Regrets
Michael stood in the middle of Alexandra's living room. He'd let himself in, and no one had come to see who was letting themselves into the apartment. He frowned. She should be checking. None of them should be such heavy sleepers that they didn't hear someone turning a key in a lock.
But in the 15 seconds that he let himself in, thought these things and stood in her living room, he heard something that told him why no one had come running.
He heard Alexandra sobbing, crying, and retching. He heard her begging Darren to give her something for the pain, he heard Darren pleading with her to be strong.
They were 24 hours into her withdrawals now. Nikita had looked heart sick when Michael stopped by her apartment. Nikita had just got back from Alex's. Darren was going to spend the rest of the afternoon and night with Alex. Nikita told Michael that Alexandra hadn't been doing well at all. Michael had a couple hours before he had to be back in Section, so he'd stopped to check on her.
Michael had faced these withdrawals, unassisted - himself. When it had been part of a mission. When he was still in a mission - and before Section had developed a protocol for dealing with it. But going through Section detox was not an option. If Section One found out she'd become addicted on her own, she'd be canceled. Her risk for abusing again in the future was very very high. Michael thought she'd do OK if she had the support systems - and if she was having to answer to tests often because he forced her into them. In time, she wouldn't need that hanging over her head. Madeline and Operations wouldn't see it that way though.
Michael hoped he wasn't wrong.
He walked into the bedroom, and stood in the doorway to the bathroom. Darren sat on the floor, with Alexandra in his lap. The redhead was shaking and crying softly into his chest. Darren looked exhausted, and he had claw marks on his neck. Michael didn't need to ask how he'd gotten them.
Darren looked up at him, "I figured it was you."
"Good thing that it was," Michael said, but that was it.
"I can't turn my back right now," Darren said, and nudged the garbage can next to the toilet.
Michael looked into it, to see the shards of a broken glass - a broken mirror. An interrupted suicide gesture?
Michael took the garbage can, and disappeared for a few minutes.
"I can stay with her for a few hours," Michael told him.
Darren shook his head, "We'll be fine."
Michael nodded, "Can I bring you anything?"
"Get me a plastic glass of water," Darren asked.
Michael nodded, and headed for the kitchen.
The walls of Alexandra's apartment were covered in photographs. She had a computer, printer, scanner, the whole computer set up in one corner. She's dove into her hobby with both feet. Even in her kitchen, she had photographs covering the walls of the cabinets. Michael opened two cabinets before he found a plastic cup. He opened her fridge - knowing she had a Britta water filter in there. He filled the glass, and sighed, seeing the contents of the fridge. Left over Chinese food - that was spoiled. Pizza that he was sure was bad too. The orange juice container was all but empty. A lot of things had changed in Alexandra's life in the last few months. Michael chastised himself. He should have seen this. He knew he was seeing behavior changes, and he should have watched her closer. He should have checked in on her.
Michael tossed the old food into the garbage, and took the plastic glass into Darren. Darren had just started to disentangle himself, and was reaching to turn the water on in the shower.
"Thanks," Darren told him, "You going back to Section?"
"I'll stop by the store first," Michael told him, "There isn't much in the fridge."
Darren nodded, "She might be hungry tomorrow - can't even keep water down now."
Michael squatted down next to Alexandra, and reached out to tuck a sweat matted curl behind her ear. She opened her eye's and looked at him with pain filled eye's.
"I don't know if I can do this," she said softly.
Michael dropped his hand to her shoulder, "Yes you can."
He stood up, and looked at Darren, "I'll bring you something to eat - what would you like?"
Darren sighed, "I don't know - get me a sandwich or something."
Grocery shopping was one of the simple pleasures in life for Michael. He enjoyed cooking - so he spent time carefully picking out his ingredients when he had the chance. But this time, his list was simple. Milk, orange juice, a box of cereal. A couple cans of soup. He picked out a few oranges. He stopped by the deli and got a sandwich for Darren - and a six pack of Coca Cola. Darren always seemed to have a coke in his hand.
Michael passed by the meat section - and thought about some of the dinners he'd made for himself and Nikita when they lived together.
Operations was back in Section now. In another week, Michael would be back to his old schedule. . . .
While Michael waited in the checkout line, he remembered how pushy he'd been with his relationship with Nikita. He'd often thought about that when he thought she was dead. If he hadn't been so open, so careless . . .
But he wouldn't make that mistake this time. They'd be discreet . . .
Darren stripped off his clothing and stepped into the shower with her, steam already filling the bathroom. She stood under the steady stream as he worked shampoo and then conditioner into her hair. He worked up the lather into the shower puff and started to wash her body. She'd quietly stood through the whole process until now. Now, she looked up at him, the look in her eye's conveying longing . . .
"So clinical," she said softly, her voice telling him she thought he wasn't seeing her, didn't want her, "I remember when you couldn't keep you're hands off me."
Darren smiled a little, and stopped his ministrations, "I'm trying to take care of you baby, if you want me to do something for you, to you, ask me."
She's had her eye's closed, on arm steadying her self against the shower wall. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out for a moment. She'd hesitated. His Alex had never been unsure of herself, not like this, not with him.
Darren wished he'd strangled Scott with his bare hands.
"I liked it when you use your hands better," she replied quietly, but she didn't look at him, afraid to see rejection in his eye's, or worse yet, revulsion.
Darren chuckled a little, and lathered up his hands, and went to work. He knew what it was that she was wanting - his touch, not just a bath.
He would accommodate her wishes - at least the ones that wouldn't get her addicted. How could he refuse when she looked at him with those sapphire blue eye's of hers. He started with her arms and legs, quickly going working his way back to her torso. He started at her shoulders, and worked his way down. He'd watched her nipple's harden into rigid peaks as soon as he touched her, and now he gently cupped her breasts, his thumbs working the sensitive peaks. She moaned softly, her lips slightly parted.
Darren brushed his mouth across hers, his tongue slipping between her lips, the kiss tentative, testing the waters. She kissed him back, hungrily.
Darnel's hands slid farther down, playing with her pierced navel and the ring for a moment. Then he slid his hand down to her knee, gently lifting her leg so she rested her foot on the side of the tub. He slid his hands in between her thighs then, delving inside the moist folds of flesh. She gasped and moaned into his shoulder, clinging to him with both arms as he worked her sensitive flesh.
Darren reached up and grabbed the shower head off it's wall mount and rinsed her off, and started to follow the trail his hands had made with his mouth. He felt her body react and tremble as he plunged his middle finger inside her sensitive sheath, his thumb rubbing back and forth across her clit. He took one erect nipple into his mouth, suckling, laving with his tongue, gently nipping. She wrapped her arms around his head, holding onto him to keep her balance. He backed her up against the shower wall, and dropped down to his knee's. He lifted one thigh over his shoulder, and holding her up against the wall at her hips with both hands. He parted her with his tongue, enjoying the taste that was uniquely hers. He alternated between stroking her clit and thrusting into her sheath with his tongue, until he felt her pelvis jerk and buck, and he knew she'd come, hearing the sharp gasp that escaped her lips.
Michael let himself back into the apartment, and heard the shower running, and then turn off. He unpacked the groceries and put them away. Just as he was finished, Darren carried Alexandra out into the living room. She was dressed in a different pair of sweat pants and sweat shirt.
Darren sat her down on the floor in front of him, and started to brush out her hair, in long gentle strokes.
Michael stood back by the kitchen and watched. He almost felt like a voyeur. Did he and Nikita look so intimate together?
"What did you get me?" Darren asked after a few moments, breaking the silence.
"Turkey and cheddar," Michael told him, and grabbed two cokes from the fridge.
Michael sat down in one of the single chairs, and popped open his coke, "Feeling better Rouge?"
She looked up at him, and for once, her gaze didn't hold anger, betrayal or contempt. This time, she looked self conscious, guilty. Michael knew inside she wanted to roll over and die. If nothing else, she'd never use again because she'd never forgive herself for letting them down - that's the way she'd see this. Self reproach was something Michael knew well. He spent more time hating himself since he'd found himself in Section One than not.
Darren recognized the French word for Red.Rouge - so Michael had taken to calling Alex red - in French. For a brief moment, Darren wondered if there was any other meaning behind the endearment. He and Nikita had been gone for 7 months. Michael and Alex had thought they were dead . . .
But if Michael and Alex had become any more than friends, material and mentor - Michael would have known about the addiction Alex had tried so hard to hide. Besides - Michael was hardly Alexandra's type - and Michael would have told Darren. Alex would have told Darren - and they'd have both gone to Nikita. The whole thing would have been very ugly. Darren decided the endearment was just a pet name. Walter called Alexandra 'Red' in English often enough, and sweetheart. Lots of people in Section called Alex Red. The fact that Michael called her red in French meant nothing. Hadn't Darren been witness to some pretty nasty arguments between the two of them? Alexandra would switch to French - just to cuss Michael out in his own native language. She'd say impitoyable salopard - ruthless bastard.
"A little better. The shower helped," Alexandra said, her voice quiet.
Michael watched her for a few moments. Alexandra had closed her eye's, losing herself to the sensations of having someone else brush her hair.
"What happened with the broken mirror?" Michael asked her.
Alexandra didn't open her eye's, "I'm fine Michael."
Michael looked up at Darren, seeing the haunted look on his face. Michael didn't need to ask any more. Alex had been bent on killing herself . . .
Back in Section One . . .
"When will Nikita be back and able to go into the field," Operations asked as Michael walked into his office.
Michael kept his emotionless mask on - he was back in Section One.
"She'll be off the crutches tomorrow - she should be able to use her leg within two weeks," Michael told him.
"But she'll be able to walk normally by the end of the week then?" Operations asked him.
"Yes," Michael replied, wondering what Operations was going to send her on.
"Good," the older man said, "There is a terrorist group she'll need to infiltrate - she's and Alexandra are exactly the kind of women that would fit in."
Michael looked at the screen that Operations turned his way. It was an ultra violent Neo nazi group. Nikita was going to hate this. But Michael had to agree. Blonde, blue eye's, fair skinned, she'd fit right in, looks wise. Even Alexandra with her red hair would fit in well, because she was so pale, so white.
As if she knew they'd talked of her, Nikita started to hop across the main floor of Section One on her crutches, three recruits in tow.
"She takes her duties as a level 5 very seriously," Operations mentioned, "Madeline tells me she implements continual training for everyone under her authority."
"Yes," Michael said evenly.
"And she kept Darren, while you kept Alexandra," Operations mentioned, "I wonder if that's a wise decision, considering how rebellious Alexandra has been recently."
Did he know? Michael wondered.
"It would do more harm than good to continuously move her around. Alexandra is very strong willed. I don't want to destroy that. It's one of her strengths - properly tempered," Michael replied.
"She's been a problem the last few months," Operations snapped, "If you're going to keep her - temper her strong will. We don't coddle our operatives here Michael - you do remember that, don't you?"
Michael was about to make an excuse to leave, say he had reports to do, when Madeline walked in, Jonathan in tow.
Michael wished they'd canceled Jonathan months ago.
Nikita was sitting in one of the chairs, her crutches propped up against the wall, when Alexandra walked in.
Alexandra looked OK - but she looked tired. Her hair was still damp from a recent shower, and she had on base, eyeshadow, eye liner, lipstick, mascara - the works. Nikita knew she was covering up shadows under her eye's.
"Why are you here?" Alexandra asked her quietly, "I would have thought you'd be on some down time."
Nikita shrugged, "I'll be off the crutches tomorrow. I'd be off them today - but everyone hassles me if I cheat."
Alexandra laughed, "Gee- that sounds familiar."
Just then, Jonathan and Operations walked in. Nikita felt Alexandra's tension level go through the roof.
"Nikita, I know you're still healing, but I have a mission you're well suited for - and it won't require a lot of physical activity," Operations began.
He did something with the remote, and the holo screen came up, displaying several pictures, "You and Alexandra are going to infiltrate this Neo Nazi group. We have reason to believe they are developing a new chemical weapon. Your mission is to infiltrate - find the data, and come back. Nothing more. When we take them, we'll use a full assault team."
Jonathan started to go through the main ring leaders, telling them about their psyche profiles, what to expect. Nikita and Alexandra were going to 'picked up' in a club in Berlin. Nikita would use her recent wound as an excuse as a reason to sympathize with the group. She's say it was some non Aryan type that shot her - in a grocery store robbery.
They would leave tomorrow morning. Wardrobe had packed for them, and Birkhoff was building their background. They would be given PDA's to study on the plane ride to Berlin, tomorrow.
When Alexandra and Nikita left the briefing room, Alexandra hung back, and walked with Nikita.
"How are you feeling?" Nikita asked her.
Alexandra took a deep breath, "Better . . . I . . . Nikita I have to do something about Darren."
Nikita looked over at her, "OK . . . what's happened?"
Alexandra sighed, "I was thinking this morning - it was very early, and I wasn't sleeping because I've been sleeping so much . . . I couldn't handle it - thinking Darren was dead - and I chose a really shitty way to not feel the pain."
Nikita nodded, "Yeah . . . but we all make mistakes."
Alexandra took a deep breath, "When Darren and I were first out of training, I resisted getting involved with him - because I was afraid that if anything happened to me - and I was sure it would soon - that Darren would just be devastated - and die or kill himself. I never once considered that it might be me - that couldn't handle it. I don't want to face that again."
They had reached Nikita's office. Nikita hopped behind her desk, and keyed in her security code, "Go on."
"He doesn't really need me Nikita. When he looks at me, I see regret in his eye's - more than anything else - and I can't help but think that I've done some irreparable damage by getting addicted - and his having to see me through it," Alexandra told her.
Nikita sighed, "Alex - Darren wanted to help you - otherwise, you'd still be hiding it. We'd have never found out."
Alexandra sighed, "I know what my chances of staying clean are Nikita - they suck. I have the cards stacked against me. This place here is the biggest problem - and my only way out is death - and I'd rather live. If I continue to depend on Darren - and something happens to him - I'm screwed - I won't want to go on. Maybe if I end it with Darren now - if anything every happens to either one of us - we'll be OK - I'll be OK."
Nikita took a deep breath, "Do you think it will be so easy to just walk away - you see him all the time here."
"I pass him in the hall - we're on separate teams - and like I said - I see regret every time I look in his eye's - I don't think he's going to argue so much," Alexandra told her.
Nikita sighed, "I think you're wrong. Do you not feel the same about Darren anymore?"
Alexandra bit her lip, "I do love him - more than I thought possible - but he's different since he's back - you are - we all are now. He doesn't need me Nikita, not like I need him - and that's dangerous. I can't wait around for us to get caught - and have it used against me. We both know Madeline and Jonathan will see something, sooner or later."
Alexandra stood up, "I just wanted to tell you myself - to tell you why. I don't have anyone else to talk to now."
"Alex," Nikita stopped her, as the redhead reached the door, "Just so I understand you - you're going to leave a man who loves you - because you're afraid to love him now."
Alexandra frowned, "I don't think he feels the same way Nikita - but yeah - I'm afraid. I don't want to face the last 8 months ever again - and I don't want to die. It seems I have two options."
"Is she angry that he caught her?" Michael asked, watching Nikita drum her fingers on his desk.
Nikita had hopped down to Michael's office after Alexandra left her office. Michael knew the look he saw on Nikita's face, and had the security codes right away. Nikita told him everything that Alexandra had just told her.
"No - I think she's afraid - I wouldn't even have told you here, or bothered you right away with it - but Alex is really your matieral now - and she's about to nix her biggest support system. Darren's gonna flip out on her."
Michael steepled his fingers, "Flip out?"
Nikita sighed, "He won't get violent - but they'll argue - he'll refuse to cooperate. It won't be pretty - he's possessive."
Michael raised an eyebrow, "Darren - possessive. What happened in 7 months that you haven't told me about?"
Nikita frowned, "He changed - it's a defense mechanism. You were getting possessive - because I was pulling away."
Michael couldn't deny that. He'd always been very posessive of her. But she'd learned to see it - pick it out.
"She's feeling guilty," Michael said after a moment, "And she's insulating herself."
"Did you see her doing that a lot during the last 7 months?" Nikita asked him.
Michael sighed, remembering all the outbursts, the anger, resentment . . .
"Not at first - she started to. That's what she was doing with the cocaine," Michael reasoned, watching Nikita's face for reactions.
Nikita groaned, "I guess I should be glad that she'll be stuck to me for over a week - at least we know she'll get through that first week . . ."
Michael wished it was anyone else but Nikita going out on this mission - because of her injuries, "When are you leaving here tonight?"
"Couple hours," Nikita told him, "When are you out of here?"
"Tonight," Michael told her, sliding a key accross his desk at her.
It was a door key - and Nikita knew it was Michael's door. It was an invitation - a request. Nikita picked up the key, and slid it into her pocket.
"What?" Darren demanded, setting down his soda.
Alexandra had come to his apartment. She'd just told him that she was ending thier relationship - because she couldn't afford to be attached to someone, and survive in Section.
"When we first got out of training - I resisted getting involved - and I was foolish enough to believe that I could handle and deal with losing you. I didn't think you would be able to handle what was going to happen to me - seeing me have to sleep with targets - get hurt - killed . . . I was so arrogant - so stupid . . . and you handled it all so well . . . I was the one who couldn't handle it. With Anna - I almost couldn't breath. When I thought you were gone - dead - I wanted to die. I took risks - you know I was abusing myself - I defied orders, baited Michael . . ."
Darren watched her as she jammed her hand into her jeans pockets. She was nervous, uncomfortable. She looked up at him, and he saw tears in her eye's. She turned away.
"And you think breaking it off is gonna change that . . . or don't you feel the same way?" He asked her.
She kept her eye's down, "I'm afraid - and I don't think you feel the same way."
Darren grasped her chin, turning her face to she looked up at him. She kept her eye's closed, her lips pressed tightly together.
"How in the hell could you even think that?" he asked her quietly.
She opened her eye's, and looked up at him, "Because when I look at your face - I see regret - everytime you look at me - and pity - I can't live with that."
Darren shook his head, " I regret not contacting you - I feel so bad about all the things that happened to you, that I had no control over - but it hurt you, and I hate that - that doesn't mean I don't love you."
She sighed, "I think that too much has happened - we're both different now - how can you really know . . ."
Darren slid his arm around her waist, and started to pull her to him. She put her hands on his chest to push away.
"Don't pull away from me," Darren ordered softly.
He moved to kiss her. She turned her mouth away, and yanked out of his arms, "Darren - don't."
She grabbed up her car key's on the counter, and walked towards the door.
"Or is it that you don't feel the same way?" Darren asked her.
She stopped, and looked back at him, "I do love you - to much - someday something will happen to one of us - if it's me - you'll be fine. If it's you - I'm finished. Section is going to use 'us' against us - they've done it already."
Darren took a deep breath, "Scott said something that I didn't believe at the time Alex - now I'm not so sure - is there someone else?"
Alexandra frowned, "Who is Scott?"
Darren groaned, "You're drug dealer Alex - I followed you and saw you meet him."
She looked surprised, "You followed me!"
"Yes," he said, "The bartender - you bought a drink - and he sliped the cocaine into the napkin."
She sighed, "You think I . . . What did he say?"
"That he was fucking you - and I didn't believe him at the time," Darren told her, "Are you seeing him?"
She groaned, "No - I'm not. I told you before - I didn't get involved with anyone - I can't afford to!"
"That's good - because he's probably dead by now," Darren told her, started to walk towards her.
Alexandra felt her jaw drop open, "Dear god - what did you do?!"
"Michael and I had a chat with him, searched the bar - and turned him over to the DEA. He's out of business and so is his supplier," Darren told her, his voice menacingly quiet, "And while we're questioning him - he had all these things to say about you - how you liked it . . ."
She looked hurt, "And you believed him! I never! I wouldn't! You are the only person I ever slept with by choice - you can't hold what I do for Section against me!"
She reached for the door, her hand closeing around the handle. She just barely opened the door, and he shoved it closed, one arm on one side of her, his other on the other side, effectively trapping her.
"If you see someone outside of Section - they won't be able to handle our lifestyle - if they can - they'll be using you for sex, and sex alone - and whoever he is - he won't be able to satisfy your needs for long. If you're telling me the real reason - you'll never be able to get involed with someone inside of Section," Darren said - his voice menacingly quiet again, and he spoke in her ear, his breath on her neck. He traced the shell of her ear with his finger tip, "And you still crave my touch - you did yesterday - that won't go away - you're denying yourself - and me - for nothing Alex."
She shoved him back from her, and yanked the door open, "You just don't understand!"
He grabbed the door before she slammed it closed, "You're right Alex! I don't!"
Nikita left long before Michael did. She did it on purpose. She stopped by her apartment - and packed a small bag - consisting of some toiletries, a change of cloths for tomarrow. She was about to grab up a slinky night gown, but she thought of Michael's orderly closet - and wondered what he'd think of finding her wearing one of his shirts - and nothing else.
So she left for his apartment, went into his bedroom, stripped off her clothing, and selected a long sleeved black silk shirt from his closet, and put it on, only b uttoning it up to just below her breasts. Then she grabbed a book, and stretched out on his sofa to read - and wait.
Michael knew she was inside, and he let himself in - his eye's scanning the room. He found her on the sofa, bare legs crossed at the ankles, her back propped up against the arm rest, reading a book. She was dressed in only one of his black shirts, it was unbuttoned - open between her breasts, revealing the curve of one breast where it had slid to the side. She put the book down, watching him.
Michael set his car keys on the counter, and stood there to just look at her for a moment. Nikita carefully swung her legs over, and carefully stood up. She took two steps, and Michael realized she was limping.
Micheal strode across the room, "Don't -"
He wrapped his arms around her waiste, one hand sliding down her back, over her buttocks, feeling her in through his shirt.
"Chere'," he said, his voice husky, "You're not wearing anything at all under this."
She slid her hands inside his jacket, and pressed her open mouth to his neck. Michael slid his hand under the shirt, cupping her bare butt. He squeezed, and Nikita nipped at his neck.
That was the last shred of Michaels control. He scooped her up, and carried her into his bedroom.
Nikita laughed as Michael dropped her onto his bed. To Michael's ear - it was deep and sexy. He yanked off his jacket and the black t-shirt, unzipped his slacks and yanked them down and off with his briefs.
He crawled up the middle of the bed, pushing Nikita's bent legs a little farther apart. He started to unbutton his shirt - the one on her, parting it as he went. First, he revealed a thatch of blond curls, and he sifted his fingers through them, watched her body quiver. Her nipples must have become erect, because he saw peaks poking up against the fabric of the shirt. He parted her allready swelling labia with his finger, finding her hot and wet. He spread her juices up to her sensitive clit, stroking the sensitive flesh until she moaned.
Then he used his tongue.
Nikita felt liquid heat spread through her body, her blood turning to fire, as he fingers explored her. She watched - drunk on the erotic sensations raging through her, as he lowered his mouth to her swollen flesh. She felt his hot tounge tasting her, lapping at her body's secretions, stroking her swollen labia as he moved up. His tongue hardened as he flicked it over her clit, and he stayed there, alternating between stroking with the tip of his tongue, to suckling, and the occasional nip.
She shoved her hands into his hair, pressing his head down into her, arching up to meet his ravaging mouth.
She cried out softly as her first orgasm rocked her body, and felt the loss when he raid his head up.
Micheal unbuttoned the last button, revealing tight hard pink buds that were her nipple. He cupped her, his thumbs stroking over them. Nikita pulled him down to her, pulling his face to hers. It was his kiss that she wanted now, and Michael was more than willing to oblige her.
He felt his hard shaft brush against her vaginal lips, and she quivered, and Michael shifted, so she felt it again, and again. Moments later, he grabbed at the condoms in the bedside table, quickly rolling one on.
Michael thrust into her, moaning out loud, enjoying the tight hot wet feel of her. He fought himself to remain still for a moment, allowing her to body to adjust to him. Nikita pushed her hips up, telling him that she'd decided she was more than ready.
Michael started to thrust into her, each stroke carefully measured. She drew her knee's up, and Michael knew she wanted him deeper inside her. Michael grasped her legs, pulling them over his shoulders, sinking deeper inside her.
She brushed her hands on his chest, his stomach, caressing. Michael rubbed his thumb across her clit while he pumped into her. She watched him, mesmirized. Michael grasped her hands, "I want to see you touch yourself - while I'm inside you."
He pulled her index and middle to her labia, pushing her fingers between the now parted lips, and guideing them in rubbing her own clit.
Micheal guided her hand for a few moments, then let go, watching her fingers stroke and rub her clit, as he pumped into her.
He fought himself to not come, wanting to wait until she reached her orgasm first. He felt her body tense, her body arched, and her muscls clenched around him as the first wave of her release hit.
Micheal let his own release come, moaning her name, "Nik-it-a!"
The doctor walked out of briefing, nervous but feeling like he had made the correct recommendation. There was simply no way Nikita could possibly walk without crutches yet
Nikita sighed, leaning on her crutches still, "I could do part of the mission - I could just tag them in the bar."
"Alexandra could tag them in the bar," Madeline said, crossing her arms, and walking over to look at the profile displayed on the screen, "We need someone to get inside - Birkhoff - I need a list of all our female operatives and their status."
Nikita knew what she was looking for. Madeline was hoping there was a very white female cold op that was available - or one that could be easily extracted from their current mission.
Alexandra sighed, "I really don't need a partner for this - I can seduce a man without another woman there."
"The percent of penetration is extremely low with one lone female," Madeline said, sighing, "These people are dangerous. I wouldn't send any level 5 we have in alone."
The list of operatives came up, and all three of them stood in front of the display. There were four other white female cold ops.
One of them was on a deep cover, one was in abeyance - one was on medical leave for more extensive injuries than Nikita had, and the fourth was simply too old to seduce younger targets.
"What about Kristie?" Alexandra asked them.
Madeline looked at her for a moment, "She's not quite finished with her training - accelerated as it is."
Alexandra nodded, "I know - but we're going to miss our window of opportunity here . We have to get to two of their members , tag them and find out where the group is meeting. I can search their compound as long as I have a second set of eye's and ears , and she can tag and seduce a man now, she could do that before she came to us."
Madeline was quiet for a moment, and then looked at Nikita, "Do you agree?"
Nikita took a deep breath, "I don't follow her training Madeline , I see her briefly in the gym with Alex - only in passing. Alex works with her more than I do. Stephen would be a better judge than me."
Madeline nodded, and picked up the phone, "Birkhoff , have Kristie sent to my office."
They listened as Madeline called another department, and arranged to have the ID packs changed, and then Madeline called wardrobe.
Nikita waited until she was off the phone, "You're not going to see what Stephen say's, Alex doesn't train Kristie , she spars with her , practices languages."
Madeline shook her head, "Stephen will want to keep her in a bit longer. He tends to be more conservative with female recruits, and I've monitored Kristie's scores independently."
A few moments later, Kristie appeared, dressed in sweats and sneakers.
"You wanted to see me?" Kristie asked.
Madeline gestured for Kristie to take the remaining seat. Nikita had gone over to sit on the sofa. Alexandra sat in the other seat in front of Madeline's desk.
"Nikita was scheduled to go out on this mission. She's not medically fit to go back out yet."
Madeline turned the screen so Kristie could see it, "These two men frequent a club in Berlin. You and Alexandra will be there, get close, tag them, get them to take you home with them. You'll leave that night, and probably repeat the routine a couple times. By the end of the week, they'll probably start to try and recruit you into their organization. When you get inside, you'll need to find out where they are running everything out of. We want a location, and we want the two of you to assist Birkhoff in downloading their system. Then you leave."
Kristie nodded slowly, " OK . . . that should be doable."
"This won't be an easy mission," Madeline warned her, "You're going to have to sleep with someone you don't know and probably won't like. You're going to have to fake prejudices you don't have, and these are dangerous people. There will be very little down time, if any, and virtually no backup."
Kristie nodded, "OK."
"Birkhoff will have a PDA for you, Walter will get you're munitions. Wardrobe is packing for you was we speak. You'll leave in an hour," Madeline told her.
Kristie waited until she and Alexandra were in the hall before she spoke again, "Stephen is going to shit gold bricks."
Alexandra laughed, "Probably. Are you gonna be OK . . .doing this?"
Kristie nodded, "Yeah . . . I can do this. You're asking about seducing a guy I don't know . . . aren't you."
"Yes," Alexandra said quietly, "I wanted to die the first time I had to do it."
Kristie took a deep breath, "I'm not relishing the idea - but I can do it."
They had reached Birkhoff's comm station, and he handed them the two PDA's. Then they went to Walter's station. There, they were given the small dot style comm units, that fit just behind the ear lobe. Both were given small guns that would fit inside purses or in thigh holsters. Router equipment, some small charges that looked like makeup compacts. A few pieces of jewelry that had visual and camera capabilities. Wardrobe had a suitcase packed for them, and ID packs with passports and credit cards.
Michael stopped as he passed Nikita's office. She was in there, sitting behind her desk, her crutches against the wall.
The mission had left two hours ago.
"Nikita," Michael said, stepping through the doorway, "What happened with the mission?"
Nikita sighed, "Medical didn't clear me, I can't bear weight well enough on this leg yet. They sent Kristie with Alex."
Michael was silent for a moment, "Stephen agreed to this?"
Nikita shook her head, "No one consulted him. Madeline has been tracking Kristie's progress on her own."
Michael watched Nikita's face, resignation plainly visible. He knew Nikita did not want to see Alex or Kristie do what they were going to have to do. Not that she relished subjecting herself to it , but it was part of Nikita's personality to protect others.
Nikita hit the security code under her desk, giving them some privacy, and Michael closed the door.
"Why is Madeline monitoring Kristie?" Nikita asked.
"Probably because of the issues between Stephen and I, and my involvement with Kristie in the past," Michael replied, "Was the profile modified?"
"No," Nikita said, "Not at all. I was nervous with it being Alex and me. Alex isn't emotionally equipped to do this kind of mission right now, and Kristie has never been out on a mission where she wasn't tech support. Neither one of them know what they're walking into."
Michael steepled his fingers, and rested his chin on them, "They both think on their feet well. I didn't want to see Alex off the leash right now."
Nikita sighed, "I know, believe me, I know."
"Darren came to see me this morning," Michael told her, "She broke it off with him. They argued."
"Alex is always on the top of her game when she has to think about someone else, and she's gonna be watching out for Kristie," Nikita reasoned, "How is Darren handling it?"
"He's hurt, angry," Michael replied, "But his temper has cooled. When she comes back, he's going to tell her to take her space. He'll be there when she's ready."
Kristie prayed to god her German was passable. The cover that had been set up for her and Alexandra was that they were students,touring Europe for the summer. So far, she'd gotten around with out a hitch.
The apartment rooms that they had rented as part of their cover were small but quaint. Two little bedrooms, a sitting room and a bathroom.
They went to the club that night, and picked up their targets within two hours. At the end of the night, when the club closed, they brought their targets back to their rooms. Kristie had to keep her eye's closed, and pretend it was someone else, but she got through it. He'd just passed out when someone banged on her bedroom door - it was the man that spent the evening with Alexandra. He snapped Kristie's target that they had shit to do early tomorrow. Minutes later, they were both gone.
Kristie grabbed up her bathrobe, and ran into the bathroom, and took a very hot shower, and scrubbed every inch of her flesh until she hurt.
Alexandra must have let herself into the bathroom, because it was her voice that asked Kristie if she was OK, through the steam that made it impossible to see in the small bathroom.
"Yeah," Kristie said, rinsing off one last time, and turning off the shower. She grabbed up a towel, and wrapped herself up in it, and sat down on the closed toilet, and started to brush through her hair.
Alexandra did the same routine. Steaming hot shower, scrubbed every inch. She wrapped up in a towel and sat on the edge of the bathtub, and started to comb out her hair.
"It's OK to cry and puke," Alexandra told her after a moment.
Kristie could just now see the redhead's face, the steam had started to clear.
"Does this get easier?" Kristie asked her after a few minutes, "I've never been squeamish about sex - in some circles, you could even say I had a reputation, but I hated that man!"
Alexandra sighed, "Yeah, and I think that it gets easier is the worst part. I never had trouble pulling the trigger, I just didn't feel great afterwards. The first time I had to actually have sex with a target, I almost puked all over the bed. I did puke as soon as I got out of there, and I still don't like it, but in my head, I'm with someone else, and I get through it."
" I don't even want to go sleep in that bed," Kristie told her.
Alexandra nodded, "Well, we didn't use mine, you can sleep on the other side of my bed if you want, not that we'll get any sleep for a while."
"You think they'll be back?" Kristie asked, "I'd hate to have done all that for nothing."
Alexandra nodded, "We have dinner plans with them tomorrow night."
It was four days later that Kristie and Alexandra were invited out to the country house where they were going to meet some of the 'friends' of the two men they picked up.
It went like the other nights. They partied late into the night. Kristie noticed that everyone seemed to be getting tired much earlier than they had on the previous nights, but it was blamed on fatigue - they were all so busy with their activities.
Politics were spoken freely here. No one admitted to anything other than marches and soap box sermons. They were running things like a political campaign.
But that was what they'd expected to find.
Kristie managed to survive the attentions of her unwanted lover for the past four days one more time, hoping the antidote for whatever Alexandra had slipped into the wine that evening would work.
After an hour, she thought it must have, because the house was deadly quiet, and Kristie was wide awake. She pulled on a bathrobe, and slipped out into the hall at the time she and Alexandra had agreed on.
The redhead was just slipping out herself. They'd agreed to dress in bathrobes, in case they were caught, they could say they'd been unable to sleep, and had gone in search for the kitchen or something.
"You listen at the door - if you hear anything, you tell me," Alexandra told her, as they slipped into the 'office'.
Kristie kept her ear pressed to the door, while Alexandra quickly went through the desk, and assisted Birkhoff in downloading the system. She heard Alexandra tell Birkhoff that bug had been planted, and that they were done.
They slipped back up to their rooms, and attempted to sleep.
"So now what?" Kristie asked, once they'd been dropped off at the boarding house they'd taken their rooms at.
They had dinner plans with their targets for that evening, and their targets had left, saying they had things to do.
"We pack up and go home," Alexandra told her, "You remember where you planted your two bugs?"
"Yeah," Kristie told her, " In the . . ."
"Just tell Birkhoff," Alexandra told her, turning the lap top to Kristie, "Here you go."
Kristie typed into the private chat room that Alexandra had logged into with Birkhoff, explaining the location of the bugs. Birkhoff told her when their return flight was . . . in three hours. They weren't to check out of the room. Just to go to a certain location, where someone would meet them with their exit Id and location. It would look like they'd gone shopping if they were being followed, and kidnapped off the streets. Their covers would remain in tact.
As part of their exit, they went to the shopping district. They were supposed to be two blocks down in twenty minutes, where they'd be kidnapped of the street.
They started across the street, and just as they reached the middle, the sound of a squealing tires and a horn startled them. Kristie felt someone shove her hard, and she stumbled, sprawling several feet away.
She rolled, and sat up, looking around.
There was a car in front of her, the windshield cracked and partially shattered in, and Alexandra lay on the ground in a heap, blood streaming from her nose, about ten feet in front of the car.
"Alex!" Kristie screamed in English, totally forgetting for the moment where they were.
She scrambled over to the redhead's side, and pressed her fingers to her neck, and found a pulse. Thready, but a pulse.
She heard people screaming and talking to her in German. She demanded several times that someone call an ambulance.
The driver was on his hand's and knee's begging for forgiveness. His brakes were failing he told her, and he didn't have the money to repair them, he had kids to feed . . .
Kristie didn't know if he was telling the truth or not. She watched him, carefully. She wondered if the group they'd been working on might have something to do with this. Her gut told her no, but she'd learned to not trust anyone . . .
The ambulance arrived, and they carefully loaded up Alexandra. Kristie climbed in with the medics, determined to stay with Alexandra. She didn't know what to do now. They were going to miss their pickup. She had to call in, she just didn't know who, or when. She watched in silence as the medics swarmed over Alexandra.
When they arrived at the hospital, she was left in a waiting room. Who do I call? She thought. She was afraid to call one of the secured lines . ..on an unsecured phone.
She decided she'd call Stephen's cell phone.
She stood there, waiting as the operator got her an international line, and listen to it ring. Finally, Stephen's' sleepy voice answered.
"Yes?" he said.
"Dad?" She said, hoping he'd understand what she was doing, "This is your daughter - Kristie. Alex has had an accident."
"What?" He said, instantly awake, "Can you tell me what happened?"
"We were going to meet our - someone to shop with - we were in the shopping district - and this guy hit Alex with his car - she's being treated now - I don't know how she is yet - but we were supposed to meet the . .. the tour guides."
"What hospital?" He asked her.
Kristie told him, spelling it out.
"OK, I'll either come - or your uncle Michael or Aunt Nikita - It will be one of your family - remember Kristie - you're in a foreign country - be very careful with the police or who ever - if you have to - ask for an American consulate - but only if you have to."
"OK," she said, "I . . . do you want me to call back?"
"Hourly - give me updates on Alex," he told her, "I'm gonna go make arrangements."
Kristie hoped to god that their ID held up. The police talked to her and to the hospital staff. Kristie stuck to their original story. She called her 'Father Steve' every hour, until he told her he and her Uncle Michael were on their way - not to call anymore unless it was an emergency.
It had been 12 hours since the accident. Kristie sat in a hard chair at the end of the bed, watching Alexandra lay deathly still. The doctor had told her that she had a severe concussion, and that they'd had to relieve the pressure on her skull. She was comatose. Her ribs were broken, along with one of her legs, and an arm. They didn't know the extent of any brain damage yet. They had her hooked up to machines to monitor her breathing, but she was breathing on her own. Another machine monitored brain waves - not that Kristie understood them - but she could see that there was activity. That had to be a good sign. Alexandra's hear rate was steady too - but Kristie didn't know if it was normal.
She heard the door open, and she turned quickly, her hand in her purse. She relaxed when she saw Stephen and Michael. They had three other people with them - and the doctor that had been treating Alexandra.
Stephen and Michael were dressed very expensively. Michael talked with the doctor and the other people, and Stephen stopped in front of her. He squatted down, and spoke softly in Italian.
"Your uncle Michael and I are going to get Alexandra on his private plane - with the best doctors, we're leaving in a few minutes," he told her, "Have you seen your friends that you made here at all?"
"No," Kristie answered in Italian.
She listened as the doctor argued about releasing her, but finally relented. Alexandra was loaded onto another gurney - hooked up to equipment that came with the other people with Michael and Stephen. Kristie followed the entourage. Alexandra was put into an ambulance - and Michael, Stephen and Kristie got into a car with a driver.
"You're sure your targets had nothing to do with this," Michael said in English, once they were moving.
"As sure as I can be. Who knows - if it was planned - I'm amazed," Kristie told him, "Are they really bringing Alex in or are they gonna kill her?"
Stephen looked at Kristie, his expression softened, "She's not being canceled Kristie - we really are all going back in."
Kristie nodded, and was silent for a while.
"I didn't want to call the secured line - because I was calling from a pay phone," Kristie explained.
"What you did was fine - if I had know Madeline was going to send you out, I'd have given you the number to call for stuff like this - but you did fine," Stephen told her.
Nikita and Darren stood outside the glass doors of medlab, watching the doctor examine Alexandra again.
It had been two days. She was starting to come out of the coma.
"They'll cancel her if she has brain damage," Darren said quietly, "Won't they."
Nikita nodded, "Yes."
Darren sighed, "Maybe that would be better - for her . . . she wasn't . . . happy . . . she'd be miserable if she couldn't . . . function . . ."
Nikita slipped her arm around Darnel's waist, hugging herself into his side, "Her brain activity is good apparently - don't write her off yet."
As they watched, they saw the doctor stop, and look at her. He stood there for several minutes, his back to them, blocking their view.
Then he walked away, and reached for the phone. Nikita and Darren watched Alexandra move her head, her eye's open.
Nikita felt Darren tense up, waiting in anticipation. The doctor talked to her some more, then Madeline came down the hall, and breezed by them, her stride quick, determined.
It was 20 minutes that they spent talking to her. Madeline left then, and stopped in the hallway, looking at Nikita and Darren.
"Does she? . . ."
"Have brain damage?" Madeline finished the question, "Yes and no. She doesn't remember anything - it appears to be total amnesia. She can speak - her speech level is where it was before, I even spoke to her in two languages - but she doesn't know her name, where she is, or what happened. The doctor is going to do an MRI."
"Can we see her?" Nikita asked.
"Yes, I think that would be good. Jog her memory perhaps. If she becomes tired, let her rest - if she gets agitated, get the doctor," Madeline told them, "I'll be checking on her often."
"Madeline," Nikita stopped her, "Should we stay away from the topic of Section One?"
Madeline shook her head, "No . . . but let her ask questions. Don't volunteer anything about Section."
Nikita was just now walking without crutches, but she let Darren pull the door open just the same, and followed him through.
Alexandra looked at them, her expression curious, assessing, but open. She sat there, looking them over.
Alexandra watched the two new people come in, both of them looked worried. They must know her, she thought to herself.
The woman was slender but limber looking. She had long pale blonde hair, cornsilk blue eye's and fair skin. She was dressed in a pair of jeans and pink sweater. She didn't wear as much makeup as the other lady had - and she looked . . . warmer . . . somehow.
The man was all darkness some how. He had darker skin, black long silky hair, Hispanic looking. Smoldery charcoal gray eye's. He had a neatly trimmed mustache and goatee, full sensuous lip. Large built, and tall - all muscle. He was dressed in nice jeans and a button up shirt, open at the throat. There was a gold hoop in his ear.
"Who are you?" Alexandra asked them.
Darren opened his mouth, but hesitated. He looked at Nikita.
"I'm Nikita, and this is Darren - we're friends of yours," The blond woman told her.
Alexandra watched them, "Who was that woman who was here?"
"Madeline," Nikita answered, "She say's you don't remember anything."
"No . . . the doctor called me Alex - is that my real name? Or a nick name?" Alexandra asked them.
"Alexandra is your first name, you go by Alex for short - Or Red - it's a pet name of sorts," Darren told her, I call you querrida when we're alone . . .
"So who is Madeline - she won't tell me where I am, or what happened," Alexandra told them, "And she kinda freaks me out - she smiled, but it wasn't a smile."
Darren laughed a little bit, "That's just Madeline . . . she's a . . . psychologist of sorts."
"Oh," Alexandra said, "So where am I?"
Darren looked at Nikita, "I'm gonna go grab us some chairs, we could be here for a while."
Nikita smiled, and watched him disappear into the back hallway that linked the med lab rooms. He pulled in two chairs, and they sat down.
"Alex, we're in Section One," Nikita told her.
Alexandra looked at her, "Is that the hospital?"
"No," Nikita said, "We have a small hospital in Section One - but it's not a hospital."
The redhead looked at her expectantly.
"OK . . . so . . . is it place?" Alexandra asked her.
"Yes," Nikita told her, "It's . . . We've been told to let you ask questions, and not volunteer much - so we don't overload you I guess."
"Oh," Alexandra said, "OK . . . it's a place - a town?"
"Not a town or a state," Nikita answered.
Alexandra was quiet for a moment, looking around, "OK . . . so . . .what kind of place is it?"
"It's a company - sort of," Darren told her.
Alexandra frowned, "I'm in a hospital - in a company . . . why doesn't that feel right?"
Darren rolled his eye's, "It's not a normal company. We're a counter intelligence company."
She looked at him, "I . . . I don't . . . counter intelligence . . . like spy's? Am I in trouble? Did I do something?"
"You haven't been arrested, you work here," Nikita told her.
"Jesus Christ . . . I'm a spy . . . is that how I got . . . messed up? Did I get caught?" she asked.
"You were hit by a car - totally random accident," Darren told her.
"A car? I . . . I don't remember any of this - is everyone else OK? I seem to be pretty messed up," she looked down at her casted arm, and leg.
"Everyone else is fine," Nikita assured her, "You were the only one who was hurt."
"Oh . . . OK . . . so how come I remember how to speak - but I don't know this other stuff?" She asked them.
"They don't know," Nikita told her, "It may all come back."
"I . . . do I have some family that should be called?" Alexandra asked.
"No - not really. You don't . . . have any family, not anymore," Darren told her.
"Why?" Alexandra asked him.
They spent the next two hours explaining Section One to her. She asked how she got here, what she did here. She asked if she had other friends. She asked where she lived. Did she have any pets. What did she like. She was surprised at what they told her, but she didn't get upset, she was just surprised.
Then she became tired, and they left her to rest.
Michael visited her later, Walter, Birkhoff, Gayle, Kristie, Tom . . . Madeline stopped in often - Operations came by once.
Darren got tons of pictures from her apartment, and brought them in. Nothing jogged her memory, and Darren started to get really worried. Madeline even produced pictures of Lora and Jose - but Alexandra remembered nothing.
Darren stood in the hallway with Kristie, both of them watching the redhead sleep through the glass doors.
"Are they going to cancel her?" Kristie asked after a few long moments.
Darren took a deep breath, I hope not, dear god please don't . . .
"I don't know . . . If she can't return to full status, yes," Darren said softly.
Kristie watched Darren's face. His jaw had a firm set to it. He was thinking about something intently.
He looked up and down the hall, and Kristie followed his gaze. He was looking at the ceilings. What was on the ceilings? Light fixtures, camera's . . . cameras!
He looked back at the hospital bed, his gaze sweeping the hospital room.
"Darren - even someone as cocky as me know's you'd never make it," Kristie said softly, so only he would hear, "I heard about how far Max and Regi got - and they only lasted a month and a half - and they were healthy. She can't even walk."
Darren looked at the strawberry blonde, about to say something angry. But he stopped himself. She was right - and he knew it.
But Alex would try if it was you . . .
They stood there in silence, watching as a medical tech came out and checked Alexandra's vital signs.
"How do they cancel operatives?" Kristie asked him quietly, "Injection?"
"I think so," Darren said, and then said suddenly, "Kristie - why don't we go have a cup of coffee, outside Section - you've got outside privledges, right?"
She nodded, knowing he didn't want to talk here.
Silently, the two of them left Section One. There was a coffee shop a few blocks away. They sat outside, ordered and waited until the waitress left.
"What if Section just thought she was cancelled," Kristie told him.
"We'd have to rig the equipment - so they registered her as dead," Darren told her, "And something that would damn near kill her - risky under the circumstances. We just might really end up doing it."
"Where do we stash her?" Kristie asked him, "She needs medical attention still."
Darren didn't know anyone he trusted. Where would he have hidden in the past? In the past - he had friends on the streets of Chicago . . . the Latino's would have hid him . . . would they hide Alex for him now? How would he answer their questions . . .
"I know of a place - but it's risky . . . but she's dead anyway . . .damnit, Alex would find a way around this!"
Kristie chewed her bottom lip, "I know one of the med techs pretty well - we talk a lot - I might be able to convince him to help me."
Darren looked at her, "How much do you trust this guy?"
Kristie grinned, "I trust his libido."
Darren shook his head, "I can't ask you to do that."
"You're not asking, I'm offering," Kristie told him, "Besides - I owe Alex my life. I'd have been hit too if she hadn't shoved me out of the way."
Darren shook his head, "And what happens when he decides to hold that over your head? Does he have rights to your body for the duration of your life in Section? That's a terrible way to live. No - we'll find another way."
Kristie set her coffee cup down, "If he wants to narc me off afterwards - it's his ass too."
Darren shook his head, "Christ . . . I'll need to be away for a few days - to hide her."
"Guess you should get food poisioning then," Kristie told him, "You can't come in to Section of you're puking your guts up. How do they get the bodies out?"
"I don't know, but I'm gonna find out. I don't want you any closer to this than you have to be Kristie. If I get caught, there's no point in all three of us being cancelled," Darren told her.
Kristie was about to protest, then stopped, "What would Alex do?"
Darren smiled, "She'd find a way to make it work . . . Michael and Nikita had been captured once - Section thought they went AWOL. Alexandra and I did a little snooping and we did find them - but we went AWOL doing it. She smuggled us in, in cargo cretes. She wanted to go alone, I had just had my apendix out - but I insisted on going. We were so lucky everything went well . . . I wish she had her brain in tact enough to help me now."
Darren downed the last of his coffee, "She was always a better strategiest than I was."
His cell phone rang.
"Shit!" Darren swore, and hit the on button, "Yeah? . . . Ok."
He turned it off, "I just got called in."
"How much time do you think she has?" Kristie asked him, "If you tell me where you were gonna stash her . . ."
"With a street gang I was friendly with as a teenager - I don't even know if the same people are there or if they'd help - I know they would laugh in your face Kristie - they're Latino's," Darren told her, "Just . . . lets see what I'm being sent out on."
Darren came out of briefing, and found Kristie playing with a computer, he walked over to her, and squatted down next to her, "I'll be out 24 hours at the most - what did you find out?"
"They'll hold off for another week," Kristie told him, "Stephan say's that Madeline will do a pretty intensive battery of mental tests on her first - but she'll have to wait until she's awake enough. If you don't get back in time, I thought of another place."
Darren nodded, "Where?"
Kristie took a deep breath, "San Francisco - a cell of underground hackers. Section never tracked me there."
"Do you trust them?" Darren asked her.
She sighed, "Do we have a choice?"
Darren took a deep breath - I should be back in time - I don't want you to do shit while I'm gone Kristie."
She rolled her eye's, "I found schematics for the heart monitor - I think I can reprogram it - rig it with a transmitter, so it shows her flat lining. I just gotta get my hands on it - and Joel will do that for me."
Darren opened his mouth and Kristie gave him a warning look.
"We talk about this when I get back - don't do anything till I get back," Darren told her, "Promise me."
She rolled her eye's, and crossed her fingers behind her back, "I promise."
Madeline left, telling Alexandra they'd talk later. It had been a week. Alexandra sat there, her eye's drifting to the clock. It was 8:00. She hadn't seen Darren in a couple days, he was out on a mission apparently. Nikita had been in earlier to see her, Kristie visited her every day. Darren's 24 hour mission had turned into a week long even. It was Kristie that told her that she'd been closer to Darren than just friends - but their relationship was rocky. Kristie kept asking her if she knew what plans Section had for her.
Alexandra thought about what she'd heard the medical people talking about earlier. Cancellation was the word they used. They thought Madeline would probably order her cancellation, because she'd been laid up for 2 months - and then they'd have to retrain her, and would she ever be any good to them?
From what Alexandra had been told, no one left this place - no one quit. They didn't have a choice. She'd learned that people who were here had all done something bad - they left their old identity behind - the world thought they were dead. Ghosts, was the word someone had used.
Alexandra felt tears building up in her eyes. She was afraid.
The doors swooshed open, and Michael walked in. He rarely smiled, but when he did, it was kind, gentle. Alexandra thought that he and Nikita were either friends, or more, but she wasn't sure. She didn't ask. Michael wasn't a talker.
His expression changed as he reached her bedside, "Are you in pain?"
"No," she whispered, "I . . . I think Madeline is getting frustrated with me. I heard two of the medical techs talking - they said that she was gonna order my cancellation . . . and someone told me no one gets out of here. We work here until we're killed on a mission or something - is she gonna have me killed?"
Michael took a deep breath, at a loss for words. It had been a fear that was keeping both him and Nikita up late at night.
"You know, I hate it when you get that emotionless mask on - and you do that a lot - just . . . just tell me. If they're gonna do it, I'd rather know now," she said, her voice starting to crack.
"I don't know," Michael told her, "It depends on how useful you'll be to us."
He tucked her hair behind her ear, his thumb brushing her cheek, "Part of what makes a good operative - is the ability to do what they did to get here - you may have lost that, when you lost your memory."
She took a deep raggedy breath, "But maybe I didn't - am I so different? Do I act different?"
Michael nodded, "Yes . . . you hated to be touched - and even I can see you like it now."
She gulped, "You don't know what it's like, being stared at all day - like your some kind of thing . . ."
Yes I do, Michael thought to himself.
"What else?" She asked him.
"You didn't let people get close to you - you pushed away the people that did," Michael told her, "And you crave attention now - which is understandable - because what caused it, is no longer present."
Alexandra looked up at him, with tear filled eye's, "What caused it? Lora and Jose? Or something else?"
Michael sat down on the edge of the bed, and pulled her into his lap. She snuggled into him, burying her face into his chest. Michael rubbed her back.
"You are beat up, and raped - badly - on a mission - and by your first trainer - he was canceled for it, but that doesn't take away the trauma. You have to do a lot of seduction work here - so that was how you coped - it became mechanical. We thought Darren was dead for 7 months - when he had actually been transferred - that hurt you too," Michael told her.
She shivered, "I guess I should be glad I don't remember that."
Michael smiled, I am too . . .
He saw Nikita hesitate at the door, but he waved her in. Michael was a little uncomfortable. He was used to Alexandra cussing him out in four languages, not curling up into a ball and crying into his chest.
" I can do it, I'm sure," Alexandra said, "If I could do it before, I'm sure I can do it again . . ."
"Are you gonna talk to Madeline?" Nikita asked him, "Would you?"
Michael nodded, wondering if he had anything he could use as collateral. He thought about calling George . . .
"I'll speak with her," Michael told her, "Are you leaving?"
Nikita nodded, "yeah - I'll be at my place . . . if you want to come over . . ."
Michael nodded, "I'll be by later."
Madeline's office . . . It was a place Michael was very familiar with. He'd gone through briefings, interrogations, negotiations here . . . and this would be one of those very important negotiations. He found Madeline sitting behind her desk.
"I've been expecting you," Madeline said, "She's afraid."
It didn't surprise Michael that Madeline had been watching. He'd been expecting it.
"Yes," Michael replied, "She over heard two medical techs talking about the possibility of her cancellation. She's put together what that means."
Madeline did something with the remote, and Michael watched Alexandra willingly curl up his lap.
"Her behavior is so different - it's interesting - as you said - all of the things that shaped her personality are gone - she's still intelligent - she picks things up quickly - but the fear of closeness is gone. She craves being touched. She reaches out to everyone. That can be dangerous. She'll be harder to train than Nikita," Madeline told him.
"Or will it be easier, because it's buried somewhere - she does remember languages," Michael pointed out, "While her body is healing, we could begin the non physical things."
"I'll finish my profile tomorrow," Madeline told him.
Darren was pulling his hair out. A week! It was supposed to be 24 hours! He was gonna run out of time!
Birkhoff was feeding him information, helping Darren hack into the computer system. Now they were just waiting for the codes to cycle.
"Birkhoff," Darren asked, taking a deep breath, "While we're waiting . . . have you seen Alex?"
"Yeah," Birkhoff said, "She had no clue who I was."
Darren felt his heart start to break, had . . . "How is she doing?"
"Memory is still gone apparently, but physically the doc's think she's doing good - she's staying put for a change," Birkhoff said.
Darren sighed in relief, she was still alive then . . .
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