Spoilers for 4x06.
This was supposed to be an angsty one shot about Nikita figuring out what to do with her freedom, but this happened instead. I have loved every moment of this show and I still can't believe that it's all over.
Set just before the last scene of 4x06.
Disclaimer: I do not own Nikita. If I did it wouldn't have been cancelled so soon.
II
When she wakes the morning after their wedding, she is lying in bed with Michael's arms wrapped around her naked body. Nikita picks up Michael's left hand and cautiously examines the plain silver band around his finger. She is half convinced that the ring is going to disappear and she is really still on the run and this a dream or one of Amanda's fucked up hallucinations. This simple piece of jewellery holds so much meaning and so much promise. Never in her life has she imagined that she could have this. She is married to a man who worships her even though she is sure that she doesn't deserve it.
Nikita Mears, foster child, junkie, cop killer, assassin, is a wife.
Nikita bites her lip to contain the laughter that is bubbling in her throat.
She's somebodies wife!
Granted, she is married to the man who taught her how to use a gun and break a man's neck with her bare hands, but Nikita didn't believe that she could be part of something so normal.
She's wanted this for so long. Peace, freedom, normality. Michael. But now that she has them, she has no idea what to do with herself because in the truth of it all, she had never thought that they would get to this stage. Nikita was so sure that one or both of them would die trying to fight the impossible mission that they set themselves on that she didn't let herself consider the fact that they might actually survive and get their happy ending.
But she's here. They're both here. And they're married. Husband and wife.
She's happy. So happy. But there's just one tiny little thing that keeps running through her mind.
She's never been more terrified in her entire life.
She doesn't know how to do normal. She doesn't know how to be a wife. What if he wants to live in the suburbs with babies and a dog and a lawnmower? She doesn't want to live in the suburbs, the baby topic has always been carefully avoided, she likes dogs but doesn't want one and she has never used a lawnmower in her life. Aren't these the kind of lives ordinary people lead? They have jobs, have houses, get married, have babies and join book clubs.
The very idea of it makes her want to eat her own gun.
Which brings her to the conclusion that she's going to be a terrible wife.
"What are you doing?"
Nikita drops Michael's hand in surprise and stares at him with wide eyes.
"I-nothing."
Michael raises an eyebrow in disbelief.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," comes her immediate reply. She forgets sometimes how well he knows her.
Michael stares at her for a moment and suddenly it's eight years ago and she's a recruit and he's her scary mentor and he's trying to get her to talk.
"Nikita," he demands eventually.
"It's nothing-"
"It obviously isn't nothing if you're worrying about it. What is it?"
Nikita pauses. "It's stupid."
Nikita stares at him for a moment in indecision. He's your husband her brain tries to tell her. But most importantly, it's Michael. Michael who has seen her at her best and at her worst. Michael who has seen her rescue hundreds of people and has seen her kill and torture hundreds more. Michael who loves her more than anything in this world and would never judge her, no matter how stupid her thoughts are.
"I'm going to be a terrible wife." The words are thrown out almost without her permission and she can feel the blush staining her cheeks as she sees Michael's brow furrow.
He says nothing for a moment. "What?"
She can see the barely contained amusement on his face and his eyes dance with mirth. She wants to grab the sheets and pull them over her head and pretend that none of this is actually happening but there's no going back now. "I'm going to be a terrible wife. I don't even know how to be a wife or what wives do. I can't cook and I don't ever tidy up and I don't want to live in the suburbs and become a stepford wife and have a bunch of babies and a dog and a lawnmower. I don't even know how to use a lawnmower because you didn't teach us those things in Division. Don't laugh at me Michael!" Nikita jabs him with her elbow but Michael's laughter grows louder. Her cheeks burn as she flings back the sheets and starts to get out of bed.
"Hey, wait a minute." Michael's arms wrap around her and pulls her against his chest. "I'm sorry okay? Where's this coming from?"
Nikita rolls over to face him but averts her eyes from him. "I don't know how to do normal, Michael. I've always been running from something and now that I've finally stopped I don't know what to do. You had a life before Division, I didn't. My version of normal was shooting poison into my veins and figuring out how to get my next fix. I'm finally happy. We're safe and I have you, but I don't know what we do next Michael and it terrifies me." It hurts her pride to say it, but it's true. Tears spring into her eyes and she can almost hear Amanda's voice in her ear telling her that emotions are a weakness, how weak and pathetic she is.
"I can't understand how somebody like you can love somebody like me," Nikita whispers. It doesn't matter that she has taken down Division, Oversight, The Shop. It doesn't matter how many lives she has saved. Deep down, she knows that she doesn't deserve to be happy.
Michael caresses her cheeks. "Nikita, look at me." She doesn't obey right away, but after a moment she looks up at him and hates herself for ruining this morning for them with her stupid fears. There are no traces of laughter on Michael's face as he looks at her, only sadness. "I love you, Nikita. I don't want a house in the suburbs, I don't like dogs, and I don't want somebody to cook and clean up after me. I want you. I want the woman who went up against Division and won. I want the woman who has saved me so many times that I can't begin to count. I would love to have a baby with you someday, but if that's something that you don't want, then I will be happy with just you."
She presses her lips to Michael's and whispers, "Really?"
Michael kisses her harder. "Really."
Nikita smiles almost shyly and asks, "But what do we do now?"
Michael smiles one of his rare smiles, the kind that took her years to see first-hand and always causes something in her stomach to flutter. "Anything. You deserve to be happy Nikita. I love every part of you. I always will."
