AN: So this is my first fanfic for Nikita. It's just an idea I have been playing around with post season 3. Think it's probably a one shot but not entirely sure. Please read & review any all feedback would be much appreciated. I'm not sure if I've really captured the characterisation – or if maybe Birkhoff especially is a little too OOC.
Prologue – Day One AP (after Percy)
Birkhoff was in trouble. He hadn't planned it this way, admittedly at the time it hadn't looked like there would be much long term planning to be done. A future with Percy running things wasn't a future at all. Everything in his life now came down to Before Percy (insane, terrifying death or glory -Luke defeating the Deathstar single handed kind of stuff) and After Percy (victory, success, the good guys rewarded – Han Solo gets a medal and the girl etc.). Now though, well now it was all over. The dust had settled, the marines had gone home (unfortunately they may have been useful) and here he stood in Division with trouble headed his way. Well perhaps not headed his way, but definitely glaring in his direction. Michael stood on the walk way, hands braced on the rail. Birkhoff could feel his glare on the back of his neck – he didn't look up.
Initially it had all been good. They'd won. Bad guys dead, world saved and he'd even kissed the girl. Well two girls if you wanted to be technical, and that's where things started to go wrong. Who knew the guy could hold a grudge? The whole thing with Percy and Kasim wasn't such a one off after all. Birkhoff had been just been preparing to honour the dweebs with his wisdom when the voice of doom spoke.
'Birkhoff a moment.' That's when he'd glanced up and first caught the goatee of intimidation being beamed his way. It didn't even take two seconds thought for his brain to throw up the memory of his lips on Niki's and the look on Mikey's face when he'd patted him on the shoulder and blithely promised 'you can kick my ass later'. He was in trouble, soooo much trouble.
4 am Day Three AP
Two days later Birkhoff stared at his pale face in the bathroom mirror. Even for him he was looking bad – less like he'd been up all night playing World of Warcraft and more like he'd just got back from a week-long tour of some of the more questionable bars in downtown Bangkok. He had bags on the bags under his eyes and he'd developed a weird convulsive tic on the left side of his face. He was completely fucking screwed and the tension was killing him. Not only was he trying to avoid the big dark and scary ass-kicking that Mikey seemed intent on delivering, but both Niki and Sonya had separately and still somehow terrifyingly, suggested quietly that they should 'talk'. It was the quite serious way that they said it that had him worried. He was Shadowwalker – he didn't do 'girl talk'. Well unless they were online and it somehow involved the removal of their clothes. Suddenly though he's got TWO girls who think they should TALK. He was in trouble. So much fucking trouble.
Placing his shaking hands on the edge of the basin Birkhoff peered blearily into the eyes of his reflection. They were red-rimmed and the pupils were dilated, he'd been living on Red Bull for the last 48 hours. When that had stopped working he'd added a chaser of black coffee and then topped that with some straight vodka he thought Alex may have left in his den when she'd shut herself in there yesterday with sailor boy. Supposedly they'd needed to talk (there was that word again), but everyone knew talking was not what they'd been doing. Hell -Sean's t-shirt had been on backwards, the Russian Princesses' hair had been everywhere, and both of them had been grinning like maniacs when they finally emerged hours later. Badass I may kill you if you laugh at me maniacs – but still maniacs. So here he was hiding out in the bathroom – too terrified to sleep in case one of his three new nightmares caught up with him. While somewhere at the back of his head a little voice kept worrying about what exactly the Boy Scout and Princess had been doing on his couch, and whether it would be easier to get it cleaned or buy a new one, and god-help him praying they'd been nowhere near his desk chair. Cause he loved that chair.
Shit. Maybe he'd been looking at this all wrong – maybe by 'talk' Sonya and Niki meant some couch action! He could certainly do that. Hell he'd had long involved fantasies about doing that, with both of them or even better both of them together. He could picture it now the slide of hands on caramel skin, Nikita, in that soft white lace thing she wore to bed, lips -soft and demanding at the same time- on his, as his hands stroked up Sonya's thigh pushing the thin silk of her pale pink negligée... oh fuck. He slapped himself in the face. He had to get his shit together. He poured cold water into the basin and stuck his whole head in. Shaking his head to clear the water out of his eyes, he shivered as water dripped down his neck. He needed a cold shower, he needed some sleep, he needed a way out. He glanced once more at his reflection in the mirror, wet hair stuck to his head, eyes glazed and a five o'clock shadow that had passed five o'clock yesterday, and strode out of the bathroom. He wasn't sure where he was headed, but he was headed for trouble.
7 pm Day Four AP
In the end Birkhoff did what he always did when he was in trouble – hands on the keyboard he poured all of his energy into his computer. Ryan wanted Divisions security redesigned, and as he'd made clear today in the high level briefing he'd demanded Alex, Sean, Michael, Birkhoff and Nikita all attend, he wanted it done last week. Whilst his demands were a pain – little CIA man thought he was giving the orders now – Birkhoff would lay money on how long that lasted (Niki just didn't get that whole chain of command thing – never had, probably never would). No one had argued that it made complete sense to redesign the security system though. With Percy gone, and Division reborn it was difficult to say who was and who was not to be trusted, and there was always that psycho-bitch Amanda to worry about. He'd made it work for him though – with Division at imminent risk of a security breach he'd had a valid excuse for avoiding Niki and Mikey and he'd all but ordered Sonya to glue her ass to her computer. Hunched over the keyboard, the light from the monitor bleaching what little colour was left in his face his fingers danced through the code. He was Shadowwalker, he ruled this world, he was …'Nerd we need to talk- NOW'….so fucked. Nikita strode into his den her refusal to be denied in every line of her body. She was the embodiment of determination, and clearly on one of her crusades. In other words she was a walking, talking unstoppable force of nature, and she was headed his way.
'Ah Niki I'm kinda busy you know protecting the innocent, defending the nation blah blah blah.' He didn't look up from his monitor – hopefully if he looked busy she might go away. Yeah – that was likely, but you lived in hope. 'This is more important and I need you on it now. You've been avoiding me for days – don't think I haven't seen you lurking in the corners when I'm around, and frankly you could use a break you look like shit.' She stopped directly beside his chair, and leaned over to peer into his face.
'Thanks for the boost to my fragile self-esteem – not all of us have time for a daily facial- some of us have to work you know, and Ryan was pretty insistent that this was my top priority.' Admitting defeat he swung his chair to face her and hesitantly meet her eyes. Maybe given how shit he looked she'd take pity on him – a swift verbal kick in the balls rather than a full scale emotional attack where he might have to admit to having FEELINGS. Birkhoff didn't do feelings – look where they got you, a broken hand, psycho bitches attempting to redesign your frontal lobe, and twenty million dollars of your money floating ash on some New Jersey back country road. Nikita put a hand on his shoulder, and gave him a concerned look 'What is with you – you know I'm just concerned, and following Ryan's orders – that's a cope out and we both know it. Sure the security system is important but so are you, and right now you're the one I'm more worried about.' With that she grabbed his arm and started to pull him to his feet.
That was the thing about Niki – she was always surprising you. She looked so delicate, every guys wet dream, but underneath there was real strength there, both physical and emotional. He swayed as he came fully upright, and felt the burn of moisture behind his eyes as he contemplated what she was going to say. He didn't need to hear she cared, loved him even except maybe not the way he'd sometimes like. Shit – he'd spent a long time not thinking about that, and really most of the time he was okay with it, happy even. He liked to think that maybe if she hadn't met Michael first he'd have been in with a chance. Certainly he thought he had a better shot than Mr CIA analyst or that tattooed wannabe asylum inmate Owen. But really that was all talk, all crap he allowed himself in the privacy of his own head. Somehow with Nikita and Michael you just couldn't be envious- there was something just so right about them. It was like Aragorn and Arwen Evenstar, or that Twilight shit with the sparkly vampire and the weird pale chick (which he had not watched, not even once…well maybe once….but it had only been the first movie) and he was so not the werewolf type. Oh Jesus fucking Christ he was in trouble …. now he was having fucking feelings.
Nikita put her arm around his shoulder and braced him as he hurriedly wiped the moisture from his eyes, praying she hadn't noticed. 'Shit Nerd, Alex is right you need to lay-off those energy drinks. That crap will kill you – come on we'll go back to the warehouse, l'll make you a nice veggie shake, and Alex and Sean are bringing home Chinese there should be plenty. You need to broaden your diet – include some actual food groups.' With that Nikita hustled him out of the den and along the corridor towards the elevator, her arm now circling his waist. Furtively he tried to check over his shoulder – he so did not want to run into Mikey with Nikita cuddled up to him. 'God are you trying to poison me Niki – veggie shakes are not food –I'm positive they are some kind of left over conditioning from Amanda, and you should seek help. And I don't see Mikey drinking your shakes – if you can't convince him given the kind of "persuasion" you could use, how the hell do you think you can get me to drink them?' She stopped abruptly and he nearly tripped over his own feet in an effort not to fall. Glaring at her he watched as she stepped in closer, placing her free hand on his chest. 'Are you questioning my "persuasive" techniques Birkhoff?' Her voice was husky and had dropped to a low purr as she spoke. Gulping he closed his eyes and tried really really hard not to think about how her mouth tasted. Suddenly he was shoved off balance again, and his arm was drawn up behind his back as she applied pressure until it was just on the edge of pain. 'Am I persuading you now?' Her breath was hot and moist in his ear as she chuckled; dropping his arm she slung hers around his waist and started off again. 'Come on let's get you home, you need to get some sleep and let your mouth catch up with your brain.'
In the enclosed space of the elevator he held his hands behind his back, trying to disguise their shaking. For a brief moment there he'd thought she was going to kiss him, and he hadn't been sure if he was terrified that she would or that she wouldn't. He knew which the better idea was obviously; I mean he liked his body with all its limbs intact. Amanda had reinforced that for him quite clearly, and the chances of Michael being less generous in the ass-kicking department if the kisses were mutual were not high. Fact is he'd bet on Spock having a passionate affair with Captain Kirk before he'd put money on Michael's reaction being at all understanding. Sometimes the guy was just plain unreasonable. Problem was he could still smell her skin, feel where her hand had touched his chest, and the memory of the softness of her lips against his was setting his brain on fire. 'Birkhoff, Birkhoff' the voice and the hand shaking his arm brought him back to reality. Shaking his head he stepped out of the elevator and headed on automatic pilot towards his car. 'Uh uh, no way are you driving anywhere. We'll take my car'. Stumbling he turned to follow her 'Uh yeah'
Nikita settled Birkhoff into car. As she got into the driver's side she glanced across at him, he looked wrecked, and was shaking his head and talking to himself. She could have sworn he'd just said something about not wanting to be a werewolf. She was worried about him – they all were. Birkhoff was in trouble.