Title: Bittersweet Symphony
Author: Jen
Email:
Category: M&N, post-ep, Vignette, Michael's POV.
Rating: G
Summary: Years later, Michael and Nikita are together, but there's one thing missing.
Spoilers: the series finale which I think SUCKED
Distribution: Anywhere as long as I know the url.
Disclaimers: La Femme Nikita, the show and characters do not belong to me. They belong to
USA, WB, and everyone else who abuses them.
Feedback: is food for the hungry soul as well as fodder for my ego. BEG
Author's Note: This story is the sequel to No Regrets. If you haven't read it, read it. It's a good idea. Plus, it's kinda hard to figure out what's going on in a movie if you haven't seen the beginning. Anyway, enjoy the show!
"Adam, dinner's ready!" Nikita called out to her step-son from the kitchen as she placed their dinner on the dining room table. "Ohhh!" she squealed slightly as a pair of cold arms and hands snaked around the exposed middle where her cream-colored sweater had ridden up. Slightly cool lips trailed a river of kisses from the nape of her neck to the fleshy curve of her earlobe which was promptly nibbled on and then soothed with a lick. Nikita shivered slightly at the arousing touch.
"Gross! Get a room if you're going to have sex, please! Young eyes and ears need not watch and listen to such indiscretions," Adam teased his parents.
"Being a smartass again? Is that all they're teaching you in that expensive college you're going to and that we're paying for? Hmmm?" Michael asked his son as he absentmindedly nuzzled the curve of Nikita's neck. This part of her body completely fascinated him. It was felt warm and velvety, tasted like chocolate raspberries, and smelled like fragrant calla lilies. Michael's musings were interrupted by the deep voice of his son.
"Anyway, how was work today? Did you kick anyone's ass?" Adam asked eagerly.
"You wish. Mostly false alarms and I did some estimates for security revamping on a couple of high profile clients' homes."
"So that means we'll have quite a bit of money left over if we get the bids?" Nikita murmured before nipping Michael's corded neck. It was a long moment before Michael could think, much less speak.
"Something like that, yes." Just then a small cry rose up and Nikita turned toward the sound.
"Looks like Alyssa is awake. She's hungry," Nikita said as she prepared a bottle. Michael and Adam followed Nikita into the nursery where Michael and Nikita's baby daughter sat in her crib. "Shhh. Mama's here," Nikita said in a soothing voice. Michael reached into the crib and lifted his daughter into his arms. With bright hazel-green eyes, and honey blonde wisps of hair, she was a beautiful combination of the two of them. Once again he marveled at the luck he and Nikita had. A few years ago, Nikita had seen to the survival of her version of Section One. In the hands of her sister, Nikita was free to leave, and be with Michael and Adam. So they had become a family, and Nikita had become a mother, albeit a late bloomer. So here they were, the four of them, together as a family, and never to be bothered by Section One, and hopefully, none of its enemies.
"Nikita, hand me the bottle." When it wasn't forthcoming, Michael turned around. And found nothing. Neither Nikita nor Adam was in the room. Terror struck a cord in his heart, and Michael was afraid to turn and see what lay in his arms, but he did. And there was little surprise when he discovered Alyssa vanished from his arms, and the crib, and all the other beautiful ornaments he and Nikita had picked lovingly for their first child. Vanished.
I woke from my dream, sweating, heart pounding and a deep ache enveloping my chest. Familiar with the pain, it was almost a comfort, the predictability of my pain. There had never been a cottage. Nor did we have a girl child named Alyssa whom I had fallen in love with the first moment I held my daughter in my arms. Adam never lived with us, and Section One still had its clutches in Nikita and me.
A low sound of pain, indescribable pain, emanated from deep in my throat, and I turned to the one person who could help me. Soothe me. "Kita," I whispered. I need you. As if she heard my unspoken plea, Nikita woke from a deep sleep, and whatever she saw in my eyes had her reaching for me.
"I'm here, I'll always be here," she whispered as she drew me into her arms. I nestled my face into the warm soft curve of her neck and closed my eyes. Silent tears slipped out, but neither of us noticed.
The next morning neither of us said a word about the night's events, and instead dressed appropriately for the leaders of Section One. Almost twenty-five years ago, Nikita took over the reigns of Section One. The same day she took over Section, her father was executed in exchange for my son. Immediately following, Adam and I left Australia and headed for the States, leaving Nikita to govern Section One. Alone. For twelve years after, I raised Adam to become a young man, and what an amazing man my son has become. Regardless of the turmoil he had gone through the first four years of his young life, Adam graduated high school and was accepted to Oxford. Up until that point, I had not told Adam of my previous life as an operative for Section One or of my relationship with Nikita, and the events that led to mine and Adam's reunion. One afternoon, I confessed everything, from the death of my parents and my involvement with the 'freedom fighters' in Paris to my recruitment into Section, involvement in the operation to bring down Elaina's father, and my involvement with and love for Nikita. I told him about Section's disapproval of our relationship, about her struggle to discover why she was brought to Section, and the discovery of her father, the kidnapping of Adam, our fight to bring him back, and the ultimatum Mr. Jones posed to his daughter. I told him about her choice, the reason why he was with me, and the sacrifice the both of us had made to give him a home. A chance at life.
I sacrificed everything for Adam, the woman I love and the chance at happiness we would have had. That afternoon, Adam retreated from me for a few hours and then came back, convinced me to go to Nikita. And so here I am, five years later, second in command and husband to Section One's leader. When Nikita brought me back in, we had to be careful because although the majority of Section One's operatives liked her in command, there were a few that had their eye on her seat. In addition, she had acquired enemies in the Center, people that would look for any infraction, no matter how small, to use it to try to knock her out of her command. And so they tried.
When Mr. Jones died, Nikita had told the Board that Adam and I had died in the firefight, and produced bodies, tampered DNA, and the like. When I returned, there was much explaining to do. For many months after, we watched our backs because of the constant threat of cancellation that hung over our heads. During this time, I was re-evaluated and retrained as I had been out of the Section for many years. Although I was in shape physically and mentally, I had to be retrained intensively because of advances made in technology. Eventually, after three years of constant surveillance, Nikita was taken off probation. I was re-instated at my former status as a level five operative. A year later, Nikita asked for a promotion for me from the Board, and it was granted. Currently, I am Second in Command of Section One. And so it has been for the past three years. Nikita and I, side by side, partners in all areas, lovers and husband and wife, leading the Section through a new era.
Much change has occurred in the time I've been away. Operatives are now allowed a mandatory four day leave every month. There is less surveillance during downtime. The pilot program that was started by George years ago to test the ability of operatives to live on the outside is being broached again, hopefully this time with success. Many other changes have occurred since I left all those years ago, too numerous to name. Suffice to say, Section One is all the better for it, and Nikita. She has fought hard for the privileges we once would have thought a long distant dream, unattainable and out of reach.
Since I've come back, a part of me that was missing is now back, the part of me that was here at Section. Nikita is the woman I have loved on some level since her first days at Section. She is one of two bright lights in my life. But even now, with the woman I love at my side, I still yearn to see my son, my Adam. Although he is grown, I still fear an enemy of Section's finding him. Using him to get to me and Nikita. Because since we have reunited, we have become a force to be reckoned with, even more feared than Operations and Madeline in their day. With my knowledge of tactics and Nikita's logic, we have taken out every organization or criminal Section One has set its sights on. The Board has noticed our success rate and constantly monitors our progress.
Given the numbers, if we continue like this, we could probably rise in the ranks and become head of the Board, which was formerly known as the Center. Mr. Jones must be smiling smugly wherever he may be. His daughter and her lover are the most powerful force even Mr. Jones' superiors and colleagues have ever seen and are on the fast track to power. Whether that power is wanted is another question. Nikita and I have discussed it intensely. Late night conversations in bed have yielded a conclusion that given the chance, we would leave the Section and return to live with my son, raise our family. A pipe dream. If dreams were money, we'd live like kings.
To even think that the leaders of Section One would be allowed to leave is asking to be canceled. Such a supposition demands a trust in people who would gladly terminate the one couple in all the Sections who could take them down single-handedly. Nikita and I are biding our time. Someway, somehow, we will find a way out. If not directly, if not by leaving Section completely, then by rising in the ranks to full power and be able to control our own destinies. For almost twenty five years Section One has held us captive in one way or another. Be it now or down the road, we will get what we deserve.