In the end, Walter decided to hold the wedding in the backyard. The less exposure, the better, he figured. And security was controllable by him and Birkoff. It wasn’t as if they were inviting anyone but themselves. It would be too dangerous, no matter how much they might have wanted to share this one of a kind experience with friends they had made over the years at Section.

Nikita was upstairs fidgeting like the nervous bride she was supposed to be. Michael was swearing at Birkoff, who was attempting to tie his tie and get his cummerbund to stay straight. Walter had donned a white bandana in honor of this special occasion, and he wore a big grin that no amount of naysaying could erase.

Actually, Walter had decided that everyone would wear white. It was so diametrically opposed to mission black, he assumed it would work. The minister was already here, and Walter had even obtained the necessary licenses. As far as he could tell, there was absolutely no obstacle in the way of this marriage taking place today. Even the sun had consented to shine brightly, and there was not a cloud in the sky. As blue as Nikita’s eyes. Walter smiled to himself. He had outdone himself, he really had.

When Michael had brought Nikita back from ring shopping last week, Walter was amazed at how quickly everything suddenly began to fall into place. The engagement ring was exquisite, and Walter was no judge of jewelry. It was a square-cut blue sapphire in a platinum setting. Michael said it called out to him from the jewelry case. It was the exact shade of Nikita’s eyes. Walter had huffed and puffed at that, but he had to admit, it was a close match. As for the wedding band, Michael was being very secretive about that. Neither Walter nor Birkoff had seen the actual ring. Nikita herself claimed she had not seen it, and Michael promised that it was a special surprise.

Well, it was time to get Nikita downstairs. Walter rubbed his hands together. God, he loved it when a good plan came together.

***

Nikita looked at Walter in alarm. "Walter, I think my breakfast is about to come back up." He stared at her. "No, no, no, Sugar, you can’t do that now. You’ll ruin your dress."

"Tell that to my stomach. It seems to have a mind of its own." She held her hand over her mouth and ran for the bathroom, her veil trailing behind her.

Meanwhile, in the other room, Michael slapped Birkoff’s hand away for the fourth time. "You keep tying the knot wrong, Birkoff." Birkoff sighed. "Well, if you’d hold still, Michael, it would be a helluva lot easier."

Michael flushed, trying to control his breathing. He felt almost agitated now that things were coming down to the wire. It was what he wanted most, it was what he feared most, all wrapped up into one. "I don’t deserve her," he muttered to himself.

Birkoff glanced at Michael, seeing how distraught he was, and stopped trying to tie the knot. "Michael, I don’t know if this means anything coming from me, but...you really are the one for Nikita. I never had a chance. No one else did. Once she saw you, that was it, man."

Michael half-smiled, exhaling suddenly. "Thanks, Birkoff."

Birkoff grinned. "Now don’t screw it up, okay?" Michael laughed and felt his muscles relax slightly.

***

Walter held Nikita’s head as she retched into the toilet. "Sugar, I hate to break it to you, but you must be pregnant, test or no test."

She gasped for breath, and Walter wet a washcloth with cold water, applying it carefully to her newly-made-up face. "The test was negative, Michael said so."

"Sugar, that was almost two weeks ago. In the meantime, you two have been a lot...um..closer. Things change. Test results change...." he said meaningfully.

"Oh, Walter!" She looked both shocked and ecstatic at the same time.

Walter felt her throw her arms around his neck and hug him till he couldn’t breathe. "Hey, sweetness, I’m an old guy, don’t waste your love on me. Bet there’s someone outside who would love to hear this, though."

"No!" she almost yelled. Walter raised an eyebrow curiously. She smiled. "I mean, no, this can be our little secret for now. I’ll tell him after the wedding, Walter. He looks tense enough as it is."

Walter had to admit she had a point. He agreed not to say anything to Michael. But he couldn’t wait to tell Birkoff. He hadn’t promised not to tell him, he thought gleefully.

***

The music began to play. The flowers, every color and every variety, swayed in the gentle breeze, as if to the melody. The minister waited at the makeshift pulpit. There was only one guest. A mysterious woman with dark hair, dressed in somber colors, more fitting for a funeral. Madeline. How she had found them, Michael didn’t know, but it was definitely her. He glanced nervously at Birkoff, taking another deep breath. He was dressed in white from head to toe. It set off Michael’s dark hair and light eyes, somehow managing to make him look younger, less formidable, and more vulnerable. He waited tensely as the wedding march began. He looked over his shoulder and there she was...Nikita.

Clad in a simple but elegant white gown, Nikita looked radiant. Her eyes lit on Michael’s face, and she finally felt beautiful, inside and out. The love reflected in his eyes touched her heart and soul. They were one at that moment in time. Madeline followed Nikita’s progress down the aisle on Walter’s arm with a characteristically bittersweet smile.

"Dearly beloved..." the minister began the ceremony.

Even Birkoff looked excited. He had never seen Nikita look more beautiful, and he had to admit, he was more than a little envious that she would be Michael’s forever. But when he saw the look on Michael’s face, he knew that they were meant for each other, and no one else.

Michael could not hide his feelings any longer. His heart was filled to overflowing with love and affection. The facade he had maintained for so long crumbled away, too brittle to contain the volatile emotions that roiled beneath the surface. He was a man transformed, and Nikita saw it. She saw it in his eyes, his face, his lips. She gazed at him longingly through the gauzy veil, feeling the strongest urge to rip it away and bury herself in Michael’s embrace. She saw the unshed tears in his eyes, and she wanted to kiss them away, one by one. We are as one, my love, she thought, we are as one.

As the vows continued, Nikita was certain she had not heard a word the minister said. She had eyes only for Michael, and if she remembered anything, it would only be the overpowering love she saw in his face. Finally, when she could resist no longer, she touched his face. The minister looked startled for a moment, but smiled. He had seen many things, and this did not seem all that bizarre in his experience. Michael reached out then, and touched the side of Nikita’s face in similar fashion. It was an unplanned but beautiful moment, and Walter sighed with pleasure as he took the photograph commemorating it.

When the minister asked for the rings, Michael stood, transfixed, unable to respond to anything external. But Birkoff’s harsh whisper finally penetrated. "Michael, take the rings. The rings!"

Michael took the wedding band from Birkoff, who had not even had a chance to examine it, due to Michael’s vigilance in guarding it from prying eyes. It was a white gold band, evidently very old. It had belonged to Michael’s grandmother. It was one of the few things he kept from his old life. Simone had never worn it, nor had Elena. It was something that had belonged only to Michael, and now Nikita. On the inside, their names were engraved, along with the date. He slid the ring onto her finger, his hand trembling. Nikita gasped at its beauty.

Michael then nudged Birkoff, and to Nikita’s amazement, Birkoff produced another ring. He gave the ring to Nikita this time, and she stared at him, unable to process what he wanted her to do with it. Birkoff whispered, "It’s for Michael, take it."

She blinked. Taking the ring in her shaking hands, she looked at it. It was identical to the other ring, but larger. It had belonged to Michael’s late grandfather. He had never worn it, but he knew it would fit. It was that kind of day. Everything was going their way. She slid the ring onto Michael’s left hand, and she heard his intake of breath. It fit. Perfectly.

When the minister said, "I now pronounce you man and wife," Nikita could not believe her ears. It was true. They had safely travailed the wedding ceremony, and they were married. The minister bade Michael to kiss the bride, and he pulled back Nikita’s veil gently. When he kissed Nikita, it was as if they had never kissed before. Their lips met tenderly, Michael’s hands framing Nikita’s face lovingly.

"I love you, Nikita."

"I love you, Michael."

A second later, the poignant moment was broken by the awkward clapping of someone in the back of the yard. Michael and Nikita turned as one, and the others gradually joined them. Michael frowned, trying to see who it was. Madeline gasped. Walter and Birkoff automatically formed a protective circle around the couple.

Reality had reared its ugly head. In the form of a nightmare come to life. It was Perry Bauer.

"How remiss of you not to invite me to the wedding. I always love a good cry, so cleansing, don’t you agree?" Bauer said as he pointed his gun at Michael and Nikita.

Michael stepped in front of Nikita, trying to shield her with his body. Then he realized that he had no weapon. He hardly expected to be doing battle with anyone, much less Section’s worst example of the wisdom of keeping former enemies on the payroll, on his wedding day. He didn’t know how Bauer found them, but he could imagine. Someone in Section was leaking information to the double agent, that much was clear. He didn’t care about that now, though, his priority was Nikita.

"Move away from the girl, Michael." Bauer motioned with the gun.

Michael stood steadfast, his eyes never moving from Bauer’s. "Not a chance."

Nikita stared at Michael, her heart in her eyes. He would sacrifice himself to protect her, she knew that. But she didn’t want to live without Michael. She couldn’t. Not even if she was pregnant with his child.

Bauer grinned wickedly. "I don’t need you, Michael. I just want the girl."

Michael shook his head. "No way. I won’t let you take her."

"Touching, but unnecessary. Okay..." He pointed the gun at Nikita, and Michael flinched. Madeline moved backwards, trying to join the small group protecting Nikita.

He fired the gun once, and Nikita went down, despite the group’s best efforts. Michael screamed, "Nooooooooo! NIKITA!!!!!!!"

Bauer scrambled into their little circle, and somehow, during the struggle, he managed to grab Nikita and drag her free from her protectors, all the while keeping the gun carefully trained on the others. Michael was crazed, but Walter and Birkoff held onto him, refusing to allow him to go after Bauer, fearing they would lose both of them if he did.

All they could do was watch as Bauer hoisted Nikita over his shoulder and left. And listen to Michael’s anguished cries of "Nikita!" as the couple faded into the distance.

Madeline touched Michael’s arm. "I’ll bring Section in on it, Michael, we’ll get her back." Michael flinched as if burned by her touch. "You can’t! We don’t exist inside Section anymore! You did this! You brought him here! Why?" He collapsed to his knees, and Walter went immediately to his side.

"Michael, you’ve got to pull yourself together. Nikita needs you. And Michael...she’s pregnant."

Walter’s words echoed inside Michael’s head like a scream that refused to fade. "Nikita..." he whispered. And there was nothing anyone could do for him.