AN: I'll make this into a full story if I get reviews telling me too. If not, then please enjoy this as-is! Thanks everyone who read my first two stories, and I hope you like this one =)
"Michael!" She said to him. But it was too late. A shot rang out, and echoed throughout the alley. In the blink of an eye, everything she stood for, and believed in, had unravelled.
It had been 3 years since Michael had gone rogue. Three years since she had seen his face, or heard his voice. She wondered where he was, and what he was doing. She hoped, in all desperation, that he was still alive. Michael had been her trainer, her mentor, her friend, but now he was gone. Could she really blame him though? Division had killed his fiancée, Danielle. Michael had always warned her not to get too attached to her cover life, and in an ironic twist, did the very thing he had trained her not to do. He paid a heavy price for it, but so did Nikita. Without Michael around, days went by in a blur, all so monotonous and dull; training recruits, going on missions, doing Percy's bidding for him – rinse and repeat. In Michael's absence, Nikita had risen in rank, essentially taking over his "job". She was Percy's right-hand woman, and second in charge. She had her doubts about some of the jobs they did, but ultimately, she stayed because she wanted to protect the new recruits, the way Michael had protected her. But then it finally happened. Percy had received a phone call, and informed Nikita that Michael was back on the radar. Her heart skipped a beat, but she remained cool on her exterior. She was tasked with finding Michael, and confirming the kill. In her subconscious, she was positive she couldn't go through with it, but she would never admit that to anyone, let alone herself.
She escorted Percy to the governor's ball, and hoped against all hope that Michael wouldn't let himself be caught by the Division agents that had been sent out earlier to capture him. Word quickly reached her though that Michael had escaped, and had kidnapped Birkhoff as well.
"More champagne, Miss?" A voice said from behind her, and she turned to see Michael, dressed as a waiter, with a tray and champagne bottle. Her eyes widened in surprise.
"What are you doing here, Michael?" She hissed at him urgently, and looked around trying to locate Percy. Michael just smirked at her, the same way he always had, and looked past her to see Percy making his way over to them.
"Well, well. Isn't this a surprise! Glad you could join us, Michael. To what do we owe this pleasure?" Percy said in his usual slimy demeanour. Nikita knew that Percy was well equipped for the situation at hand, and this made her uneasy. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a couple of undercover agents making their way towards the three of them. She hoped Michael noticed them too...
"I'm here to empty my magazine into your skull," Michael said flatly to Percy, purposefully ignoring Nikita's eyes. Percy nodded subtly at his agents, and they made their way through the crowd of people toward Michael. Without warning, he whipped out a gun, seemingly from nowhere, and took out the two agents with two swift shots to the chest. He turned to aim at Percy, but saw that Nikita had already grabbed him and pushed him to safety behind a mini bar. Everyone in the hall was now screaming and running for their lives, which made things a little more difficult for him as well. Michael thought he'd better get out of there, and ran towards an exit. He sensed that Nikita was on his tail, and kicked up his speed. He broke through a window and crashed into the back alley of the building.
"Michael! Stop!" Nikita called out to him, gun drawn and aimed at his chest. He held his hands up, and turned around slowly. She told him to throw his gun down and get down on the ground. He tossed his gun aside, and took a few steps towards her. She could feel her whole body tense up. She repositioned her gun and called for him to get down on the ground and spread his arms and legs. He grinned at her, and replied, "Just like old times?" She felt her heart twang, and then felt angry.
"Shut up, Michael, just shut up! What are you doing back here? How can you come back after all this time? Why now, Michael? Why?" She snapped at him, years of emotions and questions and pains coursing through her words. It surprised Michael, but he didn't show it.
"Nikita, you know why I'm here. Someone has to stop Percy. He's out of control. How can you turn a blind eye to what he's doing? To what Division is doing? To what you are doing?" His words cut through her, and she knew he was right, but she couldn't just abandon her recruits, and she knew Michael knew that too. She did the only thing she could think to do – she told Michael about Percy's black boxes, and the fail-safe system set in place.
"You can't take down Division, Michael. No one can." She said quite somberly. Michael looked at her, took another step so that they were face to face, and replied, "Then stop me now, or help me, Nikita." For a moment, she was lost in his gaze - so familiar, so comfortable, so right. How she had missed him so! She was momentarily carried away with his scent, the scruffiness of him, and his soft, sparkling eyes. Then she heard a noise behind her, freeing her from her trance, and she realized that others would soon be following them.
"Michael..." she started to say, but before she even realized what was happening, he had pulled out a backup gun from god-knows-where, and shot her. The shock of being shot was nothing compared to the pain of knowing that it was Michael who had done it. How could he? After everything they'd been through. She trusted him with her life. She never expected he could be capable of doing such a thing. Maybe she'd been wrong to believe in him all these years... Maybe he really had gone rogue...
"Nikita, listen to me. It's a clean shot, it went right through. I only did this to protect you, you'll be okay!" And with that, he ran off into the night, leaving Nikita on the floor in the alley. Five seconds later, she was swarmed by Division agents, surrounding her to make sure she was alright. She was wounded, and in more ways than one. How could she continue to pine over someone who had fallen in love with another woman, gone rogue, and had actually just shot her? When did life get so complicated? As she was being carted away in a Division ambulance, she thought of what the future would look like.
Michael knew about the black boxes now...
Nikita slipped out of consciousness, and had anybody been paying close attention, they would have noticed her whisper "Michael", before drifting off.