Hola guys! This story starts off where Nikita is taking Birkhoff back from Sean after Amanda tortures him. I was planning on a one-shot, but it'll either end up being a two or three chapter story. I hope you like this first chapter.
Oh, and this was originally written for CriticalAngel. She wanted to see more Birkhoff related fanfictions, so I thought of this and well...here ya go!
Enjoy and let me know what you think!
Chapter 1: I'm Not Gonna Wave
Birkhoff limped forward, pain clawing at his muscles and bones with every step he took. "It's not like I can run," Birkhoff muttered sarcastically towards Sean, who had his right bicep locked in a death grip.
"Shut up. You're lucky I'm even bringing you back to Nikita," Sean spat, his tone filled with a hurricane of emotion.
Definitely not Michael or Nikita Birkhoff thought to himself. Division agents were trained to keep their emotions locked away in even the most difficult situations. Although agents slipped up once and a while, this Oversight kid didn't even know how to keep his tone even.
As Birkhoff and Sean rounded the final corner of the parking garage, Nikita came into view. She had a black device with a thick antenna in her right hand and held the black box in the other. Birkhoff could usually pick out any type of computer or electric device, but at the moment, his mind was erupting with a horrid headache.
"I'm not gonna wave," Birkhoff said flatly, his voice strained and gargled by swollen lips and a split tongue.
Nikita watched her friend with liquid brown eyes, tears threatening to escape and roll down her cheeks. Sean's sharp jerk to Birkhoff's arm brought her full rage out.
"Woah, woah sailor!" Nikita growled, bringing up the black device in her right hand higher. She rotated her thumb over the one button it contained and threatened Sean with her grip and eyes. "I jacked seventeen wireless connections. I let this go, the world's in for a nightmare."
Ha! Take that you son of a- Birkhoff's smug thoughts were cut off by Sean's comeback. Even the guy's tone irritated the hell out of Birkhoff.
"Let's have it," Sean said, his voice flatter than before. He was trying to show off for Nikita. He wanted to give off the vibe that he was only there for the black box, but Birkhoff knew better.
"Him first," Nikita said quickly, not a muscle in her body moving. She meant business as always, but Birkhoff noticed a slight difference in her tone.
He turned his head to meet Sean's eyes with a glare. Birkhoff's look said it all. You try and trick her, you lose.
Sean tore his eyes away from Birkhoff's to look at Nikita again. After a few more seconds, he shoved Birkhoff towards his rescuer. Thanks to Amanda's tactics, all he could manage was a very slow and stiff limp. Everything hurt like hell to move, especially with Sean's careless dragging and shoving from before.
"Birkhoff, check yourself. Make sure there's no trackers on you or in you," he heard Nikita say in a strained tone. She refused to move in fear of losing her leverage or getting caught off guard.
Birkoff nodded once and moved over to the device that Nikita had brought along. He scanned it up and down his body a few times, making sure to get every inch. He heard Sean taunt Nikita some more, but he didn't care enough to make out the words. He did however hear Nikita's snarky comeback.
"Let 'em come. The more, the merrier," she said simply. Birkhoff carried the device with him as he stepped back over towards Nikita.
"I'm clean," he heaved nasally. He truly didn't feel he had the energy to speak properly.
"Go upstairs," Nikita whispered towards him, her face towards Sean, but her eyes meeting his.
"What-"
"Go now," she growled, a bit more forceful.
Birkhoff exchanged a sayonara glare with Sean and then turned to run as fast as he could, which was barely a jog. The up-ramp hurt his legs more than anything, but he knew more pain would come if he didn't make it to whatever Nikita had waiting.
His ears were met with the sound of helicopter wings chopping through the frigid night air. "Oh yeah, baby!" Birkhoff couldn't help but choke out. There was no one to help him in, so he heaved himself up the best he could. The sound of a gunshot fired below made him move that much faster.
As he got himself buckled in, Nikita came sprinting through the opening as fast as she could. There was no one on her tail, but Birkhoff had a feeling that Sean was headed their way.
"Glad to have you back, nerd," Nikita said in a light-hearted tone as she jumped in with one graceful leap and slammed the door shut. The huge medal machine lifted off, only to be rained with bullets from an angry Sean below.
Birkhoff glanced down through the window as Nikita turned the helicopter towards home. "Good to be back," he coughed, locking eyes with the devil below for a brief moment.
Once they were out of rage, Birkhoff leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath. They shot through the starry night sky as fast as the helicopter would take them, which was faster than most thanks to Birkhoff.
"It'll be a while before we get back to the house. Get some rest," Nikita cooed from the seat beside his. Birkhoff was already out like a light though, getting the sleep that he desperately required.
Birkhoff started gaining consciousness a while later. When exactly, he had no clue. His eyelids felt extremely heavy and he couldn't force them open, so he settled on his listening to whatever was going on around him. He was about to start freaking out, but then he heard Nikita's voice off to the side.
"Yeah, he's fine. He'll be out of commission for a while though," Nikita stated. There was no reply, so Birkhoff assumed she was on the phone.
There was about a moment of silence and then she spoke up again. "The black box is gone as in destroyed. Sean put a bullet through it."
Nikita let out an exasperated gasp. "I don't know why, Michael. Maybe he's having some sort of mental breakdown or something! It's clear he doesn't give a crap about what Amanda thinks because she wanted the box back in one piece and he obviously hates his stupid job. He's just doing it to protect his idiot of a mother," Nikita growled. Birkhoff managed to get his eyes cracked open enough to see Nikita throw her left hand up in the air out of annoyance, her right cupping the cell phone.
"Calm down? How can I calm down after all this, Michael?" she snarled into the phone. It was clear she wasn't pleased with him. Birkhoff wasn't too happy either because his friend wasn't with them to help out, but he knew that Michael needed to be with his son.
Michael had definitely gotten gutsy though. Only he could get away with telling Nikita to calm down without leaving with a broken arm. He could possibly have a busted ear drum though, considering how loud Nikita was yelling.
"He won't be doing any hacking for a while. ShadowNet's gonna have to work on its own. Amanda crushed his hand-" she was about to continue, but Birkhoff's enraged voice cut her off.
"That moron did what?" he yelled loudly, opening his hazel eyes wide. He'd known how bad his hand hurt, but she crushed it?
"Birkhoff's awake. Gotta go!" Nikita said quickly, hanging up the phone. She tucked it in her back pocket as she made her way over to Birkhoff, forcing his thrashing arms back down onto the bed. "Stop it," she snapped, locking her brown eyes into his.
Birkhoff let his arms go limp with a huff. "She crushed the only thing that I ever use!" he moaned, shifting his weight on the bed. "Why the hell am I in a bed anyway. Where am I?" he asked, his eyes darting around the room.
"You're in your room and quit squirming. I just patched you up. The last thing I need is for you to rip a stitch," she grumbled, sitting down on the bed beside him. "We're back at the safe house. Please don't tell me you don't recognize your own bedroom?" she asked, worry lacing her voice.
Birkhoff watched Nikita carefully and then moved his eyes to scour the room more carefully. On the far wall facing the foot of the bed were two large glass sliding doors. They were propped open, cool air circulating throughout the room. He could barely see the edges of two lounge chairs placed on the balcony, a small glass coffee table sitting between them.
Over towards the right side of the room, there was a built in bar which came packed with wines, beers, and other expensive drinks. It looked more like something that should go somewhere around the kitchen, but Birkhoff liked his privacy. The left side of the room possessed a simple tan dresser, which was painted a tad lighter than the darker brown walls.
His eyes finally came to rest back on Nikita. Her close proximity caused Birkhoff to draw in a sharp breath. Although she was just a friend and he knew full well that she still belonged to Michael, she was still hot. Hiding his discomfort, Birkhoff grumbled, "Yeah, I know it's my room. I'm not stupid, Nikki."
"Like I said before, good to have you back, nerd," she retorted, ruffling his messy hair. He flinched away and swatted at her arm with his good hand. Suddenly, Nikita's face grew more serious. "How are you feeling? I gave you some pain killers last night when we got back. Does anything hurt?" she asked. Birkhoff knew Nikita was worried for him, but her tone gave away how worried she truly was.
"I'm fine," he said simply, deciding to spare her a testy comeback.
Nikita sighed with relief and placed her hand gently on Birkhoff's closest shoulder. "I'm really sorry, Birkhoff. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have rushed in like that to find the other members of oversight. We had time and I chose not to use it," Nikita sighed, her tone quivering.
Oddly, Birkhoff didn't like Nikita using his actual name. He had always despised the nickname 'nerd', but she only said Birkhoff when she was hurting inside or deadly serious. He found her to be a mix of both at the moment.
"Hey, Nik, it's okay. I could have said no, but I went with your plan. I got myself into the situation," he replied softly, something uncommon of the tech. geek. He tilted his chin to glance at her manicured hand still resting on his shoulder. "By the way, what happened to your fingers?" he asked innocently, although his tone was a bit mocking.
Nikita chuckled and muttered a reply. "What was that? I didn't quite hear you," Birkhoff asked, raising his eyebrows.
"I hit a basketball!" she yelled, embarrassment littering her voice.
"Okay, let me get this straight. You hit a basketball and broke your fingers? Why exactly, may I ask?" Birkhoff smirked. He loved getting on Nikita's nerves, especially when he knew she wouldn't slap him.
"Getting away from Sean. I hit a basketball out of some kid's hands and it hit a cop. The cop saw Sean's gun and drew his own, which gave me the chance to get away," Nikita replied in a mumble.
"Wow, Nikki. Never thought I'd see the day where you broke your fingers doing anything else but punching someone out. Especially, hitting a basketball! I mean, come on!" he laughed.
"Shut up," she snapped back playfully, standing up from the bed. She crossed her arms over her chest and heaved a sigh, a smile still tugging at her lips. "Looks like your condition hasn't hindered any part of your mouth," Nikita mocked.
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You know you're glad, babe," Birkhoff coughed, earning worried eyes from Nikita.
"Yeah, I guess I am. But you need to rest. I'll be back to give you some more pain medication later," she breathed, patting Birkhoff's arm gently and then heading towards the wooden doors.
"Wait, you're leaving me in a bed all day! I need my daily Scotch and my computers!" he whined, leaning up slowly in his bed.
"Forget it. You stay and sleep. I find you out of this bed, I will personally put you back in it," Nikita threatened, raising her dark eyebrows into perfect dark arches. She gave him a little wink and a peace sign, and then slid the doors closed.
"Moody assassin," Birkhoff grumbled with a toothy smile.
Well, there was the first chapter! Did ya like? Huh, did ya? ;D
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