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Entry tags:
FIC: i am made of longing [la femme nikita]
i am made of longing
by abby82
category: missing scene-ish
rating: Explicit
word count: 6280
disclaimer: they don’t belong to me, no money is being made. I’m only borrowing them.
author’s note: I wanted to explore that tiny possibility of Michael and Nikita moving in together. The scene in season 4's 'Man in the Middle' where Michael suggests Nikita stay with him while Section sanitizes her apartment is probably the biggest example of Michael looking at Nikita with hearts in his eyes. He's got it bad for her. The fact that Michael was the one to broach a very personal topic during the middle of a mission shows that he wants to progress his relationship with Nikita to the next level. In this episode we also start seeing hints of the emotionally distant and confused Nikita that permeates the first half of season 4. The angst didn't end with the Gelman arc. It's only getting started.
story began: September 2020
story finished: October 2021
links: LJ | AO3 | Tumblr
summary: "You can stay with me."
by abby82
category: missing scene-ish
rating: Explicit
word count: 6280
disclaimer: they don’t belong to me, no money is being made. I’m only borrowing them.
author’s note: I wanted to explore that tiny possibility of Michael and Nikita moving in together. The scene in season 4's 'Man in the Middle' where Michael suggests Nikita stay with him while Section sanitizes her apartment is probably the biggest example of Michael looking at Nikita with hearts in his eyes. He's got it bad for her. The fact that Michael was the one to broach a very personal topic during the middle of a mission shows that he wants to progress his relationship with Nikita to the next level. In this episode we also start seeing hints of the emotionally distant and confused Nikita that permeates the first half of season 4. The angst didn't end with the Gelman arc. It's only getting started.
story began: September 2020
story finished: October 2021
links: LJ | AO3 | Tumblr
summary: "You can stay with me."
"Are you asking me to move in with you?"
aka Michael REALLY wants Nikita to move in with him.
“Let’s go home,” Michael tells her after they’ve finished their debrief. Anna Gunther and Frederick Kraus have been delivered into the confines of Section One and they await the results of Madeline’s probing. Section is nearly empty. The hour is late. No missions are on the pad and Comm is occupied by only a skeleton crew of analysts.
Their earlier conversation about Nikita’s less than desirable accommodations hangs between them and by silent agreement Nikita accompanies him back to his home.
It’s not a space they’ve spent much time in. Too many memories of another life, but slowly visions of Nikita are insinuating themselves within those walls.
When they arrive Michael directs her towards his shower and promises of a quick dinner. Food, shelter, and warmth--those are things Michael can provide. It’s the kind of security that comes easy to him. His attempts at providing emotional shelter are a work in progress. Michael still has work to do to safeguard Nikita’s heart.
Her face softens when she looks at him. A light caress of his arm from shoulder to elbow conveys her appreciation at the suggestion before she turns and walks away. Along the way, Nikita begins to peel away the layers of clothing she wears.
Some mushrooms, baby spinach, broth, eggs, and a handful of other ingredients and he assembles a simple egg drop soup that’s ready in 20 minutes.
Nikita emerges rosy-cheeked out of his bathroom from a cloud of steam, smelling of his soap, and wearing one of his sweatpants and one of her camisoles. She uses a towel to dry her wet hair.
Quiet conversation accompanies their meal. Later, they stand side by side as dishes are washed and dried. The domesticity of it all makes Michael’s heart ache.
They both fall into bed exhausted but not too tired to indulge in some pleasurable relaxation. Even before Nikita’s encounter with Dr. Gelman’s behavioral modification program, their couplings had often been tinged with a desperation that suggested the end was nigh. Michael treasures the instances when they can come together simply to savor the joy their bodies can give each other.
Their kisses are languid. Lips drag hotly against each other.
Michael’s fingers skim over the softness of her bare arms. One of his hands cups and massages a breast through the fabric of her camisole. Her nipples harden and Nikita pushes her chest upwards, seeking out more of his touch.
Nikita’s cool hands work their way under this T-shirt and knead the muscles of his back. Her nails rake lightly down until they reach his ass. She’s undulating below him, grounding herself against his clothed erection. Michael can feel his need for her radiating throughout his entire body.
Time has lost all meaning as they luxuriate in each other. It feels obscenely decadent to have this time together.
The texture of Nikita’s tongue against his own and her fingers over his skin pushes his arousal and need for her ever higher. Her soft moans settle pleasantly within him.
Never take her for granted, he tells himself. Savor every moment with her. He, more than anyone, knows that things can change in a heartbeat. A stray bullet, faulty mission intel--those are far more conventional ways that a Section operative can reach their end.
“Think about it,” Michael whispers in her ear after he eases his mouth from hers, to her jawline and then up behind her ear.
Together they push down the sweatpants she wears to reveal bare skin. Her tank top is bunched beneath her breasts. His own arousal continues to pulsate within the confines of his sleep pants.
Michael’s lips skim her collarbone. His tongue tasting the sweetness of her skin. Nikita drags his lips back to hers and slips her tongue in his mouth, where she finds him eager to engage.
For so long, kissing Nikita had been denied to him and when it was allowed it was always within the parameters that Section would dictate. Missions, deception, and betrayal--they tainted the thrill he got from kissing Nikita. Now, it was for them.
Michael bites an earlobe between his teeth and slips two fingers into Nikita’s wet heat. He groans in appreciation, further aroused to find her so ready for him.
“Move in with me.”
If his invitation earlier in the evening was ambiguous, his phrasing this time leaves little room for doubt.
“You just want a crack at me first thing in the morning,” she teases him playfully before a deep sigh and a whimper escapes her lips. It’s immediately followed by a moan as his thumb rubs at her clit in earnest.
“Among other things,” Michael nudges her camisole further up with his nose and his mouth has taken up residence in the valley between her breasts. “I just want you comfortable,” he whispers onto her skin.
When the temptation grows too great, Michael takes one of her rosy nipples into his mouth, enveloping it greedily. Nikita’s response is instant as she strains against the pleasure he’s giving her. The bed sheets beneath her rustle as she adjusts to get the maximum impact of his touch. His fingers continue their steady play on the bundle of nerves at the entrance to her sex as he captures the nipple he was suckling with his teeth and starts to tug.
“Oh,” she exclaims, low and breathy, “So good...Michael.”
To add further evidence to her enjoyment, Nikita’s inner muscles contract steadily on the fingers still pumping inside her. A multitude of emotions play across her features. Michael moves further up her body and captures her lips in a demanding and hungry kiss.
“Inside me...now,” Nikita’s voice is strained as she claws at his back in an attempt to maneuver him where she wants him.
“No.”
She’s squirming below him. Her breathing shallow and her head straining back against the bed. His fingers are caught in the tight grip of her body. Slick and hot and all for him.
“Michael…”
His mouth leaves a trail of damp skin as his lips caress down Nikita’s stomach and further down her body. She further writhes when he pauses to nip at random intervals. The attention he pays to her belly button causes an unexpected bit of laughter to emerge.
The smell of her arousal is intoxicating as Michael uses his fingers to part her folds and places his mouth on her. His tongue licks a long strip from entrance to clit and coats it with the proof of her pleasure. His lips tease at the folds surrounding her sex right before he manuevers his tongue into her very depths.
Her body starts to buck below him but he doesn’t relent. Seeing her like this is incredibly arousing. Michael adds further pressure to her hips and thighs to counteract her increasingly vigorous movement.
His tongue continues to probe her inner walls and he can feel them pulsating. Slick fingers apply pressure to her clit in unison. Michael uses her body’s reactions as a road map to determine the best way to please her. Nikita props her legs down his back. She uses the soles of her feet to push him closer against her and tightens her hands in his hair.
Michael’s relentless ministrations nearly pushes her over the edge. His lips and tongue delve through these hidden parts of her. He adjusts his mouth to capture her clit and it’s enough for a cry to escape Nikita’s lips and her orgsam to hit.
“Oh, God!”
Michael continues to soothe her folds as her release works its way through her. He rides the wave along with her until she’s left completely boneless. From his position by her thighs, Michael looks up in appreciation. Nikita is the very definition of resplendent languor. A light flush coats her chest alongside the slight abrasion his beard has caused, creating the most enticing image. Her breath comes out in ragged bursts.
“You play dirty.” Her voice is tinged with husky amusement.
“Sometimes,” Michael offers as he presses a sucking kiss on the soft skin of her inner thigh near its apex. It’s an intimate spot only he has the privilege of seeing. “When it suits my needs.”
Michael is unapologetic. Oh, how he wants her. Not just in his bed but her companionship, her counsel, and her trust. Despite his best efforts, Michael has let her down more times than he cares to admit. He would spend the rest of his life trying to make amends if Nikita would have him. They, he, have wasted enough time in his opinion.
He can still feel the faint tremors across her skin as she continues to come down from her orgasm. Michael can’t help but smile faintly into her inner thigh. One of Nikita’s hands lands on his head and she starts to slightly scratch his scalp. The sensation is soothing and maddening at the same time. After a few moments Michael removes her hand and places an affectionate wet and lingering kiss on Nikita’s palm.
He looks up Nikita’s body to find a pair of eyes dilated dark looking back at him. He can get lost looking into those eyes. They’re full of promise, desire, and warmth.
“Come here,” she whispers.
Michael can no longer deny himself. He rises and kisses her without restraint. All his need and all his desire is in that kiss.
All remaining clothes are quickly discarded and they both sigh when their naked bodies are finally together.
Nikita takes him in hand, her thumb spreading the precum that has gathered at the tip. After a few aching strokes, she guides him into her. The heat that is hers welcomes him in.
Forehead against forehead, lips against lips, Michael begins what’s a steady and slow rhythm. He relishes the tight grasp of her body. Together they let their bodies speak to each other in ways only lovers truly know.
He leans back on his knees and pushes Nikita’s thighs towards her chest and against his shoulders but not before bestowing each of her calves with a reverent kiss. The new position allows Michael deeper and more satisfying thrusts. She’s so open for him. It's so wanton. Her body is entirely on display. When he looks down he can see himself disappearing into the heavenly embrace of Nikita’s body.
She bows her torso in an unrestrained display of her beauty. The tips of her breasts, hardened in arousal, tease him with their proximity.
“Touch yourself. Show me,” he commands.
A breathy, sultry smile graces Nikita’s lips as her fingers drift down her torso until they settle between her legs. The sensuality that comes so naturally to her is in full effect. Steady, rhythmic breaths escape her lips with every one of his thrusts and she whimpers with the addition of her own expert touch. Their eyes never waver from each other as they settle further into their lovemaking. Michael is lost in the power of her gaze.
“Nikita…”
His voice is strained with intensity. It’s not enough. He needs to feel more of her skin on his. He needs to feel her in his arms. She must sense it as well because her hands make their way up his arms and onto his shoulders. Nikita eases her legs down and wraps them high around his unwavering hips. She pulls him down to her and she buries her face in his neck, her lips latching onto where his pulse beats wildly. Nikita’s moans reverberate through him. Her breasts pillow on his chest, her hardened nipples rake against him. Michael moans deeply as well. He’s awash in sensation that is entirely Nikita.
Michael wraps his arms around her lower back and leans back until he’s sitting on his shins. Nikita follows him easily and looms over him. Her eyes are dark pools of need. Her kiss, uninhibited and intoxicating. She promptly takes control of their lovemaking as she uses her thighs to propel herself repeatedly over him.
Nikita cradles his face in her hands and Michael’s heart wants to burst with the emotion that continues to surge through him. Their breathing intensifies as he hits deeper inside, all those special places within her that will drive her to release.
Her breasts are a temptation. They weave before him perfect and plush. Now at eye level with them, Michael takes the opportunity to capture the neglected nipple from earlier in his mouth. He suckles at her breast, biting and then soothing with his tongue. Her arms go tightly around his shoulders, encouraging him, holding him to her. His hands skim over the perspiration on her back. They settle on the curve of her buttocks, encouraging her movement over him.
Lost in the pursuit of her orgasm, Michael, in his intimate knowledge of her body, knows Nikita is precariously close.
“Look at me,” he implores. The amount of need he hears in his voice should bother him, but it doesn’t. “Nikita.”
Wild and overwhelmed, that’s the only way he can describe the look he sees in Nikita’s eyes. Their lips skim over each other, breathing each other in ragged, needy gulps of air. They stare intensely into each other’s eyes. Michael wants Nikita to see the intensity of his feelings for her. He keeps so much of himself guarded that it’s become second nature, but his feelings for her have broken free. There can be no one else but her. His entire world begins and ends with her. Without Nikita, there is no life. His words may be spare but he wants to share the depths of his feelings for her with his body.
One of his hands maneuvers its way between their bodies where they’re joined. He finds his target and attacks it thoroughly. Nikita’s second climax sweeps over her and Michael calls upon his diminishing reserves of control to not join her in her release. Just a little longer.
Wrapped in each other, Michael gives Nikita a brief respite. She’s so sensitive right now that he wants to spare her any sort of discomfort. Throbbing and aching inside her, he takes the time to settle his own breathing.
Nikita moves her head from where it rests on his shoulder and turns to face him. She smiles somewhat tired but invitingly at him before she whispers in his ear, “More.”
He lowers Nikita’s limp but still cooperative body back onto the bed and finally begins the final journey towards his own release. He moves in her with increasing urgency.
“Michael.”
To hear her utter his name like that, full of passion and desire would lead any man to move heaven and earth for the privilege of making her happy.
Her hands cup him from behind encouraging his increasingly uncoordinated movement. She squeezes him tightly with her vaginal walls and her fingers dig into his ass before he finally lets go, spilling himself into her. A deep groan escapes his lips as he buries his face into Nikita’s neck.
There’s silence around them. Nikita lazily strokes the slick muscles of his back and drops kisses on his neck, his face still nestled in her shoulder. He can feel her rapidly beating heart slowing down to a more acceptable level. Still deep inside her, he knows that Nikita can feel his heart as well.
Michael knows they can’t stay like this. He’s crushing her with his weight, so he slowly pulls out of her body. Nikita mewls in disappointment as she refuses to let him go.
Michael rolls over fully onto his back and he brings Nikita with him. Their bodies are sticky with drying sweat. He doesn’t care one bit. Apparently, neither does Nikita as she settles at his side, her head on his shoulder. He drops a kiss on her hairline and tightens his arm around her.
He watches in amusement as her lips mouth lazily at his pectoral. She nips at it playfully before she props her chin on his chest.
Michael idly plays with the disheveled layers of hair around her face. The blonde tresses slide through his fingers. They’re too short to tuck them behind her ears for very long, but that doesn’t stop him from indulging in the act.
“Is your evil plan to exhaust me to the point that I’m too worn out to leave?”
She punctuates her question with another nip on his chest before arching a knowing eyebrow at her.
He doesn’t answer her but he knows his face, devoid of its normal protective barriers, shows only his desire to keep her near. He runs his knuckles down the side of her face, desperate to further the contact between them.
“I’m on to you,” she teases.
She leans forward and presses her lips to his. Before she can pull back Michael’s tongue seeks entrance and she happily concedes.
Tonight they will sleep sated and untroubled in each other’s arms.
Tomorrow the day will start brighter because Nikita is there.
Nikita moves in with Michael. It’s only for two weeks, but he intends to make the most of it.
“You’ll be sorry you asked. Even two weeks is plenty of time for me to take over your closet.”
Michael admits to himself that he’s so besotted that Nikita’s “threat” barely registers.
It’s hard to measure the amount of satisfaction Michael feels to see his things intermingled with Nikita’s.
His electric razor rests alongside her hair brush on the bathroom counter.
One of his dark sweaters and one of her tank tops are draped on an armchair.
It’s a heady feeling. He could get drunk on her proximity.
His invitation wasn’t a spontaneous request. The trauma of the last few months, in almost losing her, has given him great urgency to live in the moment.
He marvels at the freedom he now has to touch her, whether it’s a squeeze of the shoulder or fingering the ends of her shorter hair.
They’ll have more privacy during these two weeks and it will give him the opportunity to savor the sight of Nikita in his bed every night when they’re not required to be in overnight close quarters standby.
There’s no real Section One policy that prohibits its operatives from becoming involved. It’s just not encouraged. It’s a policy gray area. Sexual relationships can provide useful outlets for stress, but the minute those relationships tip towards the emotional, then prompt retreat becomes necessary.
Michael hopes, hopes that he can convince Nikita to make the arrangement more permanent.
He’s no stranger to cohabitation with someone. First there were the few short years he’d spent with Simone. After his marriage to Elena they lived in their finely appointed home in Beauvais.
His short time with Nikita before the Type One directive and before the Gelman behavioral modification consisted of stolen moments. The most indulgent had been waking up next to her, her skin sleep warm and her body malleable. Often, he’d awake to find Nikita wrapped around him. His leg entrapped by hers and his arm clutched to her chest. She’d tuck her face in the crook of his shoulder where her steady breath would tease his skin. Her eyelids fluttered lightly as she drifted through her sleep cycles. An incomprehensible mumble would sometimes lead to her tightening her grip ever so slightly before relaxing once again.
Other times, she’d spread out on her side of the bed, her arms and legs akimbo with the sheet wrapped around her body. She shamelessly claimed his bed in sleep and it amused Michael that she was so blatantly territorial.
In the mornings, getting her out of bed could be an adventure. Sometimes she’d glare at him over the rim of the coffee cup he’d bring her. Other mornings had Nikita sitting up slightly disoriented, almost as if she’d forgotten where she was. Upon seeing him, what looked like a relieved smile would ripple across her face. She’d always hug him a little tighter on those mornings. Her kiss would linger just a little longer as well.
One morning Nikita was up before he was. Michael awoke and had reached across the bed to find the space next to him empty and cold. The loft was silent and sunlight streamed through the large windows. He silently rose and made his way to the edge of his bedroom space. Below on the lower level was Nikita. He watched as she silently went through a morning yoga sequence. She flowed easily through boat pose, camel pose, a shoulder stand, and a final twist. The warm orange glow of the early hour lit Nikita aglow. She was luminous in her grace and strength. As a Section recruit Michael had seen her attack her exercise and training routine with vigor. She took easily to the physical exertion it provided. Her appreciation of more meditative methods was slower in coming. Observing her now felt different than observing inside Section. He felt voyeuristic.
“You should have come down,” Nikita commented after she was finished and Michael had left his perch by the bed. She towelled off the light perspiration from her neck and tightened her ponytail. “You could have joined me.”
“It felt private. I didn’t want to intrude more than I had.”
The look Nikita gave him was one of tenderness. It was a look that gripped at his heart like a vise. They spend so much of their time under scrutiny. He wanted to give her as much privacy as he possibly could.
“Good morning,” Michael said immediately after, not wanting to break the moment but knowing it was prudent to do so. He dropped a lingering kiss on her lips and squeezed her waist lightly, his pinky caressing the sliver of skin between her tank top and pajama pants.
“Hi,” she whispered back before pulling him back to her for a longer morning greeting.
Later, over a breakfast of tartine, fruit and coffee, Nikita shared with him what had led to her regard of yoga as meditation. It was another fascinating facet of the woman Michael never wanted to stop discovering.
Lately, he’s found Nikita staring off into space.
He briefly thought back to the vacant and distant Nikita who had occupied the hallways of Section One. It also brought back the too recent painful memory of watching Nikita passively absorb the Gelman maintenance drugs. Drugs that were taking her further away from him. As hellish as the entire ordeal had been, that image of Nikita haunted him the most.
Michael knows Nikita is still processing everything that was done to her. She’s also still processing everything that she did during the last few months. It pains him to see her struggling with her emotions. Yet, he is in no position to demand that she talk to him. For all the times she’d try to open the lines of communication between them, he’d hold her at arm’s length, choosing instead to leave her confused and angry at his silence.
He can only hope that when Nikita is ready to articulate what she’d gone through, she will reach out.
In the end, their cohabitation only makes it one week.
After verifying the information gleaned from the interrogations of Anna Gunther and Frederick Kraus, their orders are to impersonate them and infiltrate the hedonistic party circle of Red Cell weapons supplier Helmut Volker.
What comes after is an infantile attempt by Volker to woo Nikita in front of him. Section decidedly intervenes, but not for the better. Nikita is to accept Volker’s off the cuff and self-serving marriage proposal.
On the surface, the decision has some strategic appeal for Section. Monitor Volker’s Red Cell weapons dealings from the inside and use the intel to disrupt their distribution. However the indefinite posting of an operative is excessive for such an operation, and the original profile of eliminating Volker’s connection is much more efficient.
It frustrates Michael that Section’s antiterrorism objectives are being manipulated to serve personal agendas. It’s becoming too much of a common occurrence. Internal politics are insinuating themselves into mission parameters. At the center of it all is Section continuing to insert itself between his and Nikita’s sometimes fragile relationship.
Nikita takes the news of her forced marriage with a resigned inevitability. She doesn’t fight and protest the way she likely would have done so before. While Michael will always advocate patience and careful planning, Nikita’s defeated attitude has him worried. He, on the other hand, takes to the new obstacle like he’s taken to every other hurdle they’ve encountered, with dedicated focus and planning. He and Nikita will work together to free her of the Section mandated obligation. Helmut Volker will be revealed as a poorly chosen associate for Red Cell to engage with. There will be no need for Nikita to marry him or to monitor his terrorist contacts.
Despite his assurances, Nikita has started to withdraw into Anna, the woman who, under the guise of financial stability, is to wed Helmut Volker. It’s a practical approach, one he’s engaged in himself, but it saddens him that Nikita even needs to make such preparations.
They will not fail. He will not fail...and yet...he does.
As he watches the private plane that will take Nikita and Volker to Argentina and away from him, for the first time in a very long time, Michael feels the sinking feeling of failure.
Failure is not a concept he’s entirely familiar with. His personal failures to Nikita are numerous, but Michael knew he could always count on his efficiency and skill as an operative to accomplish what he needed. Losing Nikita like this unnerves him.
Section had dispatched a team to covertly undo the sabotage he’d committed on Helmut Volker’s Red Cell shipment. For him, it had been a simple operation. One that was routine as far as profiles were concerned and yet something telling had slipped through his meticulous planning. Something he’d done had alerted either Operations or Madeline of his intentions.
Somewhere, he’d made a mistake. He’d even failed to consider a contingency, and it cost Nikita dearly.
Mentally, Michael began to shift through the data at his disposal, including his own actions and the conclusion he arrives at nearly cripples him. When it mattered most, he got sloppy. He’d go as far as to say that he’s been reckless. He’d even begun to flaunt his supposed cleverness. Had he not a week earlier confidently declared to Nikita that knowledge of Adrian’s whereabouts would give them the leverage to finally have the relationship they craved?
Who was this reckless man he’d become?
Was that not what had doomed Jurgen?
Michael had teetered for so long suppressing his emotions that now he’s inundated by them. All this time he’s damned Madeline and Operations for letting their personal ambitions interfere with Section One’s objectives. Now, he too has fallen victim to something similar. Has his love made him blind? Has his love made him a weaker operative just as Madeline has insinuated? How could he have failed Nikita so profoundly?
Nikita played her role to perfection, even letting another man touch her to maintain the charade of their upcoming nuptials. It was the one thing he always tried to spare her from, but this time it was necessary. What must Nikita be thinking? She’d expected to be extracted from her mission. She’d expected him to succeed. Instead, she’s on a private plane on her way to be married.
Upon his arrival back at Section, Operations proceeds to chastise him like a disobedient and selfish child. Threats of cancellation are once again cast in his direction. Michael doesn’t care. His thoughts are centered on Nikita and her whereabouts. She was gone and out of reach.
In the days that follow Michael opts to sleep in his Section quarters. He accomplishes the tasks assigned to him. He profiles missions, provides tactical support, and goes out into the field. His numbers remain high.
It’s all a poor facsimile of normal.
He couldn’t go home yet. He couldn't go back there and set eyes on the lingering reminders of Nikita’s absence from his life. In the quiet of his office, he ponders the series of events that led them here. Madelaine and Operations felt threatened by the relationship he and Nikita had and they took several drastic steps to remedy the situation.
Other than his brief demotion, Nikita has weathered all punishments that have stemmed from their continued relationship. Nikita is the one they view as expendable. She has been reduced to a valuable pawn. All sense of agency has been stripped from her in the name of keeping him in line. Her skills as an operative mean nothing to them in this petty game that is being played.
Nikita is the one who must deal with the physical and emotional consequences of Gelman’s modification, Nikita must marry against her will and live apart from what little sense of normalcy she’s been able to piece together.
So now Section forces Nikita to give her body to another man--a playboy terrorist. She’s to be another man’s consort; another man’s wife. She must give him her smiles and her company.
All Michael has to do is bear witness to her ordeal. It’s a devastating blow but less so than what Nikita must endure.
Nikita’s transceiver transmits at all hours. A small team has been established to monitor the feed. He knows who they are. They are the same people who look away furtively when they see him. They are the same people who are privy to the new details of Nikita’s undercover life, including the more intimate aspects of it. After his demotion, his reinstatement, and then his actions against Section to deprogram Nikita, his feelings for her are open knowledge now.
Madeline uses that knowledge to further discipline Michael for his insubordination and calls for his input concerning live intel. Michael stands in Systems with a Comm unit in his ear and an infrared image on the screen before him. There’s no video feed but satellite imagery provides an adequate replacement. Around him are the members of the mission’s support team.
Nikita and Volker are wrapping up a late dinner out as is customary in Buenos Aires. Throughout the meal he regales Nikita with stories of his days galavanting across Europe and peppers in every theatrical compliment under the sun to her. Nikita indulges him his compliments goodnaturedly and provides a receptive ear for his tall tales. Appetizers, main course, dessert, and after dinner drinks--Michael observes it all.
The limousine ride to their hotel room is more of the same, but the vehicle’s privacy gives Volker the opportunity to be much more physically demonstrative towards his new bride. The infrared shows him nuzzling the skin of Nikita’s neck. His whispered words of affection come through clearly on the transceiver. One of his hands settles on her upper thigh while Nikita curls her arm around his waist. She laughs low and enticingly at her companion’s innuendos.
Once in their hotel suite, it still surprises Michael that Volker is not as aggressive in pursuing “Anna” now that he’s married to her. Previous surveillance shows that he’s taken to asking for permission to spend the night with her, to which Nikita always agrees, as is the case now. Michael’s alter ego of “Freddie” has come up a few times since they married. That had been anticipated given “Anna’s” turn from “Freddie” to Volker, yet part of Nikita’s mission profile is to appease Volker of any lingering attachment she may have to her former lover.
Nikita slips away momentarily to get more comfortable. By Volker’s reaction a short while later, it’s clear that a lingerie-clad Nikita has made her entrance.
“Anna,” Volker remarks, breathless. “You, my darling, you are a vision Aphrodite herself would envy.”
The infrared image of Nikita wraps her arms around Volker’s neck and leans in to kiss him.
“You’re very sweet, but I’d rather not encourage the gods to smite me,” Nikita responds when they part. Michael can hear amusement in her voice.
The pair recline on the bed, kissing and touching once more. They continue like this for a while. Quiet gasps and moans creep into Michael’s ear. The light susurrus of garments and bedding can be heard.
"So beautiful,” Volker marvels. “How did I get so lucky? Every time you smile at me, every time we’re like this I wonder what I did to deserve you.”
Volker’s hand moves up and down Nikita’s bent leg as he reclines over her.
“It’s not luck, Helmut,” Nikita kisses him lightly. “It’s your kindness.” Another kiss. “Your decency.” And another kiss. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”
Volker moans and kisses Nikita aggressively. She responds by digging her fingers into Volker’s hair.
“Let me see you, my darling Anna, all of you.”
At his request, Nikita rises and straddles Volker. She crosses her arms and removes the slip or negligee she wears. Volker sits up below her and takes one of Nikita’s breasts in his mouth. She tilts her head back and gasps with apparent pleasure.
Michael doesn’t move throughout any of this. His breathing is measured and controlled. His peripheral vision detects the rest of the mission’s team squirming and casting awkward glances at each other. Some even risk a glance at him.
The sounds of two people having sex filters into their corner of Systems. Nikita’s sighs and moans tease him. Volker’s pleasure filled grunts mock him. Michael stands stoically while the woman he loves sleeps with another man.
Nikita’s final cry of release echoes in his ears. All other noise fades into the background.
Eventually, the bedroom goes silent.
The image of Volker strokes Nikita’s back as she rests on top of him.
“Forgive me, my darling,” Volker’s sated voice breaks into the quiet. “My ego insists that I once again ask if you are satisfied. Indulge my self esteem, love. I promise I will eventually stop badgering you.”
Helmut Volker has made it a habit of checking in with “Anna” to gauge her pleasure. It’s a carried over inadequacy from an arrangement he perceives lured his wife away from a lover she would prefer over him, had the prospect of immense wealth not enticed her.
“So your ego needs stroking, huh?” She whispers low and knowing.
Nikita rises slightly and reaches between them.
“Oh,” Volker groans deeply, as if in pain. “Be kind, love. Show me mercy.”
Nikita laughs and kisses Volker. The sound of their lips separating smacks loudly. “Does the phrase, ‘I wish I had a cigarette’ mean anything to you?”
Nikita kisses Volker one final time before she lays her head on his chest.
“Good night, my sweet.”
“Good night, Helmut.”
Michael glances at the screen with Nikita’s biometric monitor. Due to the low contact nature of the mission, it was implanted for additional operative monitoring. He stares at it for several long minutes. When he finally does leave Systems, it shows that Nikita has yet to fall asleep.
“Your analysis, Michael.”
Madeline’s question is unnecessary. They both know his participation was not needed.
“Volker trusts her and he’s beyond smitten with her. Nikita will have no trouble exploiting his affection.”
“Thank you, Michael. That will be all.”
Five hours of surveillance to confirm what they already know. It was a performative exercise meant to remind him of Section’s control.
Michael returns to his office and boots up his computer.
Michael can monitor Nikita’s comings and goings with Volker but only for so long. He’s engaged the reluctant assistance of Birkoff for a live satellite feed, but it can only be used sporadically and only for short bursts. He can only hope that his unauthorized analysis of Volker’s Red Cell dealings will give him the opportunity to extract Nikita from her fraudulent marriage.
Nikita’s absence has had a profound effect on him. This isn’t the numbing uncertainty of whether or not she’d survived the destruction of the Freedom League’s compound or the fear that arose when Operations and Madeline had increased her mission frequency.
He and Nikita have become so intertwined that his thoughts turn to her constantly. It feels like a vital part of himself is missing. Her skin is his skin; her breath is his breath; her life is his life. There are no sure things in Section, but they were both supposed to emerge stronger and together after having survived so much.
Instead he has to fight the urge to claw his way back to her; damn the consequences, but Michael doesn’t want that for her. Nikita’s wellbeing and as much peace as possible in their lives is all he wants for her.
That he continuously draws strength from her presence, her happiness, her vitality is irrelevant as long as she is fulfilled.
Michael wishes he had insight into Nikita’s state of mind. She’s been undercover before but never without regular contact. Right now, it’s strictly one way monitoring. Until something promising comes up, Section will not reach out to her. It can be incredibly isolating and comes with its fair share of pitfalls for operative effectiveness.
Michael knows Nikita can endure. He just doesn’t want her to have to. This mission needs to end. Her “marriage” needs to end. It cannot be allowed to last longer than it already has.
His window of opportunity is coming. If something doesn’t present itself soon, he will create one.
Michael will be ready and this time, he will not fail her.
-30-
“Let’s go home,” Michael tells her after they’ve finished their debrief. Anna Gunther and Frederick Kraus have been delivered into the confines of Section One and they await the results of Madeline’s probing. Section is nearly empty. The hour is late. No missions are on the pad and Comm is occupied by only a skeleton crew of analysts.
Their earlier conversation about Nikita’s less than desirable accommodations hangs between them and by silent agreement Nikita accompanies him back to his home.
It’s not a space they’ve spent much time in. Too many memories of another life, but slowly visions of Nikita are insinuating themselves within those walls.
When they arrive Michael directs her towards his shower and promises of a quick dinner. Food, shelter, and warmth--those are things Michael can provide. It’s the kind of security that comes easy to him. His attempts at providing emotional shelter are a work in progress. Michael still has work to do to safeguard Nikita’s heart.
Her face softens when she looks at him. A light caress of his arm from shoulder to elbow conveys her appreciation at the suggestion before she turns and walks away. Along the way, Nikita begins to peel away the layers of clothing she wears.
Some mushrooms, baby spinach, broth, eggs, and a handful of other ingredients and he assembles a simple egg drop soup that’s ready in 20 minutes.
Nikita emerges rosy-cheeked out of his bathroom from a cloud of steam, smelling of his soap, and wearing one of his sweatpants and one of her camisoles. She uses a towel to dry her wet hair.
Quiet conversation accompanies their meal. Later, they stand side by side as dishes are washed and dried. The domesticity of it all makes Michael’s heart ache.
They both fall into bed exhausted but not too tired to indulge in some pleasurable relaxation. Even before Nikita’s encounter with Dr. Gelman’s behavioral modification program, their couplings had often been tinged with a desperation that suggested the end was nigh. Michael treasures the instances when they can come together simply to savor the joy their bodies can give each other.
Their kisses are languid. Lips drag hotly against each other.
Michael’s fingers skim over the softness of her bare arms. One of his hands cups and massages a breast through the fabric of her camisole. Her nipples harden and Nikita pushes her chest upwards, seeking out more of his touch.
Nikita’s cool hands work their way under this T-shirt and knead the muscles of his back. Her nails rake lightly down until they reach his ass. She’s undulating below him, grounding herself against his clothed erection. Michael can feel his need for her radiating throughout his entire body.
Time has lost all meaning as they luxuriate in each other. It feels obscenely decadent to have this time together.
The texture of Nikita’s tongue against his own and her fingers over his skin pushes his arousal and need for her ever higher. Her soft moans settle pleasantly within him.
Never take her for granted, he tells himself. Savor every moment with her. He, more than anyone, knows that things can change in a heartbeat. A stray bullet, faulty mission intel--those are far more conventional ways that a Section operative can reach their end.
“Think about it,” Michael whispers in her ear after he eases his mouth from hers, to her jawline and then up behind her ear.
Together they push down the sweatpants she wears to reveal bare skin. Her tank top is bunched beneath her breasts. His own arousal continues to pulsate within the confines of his sleep pants.
Michael’s lips skim her collarbone. His tongue tasting the sweetness of her skin. Nikita drags his lips back to hers and slips her tongue in his mouth, where she finds him eager to engage.
For so long, kissing Nikita had been denied to him and when it was allowed it was always within the parameters that Section would dictate. Missions, deception, and betrayal--they tainted the thrill he got from kissing Nikita. Now, it was for them.
Michael bites an earlobe between his teeth and slips two fingers into Nikita’s wet heat. He groans in appreciation, further aroused to find her so ready for him.
“Move in with me.”
If his invitation earlier in the evening was ambiguous, his phrasing this time leaves little room for doubt.
“You just want a crack at me first thing in the morning,” she teases him playfully before a deep sigh and a whimper escapes her lips. It’s immediately followed by a moan as his thumb rubs at her clit in earnest.
“Among other things,” Michael nudges her camisole further up with his nose and his mouth has taken up residence in the valley between her breasts. “I just want you comfortable,” he whispers onto her skin.
When the temptation grows too great, Michael takes one of her rosy nipples into his mouth, enveloping it greedily. Nikita’s response is instant as she strains against the pleasure he’s giving her. The bed sheets beneath her rustle as she adjusts to get the maximum impact of his touch. His fingers continue their steady play on the bundle of nerves at the entrance to her sex as he captures the nipple he was suckling with his teeth and starts to tug.
“Oh,” she exclaims, low and breathy, “So good...Michael.”
To add further evidence to her enjoyment, Nikita’s inner muscles contract steadily on the fingers still pumping inside her. A multitude of emotions play across her features. Michael moves further up her body and captures her lips in a demanding and hungry kiss.
“Inside me...now,” Nikita’s voice is strained as she claws at his back in an attempt to maneuver him where she wants him.
“No.”
She’s squirming below him. Her breathing shallow and her head straining back against the bed. His fingers are caught in the tight grip of her body. Slick and hot and all for him.
“Michael…”
His mouth leaves a trail of damp skin as his lips caress down Nikita’s stomach and further down her body. She further writhes when he pauses to nip at random intervals. The attention he pays to her belly button causes an unexpected bit of laughter to emerge.
The smell of her arousal is intoxicating as Michael uses his fingers to part her folds and places his mouth on her. His tongue licks a long strip from entrance to clit and coats it with the proof of her pleasure. His lips tease at the folds surrounding her sex right before he manuevers his tongue into her very depths.
Her body starts to buck below him but he doesn’t relent. Seeing her like this is incredibly arousing. Michael adds further pressure to her hips and thighs to counteract her increasingly vigorous movement.
His tongue continues to probe her inner walls and he can feel them pulsating. Slick fingers apply pressure to her clit in unison. Michael uses her body’s reactions as a road map to determine the best way to please her. Nikita props her legs down his back. She uses the soles of her feet to push him closer against her and tightens her hands in his hair.
Michael’s relentless ministrations nearly pushes her over the edge. His lips and tongue delve through these hidden parts of her. He adjusts his mouth to capture her clit and it’s enough for a cry to escape Nikita’s lips and her orgsam to hit.
“Oh, God!”
Michael continues to soothe her folds as her release works its way through her. He rides the wave along with her until she’s left completely boneless. From his position by her thighs, Michael looks up in appreciation. Nikita is the very definition of resplendent languor. A light flush coats her chest alongside the slight abrasion his beard has caused, creating the most enticing image. Her breath comes out in ragged bursts.
“You play dirty.” Her voice is tinged with husky amusement.
“Sometimes,” Michael offers as he presses a sucking kiss on the soft skin of her inner thigh near its apex. It’s an intimate spot only he has the privilege of seeing. “When it suits my needs.”
Michael is unapologetic. Oh, how he wants her. Not just in his bed but her companionship, her counsel, and her trust. Despite his best efforts, Michael has let her down more times than he cares to admit. He would spend the rest of his life trying to make amends if Nikita would have him. They, he, have wasted enough time in his opinion.
He can still feel the faint tremors across her skin as she continues to come down from her orgasm. Michael can’t help but smile faintly into her inner thigh. One of Nikita’s hands lands on his head and she starts to slightly scratch his scalp. The sensation is soothing and maddening at the same time. After a few moments Michael removes her hand and places an affectionate wet and lingering kiss on Nikita’s palm.
He looks up Nikita’s body to find a pair of eyes dilated dark looking back at him. He can get lost looking into those eyes. They’re full of promise, desire, and warmth.
“Come here,” she whispers.
Michael can no longer deny himself. He rises and kisses her without restraint. All his need and all his desire is in that kiss.
All remaining clothes are quickly discarded and they both sigh when their naked bodies are finally together.
Nikita takes him in hand, her thumb spreading the precum that has gathered at the tip. After a few aching strokes, she guides him into her. The heat that is hers welcomes him in.
Forehead against forehead, lips against lips, Michael begins what’s a steady and slow rhythm. He relishes the tight grasp of her body. Together they let their bodies speak to each other in ways only lovers truly know.
He leans back on his knees and pushes Nikita’s thighs towards her chest and against his shoulders but not before bestowing each of her calves with a reverent kiss. The new position allows Michael deeper and more satisfying thrusts. She’s so open for him. It's so wanton. Her body is entirely on display. When he looks down he can see himself disappearing into the heavenly embrace of Nikita’s body.
She bows her torso in an unrestrained display of her beauty. The tips of her breasts, hardened in arousal, tease him with their proximity.
“Touch yourself. Show me,” he commands.
A breathy, sultry smile graces Nikita’s lips as her fingers drift down her torso until they settle between her legs. The sensuality that comes so naturally to her is in full effect. Steady, rhythmic breaths escape her lips with every one of his thrusts and she whimpers with the addition of her own expert touch. Their eyes never waver from each other as they settle further into their lovemaking. Michael is lost in the power of her gaze.
“Nikita…”
His voice is strained with intensity. It’s not enough. He needs to feel more of her skin on his. He needs to feel her in his arms. She must sense it as well because her hands make their way up his arms and onto his shoulders. Nikita eases her legs down and wraps them high around his unwavering hips. She pulls him down to her and she buries her face in his neck, her lips latching onto where his pulse beats wildly. Nikita’s moans reverberate through him. Her breasts pillow on his chest, her hardened nipples rake against him. Michael moans deeply as well. He’s awash in sensation that is entirely Nikita.
Michael wraps his arms around her lower back and leans back until he’s sitting on his shins. Nikita follows him easily and looms over him. Her eyes are dark pools of need. Her kiss, uninhibited and intoxicating. She promptly takes control of their lovemaking as she uses her thighs to propel herself repeatedly over him.
Nikita cradles his face in her hands and Michael’s heart wants to burst with the emotion that continues to surge through him. Their breathing intensifies as he hits deeper inside, all those special places within her that will drive her to release.
Her breasts are a temptation. They weave before him perfect and plush. Now at eye level with them, Michael takes the opportunity to capture the neglected nipple from earlier in his mouth. He suckles at her breast, biting and then soothing with his tongue. Her arms go tightly around his shoulders, encouraging him, holding him to her. His hands skim over the perspiration on her back. They settle on the curve of her buttocks, encouraging her movement over him.
Lost in the pursuit of her orgasm, Michael, in his intimate knowledge of her body, knows Nikita is precariously close.
“Look at me,” he implores. The amount of need he hears in his voice should bother him, but it doesn’t. “Nikita.”
Wild and overwhelmed, that’s the only way he can describe the look he sees in Nikita’s eyes. Their lips skim over each other, breathing each other in ragged, needy gulps of air. They stare intensely into each other’s eyes. Michael wants Nikita to see the intensity of his feelings for her. He keeps so much of himself guarded that it’s become second nature, but his feelings for her have broken free. There can be no one else but her. His entire world begins and ends with her. Without Nikita, there is no life. His words may be spare but he wants to share the depths of his feelings for her with his body.
One of his hands maneuvers its way between their bodies where they’re joined. He finds his target and attacks it thoroughly. Nikita’s second climax sweeps over her and Michael calls upon his diminishing reserves of control to not join her in her release. Just a little longer.
Wrapped in each other, Michael gives Nikita a brief respite. She’s so sensitive right now that he wants to spare her any sort of discomfort. Throbbing and aching inside her, he takes the time to settle his own breathing.
Nikita moves her head from where it rests on his shoulder and turns to face him. She smiles somewhat tired but invitingly at him before she whispers in his ear, “More.”
He lowers Nikita’s limp but still cooperative body back onto the bed and finally begins the final journey towards his own release. He moves in her with increasing urgency.
“Michael.”
To hear her utter his name like that, full of passion and desire would lead any man to move heaven and earth for the privilege of making her happy.
Her hands cup him from behind encouraging his increasingly uncoordinated movement. She squeezes him tightly with her vaginal walls and her fingers dig into his ass before he finally lets go, spilling himself into her. A deep groan escapes his lips as he buries his face into Nikita’s neck.
There’s silence around them. Nikita lazily strokes the slick muscles of his back and drops kisses on his neck, his face still nestled in her shoulder. He can feel her rapidly beating heart slowing down to a more acceptable level. Still deep inside her, he knows that Nikita can feel his heart as well.
Michael knows they can’t stay like this. He’s crushing her with his weight, so he slowly pulls out of her body. Nikita mewls in disappointment as she refuses to let him go.
Michael rolls over fully onto his back and he brings Nikita with him. Their bodies are sticky with drying sweat. He doesn’t care one bit. Apparently, neither does Nikita as she settles at his side, her head on his shoulder. He drops a kiss on her hairline and tightens his arm around her.
He watches in amusement as her lips mouth lazily at his pectoral. She nips at it playfully before she props her chin on his chest.
Michael idly plays with the disheveled layers of hair around her face. The blonde tresses slide through his fingers. They’re too short to tuck them behind her ears for very long, but that doesn’t stop him from indulging in the act.
“Is your evil plan to exhaust me to the point that I’m too worn out to leave?”
She punctuates her question with another nip on his chest before arching a knowing eyebrow at her.
He doesn’t answer her but he knows his face, devoid of its normal protective barriers, shows only his desire to keep her near. He runs his knuckles down the side of her face, desperate to further the contact between them.
“I’m on to you,” she teases.
She leans forward and presses her lips to his. Before she can pull back Michael’s tongue seeks entrance and she happily concedes.
Tonight they will sleep sated and untroubled in each other’s arms.
Tomorrow the day will start brighter because Nikita is there.
Nikita moves in with Michael. It’s only for two weeks, but he intends to make the most of it.
“You’ll be sorry you asked. Even two weeks is plenty of time for me to take over your closet.”
Michael admits to himself that he’s so besotted that Nikita’s “threat” barely registers.
It’s hard to measure the amount of satisfaction Michael feels to see his things intermingled with Nikita’s.
His electric razor rests alongside her hair brush on the bathroom counter.
One of his dark sweaters and one of her tank tops are draped on an armchair.
It’s a heady feeling. He could get drunk on her proximity.
His invitation wasn’t a spontaneous request. The trauma of the last few months, in almost losing her, has given him great urgency to live in the moment.
He marvels at the freedom he now has to touch her, whether it’s a squeeze of the shoulder or fingering the ends of her shorter hair.
They’ll have more privacy during these two weeks and it will give him the opportunity to savor the sight of Nikita in his bed every night when they’re not required to be in overnight close quarters standby.
There’s no real Section One policy that prohibits its operatives from becoming involved. It’s just not encouraged. It’s a policy gray area. Sexual relationships can provide useful outlets for stress, but the minute those relationships tip towards the emotional, then prompt retreat becomes necessary.
Michael hopes, hopes that he can convince Nikita to make the arrangement more permanent.
He’s no stranger to cohabitation with someone. First there were the few short years he’d spent with Simone. After his marriage to Elena they lived in their finely appointed home in Beauvais.
His short time with Nikita before the Type One directive and before the Gelman behavioral modification consisted of stolen moments. The most indulgent had been waking up next to her, her skin sleep warm and her body malleable. Often, he’d awake to find Nikita wrapped around him. His leg entrapped by hers and his arm clutched to her chest. She’d tuck her face in the crook of his shoulder where her steady breath would tease his skin. Her eyelids fluttered lightly as she drifted through her sleep cycles. An incomprehensible mumble would sometimes lead to her tightening her grip ever so slightly before relaxing once again.
Other times, she’d spread out on her side of the bed, her arms and legs akimbo with the sheet wrapped around her body. She shamelessly claimed his bed in sleep and it amused Michael that she was so blatantly territorial.
In the mornings, getting her out of bed could be an adventure. Sometimes she’d glare at him over the rim of the coffee cup he’d bring her. Other mornings had Nikita sitting up slightly disoriented, almost as if she’d forgotten where she was. Upon seeing him, what looked like a relieved smile would ripple across her face. She’d always hug him a little tighter on those mornings. Her kiss would linger just a little longer as well.
One morning Nikita was up before he was. Michael awoke and had reached across the bed to find the space next to him empty and cold. The loft was silent and sunlight streamed through the large windows. He silently rose and made his way to the edge of his bedroom space. Below on the lower level was Nikita. He watched as she silently went through a morning yoga sequence. She flowed easily through boat pose, camel pose, a shoulder stand, and a final twist. The warm orange glow of the early hour lit Nikita aglow. She was luminous in her grace and strength. As a Section recruit Michael had seen her attack her exercise and training routine with vigor. She took easily to the physical exertion it provided. Her appreciation of more meditative methods was slower in coming. Observing her now felt different than observing inside Section. He felt voyeuristic.
“You should have come down,” Nikita commented after she was finished and Michael had left his perch by the bed. She towelled off the light perspiration from her neck and tightened her ponytail. “You could have joined me.”
“It felt private. I didn’t want to intrude more than I had.”
The look Nikita gave him was one of tenderness. It was a look that gripped at his heart like a vise. They spend so much of their time under scrutiny. He wanted to give her as much privacy as he possibly could.
“Good morning,” Michael said immediately after, not wanting to break the moment but knowing it was prudent to do so. He dropped a lingering kiss on her lips and squeezed her waist lightly, his pinky caressing the sliver of skin between her tank top and pajama pants.
“Hi,” she whispered back before pulling him back to her for a longer morning greeting.
Later, over a breakfast of tartine, fruit and coffee, Nikita shared with him what had led to her regard of yoga as meditation. It was another fascinating facet of the woman Michael never wanted to stop discovering.
Lately, he’s found Nikita staring off into space.
He briefly thought back to the vacant and distant Nikita who had occupied the hallways of Section One. It also brought back the too recent painful memory of watching Nikita passively absorb the Gelman maintenance drugs. Drugs that were taking her further away from him. As hellish as the entire ordeal had been, that image of Nikita haunted him the most.
Michael knows Nikita is still processing everything that was done to her. She’s also still processing everything that she did during the last few months. It pains him to see her struggling with her emotions. Yet, he is in no position to demand that she talk to him. For all the times she’d try to open the lines of communication between them, he’d hold her at arm’s length, choosing instead to leave her confused and angry at his silence.
He can only hope that when Nikita is ready to articulate what she’d gone through, she will reach out.
In the end, their cohabitation only makes it one week.
After verifying the information gleaned from the interrogations of Anna Gunther and Frederick Kraus, their orders are to impersonate them and infiltrate the hedonistic party circle of Red Cell weapons supplier Helmut Volker.
What comes after is an infantile attempt by Volker to woo Nikita in front of him. Section decidedly intervenes, but not for the better. Nikita is to accept Volker’s off the cuff and self-serving marriage proposal.
On the surface, the decision has some strategic appeal for Section. Monitor Volker’s Red Cell weapons dealings from the inside and use the intel to disrupt their distribution. However the indefinite posting of an operative is excessive for such an operation, and the original profile of eliminating Volker’s connection is much more efficient.
It frustrates Michael that Section’s antiterrorism objectives are being manipulated to serve personal agendas. It’s becoming too much of a common occurrence. Internal politics are insinuating themselves into mission parameters. At the center of it all is Section continuing to insert itself between his and Nikita’s sometimes fragile relationship.
Nikita takes the news of her forced marriage with a resigned inevitability. She doesn’t fight and protest the way she likely would have done so before. While Michael will always advocate patience and careful planning, Nikita’s defeated attitude has him worried. He, on the other hand, takes to the new obstacle like he’s taken to every other hurdle they’ve encountered, with dedicated focus and planning. He and Nikita will work together to free her of the Section mandated obligation. Helmut Volker will be revealed as a poorly chosen associate for Red Cell to engage with. There will be no need for Nikita to marry him or to monitor his terrorist contacts.
Despite his assurances, Nikita has started to withdraw into Anna, the woman who, under the guise of financial stability, is to wed Helmut Volker. It’s a practical approach, one he’s engaged in himself, but it saddens him that Nikita even needs to make such preparations.
They will not fail. He will not fail...and yet...he does.
As he watches the private plane that will take Nikita and Volker to Argentina and away from him, for the first time in a very long time, Michael feels the sinking feeling of failure.
Failure is not a concept he’s entirely familiar with. His personal failures to Nikita are numerous, but Michael knew he could always count on his efficiency and skill as an operative to accomplish what he needed. Losing Nikita like this unnerves him.
Section had dispatched a team to covertly undo the sabotage he’d committed on Helmut Volker’s Red Cell shipment. For him, it had been a simple operation. One that was routine as far as profiles were concerned and yet something telling had slipped through his meticulous planning. Something he’d done had alerted either Operations or Madeline of his intentions.
Somewhere, he’d made a mistake. He’d even failed to consider a contingency, and it cost Nikita dearly.
Mentally, Michael began to shift through the data at his disposal, including his own actions and the conclusion he arrives at nearly cripples him. When it mattered most, he got sloppy. He’d go as far as to say that he’s been reckless. He’d even begun to flaunt his supposed cleverness. Had he not a week earlier confidently declared to Nikita that knowledge of Adrian’s whereabouts would give them the leverage to finally have the relationship they craved?
Who was this reckless man he’d become?
Was that not what had doomed Jurgen?
Michael had teetered for so long suppressing his emotions that now he’s inundated by them. All this time he’s damned Madeline and Operations for letting their personal ambitions interfere with Section One’s objectives. Now, he too has fallen victim to something similar. Has his love made him blind? Has his love made him a weaker operative just as Madeline has insinuated? How could he have failed Nikita so profoundly?
Nikita played her role to perfection, even letting another man touch her to maintain the charade of their upcoming nuptials. It was the one thing he always tried to spare her from, but this time it was necessary. What must Nikita be thinking? She’d expected to be extracted from her mission. She’d expected him to succeed. Instead, she’s on a private plane on her way to be married.
Upon his arrival back at Section, Operations proceeds to chastise him like a disobedient and selfish child. Threats of cancellation are once again cast in his direction. Michael doesn’t care. His thoughts are centered on Nikita and her whereabouts. She was gone and out of reach.
In the days that follow Michael opts to sleep in his Section quarters. He accomplishes the tasks assigned to him. He profiles missions, provides tactical support, and goes out into the field. His numbers remain high.
It’s all a poor facsimile of normal.
He couldn’t go home yet. He couldn't go back there and set eyes on the lingering reminders of Nikita’s absence from his life. In the quiet of his office, he ponders the series of events that led them here. Madelaine and Operations felt threatened by the relationship he and Nikita had and they took several drastic steps to remedy the situation.
Other than his brief demotion, Nikita has weathered all punishments that have stemmed from their continued relationship. Nikita is the one they view as expendable. She has been reduced to a valuable pawn. All sense of agency has been stripped from her in the name of keeping him in line. Her skills as an operative mean nothing to them in this petty game that is being played.
Nikita is the one who must deal with the physical and emotional consequences of Gelman’s modification, Nikita must marry against her will and live apart from what little sense of normalcy she’s been able to piece together.
So now Section forces Nikita to give her body to another man--a playboy terrorist. She’s to be another man’s consort; another man’s wife. She must give him her smiles and her company.
All Michael has to do is bear witness to her ordeal. It’s a devastating blow but less so than what Nikita must endure.
Nikita’s transceiver transmits at all hours. A small team has been established to monitor the feed. He knows who they are. They are the same people who look away furtively when they see him. They are the same people who are privy to the new details of Nikita’s undercover life, including the more intimate aspects of it. After his demotion, his reinstatement, and then his actions against Section to deprogram Nikita, his feelings for her are open knowledge now.
Madeline uses that knowledge to further discipline Michael for his insubordination and calls for his input concerning live intel. Michael stands in Systems with a Comm unit in his ear and an infrared image on the screen before him. There’s no video feed but satellite imagery provides an adequate replacement. Around him are the members of the mission’s support team.
Nikita and Volker are wrapping up a late dinner out as is customary in Buenos Aires. Throughout the meal he regales Nikita with stories of his days galavanting across Europe and peppers in every theatrical compliment under the sun to her. Nikita indulges him his compliments goodnaturedly and provides a receptive ear for his tall tales. Appetizers, main course, dessert, and after dinner drinks--Michael observes it all.
The limousine ride to their hotel room is more of the same, but the vehicle’s privacy gives Volker the opportunity to be much more physically demonstrative towards his new bride. The infrared shows him nuzzling the skin of Nikita’s neck. His whispered words of affection come through clearly on the transceiver. One of his hands settles on her upper thigh while Nikita curls her arm around his waist. She laughs low and enticingly at her companion’s innuendos.
Once in their hotel suite, it still surprises Michael that Volker is not as aggressive in pursuing “Anna” now that he’s married to her. Previous surveillance shows that he’s taken to asking for permission to spend the night with her, to which Nikita always agrees, as is the case now. Michael’s alter ego of “Freddie” has come up a few times since they married. That had been anticipated given “Anna’s” turn from “Freddie” to Volker, yet part of Nikita’s mission profile is to appease Volker of any lingering attachment she may have to her former lover.
Nikita slips away momentarily to get more comfortable. By Volker’s reaction a short while later, it’s clear that a lingerie-clad Nikita has made her entrance.
“Anna,” Volker remarks, breathless. “You, my darling, you are a vision Aphrodite herself would envy.”
The infrared image of Nikita wraps her arms around Volker’s neck and leans in to kiss him.
“You’re very sweet, but I’d rather not encourage the gods to smite me,” Nikita responds when they part. Michael can hear amusement in her voice.
The pair recline on the bed, kissing and touching once more. They continue like this for a while. Quiet gasps and moans creep into Michael’s ear. The light susurrus of garments and bedding can be heard.
"So beautiful,” Volker marvels. “How did I get so lucky? Every time you smile at me, every time we’re like this I wonder what I did to deserve you.”
Volker’s hand moves up and down Nikita’s bent leg as he reclines over her.
“It’s not luck, Helmut,” Nikita kisses him lightly. “It’s your kindness.” Another kiss. “Your decency.” And another kiss. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”
Volker moans and kisses Nikita aggressively. She responds by digging her fingers into Volker’s hair.
“Let me see you, my darling Anna, all of you.”
At his request, Nikita rises and straddles Volker. She crosses her arms and removes the slip or negligee she wears. Volker sits up below her and takes one of Nikita’s breasts in his mouth. She tilts her head back and gasps with apparent pleasure.
Michael doesn’t move throughout any of this. His breathing is measured and controlled. His peripheral vision detects the rest of the mission’s team squirming and casting awkward glances at each other. Some even risk a glance at him.
The sounds of two people having sex filters into their corner of Systems. Nikita’s sighs and moans tease him. Volker’s pleasure filled grunts mock him. Michael stands stoically while the woman he loves sleeps with another man.
Nikita’s final cry of release echoes in his ears. All other noise fades into the background.
Eventually, the bedroom goes silent.
The image of Volker strokes Nikita’s back as she rests on top of him.
“Forgive me, my darling,” Volker’s sated voice breaks into the quiet. “My ego insists that I once again ask if you are satisfied. Indulge my self esteem, love. I promise I will eventually stop badgering you.”
Helmut Volker has made it a habit of checking in with “Anna” to gauge her pleasure. It’s a carried over inadequacy from an arrangement he perceives lured his wife away from a lover she would prefer over him, had the prospect of immense wealth not enticed her.
“So your ego needs stroking, huh?” She whispers low and knowing.
Nikita rises slightly and reaches between them.
“Oh,” Volker groans deeply, as if in pain. “Be kind, love. Show me mercy.”
Nikita laughs and kisses Volker. The sound of their lips separating smacks loudly. “Does the phrase, ‘I wish I had a cigarette’ mean anything to you?”
“Such pretty words.”
“Hardly. Just slightly crass. But they’re also true. My toes are still tingly.”
Nikita kisses Volker one final time before she lays her head on his chest.
“Good night, my sweet.”
“Good night, Helmut.”
Michael glances at the screen with Nikita’s biometric monitor. Due to the low contact nature of the mission, it was implanted for additional operative monitoring. He stares at it for several long minutes. When he finally does leave Systems, it shows that Nikita has yet to fall asleep.
“Your analysis, Michael.”
Madeline’s question is unnecessary. They both know his participation was not needed.
“Volker trusts her and he’s beyond smitten with her. Nikita will have no trouble exploiting his affection.”
“Thank you, Michael. That will be all.”
Five hours of surveillance to confirm what they already know. It was a performative exercise meant to remind him of Section’s control.
Michael returns to his office and boots up his computer.
Michael can monitor Nikita’s comings and goings with Volker but only for so long. He’s engaged the reluctant assistance of Birkoff for a live satellite feed, but it can only be used sporadically and only for short bursts. He can only hope that his unauthorized analysis of Volker’s Red Cell dealings will give him the opportunity to extract Nikita from her fraudulent marriage.
Nikita’s absence has had a profound effect on him. This isn’t the numbing uncertainty of whether or not she’d survived the destruction of the Freedom League’s compound or the fear that arose when Operations and Madeline had increased her mission frequency.
He and Nikita have become so intertwined that his thoughts turn to her constantly. It feels like a vital part of himself is missing. Her skin is his skin; her breath is his breath; her life is his life. There are no sure things in Section, but they were both supposed to emerge stronger and together after having survived so much.
Instead he has to fight the urge to claw his way back to her; damn the consequences, but Michael doesn’t want that for her. Nikita’s wellbeing and as much peace as possible in their lives is all he wants for her.
That he continuously draws strength from her presence, her happiness, her vitality is irrelevant as long as she is fulfilled.
Michael wishes he had insight into Nikita’s state of mind. She’s been undercover before but never without regular contact. Right now, it’s strictly one way monitoring. Until something promising comes up, Section will not reach out to her. It can be incredibly isolating and comes with its fair share of pitfalls for operative effectiveness.
Michael knows Nikita can endure. He just doesn’t want her to have to. This mission needs to end. Her “marriage” needs to end. It cannot be allowed to last longer than it already has.
His window of opportunity is coming. If something doesn’t present itself soon, he will create one.
Michael will be ready and this time, he will not fail her.
-30-