Michael knew Oversight would be watching. He hugged the knowledge of his child growing inside Nikita to his heart where no one but him could see it. He could not risk giving anything away at this point. It was imperative that George and Madeline think everything was as it was. Status unchanged.

In truth, it was not hard to act despondent. Michael still didn't have Nikita. Even though he now knew the source of her defiant "I don't love you anymore", the words themselves reverberated inside him, causing him untold heartache.

He knew that Nikita was working for George. But was she willing or unwilling? Had her cooperation been coerced? To him, the answer was obvious. With stunning clarity, he suddenly remembered that fragile, almost frightened touch of her fingertips against his hand.

She still loved him.

Armed with little more than resolve to take control of the situation, Michael went to Nikita's apartment, thumping loudly on her door.

When she didn't immediately answer, he glanced both ways, ascertaining that the hallway was indeed empty. Letting himself in with his key, he stopped just inside the door and froze.

Was that Nikita lying there on the floor? A thousand chaotic thoughts flew through his mind at that moment, none of them positive.

She turned as his footsteps came closer. Wiping furiously at her cheeks, she realized the damage was probably already done. He would know she'd been crying. But he wouldn't know why…

She sat up, but before she could say a word, Michael stormed into Nikita's bedroom, picking up an armful of clothing. When he returned, he threw the bundle of clothes at Nikita. "Get dressed! I need you at Section now!" he commanded tersely.

She stared at him, her eyes wide. If she didn't know better, she would swear that Michael was angry. "What's going on?"

He warned her with a single green-eyed glance. She dumbly obeyed, pulling on the clothing he provided.

Michael couldn't tell Nikita what he knew. He was certain they were being watched.

When she was dressed, Nikita looked inquiringly at Michael for enlightenment. It never even occurred to her that her secret was out. Michael didn't act like he knew about the baby. Or why she'd lied to him about not loving him.

Suddenly, without any warning at all, Michael grabbed her and nearly threw her body up against the wall of the apartment. Giving her a punishing kiss, he ground his mouth against hers, his embrace all but bruising her arms. When he finally broke off the kiss, he was breathing hard, almost out of breath. Wild-eyed, he looked at her with such intensity, he dared her to question his actions.

What he could not say aloud was in his eyes.

What she could not ask was in hers.

Once they were at Section One, Michael all but dragged Nikita up to the observation deck. There, in front of everyone who was still awake at that hour, he initiated what became the most vocal argument anyone in Section One ever had the misfortune to witness.

Michael never gestured. For someone who liked to touch the woman he loved as much as he did, it was surprising that Michael did not use his hands more when he spoke. But he was definitely gesturing now.

"What are you doing, Michael?" Nikita hissed between her teeth.

He closed the gap between their bodies in a second, acting very much now like a man driven beyond his emotional endurance. "How can you tell me you don't feel anything when I do this?"

He suddenly nipped her ear with his teeth, whispering to her, "Just follow me. Please."

Her eyes opened even wider, the difference imperceptible to anyone but a trained observer like Michael.

"I-I don't," she stammered.

"Or this?" He smoothly caressed the length of her neck with his lips, and Nikita sighed. She'd missed him so much.

"It means nothing," she replied, lying through her teeth.

He stared at her. "Nothing? This means nothing??!!"

"You're lying!" he shouted, abruptly kissing her. His mouth touched hers, and she closed her eyes, automatically opening her mouth under his.

"Liar," he whispered against her mouth.

At the first touch of her mouth on his, he almost lost his way. That had never happened to him before. But then, nothing had ever been this important before. Everything was at stake. Their lives. Their future. Their baby.

He drew back, eyes glittering dangerously. "Perhaps you need to learn the consequences of not telling me the truth."

"You can't have me, Michael. Get over it."

He raised an eyebrow.

George watched the exchange between the two top operatives with genuine amusement. It so patently illustrated what he'd told Madeline. Nikita was Michael's weakness. It was a pity to lose either one of them, but that was just the way things were. George was feeling particularly philosophical at the moment.

Distracted by the byplay, George never noticed that his office at Oversight had been infiltrated by Section One operatives. Under Michael's command. Upon Michael's order, they surrounded George and Madeline, who were conveniently celebrating before the game was over.

Michael strode into the room, accompanied by Nikita. George looked at the screen, then back at Michael and Nikita. "But you're still at Section One!"

Nikita laughed softly. "One of the wonders of technology."

George's expression turned glacial, his eyes like twin shards of ice. "You'll never get away with this."

Michael turned to his operatives and said, "If he says he has friends in high places…shoot him."

He turned back, this time to face Madeline. "You don't look nearly as cheerful as you did a moment ago, Madeline. Something go wrong with your plan?"

Madeline spat at Michael, "You and Nikita may think you've won, but—"

Michael turned to Nikita. "She never did learn to accept defeat gracefully. What should we do with her this time, Kita?"

Nikita looked decidedly uncomfortable. She still opposed having Madeline canceled. But she had seen firsthand what the woman was capable of.

"Perhaps this will help you decide, Kita." Michael produced a copy of the surveillance tape and placed it in a cassette player. Nikita listened intently as George and Madeline casually discussed killing her unborn child. She felt sick.

Madeline could see the moment Nikita absorbed the contents of the tape. Her eyes looked haunted, but she held her head up. "Michael…"

"Yes, Kita?"

"Do whatever you have to do."

It was a death sentence for both of them. And they both knew it.

Michael met Nikita in the Glass Office. For several moments, they merely stood there, several feet apart, looking at one another.

Nikita spoke first. "You knew about the baby?"

Michael looked away and grabbed the remote, clicking it once to blacken the walls of the observation deck. "Not till I heard the surveillance tape."

She moved a step closer to him. "Was that before you came to my apartment?"

He nodded.

She pondered.

Michael searched her face for something, anything that could be construed as a sign that she welcomed his love again. "Kita? I want us to be together."

"I know." She closed her eyes, unable to think past the present.

"I mean, together, as in a family. I want to marry you."

She raised her eyes to his, their brilliance matched only by sapphires in the natural world. "You only want me because of the baby."

He stepped even closer to her, his arms encircling her waist. "No," he said, just as tersely as when he'd commanded her to get dressed and leave her apartment. "I've always wanted you."

She wanted to believe him, but tears fell like bitter rain from her eyes. "I want to believe…"

He picked up her hand and kissed it gently. Looking directly into her eyes, his own green eyes fairly danced. "You want proof."

She nodded.

He produced a ring from his jacket pocket. "I've been carrying this around for over a week."

He slid the sapphire onto her ring finger on her left hand, then kissed both her finger and the ring. She stared at the ring he'd placed there. Tangible proof of their love.

She smiled enigmatically. "I have proof, too."

He looked puzzled until she took his hand and placed it on her abdomen. His face cleared instantly. "You were willing to risk everything."

"So were you."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, and they moved towards each other almost at the same time, their lips meeting in a rapid succession of kisses that eventually blurred together.

Suddenly they both heard a noise that sounded like cheering. They looked at the observation window, and miraculously, it became transparent again. Birkoff spoke via the intercom. "Hey, if I can hack into Oversight's computers, past firewalls designed by our friend Greg, what's a mere remote control?"

That's when they noticed the crowd that had gathered below them. Hundreds of cheering operatives, some crying, some saluting, every one of them relieved that the change in power would be permanent.

"I love you, Michael."

"I love you, Kita."

The crowd cheered.

End