Rage of Betrayal
By Kimberly
Michael walked down the hall, seeing Darren walking towards him, his expression a display of rage, his gun in his hand but down. The raid was essentially over - but Darren was a little too distracted. Michael knew immediately that Anna must be dead.
"Where is Anna?" Michael asked him.
Darren looked at him, his expression mocking, "Where do you think Michael? She's in that room down the hall, with the door open - the one with the dead body laying on the bed. - I thought the raid was tomorrow."
Michael didn't answer him. Now was not the time or the place, "The van is around the corner."
Nikita appeared at the end of the hall, and stopped to watch Darren stride past her, shirtless. His espression spoke volumes.
She started down the hall, seeing Michael disappear into one of the bedrooms.
Michael walked into the room, ready for an attack, just in case. His eye's swept the room, taking in everything. The now deceased Anna laying on the bed, the Shreds of clothing that were probably her dress, and Darren's shirt. Alexandra was crawling towards her gun using only one hand, the other at her throat, gasping for air. She saw Michael's shadow and flinched, rolling to get away from him.
"Alex," he said loudly to break through her panic, "It's OK."
She'd managed to prop herself up against the dresser. Michael retrieved her gun for her and dropped down to one knee, next to her.
"What happened . . .?"
Alexandra had her eye's squeezed closed, since she knew for the moment she was safe, still breathing as much air in as possible. Darren's expression, the rage in his eye's, was the most frightening thing she'd ever seen. She thought he was going to strangle her. She still couldn't believe he hadn't. When she'd been on her knees, and he was staring at her, revulsion in his eye's, she honestly wanted him to pull the trigger. It would have been fast - but to be slowly strangled . . . she didn't want to die that way . . . she didn't want to die she realized. Her emotions were a mess, ruling over her brain, a bad way to make decisions.
" Came up behind me - hostile," she lied, before she considered that Darren had just walked out, and Michael in, that they'd have passed each other in the hall.
"Darren just walked out," Michael said quietly, " Can you stand?"
She nodded, and Michael helped her up. Nikita had just walked in.
Michael pulled her hand away from her throat. Already, she had a thick band of bruising, in the outline of large fingers, coloring her skin.
"That happened from in front," Nikita said quietly, looking from Alexandra to Michael.
Michael nodded, and turned off his transmitter, "Get a hold of Birkhoff, pull the transmission."
Nikita nodded, and strode out the door.
Michael held on to Alexandra's arm to steady her, and walked her out.
"Birkhoff has a very fuzzy, indiscernible transmission in it's place," Nikita told Michael, "And we have a problem."
Michael nodded. He had a pretty good idea what they were going to hear.
He slipped the CD into the computer, and opened the sound file.
"What the hell are you doing here, the raid was supposed to be tomorrow!" Darren hissed.
Anna hissed, her voice accusing, "You! My men are looking for you! I knew something was up when you disappeared!"
Two shots were heard.
"No!" Darren yelled
There were sound of a struggle, a body being slammed into a wall.
"You knew she would be here today!" Darren's voice yelled.
Alexandra's voice said "Go ahead - shoot me."
Darren voice said "Jesus Christ Alex . . . I . . .Why?! How could you be so jealous that you . . .even you . . ."
Alexandra said " Did you want her brought in, for the torture twins and Madeline to have their shot at her?"
"Don't," Darren said then, the sound of a gun being cocked followed.
"Pull the trigger Darren," Alexandra's voice said, "If this is the way it's going to be, put me out of my misery."
There was a pause
" End it Darren - if you think I'm capable of it."
There were sounds of another struggle, something bouncing off a wall, Alexandra's whimper, a choking sound.
"I'm not like you - I can't exterminate life so easy. So live and suffer Alex!"
Nikita groaned, and covering her face, "Alex insists that Anna did it now. Madeline doesn't know that Alexandra said it was a hostile from behind the first time."
Michael sighed. They couldn't let this pass. Alexandra was in medlab being treated for severe bruising to her trachea, supposedly done by a woman who probably didn't have the strength to do that much damage. If Darren had squeezed a hair harder, or a moment longer, he'd have crushed her trachea, killing her.
Darren had left for his home, to pack up. Section was moving his residence, just in case. When he'd left, he'd still been angry.
"She protected him, when he damn near killed her," Nikita said, "Jesus Michael, what are we gonna do?"
Michael shook his head, "We should inform Operations and Madeline, but they'd cancel him. If they get a hold of this transmission - she'll be in abeyance."
Nikita sighed, "He didn't know what Anna was doing - maybe the knowledge in itself will take care of this."
Michael didn't think so, and he knew Nikita didn't have a lot of faith in that answer either.
* * *
Darren had never been, "Moved" by Section One. It was an experience he'd never forget. Ten people came in, packed all the small stuff in boxes quickly - picked up the big stuff, loaded it into a truck, drove it to the new place, took it up the stairs, dumped it in the appropriate room, and left. The whole process took a few hours. It was cold and ruthless.
So now Darren stood in his living room, feeling torn apart because what little life he did have had been hap-hazardly packed and ruthlessly shoved around and dumped. He felt torn apart because in that short period he'd become attached to Anna, the part that was his old Anna at least, even though he knew it was a mistake. He saw her killed in front of his eye's with no warning. Worse yet, the killer had been the one person he thought he could trust with anything.
To find out that Alexandra had been under orders to cancel Anna, because she was dealing chemical weapons, only made the whole thing worse. He couldn't forget the look of hatred that Alexandra had on her face when she killed Anna, or the resignation in her voice, when she told him to shoot her.
Alexandra was probably facing the same pile of boxes he was right now too. He had only seen her briefly, her back was to him in the hallway.
Darren had never really liked being in Section One, but he'd learned to live with it. What happened today, made him question how much longer he could tolerate it. Alexandra was reaching that point too apparently. He smiled bitterly. He hoped she was miserable.
Nikita sat down in Madeline's office. She'd been called in just as she was about to leave, so she had her shoulder bag with her, and her coat on.
" There is bound to be some fall out, between Darren and Alexandra," Madeline told her, watching the blonde's face, searching for any reaction, some sliver of information.
Nikita nodded calmly, thinking that Madeline had no idea how much fall out had already occured, "We were anticipating that."
"Good," Madeline smiled, "I'm amazed Anna was strong enough to do that much damage to Alexandra. I wonder if she knew that Alexandra had been Darren's lover?"
Nikita took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, " I wouldn't be surprised if Anna tried to find out more about Alexandra - since she'd seen them together at the coffee shop. Anna was into very rough sex. It would stand to reason she'd have some strength - adrenaline does amazing things."
Madeline smiled, "True."
Nikita could smell dinner when she let herself into her apartment. She knew Michael had left Section One earlier than she had, but she hadn't asked him where he was going or why. Judging from what she saw before her as she entered the apartment - he'd gone to the market.
There was a plastic basin with two lobster's waiting in it on the counter, a pot of boiling water on the stove. A bowel of some kind of salad was on the counter. Michael was just slicing up a sourdough loaf, and he had whipped butter in a small tub sitting on the counter. She could see various colors from the vegetables in the steamer.
Nikita smiled, taking her coat over to the closet, "Lobster? What did I do to deserve this?"
Michael felt her hands slide around his waist, her fingers spread out on his stomach, kneading his flesh. He felt her breath on his neck, her lips pressing a kiss to his neck.
"What did I do to deserve this?" Nikita asked him again, her voice husky, more quiet.
Michael slid his fingers around hers, and turned to kiss her hungrily on the mouth. He broke the kiss after only a few seconds.
"You married me," he said softly.
Nikita smiled, "Let me wash my hands, and I'll help you."
Michael poured wine into two glasses, and handed her one, "What did Madeline say?"
Nikita took the glass, and sipped, "We should expect some fall-out between Alex and Darren, she commented on the bruises Alexandra has - that she was surprised Anna had the strength - I pointed out that Anna was into violent sex - and the adrenaline had to have been pumping when Alex walks in with a gun in her hand."
Nikita picked up the knife, and started to slice the bread. Michael reached over for one of the lobsters . . .
It struck Nikita as how domestic the whole evening was, later that night as they sat on the sofa, a fire in the fireplace, soft music playing in the background. They ate dinner, they did the dishes together, talking, curled up with each other on the sofa . . . so like the 'married' life that Michael wanted. Nikita hoped he would be satisfied with this kind of lifestyle. It wasn't that she didn't want a real marriage. She'd love to go home to him every night, wake up to him every morning, even have children. But it wasn't a realistic option, and she didn't want to rock the boat. She knew Madeline and Operations had to know that they were more than friends. They kept it out of Section though. It didn't affect their work. That was why they allowed it. To blatantly throw it in their face - was asking for trouble.
Paul/Operations lay awake in bed, Madeline asleep, curled up in his embrace. He wanted a cigarette badly, but Madeline hated it when he smoked around her. Out of respect for her wishes, he didn't smoke in bed, or when they dined together . . .
He'd seen Michael today, outside of Section one, somewhere he hadn't expected to find him. Paul had been inspired, buying flowers at the last minute. He'd looked up, seen Michael looking around, and they'd both seen each other and nodded. Michael had a bag from a fresh seafood place, and a bag full of vegetables. It wasn't that he thought Michael never ate, or that he always ate out - he just never considered that Michael might cook actual meals. There was a time when Madeline would have to throw Michael out of Section One. Michael left more often now. He took work home with him. His work was just as thorough, just as detailed now, as it was before. A few times, Michael had even thought of an planned for contingencies that were so minuscule, Section wouldn't bother with them. But Michael planned for everything.
Paul knew that Michael was involved with Nikita, despite the risks. But now, unlike several years ago, Nikita did what she was told. She didn't argue the point. She'd learned to pick her battles. She wasn't the loose cannon she'd been before - and she'd turned out to be one of their best Cold Ops. Her two protégé's were doing better than most - considering their time on active status. Madeline had told him that Nikita was starting to profile and strategize on her own, consulting Madeline often. Michael had been doing both those things for years, more so now than in the past.
Paul didn't feel threatened that Michael was getting ready to take over the position as Operations. Michael's ambition was totally different. He didn't want to run the show, and be responsible for everything. But he'd take the reigns if he had too, but he was better suited to Madeline's position.
Madeline had mentioned to him last week, when they'd stumbled across them in the restaurant, that Nikita and Michael might one day replace them. Four years ago, if someone had told him that Nikita might someday be 'Operations', Paul would have laughed in their face. He wouldn't laugh today. Nikita could do the job tomorrow, but she'd hate it. She'd have a hard time. She wasn't ready to do it. Eventually she would be. Paul wasn't worried that she'd oust him though. Power was something Nikita respected, but didn't crave, and she'd become very aware of the shear magnitude of the position Paul held.
Paul knew he and Madeline were in a unique position. Their successors would be ready when the time came, but their successors weren't power hungry ladder climbers - and they wouldn't push either one of them out until they absolutely had too. Hopefully, that wouldn't be too soon.
* * *
Alexandra had allowed herself one beer. The last thing she needed now, was to be called in, and be tipsy. She knew Michael and Nikita had caught her lying. She was also well aware that Darren could just show up out of the blue. Her throat still hurt, her neck tender to the touch. Chills slithered down her spine when she though of how angry he'd been. Live and suffer Alex . . .
She was suffering too. At that moment, when he'd said 'even you' - implying that killing was so easy for her, when she's seen the revulsion on his face - that he was so close to killing her, all she'd wanted was a way out. She'd had time over the last few days to contemplate those crucial few minutes.
Death had been an attractive alternative over the last year and a half - even the two years while she'd been in training. It was a way out, an escape from the guilt and pain she felt over losing her best friend. An escape from the horrors she saw on mission. From the guilt she felt when she realized that sometimes she enjoyed pulling the trigger - because the terrorist, who'd taken so many lives, was now going to pay with their own.
When she'd been so badly beaten and raped in Iraq, she'd welcomed death then. When she was in medlab, seeing the desperate anguished look on Darren's face when he held her hand, and talked to her, it was the first time she'd felt the desire to stay alive, and live. To see relief on his face when she was recovering, tugged at something inside her she didn't know existed, a need she'd often wished she didn't posses.
Maybe that was why it hurt so much, now that he hated her. But the taste being really alive, really wanted, needed . . . was too much to ignore. Darren may well hate her forever. She knew what they had was gone. If he ever forgave her, they would still never be the same. But somehow, knowing it was possible to feel that way - made it worth staying alive . . . and part of her hoped, even though she knew it was doomed to never materialize.
Section had moved her into a different apartment. It was about the same size as the last, and when she'd been able to actually go there herself, she found boxes stacked in the living room, the furniture placed in the room, but not arranged.
She'd pushed her bed in place - pushed the sofa and overstuffed chair where she wanted them, arranged the coffee table in front of the sofa, the end table in the corner where the sofa met the chair.
The small kitchen table needed only to have the chairs arranged. She unpacked the dishes, the Tupperware she'd managed to start collecting, put food back onto the shelves. Whomever moved her must have thrown out everything in her fridge, so she'd have to grocery shop - but not tonight.
She was putting her cloths back in the closet and the dresser when her pizza arrived, and she made her shopping list while she ate pizza, and kept an eye on the TV movie. She thought about putting curtains up over the mini-blinds. She'd never put pictures up on her walls before, and now they looked bare. Maybe it was time to take up her old hobby - black and white photography.
* * *
"Where were you when I called?" Nikita asked her, just to make conversation.
They'd been called in for a briefing. Nikita was in the room, sitting down already. There were a few other operatives in attendance, but Madeline and Operations were not their yet.
"Shopping," Alexandra told her, "No cold stuff, thank god, I hadn't gotten that far yet. I'm gonna take up an old hobby of mine-"
"What? Executions?" Darren snapped coldly, walking by.
Most of the room stopped talking and turned to look.
Nikita turned, frowning. She knew Michael had just called Darren into his office to discuss the bruises on Alexandra's neck, the same bruises that Alexandra insisted were Anna's work, and not Darren's.
Nikita opened her mouth to call Darren on being so nasty, but Alexandra shook her head 'no'.
"Photography - black and white," Alexandra replied, as if what he'd said wasn't offensive, and then Alexandra turned her gaze back to Nikita, "I got all the solutions I need, the basin's, lines and clips to hang the pictures on, got myself a camera and film - that was nasty expensive - but it'll be worth it."
"What did you take pictures of?" Nikita asked, knowing that Darren was listening, and hoping he didn't find another opportunity to be nasty.
"People scenes - when they're not posing. I like to capture people when they're talking with someone, when they're sitting by themselves, that kind of thing - I'll let you know when I have a roll done so you can see them," Alexandra told her, "I know I gotta keep my camera out of Section of course."
Nikita nodded, "Oh yeah - that would go over real well."
Michael walked in, and took a seat on the other side of Darren. Madeline and Operations arrived moments later, and the briefing began.
Their target was a terrorist faction in Germany. There were two people in particular that they wanted to bring back in alive for interrogation.
Michael was very aware of the tension around him, coming from Darren, Nikita and Alexandra. He wondered what he'd missed, if something had happened in the mean time that he didn't know about. They all had their eye's glued on the briefing though - which was a relief.
They changed into assault gear, loaded up into the van, and from their to the airstrip. They were in the air within an hour.
Michael took a seat next to Nikita after they'd gotten underway, his expression questioning.
Nikita glanced over at Alexandra - who'd chosen to catch a nap. Darren was trying to sleep on the other side of the plane, though he looked like he was having a hard time getting comfortable.
"He's just being nasty is all," Nikita said, "Picking for an argument."
Michael nodded barely, and his eye's darted to Alexandra, "How's her mood?"
"Pretty good," Nikita told him, "and I think it really is. I can usually tell when it's an act."
They split into three teams. One surrounded the perimeter. Two went in, invading quickly, splitting off. The first one took the basement, the second took the top floor. They all knew exactly who their targets were.
Michael's team took the basement, Nikita's team took the top floor.
Alexandra found herself on Michael's team, along with several other operatives.
The moved quickly down the hall, checking the rooms as they went. Twice they had to take out hostiles, by the time they reached the main room, they found one man - one of their targets, trying to climb into an air vent.
" Cover the hall," Michael ordered two of the operatives, and reached up to yank the panicked strategist out of the air vent.
They bound his wrists, disarmed him, and started back out the way they came, still hearing gunfire from above.
"Nikita - report," Michael said, staying in machine mode.
"We're pinned down," Nikita yelled over the gunfire, "We lost two on the way in!"
"Tyler, Dante, Regi, get Hauske to the van - Alex and I will go after the other team," Michael told them, already moving towards the stairs up.
Alexandra stayed right with Michael. The moved quickly up the stairs, watching, machine gun riffles up as they moved.
" Michael - you have someone waiting for you around the corner at the top of the stairs.
Alexandra crawled forward on her stomach, on the inside wall, Michael a step back. He slammed his fist against the wall, to flush out the hostile, his other hand holding his rifle steady and waiting.
The ploy worked. The hostile came around the corner, not expecting Alexandra to be laying on the stairs, or for Michael to be expecting him.
The both fired, letting off several shots, and the hostile fell back, slamming into the wall. Alexandra leapt forward, sliding on her side across the floor gun up to fire at anyone coming at them.
Three hostiles in the hallway turned, but Michael and Alexandra fired back before they had the chance. Alexandra scrambled to her feet as Michael passed her. Two more hostiles appeared in the hallway, Michael taking them out as they went. The reached a corner in the hall, Birkhoff informed them it was clear, and they proceeded on.
The reached the hallway where Nikita's team was pinned down moments later.
The hostiles were just realizing that someone was approaching them from behind, but it wasn't enough. Between return fire from Nikita's team and Michael and Alexandra, they were able to take out the rest of the hostiles, and clear the way for their retreat.
Alexandra knelt down, checking the pulse on one of the Section One operatives that was laying on the floor, not moving. Nothing. She looked up at Nikita and shook her head.
Darren staggered, falling into a wall, a few feet from Alexandra.
" You're hit," Alexandra said, "Lean on me, we're running out of time."
She'd grabbed his arm and pulled it over his shoulders. Darren yanked his arm back, "I don't need your help!"
Alexandra felt like she'd just been slapped. She stepped back, and stayed behind Darren, as the team started to move out. Darren limped along with them, struggling to keep up.
Birkhoff warned them that hostiles were on the way. Michael turned and put one arm around Darren's waist, " We need to hurry."
Darren allowed Michael's help, and they hurried to the van, as fast as possible. Nikita, Alexandra and the rest of the team ran ahead, covering Michael's and Darren's retreat. They barely made it into the van, falling to the floor, Michael giving the order to go.
Nikita grabbed the first aid kit, stepping inbetween arms and legs to get to where Darren was still laying on the floor.
Alexandra sat on one of the bench's, keeping quiet, but watching the whole time, her face still a mask. Nikita knew Darren had hurt her feelings, but she'd hidden it well.
Nikita cut away at the pants around the wound, reaching behind it. No exit wound.
"It's still in there," Nikita told him, and pulled out a tourniquet wrap. She tied it off above the wound, "We'll take care of it on the plane."
Darren nodded, grimacing with each jar from the van.
Once they were on the plain, Michael helped Darren get out of the van and laying down on the floor in back. Nikita unwrapped a syringe and a vial of morphine, and drew up the amount listed per pound of body weight, and eased down the back of the waist band of Darren's pants to give him the injection. He didn't flinch when she gave him the injection.
" We'll give you a few minutes for the morphine to take effect - then I have to go after the bullet," Michael told him, "You're going to feel drowsy soon - don't fight it."
Alexandra watched from several feet away, wishing she could offer some comfort, a word of encouragement. Darren looked up and saw her, his eye's hardening. Alexandra smiled sympathetically, and he looked away.
"What's up his ass?" Max asked her.
Alexandra shook her head, peeling off her coat, "He's still pissed at me - because of Anna."
Max shook his head, "I don't know if I could have done what he had to do."
Alexandra nodded, taking off her coat, "Me either."
Once the coat was removed, there was a clearer view of Alexandra's neck - which was still mottled with color from the bruising.
"Christ! I still can't believe she was strong enough to damn near strangle you Alex!" Dante said, "How the hell did she get close enough to you?"
Alexandra bit her lip. Her lie was falling apart. She caught Darren looking up at them, but he kept his mouth shut.
"I screwed up," Alexandra shrugged, "I didn't consider her much of a threat. I was wrong."
Alexandra looked over at Darren, and he smirked, but only for a moment.
Michael dug into his leg, and Darren groaned, clamping his hand over his mouth. Michael quickly probed down to the bullet, and yanked it out. Darren laid back, racked in pain, his stomach threatening to come up it hurt so bad, until he passed out.
Michael put antibiotic ointment on a bandage, after stitching up what he could, and he tightly wrapped his leg.
Alexandra felt a little woozy after watching the mini surgery on the floor, and sat back in her seat, closing her eye's for a few moments.
" That the first time he's been shot?" Dante asked her.
She'd know of course, they knew that. She nodded yes, and unscrewed the cap on a water bottle, and took a big gulp.
" Yeah, it is . . . that was just about the goriest thing I've ever seen."
" It's worse, when it's a friend," Dante commented.
But he's not a friend anymore . . .
*****
Michael overheard Operations on the phone, making reservations for the evening at an expensive spa with private rooms. He'd reserved the entire evening, a private room, ordering a bottle of champagne and a dinner tray of meats, cheeses and fruits. Michael stood in the hallway, and listened as Operations called Madeline, telling her they had reservations at 8:00.
Michael waited for a moment, then knocked on the door.
" I have an errand to run," Michael told Nikita quietly, " I should be home by 9:00."
Nikita nodded, " Sure."
She smiled, thinking to herself that she liked the way he said 'home' - as in their home.
Michael looked at her for a moment, and turned to leave. Nikita had the distinct impression that Michael had expected her to ask where he was going. She watched him go, and wondered if he had been overly possessive with Simone. She remembered a time when she'd wished he'd been more possessive of her.
Unbidden, from somewhere deep in her memory, she heard a voice telling her to be careful what she wished for. Nikita shrugged it off. No regrets she told her self, enjoy this while it lasts. . . .
* * *
Michael arranged for Madeline and Operations to see him walking out of a store and to his motorcycle. He made eye contact with them, but didn't react - as if respecting their privacy - which was what he would do - as long as he was allowed to live with Nikita.
He hadn't planned on blackmailing them originally. He didn't want to, if he didn't have to. But he'd be prepared if he had to. He was hoping that when he made his request - that they would know he knew about their relationship, and it would be all the leverage he needed.
He'd actually chosen to do some shopping while he was out. The shop he'd walked out of was called "Lovers Boutique". It carried such things as Lingerie', massage oils, various gels that heated when you massaged them in, flavored gels, scented creme, lubricant's, various battery operated devices, things one could use while having sex to increase the pleasure if they were so inclined to use and enjoy them. Different kinds of condoms, both real and gimmick, calendars, magazines and video's.
Michael purchased a bottle of massage oil.
He pulled up and parked at the end of the block from Nikita's apartment, chaining the motorcycle, and knocked as he let himself in.
Nikita smiled at him, watching him move. He hung up his coat, putting the package in his hand down on the counter.
"What did you buy?" she asked him, slipping into his arms.
"Massage oil," Michael replied, slipping his hands under her sweater, at the small of her back, "When did you get in?"
She ignored the voice in the back of her head, possessive . . .
" A little while ago," she said, " I made dinner - Roasted chicken."
She pulled out of his arms after placing a playful kiss in his lips, " I was just keeping it warm."
She pulled the roast out of the oven while Michael set the table. He poured glasses of wine, set the vegetable dishes on the table. All very domestic . . .
* * *
Madeline had no illusions about herself. She was an older woman. Yes she was in wonderful shape. Her body was toned. She took care of her skin. But there wasn't a creme that anyone made that could combat time forever. When she looked in the mirror, she found laugh lines around her eyes. Madeline didn't laugh often though. Her smile rarely reached her eye's. She was still very stunning though.
She demanded the attentions from her lovers, that a younger woman would ask. Paul was no exception, and he was happy to agree. They sat nude in the private spa, her back to Paul's chest. He lifted her, sheathing himself within her, she pulled his hands up to her breasts, as she rocked back against him. She tilted her head, allowing him better access as he kissed her neck. She slid one of her hands into his short silver hair, the other reaching down between them to touch herself. His passion increased tenfold when she came first, and this was one of the few things she and he always agreed open.
Her body spasmed in release, and he squeezed her breasts a little firmer pumping harder, seeking his own. When they were done a few minutes later, they remained in their warm embrace of curled and crooked arms and legs, Madeline resting her head on his shoulder.
It had been by unspoken tacit agreement that neither one of them mentioned who they had seen earlier, though they both knew the implications.
Michael had never gone so far as to blackmail either one of them. It wasn't that he as above it of course. After all, he could do anything Section asked him to do. Blackmail was one of their first lessons. He was extremely intelligent though. The information would be stored away for later use, if need by.
Madeline was sure she knew what it would be though. They were discreet, but Michael and Nikita had been at peace with each other for a long time. He left Section at night - or in the morning, eventually.
"What are you thinking about?" Paul asked her, pressing a kiss to her neck.
Madeline smiled, and turned around, shifting to straddle him, "Nothing that can't wait until tomorrow!"
*****
Darren was desperately bored. He was hopping around on crutches, for at least another day he'd been told. After that, it would be another weak before they'd let him return to even light duty.
Getting shot - the potential for almost being killed, hadn't had the same enlightening experience for him, as it did Alexandra. He'd seen her talking with other operatives, calm, collected, relaxed essentially. He would have expected her mood to be dark. Guilt and regret had always been her other lover, besides him. That had apparently changed.
He didn't feel like reading any more. He couldn't workout anything with his leg, so his workouts finished early. He'd seen Alexandra in the gym with Nikita once, and he'd seen her with a female recruit a couple times. She avoided making any eye contact with him.
The communications station was slow today, there were several terminals that were not being used, so Darren hopped over, and logged in, thinking he would surf the net, in search of some kind of entertainment.
His mind inevitably traveled to Alexandra, and then to Anna.
He'd been told in the debriefing that Anna had been dealing chemical weapons. While he'd taken Anna out the to coast, Michael, Nikita and Alexandra had searched her Condo. They'd found all of her records. Darren just couldn't seen Anna, even as jaded as she'd become, dealing in something so vile. It has gnawed at him for days, and slowly in the back of his mind, he'd began to wonder exactly what the evidence was.
So he found himself pulling up the report.
They'd found all of her business records. Who she sold to, where the weapons came from, the purchasing price, everything. There were several orders pending as well. Darren wondered if there would be a mission because of this.
The records were almost too neat though. The only reason anyone in that business would possibly keep such careful records, was for blackmail purposes . . . . and they did serve a little too well to convict Anna. So well, that Darren wondered if they were real - and who would be motivated the most to plant them.
As if conjured up out of his thoughts, Alexandra appeared, walking across the main floor towards Walter's station. She wore jeans and a polo style shirt and sneakers, and she looked over at him, nodded, and looked away when he glared at her. She walked into Walter's lair, and perched on one of the stools.
* * *
"How are you doing honey?" Walter asked her, barely glancing up.
Alexandra sighed. She never hid anything from Walter, he was one of the few people she didn't have to.
"Bummed - Darren is never going to forgive me," Alexandra told him, peering at what he was going under the huge magnifying glass, "Is that a bomb?"
"As a matter of fact," Walter said, "This is one of those bomb's you used in Iraq."
Alexandra raised an eyebrow, "That was one of the first time's I was glad the radio interference was so bad."
Walter smiled a little, and continued to work. Alexandra sat in companionable silence for a while, watching him work.
"He'll pull his head out of his ass eventually," Walter told her after a few minutes.
Alexandra nodded, "Probably."
"Hand me the blue wiring," he said gently.
Alexandra picked up a blue wire, and carefully extended it, but not right up to the bomb. Walter smiled, knowing why, and took the wire from her outstretched hand. His eye's lingered on the fading yellow brown bruises.
"They only look like really nice hickey's now," Walter commented.
Alexandra was very uncomfortable talking about those bruises, "Yep. I was lucky."
Walter nodded, "Yes you were. If Madeline had found out you lied to her, to protect Darren, she'd have been pissed."
Alexandra kept her mouth shut. She didn't want to know how Walter knew, and she wasn't going to lie to him.
"He said he wasn't like me, He couldn't exterminate life so easy - live and suffer, he said," Alexandra told him after several more long minutes of silence, "I really thought he was going to kill me for a few moments."
"What I don't get, is why he's still being a jerk," Walter said lightly, still working on the bomb, "Now that he knows what Anna was doing."
Alexandra sighed, "I think that he got attached to her, got involved - how could he not - they had a past."
Walter finished replacing the cover on the bomb, "He'll come around honey,"
Alexandra took a shaky breath, "I hope so Walter, I hope so."
* * *
"Nikita!" Someone said, calling out to her.
Nikita was in one of the hallways, and she turned to look - Max was standing there at the junction - grinning ear to ear. She turned, and walked back in his direction.
"Max - grinning like a Cheshire cat!" Nikita said, walking back towards him a smile on her face, "What's got you in such a good mood?"
He looked around, and said smiling, "I just bought a car - you have gotta see this . . . !"
Nikita listed to him expound on all the wonderful features of his new car, and found his excitement infectious. It was good to hear that someone was happy about something - especially here.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Michael walk out of his office, watching her and Max as he walked by, nodding to them, his gaze never wavering.
Nikita felt a shiver run down her spine, and wondered what it was he was thinking - but then pushed the thought away. Michael trusted her - and Nikita would never do anything to break that trust - unless section gave her no choice - such as ordering her to sleep with a target.
* * *
Alexandra had taken two rolls of film, and shot pictures all over the city. Now she stood in her newly fashioned dark room - set up on a table in the utility closet. She played with each shot - darkening it, leaving it lighter, until she got just the right contrast.
She'd spent several hours in the city park, near the fountain. There was one shot in particular that she really liked. It was a little girl, probably 5 or 6, sitting on the grass, playing with a puppy. The puppy had it's back legs and butt in the air, tail wagging, it's front legs and paws stretched out on the grass, it's chin resting on it's front legs. The little girl was reaching to put the puppy on the head. The little girl had been dressed in pants, a some kind of sweatshirt and coat, and sneakers that looked to be half the size of her legs.
There was another photograph that she'd taken of a couple. They were sitting on one of the park benches, holding hands, talking. There had been something about the way they looked at her. Alexandra had taken four pictures, hoping to capture what ever it was - and now Alexandra thought she probably had. But she couldn't be sure. Everyone saw a picture, a scene, a different way.
An old woman appeared in one picture, along with two much younger men - probably in their teenage years. The were listening in rapt attention, as she told them some tale. In the picture, she had her hand up, fingers spread out to demonstrate something. Her face showed true joy - the boys faced held fascination.
Hours later - Alexandra was just hanging some of the photographs up on her living room wall, when she heard a knock on her door.
She frowned, she'd just moved here, and very few people would be calling on her. She looked through the peep hole, and saw Darren on the other side. He'd just looked down the hall - ever vigilant.
Alexandra took a deep breath, her hand going to her throat. He didn't look pissed.
She opened the door, " Come in."
He dressed in dark slacks, a white shirt that buttoned up the front. His hair hung loose today, long and silky, some of it resting on his shoulders.
" I keep thinking about you," He said huskily, reaching for her.
Alexandra was about to protest, but he quickly pressed his lips to hers, kissing her gently, his hands moving down her back in a caress, pulling her body in close to his.
She kissed him back, all the fears and worries disappearing as her passion and lust took over. She felt his hands move down to squeeze her buttocks, pushing her towards the room that would be her bedroom.
She started to pull his shirt from his slacks, pushing the buttons open as she went, reluctant to break the kiss as they stumbled into her bedroom.
Darren pulled her shirt up and off, her bra next, then her jeans and panties, pushing her back down on her bed. He kicked off his slacks and underwear as soon as she'd started to unfasten them, and his mouth moved down her body, teasing and suckling as he went, driving her insane with need. He grabbed her hands away from his swollen shaft when she reached for him, but he would let her touch his chest and back, and slide her fingers into his hair.
He moved farther down, parting her nether lips with his tongue, alternating between thrusting inside her and stroking her sensitive nub, holding her hips down as she writhed underneath him, her first release coming hard and fast.
He reared up over her, quickly sliding the condom on and slide inside of her, carefully stroking with each thrust, fighting himself to hold back until he'd made her come again. She did - quickly, and he let his own climax course through him.
Darren watched her face as he started to move off of her. Her eye's were half closed - totally lost to that lethargic state one experiences after an orgasm. Her hands slipped off his back as he stood up. She looked up at him, he could see her expression slightly confused when he reached for his cloths, starting to pull them on. He stumbled, leaning against the wall - his own muscles threatening to betray him. He wanted to lay back down, hold her while they drifted off to sleep, to wake up hours later and make love again - but he wanted to do that with the Alex he thought he knew. He chastised himself for considering backing out of his plan, and pulled on his shirt, and started buttoning.
Alexandra frowned, " You're getting dressed?"
"Yes," he said coldly, "I got what I wanted, I'm leaving."
That woke her up, she sat up, shaking, reaching for the blanket, "What!?"
Darren laughed bitterly, finger coming his hair, and picked up his coat, "How's it feel to be betrayed Alex?"
All the color drained for her face, "I . . . How can you . . . Christ! Darren I was under orders! If I had warned you - if she hadn't been there - Section would have canceled you!"
Darren stopped in the doorway, to her bedroom, "I was told all of that Alex - Madeline even informed me of the detailed records that Nikita, Michael - and you - found in Anna's Condo - I find it rather odd that someone engaged in something so illegal would keep such accurate records."
Alexandra stood up, following him out to her living room, her voice cracking, "What are you saying? That Section made it up? I saw the records myself Darren! Even you said - she wasn't the person you remembered!"
Darren stopped by the door, "You planted the records."
Alexandra gasped, her voice shaking, "NO! I didn't! Why would -"
"Because you were pissesd at me for saying her name in bed! You were jealous," Darren said calmly, "And someone who didn't deserve to die - is now dead because of it."
"Darren No!" she said, feeling the first tear slide down her cheek.
Darren looked at her coldly, and for a moment, he wavered. But only for a moment.
" Thanks for the fuck Alex," he said coldly, "It's been over a week since I got off."
He opened the door, and walked out.
Alexandra cried out in dispair, collapsing on the floor, sobs racking her body.
* * *
"Michael," Madeline said, a little surprised, "What can I do for you."
Michael rarely came to her office. Even to schedule things for new recruits, he submitted electronically.
Michael walked over to the plants on Madeline's wall, and fingered one of the petals.
"I want your permission to move in with Nikita."
Madeline was quiet for a moment, "I was expecting this actually."
"She's become a requirement in my life," Michael said evenly, "I'm sure you're well aware that we're involved."
"And you're work - both of you - has only improved," Madeline finished, " Is that going to be your next argument? Or are you going to remind me that you've seen myself and Operations together."
Michael turned his calm, emotionless gaze on her, "I hope that won't be necessary."
"I hope this doesn't affect your performance. The simple fact that you live with her, doesn't protect either one of you from being canceled if the situation warrants it." Madeline reminded him, her voice betraying her irritation.
"I expected no less," Michael told her, heading for the door.
* * *
Nikita saw Darren getting into his car, and leaving, his expression one of contempt. Nikita frowned, parking her own car, and quickly trotted up the stairs. She reached Alexandra's door, and listened, barley hearing the sobs coming from Alexandra on the other side.
"Alex!" Nikita said, banging on the door, "let me in!"
The End . . . for now.
Continue on to Forgiveness