"What the hell were you thinking drugging me like that", Michael bust through the doors of their temporary hideout with Nikita trailing behind.

"I was trying to protect you", she said, trying to keep the edge of pleading out of her voice.

"Well, you almost got yourself killed", he retorted angrily.

"Look, avenging Ryan was my mission"

"No, there's no my anymore, there's only ours. As in we share the losses, we share the risk and most of all we share the decisions"

"I was thinking about you"

"No, you made the decision for me", Michael turned to her sharply, cutting her off, "Do you ever stop to think how I would feel if I lost you? God, you have no idea how much you mean to me Nikita. No idea. You ever pull a stunt like that again… we're through"

Nikita fought against the tears coming to her eyes.

"Michael, I'm sorry…"

"You're going to be. Take the guns off of your belt and hand it to me"

"No, Michael, please"

"Nikita, we're partners. Partners treat each other as equals. Tonight, you took that away from me. Now, I'm going to remind you what that feels like"

"Michael"

"Do I need to remind you what happens when you resist?"

"No sir", reluctantly Nikita began to take the gun holsters off of her belt. When it was empty, she removed the leather belt itself and handed it to Michael. Her knees started to shake. Michael hadn't disciplined her since she'd left division, but she remembered the feel of his hand on her bottom like it was yesterday. Well, it was yesterday, but a little love tap every now and again was fun. What he was planning tonight would be anything but.

"Pull down your pants", she obeyed revealing a black satin thong underneath her leather pants. Michael wondered how she went on missions dressed like this. And why? Wasn't it uncomfortable? Not that he minded. She looked damn cute in those leather pants. He brought his mind back to the task at hand, not an easy assignment with Nikita standing in front of him in only a thong and tank top.

"Michael. I'm really sorry. I've learned my lesson, I promise"

"Oh no you don't", he said laughing a little. The look on her face reminded him of training so much. She was in the same predicament almost weekly back then, and she her response had always been the same. He had no doubt she was sincere, but he knew he had to follow through.

"Bend over the table", he said, growing serious and restraining himself from calling her "recruit".

Nikita bent over slowly, hoping that her mind was only building up how much it hurt. She had an incomparable pain tolerance, but for some reason, she was terrified of Michael's spankings. All spankings actually. She'd been graced by Amanda, Percy, even Birkoff in one unfortunate incident. But out of all the discipline sessions she'd had to endure, the one's she dreaded the most had been those with Michael, usually because she knew they were well deserved. It had been years since the last time, though. Sometimes your mind built these things up, and when they actually happened they weren't that…

Agh Oh my god, that was only his hand. He hadn't even gotten to the belt yet, but the sting building in Nikita's bottom told her that this was going to be just as bad as she remembered. If anything, it was downplayed.

Ssss Those same hands seemed so soft yesterday. Today they felt wooden.

Aggh She'd been tortured once. In Budapest. Waterboarding, electric shock, the works. At the moment, she almost wanted to go for a visit.

Oww, Michael I'm sorry.

Michael steeled his heart to her whimpering as he had so many times before. Nikita hated being spanked more than anything in the world, and he knew from experience how bad it could hurt. Years of "personal meetings" with Percy had taught him the technique, and every time he administered discipline, he couldn't help but feel for the girls. How many times had he longed to be getting pulverized by the mafia rather than over Percy's desk? But, as evil as his boss had been, he'd learned from those meetings, and he knew Nikita would learn from this one. He paused for a second and felt her untense under his hand. She'd managed not to cry yet, but he knew she would soon be sobbing.

"We're not done yet, babe. Tell me why you're being punished", Nikita put her head onto the desk when she felt the belt resting on her bottom. This was the worst part.

"Because, I drugged you"

one Sss two Owww three Agh four Okaaaay five Ssss agh six Ahowww

"And why was that wrong"

"Michael, I'm sorry"

"Nikita, we don't want to make this last any longer than it has to", he ran a hand through her hair softly, and let it rest on the table beside her. She put her hand on top of his "Why was it wrong for you to drug me?"

"We're partners", she mumbled into his sleeve.

One Nooo two Owww three Michael I'm four Owwwww I'm sorry five Pleeease six Okaaay seven I eight I nine Owww I learned my lesson ten eleven

"Why else", Nikita was sobbing into her long dark hair, bottom stinging red. Her answer was so garbled Michael could barely make it out, but he understood one word.

"…dangerous…"

"That's right" one Sob two Sob three Sob four Sob, "You put yourself in danger. If I hadn't shown up, you would have been captured, or worse" one Sob two Sob three Sob four Sob

"msoreeeee" one two three Sob

"You do not. Put. Yourself. In. Danger. Are we clear?"

"Ysiiiiiiiiir"

The belt finally ceased its assault and Nikita dove into Michael's arms. Come to think of it, this part of discipline had always been her favorite. The hug afterwards. The rest of Division never did this part. Michael reached down and stroked her bottom as he held her, rubbing out some of the heat and sting. She moaned and laughed a little, tears still wet on her face.

"What?", Michael said, kissing her neck.

"I just realized the bad thing about leaving division"

"What's that?"

"No cameras"