Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: My first Nikita story, so it's probably not my best. Set after 02x05 - Looking Glass. I just thought Nikita seemed really upset with the Michael-Cassandra story and this is just my little insight on her feelings. Also, English is not my first language, so there will be grammar/coherence mistakes. Just let me know where and I'll fix it.

Enjoy!

Nikita was lying on the bed in a hotel room outside Minsk while Michael talked on the phone with Birkoff. Cassandra had decided to stay in Belarus with Max instead of moving to the US, so she knew Michael was probably just setting things up for them to return home on the next day.

Not that she was paying any attention. Her mind was a turmoil of thoughts and emotions spiraling in inside her head along with the terrifying feeling of uncertainty; the events of the last couple of days still stirring inside of her, spreading a wave on anguish through her body.

"I found that I couldn't…" he evaded, looking down.

Nikita felt a twinge of sorrow "Leave your feelings out of it?" she supplied for him.

"She was just a mission, nothing else" he reassured her.

But she knew from the look on his eyes and the almost imperceptible edge on his voice that he was lying. Cassandra had been more than just an asset.

And probably meant more to him than me – she bitterly thought.

She tried to control the poison of jealousy cursing trough her veins; she knew she had no right to be jealous of Cassandra.

But she couldn't help it. Michael seemed so devoted to her, and since she had seen Michael and Cassandra interacting there was this awful feeling in the pit of her stomach. The feeling that she might just lose what she holds most dear.

Her heart sank at the slightly possibility. Michael was her strength, the only constant in her life, the person that kept her sane and gave her reason to keep going. She was complete at loss without him.

The thought was terrifying to her.

She took a calming breath when she felt Michael join her on the bed.

Snuggling her against his chest, he wrapped an arm around her waist and lovingly kissed her hair "We are all set for tomorrow morning" he announced. His lips moved to her neck as his hands wandered through her thighs.

Suddenly feeling insecure, her heart raced. Michael felt Nikita's body's stiff at the touch of his hands.

"Hey…"he said gently turning her over so he could look at her "what's the matter?" he asked, searching her eyes for any indication of what was bothering her.

He was worried when the only thing he could see in her beautiful brown eyes was nothing but pure vulnerability. She was fragile and he knew he had to handle her with care.

"Nikita, what happened?" he asked, his fingers slightly stroking his hair in an attempt to reassure her.

She sighed and shook her head.

"I'm okay, just tired" she gave him a sad smile hoping he would buy it.

But he knew better than that. He knew her well enough to know that she was lying. Deep down, he knew what was really troubling her.

"Look, if this is about Cassandra…" he started, but Nikita didn't let him finish.

"I'm just tired" she insisted "let's just go to sleep, okay" she turned away from him again, pulling the covers up "We have to wake up early tomorrow" she told him over her shoulders.

Knowing better then push her, Michael just kissed her shoulder and whispered good night.

Though Michael fell asleep quickly, Nikita's mind was still racing through all her doubts.

She noticed his change of demeanor every time she mentioned Cassandra. The look on his eyes.

Did Michael love Cassandra more than he loved her? Wasn't she as especial? Was he still in love whit her? Would he go back to her?

In the middle of her insecurities her mind flashed back to the day before.

He looked down; his eyes filled with sadness "I'd started to forget what it's like…having a family"

Didn't he consider her his family? Wasn't she enough?

And then of course, there was Max. There was no way in the world Michael would choose her over Max. Ever.

The thought brought tears to her eyes.

She knew how much Michael missed having a family, and though she wished she could give him that, they both knew it was not an option. Not in their current situation.

Would he leave her for Cassandra and their son?

The idea caused a hysteria to rise on her chest and she knew wouldn't be able to control her tears anymore.

Trembling, she got out of bed and went to the bathroom as fast as she could without waking up Michael.

Closing the door behind her, she walked towards the sink and put her hands down on the cold marble to support herself. Taking several deep breaths she tried her swallow back her tears. But when she finally looked up and faced her image in the mirror she couldn't control herself.

Sobbing, she let the warm tears surface and stream down her face.

Embarrassed, she looked away from the mirror and sat on the edge of the tub, hiding her face on her hands, trying to stop the damn tears, and hoping it would muffle the sound of her sobs.

Was she overreacting? Were her fears unfounded?

"Michael, I wanted to ask you something but I didn't want it to come out the wrong way" She had managed to control her voice "That night in Russia, at the safe house. You said you couldn't be with me because you had to avenge your family first. But now you're saying you've been with Cassandra…" she swallowed, wishing he couldn't see how hurt she was.

Michael looked away, and didn't answer as fast as she would like him to have. He didn't look at her when he answered "The man that was with Cassandra was…someone else"

But it didn't reassure her like she hoped it would.

She replayed these moments in her head over and over again; the edge on his voice every time he mentioned Cassandra, the way they exchanged looks, the way they hugged each other. The times Michael couldn't look in her eyes.

God, it hurt her.

She didn't hear the door open. She didn't notice him entering the bathroom.

Michael watched his beautiful, strong girl dissolve into tears while hiding in a bathroom like a teenage girl.

He hated to see her cry, especially because of him. Kneeling down in front of her, he slowly removed her hands, revealing her tear stained face.

"Talk to me, Nikita" he pleaded.

She closed her eyes and sobbed "You must think I'm really silly"

Michael held her hands end pulled her from the tub to the floor next to him, holding her against his chest "No, I don't. You're feeling rejected because I slept with Cassandra and refused to sleep with you back in Russia" He knew her well enough to know what was on her mind.

"I'm sorry" she whispered "I know I have no right to feel this way"

He chuckled "Well, we can't control these kind of feelings" he kissed her hair and rocked back and forth slowly, soothingly.

"I'm just afraid I'm not as special as her" she admitted "I don't wanna lose you, Michael. I wouldn't bare it"

Loosening his grip on her, he tilted her chin up and looked deeply into her eyes "You're everything to me, Nikita" Capturing her lips with his, he could feel the salty taste of her tears and her need for reassurance. Her need for him. "You're my home, you're my family. I'm not going anywhere."

Nikita clutched the fabric of his shirt, like if trying to hold on his promise. Like if her life depended on it.

He knew she was still sentimental about it, and he wanted nothing more than comfort her. Caressing her cheek, he smiled at her.

"I love you. There's nothing that would make me leave you." He kissed her lips once more "I promise"

Nikita rested her head against his chest and smiled. But the sense of relief that spread through her body didn't last long as the image of a five year old blonde little boy flashed in her mind.

If only you knew – she thought, swallowing the lump in her throat.

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