Nikita was being hidden behind the best of Section's firewalls. The only way that Michael would ever find her was if Section wanted him to. For a brief moment, Michael suffered a pang of regret at Birkoff's passing. If the young Comm op were still alive, he would gladly risk anything to save Nikita. He…*loved*…her. In fact, in the end, it became more than apparent that Birkoff loved *all* of them. Including Michael.

That gave him pause. What was there, even deep inside him, left for anyone to love? His steps slowed, his gun hand dropped slightly. Losing oneself to preoccupation during a mission could get someone killed. Maybe…maybe it was time to let Nikita go. Maybe…she would have a better life without him.

Suddenly uncharacteristically hesitant, Michael stopped. Jim glanced at him quickly, sensing somehow that Michael would not tolerate being touched. Trading a sympathetic look with his Guide, Jim inclined his head towards Michael. Blair raised an expressive eyebrow, as if to say, "Who, me?"

Blair cleared his throat, and Michael looked up. Without his carefully-constructed mask, Michael looked years younger. Softer. More vulnerable. Lost. "I'm sorry. I had no right," he uttered in his terse, sibilant whisper.

"Hey, man. It's not like you kidnapped us, y'know."

Michael's now-grey eyes shifted away almost anxiously. "If I had to…I think I would have."

Blair nodded cheerfully. "Of course you would. You're just doing what you've gotta do, man."

Michael shook his head as if to clear it, a frown marring his handsome features. "You believe that?"

For a long moment, Blair held Michael's intent gaze, something intangible passing between them. "I understand desperation, man."

When Blair did look away finally, it was to re-connect with Jim. His voice husky with emotion, Blair never took his eyes off Jim's face as he continued to speak, the line between friends and lovers blurring until it was barely visible at all. "I understand what it feels like to know that you can't live one more day without him being the first thing you see when you wake up, or the last thing you see when you go to sleep, and the only thing that matters during all the hours in between."

That was more than a declaration of love. It was the fucking Pledge of Allegiance to the city, state, and country that was Jim Ellison.

Jim's lips parted imperceptibly, but he couldn't find a single thing to say that could come close to the eloquence of Blair Sandburg. But damned if he didn't feel as though they had passed over some important threshold. Merely staying alive had lost its appeal. He was going to save himself for something better. The tiniest of smiles quirking his sensual mouth, Jim said, "Come home with me, Chief." Marry me. Live with me for the rest of my sorry days and make me regret nothing.

Blair reached up and kissed the corner of his lover's mouth almost chastely. "Can I stay with you?"

"Forever," Jim answered, his thumb stroking the side of the younger man's face.

Some people were meant to be together. No matter what. He should have felt like the intruder he was. Instead he learned the lesson Blair meant to teach him. Michael took a deep breath, gradually seizing control of his mind and spirit. How could he have contemplated giving up so easily?

Nikita was out there. Somewhere. She needed him.

They would be together again. He would find a way.

"I won't let them do this."

In the end, it turned out to be surprisingly easy to find Nikita. Michael's renewed determination coupled with Jim's hyperactive senses made short work of locating her behind Section's carefully-erected firewalls. Added to this was the fact that Birkoff, even in death, continued to protect the people he had come to know as family.

In an effort to safeguard himself and the others he cared about, Birkoff made Section vulnerable by creating a backdoor only he could access. With Birkoff dead, the task of finding the chink in Section's armor became more difficult, but not impossible.

It was raining steadily. Paris in the rain could have been beautiful in the eyes of the right beholder. But Michael's group trudged wearily through the streets of a rather bad neighborhood, searching for the substation that would gain them entry into Section.

Blair pulled his sodden curls away from his face, knowing that it was futile to wish that they could find someplace dry to hole up temporarily. Time was once again of the essence. He could feel Michael's urgency. What's more, he understood it. In a way he never thought he could.

Suddenly a voice hissed, "Viens ici!"

Jim and Blair turned as one in the direction of the sound, audible even to Blair's non-Sentinel ears. "What the—?"

"Get down!" Michael shouted.

Jim and Blair hit the wet pavement with a thud, echoed moments later by a much louder noise. Explosion. Jim pressed both hands to his ears, squeezing his eyes shut with the effort of keeping the sound to a tolerable level.

"Dial it down, Jim. Just listen to my voice." Despite the clamor that surrounded them, Jim found his focus in Blair's fierce whisper. There. The pain was easing up. He blinked a few times, then opened his eyes.

"Blair?"

"I'm here, Jim," Blair answered, rubbing one of Jim's wrists with his fingers.

"It's *not* just the Guide voice," Jim said incredulously.

"Huh? You lost me, Jim."

"I thought that I always came back because you used that voice, because you were the Guide. But that's *not* all there is to it."

"It's not?"

"No…it's like you're the only one who cares."

Blair shook his head, the effect rather comical, like a wet dog shaking himself dry. "Other people care about you, Jim. Simon, Joel, Conner…"

"Not like you do, Chief. You care more about me than about *yourself*."

Blair dipped his head to hide the furious color that suddenly stained his cheeks. "Yeah, well, I'm in love with you."

"If we get ever get out of here, I'm going to make you prove it to me."

"When."

"When what?"

"*When* we get out of here, Jim. We *will* be together."

Jim found his new lover's mouth, sealing the promise with a kiss. "From your mouth to God's ear, Chief."

Recovery was quick and uneventful. Michael assumed that the voice was part of a trap to bring them closer to the source of the explosion. If they had moved, even a fraction of an inch in its direction, they all might have been killed. Instead, Michael's field experience stood him in good stead.

The rain continued. It was growing dark. Their visibility cut down to almost nothing, Michael was glad that the Sentinel was part of his team. With Jim's senses, the rain and impending darkness were not deterrents to their search.

Suddenly Jim stopped dead in his tracks, nostrils flaring. "Jim, what is it? Are you getting something?"

Jim held out a protective arm across Blair's chest. "Ssh…there's someone here."

"But no one knows we're coming."

"Someone does. That bomb wasn't a random act of violence." Michael's instincts were thrumming wildly. There *was* someone here.

"But even we don't know exactly what we're looking for-" Jim protested.

"I do."

That voice. Out of the gaping hole that was night.

Michael gasped. "You!"

The figure strode out of the darkness like an avenging angel. No, make that like Michael's bright angel.

"Nikita!"

The figure threw back the hood of its jacket to reveal Nikita's pale blonde hair.

"Michael!"

"I thought I might never see you again," he said in a choked voice. The words came hard to him, but they needed to be said. Admitting that he was vulnerable to anything was more than difficult for Michael. It was virtually impossible. But for Nikita…he would risk anything.

"They issued cancellation orders on you, Michael. You can't go back in. Operations wants you dead."

"The feeling's mutual," he snapped bitterly. "How did you get out?"

"I had to warn you. I-I can't stay long, Michael. They'll miss me."

She hung her head in despair, knowing she was voluntarily giving up the man she loved. And for what? For a life lived in constant fear. A living death.

"'Kita, come with me," he entreated. His black leather gloved palm outstretched, he beckoned to her. "Please."

"Michael, please don't make this harder," she responded. He winced at the sound of tears he could not see.

There had to be something that would make the difference. Blair poked Michael in the ribs. "Tell her," he hissed.

For a moment, Michael looked pained, then his face cleared. Suddenly he looked years younger. As if he had given his lifelong burden to someone better able to bear it. "I love you."

She sighed. "I love you, too, Michael. But-"

Michael looked at Blair anxiously. The younger man nodded silently, and Michael turned back to face his soulmate. "You don't understand, 'Kita. I can't live without you."

It was obvious that the words took Nikita by surprise. "Michael-"

Michael drew his gun, clicked off the safety and pointed it at his temple. Nikita gasped in horror. "No!"

"Life without you is worse than no life at all."

"Please, Michael! Don't!" Nikita alone knew what Michael was capable of. Hadn't she been there for him when he lost Simone? Elena? Adam? Her heart wept bitter tears at the thought of Michael preferring death to life without her. How could his protective instincts have gone so astray?

There was only one thing to say. The truth.

"I don't want to go back, Michael. But if I don't, they'll hunt you down and kill you. I couldn't bear to live if I didn't know you were out there, somewhere, finally enjoying the freedom you deserve."

Michael abruptly lowered the gun. "We are halves of one whole, 'Kita. We cannot survive apart. Either of us."

All at once, Jim's Sentinel senses warned him that someone was coming. Probably the same someone who planted the bomb that nearly blew all of them to Kingdom Come. "They're coming. In force. If we don't go now, we're all dead."

Nikita had never seen such an expression on Michael's face. "'Kita, if you won't come, there's no point in my going."

"They'll find us. They'll kill us anyway, Michael."

"Since when did you give up playing the odds, 'Kita?"

Suddenly Nikita smiled. There were worse things to gamble on than your life. As long as they drew breath, they would love one another. That would be enough. It had to be.

She put her hand in Michael's.

As one, they began to run.

Cascade, Washington

One Month Later

Blair took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes absently. Jim would be home soon. They were meeting friends for dinner. They were a couple now. For now, Simon was the only one who knew about the change in their relationship. But eventually, all of the significant people in their lives would know.

They were invited to the wedding.

Blair heard a key in the lock, and shortly after, Jim Ellison, Detective Extraordinaire, stood there, lounging as though he had all the time in the world.

"Jim!"

"Blair!"

Blair wrapped his arms around Jim's neck and kissed him. "I missed you."

"I can tell," Jim said, a smile in his pale blue eyes.

"We got more RSVP's back." God, it was good to hear that enthusiasm back in Blair's husky voice.

"We did, huh? You having second thoughts about marrying a cop, Chief?"

Blair shook his head slowly. "We've got time before we have to meet Michael and Nikita," he said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Jim pretended to be appalled, but in his heart of hearts, he was thrilled. He was so desperate for a taste of his lover, he would do almost anything.

"Do me on the floor, Jim."

"Too hard."

"Do me on the couch, then."

"Too soft."

"Bed?"

"Just right, Chief."

As they walked upstairs, Blair patted Jim's butt, chuckling the entire length of the stairway. "I like the way you rewrote "The Three Bears", Jim."

Jim gave him that amiable grin that drove Blair completely crazy without even touching him. "You're just a slut for the classics, Chief."

"Oh, yeah?" Blair gave Jim his infamous "I'm a wiseass and I know it, but you love me anyway" look. "Here's another classic for you, Jim."

Leaping onto their bed, Blair pulled Jim down to him. Draping himself across his lover's chest, he stared intently into Jim's eyes, not wanting to miss a single flicker or change of expression. "I love you, Jim," he vowed, his face suddenly sober.

Jim kissed him, his hands automatically tangling themselves in Blair's dark curls. "Not half as much as I love you, Blair."

"Promise me forever, Jim."

"I can't promise you that, Chief. But I can promise you all the rest of the days I have left."

"Fair enough."

After they were well-sated, after they took their time in the shower, ostensibly to get clean, and after they collected their housewarming gifts…they finally made it to the restaurant.

"So…you think Michael got a good table?"

Jim did a reasonably good imitation of the blank stare.

"Jeesh. A guy could ask, Jim. Don't do that again, okay?"

They giggled like children all the way to the back of the restaurant, where Michael and Nikita waited.

At Michael's inquiring look, Jim said, "Don't ask."

Once they were seated at the table, Blair eagerly handed their gifts to Nikita. "Oh, Blair, you shouldn't have."

"I wanted to. You know me. Hopeless romantic."

Nikita laughed throatily. "Yeah, well…you must know my husband. He's a twisted romantic."

Michael leaned over and kissed Nikita. Right there in front of Jim and Blair. Right there in the back of the restaurant. Right there in Cascade, Washington.

Where they all lived now.

It was as close to happily ever after as any of them would ever get.