He was looking forward to taking a nice, hot bath, to stretch out his aching muscles. After that, he thought, some hot chocolate and sleep. In that order. He took off his shirt and that, too, ended up on the bed.

With an expansive yawn, Michael slipped off his shoes and padded into the bathroom in his sock feet. Splashing cold water on his face, he looked into the mirror. He was starting to show the deep inner fatigue he was feeling. It was more than physical, it was taking an emotional toll as well. He missed Nikita.

Her sunny smile brightened his days and made his nights bearable. When TPTB sent them off in two different directions, seemingly on purpose, to keep them apart, Michael had to wonder how he survived.

He wondered, in fact, what she was doing right now. Where was she? Was she happy? Unhappy? Missing him? Did he dare hope she might miss him half as much as he missed her?

As a matter of fact, she was cursing six ways to Sunday and back when she finally entered her apartment. TPTB had been making her life even more miserable than usual by separating her and Michael at every possible juncture. It wasn't as if she had a life…or friends…or pets…nah, she couldn't count Mick Shtoppel, even if he did fit the latter description.

Her cell phone rang. "Josephine…"

Nikita sighed in exasperation. "Now?"

"Now."

When Nikita arrived at Section, the place was deserted. Everyone, including Madeline, Operations, and Birkoff, had retired for the night. There was no one around. It made her nervous. You could hear every single snap, crackle, pop.

Nikita rounded the corner near Michael's office and ran straight into him. He grabbed her by the shoulders and held her for a second, making certain that she wasn't going to fall. He released her slowly, as if he wanted to keep touching her, but refused to give in to that impulse. There were always eyes watching in Section, even when it seemed as if all the eyes were closed for the night.

"You called me in?"

He nodded. "I was told to."

She frowned. "By who?"

"Madeline."

"How nice of her to call us in, while she's still at home, asleep in her bed," Nikita said sarcastically, exhaustion etched into her face. She still looked beautiful to him. Michael blinked slowly, studying her from beneath luxuriant dark brown lashes that covered his vivid green eyes.

"You're tired." It was a statement, not a question.

"God, yes."

"So am I," Michael admitted.

"I just wanted a quick shower and sleep, that's all. Is that too much to ask?"

Michael smiled at the way her mind worked. "That's what I was thinking myself. I wanted a nice, hot bath, some hot chocolate, and then to bed."

He coaxed the hair that fell into her face back behind her right ear. "Pretty girl," he said softly.

She looked away for a second, coloring furiously. "Stop that…" she said, not meaning it.

"It's all they'll let us have."

"Are you saying we have to be even more careful than we've been?"

Michael gave her an enigmatic smile. "If it was up to me, Kita, we would openly defy Section and let the chips fall where they may. I want to be with you."

"And I want to be with you." Nikita dropped her eyes to the floor. As tired as she was, just being this close to Michael made her intensely aware of him.

"But it's not up to me," he finished in a harsh whisper. "Ever since Operations came back…" He looked beyond Nikita suddenly, never getting the chance to finish his sentence.

Nikita turned to see what Michael saw, and she wished she hadn't. "Speak of the devil…" she muttered under her breath.

Operations all but rubbed his hands together gleefully when he saw the two of them standing there, like children who weren't allowed to play together anymore. "I see Madeline gave you both the message."

Michael nodded as sharply as he could without being outright insubordinate. Nikita snorted in a most unladylike manner, but when Michael glanced at her with a raised eyebrow, she smiled and cleared her throat, as if she felt a cold coming on.

"Here is what I would like to see happen. You will both go back to Paris tonight, where you will meet with Oversight. It seems they're extremely impressed with you, Michael, and they want to know more."

"What's Nikita's role in this?"

Operations' eyes grew frosty as he drew closer to Michael. "It seems that Oversight was rather impressed with Nikita as well."

"Enough to let me have a bath before I go?" Nikita said waspishly, knowing she was just tired enough not to care about being canceled at the moment.

Operations stared at her as if he were deciding what to do with her. "I could put you into abeyance, Nikita, like that…" He snapped his fingers loudly.

She stared right back, sleep deprivation making her incautious. "If I could get a bath, it might be worth it—"

"What is this sudden obsession with cleanliness, Nikita?" Operations glared at Nikita, the urge to snap more than his fingers intense.

"I haven't had a bath in three days! I haven't slept in five!"

He ignored Nikita's outburst as if it had never occurred. "Michael, this is what you will tell George when you get there. You will tell him that your ambitions have changed, that you no longer desire to be the next head of Section One, and that you don't remember any new and interesting details about how Adrian died."

"Why on Earth would I do that?" Michael asked, giving Operations a crooked half-smile.

"Because if you don't…I will take away your Level 5 status and bust you down to recruit. For a man with your ambitions, that would seem to be an effective threat." Operations smiled sardonically, obviously rather pleased to be able to impart this news.

Michael grinned, and the effect was wildly inappropriate. Even frightening. "If I were a man with your ambitions, you'd be right…" Michael paused, as if to let this sink in.

"But I don't share your ambitions, Operations."

"That's what you think, Michael." Operations was so sure he was right, he never saw it coming.

Michael stared at Operations quite blankly. "I'm not you, Paul. I don't want to be you. I'll never be you."

"You're wrong, Michael."

Michael took Nikita's arm and pulled her close to him. "Right now…all I want is a bath, some hot chocolate, and some sleep. And maybe some company," he added, looking fondly at Nikita.

"You're refusing an order?" Operations' expression was apoplectic.

"If you're going to cancel me, cancel me. Otherwise, get over it." Michael's tone left no doubt that he meant exactly what he said.

Operations grinned at the two of them. "I must say, I never thought it would come to this. You'd actually trade your life for what? A night, maybe two?" He ogled Nikita in a frankly disturbing way. "You must be good," he said to Nikita.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she drawled, figuring if she had to go down, she would go down fighting.

Nikita woke up, mumbling, "Bath, gotta have a bath." She flung her head to the side, outstretching one arm dangerously close to the edge of the bed, suddenly screaming when she connected with something solid. She sat bolt upright in bed, her breath coming in spurts and gasps. She turned her head slowly, ever so slowly, then jumped when she saw the man beside her.

"Are you still having those dreams, Kita? The ones where Operations won't let you have a bath?" Michael said with more than a trace of amusement.

She nodded. "They're so real, Michael. Especially the part where he wants to send us to Oversight."

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the back of her neck. "That's because we really did go to Oversight. Only we told George the truth about Adrian, and Operations was put in abeyance. He'd still be there if we didn't take pity on him."

"I still think you went too easy on him, Michael. Or should I call you Operations?" Her mouth curved upwards in a delicious, cat-that-caught-the-canary smile.

He stroked the side of her face gently with his fingers, savoring the feel of her silky skin against his roughened fingertips. "You can call me anything you like, Kita." He kissed her, swallowing her gasp of excitement as her mouth opened under his.

"You think he likes his new job? It kinda gives a whole new meaning to Housekeeping." Nikita grinned against his mouth.

"Shall we have him run a bubble bath for us, Kita?"

She sighed. "I dunno. I was thinking of having Madeline do my nails. What do you think?" She splayed her hands for Michael to examine, but he devoured her fingertips with a ferocious growl, low in his throat.

"I think we both need some more time in the tub, Kita."

Michael lay back against the wall of the old-fashioned porcelain tub, its clawed feet still elegant despite its age. The water was tepid now, but neither he nor Nikita cared. She lay in his arms, her back against his chest, and he idly played with the wet tendrils of her pale blonde hair. "We didn't have enough bubbles this time, Michael…"

He smiled sleepily. "I'll speak to Paul about it tomorrow, Kita."

"You do that, Michael." She turned in his arms, causing the water to slosh over the edges of the tub in an alarming fashion.

She reached for him, and they kissed, their fingers intertwining as they strained to get closer. She licked the side of his neck slowly, and he closed his eyes briefly. "You know how Paul hates it when you splash, Kita…"

"Must be why I do it, then." She kissed his ear, her tongue swirling enticingly around the outer lobe until he pulled away, laughing. "That tickles."

"I know," she said, pressing herself against his chest. He rubbed his hands up and down her back as they traded warm, wet, open-mouthed kisses until they were both weak.

He pulled back, his normally cool green gaze resting warmly on her face. "I still like hot chocolate before I go to bed."

She closed her eyes and slyly licked the palm of his hand before he caressed her cheek with it. "Mmm…I love…hot chocolate."

He smiled knowingly at Nikita. "Like the kind we had in Paris?"

Nikita kissed him tenderly, her lips lingering on his as if reluctant to take their leave. "It was nice of George to give us a honeymoon."

"I'm still not sure if that was a reward for telling the truth about Adrian or his way of keeping us in line." Michael frowned.

"Does it matter?" Nikita asked. "We got to be together…"

He nodded happily. "I love you, Kita."

"I love you, Michael."

End