Disclaimer: I don't own Nikita. Never have, never will. But if I did... ;)
This is set during season 1, while Alex is still a recruit.
Every six months came the Three Days of Hell. But this time...Micheal was determined to make it different. Maybe even productive and relaxing. After all, it was just dancing, it shouldn't be that difficult.
But he hadn't taken into account just who he had as recruits. Thom he could count on to do decent. Sure, the young man wasn't the most flawless dancer, but he actually tried and he never gave Michael attitude.
But then there was Jaden. And Jaden mouthed off about every little detail-she hated the music, her partner sucked, this was stupid, etc.. But two months of ignoring just about everything the girl said had its merits; Michael could mostly ignore her, or just tell her to shut up without any remorse.
Alex, however, was a whole other story. Despite being Thom's partner, she managed to mess up every step. When she was suppose to move forwards, she stepped on his feet, when she was supposed to spin, she managed to trip the both of them, sending them spiraling into another pair of (miserably) dancing recruits. And when one of the pair was Jaden... It was the equivalent of World War Three.
But that was okay. It was only the first day, no need for him to have a stroke.
It will get better, he told himself.
The second day there was little improvement. Very little. But he told himself, perhaps for the sake of his sanity and determination of surviving the Three Days of Hell, that even a little improvement was progress. Jaden was putting in a little effort, though she was still going on about her hatred of the music.
Who hates classical music? It's beautiful. It's inspiring. It's the only thing keeping him calm enough not to shoot Jaden in the head.
When he get's called into Operations for a few minutes, he's relieved. A few minutes to cool off, have some grown-up talk with actual adults (Birkoff was sort of a kid, but he could tolerate a few childish antics from the tech genius-unless he started going off about Shadownet, in which case he might just kill him too) and get his mind focused on some other work.
"How's it going out there, Mikey?" Birkoff asked, despite already knowing because he'd been keeping an eye on the chaos out the window.
"I don't understand why they need to know how to dance. It's hopeless." Michael groused.
"Assuming any of them become agents, it's likely that, at one point or another, they'll have an assignment that requires basic dancing skills." Amanda said, confirming his suspicion that the redhead was standing behind him.
Michael was a bit reluctant to return to the class, but he did, waiting until Amanda left to tell Birkoff to take his gun until the lesson was over. He probably wouldn't actually shoot any of the recruits, but he did have a small history of actually pointing the gun at their heads when they just pushed him towards the edge of his sanity.
Good thing he gave his gun (at least, the one he automatically reached for, not the other he kept hidden on himself) to the techie, because Alex seemed to have no concept of boundaries. And damn that woman was a smart ass.
Come day three, Michael arrived to lead the class with composure (also, he already handed his gun to Birkoff, so as not to be tempted to show up pointing it at the recruits to scare them into dancing right-he tried that once, it didn't work). Last day, he could do this, and everyone would just walk away and forget about dancing for the next six months.
It was a good idea to him.
Which was probably why the recruits decided to hell with dancing, they were just going to piss all over his hopes and dreams.
The most surprising was Thom. Gone was Thom's help, the guy didn't seem to care about assisting Michael in controlling the class (controlling Jaden and Alex). When he just shrugged off his usual self-imposed obligations, Michael knew today's lesson would end horribly.
The least surprising was Jaden. She was putting way to much sex into every move, purposely making herself look like a stripper (the composer of the song had to be rolling his grave). It was nauseating.
And who else would be the person to call her on it but Alex?
"I don't think anyone ordered a stripper, Jaden." Alex snickered, joined by a few other recruits.
If he thought World War Three had occurred on day one, he was so, so wrong. That was some sort of sick preview, because now Thom wasn't helping at all. And no one was going to get in between the two girls because, one, no one wanted to be an enemy of either of them (for good reason, Michael would admit), and two, no one wanted to get in trouble either.
After he split them up and the class was all but officially over, he paced back and forth before them, letting his immense irritation show.
"You're all lucky that I didn't lock you in a room with a couple of Cleaners. And you're also lucky that I didn't just shoot you all myself." he growled. "If I hear one more word about strippers or dancing or anything that had to do with the last three days, I will invite Roan to join me for a session of Cleaning." he said. The looks of fear on their faces were evident and enough to soften him a bit. The recruits were pretty much his kids, he was still fond of (most of) them. "But I suppose that wasn't the worst Three Days of Hell I've experienced. Keep practicing," he knew that wasn't going to happen. "and I'll see some of you for this again in another six months. Dismissed."
There was some groans from those who would likely still be in training during the next Three Days of Hell.
Nice to know they were in as much misery as he was.
## ## ##
It had been a few days since the dancing lessons, and Michael had had some time to cool off, much to the relief of his students. Everything was returning to normal.
Except that he was hearing music, the same classical music he had put on repeat a few days before. Stifling any irritation at the sound (it triggered annoyance rather than calmness now), he looked into the room.
Alex, clothed in her sweatpants and tank top, was stepping back and forth, swaying from side to side. Though he could only see part of her face, he could see that she was uncertain about her movements, the slight color in her cheeks a sign of embarrassment.
"You're out of rhythm." Michael told her.
She reacted as he expected her to, jumping like a startled cat (more of a kitten than anything else) and actually blushing, more embarrassed now than she was a few seconds ago dancing by herself.
"Yeah, I've been told that I suck at dancing." she said.
Michael shook his head, joining her inside the room. "You don't, as you say, suck. You just need practice." A lot of practice. "Come here."
She raised a brow at him.
"Yes, I'm serious." he said smirking, though he went to her. Before taking her, he grabbed the remote off the floor and changed the song-he couldn't stand the violins and flutes right now, not after the Three Days of Hell. He settled on a familiar song played on the piano.
"Alright, take my hand and put your other hand on my shoulder. Good." he said. He closed his hand around hers and placed his other hand on her slim waist. "Now, back, forward, left, right. Good." he praised. "Back-" she moved forward instead, stepping on his feet. "The other way, Alex." he said lightly.
"Right..." she said.
They stayed silent for a minute, Alex concentrating on moving her feet in the right direction while Michael simply led her through the movements.
"So, you aren't going to lock me up with Roan, right?" she asked suddenly, her tone to teasing for the question to be taken as serious. "Considering you're the one who started the conversation about dancing."
"No, I guess I turn the other way, just once, all things considered." he said, matching her tone. She smiled.
"Do you really think I don't suck?" she asked. Michael shook his head.
"You will if you don't practice."
Alex nodded and made a sound of agreement.
"I have to say, I'm a bit surprised that it's you who's practicing." he said.
"The dancing lessons were horrible, but I don't actually mind dancing itself." Alex said. She bit her lip, looking hesitant. "My father and I use to dance sometimes when I was a child. Not often, he was always busy, but on my birthday...holidays..."
Michael listened with interest. According to Amanda, Alex's family was a sore spot, something she was extremely tight lipped about.
"What did you do for a living?" he asked curiously when it was clear Alex wasn't going to continue talking. Alex just shook her head, a wistful look on her young face. "You don't like to talk about your family, do you?"
Alex sighed. "What's the use in talking about them when they're long gone?"
He hummed his agreement and nodded. He wouldn't tell her that talking would help, that the pain of losing those you loved would go away with time. He wasn't Amanda, it wasn't his job to feed her pretty little lies.
The song changed to a one with a faster tempo. He sped up to match it, while Alex, unsuspecting of the change in speed, stumbled backward. He caught her and righted her before working them back into the dance. It was a good thing they didn't have the female recruits practice in heels anymore (not after what Nikita did...), otherwise Alex would have twisted her ankle long ago.
"You're good at this." she said.
"I've had practice."
"Mm."
As the song ended, Michael came to a stop, giving Alex a smirk. "See? You just need to practice."
A look crept onto the young woman's face, instantly striking wariness into his very being. She snapped to attention, posture rigid. She snapped off a salute, smiling mischievously. "Yes, Sir Twinkle Toes, sir!"
His eyes brows shot up, a look of disbelief on his face. Alex was shaking, clearly holding back her laughter. Before she knew what was coming, Michael's hands shot out, pulling her close before pushing her out, letting her lose on a spin, before pulling her back in and nearly dropping her, catching her before she hit the floor.
The look of complete and utter surprise was satisfying, as well as Alex's little squeak of surprise and resulting laughter. The girl was either always so serious or being a total smart ass, it was nice to see her acting a bit like the youth she was. He even let out a short laugh to prove it.
"And that, Alex, is how a pro does it." he said, letting her up.
"Thank you, Michael." she said. "For helping me, for...making me laugh."
Michael's smile matched the sincerity of Alex's thanks.
So it's been requested that I continue my other Nikita story, The Things I Learn. And I will! I just need to get back into writing Nikita fandom. Also, I need to get over my small case of writer's block so I can also work on my other (non-Nikita) story, Divergence, too. This came to me while I was trying to fall asleep listening to a little Bach and some Yurima. You can thank my insomnia for this one-shot.
I guess if you squint, you could look at this as Malex romance, but I sort of saw it as Malex mentor-ship/friendship. And I also recognize that the first part of this was slightly crackish, but oh well.
I'd really appreciate it if you'd leave a review. Pretty please?