Introduction:
This is my first foray into Nikita, as the standard disclaimer goes, I don't own Nikita, nor its characters. I do however own my idea.
Chapter 1:
3 years. Three whole years have passed by since that fateful day. Lets rewind the clocks just a bit; President Spencer has just been assassinated in the oval office. Taken by her own hand. Nikita Mears, just standing there, helpless, confused, but more than that, enraged at the lengths Amanda has gone to ruin her life, her happiness and her future. Nikita stands there, listening to Amanda's final words to her, "Its over Nikita, you are over. You are now the Most Wanted Woman in the world. Just like you always wanted. Everyone to want you, to need you. Now you have it." This sinister reminder filling Nikita with dread, Amanda had won again. So she knew what she had to do, she had to run, to save her life, to save her friends, her family, including the man she loves.
Michael Bishop, ex JAG officer for the Navy, ex Second in command at Division and ex lover to Nikita, stood there, watching the screen as news report after news report stated that Nikita murdered the president and took off. The Most Wanted Person in America, his hopes and dreams were crashing down around him. Michael knew, he knew that Nikita was innocent, as did Sonya, Alex, and Ryan, how could they not. It wasn't in Nikita to murder innocent people, but even they were flabbergasted at this, at how cruel and how much control Amanda had.
Seymour Birkoff, also known affectionately as Nerd, sat there watching news feed and RSS feeds of Nikita escaping the white house and killing the president. He knew for a fact she didn't do it, it wasn't her. But he also knew that no one else would care, Nikita wouldn't get a fair trial, she would be executed if she was found. Nikita who was his friend and sister in all but blood. Someone he loves is now being even more hunted and she did what she does best, she took it all on her shoulders, the weight of the world they constantly joked, and burdened herself rather than let any of it fall to them.
Alexandra Udinov stood there watching as another person she loved, abandoned her. She understood why, but she couldn't help feeling hurt by the loss, the feeling of being abandoned. Her whole life she has had to watch people she loved leave her, not always their fault but still they left her, especially when she needed them most. People like her father, her mother, Nathan, Sean, and now Nikita, to Alex the list just keeps on growing. Alex turns around, looks at everyone in the room wondering who next of their cavalier group will be the next to leave. Alex begging with her eyes, pleading with her heart that they wouldn't leave her as well. Michael, she had a crush on him since her time at Division, the stronger older Alpha male who exuded confidence, control, and more than a little sexual prowess. She could see how Nikita was enraptured in his presence. But she also saw more, she his confidence, his caring side and his ability to never fold or crack under pressure. Alex slowly walked over to Michael, wrapping her arms around him, not seeking anything other than assurance that he wasn't leaving too, that no matter what happened she wasn't going to lose him or anyone else.
But they all knew, Nikita had left them, had left her engagement ring behind with Michael, her way of telling him its over, her way of abandoning them so that if something should happen they wouldn't be caught up in her troubles. Nikita was always a loner, a survivor, she always did her best when she only had herself at her back. It was up to them now, to bring Nikita home, not by hunting for her, but by clearing her name, and by continuing the fight.
AN: This is absolutely my first fic for Nikita. Its been rattling around in my head all these days since I started the 4th season of Nikita. Fourth and final I should say. I dont know about the rest of you. I saw the finale tonight. It was a good ending to a show cut down before its time. I wont bore you all with my recap of the show.
Let me know what you think, or dont. I dont really care one way or another, this is just an outlet for me, and hopefully my muse will stop using the power drill in my head until I get it out.
Next Chapter we fast forward 3 years, with flashbacks to important moments.