Jurgen wasn't a stupid man, but he was driven over the edge by his need for revenge. He knew he was in enemy territory, treading on dangerous ground indeed, since Nikita's apartment was under Section surveillance. He should have followed his instincts and grabbed her at Michael's loft. It was perfect. As a Level 5 operative, Michael's loft was not under Section surveillance. But Nikita was wary, and she had slipped through his fingers before he could close his trap.

Nikita shifted in her sleep, brushing against Michael's side. He woke briefly, and he was about to go back to sleep when he heard it. A noise he couldn't account for. He was instantly awake. He rolled over in bed, tapping Nikita on the shoulder. Her eyes opened, and Michael put a finger to his lips, indicating that she should be silent. She nodded.

He rolled the other way, out of bed and onto the floor, and felt a serious twinge from his chest. Wincing, he managed to get to his pants and his gun. He pulled his pants on slowly, then drew his gun in the darkness. He felt his way along the wall until he could see the living room.

He pointed the gun into the living room, edging behind it until he had a better view. That was when he saw Jurgen. He exhaled carefully, feeling his rage rekindle at the thought of what had almost happened to him and Nikita. Jurgen turned and saw Michael. Jurgen's own gun was drawn and he smiled. "Drop it, Michael. You won't shoot me. You proved that yesterday."

Michael's eyes glittered. "You'll have to update my profile." He shot Jurgen twice, hitting him in the chest and abdomen. Jurgen hit the floor with a thud, disbelieving. He gurgled as blood spilled from his mouth. Michael turned his head away, finding Jurgen distasteful even in death.

When the noise stopped, Michael edged forward, not quite trusting that Jurgen would go that easily. He kicked his body with one foot, testing to see if Jurgen still lived. No response. Michael lowered his gun slowly, in case there was someone else he could not see. No, he said, after searching the apartment, Jurgen had come alone.

Michael walked back into the bedroom and gestured to Nikita to get dressed. "You can't stay here. I killed Jurgen, his body's in the living room. I'll call Section and have him taken care of."

Nikita pulled the covers off the bed and around her body. With Michael in operative mode, she felt vulnerable without being dressed. He reached out a hand to help her up, and pulled her against him. He kissed her, his mouth softening when it touched hers. "Hey, you okay?" he asked, gently pushing her hair back. She nodded.

He turned away to put the gun down, and Nikita saw Jurgen coming through the doorway, gun aimed at Michael. She whirled as if in slow-motion. God, it was her dream, her nightmare come to life. She pushed Michael away, grabbing her own gun from the floor and shooting Jurgen in the head. Michael gasped. Jurgen hit the floor for the second time. This time he wasn't getting up again.

Michael stared at Nikita, and she stared back, her gun still drawn, her entire body still in position for the shot. She glanced down, noting that the covers had fallen away, exposing her entire body. She bent over and grabbed them to cover herself, but Michael stayed her hand. "You saved my life."

She shrugged. "You saved mine first."

He smiled suddenly. "We're even. Finally."

"Does that mean I can never do this again?"

"Hell, no. I hope it never happens again, but if it does, I definitely want you watching my back, Kita." He surveyed her with loving admiration.

She put her gun down on the bed. "Well, I'm glad you've always watched mine, Michael."

He smiled again. "Now it would be a good idea to get dressed, Kita. Section will undoubtedly waste no time in getting here, and I don't want to step around Jurgen's body anymore."

She picked up the sheets from the floor and let them flutter down, covering Jurgen's body. "I don't think I want them back." They dressed hurriedly, just managing to meet Section's housekeeping team at the door. After pointing the way to the living room, they exited the apartment. Nikita took a deep breath of fresh air. It was cold, but not unusually so. "So where to?"

"We seem to be without a place to live at the moment. I have such bad memories of the loft, I don't want to go back there, and I know we don't want to return to that apartment. Frankly, I don't know what we're going to do, Kita."

"It's an interesting feeling, isn't it, Michael? Freedom?" She grinned at him. He looked surprised. "Is that what this is, freedom?"

"Well, until we find a new place, Section can only reach us at work. To me, that's freedom."

He raised an eyebrow. "I hadn't thought of it that way."

Michael put his arm around Nikita, and from a distance, they looked like any married couple, out for a walk on a Sunday morning. "How are you feeling?"

Nikita blushed. "Like a woman who needs her husband in the worst way."

"Did I mention that I like the effect that pregnancy is having on you?" He leaned forward, his forehead touching hers. She avoided the bump on his forehead, then rubbed it carefully with her fingers. "Unfortunately, the doctor said no lovemaking for at least a month."

Michael's eyes darkened to black. He kissed her ear and whispered, "Did he say lovemaking or did he say intercourse?"

She blushed again. "Well, you know…"

"There are other ways to make love, Kita, let me show you the benefits of my expertise…" He kissed her cheek gently. He drew her close and they walked on a few steps. "At last, a reason to be glad for being a Valentine Op at the beginning of my career," he said smugly.

She punctured his smugness with one light punch to his side. "You'll have to debrief completely, you know that. I want to know everything you know."

He looked askance. "You'll use it against me."

She smiled wickedly. "Oh, I hope so, Michael, I hope so."

Five months later, Nikita gave birth to a six pound, 5 ounce baby girl. They named her Nicole. She had Nikita's fair hair, but Michael's changeable eyes. Operations had apoplexy at last. He was even heard to exclaim, "Not another Nikita!" before they wheeled him into Medlab. Madeline was overjoyed, and she took over Operations' job at George's request. Nikita was promoted again, becoming a Level 4 operative. Walter became Nicole's godfather, and Birkoff her babysitter whenever the need arose. And as for Michael, he was a happy man. If he had only been lucky enough to have Nikita, he would have been satisfied. But now he had Nikita, his daughter, and loving friends like Madeline, Walter and Birkoff. Life was no longer a tragedy for the man in black.