The concierge has a gun. Watch your back.

The note lay innocently on his bed. It was wrinkled and slightly torn at the crease where it had been folded in half. He had spent too much time already staring at it, and now he was back. Back trying to analyze the words, find out what the hell she was playing at. She had been right, and the acne-ridden moron had been eliminated easily, but if he wasn't warned, he couldn't quite truthfully admit he would have seen it coming. So what did that mean, that she trying to protect him? They're relationship was a strange push-pull that could so quickly become uneven. He didn't understand why she had gone out of her way to warn him. But really, who was he kidding? When did he ever understand her?

The first time he saw the note it was just sitting on the driver's seat of his car. Her handwriting had been identifiable immediately and he cursed himself softly for letting himself become slightly enamored with her. Relationships had no place in Division. Unless it was on an op, sex wasn't supposed to be part of your vocabulary. The most intimate relationship you had was between your hand and yourself. Of course people had broken the rule once or twice and had rendezvous with fellow spies, a few of them getting caught. He couldn't help but think that he and Nikita wouldn't have. They were smarter and better. Even in the beginning, she had quickly surpassed everyone's expectations…

He had thought they had been heading in that direction, quickies against the shower in the middle of the night (they were trusted among higher-ups and allowed to roam in the night) or maybe a more-than-slightly-primal fuck against the wall. But then she had found Daniel. And she drew away from Michael. They had hardly talked anymore, but he could see, even from a distance, that it was eating away at her. All that lying, to Division, to Daniel, to her friends. And then, Daniel had proposed to her. That fucking cock-block dared to put a ring around her finger!

And she let him. She was so in love with him. Michael could see it clearly. So she tried to break away from Division. And Daniel paid the cost. Then, she disappeared, gone completely off the radar. Until now. Now she was trying to destroy Division. And Michael had no idea where he stood. Was he to be eliminated too? Surely she wouldn't care. After all, he was just another one of Division's pawns. So why the note?

He was sitting on his bed, in the middle of his rather barren apartment. Well, it was really Division's. He was a tenant. Except he paid in work instead of money. He closed his eyes and laid back, resting his hands behind his head. For a few moments, the only sound was the thumping of his heart. He focused on it, trying to lull himself to sleep. Ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump, creeeaaak, ba-bump… He frowned. That wasn't right. The creak didn't belong. A soft weight pressed down on his mattress, he could feel heat enmating from the source. His eyes flew open. Nikita. Of course it was. She gave him a small smirk.

"Lazy today?" She asked, raising her eyebrow.

He sighed and closed his eyes, focusing on his heartbeat again. Ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump.

"Something wrong, Michael?" Was there actually a tinge of worry in her voice? He couldn't be sure. She was amazing at faking emotions.

"What do you want Nik?" he asked, his voice heavy.

"To talk."

"Why?" his voice was barely above a murmur. He was afraid if he spoke any louder, he wouldn't be able to control his words.

"Are you okay?" her tone was conversational, light to the point where it was almost annoying.

"Fine." His voice was clipped. He could see no reason for her visit, and if she stayed here any longer, he might actually remember he was charged with the task of catching her.

A soft sigh escaped her lips. Suddenly, the weight on his bed shifted and her warm body was pressed against his, her legs tangled between his and her face resting above his heart. He couldn't find it in himself to do anything about it. He just wanted to relax and forget about everything. Maybe she did too. And so he let her lay there with him, the both of them listening to his heart pound steadily away in his chest.

Ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump…

First Nikita story, and my first story for a looooong time. I realize this has pretty much no point at all, but I felt the need to write a Michael/Nikita story.

Reviews would be adored.

Love, Helen