Author's note: My second story! Hope you enjoy. I might add more depending on the reviews I get, but the story is complete by itself =)
And obviously, I don't own any of the characters etc etc.

"Well, I guess that's the difference between us, Michael."

Nikita didn't wait for him to reply before scampering off. If she had, she would have seen his eyes flicker for a brief moment, before resigning themselves back into their usual stoic gaze.

It had only been 6 months since Nikita had been brought to Division, but it was obvious that she fit right in with all the other recruits. Excelling rapidly, she was gaining the attention of everyone around her, especially from Michael. Even from her first day, there was some sort of electricity between the two of them. Neither had formally acknowledged it. Neither had any plans of doing so any time soon. They knew the rules – "Division doesn't allow relationships." Michael felt as if that was his new personal mantra, simply due to the fact that every time he saw Nikita he had to repeat that to himself over and over again. He wondered if she knew how he felt, or still, if she felt the same way.

"She's a recruit, you're an agent. Get it together Michael!" He would say to himself, whenever he caught himself thinking about her (which was often).

"He's Michael. It's his job to care about the recruits, all of us, not just me..." Nikita would tell herself at night before she slept. In her heart, she knew the truth. Michael didn't care about her because she was a recruit. He cared about her because he loved her, and she was afraid to admit that she loved him too.

They sparred all the time, both physically and verbally. The former of which they did openly in the training hall, and the latter of which they did somewhat more privately. Though they would never admit it, their verbal jousts with each other were the highlights of both their days. He loved the way she boldly teased him. She loved the way he made her feel like the only person alive. They bounced off each other so seamlessly, it was like watching a verbal ping-pong match.

Things had been rocky since she had come back from her first mission. Michael knew she was upset, but it wasn't his fault. He didn't choose the mission for her, and he certainly didn't think she should punish him by not speaking to him. Seeing her so miserable, as well as not being able to talk to her, was definitely taking a toll on him. He didn't want to admit it, but he was a little bit embarrassed and apprehensive about confronting her – especially since the last time he tried to, they had ended up on her bed, and he unwittingly told her that he owed Percy his life. It just came out of his mouth before he could stop himself. He immediately regretted it, and had walked out, leaving her lying on the bed. His heart tugged at him when he heard her softly call his name out, but he shrugged it off and didn't look back. But after another day of receiving the cold shoulder, he decided enough was enough, and he prepared himself to give her a dose of tough-love.

"Nikita!" She stopped when she heard him call her name, but she didn't turn around. Michael sighed to himself. He knew she wasn't going to make this easy. He walked down the otherwise empty hall towards her.

"Nikita," Michael said her name again, softer and quieter than he had planned, "we need to talk. Now." They were now face to face. She gave him an icy glare, "About what? How we let an innocent man die? Victor Han is dead because of me Michael, because of me. What else is there to talk about?"

He sighed in frustration. He grabbed her arm roughly, and pulled her into the nearest room – the computer lab.

"Listen to me Nikita. You need to get your act together right now, because if Division thinks that you're not able to complete your job, you'll be cancelled. Do you understand that?"

"I'd rather be cancelled than have to kill innocent people..."

"Victor Han wasn't an innocent man. He was a very bad man, in fact. You have to trust us Nikita. Percy may not tell us the reason, but that doesn't mean that there isn't one, for every job we do."

"Yeah, I bet there were several millions of reasons for –"

"I'm serious, Nikita. I can't protect you forever. Do you want to be cancelled?"

"Honestly, I don't care. I'm technically already dead anyways, aren't I? I have nothing to live for anyways." She stared at him with such a cold gaze that he thought he might shiver.

"You think you have nothing to live for? You have me." Michael rasped at her. He was angry at her, angry for not realizing that he needed her to be alive. Nikita was shocked by his response. They locked eyes with each other, not moving, and unsure of how to proceed. She could feel his breath on her lips, and he could feel hers. She broke their gaze and looked down. Michael took a step back. They looked at each other again, and she nodded at him. Birkhoff suddenly appeared in the room, and told Michael that Percy was requesting his presence.

***** 1 Month Later *****

This was her very last day as a recruit. Nikita was finally graduating. Michael felt a bittersweet mix of emotions. He wasn't quite ready to let her go, but he knew she was ready. After their little "moment" in the lab, she had turned things around, and Percy was convinced she was ready to be promoted to Agent status.

"Congratulations, Nikita." He allowed himself to half-smile when he said this. She looked at him and said thanks, but he could tell she didn't really mean it. She looked sad. She sensed what he was thinking, "Don't get me wrong Michael, I'm happy to be leaving, but it just means more killing."

"Most people get used to it." He lied to her. It didn't get easier, and he had never gotten used to it, but he wanted her to believe he had.

"Well, I guess that's the difference between us, Michael."