft rise and fall of her breasts against him. All over her was the scent of the love they'd made. The scent of him on her, her mixed with him. It made him hard and made him want her again. He smoothed a stray strand of hair from her face, the corner of her mouth arching upward in response to his touch. His fingers lingered on her lips, that place he'd longed to touch and never dreamed he'd kiss.

It was the hour of the day when normally the man would leave and the woman would ask him to stay. Michael had been there too many times. Almost always, he had left because of fear, fear that the companionship his partner wanted after a night of passion, was too committing. But on this morning, the idea never even crossed his mind.

He lay watching Nikita, afraid to wake her. Not once in their tireless hours of lovemaking had either of them shown any sign of regret. But at the first light of a new day, he knew would come, if not regret, then some form of colder realization. He wanted to keep the day at bay, to somehow prolong their night together. So he wrapped his arm around her belly and drifted off to sleep.

He woke the second time to the sound of his cell phone. It was Birkoff, signaling him to return to section.

As he eased himself away from her, Nikita stirred, awakened by a moment of panic on finding herself alone. Noticing Michael's clothes were gone, she rolled out of bed and grabbed a t-shirt and sweatpants from her drawer. Hastily pulling them on she headed immediately for the kitchen.

"There you are," she said as she approached him. "I thought maybe I scared you away," she said, arching her eyebrow.

"Never." Michael tucked her into his arms and held her fast, bestowing a delicate kiss on her forehead. "But I do have to go. They'll be expecting you as well."

Nikita did little to hide her disappointment. She buried her face in his chest. "I wish we could just disappear from section without anyone noticing. "I just want to stay here with you. Nothing can touch us here."

"In a perfect world, Nikita," Michael whispered. But we have to return…they'll be expecting us." They looked hard at one another. He looked so worried, she was suddenly afraid he was going to say sorry, it was all a mistake and could they just forget it ever happened.

"Michael?"

"What?"

She swallowed. "I just want you to know that whatever you feel, whatever you want to do, it's okay."

"And how do you feel?"

Without even thinking she said simply, "That I love you." Then she smiled and gave a little shrug, almost breaking his heart. "That's all."

It's enough. It's everything. He covered her lowered face with kisses. "My Nikita. I never thought I could feel like this. But you make it so easy."

Nikita lifted her eyes to his. "Good. Being in love should be easy. Assuming, of course, that you are in love." She smiled and kissed him tenderly. "That will have to hold you for awhile," she whispered, running her finger down the length of his nose. She headed for the bedroom to prepare to return to section.

Damn. She was doing it again. Making him want her. He bit down on his lower lip and suppressed the urge to take off after her. "Do you think I have so little self control?" he called out.

Nikita peeked her head out of the doorway, a glorious smile on her face. "No. I think I do."

***********

"Take a picture, it lasts longer," Birkoff said, his eyes studying Nikita's intently.

"Huh? Sorry, Birkoff. Did you say something." Nikita reluctantly pulled her eyes away from watching Michael walk through systems. Watching Michael walk, anywhere, had become a phenomenon only recently discovered.

Birkoff smiled, noting Nikita's obvious distraction. "Yeah. Your hair's on fire. You might want to put it out."

"WHAT?!" Nikita scrunched her eyebrows and glared at Birkoff. "What are you talking about?"

Birkoff pushed himself away from the keyboard, crossing his arms across his chest. "Nikita, please. Who are you kidding." The corner of his lip curled into a sly grin as his eyes narrowed. "You're sleeping with him aren't you?"

Nikita was incredulous. "Who?" She shifted her gaze away from Birkoff back to the monitor.

Birkoff shook his head. "Okay. Twenty Questions. That's a good game. Let's see." He tapped his finger on the desk. "Is he tall? Yeah. Brown, shoulder length hair? Yeah. French accent? Yes, again. Drop dead gorgeous, or some seem to think? Are you seeing a pattern starting to form here?!" He stared at her, his mouth gaping open.

"Well?"

She pushed herself away from the desk and stood up. She leaned into Birkoff, her eyes boring a hole through him.

"So? It's not exactly need-to-know information, Birkoff," she said, poking her finger into his chest. "Besides, after that little stunt you pulled yesterday, when you lied to me about Michael to get me to come in; you owe me."

"Hey, I felt bad about that, but it's not like they gave me a choice." He studied her face. He could see it. She looked different, almost glowing. She had that, 'I just got out of bed after having great sex' look, and he envied her.

He turned his attention back to his work. "So. Is he as good as they say? There are some Michael stories floating around section that are nothing short of legendary. It's got to be impossible to live up to all the hype."

Nikita grinned at him. "He's the real deal, Birkoff." She lowered her chin over his shoulder, her lips grazing his ear. "Take every sexual fantasy you've ever had and multiply it by a thousand. That's how good it is." She squeezed his shoulder and left him there to draw his own mental pictures.

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

Nikita's ache for Michael had been building all day and could no longer be denied. To have him so close and yet so inaccessible was like some form of medieval torture. She headed for his office, hoping to find him there, to see him if only for a moment. Her conversation with Birkoff had rekindled the memories of the last few hours she had spent with him. She felt restless and anxious, as though her inability to be with him had somehow negated everything that happened between them.

"Nonsense," she muttered to herself. "Get a grip."

She knocked twice before sticking her head through the doorway of his office. "Hi."

"Hi." Michael motioned her inside. "How are things going?" His eyes poured over her.

Nikita could feel herself blush. He'd reduced her to quivering mass of jelly just speaking to her. "Things are…good. "That's a lie," she replied, looking up through lowered lashes. "Things are great."

Whenever Michael let his eyes wander over Nikita's face, they were invariably drawn to her luscious mouth, now curled up in a huge grin. He loved it when she smiled and it pleased him to know that he was the cause of it.

"I'm glad." Michael arranged and then rearranged the files on his desk knowing that if his hands weren't busy they'd end up all over Nikita.

"I saw you talking to Birkoff. Is everything all right?" He pulled out the panel from his desk and switched off the surveillance system.

"Michael, stop worrying," Nikita replied. She sat down on his desk, her legs swinging lazily over the side. "Birkoff knows, if that's what you're wondering."

"You told him?"

"He guessed." Nikita leaned her head back and stretched out her legs. "I think he's a little jealous."

Michael rose from behind his desk and kissed Nikita lightly on the forehead. "Why wouldn't he be? You are … incredible."

Nikita took Michael's hand and kissed it lightly. "I hear you're pretty incredible yourself. Birkoff tells me the stories of your romantic escapades are, how did he put it. Legendary. Care to elaborate on that?"

"Birkoff has an overactive imagination." Michael pulled Nikita to her feet. "Legendary? I rather like that. What do you think?"

At last he could get his hands on her. The touch of her skin and the light press of her body through her clothes almost made him reel. He found her mouth and kissed her hungrily, his tongue sliding through her lips.

Nikita melted into him, returning his kiss with equal vigor. She reached down and placed her hand against his already hard erection. "You won't get an argument from me."

Michael buried his face in the hollow of her neck, her heartbeat pulsing against his lips. "I want you right now, 'Kita." His hand reached up underneath her sweater to cup her breast as the events of last night came rushing back to him. He wanted to love her, to hear that little cry she gave when he entered her, the way her breath caught in her throat when he passed his hand between her legs.

"Michael!" At the sound of Birkoff's voice they instantly broke apart.

Like a couple of high school kids, they quickly ran their hands through their hair and down their clothes in an attempt to straighten themselves. "Remind me to kill him," Michael said as he went to open the door. "What is it Birkoff?"

The young man surveyed them both as he fought hard to stifle the laugh forming in the back of his throat. He was secretly pleased that he'd thrown a damper on their tryst.

"I was hoping I'd find you here, Nikita. Madeline wants to see you in her office right away." Birkoff glanced over at Michael, a half-smile covering his mouth. "How's it going, Michael?"

Michael dismissed him, returning to his desk. "Nikita, we can go over the sims for the Hong Kong mission later."

"Fine." She left Michael's office and headed down the hallway. Birkoff fell in step beside her.

"Madeline's going to have you for lunch," he said, avoiding her eyes.

"I can handle Madeline," Nikita replied, hurrying past him. She had thirty seconds to try to convince herself it was true.

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

Nikita knew exactly why she was being summoned to Madeline's office but there was something about being there that always set her on edge. Maybe Madeline was curious about "the legend of Michael Samuelle." She laughed out loud at that one. The idea of sharing with Madeline the most private details of her lovemaking with Michael seemed surreal. But somehow it fit her mood. Everything about the past 24 hours seemed like it was part of some alternate reality.

She spun around in her seat as she heard Madeline come through the door. "Good morning, Nikita," Madeline greeted her with her patented tight lipped smile.

"Good morning," Nikita replied, shifting uncomfortably, her eyes flicking sideways.

Madeline studied her intently. "Do you know why you're here?"

Nikita swallowed hard. "I think so. You want to know about Michael and me."

"There isn't much that we don't already know. Suffice it to say that Michael has become quite a temptation for you. We both know something about temptation, Nikita. About wanting things we shouldn't have."

Nikita looked at her coolly. "Who says I shouldn't have him? Not you. You practically handed him to me."

"True," Madeline agreed. "But it appears you and Michael were destined to be together. Are you in love with him?"

"Yes," Nikita replied, defiant, not an iota of hesitation in her voice. She glanced over Madeline's shoulder, a look of restless sadness in her eye. "But I don't know about Michael. I'm not sure I can measure up."

"What makes you think Michael is so perfect?" Nikita had not expected such a question, least of all from Madeline. She had never analyzed this particular feeling before, but she had no need to. Wherever she turned, others in section offered unsolicited confirmation of her assessment. Men respected him and hailed him as a leader. Women just plain wanted him.

"I can't believe I'm putting Michael on a pedestal and you're taking the opposite stand."

"That's because I know where his weaknesses are. I accept them. He's not perfect. He's had some failures. Some personal failures."

Madeline proceeded to tell Nikita about Simone, her marriage to Michael and her death. Nothing too detailed but just enough information to leave Nikita shocked and confused.

"Why didn't he tell me?"

"Probably because of his fear of losing you, of looking less perfect in your eyes."

Nikita was struggling. Part of her was bursting with understanding. Another part was angry and hurt.

"Would you like some advice," Madeline asked softly, her voice suddenly becoming very maternal. "Michael's not going anywhere. Take it slow. You two are coming to a new understanding. Strengthen it, solidify it. Let Michael tell you everything when the time is right."

"All right," Nikita nodded in agreement. "Is there anything else." She rose to leave hoping there were no more bombshells left for Madeline to drop.

"Yes. Cherish the bond that you've built with Michael. It's a rare thing in section. You two can have a very bright future here. And, Nikita. It may help you to know that Operations is aware of your relationship and has given his approval as well."

Nikita turned away. "I have you to thank for that?"

"No thanks are necessary. It's simply the right thing to do." Madeline smiled. "Contrary to what you may have heard, we're not completely without feelings."

"And Michael knows?"

Madeline nodded. "He does now." She looked at Nikita who turned away and headed down the hall.

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

It was all too much to comprehend, and certainly too good to be true. Nothing as wonderful and life-affirming as her love for Michael could ever be allowed to be nurtured in a place so barren, so smothering as Section One. It was as though Nikita kept waiting for Madeline to insert the pin that would burst the bubble she shared with Michael. She thought back to what Walter had said about doing what they asked. That it would buy her some time with Michael. Is this what he was referring to? And would she have to worry that each day might bring the possibility of this glorious rug being ripped out from under her feet.

And what of Simone? Had section approved of their marriage? Madeline wasn't exactly clear on that. It killed Nikita to think that Michael might have loved Simone as he loved her. Touched her the same way. Kissed her. Made love to her. Her head ached. Too many questions, with answers she probably didn't really want to hear.

"No way," she muttered aloud. What Michael shared with her last night couldn't possibly have been duplicated in a previous lifetime with anyone else. The rest of her life may be a mirage, but what they shared with each other was real. She just knew.

Later that night as she and Michael lay on the couch, their bodies wrapped together, that all too familiar pang of desire came calling. This time she felt different, eager. She drew Michael to her, wanting all of him, needing to give him all of her. And he made love to her with a reckless abandon that was so real and so true that, for the first time in her life, it made her think there just might be a God after all.

Afterward as she held Michael in her arms and watched him sleep, she felt clothed in a kind of peace she'd never known before. Simone could wait. It would change nothing. As she cuddled him closer, she felt the faint trickle of a single, happy tear.

At last, they had come around again.

THE END

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