Operations glared at Birkoff. "What do you mean, Michael's gone? Gone where?" Birkoff shrugged.

"I'm not trying to be insubordinate, sir, just stating a fact. Nikita was apparently able to get a message out by cell phone, and I was in the process of tracing her location when Michael ran out."

"Do you have any idea where he might have gone?" Operations asked sarcastically.

"No, sir. Just a warehouse downtown. Harbourside."

"I see. So now what?" Operations must have been speaking to himself, Birkoff decided, or it was a rhetorical question. He was fresh out of ideas.

Operations looked pensive a moment. "Okay, get a team together, Birkoff, and construct a new profile. We're going in to get Nikita…and Michael."

The team piled into the mission van and set out for the harbourside. Warehouses dotted the entire strip. It was anyone's guess which one hid Michael and Nikita.

Jurgen seemed mesmerized by Nikita's crying. "He's not worth it."

"Yes, he is," she said, not a little self-consciously, now that she knew Michael was listening.

"Did you cry like this when you thought I was dead, Nikita?" He leaned forward to grasp her chin in his non-gun hand, and Nikita sprang at him, her hands finally free. She flipped the gun out of his hand and into hers in one fluid movement, and she stood, legs apart, holding him at gunpoint.

"Don't make me shoot you, Jurgen. I do feel sorry for you, and I don't want your death on my conscience."

Michael slid along the floor until he was under Jurgen. He swept Jurgen forward, smashing his knee into the cement floor. Jurgen howled in pain, and Michael took the opportunity to get back on his feet. He wanted to kill Jurgen, it was all he could do to restrain himself.

He aimed his gun at Jurgen, his hand shaking visibly. "Go ahead, Michael, it's what you want."

Michael glanced at Nikita, who still had her gun drawn on Jurgen. "Kita, are you okay?" She nodded speechlessly and lowered her gun slowly. She was unconsciously ceding to Michael's authority by doing so, whether she knew it or not. But Michael wasn't sure that his judgment wasn't impaired by seeing Jurgen trying to hurt Nikita. He lowered his gun as well, though he did not holster it.

"Jurgen, I have no quarrel with you. Just let us walk out of here, and we'll both forget you exist." Michael's voice was deceptively soft.

Jurgen looked up from where he was sprawled across the floor, a wicked smile crossing his lips. "Right," he agreed.

Michael backed up cautiously towards the door, nodding to Nikita to follow him. Jurgen suddenly surged forward, catching Michael in the chest, sending both of them to the floor. They struggled, trading punches briefly, before Michael brought up his gun hand to Jurgen's temple. Michael lay on his back, legs extended, half-sitting, his gun pointed at Jurgen, who was partially lying across Michael's legs. "Give me a good reason, Jurgen. I don't need much right now."

Jurgen looked curiously sad. "You've had so much, Michael. It isn't fair. You don't even appreciate what you have."

Michael slowly crept off the floor. "What makes you think so?"

Jurgen sighed. "You have a beautiful woman who loves you. You don't even give her the time of day most days, much less acknowledge you have feelings for her."

"You don't know how wrong you are, Jurgen." Michael clicked the safety on his gun. He stood next to Nikita and put his arm around her, quite possessively. "She's my wife now, Jurgen. Give it up."

"You're lying." Jurgen was clearly shocked.

Michael shook his head. "You know I'm telling the truth. You just don't want to believe it."

"You fool!" Jurgen railed at Nikita. "It's his way of keeping you in line, Nikita, it's always been that way, he uses your feelings for him to make you do what he wants!"

Nikita surveyed Jurgen's ravaged face with a sad smile. "No one can make me do anything, Jurgen. If Michael took advantage of me, I let him. I gave him that power, and I can take it away."

Michael nodded. "I gave Nikita the same power over me that you claim I have over her, Jurgen. Don't be blinded by your own jealousy."

"But what about your son, Michael? How do you rationalize that one away? You slept with another woman for years, while you were lying to Nikita about your feelings for her! You had a son with her, for Christ's sake!"

Michael's face shut down totally. "I don't owe you an explanation, Jurgen. None of this is your business."

"Nikita!" Jurgen screamed at her. She turned away.

Nikita was not unmoved. She had tears in her eyes, not from watching Jurgen disintegrate, though that was savage enough, but from the issues that Jurgen raised. She knew it was his intention to drive a wedge between her and Michael, and in a way, he had succeeded. He had made her think about things she tried desperately not to think about.

Nikita followed Michael out of the warehouse, blindly, as she was having difficulty seeing through her tears. Michael appeared not to notice Nikita's distress, but when they arrived at the door to the warehouse, he stopped suddenly. "Kita…" he said with a catch in his voice, "I thought I was going to lose you back there." He stroked her face with his hand. "You're crying…what's upsetting you? Is it Jurgen?"

She closed her eyes against the fresh wave of pain. "Yes…and no…"

"When I thought you were dead, Michael, I didn't know if I could go on. Even for our child." She opened her eyes, bright with tears, and they spilled down her cheeks, streaking through the dirt that had managed to coat her face. "Then Jurgen…brought up all that pain again…"

"Kita," he said to her, honestly shocked. "You don't believe what Jurgen said, do you?"

"Which part, Michael? About you manipulating me? We both know you've done that, again and again. About you lying to me about your feelings? Or about not telling me that you had a wife and a son all those years that I would have died happy just to hear that you loved me, a little?"

She wrapped her arms around herself and cried. Michael didn't know what to do. She was right, of course. She had an unerring knack for tapping into the heart of things, and she had zeroed in on exactly what had been wrong between them from the beginning.

He looked at her, then he shook his head. "You think our entire relationship is built on lies?"

"That's not what I meant, exactly. It's just that Jurgen is right, too. I love you so much, I've always been willing to settle for whatever piece of you I could get. Maybe you should have told me about Elena…"

"Maybe?" Michael was incredulous. "Maybe? Even I know that was a gross miscalculation on my part. I should have defied Section. It's not like I haven't before."

"Maybe you knew you didn't have to. Maybe you knew you could have me anyway." She sniffled, and Michael just wanted to hold her, but he could see that she didn't want to be touched.

"Kita…you're giving me motives I never even thought of. I have used you, I admit that, but I thought we had gotten past that. You said so yourself."

"How do I get past the fact that you had a son with another woman, Michael? I know you had to live with her, pretend to love her, pretend the marriage was real. But did you have to have a child with her? Did you want to?"

Michael turned pale. "Adam was the only clear victim in all of this."

"I'm not asking you to give him up. I'm asking why he even came to be."

"The truth is, Michael, you were more heavily invested in your relationship with Elena than with me. And I can't stand thinking about that right now."

Michael tried to hold Nikita, but she broke away, running down the street. "Nikita, wait!"

Michael watched Nikita disappear from view. He felt like he had just taken a shot to the chest. "Kita…" he groaned in a low voice, smashing his fist against his leg.

When he walked out on the street, he felt the eyes of Section upon him. He knew they were out here somewhere. Looking for him and Nikita. He wiped his face with one arm, uncaring how he looked right now. Well, they could just keep looking for them. He wasn't coming back in until he found Nikita. He was putting himself on mandatory refusal. As of now.

"What do you mean, you haven't hear anything yet, Birkoff?" Operations growled.

"I mean, exactly that, sir. No one has heard from Michael or Nikita in…" Birkoff consulted his watch. "It's now six hours."

"The team saw nothing?"

"Absolutely nothing, sir." Birkoff nodded.

"And there was no trace of whoever kidnapped Nikita?"

"That's about it, sir."

Operations was not having a good day, make that a good week. He yelled for Madeline, "Madeline! Get up here now!" not realizing that she was standing nearby. She winced to hear herself addressed in this fashion, but realized that Operations was under a great deal of pressure most of the time. He lacked the desire or even the inclination to be more civil. It was simply not in his nature.

"What is it, Paul?"

"No one's heard from Michael or Nikita. We don't even know who took Nikita. This situation's going from bad to worse."

"Now, Paul, let's take a moment to regroup and calm down." She smiled pleasantly. Lately it seemed her job often consisted of calming down Operations. A frustrating job at that.

"Are we placing Michael on mandatory refusal then?"

Birkoff's innocent question seemed to spark a debate between Madeline and Operations. Birkoff rolled his eyes. Sheesh, a person couldn't even ask a question anymore.

Michael tramped wearily up the stairs to Nikita's apartment. It was the last place he had to look. He had already been to the loft several times throughout a very long, very trying day. He pushed his hair off his forehead, feeling the beginning of a very bad headache beginning there. Come to think of it, he had not eaten since…he couldn't actually remember. He looked at his watch as he stood outside Nikita's apartment door. It had been more than seven hours since she had disappeared, seemingly into thin air.

He didn't even bother to knock. He picked the lock quickly and let himself in. He didn't care if Nikita wasn't here. He was going to stop looking for a few moments and take a break. He needed a shower. He needed to…be surrounded by her things, as if she were still here. He shrugged out of his mission jacket and let it fall to the floor. He trailed clothing all the way to the shower, too tired to even pick anything up. He turned on the hot water, then adjusted the temperature carefully. When he had the temperature right, he stood naked under the spray, letting it wet his hair, then his face.

Suddenly he leaned forward, arms extended, almost hitting his head on the wall. He turned around, pressing his back to the wall, letting the water flow over his face. That way, when he began to cry, even he couldn't see the tears.

He grabbed a towel and flung it around his body, more carelessly than anything else. He needed coffee. Lots of coffee. He had to find Nikita. He just had to. Suddenly realizing that Nikita's apartment was still under surveillance, he looked up at the cameras. Shouting at the unseen observers, Michael lost what little control he had left. "I've put myself on mandatory refusal! I'm not coming in until I find Nikita!"

His cell phone suddenly rang. "Yes?" he said tentatively.

"Michael, get your butt back here right now or you will be on mandatory refusal!" said Madeline, trying to warn him that Operations was in a desperate frame of mind.

He shook his head. "No, Madeline, not even for you. I can't find Nikita!"

"What if you can't?" she asked him, bleakly.

"Then I'm never coming back," he whispered hoarsely.

He sat down on Nikita's bed. Closing his eyes, he couldn't help himself. He pulled the sheets up, wrapping them around his face, trying to inhale her scent. Michael lay down carefully, not intending to sleep at all. But exhaustion and emotional overload were taking their toll on him. Soon enough he fell asleep and he dreamed…

Nikita was standing over Michael, watching him sleep. She had finally tired of their little game of cat and mouse all over the city. She had finally tired, period. She was exhausted from everything that had happened since their return to Section. She pulled off her clothes and padded softly into the bathroom to take a shower. When she was done, she silently climbed into bed beside Michael, taking great care not to wake him. She was still upset by the issues that Jurgen had raised, she couldn't say she wasn't. But she had been miserable without Michael. She needed to give him a chance to explain. For her own peace of mind. And maybe for his as well, judging from the look of him. He looked pale and unshaven.

She wrapped her arms around him and snuggled against his chest. Moments later, she too was fast asleep. And dreaming…

Jurgen was saying something, but his mouth was moving in slow motion. The words were coming out all distorted, like they were physically being stopped by something in the air. His face blurred and then turned into Michael's. She still couldn't understand the words, but she was holding her ears, holding her head, and bending over, as if someone had punched her in the stomach. She woke up, panting, her hands touching her abdomen protectively.

Michael stirred next to her, and she glanced at him. His eyes opened a tiny bit, then abruptly widened. "Kita!" he shouted hoarsely. Then he frowned. "You're not really here…are you?"

Nikita poked him in the shoulder sharply with her finger. "Actually, I am."

She was unprepared for the way he grabbed her and clung to her. His embrace was almost, but not quite, violent. His hands moved convulsively across her back, as if he were trying to absorb her into himself. He lay his head on her shoulder and closed his eyes, trying not to overreact. But the exhaustion and his own overwrought emotional state made it impossible. He held her, rocking her back and forth in his arms. "Kita, Kita…you made me promise never to leave you, but you left me…all alone with no hope of ever finding you or getting you back…"

She did allow herself to react then. "You're right. I shouldn't have done that." She looked embarrassed. "I demanded certain things from you, maybe things that are beyond your power to give…I shouldn't have done that either."

"Kita, I don't know what to say to you. I love you, more than my own life. I don't know how I can prove that to you." He moved to kiss her, but she drew away, turning her head.

"I need you to explain to me about the deep cover mission. I need to know what you knew. And I need to know how much of it was your doing, and not Section's." She spoke softly, but with great pain.

"Or what? You'll take yourself away again? Hold yourself hostage? Hold our child hostage? This is emotional blackmail, Nikita." Michael suddenly looked angry, instead of sad.

"Maybe it is," she agreed. "But I need to know."

He got out of bed and walked to the door, picking up his clothing, piece by piece. Nikita sighed. He was shutting down now. She had pushed him too hard, and now he was closing himself off from her. Maybe he had to. It was hard for him to deal with emotion on a good day, and this had definitely not been a good day.

When he reappeared in the doorway, he was completely dressed. He looked at her impassively. "I just wanted you to know I was leaving. Unlike you, I didn't want to cause you needless worry." His tone was flat, but she thought she could detect an underlying bitterness.

"I'll notify Section that you're back." He turned away, then swung back, suddenly. "Oh, and one more thing. I put myself in mandatory refusal for you. I don't believe I've ever done that for anyone else. Including myself. Think about it."

She looked down at the covers. He left. Nikita lay back amongst the covers and moaned. How had things gone so wrong after being so right?

Michael walked into Section as if nothing had happened. Operations glared at him. "In my office, Michael." Michael merely nodded.

Moments later, Michael was standing in Operations' office, waiting for the inevitable backlash from his actions. "What did you think you were doing? What are you now, a cowboy? Riding off vigilante-style to save the day, all by your lonesome? This is a team effort, Michael, and you're team leader, but that doesn't mean that you simply disregard protocol and ride off into the sunset."

Operations seemed to waiting for some kind of an answer. Michael finally said, "I realize that. It won't happen again."

Operations smiled sardonically. "Damned right it won't happen again. I won't let it. Do you need some kind of punishment to remind you of why it can't happen again, Michael? Or are we crystal clear on this point now?"

"We're clear," Michael said without a trace of emotion.

"Now," Operations said, "I realize that Nikita is your wife now, and that changes certain things…"

"Not as much as you'd think." Michael cursed himself for speaking.

"There's a cryptic statement I'd like explained, if you don't mind."

"Jurgen isn't dead. He kidnapped Nikita." Michael spoke as if this had happened to someone completely unrelated to him. Operations was no psychologist, but he was a trifle perturbed by Michael's total lack of reaction. Michael had been evolving into someone else, since he had met Nikita, and while Operations couldn't say he liked all of the changes, he had to admit that they worked extremely well with one another, and if there was one thing he admired, it was effective teamwork.

"But you said on the phone that Nikita is safe."

"Yes," he said, looking away from Operations and out the Observation Deck window. "She's safe now."

"He didn't hurt her?"

"He—" Michael stopped, as if thinking.

"Don't bother telling me a lie, Michael. It looks like it's beyond your capabilities at the moment anyway."

"He was trying to physically abuse her when I got there. He shot me, but it was a graze. Nothing significant."

Operations studied Michael's face, which remained inscrutable. "You took him out?"

Michael's eyes flickered for a moment. "No," he admitted in a barely audible voice. "I let him go."

"May I ask why?" Operations asked sarcastically.

"I just wanted to get Nikita out of there safely. It wasn't necessary."

Operations circled Michael, like a predator searching for weakness in his prey. "Then how is it that Nikita was missing for several hours after that?"

"It was—-it was unrelated to the kidnapping."

Operations raised an eyebrow. "Let me get this straight. Your new wife just took off without explanation after she was rescued."

"Something like that." Michael didn't know how much more of this he could stand without striking something. Or someone.

"Did you two fight about something?"

Michael glared finally at Operations. "It was personal, okay?"

Operations looked satisfied. "It's not personal when I have teams searching for my two best ops, and no one can find them for hours."

Operations sighed. "All right, Michael, I'll give you this one. But don't ever let this happen again. I mean that."

Michael returned to his blank stare. "I know you do."

Michael turned to leave, but Operations called him back once more. "Oh, and Michael…don't forget that Jurgen is still out there. Whatever reason you didn't cancel him the first time, it no longer applies. If you see him, shoot him. Got that?" Michael nodded.

Michael struggled to work through a pile of paperwork, but his fingers refused to type coherent messages. He stared bleary-eyed at the laptop. God, he couldn't believe what an utter mess his life had become. His romantic idyll with Nikita in Bermuda was but a distant memory now. He ran his hands over his face, rubbing his eyes unconsciously. What was he going to do now?

He left the office around midday, to speak to Birkoff about the upcoming mission profile, and he was stunned to see Nikita sitting there, next to Birkoff, at his workstation. He hid his surprise well, though, and Nikita was unaware of his reaction to her presence. She continued to speak to Birkoff, as if Michael weren't there, and Birkoff looked from one to the other.

"Um, is something wrong, guys?"

Nikita ignored Birkoff. Michael's mouth tightened, but he didn't say a word. Now Birkoff was certain that something big had happened between them, but he didn't know what it was. And he thought it would be hazardous to his health to ask.

"Nikita," Michael said abruptly. "In my office."

When they were both inside Michael's office, he locked the door. Suddenly he hissed at Nikita, "What do you want from me, Nikita? You want me to tell you I love you more than I loved Elena? I already told you that. You want me to tell you I love you more than I love my son? I can't tell you that."

Nikita's eyes blazed into anger. "I want you to tell me the truth about everything that happened during that mission."

"You don't want much, do you?" He raked his hands through his hair. "For Elena, the marriage was real. For me, it was a mission. Section told me to marry her, to get to her terrorist father. So I did."

Nikita looked sullen. Her eyes lost their clarity, and her animation dimmed. "And?"

"I've been with other women before, Nikita, on missions. You've never interrogated me about them before."

"You didn't live with any of them for five years, Michael! You didn't father a child with them!"

Michael grabbed her and shook her. "Keep your voice down, Nikita!"

Suddenly she looked truly aghast. "Oh, my God!"

"What, Nikita? What is it?" He was worried, for she had gone positively white. "Is it the baby? Talk to me!"

"All this time…I've been wondering and worrying about your ties to Elena and Adam…and I never thought…"

"Thought what, Nikita?" Michael looked like he was at the end of his rope.

"That you would do the same thing to me…" she finished in a whisper, fraught with deep sorrow.

She started to walk away, but Michael caught her. "What do you mean?" he asked, honestly not understanding.

"It's why Operations and Madeline weren't that upset that we got married. You were told to marry me, Michael, weren't you? This is all part of some greater plan!"

"Kita, no! How could you think I would do that to you, to us?" Michael stared at Nikita, unbelieving that things could have turned even worse.

"Jurgen was right. It's all been a lie, from the very beginning. And even now…" She looked stricken. She closed her eyes suddenly, bending over as a cramp caught her by surprise. "No!!!" she cried in pain.

"Kita!!" Michael steered her into a chair and forced her to sit. She clearly didn't want his hands on her, but he was too upset to allow her to have her way. "Stay put a second."

He called for help from Medlab. Nikita looked frightened. "Michael, you can't," she said as a fresh wave of pain hit her. "They'll know, they'll take my baby away."

He knelt in front of her and touched her face gently. "It's our baby, Kita, and I won't let them take it away. I swear."

She grabbed onto his hand. "Michael, if anything happens to me…"

He cried out, "Nothing is going to happen to you, Nikita! Don't even think that!"

Medlab personnel arrived, and they took Nikita upstairs. Michael sat back down at his desk, now overwhelmed by worry. He should have gone up with her, but he couldn't trust himself not to fall apart right now. He needed a moment to resume masking his feelings. They were dangerously close to the surface right now, and he didn't know if he could hold them in check much longer.