Standard disclaimers, the characters aren’t my property and are being used without permission. For entertainment purposes only.

Chapter 1 (A Serious Chapter, where Nikita does some pondering)

Walter peeked over Nikita’s shoulder. She had obviously been working all night, and for God knows how long before that. “Good morning, sunshine. Wanna go grab some breakfast?”

Startled out of her reverie, Nikita replied, “Oh no, it’s not really morning, is it?” Rubbing her eyes, she added, “Walter, what day is it?”

Walter responded with a knowing smirk, “Sunday. Once upon a time, it used to be a day of rest. Maybe we’re far enough underground that God hasn’t noticed us yet. Then again, I don’t think too many of us are in his good books anyway.”

Nikita shook her head and smiled. “Walter, you’re in everyone’s good book. Except maybe for a few of your old girlfriends.”

Smirking, Walter replied, “Ain’t that the truth? Now, how about that breakfast? Christophe makes a killer bacon and scrambled egg sandwich.”

“I’ll have to pass, Walter. I’ve been up for 30 hours and I need to get some sleep. Check back with me in four hours and I’ll take you up on it.”

Nikita returned to her quarters in Section. Looking at the stark walls, she remembered her apartment fondly. One of the many downsides to being level six was the necessity of remaining on call at all times. Her apartment had been turned over to Jasmine, since she would no longer be able to use it. From the initial reports, prior to the termination of surveillance on the apartment, Jasmine had already brought color back to the stark white walls that Nikita had painted during her Gelman state.

Climbing onto the utilitarian slab that Section deemed a bed, her mind turned to Mr. Jones. Thoughts of the first day Mick Schtoppel had ‘revealed’ himself as the head of Centre made the corners of Nikita’s mouth turn up in a rueful smile. In retrospect, she couldn’t believe that Mick actually managed to convince her of his ‘genuine’ identity. Now that Martin had disappeared, Nikita regretted she had never gotten to know the true man behind Mick’s smarmy exterior.

Her brief reverie over, Nikita’s thoughts turned to the real Mr. Jones. Flavius. Her father. The truth she had sought for so long was completely unexpected. She had considered the possibility that she could be Operations’ daughter many times and rejected it an equal number of times. She also considered that the coincidence of her name and age with that of Helen Wick’s true daughter was a little too large for comfort. Was it possible that Helen was indeed her mother? That Roberta had adopted her as an infant? She had dug into Section’s files but had been unable to determine the truth. Helen’s DNA was locked in an inaccessible archive, unavailable to Nikita even at her new security level.

Regardless of the truth surrounding her mother, Mr. Jones was now revealed as the driving force behind her recruitment. Nikita remembered the difficult years of her childhood as Roberta dragged her along from boyfriend to boyfriend, dirty flat to dirty flat, culminating in her final move to the streets.

Surely, any father worth the name would have spared his own daughter from such an existence. Surely, any father with the resources of Mr. Jones could have arranged a proper upbringing, a proper education and a proper home for her. Surely, the head of Centre could have prevented multiple cancellation orders from being executed against his own daughter.

Surely, therefore, Mr. Jones was not her father. And if he was, she really didn’t give a rat’s ass.

She owed him exactly what he had given her: nothing.

Chapter 2 (A semi-Serious Chapter, where Nikita gets a sandwich)

Hours after Nikita laid her head down on the egg carton that was deemed a pillow by some accounting weenie; she managed to drift to sleep. Seemingly seconds later, she was awakened by the smell of freshly cooked bacon, eggs, and biscuits.

Her first thought was, “I’m going to cancel whoever woke me up.”

The wonderful scent of a café au lait wafted towards her and soothed her sleep-deprived mind. Grabbing the steaming mug from her visitor’s hand, Nikita took a deep draught and sighed. “Okay, Walter. I’m alive. Where’s that sandwich? I’m starved!”

A lean hand passed a plate containing a buttery croissant loaded with eggs, bacon and cheese. “Thank God cholesterol is not my number one concern! Hey, this gives me an idea … why don’t you give this to Operations? He’ll have a heart attack and die on the spot!”

Upon further reflection, she lifted the sandwich and took a large bite. “On second thought, I don’t want him dead. Mr. Jones is already trying to make me take the perch. If Operations dies, it will only be worse.”

She realized Walter hadn’t said a word since the door opened, a noteworthy event in itself.

She then realized she hadn’t looked at his face.

She then realized the hand that presented her with 150 grams of fat wasn’t liver spotted in the slightest.

She THEN realized she should be looking up right about now.

“Hello, Nikita.” Chapter 3 (A semi serious Chapter, where Nikita and Michael have a talk)

Inanities sprayed forth once Nikita’s brain began to engage. “Michael! Who taught you how to make a sandwich?”

“Wait! I mean, um ….” Desperately searching for something intelligent to say to her lover, Nikita realized she had no words. She dropped the sandwich and threw her arms around Michael.

Tears spilling down her cheeks, Nikita choked out, “I lied.”

Michael replied, “I know.”

Hours and many bouts of fevered lovemaking later, Nikita propped herself up on her elbows and worshipfully reacquainted herself with every curve of Michael’s face.

The gravity of being discovered with Michael, in Section, in the buff, suddenly dawned on her. “Why are you here? You’re supposed to be dead. They’ll cancel you if they find you here.”

“It was time.”

“Time for what?”

“Time to find Adam; time to save you; time for us to be together.”

“Adam? Have you found him and Elena?”

“Yes. They’re safe. Section will never find them again. They both have new lives, new names, and new faces. Adam will grow up far from his grandfather’s world and far from me. It’s best that way.”

“And us? What are we going to do?”

“Have you ever been to Tibet?”

Chapter 4 (Where Nikita has to make a choice)

Tibet? What on earth was Michael thinking about? The only things that stood out in her mind about Tibet were the Dali Lama and yaks.

Images of her father and Operations began to swim before her eyes.

“He’s preparing you for the perch, then for Oversight. Something I’ve been working toward for years” Operations had told her, as he was being sent to Containment by her father. She couldn’t bear the thought of Paul dying simply to open an unwanted position for her. Nikita intervened with her father to save Operation’s life and his occupancy of the Perch.

She recalled the mad conversation she had with her father when he explained that his computer simulation had predicted her life and deemed her a ‘savior’.

His flat declarations of her obligation and duty to Section rang in her ears.

His years of betrayal rang in her heart.

Michael lay beside her, his fingers entwined with hers, his eyes seeking hers for a clue of her thoughts.

At that moment, Nikita made her choice.

“I always wanted to raise yaks.” Chapter 5 (Where Nikita and Michael make a new home)

Note: Prior to committing this story to paper, I chose the Himalayas and Tibet as a joke, because I thought it might be preferable to have Michael and Nikita end up together as yak farmers, mostly for a laugh, but also for the HR twist on things. This has turned into a bit more of an HR story and quite a bit less of the completely frivolous romp that I had intended. Oh well. One has to go where the spirit moves them, or so they say.

Who are they? And why won’t they shut the hell up?

But I digress.

After doing a bit of research on Tibet, the idyllic life of a happy yak farmer just doesn’t appear to be in the long term cards for our couple. I have something better for them to do with their downtime.

Yes, the BlakYaks are real. Or at least the website I found on them says they are.J

Nikita stoked the fire in the iron pot-bellied stove. She looked around the small cabin, not unlike Michael’s Austrian hideout, and smiled. Michael had indeed begun to reveal more of the man behind the operative every day they spent here. Her heart had not proved false in choosing him over Section.

In choosing Tibet, Michael might just have found the one place in the world where they could be safe. Who would look for them in these mountain ranges? Nikita was not implanted with a tracker after her return to Section, due to her increase in status. Michael’s implant had not been replaced prior to his ‘death’ because of the circumstances. Section and Center were likely combing the seas, looking for a yacht containing the two of them, an impossible and thoroughly useless search.

A series of low grunting sounds turned Nikita’s attention to the window. Watching Michael feed their new ‘pet’ was an experience in contradictions. It was incredible to watch the man she had seen kill a thousand terrorists lovingly care for this shaggy huge beast. Twelve hundred pounds of muscle, fat and hair currently occupied the small fenced-in area behind their cabin.

Jack, as she had lovingly named their pet yak, had been peacefully grazing near a cliffside when he had been set upon by a group of BlakYaks. While it was against the religion of the Tibetan people to kill yaks for their flesh, they were not prohibited from consuming an animal that had died by other means. The BlakYaks were known for chasing yaks off of cliffs to expedite their availability for the dinner table. She and Michael had staved off the attack and managed to coax Jack with them up the trail to their cabin. The BlakYaks were sent to the fate they had planned for poor Jack.

Nikita was content to enjoy every moment of her time with Michael. Section was never out of her thoughts for long and she was still not ready to believe that they would never be found. Only time would tell whether their new life together would last a day, a week or fifty years. She was ready to face anything rather than lose Michael again.

The first night they spent in the cabin, Nikita and Michael made several solemn vows to each other. The first was that they would never again lie to each other, no matter what the reason. The second was that they would both die if Section found and tried to separate them. Never again would they allow Section to force them into choosing life without each other. Their hearts and souls were healing from their mutual daily confessions of past forced betrayals and manipulations. Many tears were shed only to be kissed away in forgiveness and passion.

Nikita did miss Walter terribly, but consoled herself with the thought that he would be happiest knowing she was safe. However, she also missed the feeling that she got when Section made a difference that resulted in the saving of innocent lives.

The door creaked as Michael returned from his livestock duties. His hair had grown even longer during their time in the mountains and was rivaling Nikita’s pre-Section hairdo. Nikita didn’t mind the “mountain man” hairstyle. It suited the new Michael in a way. She knew that her penchant for redecoration might one day compel her to find a good pair of scissors to remedy the situation, but was managing to hold that urge at bay.

She stopped smiling when she saw Michael’s face. The blank Operative mask was firmly in place. Through the window, she saw that Jack’s pen was empty. Michael had set him free.

“We have to leave.”

Nikita was alarmed. “Why Michael?”

“The Chinese are planning to take over the village in the next few days. They want to take over this area and use it for raising food to be sent back to China. All yaks will be taken and raised for sale on the Chinese meat market. The villagers will be displaced from their homes by Chinese nationals. Any who resist will be sent to prison.”

Nikita the operative raised her head.

“Michael, we can’t just leave these people. They’ve done nothing wrong. They shouldn’t have to leave their land or their livestock. Jack shouldn’t be made into a stew.”

“We won’t succeed.”

“We could make a difference. We can stop this, maybe not forever, but maybe just enough to get some attention focused here. Then we can move on.”

And so, the decision was made. Michael and Nikita began their own secret movement to free Tibet and save its people and its yaks.

History will tell whether or not they ultimately succeeded.