The sidewalks glistened with crystal ice as pedestrians walked hurriedly to their destinations. There was a vast variety of people on the busy streets but only one that was vital to the mission. Nikita leaned against a cold marble statue and appeared to be waiting for someone.

From the position she could easily see Michael across the street, seated on a cherry oak bench, and six other operatives who were scattered around the premisses. Without warning, Joel Casheder emerged behind a child. The boy's mother, sensing nothing amiss as she looked into a outdoor shop, did not notice when Joel covered the boy's mouth and led him quickly to a nearby building. Nikita noticed however as did Michael and the other operatives, and the descended upon the building with hurried casualty. Nikita was the first to reach the ally where the building's entrance lay. She waited for Michael to catch up and they entered together, weapons drawn, with the others trailing behind them.

Nikita looked around the sparse room. It had a old, deteriorating wooden floor and white plaster walls. In one corner stood the young boy. Not five feet from him stood Joel, gun trained on the child.

Nikita cursed under her breath. Since when had this become a hostage situation? She felt Michael tense beside her and knew that he would risk injury to the innocent if it there was no other way to get to Joel.

"Put down your weapons or the child dies." Joel stated calmly with the serene expression Madeline so frequently evoked. Nikita shivered as she saw Michael making no move to lower the weapon. She had her orders and had to decide whether or not to lower the weapon and go against them, or follow through. She never made her decision.

The door directly to her left, the one that was blended in the wall so well she had not seen it, burst open and three men opened fire upon the operatives. Reacting immediately, Nikita threw herself behind a dip in the wall and took out on of the men. More filed out of the door, spewing bullets in every direction.

Ten men now stood in the middle of the room as a defense to Joel. They had stopped firing and Nikita stood silently behind her cover. She had estimated casualties in what little she had seen, thinking it probable that four operatives remained living and four lay on the ground before the terrorists. It was had been a bloody massacre and the once white walls were splashed with an ugly crimson color, from both blood and brain tissue.

Joel made the mistake of turning around, thereby removing himself from the cover of his men. With one shot, Michael shot him directly between the eyes. Nikita, hearing the commotion, flew around the corner of the wall and took out six of the men who had been to preoccupied with their leaders sudden death to register a defense.

Nikita dove back to her position as the bullets began to fly again, this time not being so lucky. She was hit in her abdomen and the blood ran black as she slumped against the plaster. Pressing her hand to the wound she looked down. Tissue and flesh hung around a gaping hole in her lower stomach. Ebony blood flowed around it, threatening her life. Michael ran over to her, the fight over and everyone but three operatives dead.

"Michael. . .Did we get Joel?" Nikita asked, struggling to stay conscious.

"No Nikita, he's dead. Don't worry about that. You're going to be fine, just help me here and apply pressure." Michael worked frantically, waiting for the van and trying to pick her up.

Nikita smiled at his reassurance. "No Michael. See? The blood is black. That means that the bullet is in my liver, I probably have twenty minutes to live at the most. . .I remember my MedLab classes. . ."Her voice trailed off and Michael choked back a quiet sob. She couldn't die here. Not like this.

Finally, the van pulled up and Michael loaded her into the back. When they reached Section five minutes later, Nikita was unconscious and fading fast.

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

Madeline watched as the stretcher approached her from down the hall. She could clearly see Michael's worried expression from her position even from this distance. That was a bad thing. Then again, if it were acceptable for her to wear an expression, her look would have mocked his. She was worried. Very worried.

Michael did not even notice Madeline's presence. He continued to hold on to Nikita's hand even as they approached the operating room. That is, until Madeline stopped him. She placed a cool, perfectly manicured hand on his arm in the unspoken request to let the doctors do their jobs. He let go of Nikita and they watched together as the stretcher descended into the spotless white room.

"She is going to be fine, Michael." Madeline stated, knowing that she wasn't being helpful. She wasn't even convincing herself with that statement.

"Yes, of course." Michael answered, deciding to play along. Maybe if they pretended as though that would be true, fiction would become fact.

~Remember the good times that we had Let them slip away from us when the day's gone bad Clearly I first saw you, standing in the sun When I feel your world upon me, I won't be alone~

Michael stood in the entrance to Nikita's room. She lay upon the white bed with a calm expression on her pale face. "A drug induced sleep. . ." Michael remembered the doctor's words, but more importantly, he remembered Madeline's expression. This was not good.

They didn't know how long she would hold on. But there was one thing that they did know. She wasn't going to be coming back. After the drug wore off it was up to her to come back. They weren't optimistic.

"Nikita, I know you can't hear me. There is something I have to tell you." Michael stopped, not sure how to go on. He took her pale, fragile hand into his. She remained as passive as ever.

~ I'm so tired, I can't sleep Standing on the edge of something much too deep Funny how we feel so much, we cannot say a word We are screaming inside, we can't be heard~

Michael reached up to her face and ran a finger down the length of it. A tear escaped his usually inscrutable eyes. Quickly, he withdrew the hand and brushed the tear aside.

"Do you remember last Christmas? We never gave each other presents. I would like to do that this year, I have a great idea." Michael knew he was rambling, avoiding the subject.?

"Everyone is worried about you, Nikita. We want you back. I want -need- you back. Please come back to us." Michael asked softly, rubbing his finger against her unresponsive hand. He decided to leave. He was doing no good here. Standing abruptly, Michael headed for the door. On a last thought, he turned back. Nikita lay there, quiet as ever and Michael's heart ached.

"I love you Nikita." He whispered, voice catching on a sob. As quietly as he had come, Michael left.

~So afraid to love you, more afraid to lose Clinging to a past that won't let me choose Once there was a darkness, deep in this night You gave me everything you have, you gave me life~ ~Song by Sarah McLachlan, Remember Me~

Michael stared unseeingly into his computer screen. He was supposed to be reviewing the report that had been written by the other qualified operative while he was with Nikita.

Nikita. The mere mention of her name brought on feelings of love and sadness. He knew that if he wanted to know why Nikita had been hurt, he had better read over the mission report and psych evaluations.

"How dare you!" Michael shouted as he entered Madeline's office. She looked up at him, a shocked expression shadowing her elegant features.

"I'll have to get back to you." Madeline stated as she canceled the video conference, never taking her eyes off of Michael. He was very angry and agitated. His stance, arms hanging at sides-hands balled into fists- and legs spread slightly apart, mimicked typical battle stance.

She wondered what had caused this fury. Deciding the quickest way to get an answer would be to ask, Madeline did just that.

"What can I do for you Michael?" She queried, serene expression in place.

Michael knew he was treading on fragile ground. Barging into Madeline's office, shouting at her and forcing her to end a conference would have been grounds for either immediate cancellation or deep psychological analysis if he were anyone else. Beneath her calm exterior; he knew she was furious.

"You can start by explaining why the fact that Joel Casheder's profile was incomplete."

Madeline's face grew dark once more.

"Excuse me?"

"You failed to include the fact that, on four separate occasions, Mr. Casheder has used children for shields when his life was threatened." Michael told her, fury ebbing it's way into his voice, "Don't you think that might have been helpful to the outcome of the mission? Knowing this, I never would have permitted the team to go any further."

Madeline barely controlled herself while he was voicing these accusations. "First of all Michael, please remember who you are talking to. I do not appreciate it when people come barging into my office, shouting with accusations flying. Next time, remember that. Secondly, I did include that in my profile. Second paragraph." Madeline informed him, intertwining her thin fingers.

"No, I read the profile that was downloaded from my Mission Pad. There was nothing there." Madeline sighed and turned to her computer. Entering numerous passwords, she pulled up a screen. Madeline turned the computer to Michael, showing him the information.

"I don't understand. This wasn't in the profile I received." Michael mused aloud, all anger forgotten. Madeline accessed Michael's files for herself.

"No, it wasn't. Any idea how that could have happened?" Madeline asked, equally intrigued.

"I have an idea." Michael told her, jaw tightening once again.

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

"Michael?" Madeline tried to get his attention but he was oblivious to everything around him. Madeline began to get worried.

"Michael!" She tried again, her voice taking on a demanding quality. He turned his head back toward her quickly, eyes clearing.

"Who Michael?" She asked, voice becoming softer as she realized she had his attention.

"Operations." Madeline's jaw almost dropped. Michael must have been very stressed out to even think of blaming Operations.

"Michael. . ." She began, about to protest. But he cut her off with a hand that asked her to wait for an explanation. She decided to give him at least that much.

"Who else would have access to YOUR personal files? Birkoff might, and that is a might.

He would never do that anyway. So who else?" His voice was challenging. Madeline thought about it for a moment, expression thoughtful.

"Operations. . ." She gave in reluctantly. Michael's face was one of pure hatred.

"Exactly." He rose from his chair and proceeded to move to the door.

"Michael." The spoken word was quiet but he heard it nonetheless. Turning around, he tapped his foot impatiently. Madeline rose from her chair, folding her hands in front of her body.

"Let me talk to him first." She stated, knowing if Michael didn't have time to cool down he would most probably kill Operations. Michael reluctantly sighed.

"Alright Madeline." He stood aside and watched as her slim figure slowly walked down the hall.

"But you better make it quick." The unheard was voiced in the softest voice.

Unfortunately, no one heard it.

"May I have a minute?" Madeline asked, standing in the door of Operations' office. He looked up, startled by her presence.

"Yes, of course." He did not dare offer her a seat, as he would have done to anyone else.

He smiled as he remembered the one and only time he had made that mistake.

Madeline paced back and forth across the carpet, looking out over Section from the large window. Operations, shaken from his reverie, grew worried. She never paced. And most certainly, she never avoided the subject.

"Madeline?" He asked. She looked over at him and decided to get down to it.

"Did you erase part of my profile from Team One's hand-outs?" Madeline questioned, standing in front of his desk. Operations returned the look, outwardly calm, but knowing that he was caught. Madeline saw too much for him to lie.

"Yes, I did." Madeline exhaled on a hiss. This was too much. Way too much.

"Why did you do that?" Operations smiled. He was proud of the fact.

"Because she was getting in the way. Nikita was unstable. She was operating on her emotions, taking situations into her own hands. I think it was the right choice."

Madeline stared at him. Then, fury clouded her eyes.

"So you decided to make this decision without informing me? This should have been OUR decision. Your decisions on personnel affects MY work. I handle Psych Ops, remember? You should have conferred with me." Madeline kept her voice level, staring at Operations with barely disguised contempt.

"You would have disagreed. And I believe that your decision would have also been based on emotion. I made a call, and it was right."

"No, you made a mistake. One that I have to pick up. Do you realize what you have done? I believe YOU were the one operating on emotions. Your interest was not in Section, your interest was in Michael. YOU want him to be the perfect operative. You want him to act without emotion. Section had nothing to do with this. Now you are not going to get anything you were striving for. Michael is an emotional mess. In fact, he barged in my office shouting tonight. If you want to make these kind of decisions, I suggest YOU be prepared to deal with the consequences." Madeline's voice was rising and she had to breath deeply to keep herself from taking out her gun and shooting him on the spot.

Michael watched from below as the heated argument continued. He could not stand it. He had to do something.

"You are WAY out of line Madeline!" Operations shouted, jumping up from his desk.

Just then, the door burst open.

Michael stood there, jaw tight with rage and eyes burning with fury.

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

"Michael. Come in." Operations invited, sitting back down. Madeline backed away from him and went to stand by the window.

"Did you delete information out of my team's profiles?" Michael asked, ignoring the chair and making no motion to indicate that he was moving further into the room.

"Michael. Come in." Operations repeated, stubbornly waiting until his demand was met.

Michael complied and moved towards Madeline. The furthest distance from Operations as possible.

"Now, to answer you question, that is none of your business." Michael stared at the older man, not believing what he was hearing.

"It is my business. That was MY team out there that you jeopardized. I think I deserve an explanation." Michael stated, controlling his rage.

"You deserve nothing. But, if it will satisfy you, I will tell you what you want to hear. Yes, I deleted the information." Operations leaned back in his chair, curious to what Michael's reaction would be. If he were a betting man, he would have placed his money on attacking him.??

Michael blinked. "Why?"

Operations thought a minute and decided to give him the same explanation Madeline had gotten.

"She was acting upon her emotions, causing missions to go a different way than anticipated. Therefore, she was trusting that we would be ready to clean up whatever consequences her actions left. We can't afford that." Michael stood straight and erect. He paused a moment before walking to the door without another word. When he was almost out of the office, Michael turned back around.

"I'll get back to you on this." Then, he was gone. Madeline maintained her position by the window, observing Michael as he walked toward the punching bag. With one hit, it went flying across the room; hitting numerous people as it sailed towards its destination.

"Threat or promise?" Operations asked, seeming to forget that they weren't on the best of terms. Madeline turned around slowly, erasing all emotion from her face.

"If I had been the one to say it, it would have been a threat." Leaving Operations speechless, she left quietly.

Michael stormed through Section, leaving behind an icy chill that made everyone he walked past shiver. He was furious. Beyond furious if that was possible. For the first time in Section he had wanted nothing but to jump across Operations' desk and strangle the man until he was the one in MedLab. This scared him. For it meant that, not only was his feeling for Nikita so strong that he would resort to violence to keep her safe, but it also meant that he was losing control. Control he needed to get back. He decided to visit Nikita.

"Kita? Can you hear me?" Michael asked what had become a routine conversation opener for the two. Of course, Nikita didn't say a word. Sighing, Michael took her hand.

"Nikita there is something I have to tell you. Your injury was not an accident. Operations deleted a critical piece of information from Madeline's Psych Profile. He wanted this to happen. I. . ." Michael's voice cracked. Chocking back a sob, he continued.

"I don't know what to do. You have to come back to me." Michael felt hot tears running down his flushed cheeks. Finally letting all the emotion out. His emerald eyes were shining with tears that had yet to be shed as he climbed on the immaculate bedding, cradling Nikita in his arms. He stroked her golden hair and rocked her carefully. The tears would not stop.

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

Michael left Nikita's bedside twenty minutes later in search of her doctor. When he saw her she was leaning over another patient, working hastily. Not wanting to interrupt, Michael stood back and watched her work. Her movements fluid and graceful, the doctor moved around the room with an experienced and self-assured air about her. Michael found this oddly comforting, knowing Nikita was in the hands of a woman who was so confident in her work.

Losing himself in these thoughts, he barely realized when the emergency procedure was done.

He looked up as the doctor was cleaning off her hands, giving her attention to this one task and nothing else.

Michael cleared his throat softly, causing the doctor to look up. Michael was stunned by the color of her eyes. They were a brilliant shade of azure, bright and shining with a happiness that was uncommon in both her line of work and the environment in which she lived.

He realized how much they resembled Nikita's. It was uncanny. Mentally shaking himself, Michael quickly began to talk.

"I'm Michael." He announced, breaking the silence and offering his hand. The doctor stared at it for a moment before taking the offering into her own light grasp.

"Marie." "Oh, boy," she thought to herself, "I think I'm in heaven." Marie stared into Michael's lush green eyes as the introductions were made.

"You are Nikita's doctor." Michael stated as they let go of each other's hands. Marie nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"Can you update me on her condition?" Michael asked, smiling gently. Marie's heart warmed at the slight grin that seemed to light up his features.

"Why couldn't it be a yes or no question?" Marie wondered to herself, trying to find words.

"Yes." Marie finally responded, "I'm on my way to her room now, I will tell you if anything is new when we get there." Michael nodded and followed her out the door, for the first time noticing the lemon colored locks that flowed freely down her back. She certainly resembled Nikita.

Marie picked up Nikita's chart and flipped through it while Michael stood by Nikita's head, waiting for an update.

"Well it seems as though nothing new has come up. I can only recommend that she spend her time in MedLab after we remove her from the painkillers. It is only up to her then." Marie placed Nikita's chart back on its appropriate spot and began an IV drip in the young woman's arm. When she was finished, Marie stepped away and began to descend upon the door.

"If you need anything else, I will be here." Marie added on a last thought, twirling around to meet his gaze.

"Thank you Marie." Michael's softly spoken voice carried to her, the French pronunciation giving her chills. Quickly she left, admonishing herself to keep a distance from all patients and persons related to them. Sometimes it was not easy. Not easy at all.

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

Sneaking in was easy. No one payed attention in MedLab. His plan was almost foolproof. Entering the access code to Nikita's room, he stepped inside. With a practiced precision, he administered the drug into Nikita's IV line. Clear fluid mixed with the nutrients already being fed into her body. When Operations left, she was already turning a light shade of purple.

"I need ten CC's of Alphropine now!" Marie shouted over the noise of the emergency operating room. Someone handed her a needle and Marie plunged it into Nikita's tender flesh, under her collarbone. Pushing the top down, the reddish colored fluid trailed into Nikita's blood stream. With what was an almost immediate reaction, Nikita began to turn back to her normal shade of pinkish brown. Marie heaved a sigh of relief. Now she had to tell Madeline.

"We are unsure of what happened. The only thing that is known right now is that Nikita's air supply was cut of by a foreign object, could have been something in the air, and her lungs were tightening. I gave her ten CC's of Alphropine and she began to breathe right away. My hypothesis is that she was reacting to our lessening her painkillers." Marie informed both Madeline and Michael, without taking a breath. Madeline nodded and Michael stared.

"So, I can visit her?" Michael asked, backing toward the door as he spoke. Madeline held up a hand.

"Not until you get exactly one hour of sleep, certainly no less." Michael glared but Madeline had spoken. Michael could envision it now, guards posted at Nikita's door, waiting for him. And she would be the one to do it to.

"Alright. One hour." With that said, Michael left. Sleep was not the foremost thing on his mind.

Michael kicked off his black boots. Settling into his office chair, he turned on his computer. There was something he needed to do. There were only two people in Section who could access MedLab documents or recorded events whenever they felt like it, with the exception of Operations and Madeline. Birkoff was one and Michael was the other.

During the estimated time when the incident in Nikita's room had occurred, the camera had conveniently lost its power source. Michael sighed and activated the camera out in the hallway, leading to Nikita's room. That to had failed. Michael slammed his hand on the desk in frustration. Then a thought occurred to him. Accessing Operations personal files, he knew that if he were caught he would be on grounds for cancellation. He then pulled up the erased files and began to go through them. With widening eyes, he found what he was looking for. Downloading the file and saving it to his hard drive, Michael canceled Operations' computer information. When he began to file through what he had downloaded it all began to make sense. And he was furious.

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

"Why did you do it?" Operations turned around, facing his door. He could see the faint outline of a body in the dim light but nothing else. Nevertheless, he knew who it was.

"Ah Michael. What do you want?" Operations asked, sitting back in his chair.

"I want the truth."

"I can't give you that."

"You will." Michael started towards Operations. Operations did not say a word, not believing that Michael would actually do? anything. He was very, very wrong.

"This is my last warning. Tell me now. It's such a simple question, what would a little information do?" Michael asked, his voice mocking. Operations shook his head "no".

Michael picked him by his shirt and threw him on the ground. Operations' head hit the floor with a sickening thud. Blood poured down the right side of his face as he lifted his head and tried to sit up. Michael crossed the floor in a fluid motion, pressing Operations back into the carpet.

"Tell me." He stated in a soft even tone. When Operations didn't answer, Michael pressed his palm at the base of Operations' neck. Soon he was chocking and gasping for breath.

"Are you going to talk?" Michael asked, and smiled when Operations nodded through coughs.

"Good."

"I administered the drug to Nikita because there was a probable chance of survival. I have already told you that she was a danger to Section and I believe that she was making you soft."

Michael's face went under a change as Operations spoke these last words. Pulling back a fist, he sneered at his superior. He didn't get to make the hit.

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

A cool hand caught Michael's wrist, not allowing him to go further. Relief shone across Operations while Michael looked up in anger.

"Don't." This was the only word spoken by Madeline yet her eyes conveyed a thousand emotions. Michael stared into their ice chocolate depths and dropped his hand.

Without a word, he gathered control and left the room.

Madeline watched Michael go, her serene face portraying little emotion.

Behind her, Operations rose and pressed a hand to his temple.

"What are you going to do about that?" He asked sardonically.

Without turning, Madeline replied. "Normally? I would do a Psych Evaluation and determine whether or not the operative is fit for his status."

"And in these circumstances?" Operations prompted, a migraine starting to pound in his head.

"I will give him another chance. He is our best operative." Madeline stated.

"You will do what? He just attacked me!" Operations exclaimed.

"I know. I have been thinking. Do you think it is emotionally healthy for one to carry all of his emotions, of varied kind, around for years without ways to express them?" Madeline asked. Operations scowled, it was obviously a trick question.

"Do what you have to do." With that said, he left heading for his office. Madeline clasped her hands behind her back and lowered her head.

"I didn't think so either." She spoke in a quiet, low voice.

Michael felt the urge to do something destructive. He hadn't felt this since his first day in Section. Walking around corners and down twisted corridors, new and old operatives shrank away, seeming to melt into the wall, at the anger he was spewing about. They seemed to fear for their lives, which was good. At least that is what Michael thought. The more they stayed out of his way, the better off they would be.

He couldn't go see Nikita out of control like this. And he couldn't go home. Making his decision, he turned into Weapons. Quietly, Walter handed over a gun. Michael went to target practice.

Walking along the halls of Section Madeline realized something was wrong. About twenty operatives stood in a circle around the shooting range that lay towards the far side of Section One. Curious, she went to investigate.

Madeline fit herself between two men who were twice her size. Cringing when they realized who was beside them, the men left. Now she had a clear view of what was happening. It was Michael.

"How long has he been like this?" Madeline quietly asked a raven haired girl beside her.

Not appearing to be intimidated, she responded quickly.

"About ten minutes. He just keeps shooting." Nodding Madeline turned to the safety glass once more.

"What is your name?" Madeline asked the girl, keeping her eyes on Michael.

"Savannah."

"Alright Savannah, get out of here and take any friends you have with you." Madeline ordered. Savannah nodded and exited quickly with five people in tow.

"Listen up. I want all of you to leave but you." She pointed to a tall man in front of her. The operatives disappeared within seconds.

"You. I want you to get me a bulletproof vest. Come back here, deliver it and then I want you to inform MedLab someone may be on the way. Understood?" The man nodded and was back in less than five minutes. Quickly, Madeline shrugged out of her over coat and placed the vest over her silk blouse.

"Ma'am? May I ask what you are planning on doing?"

Madeline looked up towards the doors of the shooting range. Looked at Michael firing shot after shot into a destroyed target. Saw his expression, one of hate and loathing.

"I'm going to help him." She stated simply, and headed for the doors.

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

Madeline reached out and slowly pushed the doors open. Breathing deeply, she stepped into the dusky room. Michael stood in the same position as before and fired shot after shot, only stopping to reload when the bullets were gone. Madeline stood back for a moment, not wanting to startle him.

"Michael?" She asked in a low, soothing tone. He didn't give any sign that she had even spoke as he continued to shoot. Madeline approached him slowly, trying not to make sudden movements. She stopped fifteen feet in front of him.

"Michael. . .can you hear me?" Madeline asked, concerned. If she didn't know better she would have sworn she was talking to a wall. Suddenly, the deafening shooting stopped. Michael didn't lower his gun, he stood there in a defensive stature.

"I can hear you just fine Madeline." He replied in a very un-Michael like tone. His voice was pitched high, stress racking every word. He was at a breaking point Madeline realized.

"Why don't we go to my office?" She suggested casually, never wavering even when he spun his body around, pointing the gun at her. She knew that he was an excellent shot and was not taking her chances.

"No." Michael said, finger tightening on the trigger. Madeline grew uncertain. She didn't doubt he was perfectly capable of killing her.

"Are you going to shoot me Michael?" Madeline asked, keeping the subtle fear that was ebbing at her out of her voice. Michael shrugged and focused on her again.

"Michael. . ." Madeline started, not moving an inch.

"SHUT UP!" He shouted angrily, the hand that held the gun trembled. Madeline was taken aback and did just that.

Michael stared at the auburn haired woman before him. He had two choices. Shoot her or let her live. Curiously, he didn't want to shoot her. That man. The gray haired man upstairs. Michael wanted him dead. But he didn't trust the auburn haired woman before him. Didn't want to turn his back on her. She might do anything, always be on guard. An image of a golden beauty floated before him. Nikita. He wanted to see her.

"Nikita. . ." Michael started, sobs closing his throat as everything came back to him. He was living in a haze, thoughts clouded and facts twisted beyond comprehension.

The second ticked by as Michael stood there, gun trained on Madeline, eyes closed- remembering. So much pain in his life. It didn't seem fair.

Michael's eyes flew open in a moment of clarity. He could end the pain. He held that power. Turning the gun on himself, Michael pressed the muzzle to him temple and squeezed his eyes shut.

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

Madeline watched, horrified as Michael turned the gun on himself. Reacting immediately, she flew at him, knocking the gun out of his hands. Startled, Michael snapped around, throwing Madeline against the wall.

Michael sat on the cold floor, knowing how close he had come to pulling the trigger. It was enough to make him sick. Drawing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, Michael shook with both tears and shock.

Madeline sat up, shaking her head to clear it. There was a deafening silence in the gray room and she jumped up, looking for Michael. When she was certain that he was alright, she took her time walking over. Kicking the gun out of reach, Madeline knelt by Michael's huddled form.

"I'm sorry." Came the muffled announcement. Madeline's heart twisted in her chest and she lay a hand on his shoulder.

"It's alright." She soothed, drawing him into a motherly embrace. She decided that no one had to know about this. It would earn him cancellation and Madeline didn't want that. Sitting on the floor, arms wrapped around Michael, Madeline prepared her lies.

"What happened down there?" Operations asked, devoting all of his attention on the woman before him. She sported a slight bruise on her cheekbone, barely noticeable except to Operations. Madeline took a seat across from him for the first time in many years.

"I talked to Michael. He said that he will accept my help and we will work harder on appropriate ways for him to display his emotions."

"And this?" Operations asked, gesturing towards her cheek. Madeline raised a hand, lightly touching the observed bruise.

"I tripped." She told him, gracefully rising from her chair and exiting the room. Operations watched her leave with open skepticism on his face.

"You tripped." He stated to the empty room.

Michael cautiously entered Nikita's room. That morning she had been taken off of her painkillers and was now surviving on her own. Marie had been optimistic, truthful in her beliefs that Nikita would wake up soon. Taking a seat by Nikita's bedside, Michael waited.

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

Michael kicked angrily at a discarded Pepsi can.

"I should be with Nikita." He stated to aloud to himself, glancing around the deserted park. Madeline had kicked him out of MedLab, and Section for that matter, for three hours. She declared that he needed "rest". Normally he would have put up a fight but Madeline had slept at Section and only had a change of clothes there, so none of her usual immaculate makeup was applied. Hence, the bruise was more visible, just enough to make him feel a measure of guilt and obey her wishes.

"Very good tactic." He announced aloud, once again. He could never tell which of the things she did and stated contained hints of verisimilitude and what did not. He wondered if he faced cancellation. After all, he had attacked Operations.

"But I would have heard by now. . ." Michael continued to talk to himself as he worked his way through the large hedges that served as a maze. This was his favorite place to come when he needed to think. The peacefulness of the place never ceased to amaze Michael, blooming lilacs and roses threaded their way through the dark green leaves that surrounded him.

In the moonlight the place was especially beautiful. In the middle of the maze, which he was standing upon now, there was a reflecting pool that showed the full moon in it's depths. Michael sat on a cherry oak bench and rested his chin upon his hand. Lifting the hand that was resting in his lap, Michael glanced at his watch. He had two hours.

"Nikita, you have got to wake up. Think of everything you are missing." Madeline let out a short laugh. That was a joke. What WAS she missing? For a brief moment, Madeline envied Nikita. How she wished she could slip into a deep sleep and never come back. Rid herself of the evils she had performed, horrors she had seen. Forget the monster she was so close to becoming. Nikita was the only thing that kept her from crossing that line between devil and human. There was one other person but Madeline refused to think about him. It was too dangerous.

Madeline reached out and smoothed Nikita's sunshine colored hair away from her face. Lately she had been thinking. Perhaps thinking too much. Wondering why they did the things they did at Section, why it was their place to enforce these rules. She kept these thoughts to herself, of course, but the effects were seen, she was afraid, by Operations. Decisions that would have been made without a second thought were now being carefully considered. It was so unlike her. So unlike what she had become.

"Dear Lord I am becoming Nikita." Madeline thought, a small smile touching her perfectly formed mouth. Nikita moaned softly, tilting her head to the right. It was so anticipated by Madeline that she jerked her hand away from Nikita's head. Recovering quickly, Madeline reached for her cell phone.

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

Michael sighed in resignation and reached for the ringing cell phone, sure that it was Madeline calling to tell him to stay away for a couple more hours. This time he was going to put up a fight.

Upon hearing the news, Michael started for Section at a dead run. He had not strayed far, the park was a block from the entrance to Section, and arrived less than five minutes later.

Madeline greeted him at Entry and, seeing her calm and collected, Michael slowed down. On the phone she had sounded anxious and mildly concerned but she seemed to have "recovered".

"Is she awake?" Michael asked, his words still hurried. Madeline smiled gently.

"Not yet." They walked side by side to MedLab, though their steps were noticeably faster.

Michael had a thought and decided to voice it before he might forget.

"Operations. . .is he alright?"

Madeline's step faltered for a moment, shoulders sagging. A split second later she was walking at the previously set pace, back straight and jaw set.

"He's fine." Her words were clipped. Just before going to Entry she had observed

Operations walking around the entrance to MedLab. He had only grinned at her and walked in the opposite direction. They rounded the corner and MedLab came into view. Michael headed for Nikita's room while Madeline hung behind, looking for Operations.

A presence was felt behind her and before she could turn and identify it, a strong arm embraced her waist, pulling her into a dark corner. Pressed against the wall, Madeline did not speak. She recognized who it was.

"If she does not wake by tonight, kill her. Kill them both."

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

Madeline stared at him in disbelief.

"Was I not clear?" She asked, knowing she was close to being either canceled or perhaps something worse. The look on his face was one she would not soon forget.

"Excuse me?" He asked menacingly. Madeline sensed his anger and subtlety flattened herself further back against the wall.

"They are NOT to be canceled. Without them, Section won't function as well without them and you know it. Don't jeopardize the mission success of Section for petty feelings you are having." Operations recoiled as though he had been hit.

"Madeline, I will give you the opportunity to remember who and where you are. Don't underestimate the lengths I can and will go to in order to make this happen. You have two choices." Madeline's eyes lowered and her face paled as he outlined her alternatives.

Nikita rolled her head to one side and winced. There was a sharp pain in temple but it faded after a moment. She kept her eyes closed and wondered how long she had been asleep. Feeling something by her arm, she slowly opened her eyes.

Michael lay by her side, head rested near her elbow. Nikita smiled softly and reached out. Fingering his soft cinnamon hair she let her eyes drift closed again.

Michael awoke with a start at her touch, eyes immediately flying to her face. It was obvious to him that she was awake, despite her shut eyes, and he let himself absorb the sight of her. Michael reached out, delicately tracing her upper lip. Nikita opened her cornflower blue eyes and stared at him, a smile brightening the room. Michael smiled back, happier than he had ever been. Operations had failed. They would always be together.

Madeline walked in Nikita's room to see Michael and Nikita locked in an embrace. She felt as though she was trespassing and waited a moment before clearing her throat softly. They parted immediately, yet reluctantly.

"Nikita. It is good to see you awake." Madeline told the younger woman, smiling at her warmly. Nikita smiled back.

"Thank you Madeline. What have I missed?" Madeline and Michael exchanged a long look, establishing what she should and should not be told. Bargaining with each other, well as much as Michael could bargain with Madeline, they reached an agreement.

"There were a few minor incidents. Nothing that you need to be aware of immediately. I'm sure Michael can fill you in later." Madeline gave a satisfies little smile. She had taken Michael by surprise with that comment. He was just lucky that she was not telling Nikita herself.

Madeline's moment of triumph past quickly, as did her smile, when she remembered what she had to do. Her features went slack and the hint of color on her face left. Nikita was the first to notice, despite that she was talking to Michael.

"Madeline?" Nikita asked quietly, tilting her head. Madeline looked up, apparently coming back to the scene before her.

"Is there something wrong?" Nikita questioned, curiosity and solicitude coloring her voice. Madeline stared at her, debating whether or not to give an answer. To warn her.

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

Madeline shook her head, both answering Nikita's question and dismissing her thoughts. Before another word was said she left the room, almost running out of MedLab. After that point, Madeline slowed to a hurried walk. She couldn't believe the choices she had to make. Operations had not given her much of a choice. One or the other. An ultimatum. She hated him.

"Cancel one or the other." Madeline remembered his words, spoken in obvious contempt. She was sure that under the surface of the statement lay a warning. Pick the wrong one and face the consequences.

Madeline entered her office, standing in the doorway for a moment. What would she do? It was not really two separate choices but one choice that would effect two people. Cancel Michael and you may as well cancel Nikita. They were ineffective without each other.

Moving further into her sanctuary, Madeline stared at her bonsai. Studying it. As she had done to so many people so many times. Briefly she remembered when Michael had been brought to Section. Coming upon him as he sat in the midst of a room full of terrible memories she had thought that he might not be valuable to Section after all. She had dismissed this as time went on, with Michael proving himself to excel in every area. Now she could barely believe that she had doubted him.

Reaching out a hand, Madeline touched the growing bud on a tree. Her hand, she observed, was slightly shaking. Section, as she had once suspected, was truly turning evil. Withdrawing her hand from the plant, Madeline sat at her desk. She knew what to do now. It would only take a little luck and a lot of skill. She hoped she had both.

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

"There is an important reason why I have set up this meeting. It concerns both of your futures, with or without Section." Madeline started her speech this way to obtain both operatives attention. It worked. Stretching out the moment as long as she could, Madeline retrieved her files from the disk. Nikita and Michael sat in front of Madeline's desk, eyes on her. Nikita was in a wheelchair and was not supposed to be up yet. After a long, tiring battle with Marie, Madeline had won. They were now waiting for Madeline to tell them what was going on.

"I was given a orders this morning. In those orders lay a choice. I was to decide which of you was to be cancel. One or the other." Madeline delivered this with a blank face, staring straight at Nikita. Nikita swallowed and looked away, finding the bonsai collection suddenly fascinating.

"My choice is this. I will not make it. It is up to you. Both of you. There are few options. One is this. Nikita's death will be faked when in actuality she will be transferred to Section Six. The other is that Nikita's death will be faked and she will be free. Michael would be transferred to Section Six. I think it more probable that Nikita would be the one to die either from my orders or from a relapse. Which will also be a factor here. Nikita, you are not completely healed. You must consider whether or not you would be able to function by yourself outside of Section. I need a decision by the end of the day." Madeline took a deep breath. She was on a tight schedule. Usually she would have dragged the "conference" out and given information to them piece by piece in order to gauge a reaction.

Nikita and Michael sat in their chairs unmoving for several minutes. Madeline was about to resort to throwing things at them to get a reaction when Michael stood.

"Give us a half an hour." With that, he picked Nikita up in one arm and the wheelchair with the other. Setting down the chair and Nikita outside of her door, Michael spared Madeline a look. She was haunted by the sadness in his eyes.

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

Michael and Nikita sat staring at each other. Nikita didn't know what to do. It might have been easier if Madeline had just decided for them. Nikita was willing to give up her life if it meant saving Michael, but Michael was willing to do the same for Nikita. It was a circle that never ended.

"Michael, I. . ." Nikita started, getting ready to suggest that he be transferred and she be set free but was silenced by a look. They were both realists. Both knew that even if Michael was transferred to a different Section he would never see her again. Operations would keep tabs on him. They would have to forget each other. Neither wanted that.

Each sat, absorbed in their own thoughts. Exploring every possibility. Madeline slowly walked up the steep stairs. Operations was in his office, waiting for her.

She remembered a time when he had been a kind, gentle man. That was long ago. Things had changed. They had changed.

She reached for the door, intent on opening it, but it opened for her. Operations stood in front of her, smiling. His smiles always looked forced. They sent shivers up her spine.

"Why don't we just. . ."

"I don't think that it is that simple." Nikita stated, responding to Michael. They had been over this a thousand times already. Nothing was simple in Section.

"Listen for a second. I may have an idea." Michael said, hope shining through his words. He had an thought, one that might just work.

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

Michael watched Madeline trimming her bonsai trees, unaware of his presence. He had a favor to ask of her. She wasn't going to like it but it had to be done.

"Madeline." Madeline started at the sound of her name. She had not known anyone was in the room. He had used her code again. She decided that she was going to have to get a new one.

"Michael." She returned the greeting, not turning around.

"I have a favor to ask." That got her attention. Slowly facing him, she raised her eyebrows. Clearly she wished him to continue.

"I need you to talk to George."

"George." Madeline stated simply, taking a seat in front of the computer monitor. The man staring back at her was in his sixties, well dressed with a head of silver hair. A certain power emanated from him in thick doses.

"Madeline. Care to inform me what this is about?" He inquired with a clipped Irish accent, obviously in a hurry.

"We need to talk about Paul. He has been making decisions lately that are affecting Section." George was in shock. This was not the Paul he knew.

"How so?" He asked, wanting a reasonable explanation.

Madeline decided to leave Michael and Nikita out of the conversation. She would use what little she had and play it up.

"For instance, his pursuit of a relationship with me that is not professionally based. This shows a weakness. One that has successfully been used against him in the past." Madeline began to outline, wincing slightly as she used his obsession with her to her own advantages.

Sometimes, even when she knew what she was to do, her job was almost unbearable.

Michael entered Nikita's room with a shining smile on his face. Nikita looked up from a magazine and smiled back.

"How did it go?" She asked, assuming it had gone very well indeed.

"Madeline is talking with George as we speak." Nikita's eyes lit up with hope and thoughts of the future.

"How did you convince her?"

"I didn't have to. She knows Section would be useless without us in the future." Michael sat down next to Nikita, green eyes looking into blue.

"You have convinced me Madeline." George finally stated after two hours of the meeting.

"This is most unfortunate but my permission is granted to use whatever means necessary to correct this problem. If you strongly feel as though that is the only way to go about making everything back to normal up there, there is one catch." Madeline could only nod, heart leaping into her throat. She anticipated what was coming.

"You have to be the one to do it." With that, George canceled the conversation.

Operations sat in the metal chair, head hanging low. His arms were restrained, IV's injected numerous times into the veins that lay beneath the pale skin. He awaited Madeline's arrival, sure that she would come. Hearing her footsteps outside of the door, Operations raised his head.

Madeline walked through the entrance dressed in a black suit, hair flowing freely down her shoulders. Her chocolate eyes beheld a sadness. "People change." Madeline reminded herself, "You aren't killing Paul. You are killing what Paul has become." Madeline took a seat beside Operations in a chair that had been placed there for this rare occasion. Staring into his eyes, she wondered what had destroyed him. Was it greed? Power? She wasn't sure. Maybe it had been her.

"You know I am not enjoying this." Madeline stated, looking away at the far wall. She could feel his eyes on her. Pleading with her.

"Then why?" He asked, prodding deeper into her opened wounds. That was like him. Never give up. Never rest.

"Because it is the right thing to do." Madeline told him, turning her eyes back to meet his.

"Goodbye Madeline." He said in finality, sighing and accepting his fate. Madeline closed her eyes and willed herself to be strong. She could do this.

"Goodbye Paul." She whispered, leaning over a placing a soft kiss on his forehead. With that she pressed a black button on the IV line, distributing a orange liquid into him. Seconds later he was dead. It had been painless.

Six Months Later

Michael's eyes shifted over the new recruit. She seemed to be hostile and scared. Well, Madeline would fix that. Or one of those things. It had been six months since Paul's death. Madeline had taken over being Operations for a time, following procedure.

Michael was being trained by her to take over the position and would be in three weeks. He had mixed feelings about that. Michael was determined not to turn cold and evil as Paul had. He would be better. He would make a difference in Section.

The End

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