For a Valentine Op to lose the desire to make love to beautiful women is a tragedy beyond speaking. In Section One, an operative is only as good as his last mission. Perfect is never good enough. To quote one uneasy heartbreaker with too much time on his hands, "Success is never final, and failure isn't fatal." But while the former was true, the latter was definitely not. In Section One, failure was so often fatal, it gave the lie to that operative's homily.

Michael Samuelle was once Section One's Casanova par excellence. Useful in any number of romantic situations, Michael was versatile, able to turn his sensuality on and off with very little effort, and seemingly, few aftereffects. Until Nikita came along.

There was something curious about their barely-consummated relationship. That they voluntarily kept their hands off one another for almost three years must have surprised TPTB. Oh, there were the exceptions. Lyons. The Armel mission. But what will it must have taken to resist the powerful impulses that drove their relationship for so long. Especially after having tasted of the forbidden fruit. Always hanging just out of reach. Forced to work with each other. Day in, day out. The rhythm of their daily lives at odds with their feelings in every possible way.

When Michael finally came to his senses and acted on the urges that kept him awake for long hours into the night, he was one with Nikita. But their relationship was not simple. Nor was it possible to maintain, given the inevitable interference from Operations and Madeline. Operations might have been content to let sleeping dogs lie, to cite his own canine analogy, but for Madeline.

Madeline had her own reasons for wanting to destroy Nikita. That she was also destroying Michael did seem a shame, but she was well able to live with that. She fed Operations stats and intel that seemed to bear out the necessity to take firm action as soon as possible. She drove a wedge between Michael and Nikita, and it worked.

For a while. But the feelings that were between the former Casanova of Section One and the former street urchin-cum-innocent were not based on lust alone. If that had been so, they would have burned hot and long at the very beginning, letting the embers fade to nothing, to die a natural death.

That was what infuriated Madeline. Always one to separate his sexual nature from his ability to love, Michael had always fallen in line with Section One directives, seemingly without being told or even caring about the outcome. But not this time. This was the real thing. This wasn't lust at all. It was unabashed, star-crossed, goddamn-Romeo-and-freaking-Juliet type true love.

Madeline could not stand another moment of it.

So when she learned that they were continuing their relationship, despite warnings and threats of certain cancellation, she acted. Alone. With malice aforethought.

She used a machine as well as chemical intervention to "adjust" Nikita's memories and feelings about Michael. On the surface, it seemed as though Madeline had finally won. On the surface, it seemed as though Nikita had lost that loving feeling. For good. On the surface, it seemed as though Michael was among the missing, despite his constant presence within Section One's all-too-stringent confines.

She underestimated the power of true love.

She forgot about the consequences of disturbing someone with the destructive power of Michael.

She just plain never thought beyond that single moment of triumph, hard won through trickery and chicanery.

Casanova loved not wisely, but too well.

Michael made no such mistake. He was more than capable of seeing beyond his own pain. Life had not been fair to him for a long, long time. How dare they compare his love for Simone, a well-trained Section drone, to the soul-stirring, death-defying love he felt for Nikita, still an innocent in one important way. She never lost her compassion.

Not even when she lost her memory.

Madeline should have thought of that. Love was not the only bond between Michael and Nikita. There were so many things that compelled them to be together, any one connection could be disrupted without totally destroying the essential nature of the bond between them.

Would they live long enough to love again?

Only Michael knew the answer to that question now.

Michael sat in his office, trying to ignore the surveillance cameras. He knew they were completely silent, but sometimes he swore that he could hear their tiny mechanisms whirring and clicking in time to some arcane rhythm.

He tried not to glare at the cameras. He knew Madeline was watching. She was not only watching, she was waiting. For him to fall apart.

He wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

It was hard not to show what he felt now. In the past, it was easy. Too easy. He would stare blankly, a calm facade firmly in place, no matter what underlying emotion threatened to reveal itself.

That was before his affair with Nikita. Nikita had opened him up, made him accessible to anything and everything. He felt like an emotional pincushion, full of holes where painful emotions pierced and pricked at him, then bled their contents into the fabric of his daily life.

He cherished the pain. He clung to it. It was Nikita's legacy to him. He was alive again. Only dead people could kill and not feel anything. That was what prevented Nikita from becoming one of 'them' in any real sense of the word.

Nikita. The very name in his head or on his lips managed to conjure up her body, if not her former spirit. She knocked on his door, and he inclined his head, ever so slightly, indicating she might enter.

"Hello, Michael." Her tone was friendly, if not actually loving.

"Ki-ta," he breathed, his voice softly accenting her name. "Come in, and close the door, please."

She did so, crossing the room to where he sat a few moments later. As soon as she sat down, Michael steepled his fingers, more in an effort to stop himself from touching her than anything else.

She disliked being touched now. It reminded her too much of what they had been to one another, and what they had lost. She bit her lip, hooking a strand of pale blonde hair behind one ear. "Mi-chael?" she almost squeaked.

He frowned. "What is it, Nikita?"

Suddenly Nikita looked away from him, unable to maintain eye contact with him. "I…" Her lower lip trembled suspiciously with some hidden emotion. "I…I miss…you."

Michael closed his eyes. This was the part that was hardest to bear. Nikita had these flashes of what seemed to be genuine emotional memories of their time together. Enough to frustrate both of them. And fulfill neither of them.

Sometimes Michael thought if he could only find a trigger, a catalyst, that would trip the switch in Nikita's head back on… But that kind of thinking led nowhere. He didn't know exactly what Madeline did to Nikita, but he was sure that Madeline cared nothing for the consequences of her actions. That meant that there might or might not be a way to undo what Madeline did.

He liked to think there was a way to restore Nikita to what she was. It was what kept him going some days.

But he knew one thing. Madeline wanted to erase any trace of Nikita's love for Michael. It appeared that she succeeded. He wasn't so sure.

He kept thinking about that poor discomfited heartbreaker he knew. It hit close to home, that homily. Success was never final. He nodded to himself.

Madeline needed an object lesson in the worst way. She was going to get one. In the worst way.

She didn't want so much as a friendly look to cross Nikita's face, if it was directed at Michael.

That was a shame. Because the one thing they still had going for them was their friendship. He reached out tentatively, touching Nikita's outstretched hand. She jerked away as if burned.

"Kita, please…"

The look on Michael's face was so tortured for one second, Nikita nearly cried. She stretched out her hand again and closed her eyes. And waited.

Michael touched her hand again, more lightly this time, and Nikita controlled the convulsive shudder that wanted to run through her entire body. "I have an idea, but I need your help."

She stared at him, her beautiful blue eyes open now, but tearful. "H-how?"

His eyes flickered up to the corner of the room, where the surveillance cameras were, and back again. She followed his gaze carefully, noting what he did.

She nodded slowly, a single teardrop making its way down her cheek. His fingertip caught the drop, unconsciously bringing it to his lips, to taste her essence again. She gasped, uncertain if she were moved or outraged.

They had traded roles. Michael was Nikita. Nikita Michael. Her face gave away nothing now. His face could not help but give away everything.

As if mesmerized, she moved, slowly approaching Michael. He pushed back his chair, but remained seated. She sat down again, this time on his lap. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against his chest. His movements calculated to reassure, not entice, he tried to show her affection without desire.

Her body was so tense, so brittle, he feared she would break before she would relent. But still he hung on. Bit by bit, Nikita relaxed…until finally she was able to lean against Michael. Chastely if not romantically.

He kissed her ear. Her eyelids fluttered. She almost remembered something then. Almost.

His lips next to Nikita's ear, Michael held her in his arms for several minutes. This was enough to sustain him. For a week, maybe more. "You're still my best friend, Kita."

She sighed. "And you're mine, Michael."

It was almost enough…

…to drive a woman crazy.

Madeline wanted the two of them apart. Separate. Miserable. Not sharing this cozy little tête-à-tête in his office.

She gnashed her teeth. Operations stole up beside her and saw what she was watching on the monitor. "Problems?"

"Oh, nothing I can't handle," she said calmly, feeling like the universe was somehow spiraling out of her control.

Michael knew that Madeline had come for Nikita. He heard her peremptory knock at the door. No matter that the door was locked. There was no such thing as a locked door in Section.

Madeline stood before Michael and Nikita, her slim, elegantly dressed body at odds with the woman's true nature. "There was a directive issued. You ignored it."

Michael nodded imperceptibly, Nikita still in his arms. She stared at Madeline from her safe haven, secure in the knowledge that no matter how many memories Madeline stole from her, she could not render Michael's memory of Nikita blank. Not without totally destroying him. And something told her that Madeline was not quite ready to take that step. Yet.

Madeline continued, as if Nikita were invisible. Perhaps she was, to her. Sometimes she felt that way. She certainly knew that the older woman had never once considered her feelings about what was done to her.

"You deliberately continued the personal component of your relationship against orders."

Michael smiled then, and the effect was somehow as chilling as it was inappropriate. "Madeline…you use words like field operatives use weapons. Personal component?" Michael laughed harshly.

"We were in love, Madeline. Does it bother you to hear words like that? I think it must…"

Madeline glared at Michael, both for interrupting her and for trying to usurp control of the situation. Michael didn't flinch or turn away from her scowl, but his grip on Nikita tightened. Visibly.

"The love that existed between the two of you is no longer there, Michael."

"So you say," Michael replied.

"Are you saying that it does? Are you telling me that Nikita has regained her memory?" For a full five seconds, maybe more, Madeline looked frightened. But she quickly composed herself.

So…whatever Madeline had done was not irreversible. There was at least the potential that it could be undone. Or that it would wear off, given enough time.

But Michael didn't want to wade through the possibilities again. He didn't want to listen to Madeline's false promises ever again.

Madeline refused to give an inch. "Michael…I am ordering you to relinquish Nikita to me."

"For what purpose?"

She could not believe that Michael, loyal to Section Michael, was questioning her orders.

"I explain myself to no one, Michael. Not even to you."

"That's too bad, Madeline." Madeline heard the subtle inflection Michael injected into her name, making it sound more French. Foolish man. Did he seriously think he could manipulate her?

Michael watched Madeline's face. She was angry. Furious. Yet not a glimmer of fury showed on her face. She might have been carved from stone. But Michael knew Madeline well. Too well, he sometimes thought. Just because the enemy passed the occasional friendly comment did not make her any less dangerous.

Michael sighed heavily. Madeline gloated. He hid his thoughts and feelings better than Madeline did. She could not read what she could not see or hear. Madeline could be strangely intuitive, especially where he was concerned, but it would do her no good this time.

He let her think she'd won. He was counting on it.

Madeline tapped Nikita on the shoulder, her body language indicating that it was time for Nikita to separate herself from Michael. For once and for all. Forever.

Nikita shifted herself off Michael's lap and slowly stood up.

"There can be absolutely no contact between the two of you. Is that understood? Friendly or…otherwise." Madeline waited for Michael's reaction. It was not long in coming.

Michael nodded. Nikita's head swiveled around. "Just like that? You're going to give me up without a fight, Michael?"

Michael regretted having to do this to Nikita, but it was necessary. "Yes."

"You understand how it is, Nikita. Michael's true loyalty has always been to Section One, not you. You've never been able to see that." Madeline was gratified to discover that Nikita now had unshed tears in her eyes.

Michael's green eyes flickered back and forth, between the woman he loved beyond life itself and the Section administrator who sought to destroy that woman. "You can have her, Madeline."

Nikita looked stunned. "Michael!"

Michael couldn't answer Nikita. Not without betraying what he really felt. He was convinced that if he could make Madeline angry enough, she would slip and make a mistake. A mistake he could exploit.

Madeline smiled. It was a feral smile. Calculated to frighten her prey. But what was one to do when one's prey simply refused to believe they were prey?

"May I say goodbye to Nikita, Madeline?"

Madeline raised an eyebrow. "I said no more contact, Michael."

"I understand." Michael loosened his grip on Nikita entirely, feeling as though he were literally letting her slip through his fingers.

Nikita looked back over her shoulder at Michael. Tearfully. His heart finished the anguished work it had begun when he first heard the words, "I don't love you anymore." There was simply nothing he could say. He dropped his gaze, unable to face her eyes.

Those eyes would haunt him forever.

Madeline closed the door behind her and Nikita. Michael closed his eyes.

It was like losing her all over again.

He thought about revenge. Revenge could indeed be sweet. But he knew he would give up the idea in a heartbeat, if it meant that Nikita could feel what she felt before for him.

He sank down into the chair again, running his hands idly over the smooth surface of his desk. He could still feel her in his arms. Her breath against his neck. Her shoulder against his chest. Her ear tantalizingly close to his mouth.

"Ki-ta…" he sobbed brokenly, sliding down further and further until his wet face touched the desk. His heart imploded on impact.

This was not for show. Michael had no idea if Madeline or Operations were still maintaining their surveillance on him, but he no longer cared. He could only react.

The truth was, Madeline didn't want Nikita to remember. But she was not totally committed to the idea that Nikita must be salvaged at any cost.

Operations disagreed. "Madeline, are you telling me that Michael and Nikita can't work together now?"

"That's right."

"Why?" Operations drawled, wondering why he sometimes felt like he was playing mental catch-up with Madeline. She treated him as if he were a recalcitrant child who needed to be kept in line. Sometimes…he dared to think that she was the one running Section One…not him. He shook his head.

"Their situation is too…volatile. Left alone together…they will inevitably succumb to the same emotions as before."

Operations frowned, his light blue eyes frosty. "Tell me I'm hearing this wrong, Madeline. The whole objective all along was to find a way to keep their effectiveness from slipping. Now they're useless to me?" He was incredulous.

She barely nodded.

"How can this be?"

Operations paced the length of the observation deck and back again, stopping directly in front of Madeline. "This is unacceptable, Madeline."

He waved a finger threateningly in Madeline's face. "Michael is currently George's fair-haired boy, Madeline. I admit, George may not always be in power, but right now, he's who we answer to. If Michael disappears, like a blip from his radar screen, there's going to be all hell to pay."

"All right," Madeline agreed. "But what about Nikita?"

"What about Nikita? For nearly four years, I've been dangling Nikita like a carrot in front of Michael's nose. She's become the key to controlling him, Madeline. If we lose her, we lose Michael, too. Make no mistake."

"So you're saying you don't want either of them canceled?" Madeline's expression was calm on the outside, but inside, she was lamenting Operations' lack of fortitude.

"More than that, Madeline. I want you to undo whatever you did to 'adjust' Nikita and give her back to Michael, like a great big Christmas present, all wrapped up with a pretty bow. Do I make myself clear?" His face loomed large and menacingly, but she averted her eyes, looking out over the common area below.

He cupped her chin with one large hand, forcing her to make eye contact with his glacial stare. She winced, despite her resolve not to show any weakness.

"Do I make myself clear?"

"Like crystal."

The first thing Operations did was to authorize Nikita and Michael working together again. He knew that Nikita was not yet restored to her former self, but he was sure this would keep Michael happy for the time being. It would at least stave off certain insurrection on his part.

Meanwhile, Madeline dawdled and dragged her feet, seeing no good reason to undo what she had done. Operations was no sentimentalist. She knew that firsthand. He wanted Michael and Nikita together because when they were together, their numbers were good. Compelling evidence in their favor.

George could be reached. Madeline had proved that once, albeit with Operations' cooperation. But he could be reached again. Madeline wondered if there was a way to eliminate Michael from the picture without sacrificing him or alerting George.

A slow smile spread across Madeline's beautiful features, lighting her dark chocolate eyes from within. She never felt more alive than when she was plotting. Perhaps there was a way.

"Michael," Madeline called to the operative once destined to succeed Operations as head of Section One. Now that would never happen. Madeline hid a secret smile at that thought.

"Rumor has it that you are long overdue for another promotion." She watched Michael's face, knowing how he cherished his status and denied his ambition, possibly even to himself. He wanted to feel that Nikita was more important, but the truth was, he needed the status he held. It was woven intricately into his self-esteem now, and Madeline thought, this just might be as effective a tool as Nikita herself.

He didn't answer Madeline right away. Not because he was enamored of heading Section One someday. Not because he was at a loss for words. But because he was curious to see what she was up to. He didn't doubt for a moment that Operations was now at odds with Madeline over Nikita's restoration. He gave Madeline points for sheer deviousness and manipulation, but Operations was a practical, by-the-numbers leader. He wanted what was best for Section One.

And what was best for Section One coincided with what was best for Michael and Nikita right now.

It was as close to having Operations on his side as Michael would ever get, and he knew it.

Michael circled Madeline, like the trained predator he was. For all intents and purposes, this was a calm, controlled, normal, everyday conversation between the second-in-command of Section One and its chief field operative.

Not.

Michael mentally calculated his advantages. One, he and Nikita were not being canceled. If Madeline could have, she would have. The fact that Michael was still standing was proof that someone was protecting them. Probably Operations.

Two, Madeline lost the battle to keep Michael and Nikita from working together. That left a big crack in the system for Michael to wriggle through. And he would.

Three, having noted all of the above, there was now no reason to mask his true feelings towards Madeline. She was no real threat to him and Nikita now. If she could have eliminated him, she would have done so already.

Four, Madeline was not necessarily the only person who could restore Nikita's memory. That made her…vulnerable.

Five, even if Madeline were no longer a threat, Michael wanted revenge. Someone had to advocate for Nikita. Who better than him?

Michael drifted closer to Madeline, and she grew uneasy under his scrutiny. True, they were in a public area, where anyone could see them, but that didn't reassure her at all. She knew how dangerous Michael could be if unleashed. And damned if he didn't seem to be slipping his emotional leash right now…

"I know what you're up to, Madeline," Michael hissed. "You think I want to be head of Section someday…who could give all this up?"

Madeline ingenuously thought that promoting Michael upwards, either to another Section or to Oversight, would effectively end his ability to threaten her plans. But she was wrong.

Michael threw his arms open wide, including all of Section One as far as he could see. A curious smile traced Michael's lips, making him look more malevolent than if he merely continued to stare at her blankly, as was his custom. "You want my rightful place in Hell, Madeline? You can have it!"

Madeline gasped.

"You thought I didn't know you would like to take over Section, Madeline?" He stopped and considered. "I take that back…you've set your sights higher than that, haven't you? Oversight, maybe?"

Michael paced around Madeline, his movements sharp and tense. Every time his hands moved, Madeline could not help but feel her apprehension grow.

Michael stepped closer to Madeline, so close his breath fanned her face. "What is it you don't like about me being with Nikita, Madeline? You don't have to tell me…but I would really like to know."

"The two of you meeting in secret, plotting our overthrow…" Madeline felt faint. She could hear the weakness in her voice, making her reasoning seem so arbitrary…

Michael laughed harshly. "You don't honestly believe that, do you, Madeline?"

His green eyes darkened, giving them a dangerous glint, as the color deepened to jade. "We never talked about you…or even thought about you…You gave us precious little time together, Madeline. Did you really think we would waste it on you?"

Madeline jerked her startled eyes upwards to meet Michael's fierce gaze. "All the times you met? It was to have sex?"

Michael's expression grew even more somber, if it were possible. His face came so close to hers, she instinctively moved to back away, but Michael reached out and held her in place. "Now I see why you can never understand us, Madeline. Sex is easy. Love is much harder. Too hard for you. You don't know what it means."

Madeline did not give up easily. "You delude yourself, Michael. Without her memory, Nikita is unable to feel whatever you claim she felt. It doesn't matter if it was lust or love. She'll never be yours again."

"That's where you're wrong, Madeline," Michael whispered grimly.

Michael abruptly released his hold on Madeline. "I don't need Nikita's memory restored."

She nearly fell over. "What?"

"And that means I don't need you. Wonder what Operations will have to say about all that?"

"Michael," Madeline sputtered anxiously, "you need me to undo Nikita's modification."

"Not really." Michael shrugged. He loved seeing Madeline scramble. It was a rare pleasure, but one he could well afford.

"I don't understand."

"You don't have to. You don't want Nikita to remember? I agree. What would be the point of reliving all that pain, all the lies and the manipulations, all the dirty tricks?"

Madeline was usually swift on the uptake, but Michael was way ahead of her on this.

Michael's green eyes flared with shocking intensity, their emerald fire scalding her. "Much better to start all over. Wouldn't you agree, Madeline?"

"S-start all over?" Now Madeline was trembling in earnest.

"I can make it happen. All over again." That wasn't a statement. It was a vow.

"No!" Madeline shook her head violently back and forth.

Nikita appeared suddenly behind Michael. "Make what happen all over again, Michael?"

"Love…"