written by Tammy
Chapter 13
"So tell me what you think." Michael sounded like a eager little boy as he flopped down on the bed. He grabbed the manila folder from her knees and tucked it under his chest as he looked expectantly up at her.
With a sigh, Nikita leaned her head back against the headboard. "Don't wrinkle that record. I need it for a parent/child session tomorrow."
"Don't worry. It's safe and sound right where it's tucked. Come on tell me what you think of it. I want your honest opinion. This is going to work, right?"
"I don't know a lot about art. That's your department." Nikita reached behind her head and pulled the ponytail holder out of her hair. She started playing with it for a moment and then shrugged. "I guess it will. I really don't know." she answered with a shake of her head.
"You don't need to know about art." Michael moved around so that his feet were on either side of her hips. He grabbed her calves and brought her legs around his waist. Restless and seemingly nervous, he unconsciously started to tap a finger on each of her thighs.
Annoyed with his relentless questions and restlessness, she smacked both of his hands. "You are a pain tonight!"
"I'm anxious. This is big and I want to make sure I'm doing the right thing." He leaned back on both hands and the fingers resumed their drumming on the mattress. "I've always stuck to paintings and sketch work at the gallery. But with the new addition, I want different things. Sculpture was a given. I needed to get that in anyway, people were asking for it. However a showcase section that focuses on one artist at a time and then this whole idea of the having the artist in a studio like set actually working on the piece of artwork.....being able to see the creative process and the agony or joy that can go with it. Do you get what I'm trying to say?"
Pulling her knees back towards her, Nikita got up on them and leaned close to him. "Read my lips and look deeply into my eyes, my darling....DO IT!!! Everything you have done with that place has been a wild success. Why do you think this is going to be different?" She gave him a quick kiss that he returned.
He grinned at her, "The Russian accent still needs help." Then his expression got serious again. "Because this is different. After seeing it in that small hole in the wall in Paris when we were there last year....I couldn't stop thinking about it. Especially when the building next door went on the market. But now that I'm so close to having it done, I'm getting nervous about it. I need some reassurance..." He leaned back further as Nikita got closer. "What are you up to? And what is the gleam in your eyes for?"
"First you mentioned us being in Paris last year and you know how much we enjoyed ourselves there...."
"I enjoyed you there..." Michael tried to kiss her but she placed a finger in between their mouths.
"AND you're very restless which means a lot of pent up energy. You need to work it off. And you want reassurance too....only one thing we can do to take care of a poor soul like you." She gave him a look of mock pity.
A huge smile broke out across Michael's face. He sat up straighter and wrap his arms around her, drawing her in closer. "You think you have the stamina to get rid of my 'pent up energy'?"
"Have I ever failed you before?" Nikita asked him huskily. She bowed her head and they slowly kissed. She relaxed into him. Slipping a hand down her back, Michael found the bottom of her nightgown and slunk it underneath. Breaking the kiss, he began to nibble along her jawline to her throat. Nikita leaned her head back, exposing more of her throat to his mouth.
Slowly Michael moved up his hand up along her thigh, hip and then ribcage. "Certainly not in Paris...." he murmured as he nuzzled her neck. Closing her eyes with a small moan, Nikita chewed lightly on her lower lip as his hand moved higher.
Michael gave a groan as a small voice broke the intimacy. "Mommy, Daddy? Wake?" Reese finished climbing up the stairs from the library and stood expectantly at the foot of the bed with a book in his hands.
With a muffled sigh, Michael dropped down onto the mattress and looked at the boy upside down. "Yeah, Pieces....what's wrong?"
A triumphant smile brightened his face as Reese tossed the book onto the bed and climbed up. He leaned over Michael and touched him nose to nose. "Not sleeping in my bed. Monsters again." Michael reached over his head and grabbed Reese around the waist. Gently he flipped Reese over his head and laid him down on his chest. Giggling, Reese sat up and scrambled off Michael to Nikita's outstretched arms. He curled up in her lap, a content look on his face.
Nikita kissed him lightly on top of the head. "Did you them to go home? It's late and they should be in their own beds."
Reese looked up at her. "Did Mommy. Blue likes my bed. His is yucky. Wants to stay so no room for Reese. But room here for me." He stuck his thumb in his mouth and laid his head against Nikita's chest. She looked over at Michael and mouthed a sorry to him as he moved around so he could sit next to her. Together they leaned back against the head board.
"Why is his bed yucky?" Michael asked as he pulled the covers up and snagged the book from the end of the bed.
"Bone crumbs."
"Bone crumbs?" Nikita shot a look over at Michael who shrugged at her. Reese's answer made no sense to him either.
"Doggie bones. Blue and Red like them. They were snacking...watching TV. "
"Oh." Nikita and Michael said in unison. He rolled his eyes at Reese's imagination. Nikita laughed softly. Reese's head never stopped. Either he was thinking up some dastardly deed or talking out loud. The stories he could weave at his age were something. He'd been telling a story he had made up almost every day since he had learned to talk according to Katie. She usually got the first telling, sometimes in the middle of the night which had a tendency to make her rather grouchy in the morning. One didn't say no to Reese.
"Daddy, read me and Mommy my new book?"
Michael flipped it over to look at the cover. "Simon Says... where'd you get this kiddo?"
"Uncle Si...need to read to CJ after you read to me." Reese announced around his thumb. "Not long.... please Daddy."
"Yes, please Daddy." Nikita chimed in, a grin on her face. Reese giggled. "Stories work out pent up energy too." she said coyly.
He made a face at her as he opened the book and began to read. "Did you ever wonder where the game of Simon Says got its name? Well it happened a long time ago. In a small village in the far away land of Huxfordom, there was a boy named Simon. Now Simon was a good boy except for one BIG thing. Simon was very bossy. And everyone in town...."
Nikita closed her eyes and leaned her head against Michael's shoulder as he continued reading. A smile that was happy and content firmly in place on her lips. This is how life is suppose to be. I'm glad I'm living it.
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Raymond rubbed his fingers against his eyes. They were feeling the strain of the time spent on the computer. His back also was protesting. It was unused to the activity as were the eyes. With a loud yawn, he stood up and stretched like a cat.
He had been surprised at encountering Madeline when Birkoff had walked him back to his 'quarters' as they were termed. She had been sitting at the terminal much like he had been but she had been staring at a blank screen. Birkoff had left quickly when he saw her and left Raymond standing at the threshold.
"You have a plan where Nikita is concerned?" she had asked. Raymond had explained what his intentions were. And how Michael had expressed his misgivings. "Not important." Madeline had coldly replied as she stood up. "We've got a job to do. Neither of us created the problem but we have been ordered to fix it. First order of duty is get her back. Do what you have to do. Then you start on Michael. Nikita's file is loaded for you. I'll give you Michael's later."
Then she had strode out past him. For several moments, he had stood there; gradually absorbing the coldness that had emanated off of her. Maybe my comment was a little harsh....then again the truth can cut deeply....
Brushing aside the misgivings, he had sat down and starting to read. It had taken him a while to get started. He had to go out and bring Birkoff back in to help him with gaining access again. But he had no problem confirming his diagnosis of Nikita that he had been playing with. She was suffering just like Michael only from different circumstances. To the outside world she covered it. She was just another drug addict on the streets who had tangled with authority. The incident with the officer had been regrettable. Then Section One pulled her into its world and she connected with Michael.
Burying the past, she had tried to deal with the present. But the stress of doing that kept picking at the lock on the door she had shoved it behind. Flare-ups and signs showed but she compensated. That was why so many saw her as being strong but temperamental, she was very adept at counter-balancing the turmoil inside and outside.
She had to be to stay alive within this place. Section One abhors weaknesses and actively destroys them. Or exploits them if they can get something out of it. And that was what Operations and Madeline did to a point with the connection between Nikita and Michael. Paired them when they saw Michael's interest and let it develop. I wonder if they fully thought out what their concoction might produce....
Michael was her control valve but then even he couldn't always control her. Several times that had happened but somehow he had always managed to 'fix' things. Raymond frowned as he thought about how much Michael had kept them from knowing about Nikita. How many times had he covered up a situation that they should have known about? He wondered how many times she had tried to kill herself too. The signs were there but there was no mention of it. Either she had been stopped or talked herself out of it. Had Michael also been involved there?
Then there was the incident with Elouette and Michael had been taken away from Section for a time. Thought dead on a mission with Nikita. Poetically found in her arms at the scene. Injured herself and emotionally shattered, her ability to cope was severely damaged. Avoidance seemed to be another favorite method in her coping schematic . And she had done just that, 'perfect operative state' as Madeline had termed it. Nikita had gone and retrieved Michael but there were problems which were not spelled out and then Nikita had been transferred to another area of Section. There was mention of flashbacks upon her return and the 'consummation' of her relationship with Michael.
He had a wry smile as he read that. He could hear the doubt that hung with the quotation marks Madeline had used with that comment. She was not stupid but then again neither was Michael or Nikita. They had covered themselves well but not entirely. Raymond knew more about the relationship than Madeline did. A frown quickly replaced the smile. Why the competitive push all of a sudden Raymond? What are you looking for? He wasn't pleased with himself and he was not pleased with what he had seen on the screen about Nikita or Madeline's actions towards her. She was doing the same thing to Nikita she was doing to Michael..... Push and Pull.
Raymond had recognized that for sometime Nikita had been on shaky ground. Then the attack by Bauer and her intensity in anxiety and aggression had skyrocketed afterwards. Upon the start of the mission involving Reese, there was a notation of a remark Madeline had made regarding Nikita's departure.. "looks like she is afraid, almost like a deer caught in headlights, needs to be neutralized." That remark didn't surprise him in the least, it would have been expected. But he didn't like the word 'neutralized', it signaled trouble.
>From what Michael had told him, he had known of Katie's existence before then. Section had too but he made sure she was thought dead. The carefully guarded secrets and trauma of the past had been revealed. She had delayed reaction to Bauer's attempted rape till it had combined with the course of the mission and the bonding with the child. That was where Nikita's ability to compensate ended. She responded viciously to the turmoil inside. Madeline had brief notes on it but he had the whole story from Michael.
In a way, Nikita reminded him of a house on stilts at the beach. Two of the stilts were Michael and Section One. Another at first had only been Katie but now Reese helped form it. The last one was the past and it was composed of Taylor Foller, her mother and the life she had lead until coming to Section One. The ground under the stilts had been gravely eroded and now the house was teetering. Only Michael and the children were keeping it from falling down on top of her.
There were also maternal aspects Raymond would deal with later. They were dormant now but he knew better than to dismiss them. Michael mentioned that he had witnessed her nightmare about her mother and an incident in Israel. Though Nikita had not told anyone in particular about her mother, he was sure there had been some abuse. Perhaps not only from the mother. The feeling that much of it had been mental or emotional in nature was strong. They could also be considered part of the problem she was facing. There were also latent problems with the environment she had been exposed to. He had dealt with enough runaways to know what it was like. That was another door to be opened later.
No right now Taylor was the problem but he was also the solution. As distasteful as Michael found that. Starting out of his room, he had to consider the consequences of the two men meeting. Whether or not Michael acknowledged it, he had hatred of Taylor just as he did for L' Araigne and Section One. He was 'powerless' against them but Taylor was something he could strike out at. Raymond did not what to hazard a guess as to what Michael might do. He really didn't have too. Bauer had died for trying to hurt Nikita like that, Taylor's fate would be similar but definitely more painful.
Reaching Medlab quickly and proud of himself for not getting lost, he was surprised at how easily he was taken into Nikita's room. The young woman who accompanied him was Calrienne, Christine's assistant. "Madeline contacted me earlier and Christine said it was alright as long as Michael wasn't here." she explained upon his asking. "I kicked him out earlier before he wore a hole in the floor. He's absolutely exhausted again. Christine said to sneak a sedative in his coffee. I hope it worked. He needs rest."
"Do you know where he went at all?" Raymond hoped it worked too. He didn't want Michael walking in on the middle of her 'treatment'.
"He mentioned something about reports. Maybe his office? Do you want me to find out?"
"No...head him off if he comes back though. I don't want to be interrupted for a while."
Calrienne rolled her eyes. "Sure, no problem." She adjusted the rumpled covers around Nikita. "She been restless. Christine says she's fighting coming to. We've been monitoring her. I haven't heard her say anything. There has been leg, hand and a little head movement."
Raymond nodded. "Yes she's fighting it. Thank you, Calrienne." She left and he immersed
himself in the silence for several moments.
Yes my colleagues would tell me what I am about to attempt is outlandish and unorthodox. But how many of them even can understand what I can about a person? None of them can do I what I can. She's hovering at that threshold though. Using Taylor could bring her out of it or drive her further in. What should I do or maybe that should be who should I use? She needs to be convinced the real world is better than the one she is creating and telling herself is real. I don't want to touch on the chil.....Michael. He's the hook along with Taylor. Get her somehow to think that Taylor has harmed...
Taking a deep breath and settling himself on the bedside chair, Raymond took a limp hand. It was cool to his touch but then the room was too. He was not going to tread lightly here. Michael was an explosion that was about to happen and Nikita was the match lighting him. She needed to be back here. Together he would be able to work on 'the problem' as it had been termed. He was going to use Taylor against her firmly and swiftly. "Alright Nikita....time to talk and plant a few seeds. Perhaps I'll only had to help uncover what I think is already growing...."
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Nikita was glad for the little bit of peace she had managed to finagle for herself tonight. Reese had gone to Chris and Simon's, determined he was going to read Simon Says to CJ. Katie was at Annie and Claude's. She was developing a huge crush on Willie. Poor Jerrod had lasted 6 months as her object of affection. That was until he had come home on spring break with his girlfriend. Katie had been devastated. Willie had been very sweet to her and that was when she had decided he wasn't so bad as a 'boy' after all. Nikita just wished Claude would stop instigating things. Katie and Willie didn't need to be thinking of boyfriend and girlfriend things. She laughed to herself. Old fogy...
She had to admit though that the two of them were 'best buddies' as Katie called it. They did a lot together as friends. Annie called it 'joined at the hip'. Katie further explained her feelings in that she just 'really really really liked' her buddy now. The two of them were total opposites. Katie was bright and outgoing. Willie was pretty shy and introverted. Nikita had to agree with Claude that Willie was much more approachable and lively when he was with Katie. In turn, he tempered and brought Katie in line. Annie had said several times that Michael and her would have been like that if they had met at the same age as Willie and Katie.
Michael had promised to be home by 10. He had said that the men should be done with the carpeting at the gallery addition by 9 at the latest. He planned to follow them right out the door and come home as soon as they were done. With a sigh and a smile, Nikita pushed the last bag in the back of the Jeep and turned to grab the cart. That was when she noticed the two hands resting on the side of it. She looked up with a bright smile, thinking it was one of the market employees only to feel the smile ripped from her face. Her worst nightmare stood not more that two feet from her. The only thing between them, a now empty metal shopping cart.
A smile showed the lines around his mouth and eyes that as a teenager she had once thought were temptingly sexy. Now they made her skin crawl. Fighting to control the urge to scream, she stared at Taylor Foller with hard cold eyes. He hadn't changed much over the years. His light brown hair showing no signs of being almost .... what 45 or so now. His eyes still were as blue as she remembered and he had kept himself trim. He was dressed neatly too, the sweater and jeans adding to his youthful appearance. He looked nothing like the creature she hoped he had ended up as.
"Hello Nikita. I've been wanting to see and talk to you. It's been a long time. How have you been? How is our daughter?"
"Go to hell." Nikita spun on her heel. If she could get to the open door on the driver's side and grab the keys, then she could trigger the alarum. It was loud and would draw attention. They knew her here, they didn't know him. Taylor moved faster than she thought.
He pushed her into the side of the vehicle. Nikita fought to keep from shaking in response to the fear he drew out of her. She also fought to get his hands off of her. But he was a match for her. After a brief struggle, he managed to pin both her arms against the hard fiberglass. "Don't think I'm going to let you get away as easily as you did then. I'm back. I have rights. I have wants. I intend to have them all fulfilled. Do you understand me?"
"You've got nothing here." She wretched a wrist away and shoved at him. "Get your hands off of me! Stop touching me!!"
"That isn't what you used to say." he laughed as he let go.
Nikita cringed inside, she felt lightheaded and sick to her stomach. "You had no right! It was wrong! You ra..."
"I loved you and I still do. Why couldn't you understand that then? Can't you see that's why I've come back? I want us to be together. I want to get to know our daughter."
"Love? You're sick!!! You used me to feel like you were powerful, in control. You needed dominance over something and you used me!!! I told you no and you ignored me. You forced me to do it!" She couldn't stop the shaking now.
"You still can't say it, can you? It is called making love. Why are you so hung up on that? I find it hard to believe you've got any problems with it. I've seen your dear hubby. I've been to his gallery. By the looks of him and the way women react to him, you've got yourself a real stud. I must have taught you well. But I'm not going to fight with you about it. I don't want to say hurtful things to you. As much as I hate the guy, I just hope you don't break his heart too much when you ask for the divorce."
Nikita looked at him in absolute shock. "What?"
"The divorce. You're going to go get Katie and your stuff. I'll meet you there. You can end this farce and come with me. We were great together, Nik. My golden girl gave me what I've always wanted. A child. I want to finish watching her grow up with you." His hand slid across her cheek and into her hair, curling tightly into it. When Michael did that it was a comforting caress, Taylor's burned her like acid. Nikita stood motionless. She was so scared, she couldn't find the strength to pull away from him.
Slowly he pulled her head against the Jeep and then pushed her back. His face was barely an inch from hers. "She's not yours....Michael is her father. Please let me go. Please stop touching me." She clenched her hands into fists, tensing her body.
Softly Taylor kissed her mouth. "No she's ours. Just like your mine." He tried to kiss her again. With a scream, Nikita slammed both fists against the sides of his head. At the same time her knee came up to his crotch. Howling in pain, he went down to a knee. Nikita kneed him again in the face, as her now clenched together hands smashed against into the back of his head as it rocked backwards in reaction to her knee.
With a groan he slumped to the ground. Tears flowed freely down Nikita's face as she yanked the door of the Jeep closed. Her hand shook so bad she could barely get it started and in gear. The tires squealed as she jammed her foot down on the gas and sped away from his limp body on the ground.
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Raymond watched Nikita closely for a physical reaction to the images he hoped she was experiencing. Her fingers dug into the mattress as he had seen them do before. A single tear trickled out of her eye and rolled down to her temple. It dropped to the pillow and disappeared. There was a faint noise from her throat as if she was either trying to scream but her eyes didn't move.
He could feel her fear but he could also feel her pulling away. The threat had not been enough, Raymond had worried that this would happen. He actually wasn't even sure if he had caused the reaction or she was doing it herself. "You are a stubborn woman. That's how you've held yourself together for so long. And that's how you've been able to get as close to Michael as you are. But you're giving all the hard work up. Why? Because this is easier? Nikita, think about it. Who is it going to be easier for? There are those who need you. Don't forget about that."
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Shaking his head and draining his mug, Michael stifled another yawn. That was the second cup of coffee and still he didn't feel any more energy that before the first one he had with him in Medlab. With a deep breath, he leaned his head back against the rolled top of the chair. He had to admit this new chair with the higher back was more comfortable than the other shorter one he had used for so long.
He thought about Nikita in that bed in Medlab. It had been three days now, right? Michael wasn't sure. He couldn't recall the day of the week or how much time had passed since he had last slept. He had been trying to keep up with his normal responsibilities as well as check on her as often as he could. Nikita was still commanding more of his attention than work was. The comments from Operations were soon going to start and then the demands. Not that they ever stopped. What had she called him that night...'lackey' was it. He was lackey extraordinaire. Stifling yet another yawn, he turned his head to look towards his office window.
It must have been morning because people were active in the hallway and the exercise room. He toyed with the idea of getting up and maybe using the weights for a while. Work himself up some energy. But the prospect of getting out of the chair and going to his quarters to change seemed like an unworthy proposition. Michael fought to keep his eyes open but couldn't. Finally he gave up and let them shut. His final waking thought was that somehow he'd been drugged. Why he just didn't understand.
Michael didn't stir as his office door opened and Christine stuck her head in. "Michael?" she said softly as she closed the door behind her. His eyes remained shut and his breathing smooth and deep. A smile crossed her face. "Mama would have a fit but you needed the rest. You can get mad at me later. I'm the one who told Calrienne to do it."
As quietly as she could, Christine closed the blinds and then leaned around him to shut off his laptop. He still didn't move. With a melancholy smile on her face, she pushed back a piece of hair off his forehead and out of his eye. "That used to drive Mama nuts. Your hair was always in your face because you went ballistic whenever she pulled out the scissors. Must have been an infantile Samson complex." She kissed her pointer finger and then touched her finger to his forehead, whispering "T'aime Cabot". Slipping noiselessly over to the door and opening it, she took one more look at him before leaving.
It hurt to lie to him and to Simon too. Both of them needed to hear things that could only come from her. But she was too scared to say anything to either of them. Michael would bid his time, pushing the subject when he felt her guard was down. On the other hand, Simon would push just like he was doing.
Feeling sad and alone, Christine wrapped her arms around herself and slowly made her way back to Medlab. She kept her eyes on the floor, refusing to make any eye contact with those she passed. As she walked along the side of ops, she caught Birkoff's attention. He elbowed Caroline who sat on a chair beside him. "See I told you, look at her."
Caroline looked up and watched Christine go around the corner. She could easily tell the doc was upset. Never let them see how you feel...then they know what's going on. She stopped herself from making a face. "Yeah you're right. She does look pretty out there. ."
Birkoff shook his head. "All four of them have had that same look time and again since they got back from that mission. Ever once in a while, I see one kinda like it on Operations' or Madeline's face. It's like they've lost something and are feeling bad because of it."
She looked over at him as she heard the wistful tone. Caroline squeezed her eyes shut quickly. Things were not going anything like she had imagined a year ago. The urge to be back in the field was so strong she could taste it. But with had happened with that damn pipe bomb and now the agreement she had made, the return to field duties was beyond hope now.
"Maybe you should ask Niki...oh that's....never mind. Any news on her yet?"
"No, she's still out of it. I hope she comes to soon. I don't know how long Operations will allow this. Physically unable to perform equals cancellation."
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Chapter 14
He had never been here before and he worried about what was going to happen. It was cold here as usual too, though Michael had no idea how he knew that. The graveyard was quiet except for the movement of the wind through the tall grass. The clouds moved over head like a storm was coming fast from the west. He pulled his coat tight around himself and pushed some hair out of his face. The tombstones seemed to stretch on forever but for some reason he couldn't read any of them. The words were all weather worn and blurred. Even the ones closest to him.
"Finally getting some guts? Doubt it will last." Then that haunting, mocking laughter.
Taking a deep breath Michael turned to look behind him. L' Araigne stood there, scarred face and all. "I had to have them to survive you. I'm still alive, you're not. Obviously that proves who the stronger man was. Me."
For a moment L' Araigne looked at him with an astounded expression on his face and then he started to laugh uproariously. "You got a sense of humor. Lord, I never ever realized it. Where did you find it?" Suddenly he was in Michael's face. "Over my corpse?"
Michael stared blankly at him for what seemed like an eternity. Then his mouth curved into a sneer. "Yes, that was a day when I laughed and cried tears of joy. You were gone."
"Well my angel....as you can see there must have been an error in that report because here I am." L' Araigne grabbed Michael's hand and pressed it against his chest near his heart. "Sens mon coeur, Michel. Frappe meme le tein." Then L' Araigne chuckled again. "But that's right. You don't have one. I beat it out of you and buried it with them." He moved aside a little so Michael could see what was behind him. "Take a look. Never been to see them have you. Better not to think of them like that. Hell better not to think of them at all."
"You have no..." With his teeth clenched, Michael started to refute the statement only to find himself standing alone. L' Araigne had moved over by the gravestones and was moving his hands caressingly over two of them. The words on these were cleared . He tried not to look at them. To do that meant terrible pain and guilt would engulf him. He had to concentrate on Philippe, the man was too dangerous not to.
"Ever think about mommy and daddy, Michael? Your poor rotted dead parents. I think it's rather humorous that you have this big idea of acting like one. You aren't cut out to be one. And then there is Nikita. Guess what? Neither is she. Let's just say that you two didn't have the best role models in the world. She had a drug queen and you had the bastard traitor here." He patted the stone on his right. "So Chancier, are you happy with the way the kid turned out? Weak and two faced just like you. Your papa's proud of you, Michael. Mama couldn't be happier either. She so wanted you to be like your father. On the other hand, your son is mighty peeved. And so is Simone. Neither likes the idea of being replaced."
Rage propelled Michael forward. "Shut your mouth about my parents! You god damn bastard!" He struck at Philippe first and missed. Then he grabbed L' Araigne by the front of his jacket. His last words ended in a shout. "I'm not replacing them!! I should kill you!!"
That mocking laugh again. "Look among the bones Michael, you might find something you can use to do that. Like the guts to let the past stay buried." Then he was gone. Michael looked at his fingers curled as if he still held something. Gradually he released his hold and reached out towards a stone. Suddenly he snatched his hand back as if he had been getting too close to a hot object.
On shaky legs, he walked around the stones and stood in front of them. His mother's was to the left of his father's, Merle's was next to his and Simone's was last. He moved down so that he was between Simone's and Merle's. He crouched down so he was eye level with the stones. "I'm not trying to replace either of you. That's not possible. I loved you both and I still do in a special way. But I can't live on just memories anymore. I need something solid to hold and love... something to touch and to touch me back. To make me feel alive.............they need me."
Feeling tears starting in his eyes, he looked away for a moment. Thinking he was in control, he looked back. "But I need you all too....I can't....You let me go Simone, I just haven't completely done that to ....damn not to any of you." He stood, tears now glistening brightly in his eyes and threatening to fall. "How can I let go when I never said good-bye. Never got to say good bye...have never been strong enough to go and tell any of you." Closing his eyes, he tilted his face up to the clouds again and felt a tear spill down quickly followed by another.
Michael opened his eyes to his dark office, the blinds closed and the laptop off. He didn't remember doing either. He leaned forward, elbows on the edge of the desk. He knew the tears from his dream were real on his face. Images of the dream still keen is his mind's eye as were the feelings associated with them. He swallowed hard, trying to stop any more tears or feelings. It was useless, they had been unstopped and needed to be let out. Bowing his head, he let them do what they wanted.
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Operations looked over his shoulder as Michael entered Strategics. The circles under his eyes were dark, almost bruised looking. He appeared paler than normal too. There was something about his expression too. Operations couldn't quite put his finger on it. It reminded him of how Michael had looked the first couple of weeks after he had come out of the stupor over his parents. Suddenly it struck him, it wasn't Michael's expression but his eyes. They appeared haunted. As if he had seen something that had shaken him to the core.
A movement on the outer edge of his vision caught his attention. Doyle settled into a chair by the transparent tracking chart. His eyes came to rest on Michael with unconcealed resentment. Once again, Operations began to doubt the pairing of the two men. But there was a lot Doyle could learn from Michael. Their newest team member had the potential to be an excellent field op. But only if his disruptive tendencies were curbed. And Michael was the perfect stone to grind the rough edges smooth.
Coming to focus on Michael again, he saw Simon standing to the side of the room, quietly watching Michael. His eyes narrowing as he contemplated his friend. Operations knew that Simon was feeling that there was something awry but he knew better than to think of asking Simon if he knew what it was. His newest team leader was one not an individual to pry into others' business and two fiercely loyal to Michael. He wouldn't say anything unless it was necessary to save the man's life.
Michael sensed he was being studied. He knew it was coming not only from Simon but Operations and Doyle too. He couldn't care less about what 'the boss' thought. And what he needed to know either. Doyle was a flick of consideration and he was dismissed too. Simon though, he couldn't brush off like that. The man was a friend, at times, he had felt the only true one besides Claude and Nikita. He looked across the room and saw the questioning gesture of Simon's head. With a subtle nod, Michael turned away.
Simon tightened his lips together and tapped his foot inside of his shoe. There was a problem eating at Michael. He could tell by the look regardless of his 'ok' gesture. The troubles of the past year had to be finally getting to him. Chrissy had told him that she asked Calrienne to sedate him anyway possible. He wasn't sure though if it had worked. Michael looked more tired than he had yesterday. He had the demeanor of a man who had lost someone close but was keeping the knowledge of it to himself. Simon prayed that something had not happened to either Reese or Katie. With Nikita in the condition she was.... he shook his head. That was not anything he wanted to even remotely think about. And he'd seen Doyle's look too, that's going to be curbed but quick if I get him alone.
"Now that Michael's here, I want to go over our next proceeding. Mr. Kassov was nice enough to divulge to us a number of his acquaintances that have achieved low but tactically significant positions within various Balkan governments. 16 targets have been selected." 4 vertical boxes appeared above the table. Each was split into 4 boxes with an image.
"...Not enough to cause a great disturbance to the general workings of any government involved but a good bite of out the mafiosi that is infiltrating here. This will allow us to keep our foothold for the moment. These 'gentlemen' are like cockroaches, people. This will probably not be the only time we'll be doing this. Nor will these be the only places. Right now we have a cell in Perth under watch."
He pointed at Simon. "Simon will not only lead his team but parts of Michael's." Both of their heads swerved in the direction of Operations, the pictures hovering above the table forgotten.
"Doyle, you're under Simon's direct command. He's a god to you till the end of this operation. You will be his eyes and ears as he runs the operation. If a problem happens, you relate it and he tells you how to fix it. And to all of you, Madeline is going to be the sun. You follow what she says when she says it. No questions! She has absolute authority. Michael will be evaluating each and every of you on your performance. His recommendations will be final and closely followed. Am I understood?"
Heads nodded around the room. "Fine. You leave in 72 hours. Miller will be handing out PDAs in an hour with your individualized assignments. Get to know them well. Standby till then. Dismissed! Michael, you stay. I want to talk to you."
Arms folded across his chest, Simon swaggered passed Doyle. A smug smile solidly on his lips. He raised an eyebrow as he made eye contact with his new charge. "You're mine, baby boy." he said just loud enough for Doyle to hear. Slowly he strolled out of the room, the slight swagger to his step still evident.
Doyle's face was neutral but inside he was boiling. He didn't like the treatment and once again it was Michael's fault. He shifted his gaze over to the two men standing by the table. "Problem, Doyle?" Operations barked at him. Shaking his head no, he strode swiftly out of the room. Operations turned his attention to Michael. "What's going on?"
Michael brought his fixed look up to Operations' face. His voice was low and void of any emotion. "Nothing. Why?"
"When was the last time you slept?"
Ignoring the question because he didn't want to think about the dream he had experienced, he said, "Why aren't I leading the mission?"
Taking a deep breath, Operations sat on the table and regarded Michael for a moment. "Because the man I'm looking at right now is not fit to lead a mission, much less be out of bed at the moment I think. The last time I sent you out in this condition, ignoring it, we lost Simone. I don't want history to repeat itself. Get yourself together or else. I want you back to normal. Now!"
The look Michael gave Operations in return to his command was icy. "Whatever you want."
"Really? Then get it fixed with Doyle, too. He's your project."
"I know." Michael said face and eyes in Section composure as he turned and walked out of the room. Gradually Operations inhaled and then exhaled. He had been waiting for Michael to explode in his face. But there had been nothing. He didn't know which was worse.
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Nikita could feel Michael's eyes on her from where he sat at his worktable. For the fifth time she tried to read the next section of the grant application. Annie had said they had to be in the mail to the association in the morning. But with seeing Taylor yesterday, she had been unable to think of anything. She hadn't been able to sleep either. She had checked on Katie at least 15 times last night. She knew tonight she would do the same.
She stiffened slightly as Michael walked up behind her and began to massage her shoulders. "Mon coeur, can we talk about something important?" He asked as his lips brushed the top of her ear.
"Yeah.." She closed her eyes and forced herself to relax. The massage felt good. He knew just where she carried her tension and was good at working it out.
"About a year ago I asked you something that really mattered a lot to me. You told me you needed time, that you weren't ready. It's been a year. I'm asking again.... are you ready for our own child yet?"
Nikita bit her lip. Now was not the time for this conversion. Not with what had happened yesterday and the demands Taylor had made. "Aren't Katie and Reese good enough for you?" Her words were harsher than she had intended.
Michael's hands left her shoulders like they were touching a hot pan. He moved a few feet from her. Sensing what was coming next, she turned in the chair to look at him. He stood with his hands on his hips and eyes focused on the ceiling. "I have never felt that. I have never said anything to ever indicate that." He brought his eyes down to her and they were fierce. "Why throw that in my face? WHY? I don't care if I'm not the biological father of either of them...."
She stood, "Then why do we..."
"They're the children of my heart but I want a child created by what we have between us...what we feel for each other!!"
"We're a family because of what we feel for each other!!"
"Then if we feel so much for each other it should be shared!"
"We do share with each other!" Nikita clenched her teeth and her hands at the same time. "I DON'T NEED THIS RIGHT NOW!!"
"Why? Why wait longer? The past is over and done!"
"Why? If I say I'm not ready, are you going storm out in anger? Why this all of a sudden again? Are you jealous of your sister? Because she and Simon have a child together and we don't?"
"That's not..."
"I'm running a center for runaways, I'm the mother to two children, I take care of this home....... I'm married to you, I have your last name but I DON"T REMEMBER HOW ANY OF THIS HAPPENED!!!" She turned away from him, shoving in the chair. "I DON'T EVEN KNOW IF THIS IS REAL! IT'S TOO PERFECT!!!"
"What's wrong with perfect? After everything we've had happen to us in the past! Don't you think we deserve it?"
"We may deserve it but we aren't ever going to have it!!" She held her hand up in the air and pointed at her wedding ring. "I look at this on my finger. I read the date. The last thing I remember is going over a cliff in a Ferrari after tagging a guy at some hokey country bar. Next I wake up on the kitchen floor here ...what...6 weeks ago...married and three years gone. I don't know what happened to Section. I don't remember how we got them back. I don't even remember our wedding. When is this farce going to end? How much longer do they intend on torturing me? Why are you letting them do this? Why are you letting the kids get used like this? Why are you letting him near me?"
Nikita grabbed a vase from her desk, filled with dried flowers and threw it against the wall across the room. " STOP IT NOW! I CAN'T HANDLE IT!!! I give in! Do you hear me? I GIVE IN!!!"
Michael grabbed her, fear in his eyes. "Stop please! You're not making any sense! What do you think you're giving into?"
"Them! Operations...Madeline!! Whatever they want. Just stop this sweet cruel punishment now!! I SUBMIT! You bastards win!!"
"Wait! Stop this! You're throwing a lot at me at once. Section is dead and gone. There is nothing of it left. We put all of Section behind us!! It has been 2 years Nikita.... You don't remember that night out there by the shore. The storm was dying and everything smelled so clean...the wind was still blowing. The caps were high on the water and we had just made love ... it was our first night of real freedom. Claude was going to be here the next day with Reese and Katie. I put the ring back on your finger. Told you I wanted to make it real because we finally had someday...it was here!! Section can never be again. I helped make sure of that!"
With her head moving from side to side, Nikita groaned, "No, it's a blank!! All just a big nothing."
He raised a hand to her cheek, the caress lingering and tender. "Dieu, mon coeur.. Tomorrow not right now we call Christine...get somebody..." His eyes darted around the room for a moment, reflecting his rapid thoughts. "The opening...we'll just delay it."
Nikita shook her head. "No! You've worked to hard. I can't ask you to do it. I don't want you to do it."
He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. "Him...you said him...."
"Taylor...last..."
A finger pressed against her lips. "No, he can't hurt us. There is nothing he can do." He grabbed her chin. "I won't let him. I told you before...if I ever saw him, I'd kill him."
"No..."
"Shhh....I made a promise to you." Michael stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers.
"That was a Section promise...you told me no more Section." Feeling the start of tears she leaned her forehead against his. I'm so tired of the hurt and tears.
"It was a promise I made to you."
"That was Section Michael...not the Michael I have here." Nikita could feel a desperate sensation rising up inside. She couldn't help feeling that the world she was so happy in was ready to fall apart. Or worse yet that it wasn't even real. That somehow she was dreaming this and was going to wake up still on the couch wherever it was with Taylor at the foot of it.
Looking steadily into his eyes, she could see her own doubt reflected in them. "Show me you're real."
"Wha..."
She kissed him and he kissed her back. She could feel his hesitation. "No words. Just prove it to me."
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"It's simply a request. It shouldn't be difficult." Michael kept his back stiff and his eyes straight ahead as Madeline got up from her chair and leaned across her desk towards him. He didn't want to come to her like this but time was too important. And there wasn't enough of it either.
"How do you know if it is difficult or not? Have you been in contact with him?"
"No."
"Since when do you feel compelled to lie to me all the time Michael?"
This time he looked directly at her. The mask stayed in place but his voice seemed just a touch unsure and hesitant. "I don't lie to..."
"You deliberately deceived me about Katrina! You used Section connections to access that child's records and change parts of some while wiping others out. I saw the telltale signs. And just now you blatantly denied that you've had contact with Claude! I know about the package he had delivered to you!"
Michael held his tongue. It would be of no use to refute or confirm her words. She already knew the truth. There was no reason to say anything else. Madeline came around the desk. She stood to the side of him. Gradually he turned his head so he could look at her. There was no anger in her face just a cold hardness in her eyes. He kept himself from frowning. They were a long way from where they had once been. But it was her doing not his.
"You don't have anything to say? No 'I'm sorry Madeline. Please forgive me.' or 'That's too bad. It's the way things are now.' You're just going to stand there." His demeanor made her furious. She didn't want it to show but she knew it colored her words.
"There is nothing I can say except I need to see them for just a little while."
"No, you don't deserve it!"
"What about Nikita? Doesn't she deserve it for everything you've put her through? For everything you've done to her?" He turned so they were facing each other. "Didn't he give you your mother as a thank you for services rendered? Why not the same for us?"
"There are no thank-yous! You have a job and your completion of it is what is expected! You are not thanked for it! Rewarded perhaps. And realize this, Michael, your reward for 'services rendered' is the allowance of the relationship between you two. Push some more and it will be terminated!"
He watched her, committing to the anger that filled him. "I thought you were on our side. I was in error."
"No, you erred by deceiving me! All of you! Therefore I take no one's side. I exploit who I need when I feel I need to!" Giving into the anger inside felt good. Let Raymond say all he wanted to about how she did or didn't have feeling. She was doing it right now. This was not an imitation. She experienced all the hurt and pain. In a way it was cleansing.
"Isn't there a saying that the exploiter gets exploited in the end?" Michael could easily see her anger now. That was good. He wanted to know what he was facing.
"Only a foolish or naive one."
"Then you better find your jester hat." Michael pivoted on his left foot and started for the door.
"Get back here! This is not finished!"
"Maybe not for you." And the door slid closed behind him. Madeline took several deep breaths. He had made her absolutely furious. Even worse though was the way she had lost such complete control and Michael, the one who was struggling with so much, had controlled it. She needed to get herself back together. Emotions could be deadly in Section One.
Tautly she walked back to her desk and sat in the chair, her back rigid. Placing both palms flat on the top of the desk, she slowly inhaled and then exhaled. Calmness began to return. It was what she needed and what she had to have. Loss of control meant loss of self and the ability to think and reason effectively. Now she had to focus on her goals. The trick was to figure out which goal was going to be first.
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Michael knew exactly where he needed to go and that was to see Birkoff. Things for the time were quiet, activity at a lull. Everything that could be gotten ready for the upcoming mission was done. Only the preparation of the operatives for their individual assignments had to be completed. However that was something each one needed to do on their own. As he had surmised Birkoff was in ops, pouring over an application of one of the programs. There was a frown on his face, evidently it was not up to his standards.
Placing a hand on his shoulder and leaning down to examine the screen with him, Michael said quietly, "I need your assistance."
Only moving his eyes to give Michael a sideways glance, Birkoff asked cautiously. "With what?"
"I need some communications monitored....coming and going.....times and location or destination." He crouched down and started hitting keys, his other hand still on Birkoff's shoulder. "This is the one I need the intel on."
Birkoff gulped and got tense. The one he'd brought up was Madeline's. "That's Ma..." He stopped as the fingers that had been resting on his shoulder now gripped it tightly.
"Not necessary. Every two hours. My encrypted file." He stood and released the pressure on Birkoff's shoulder. He smoothed out the material and gave him a soft knuckle to the head. "I appreciate it." And then he strode away.
Taking his first full breath in minutes, Birkoff swiveled in his chair to watch Michael's retreating back. "Man, what kind of game are you trying to win now? Or are you just setting up the board?"
End of part seven...
written by Tammy
Continue on to Perchance To Dream, part eight
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