The Section van turned off into the driveway of the estate. A metal entrance gate had already been pushed open forcefully by another vehicle. Michael ordered the driver to stop. Everybody needed to leave the van and approach the house on foot. When they were outside the van, Michael, using no words, moved his hand in a sweeping motion, indicating that the agents should fan out and approach the house stealthily.

Their objective was to pick up Richard Johnson and his wife. Mr. Johnson owned a company that was developing new computer chips and he had reported to his government that a terrorist group had been threatening his life and that of his wife to force him to deliver his top secret prototype to their hands. Fortunately, he lived in the same city as Section headquarters and Section was asked to monitor the situation and take appropriate action to protect Mr. Johnson and disband the enemy organization.

Tonight, Mr. Johnson had made a frantic call to police about prowlers and Birkoff, scanning their frequencies had alerted Operations that the terrorists were possibly moving more quickly than anticipated. Initial intelligence had reported that twenty to twenty-five heavily armed men were storming Johnson's compound. It was going down tonight. Birkoff had warned the police to stay away from a situation that was out of their expertise and Michael and his team had been immediately scrambled to pick up Mr. Johnson and his wife before their capture.

Within 100 feet of the house, gunfire broke out. The team scrambled for cover and using their skill and infra-red goggles, picked off the enemy one by one. The Section operatives had the advantage of the concealing darkness, but it still took time. Michael narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. Too much time. The enemy didn't seem to be attempting an escape or trying to enter the house.

"Birkoff, do we have thermal scans of the house available yet."

"I've got it now, Michael." A pause, then, "Michael, the house appears empty. No warm bodies." Michael's mouth tightened.

He spoke to the team over their receivers. "Johnson has been taken. Neutralize the grounds quickly." And with that, the agents understood that they didn't have to take care not to hit any innocents. They rushed the house spraying bullets at anything that moved in front of the house. Michael and Nikita cautiously approached the front entrance.

Michael, followed closely by Nikita entered the house past the front door that was hanging half off its hinges with dozens of splintered bullet holes marring its surface. Glass littered the floor and the front entry hall was in shambles from bullets and what appeared to be the remains of a struggle. Rugs were pushed up, tables were shattered and laying on their sides, as if someone had been taken prisoner and had resisted strenuously. Michael waved the operatives entering behind him to check the remaining rooms of the house. Nikita guessed at what they would find.

Nothing. Section was too late to prevent the capture of Johnson and his wife. The bodies of the terrorists on the mansion's grounds had been those who had been left to give the others time to leave with their target. The house was empty. And from the looks of it, Johnson had given them quite a fight, before being taken. When the team had arrived, the terrorists had left quickly with their prize and left behind enough men to mask their egress.

Nikita looked down the hall and saw Stuart kick in a locked door at the end of the hall.

"Michael, we need you in the back bedroom." Stuart whispered this in a hoarse, horrified voice. Nikita looked in puzzlement at Michael and together they swiftly ran down the hallway to the last room on the right. Nikita noticed, out of the corner of her eye, as they passed another room, decorated in bright colors with a crib, dressing table, and rocking chair. A baby's room?

Michael and Nikita burst into the room. Stuart and James blocked the entrance to the room. Michael and Nikita pushed their way past the seemingly paralyzed operatives. The scene was enough to make both of them stop frozen in their tracks. Stuart and James were staring at the woman who was lying on the bed, blood saturating the bedspread between her outspread thighs. Her eyes were closed and her chest did not appear to be moving. But what caught Nikita's attention was what the woman had cradled between her hands that were on her abdomen. A newborn baby, still attached to its mother by the umbilical cord. The woman had delivered the baby and then died, for the cord disappeared inside her body. The placenta had not had a chance to deliver. Michael and Nikita approached the bed. Michael moved to the woman's head and checked her pulse. He looked at Nikita and shook his head. Nikita's eyes dropped to the baby. It was so still. Fearing the worse, she reached out a finger and touched the skin of the baby's back. So cold. So tiny. Somewhat premature, maybe four pounds? Was it dead too? Please God, no.

With her touch, the baby jerked spasmodically. Alive! It was still alive. Without thinking, Nikita knew she had precious little time to waste. She quickly removed the mother's cold hands and turned the baby onto its back on her mother's abdomen. Nikita saw the little chest trying feebly to rise up and down. The newborn shivered convulsively. Oh no, Nikita thought, she's so weak and she feels so cold.

"Baby girl, we've got to get you warmed up." Nikita now spoke directly to the infant that she had identified as a girl. Michael and the other operatives disappeared into the background in Nikita's mind. Nikita ripped the tie from her hair and, kinking the cord together, used the tie to bind it off tightly a few inches from the belly of the newborn. Removing her knife from the side of her pants, Nikita quickly cut the cord. Later on, she would wonder at the ease at which she would automatically perform this task. She had thought of nothing but saving this little innocent's life. Nobody could have stopped her. Nobody.

Michael, Stuart, and James were standing still in their original positions. Michael, understanding what drove Nikita and trying to give Nikita the time to follow through with saving the infant, was listening to reports from the team outside the residence. The situation had been contained. But, they had been too late. Richard Johnson had been taken. The team had been engaged long enough for the terrorists to remove Johnson. But, they didn't have time to take his wife. They would have wanted her too. She and the child she carried would have been the perfect bargaining chips in coercing Johnson to do their bidding. Realizing this, Johnson fought valiantly, based on the destruction Michael had observed in the house and grounds and had bought her enough time until Section had arrived.

Stuart and James were watching Nikita with the infant. Even battle hardened warriors were softened by the sight of an infant, born so rudely in the middle of such ugliness, and still fighting for its own life. They both wanted to see this little life survive at any costs. Michael mused to himself that they might have shot him if he had ordered Nikita to abandon the child. Not that she would have listened.

Nikita paused for a second to think and decided her next course of action. The three men were stunned to see her stand up, remove her jacket, and peel off her sweater. Her pale breasts gleamed in the light and her nipples hardened instantly in the cool air. Nikita then replaced her jacket. In the next instant, she had gently picked up the incredibly small body of the newborn and placed it on her own chest. She picked up her sweater and placed it over the baby. Holding the child to her chest with one hand, she awkwardly wrapped the ends of her jacket over the sweater and baby. Holding the baby with the one hand again, this time over the outside of her jacket, she checked with her other hand to make sure that the little mouth and nose had a clear airway down inside the warm nest she had made. Looking down at the mother, she seemed to be saying something in her thoughts to her.

I've done everything I can do here for your daughter. I'm sorry. So, so sorry that you couldn't have lived to care for her yourself, to love her. But, you gave her the best chance you could. Rest now, little mother. You did what you were able to. Nikita silently said goodbye to this courageous woman. Then she turned to Michael.

"We need to get the baby back to Section. Can we leave now?" Michael was struck with admiration for Nikita's composure. He had already advised Operations about the birth of the infant and was told to bring the child in. He nodded, not sure he could speak. Motioning to Stuart and James to leave the room and proceed him, he followed Nikita from the room.

****

On the ride back to Section, Nikita sat quietly with her head bent over the infant cradled inside her jacket. Michael sat silently and watched Nikita intently. This was something he had never expected when they had scrambled for this mission. They had not known that Mrs. Johnson was pregnant and that a live infant could be involved.

Michael spoke softly to Nikita, "Is it still alive?" Nikita looked up with tears in her eyes. Oh no, Michael thought, she's becoming too emotionally attached to the infant.

All the men in the van listened for her answer. Even Birkoff turned from his computer console and waited to hear what was the status of the tiny infant inside Nikita's jacket.

Nikita spoke quietly, but calmly, "Now that she's warmed up a bit, she's squirming around." Nikita smiled slightly as she readjusted her hands over the bundle pressed to her chest. "She's a little fighter. I think she's hungry though." Nikita could feel the baby rooting with her lips on Nikita's chest. Poor little thing, she thought again. I don't have what you need, little one. Nikita looked up at Michael.

"They probably don't have supplies at Section for a baby. Am I right?" Michael shook his head and looked at Birkoff. With the understanding that years of working together had given them, Birkoff understood Michael's unspoken command and he opened a channel to Section, updating them on the infant's condition and advising them that infant supplies, food and clothing, would be required. The rest of the ride back was in silence, broken only by Nikita's whispers to the child and soft, broken cries coming from inside her jacket. Some of the men smiled slightly to hear the sounds of the baby. Michael just stared at Nikita and worried about her.

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

When the van reached Section and the team moved into the hallway, they were met by a team of technicians from MedLab with a gurney. The techs surrounded Nikita and demanded the infant. Nikita paused and with a pained expression on her face, surrendered the baby to the men. When she opened her jacket and removed the baby, they peeled her sweater from the baby and handed it back to Nikita. She was worried and let it show on her face. They placed the baby on the gurney and covered her with a blanket, like they would cover an adult.

"Be careful with her." Nikita tried to instruct them. "Keep her warm. She needs to be washed and fed as soon as possible." The techs looked at her with their blank faces and didn't deem it necessary to answer her concerns. Nikita watched as they wheeled the gurney down the hall and out of her sight. Her arms felt so empty. Her chest felt so cold without the small infant cradled there. Michael stood at her side and studied her face. She seemed lost in thought and unaware that her jacket hung open over her bare chest. She held her sweater down at her side.

"Nikita." Michael tried to get her attention. "Nikita, look at me." Nikita finally looked up at him with haunted eyes.

"She was getting warmer and moving against me, Michael.... Will they take good care of her?" Nikita looked for reassurance. Michael had resolved never to lie to her unnecessarily and he gave her an honest answer now.

"I don't know if they will. You can check on her when you get cleaned up and debriefed." Nikita found some logic to this suggestion and she moved away with him towards the showers. She finally pulled her jacket shut tight around her body and hugged her arms to herself. Michael was worried about the vacant, lost look in her eyes. At the showers, he placed a hand on her arm to stop her from entering the shower room.

"Are you going to be okay?" She seemed startled by the question and finally, he saw some return of life to her eyes. She smiled at his concern.

"I'll be fine, Michael. You worry too much about me." She allowed herself to caress his cheek briefly. "I'll see you in a half an hour for debriefing. And I assume we'll be trying to find Mr. Johnson and attempt some kind of rescue?"

Michael answered slowly, "Yes, Birkoff is already tracking down leads. We should have some solid plans within 24 hours."

"Poor man. He doesn't even know that he has lost his wife. He doesn't even know that he has a daughter." And with that comment, Nikita turned and pushed her way through the door. Michael watched her enter the shower room and for a few moments afterward he stared at the door, contemplating Nikita's reaction. He had expected more of a struggle within her between her concern for the child and her Section responsibilities. He thoughtfully turned and went into the men's shower room.

****

Nikita stood in the privacy of the shower stall with tears running down her face from her eyes. She repeated to herself over and over again 'I must be strong. I mustn't disappoint Michael.' She drew deep breaths into her lungs to contain the emotions coursing through her mind and heart. Finally, with her emotions literally hurting in her chest, she succumbed to the trauma of the last few hours and she sank to a sitting position in the shower with her knees drawn up to her body. She curled into a tight ball and allowed her emotions to surface. She needed to deal with them openly in her mind.

She cried for the dead mother of the baby girl. Nikita cried for the father and prayed for his safety. Remembering the fully decorated baby's room in the house, she knew that their baby's arrival had been eagerly and lovingly anticipated.

Nikita looked down at her hands and chest and remembered the feeling of the returning life of the baby. How she had responded to Nikita's warmth and had rooted against her chest. Strong feelings of loss swept over Nikita. She had never held a newborn to her body. It had triggered memories of her dreams when she was young and innocent. How much she had yearned for her own child. A soft, sweet smelling baby born of the passion between her and the love of her life.

Nikita finally cried for herself. For her own lost dreams and the babies she would never personally have. When Nikita had cried all the tears she had inside, she raised her face to the water stream and let the warm water cleanse the tears from her face. She stood, breathed deeply and found her strength again. Nikita felt drained, yet the tears had released her tension. She straightened her back and reached for the soap. She would be late for her debriefing and Michael would be worried. She was determined not to let him see her weakness. He needed her strength to maintain his own.

*****

Michael studied Nikita's face as she stared at the monitor on his desk. She sat in his chair and he leaned over her back to discuss the intel that Birkoff was feeding Michael's screen. He was still concerned about Nikita, but he didn't have any grounds for it. She discussed possibilities of Johnson's location and she sounded controlled and focused. He wondered why he didn't take her attitude at face value. He wasn't disappointed in her behavior. It just seemed out of character for what he thought her reaction would be. Had she changed so much or was she getting better at hiding her thoughts and feelings from him? This latter thought disturbed him.

Nikita was purposefully keeping her emotions banked down. Only by keeping her thoughts away from the baby in MedLab could she function as the cold operative that Section demanded. Above all, she wanted to be strong for Michael and prove to him that she could be what he needed here and in their other existence outside of Section. Michael pointed out to Nikita, "We need to talk to Donovan, our contact in their region. He may have some information we could use."

Nikita nodded, "I'll take the meet. I've talked to him before. He knows me already." Michael considered her words and nodded.

"Be careful and wear an open mike. I want to monitor the meeting." Nikita rose in preparation for leaving Section. She needed to see Walter for equipment and arrange for transport. Michael spoke as she reached the door.

"Have you checked on the infant?" Nikita stopped in her tracks and answered without turning around.

"No, I'm sure she's fine. I have to go." And she moved quickly out the door. Michael dropped his head to his chin and considered his new suspicions. She was feeling things very deeply, but controlling herself and trying very hard to perform her duties without excess emotionalism. Michael's heart ached for the woman he loved. And he fell even deeper in love in that moment because he finally realized that she was finding the strength to deal with her pain because she didn't want to add to his own.

*****

Nikita handled the meeting well with Donovan and received invaluable information as to Johnson's whereabouts. She headed back towards Section, knowing that the wheels were already turning rapidly for a rescue plan for Mr. Johnson. Donovan had reported that Johnson was alive and being pressured to release the security codes for his company's computer system. He needed to be rescued as soon as possible before he broke or before the terrorists suspected that their location had been leaked to Section.

When she arrived back in Section, she met up with Michael and the rest of the team in the command center.

Birkoff spoke, "This is our location." He indicated a map on the screen. "We believe Mr. Johnson is being held in the offices located in the center of this abandoned warehouse." He went on to detail the plan that had already been mapped out to ensure the best possible chances for Mr. Johnson's survival. Nikita focused on her designation on the screen and absorbed her role in the maneuvers.

Her concentration was broken when Madeline appeared at her side. Nikita looked up into Madeline's face.

Madeline spoke to Michael, "Pull Nikita off the team. We may need her in another capacity here in the Section." Nikita's eyes reflected her puzzlement and she followed Madeline down the hall. Michael didn't miss a beat and reassigned another agent to Nikita's position. He briefly wondered what the other assignment was, then ruthlessly forced his concentration back to the mission at hand.

*****

Nikita stiffened when she realized that she and Madeline were headed for MedLab. Madeline spoke to her as they reached the door and stopped.

"Nikita, your actions in the field to save the infant were quick and decisive. May I assume that you may know something about infants and their care?" Madeline studied Nikita's face with interest and waited for her answer.

Nikita answered cautiously, "I know some stuff." She shrugged. "But, I'm not an expert or anything." And in typical Nikita fashion, she wanted to know instantly what was going on. "Why am I here, Madeline?"

Madeline answered matter-of-factly, "The infant is losing ground from her arrival in Section. She is not keeping food down, she is getting weaker. I thought that maybe you might have some insights into what we could do to help her."

Nikita looked up at Madeline and Madeline instantly saw the fear in Nikita's eyes. "Why don't you get some professional advice from above? Doesn't anybody else down here know what to do?" Nikita took a step backwards, as if preparing to flee in the opposite direction.

"You're here and you'll try to help first. I think you may know what to do." Madeline laid her hand on Nikita's shoulder and added gently, "Try to help her, Nikita. She needs you again." Nikita nodded her head slowly and turned to reluctantly enter MedLab.

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

Nikita immediately looked around for Dr. Pierce. She asked the technician waiting to take her to the infant, "Where is Dr. Pierce? Isn't he taking care of the baby?"

The technician answered, "No, he's in the London subsection reviewing his new Trauma Procedure Guide with their physicians. Dr. Wilkins is in charge of the infant's care." Nikita grimaced inwardly. Cold bastard. She had always disliked him. He seemed to epitomize all the lack of concern for operatives' lives that Section stood for.

Nikita moved to the room that the technician indicated. Inside, she found Dr. Wilkins examining a medical chart with another tech. Nikita looked around for the baby. There was a standard medical bed in the middle of the room and Nikita finally saw the still little form looking lost in the center of the large bed. Nikita approached and felt her heart lurch in her chest at the little baby's condition.

It was pathetic to see. Her eyes were closed and appeared more sunken than when Nikita had seen her last. She lay limply under the blanket pulled up to her chin and the blanket over her chest rose slightly in fits and starts with her ragged breathing. She had seriously gone downhill in the 24 hours since Nikita had seen her last. Nikita heard Dr. Wilkins ordering an IV and the tech responding that they didn't have needles small enough for the infant's veins. Nikita tried to focus her thoughts on helping the baby.

She needed answers first. "What have you been trying to feed her?" Dr. Wilkins paused and looked coldly at Nikita.

He answered, although reluctantly. Madeline had ordered his full cooperation with Nikita and he was incensed at having to deal with a layperson. "Formula," he told her concisely.

"What kind?" The doctor looked at her incredulously.

"Baby formula. Something standard that was brought down."

Nikita controlled her hostile reaction to his condescension and continued, "Have you considered that she may be allergic to that particular formula? There are many different kinds, maybe we should try something new?"

The doctor shrugged, "I guess we could try something else." Nikita took a deep breath and continued her evaluation.

Nikita flipped back the blanket and bit back her sob when she saw the condition of the baby's little body. Her little belly was concave and her legs and arms were limp. Red splotches covered her chest and limbs and Nikita looked up at the doctor.

"Was she given a bath when she was brought in?"

"Of course."

"What did you use on her skin? It looks horrible."

"Standard issue anti-bacterial liquid soap." Nikita winced. Of all the soaps to use, they had used that crap. It stung her own skin to use it. It must have stripped every bit of natural oil from the baby's skin and was entirely too harsh.

Nikita noticed the disposable diaper, but the baby wore no other clothing. Nikita turned to a technician and demanded a piece of paper. She wrote furiously and handed the list to the tech.

"I want these supplies within an hour. Move it." The man heard the pure steel in her voice and almost ran from the room in his haste to follow her orders. This was a cold operative, after all. A dangerous breed when crossed.

*****

While waiting for the supplies, Nikita had repeated her lifesaving technique of placing the baby against her own skin and giving her warmth and human contact. She opened her shirt and placed the baby against her chest. Nikita rubbed her back and crooned meaningless nothings in her ears.

"Hang on, little one. We'll get you all fixed up. You know, with all that pretty dark hair and sweet eyes, you will look so precious when we get some new clothes for you." Nikita thought for a moment and continued, "You need a name, sweetheart. I know your mommy and daddy probably had one all picked out, so we'll just call you.....Hope. I've always loved that name and all it symbolized about babies. Hmmm? Do you like that name? Hope?" Nikita kissed the soft skin of the baby's forehead and was heartened to feel some movement in her limbs.

"That's it, Hope. Come back to us." Nikita continued her one-way dialogue with Hope and waited for the tech to return with the supplies. He has ten more minutes, Nikita thought. Any longer and I'll nail his butt to the wall. Nikita felt fierce with her protectiveness of her little charge.

In seven minutes, the tech skidded into the room clutching a large bag from a local discount store. Nikita held the baby with one hand and looked through the supplies with the other. She removed the requested can of formula and baby bottle and new package of nipples. She glared at the tech as he seemed to be backing out of the room.

"Where do you think you are going? Take this bottle and nipples and boil them quickly. The formula is premixed, but warm it slightly and fill the bottle. Bring it back to me immediately." The young man grabbed the items and ran from the room.

Nikita spotted a sink across the room. "While we're waiting, Hope, let's try to get you more comfortable. We have some nice gentle baby soap and soothing lotion. And the nice man brought you some pretty sleepers and new blankets." Nikita kept speaking to Hope as, with one hand, she plugged the sink, padded the bottom with two towels and ran warm water over the towels. Nikita returned to the bed and removed Hope's diaper. Picking her nude limp body back up, Nikita grabbed the soap and returned to the sink. Testing the water and finding it comfortably warm, she lowered Hope into the water and quickly washed her skin and hair with the soap, all the time keeping up the nonsense chatter. Nikita was pleased to see Hope's legs and arms start to move and she saw movement under the tiny girl's closed eyes.

Finishing quickly, Nikita grabbed another towel and removed Hope from the water. Carrying her back to the bed, Nikita quickly dried her skin and gently rubbed her hair. It fluffed up and felt very silky to Nikita's fingers. She quickly smoothed lotion over Hope's body and dressed her warmly in a new diaper, t-shirt, and sleeper. Finishing up, Nikita wrapped her tightly in a receiving blanket. Nikita cradled Hope to her chest and looked around impatiently for the tech to return with the bottle. With fortuitous timing, he returned to the room with the bottle filled with formula.

Nikita took the bottle and felt its warmness in her palm. Just to be on the safe side, she handed the baby quickly to the tech and tested the formula against her wrist. Good, not too hot. Just warm enough. She took Hope back and teased her lips with the smaller nipples that she had ordered.

"Come on, Hope. Try this. It's good, sweetheart." Nikita pushed the nipple into the baby's mouth. The tech stared in amazement at Nikita's gentle and sweet tone with the baby. After a few moments, Nikita could have cried with relief. Hope had started sucking on the nipple! Feebly, not vigorously, but still, she was trying to feed. Within a few minutes, Hope seemed to be stronger and she pulled with more strength on the nipple.

"Yes, sweet Hope, you were hungry, weren't you? This stuff should stay down a lot better." Nikita held the baby securely and pressed kisses on her forehead. Was it possible? Was her color already starting to improve? The baby fed for only a few minutes more and seemed to be exhausted by the effort. The nipple dropped from her mouth. Nikita looked at the markings on the side of the bottle and was satisfied with this first effort. Two ounces. Not bad for a four pound baby. And if this stays down, she'll be back for more soon enough.

Nikita dismissed the nervous tech and walked around the room with the sleeping baby and flipped the blanket up to cover her head. Now, it was just a matter of time to see if Hope responded to her care. Nikita cradled Hope to her chest and softly sang her favorite Lion King song.

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

Five days later, Michael entered the van access with the rest of the team and the stretcher bearing Mr. Johnson. His rescue had been successfully completed the first day, but upon the cracking of the terrorists' computer system, the team had spent the next few days rounding up and destroying the last remaining cells of their group. Mr. Johnson had been severely beaten, but this group didn't seem to have the sophistication of some that would have used drug therapy or electric shock. Johnson had told them nothing of importance and would recover fully, in time. He had been kept in isolation, except for medical technicians, to limit his exposure to Section personnel. Mr. Johnson had seemed to understand that he should only answer their questions and not ask any of his own to ensure his own safety. Michael felt confident that Madeline would recommend Johnson's release along with his daughter.

The sedated man was quickly moved to another isolation room and Michael went to Madeline's office to make his report. Operations was there along with Madeline and after listening to everything that Michael had to say about the mission and Johnson's lack of contact or knowledge about Section, Operations exchanged a look with Madeline and then nodded.

"We agree, Michael. Return his child to him and arrange for his release." Operations gave one more look to Madeline and he left the room.

Madeline spoke, "Very good job, Michael. I'll ask Nikita to return the infant to his father and..."

Michael interrupted her, "Nikita? What has been her assignment these last five days?" Michael already had a sinking feeling he knew, but none of his emotions or thoughts appeared on his smooth face.

"The infant was failing to thrive in MedLab and I asked Nikita to take over the child's care." Michael stared at Madeline and chose his next words carefully.

"Madeline, you have seen Nikita's psych report, as I have." He left it there.

"I assume you are talking about the concerns that she could develop a strong maternal drive that could possibly reduce her effectiveness as a cold operative." Madeline considered this for a second and went on, "Actually, I don't believe you conquer a problem by ignoring it. I was also interested to see how Nikita will handle the coming separation from the child."

Michael used all his powers to keep his face expressionless, although his guts were churning. Only Madeline and Section would consider a strong maternal drive a problem to overcome. Sometimes the unreality of this place stunned even Michael. Another test for Nikita. Michael felt an immediate urge to leave Madeline's presence before he said anything that could reveal his thoughts. And he wanted to find Nikita first and find out the severity of the 'problem' before Madeline had a chance to talk to her.

"I'll go inform Nikita." Madeline's mouth turned up slightly. She wasn't fooled, but she'd give him this allowance. She nodded and watched Michael swiftly exit her office. She had come close there to cracking his shell, she thought. She didn't know how she knew, but she did.

*****

Michael found Nikita in her quarters after checking in MedLab. Kevin, a technician that Nikita appeared to had terrorized into being her helper, asked Michael to take the child's next bottle to Nikita. Michael's eyebrow lifted slightly. Nikita had the tech more afraid of her than of Michael, for the man to approach Michael with such a mundane request. Michael took the bottle silently and left the room.

At Nikita's door, he quietly pushed it open. Nikita's room was darkened and, as his eyes adjusted, he saw her on the bed, a wrapped bundle on her chest. Both appeared to be sleeping soundly. Michael approached the bedside and stared down at the pair. His heart ached for what he had to tell her and what her reaction may be. With the uncanny awareness that she seemed to have whenever he was in her immediate area, her eyes lifted slowly and locked with his.

She smiled, "Michael." He sat down by her side and showed her the bottle. "Oh good, Hope will be awake soon and she gets very impatient if her meal isn't ready to go instantly." Nikita wore soft, faded jeans and a low neck, short sleeve top with a few buttons undone. Enough for the baby to lay her head over Nikita's heart and hear the reassuring beats. Nikita noticed his gaze shift to take all this in. "She sleeps better when she hears my heart, so I have been spoiling her by letting her sleep on top of me." Michael and Nikita's eyes met in sensual understanding. Michael had spent a few nights sleeping on top of Nikita also.

Michael's smile faded and he prepared to tell her that Hope's (?) father had been returned to Section and was anxiously awaiting his first view of his daughter. Nikita noticed the return of Michael's somber look. She guessed the reason and beat him to the punch.

Nikita whispered to Michael, "You brought back her father, didn't you?" Michael nodded. "He wants his baby, doesn't he?" Michael again nodded slowly. Nikita's eyes dropped to the adorable baby that was now beginning to show signs of awaking: precious stretching movement allowed a small fist to be released from her blanket and the baby shoved the fist in her mouth and started chewing and sucking on it. Nikita sat up, holding the baby to her chest, and lowered her to a cradled position in her arms. The baby girl started emitting squeaks and coos, that rapidly began increasing in volume and frequency.

"Hand me the bottle, please." Michael placed the bottle in Nikita's hands and watched as she expertly placed the nipple in Hope's mouth. The child latched on furiously, as if starving, and Nikita smiled fondly. "Little piglet," she murmured, "when she started eating for me, she became an eating machine." Nikita's eyes closed in pain and her smile faded.

Michael waited for her next words and mentally prepared himself on how to convince her that there was no way she could ever keep this child or even keep in contact with it, after she was placed back with her father. She spoke to Michel before he could say a word.

"Hope's father, is he a good man?" She trusted Michael's impressions and knew he wouldn't lie to her about this.

Michael answered her, honestly, as he had personally debriefed the man and had seen his grief over losing his wife, followed by his joy at knowing that a small part of her had survived. "Yes, he is." It was enough to satisfy Nikita.

She spoke to the child, "Well, Hope, finish up and I'll take you to meet your daddy." Michael was stunned at the announcement. Nikita looked up at him, with tears in her eyes, and noticed his reaction.

"I've had a lot of time to think about things, while she has been sleeping." Nikita paused to gain her composure. She continued, "And I thought to myself, should I deny myself the incredible joy of caring for this little baby, just because our time together would be limited?" Nikita gazed directly into Michael's eyes, "should we deny ourselves any happiness because of what the future could bring?" Nikita managed a crooked smile, "You taught me this, Michael, when you found the courage to attempt this rocky relationship with me. Could I show any less courage now, when it is the right thing to give Hope back to her father?"

Michael was overcome with so many emotions, but he verbalized the main thought in his head, "I'm proud of you."

Nikita looked stunned and whispered, "You've never said that to me before." The tears overflowed her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. Michael carefully pulled her and the baby into his embrace and leaned his head over to place his cheek on her forehead.

"I should have." And he leaned back, when Hope squirmed in disapproval of being squeezed and having her mealtime disrupted. Michael smiled and smoothed a hand over the silky hair on her head. "She's beautiful." Michael looked into Nikita's eyes. "You're beautiful." And Nikita smiled and finished feeding Hope for the last time.

*****

Michael asked Nikita at the door to the isolation room where Richard Johnson had been placed, "Do you want me to come in?"

Nikita shook her head, "No, I don't want this to take long. Can we go home afterwards?" Michael had already gotten clearance from Madeline to finish his reports in the morning.

"Yes we can." Nikita nodded and pushed the door open and entered the room.

At her entrance, Mr. Johnson stiffened and watched intently as she walked towards him, obviously holding an infant wrapped in a soft receiving blanket. His eyes expressed his emotions, as they teared and cautious delight filled his whole face.

"Is that....," he was overcome with his feelings, "is that my daughter?" He finished with a whisper. Nikita read people well and she knew that Hope had a fine father and would be loved all the days of his life.

Nikita walked up to his bedside. "Yes, this is your daughter. I've been calling her Hope." And Johnson's eyes met Nikita's and he realized that this fragile looking, beautiful woman had been a major part of his daughter's life, so far, and possibly a major reason for her survival. He looked again at the baby.

"May I hold her?"

Nikita managed a smile. "Of course, you're her daddy. She likes to be held on your chest, resting over your heart." And with that, Nikita laid the baby face down over her father's heart and watched his arms come around to fold over her precious body. Johnson's face filled with wonder, yet sadness for the wife that would never hold her daughter in her own arms. Nikita turned to go to give them more privacy and to escape with her own tattered emotions.

"Wait." She turned back at the door at Johnson's request. "Thank you," he whispered in a heartfelt way. "Hope will know that she was loved from the very beginning of her life." Nikita's heart was breaking, but she managed a whisper before she went out the door."

"I know she will."

Outside the room, she walked into Michael's tight embrace. At this point, he didn't care who saw them holding each other. Thankfully, the only witness was a silent camera in the hallway. Madeline turned the monitor off and smiled slightly before she turned back to her own work.

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

Michael stopped on the way home to try to get some dinner into Nikita. She had been very quiet since leaving Section. Nikita had gazed out his car window, deep in thought. Michael didn't intrude on her introspection.

Michael chose Nikita's favorite deli. She exited the car without speaking and allowed Michael to escort her into the deli. The wonderful warm smells of lean sliced meats, cheeses and freshly baked bread filled their noses as they walked through the door. Without speaking, Michael indicated the menu behind the counter and the waiting employee. Nikita shrugged her shoulders. Michael looked towards a table and Nikita silently walked over to it and sat down. Michael ordered her favorite, chicken salad on wheat and fruit salad, and his own favorite, pastrami and swiss on rye. He asked for coffee for himself and an iced tea for Nikita. Paying for the meal, he glanced over at Nikita and tried to understand her mood. It wasn't a depression. She certainly wasn't cheerful. She just seemed to be very absorbed in her thoughts.

Carrying the food over to their table, Michael distributed their meals. Nikita smiled her thanks briefly and they both applied themselves to their sandwiches. Nikita didn't speak and Michael didn't feel inclined to fill the silence, so they ate quietly. Nikita offered Michael a bite of her fruit salad and he held her hand and bit the fruit off her fork. This caused a reaction in Nikita. Her eyes flared wider and a connection was finally established between the two. She came back from wherever she had gone in her mind, and now her attention was solely on Michael. She smiled and Michael felt a sense of relief flooding his body.

Silently, they finished their meals, holding each other's gazes as much as possible. Michael drove them back to Nikita's apartment and they entered quietly. Michael hung up their coats and saw that Nikita had walked on and up into her bedroom. Michael turned off the lights in the entry way and followed her.

In the bedroom, Nikita stood in the center of the room and waited for Michael. Without a word, she stepped into his opened arms. He held her tightly for a few moments and then, in unison, their lips found each other in a deep, soul shattering kiss. With the familiarity born of numerous lovemaking sessions, they lovingly and unhurriedly undressed each other. When they were both nude, Michael led Nikita to her bed and made soft, sweet love to her, cherishing her and showing her with his touch and mouth, all the words that he had never said aloud. In return, Nikita blossomed under his touch, showing him with her sighs and twisting movements, just how fulfilled he made her feel as his woman. When she tried to return his caresses, Michael caught her hands and indicated that he wanted it to be just about her tonight. When he slid home within her, their eyes locked and Michael stayed still to savor the moment of their intimacy. When the sensations became urgent, Michael brought them both to an earth-shattering climax. Soft kisses and smiles were exchanged, but Nikita was exhausted and she fell asleep underneath Michael. He turned her to the side to relieve her of his full weight and he drifted off, secure in the knowledge that Nikita had come through this emotional crisis without any permanent damage. What he hadn't anticipated was his own latent reaction to the small baby named Hope.

*****

Michael awoke, or thought he awoke, still entwined with Nikita. He looked around but didn't recognize the room he was in. Michael looked down at Nikita. She lay in his arms, still joined with him, and a soft smile was on her lips and her eyes were closed. Michael's hands traveled the length of her back and she finally spoke, "It's better every time, my love." Her vivid blue eyes opened and she smiled lovingly into his. Michael couldn't resist leaning down and giving her lips a soft kiss. He was startled to feel the return of arousal and his kiss became more demanding. Before he could go any further, an infant's cry was heard and, puzzled, his head turned toward the sound. A set of french doors led to another room and the source of the cries.

Nikita giggled, "She has got the most rotten timing. Would you go get her for me?" Michael disengaged himself from Nikita's body and left the bed in a daze. In the nude, he walked over to the doors and opened them. Inside the next room was a nursery and when he approached the crib, with its lacy bedding and a whimsical mobile hanging overhead, he was stunned to see a beautiful baby girl inside the crib, making her displeasure at her parent's tardiness known in increasingly louder cries. She wore a soft pink sleeper and her reddish dark hair was silky looking and combed up to the top of her head in a loose curl. When she saw Michael, her anger disappeared and her delight in his presence manifested itself in vigorous leg pumps and waving arms. She cooed up at Michael and gave him a huge toothless grin and her blue eyes, Nikita's eyes!, sparkled up at him.

Michael heard Nikita from the room behind her, "Michael, don't start playing with Marie or we'll never get her back to sleep tonight!" Marie! His mother's name, Michael noted. Michael reached into the crib and lifted the slight weight of the baby and cradled her to his chest. She was soft and smelled so sweet and her fingers found his hair and tugged on it. He carried her back into the bedroom and found that Nikita had sat up and was reaching for the baby, in preparation for feeding her.

Her breasts were plumper, he noticed, and blue veins could be seen running just under the creamy surface of her skin. When the baby saw her mother, her good humor disappeared and she almost dove into Nikita's arms. Michael stood silently by the bed and watched the baby latch onto Nikita's nipple and start to feed furiously. Nikita had a serene expression on her face when she looked up at Michael and smiled.

"Aren't you going to come back to bed, Michael?" Michael slid into the bed next to Nikita and carefully moved her body into his arms as he sat beside her. He watched the baby nursing over Nikita's shoulder and he couldn't resist taking a finger and touching the soft surface of her breast and then the equally soft cheek of the baby. Marie smiled up at him momentarily, milk dripping from her mouth, before the delights of her mother's breast recaptured her attention. Michael couldn't remember ever feeling this kind of contentment and happiness and his arms tightened around Nikita.

Nikita tipped her head back and met Michael's eyes. "We found our way, Michael. We did it." How, he wanted to ask, how did we manage this? But, as he watched, Nikita and Marie seemed to drift away from him and their faces became indistinct until they disappeared entirely out of his arms. Michael looked down at his empty arms and an agony filled his being. No! No! Come back to me!

*****

Michael awoke in Nikita's bedroom and felt an immediate disorientation from his vivid dream. His mind stunned from the intense dream he had experienced, his arms tightened around Nikita. And for the rest of the night, he stared into the shadowy corners of the bedroom until the dawn lit the room with its pink glow.

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