The Love Thieves

Setting: This is most easily placed in midseason one.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my good looks. Nikita, Michael and the rest belong to Warner Brothers/USA etc. Rated R – for violence, sexual content and language.

Note: I realize that Madeline is a bit out of character, there is a reason for that… however, I have done my outmost best to get the other characters down as accurately as possible. Hope I didn't disappoint…also I am no grammar wiz but I spell check like no one's business… if you want to beta for me… please be so kind as to introduce yourself, thanks.

Michael and Nikita risk death, torture and a disapproving Operations for each other

If you die, you said

So do I, you said

And it starts the day you cross the line

Tell me I'm forever yours

And your forever mine

Forever mine

- The Cure

Chapter One

Love Under Duress

"This isn't going to be easy…" Those words came in went as she struggled to regain consciousness. How trite, they had seemed then, she had been a fool. After all she had done, seen and been through, she hadn't believed that they were going to die, not now, not ever.

"I love you," She whispered in between moans and the man beside her, bloodied and beaten could only lay his hand on her feverish brow and echo the same. It was too late now, they were done for and she might never regain consciousness long enough for him to tell her how he felt. How in the years past, he had ached for her, longed for her, and loved her, in silence, in shame. He was sorry that it was to end this way and now at the end of all things, he could right no wrongs. He could only sit and hope there was still enough time to let her know, all she was and all she had been to him in the darkest days of his life. It was she who was his one and only, his only reason for living – for caring on when all had seemed lost and unchangeable and he loved her for that.

"This isn't going to be easy," Madeline said with her customary air of nonchalance as a bored Nikita and an ever-present Michael listened as she debriefed them on their next assignment.

"I do not expect failure on this one, it's a simple enough task, you go in together, blow up their mainframe and get out – end of story - you have four hours."

"Or –" Nikita said raising an eyebrow over one of her expressive blue eyes. Michael shot her a quick look, which she ignored as usual.

"Or – you answer to the man upstairs, Nikita." Madeline said with a small grin. "Understand?"

Nikita nodded.

"Is that all?" Michael asked.

"That is all…"Madeline said rising and dismissing them both.

Nikita got out of her seat slowly as Michael came over.

"You look a bit peaked, Michael, frightened?" Nikita teased. Michael looked away and then back to her, there was that pause again, the one that always caught the air between them electric. There was another pause.

"Nikita, I have misgivings about this mission" Michael said slowly, "be careful."

"I," she said with a flourish, "am always careful."

She slid her sunglasses from her head and gave him a quick pat on the shoulder. It was with that and another cheeky grin that she turned away from him and started walking away. He stood there a moment watching her leave. He felt his hands began to shake ever so slightly; there it was again, that tremble he always felt when she was near. He hated himself for it, for this hopeless wanting of what was an impossible to have. This burning – this need for a woman, who he was all but sure, hated him.

It looked like an ordinary run down warehouse, boarded up and in an awful section of town, right on the outskirts of an inner city slum. Michael and Nikita stood, clad in all black, ready to get in and get out without a hitch.

"Birkoff," Nikita whispered into her headpiece to the teenage computer expert back at section.

"Yes," came back a voice.

"Are we clear?" She asked as Michael met her eyes, she looked away, surveying the scene.

"Yeah, home clear – two armored vans left about two hours ago, there is some security left behind, looks like five or six, tops; but you two can get passed easily."

"Cool," Nikita said as Michael gestured for her to follow him. They moved stealthily, on silent feet through the cover of dark, ducking behind abandoned cars, brick piles, they moved slowly and with precision.

They found a window on the bottom floor and Michael set about creating a hole large enough for them to squeeze through. It was only a matter of minutes before he was removing a circular piece of glass and setting it carefully against the wall of the warehouse.

He helped lower her down and as she stood getting her bearings, he came in after her.

In the distant, they both heard a low hum, signaling them to the direction of the massive computer mainframe they had to blow.

"Like cake," Nikita said and Michael did not reply. There was danger in the air and he could sense it. He watched as Nikita sauntered into the room ahead and before he could call to her to stop, he heard her cry out and then something with the force of a freight train slammed into the back of him and all went dark.

He woke to someone splashing a bucket of ice cold water on him, snapping to he took in the scene around him and saw that both himself and Nikita were tied up and being held in a small windowless room with a number of armed goons and small, sheepish looking fellow wearing a yellow blazer.

"I am Morris Spencer," the man told Michael in a raspy voice.

"Who might you be?" Michael looked away, saw that Nikita was unharmed; inwardly he breathed a sigh of relief. There was a pause.

"You won't tell me?" The man said as he walked over to Nikita who was struggling against her restraints. Morris ran a finger over her defiant chin.

"Your friend is quite the beauty, isn't she?" He asked with a wry grin and Michael chose not to respond. Morris leaned over and planted a large wet kiss on Nikita. Nikita pulled away from him, which had him laughing.

"You might think I am nothing to look at, a nerd if you will," Morris said with a wide sweeping gesture.

"Yet, I am a ruthless man, I want a name and you will give it to me or you two will know pain like you have never known it before, is that clear?"

"You won't get a thing from either of us," Nikita shouted, "You're wasting your time." Morris smiled and turned towards her.

"Is that so my dear?"

Nikita gave him a cocky grin, "that is so," she said.

"Hmmm, will see…"

He gestured to one of his goons, who came over and grasped Nikita by her hair, twisting her head back. Michael suddenly felt overcome with emotion. He wanted to kill them all and yet, he wanted Nikita safe and with that thought in mind, he began to speak and Nikita catching him; shouted with her every breath.

"Don't you tell him a goddamned thing!" Morris, seizing the moment, nodded to his goon to release Nikita and turned his attentions to Michael.

"Are you willing to talk?" Michael turned his head away and willed himself to appear indifferent.

"You didn't like us hurting your pretty, blonde friend, did you?" Michael choked back his fear not for himself but for the woman, who was his only reason for living and she didn't even know it, never would.

"So just tell us who you two work for or…" His mealy black eyes met Michaels.

"Or what?" Michael finally responded.

"You know what?" Morris said as a man with brass knuckles walked over to Nikita and slugged her hard in the gut, she cried out in pain and slumped over.

"No matter what…" she managed to choke out and Michael understood, she didn't want him to crack, not for her. He was in awe of her as he always was; she was strong, so brave. He loved the fact that she had a spirit that refused to be crushed.

Michael tried not to show any emotion, but there was a flicker and Morris saw it.

"Is she your girlfriend, wife, are you sleeping with her?

"No." Michael said softly as the man hit Nikita again, this time in the face, which slammed her back into the wall, there was blood now and he wondered how much more of this would go on before both Morris and his men realized they wouldn't break.

"But you wish you were…right?" Morris said with a perverted smile.

"You're wasting your time," Michael said in a heated whisper, "Do you honestly think I care what you do to her?"

"You're bluffing…" Morris said, " I can sense these things after all I am a bona fide genius, my friend."

Michael turned away and as he did he saw that Nikita had blissfully passed out. He was glad for he didn't want her to see what was to follow as a man with a maniac grin came up beside him carrying a pair of wire cutters.

"Tell me are you willing to lose parts of your body over this?" Morris asked and Michael gathering every bit of his strength, nodded, "It seems that way," he said as the cold steel closed around the index finger of his left hand. Morris nodded to one of his men and then there was pressure and more pain then even he was prepared for…

Nikita woke, with a nagging ache in her body, her head felt as if it was on fire. It took her a moment for her head to clear, to get her bearings and then through the dusty gloom, she realized she was in a basement cell of some sort. She dragged herself to the wall with a heavy groan, leaning back into it, she tried breathing but found her lungs screaming in agony when she tried.

What had happened… and then it started coming back to her, the beating, the torture and Michael…

"Nikita," she heard Michael's voice in the dark and turned to it.

"Michael," she whispered, suddenly hopeful. He had been standing against the bars, looking, trying to figure out if they were coming back – if there was a way, someway…

He hurried towards her, sunk down to his knees and cupped her face in his hands. She was awake! She reached for him, tightening her hands on his shirt; she rested her face against his chest, gasping for breath. She tried looking at him, through the gloom and saw that he was bloodied; his lip slit open and caked with blood, there was an angry gash on his forehead.

He was a mess, as she knew she must be and it was then as she reached for his hand that she noticed the rag wound tight around his left hand. His index finger, they had cut it off, anger surged through her as he slid his hand away from her, into the dark, as if ashamed, she felt sadness so deep and profound, she thought she might die from it.

"They cut off your finger," she whispered.

"Yes," he replied. "Were you afraid?" she asked in a small voice and he answered her as honestly as he could, "Yes but only for you…"

Her heart contracted slightly and she realized that she could no longer deny what she felt for him, she loved him and she knew as she had always known that he loved her too.

"Will die won't we?"

"Yes." Michael said in a heavy voice.

She digested this news, calmly and then she spoke.

"You know…never in my life, even after section, I never expected it to end like this…"

It was then that she realized he was crying and the fact that he even could was amazing to her – she did not know he was capable of such real human emotions, so much so that she momentarily forgot her fear.

She reached up and with a long finger; she traced it down his face, catching his tears.

"You're crying," she whispered. There was silence.

"It appears that way," he said. She slowly turned around, ignoring the pain in her ribs, in her heart as she took his face in her hands and lowered her lips to his, cracked and bleeding.

He reached for her, held her…He caught her face as she pulled back and searching his eyes, she saw him struggling to speak…

" Nikita, I love you…

She felt at last a glimmer of hope, of purpose. Her heart breathed a sigh of relief as she reached for him in the dark and pulled him near.

"I know," she replied.

"They are going to die." Madeline said angrily as she sauntered into Operations office and slammed her hands down on his desk. He looked up at her, with a sly grin. "You want me to send someone in after them, is that it?" She stood back and met his eyes with a hard stare.

"Yes," she replied.

"Risk the lives of countless operatives for two, are you crazy?" He asked her rising from his seat.

"Not last time I checked." She answered.

He sighed and shook his head and turned his back to her.

"No," he said

"What do you mean, no…"

"There a liability and you know it!"

"There two of the finest…"

Operations turned back to her and saw the anger blazing her cheeks.

"They are also in love with each other and that is a problem."

"No – that is not the problem…you are, now fix this or…"

"Or what," Operations countered.

"Or I go in there myself."

There was a heavy pause and Operations slowly came towards her and took her face in his hands, kissed her. "Madeline…"

She turned her face from his and there was a pause.

"Make it happen," she said in a cool whisper, pulling away from him, he paused a moment, took her in and then without another word she hurried to the door and out of his office, slamming it firmly behind her.

It was late when they came back and pulled Michael from her and she watched helplessly as he was dragged away. She scrambled after him but they slammed the door on her but not before he mouthed the words, I love you…

She retreated backwards into the dark, pulled it around her, somehow they would make it through – she could not lose him not now and not ever. She wasn't letting go that easy.

This was the real deal – a once in a lifetime kind of love and he wasn't getting away from her that easily. She would crawl through heaven and hell for him – they didn't know her or him. They were born survivors and this wasn't the end. In her heart she knew that this was only the beginning.

It was later that night when Morris himself came to her and having someone open the door to her cell, he wandered in full of cocky assurance.

"You are looking a bit haggard, my dear." Nikita struggled to her feet and with a show of anger, spat on him. He reached into his pocket with a chuckle and wiped at his face with a hanky he had buried in there.

"Your spunky…I like spunk." He said as he advanced on her.

"I mean honestly I'm impressed…"

"Good for you," she said her voice a breath of fiery heat and he laughed.

"Your friend, he's got nerve…why…we broke both legs…cut off another finger and still he didn't crack…now let me ask you something, are you as tough sweetie?"

He did not see the hard glare in her luminous blue eyes nor did he figure her strength had grown ten fold since Michael had declared his feelings for her. He raised the gun he held, pointed cold deadly metal at her and gave her a small smile.

"Well are you?" he asked again and with a cool nonchalance she raised her eyes to him.

"Tougher," she said with a smile.