Michael was so distraught, Madeline wanted to sedate him. He glared at her and rose unsteadily to his feet. She immediately backed off, sensing the power that still throbbed throughout his body. He shook off Walter’s hand on his shoulder, managing to look truly menacing, despite the tears that threatened to fall. He smeared his face with the back of his hand and eyed Madeline coolly. His hand pointed in her face, he began to speak, in a low voice that nonetheless promised vengeance. "You were not invited here, Madeline. I don’t know how you found us, but you’re the reason Bauer was able to take Nikita from me."

Madeline flinched despite her years of training. She had never been afraid of Michael before, no matter how much they pushed him, because he had always fallen into line, one way or another. But she didn’t know this man, this Michael. He frightened her. The look in his eyes was that of a man driven beyond safety and humanity. This was a man who would not hesitate to kill her where she stood, and she knew it.

"I helped you escape Section, Michael, surely that counts for something," she said, trying to assuage her guilt over Nikita’s abduction.

"Right now, nothing counts for a helluva lot, Madeline." Michael’s eyes narrowed, and it became difficult to tell just what color they were, if indeed they had any color at all right now.

Walter felt strangely protective of Michael, and he had absolutely no difficulty letting Madeline know how things stood with the rest of Michael’s family. "Seems your little pet, Bauer, slipped his leash, Madeline. How did that happen?" he sneered.

Birkoff, his eyes wide and dark with fear for Nikita’s well-being, seemed almost out of it till he heard Walter’s voice. "Walter..." Birkoff began to pant. "Um, Walter...?" Michael turned around, just in time to catch Birkoff falling to the ground. "Walter! Forget Madeline!" Michael shouted.

"Birkoff’s having a seizure!" Walter yelled. "Jeez! Birkoff, you better not die on me, kiddo!" Together, he and Michael carefully laid Birkoff out on the lawn of the backyard, so festively decorated for the wedding. It seemed tragically inappropriate now. There was nothing they could do, but turn his head to the side and make sure his airway was unobstructed. It didn’t last very long. But when Birkoff came out of it, he looked embarrassed, as if he had done something shameful.

Walter grabbed the boy’s hand and squeezed it hard. "It’s okay, kid, you didn’t do anything wrong." Birkoff turned his head away and started to cry, curling his body into a tight ball. Michael looked at Walter, his own tears still drenching the lashes of his dark grey eyes. Such sadness. Such pain. When there finally should have been none. Michael laid a hand on Birkoff’s shoulder. "Ssh, it’s okay, it’s okay," he whispered to the younger man.

Walter hadn’t even begun to deal with the pain of losing Sugar. He was mesmerized by the sight of Michael turning away his own pain to take care of Birkoff. He had changed. He had come back from the abyss that once was his life’s work, and he had been forever changed by Nikita’s love and compassion. And now he was able to give some of it back to those who needed it more.

Madeline’s bittersweet chocolate eyes gleamed suspiciously with unshed tears. She had wanted to do something positive today, she had wanted to finish the chapter in her life that was Michael and Nikita’s story with a happy ending, and instead, she had been the unwitting catalyst for tragedy. Yet again. It was a story that was not unfamiliar to her.

"Michael," she said, trying to regain her composure. Michael turned and looked over his shoulder at her. "We have nothing to say to each other, Madeline. Whatever debt I owed you is paid in full. You’ve destroyed everyone and everything I have ever loved." He finished speaking barely above a whisper, his throat and his chest were so tight with pain. "No more."

"But I can help--"

Michael jumped up suddenly, a vein throbbing in his neck. He held out his hand to Walter, who looked on curiously. "Gun!" he commanded.

Walter didn’t even think twice about disobeying Michael. He might be obviously grief-stricken, but he had never been more in control in his life. He snapped the gun sharply into Michael’s palm, then followed that with the clip. Michael expertly loaded the clip into the gun without even looking down at it, and aimed the gun dispassionately at Madeline. "You see the danger in teaching someone to kill in cold blood, Madeline? They get good at it. I’m very good at it. Would you like a firsthand demonstration of just how good?"

She shook her head mutely, tears tracking down her cheeks. Walter shoved her backwards, and she almost lost her balance. "Get out, Madeline. You’ve done more than enough."

She turned to walk away, her steps slow and somewhat awkward now. No longer graceful and elegant, she walked like the damaged woman she truly was. Michael would have felt sorry for her if he could, but his mind was completely occupied with tracking down and killing Bauer without risking either Nikita or their baby.

His eyes flickered back and forth, as they sometimes did when he was thinking, and then they stopped. He stuck the gun in the waistband of his pants and took off towards the house with a purposeful stride. Walter helped Birkoff into a sitting position, torn between wanting to stay with the boy and needing to know what Michael was going to do.

Birkoff shakily said to Walter, "I’ll be okay, Walter, please, help Michael find Nikita." Walter nodded at Birkoff and the still-shaken minister. He thumped the boy on the back and headed for the house in a dead run, taking the back steps two at a time.

He found Michael sitting on the bed of the master bedroom upstairs. He looked blank except for the tears that coursed down his face, seemingly of their own volition. He held Nikita’s kitten in his arms, and the kitten, obviously sensing something was wrong, mewed in protest. He glanced up when Walter entered the room. "Walter...we have to find her."

"I know, Michael." Walter took the kitten from Michael’s arms and put it down, where it scurried across the floor, slipping and sliding on the hardwood. He reached out to Michael, and Michael fell into his arms, brokenly sobbing for several minutes. Walter held him as he cried, tears in his own eyes, knowing how close they had been to having a life, only to have it stolen away through the carelessness of someone beyond their control.

Bauer glanced down at Nikita’s limp body. Her white wedding gown was stained with blood that poured profusely from the gunshot wound in her side. Bauer drove rapidly and expertly through the mountainous countryside surrounding the city, searching for a place to stop. He needed Nikita alive. She was no good to him dead. He would have to find someone to give her the medical attention she needed. He headed for the one place where he knew they would have to take care of her. Section One.

When he arrived, he lifted Nikita over his shoulder and carried her into Section’s van access. Greg Hillinger met him at the door to van access, whispering to Bauer, "What, are you crazy? You can’t bring her in here! Operations is looking for her! To cancel her!"

He put her down on her feet, and she slumped against Bauer’s side, unable to stand on her own. He supported her with one arm around her waist. "Look, errand boy, go tell your master that I need Nikita alive! Or he can do without any further intel from me! Ever!"

Greg nodded reluctantly. He called for a couple of operatives to assist them in taking Nikita up to Medlab. Medlab personnel, alerted by Greg, grabbed Nikita, pulling her onto a stretcher without difficulty. They cut her gown apart with sharp scissors, seemingly uncaring that she might want to salvage something from her wedding. Had Nikita been conscious, she might have objected, but as it was, she could not say a word.

They lifted her as one man, four men placing her unclad body onto the operating room table. They had to stop the bleeding quickly. Nikita had lost so much blood already, she was pale and cold to the touch. Her lips had begun to turn blue from cyanosis. Her nailbeds were cyanotic as well. Had Bauer been able to see into the operating room, he would have had reason to worry, because the truth was, Nikita was in critical condition. His one gunshot had managed to tear her spleen, which was why she was bleeding so profusely. They were going to have to remove her spleen as well as remove the bullet. All of that meant hours of surgery. Unfortunately for Nikita, she didn’t have a few more hours left in her.

***

While Nikita’s fate lay in Bauer’s, and ultimately, in Operations’ hands, Michael was trying desperately to pull himself together. He pulled away from Walter, unable to make eye contact with the older man, because he knew he needed to be strong now. Seeing Walter’s pain made it real to him. He saw how much the old operative grieved for Nikita, and since there was nothing he could do until he found her, Michael said nothing.

"Is there...any chance at all...we could reactivate her clock...just to find her?" Michael spoke haltingly, finding it hard to form words and sentences. He supposed he was almost in shock. He felt lightheaded and dizzy, but he knew he was not wounded. Well, not physically.

Walter shook his head. "No, Michael. We have no clue where Bauer took her either. It could be anywhere here in Europe."

Michael pounded his fist into his hand. "Damn Madeline! If she hadn’t traced us, Bauer would never have found us!"

"Michael...there’s someone else to blame, too." Walter dropped his head to his chest and looked guilty.

"What? Who?" Michael asked sharply.

He finally realized by Walter’s abject silence that Walter meant himself. "Walter, you’re no more to blame than I am." Walter shrugged. "Not true. I held you back, I kept you from grabbing a gun and putting a bullet through that SOB’s head. You would’ve, too."

"You were protecting Nikita, Walter." Michael touched the older man’s sleeve. "No, Michael, we were protecting you. Actually, we thought if you went after him, we’d lose both of you."

The enormity of their loss loomed before them like a massive canyon. "Operations would be proud to know he had taught us so well. We’ve reduced Nikita to acceptable collateral," he said, the horror in his voice understated, but just as palpable.

Walter reached out to hug Michael, but Michael drew back, closing his eyes. "No, I have to get myself together, Walter. Or Nikita won’t be coming back to us."

He stood up, not realizing his white suit was stained with Nikita’s blood. "I’m going to take a shower. Get Birkoff and meet me downstairs in twenty minutes."

After he had stripped off his clothes, Michael stepped into the shower. He never saw Walter grab the bloody clothing and whisk it away, so he never had to lay eyes on it again. The older man was blaming himself for something beyond his control. Michael was well-acquainted with the feeling. He had done it for years. Guilt had been slowly consuming his soul until he met Nikita. He blamed himself for Simone’s death. He had not given her the back-up team she requested, and when they were separated during a firestorm, he had been forced to return to Section without her. Unbeknownst to him, Simone had been taken prisoner by a terrorist and tortured for three years. When he found her alive, only to lose her again, he had Nikita to lean on. Nikita had been there during every single difficult moment in the past three years.

Of course, he also blamed himself for not being a good husband to Elena, or a good father to Adam, and when Section faked his death and decreed that he must never see either of them again, he willingly complied. He was not worthy of anyone’s love or trust. How could he be? He was a monstrous creation that Section breathed life into, a machine-like man who could kill in cold blood. But slowly, over the past three years, he had begun the process of becoming human again. At Nikita’s behest, despite the way he mistreated her, lied to her, or manipulated her mind or body, she believed in him. She had taken a leap of faith, and believed in him when no one else, including himself, did. A woman who loved like that was beyond priceless. She had been his miracle. His gift from whatever God he still believed in.

He let the water run into his face and wash away the tears that still filled his eyes and choked his throat. He could not let her down. If he failed, she died. It was as simple as that. He could not fail.

He leaned forward on his arms, his hair driven into his face by the shower’s spray. "I love you, Kita. I’m not ready to give you up. Don’t you die on me now, you can’t go without me."

Nikita woke from her drug-induced sleep screaming Michael’s name. She tossed restlessly back and forth until they were forced to restrain her. Bauer glanced at the woman thrashing in the recovery room. "God, can’t you do something about that noise? She’s going to raise all of Section with her screaming. If Operations hears her, there’ll be all hell to pay."

The Medlab doctor shrugged, his face set in a frown. He didn’t like Bauer, but he was often forced to deal with the aftermath of his projects. "Her blood pressure is already dangerously low. If we sedate her, she’ll probably slip into shock again and die. Was that what you wanted?"

"No, it isn’t what I want, you fool." Bauer looked at Nikita with disdain. "More trouble than she’s worth, probably."

"Then you shouldn’t have shot her," the doctor said derisively, evidently not caring about living to collect his pension. Bauer glared at him, grabbing him by the neck. "Listen, you piece of scum, when I want your opinion, I’ll give it to you. Understand?" The doctor nodded silently.

Nikita’s mind was filled with graphic images of what happened. She remembered the vows, the kiss, then Michael telling her he loved her. Suddenly there was Bauer, out of nowhere. Drawing a gun. She had been so afraid for Michael’s life. She knew he would not hesitate to sacrifice himself. She was relieved that it hadn’t come to that. The dull ache in her side became a sharp burning sensation as the pain medication began to wear off. She closed her eyes and tried to resist falling asleep again, but it was no use. Her body was exhausted from its ordeal.

She dreamed, hallucinatory images of violence and romance, mixed together, difficult to tell apart at times. Michael taking her, almost violently, the first time they made love in Lyons. Michael beating her, almost lovingly, afterwards, to ensure her safe return to Section. Michael making love to her during the Armel mission. Michael trying to shield her from Bauer’s bullet in vain. She tossed her head back and forth, whipping her hair until it fell over her face, covering it completely. She groaned in pain, Michael’s name on her lips again, to Bauer’s dismay. "Mi..chael.."

Bauer went into Nikita’s cubicle and stood over her. What he hoped to accomplish by this was unclear. In Nikita’s frame of mind, she had very little left to lose now. If Bauer succeeded in tearing her from Michael’s side, she knew Michael would come after her. He would have to return to Section, of all places, to find her. He would die. She felt the tears trickle weakly from beneath her eyelids. "I want my...husband..." Nikita whispered.

Bauer frowned. "Well, you’ll see him soon enough, my dear. When he figures out where you are."

"H-how?"

"Madeline has other uses here at Section." He paused significantly for full dramatic effect.

"What’s that got to do with me?"

"Everything. That’s all. Madeline will see you, call Michael, and tell Michael where you are. He comes here and I pop him," he said, with a gesture that chilled her to the bone. "Right between the eyes."

She closed her eyes again, refusing to look at Bauer. That seemed to frustrate him. "You could have killed him before, but you didn’t..."

"That was then, and now is now. Keep up, Nikita, or you’ll be no fun at all."

"What is it...you want?" She gritted her teeth against the pain, which was growing in intensity. He leaned into her face, his breath hot and overpowering. "That’s for me to know and you to find out."

***

Operations turned to Greg and smiled, but the smile never reached his eyes. It had the desired chilling effect upon Greg. "Thank you for coming to me about this, Greg. I appreciate your loyalty to Section."

Greg nodded, but couldn’t wait to leave the Observation Deck. He had done as instructed. He had told Operations that Bauer was here. And that he’d brought Nikita with him.

Operations gazed out over the Section he controlled, very much the master of all he surveyed. Soon he would have Nikita canceled. Defiant little thorn in his side that she was. But not before she brought in that traitor. That man he had once thought would succeed him as head of Section. Michael.

***

Michael strode downstairs, completely clad in mission black. It was like turning a page backwards. Backwards into Section history. The man in black was back.

He looked at Walter and Birkoff. Neither of them looked like they had recovered from the shock of losing Nikita yet. How were they going to find her and extract her when none of them was quite functional? Michael bit his lip. "This is my fight. You don’t have to come."

"The hell I don’t. Sugar adopted me, you know. I’m like a father to her. I could never live with myself if I didn’t go. Even if I die trying." Walter tied a fresh bandana around his head. Mission black.

Michael glanced at Birkoff. "Hey, you’re not leaving me here either. I’m not exactly keen on getting killed, but you can’t run a mission without tactical. You see anybody else here?"

Michael smiled painfully at the two men who had suddenly become his family. "I don’t know what to say."

Walter stood up. "Time to go, Michael. One way or another. We got to rescue Sugar. We all need her."

Michael swallowed hard. "Yes," he said tersely. "We do."

Birkoff put the earpiece into his ear and cradled his laptop in the front seat of the car. Walter was driving, and Michael was riding shotgun in the back seat. Walter kept muttering to himself, "Times like this I miss the mission van."

"I’m not picking up anything unusual, Michael." Birkoff looked frustrated. They could drive around aimlessly for hours and never find Nikita or Bauer.

"I have an idea," said Michael. "Try this. Press *4/109#, then enter."

Birkoff yelled loudly. "Whoa! What the heck did that do? I’m getting all kinds of Section intel running across this thing! This is wild!"

"You just accessed my computer in my office," Michael said impassively. Birkoff glanced at him nervously. "Uh, is that a good idea? How long do we have before someone picks up that we’re monitoring?"

Michael gave him a half-smile. "Just a little backdoor I built in. For my own protection. You’re not the only one who knows how to use a computer, Birkoff. You’re just better at it than most."

Birkoff grinned. "I love it! Michael, you are the man!"

"Look for any unusual movement or messages. If Nikita is with Bauer, Section will know where she is."

"How, Michael?"

Michael’s head swung around, his eyes dark but glittering with intensity. "He’ll tell them."

***

Madeline dialed Michael’s cell phone, then hung up. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t betray him and Nikita again. No matter what Operations threatened. Operations wanted Nikita canceled. He never forgot her visit to Section a few months back, demanding that he release Michael. He didn’t have Michael, but Nikita didn’t realize that. She thought that Operations was holding Michael prisoner. But Birkoff had saved her, armed only with Michael’s copy of the Directory. He had threatened Operations into letting both of them go. Now, once more, their lives hung in the balance. Only this time, Operations wanted Michael as well. He was using Nikita as bait to trap Michael and anyone who came with him. Madeline thought of Michael’s face after Nikita had been taken and closed her eyes. She thought they had driven all humanity out of the man, but clearly this was not the case. She didn’t blame Michael for threatening her. It was Section’s fault, he was right. She just happened to be the closest target.

She had to warn him, but how? If she told him that Bauer was holding Nikita in Medlab, he would come, but a frontal assault on Section would be ineffective at best, suicidal at worst.

She finally realized what to do. She sent an encrypted message to Oversight, hoping that George could help. Madeline had always suspected that George was Michael’s secret ally. She hoped so. She was putting their lives in his hands.

***

Birkoff yipped like a little dog stung by a bee. "Hey! That was interesting! Someone just sent an encrypted message to George at Oversight!"

Michael looked vitally interested and leaned over Birkoff’s shoulder, eyes avidly scanning the laptop. "Can you break the code?"

"Moi? Surely you jest!" Birkoff’s hands flew across the keyboard. A moment later, he said, "It’s Madeline. She’s asking for George’s help."

He looked over his shoulder at Michael. "And Michael...she says that Nikita is at Section. Bauer has her in the Medlab."

Michael pinched the space above his nose. "Then she’s not dead!" The relief in his voice was audible. Walter seconded that thought. "Thank God!"

"At last! A destination!" Walter chortled as he turned the car in the direction of Section One.

Birkoff stared at Michael. Michael frowned. "What?"

"Madeline says it’s a trap."

Michael punched the seat in front of him, frustrated that he could not tell who to trust. "I don’t trust Madeline."

"Neither do I, Michael, but she’s right. If Bauer has Nikita, he’s using her as bait. To get us to come after her." Birkoff sighed. "Operations wants to cancel her, Michael."

He heard the operative’s sharp intake of breath. He knew that had to hurt, but Michael needed to know how things really were or he could not make an informed decision. "But he’s after bigger fish. Now he wants you."

Walter and Birkoff turned around and looked at Michael. Walter stopped the car. "This is suicide then."

Michael nodded. He took a deep breath. "So, anyone backing out?"

Walter shoved the car back into gear. "Hell, no, just making a reality check."

Thanks to Birkoff, their ragtag mission team now had access to computerized blueprints of every area in Section One. He was able to draw up a profile giving them direct access through Section’s basement area. "Getting in is not the problem," said Birkoff, his brow furrowed with thought.

Michael looked over Birkoff’s shoulder at the floor plans. "Can you create a diversion then?"

"No problem," Birkoff said. "Getting from here, in the basement, to where Nikita is, is the problem. We’ll be exposed most of the way. It’s a central area, and there are too many ops around. We have to find a way to get Bauer to move her somewhere else."

"What if she can’t be moved?" Michael looked worried, and Birkoff wondered if Walter’s news about Nikita’s pregnancy had finally penetrated.

"Doesn’t matter. We’ll take care of it, Michael," Walter assured Michael, not sure if he was speaking the truth or merely indulging in wishful thinking.

Birkoff tapped a few more keys on the laptop. "If she’s ambulatory, we’ll be in much better shape."

It was Michael’s turn to reassure Birkoff now. "If she’s conscious, she’ll be ambulatory." Birkoff glanced at Michael doubtfully, knowing how bad her wound had appeared. Michael continued, "I know Nikita. If she wakes up in here, and she can walk at all, she’ll try to get out."

Birkoff nodded. Michael paused for a moment, as if considering something. "Oh, and one more thing. If anyone sees Bauer...he’s mine."

The venom in that single sentence spoke volumes. Walter smiled evilly, adding, "I’d like a week in the White Room with him myself."

Michael’s face went blank, as if he were controlling some inner pain he dared not give voice to right now. "We don’t have time for the kind of torture he deserves. But either way, he’s a dead man."

"What about Ops?" asked Walter.

"What about him?" Michael’s face looked inscrutable.

"You can’t just let him go, Michael. He could come after her anytime. He knows where we live. We’ve been breached bigtime. Our security is crap compared to Section’s. We can’t protect her."

"I didn’t say I would let him go, Walter. If Nikita dies..." Michael stopped right there, actually seeming to have trouble articulating the word. "...I’ll take him out. Then I’ll follow him straight to Hell because my life will be over." Walter saw Michael’s face as he contemplated life without Nikita, and he pitied Operations because he knew if Nikita died, Michael would not have anything left to live for. Come to think of it, neither would he.

Walter said huskily, his feelings for Nikita evident, "We gotta think positively, Michael. Nikita isn’t going to die. We’re gonna get her out." He punched Michael gently in the shoulder. "Hey, I finally got you two married, think I’m gonna give up before I become a grandfather?"

Michael struggled to smile, and Walter appreciated the effort, knowing how hard it must be for Michael to maintain his focus in the face of such pain.

***

Meanwhile, back in the Medlab, Nikita held onto the pain that surged through her body now, knowing it was going to keep her from going under again. She couldn’t afford to sleep now, she had to find a way to escape Bauer before he used her to trap Michael. She thought of feigning sickness. The truth was, between the pain in her side and her morning sickness, she was not feeling very well at all. Nikita groaned and covered her mouth indelicately. "Bauer...I don’t feel very good."

"So? What do you expect me to do about that?"

She almost rolled her eyes at the man’s utter lack of sympathy for people. "I need to go to the bathroom."

He snickered. "Nice try, Nikita, but you aren’t going anywhere. You and I have a date with Operations. And your dear devoted hubby."

"But I feel sick at my st--" Nikita retched and a huge blob of undigested food landed on Bauer’s expensive Italian loafers. "That was uncalled for."

"I couldn’t help it. I’m sick..." she said, trying to look as abject as possible. "I need to get cleaned up. Please...let me go to the bathroom...there might be more..."

Bauer’s expression would have been comical if he had been a nicer man, but he wasn’t, and it wasn’t. He reluctantly agreed to let Nikita use the bathroom, figuring the woman was so ill, she didn’t bear watching as intently as before.

That was his first mistake. Nikita was indeed quivering inside from the loss of blood and subsequent low blood pressure. But she was far from down for the count. Her head felt woozy and about two sizes too big for her body, but that was merely unpleasant. The pain that raged through her side now was constant, and she had to force herself to concentrate. Focus, remember Michael’s lessons. He had trained her well, and she needed to stay on track. She scowled at Bauer behind his back and dallied in the bathroom until he began to ignore her.

She slid her body through a space between cubicles, trying not to touch her wounded side, to no avail. The pain was so excruciating, it nearly blinded her. Once outside Medlab, she tiptoed carefully around several corridors, automatically backtracking her way to Walter’s workshop. She looked both ways, saw no one coming and hitched herself inside. She grabbed the first gun and clip that she saw, and abruptly realized that she had to find clothing. Her hospital gown was no protection at all.

She made her way to the ready room, knowing she kept spare clothing in there. She dressed as hurriedly as her wound would allow, pulling a black sweater over her head and donning slim black pants. She placed the gun in the waistband of her pants and grabbed the extra clip she found in her ready room locker.

When Bauer discovered that Nikita was gone from the bathroom, he was furious. He couldn’t believe that a mere girl had duped him. His ego simply wouldn’t allow him to accept that. He called Operations to inform him, knowing he had lost whatever advantage he had gained now.

Operations slammed his fists down on the counter in front of him. He looked out of the Observation Deck, down at the world he called his, feeling his fury mount beyond controllable limits. He pressed a button and activated the paging system. "There is a rogue operative loose in Section One. Apprehend her on sight. Alive...or dead..."

Nikita and Michael heard the voice pound in their heads almost at the same moment. Nikita was just reaching the stairway to Level 4 when she saw Michael and the others. "Michael..." Her voice was almost inaudible, but Michael heard it. His head snapped around and he stared at her. "Kita..." he breathed.

Dizzy from her earlier blood loss and the emotional toll her body had suffered, Nikita almost stumbled forward into Michael’s arms. He caught her and kissed her without thinking. He drew back and saw how pale she was. "Oh, my God, Kita. We have to get you out of here now."

Walter champed at the bit, wanting to push Michael out of the way just so he could hug Sugar. But Sugar didn’t look like she was up to much hugging right now. To be honest, she looked a bit under the weather. Birkoff was chortling madly in his ear about Nikita being alive, when Walter abruptly realized that they could get away without bloodshed. If they left right now.

Michael must have been reading his mind. He turned and stared at Walter. "This problem won’t go away, Walter. We need to deal with it now."

"What are you talking about, Michael?" Nikita asked.

"Kita, I need you to go with Walter and Birkoff. Let me handle Operations and Bauer."

Walter and Birkoff immediately protested, knowing that Michael was more likely to be killed if he went in alone. Nikita refused to go. "I’m not leaving you, Michael. This is the same argument we had before."

"Kita, we don’t have time for this now. Go with Walter and Birkoff."

"No." She turned to Walter and leaned on him heavily. Walter’s arms slid around her waist, supporting her. "You feeling okay, Sugar?"

Michael sighed. "Kita, what about the baby? You’re risking everything."

She moved towards Michael again, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Don’t you get it yet, Michael? I don’t want to live without you."

She hugged him, and she felt him shudder against her. "I don’t want to lose you, Kita, now that we’ve finally found each other." He closed his eyes and stood there, holding her, savoring the feel of her against him. He had been so afraid he would never see her again, he hadn’t let himself feel the pain of losing her once he was inside Section again. But now, in a rush, it all came back to him, each agonizing minute they had been apart.

Walter smiled, knowing Sugar had won this argument. Michael was never going to let her out of his sight again. He poked Birkoff, who looked dreamy-eyed at the sight of Nikita. "Keep your tongue off the floor, kid. The better man won."

Birkoff sighed. "I know. But I can dream once in a while, can’t I?"

"Not with his woman, you don’t. Not unless you got no particular attachment to this life."

Birkoff suddenly snapped out of his fantasy. "Michael! We’ve got company! Lots of company!"

Michael and Nikita turned as one to face their accusers, these men of Section who used and abused them, only to find them wanting in the end.