Forgetting Josephine

Chapter Two: Preparing for the Lion's Den

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As promised, a new chapter!

Previously:

"But you know what? You are her handler. That's why you'll be running this Op and briefing her about the specifics," Amanda said with a vicious smile, holding out a file to Michael.

In that instant, it took every shred of Michael's self control not to kill Amanda, right there. He didn't touch the file.

"What's wrong, Michael?" Amanda prodded, the corners of her lips curving up into a smirk. "She's just an agent. Isn't she?"

He had no choice. He ripped the file out of Amanda's hands, storming out of Amanda's office. Could he appeal to Percy about this? No, that would only arouse suspicion. Was there any way he could get someone else for this mission? With a sinking heart, he opened the file. The mission was going live tomorrow morning. That barely gave her enough time to prepare, let alone give him time to find a replacement.

With a feeling of dread washing over him, he headed over to Nikita's apartment.

Michael stood outside Nikita's apartment. Her tracker said she was here, but she wasn't answering the door. He tried calling her one last time before using the key under the mat and letting himself in.

"Nikita?" he said, walking in to her living room. There, curled up in a ball and wrapped in his coat, was Nikita, in the deep stages of REM sleep.

Michael couldn't help but smile. She was just too damn cute when she was sleeping. She was peaceful and vulnerable, a complete contrast from the strong, feisty Nikita he knew.

Wanting her to get as much sleep as she could before she was forced out into the field again, Michael went to her kitchen to make some Earl Gray tea- her favorite.

It felt oddly intimate, being in her apartment uninvited. He'd been here before, but this time, it felt like he was looking into something much more personal. She was good at putting up defenses, but the apartment was a window into the soul of the true Nikita. There was a yoga mat and a collection of candles in the corner of the living room. Everything was neat and sparsely decorated. Deceptively straightforward and never revealing too much: just like Nikita herself.

As the tea was brewing, he felt his eyes wander to the only closed door in the apartment. Her bedroom. He glanced back at her delicate sleeping figure, and then back at the door, but he stayed in the kitchen. Somehow, the simple boundary seemed forbidden to him.

"Michael?" Nikita asked groggily from the couch, surprise coloring her voice. Her hair was messed up in a way that Michael found ridiculously attractive in a woman who never once appeared disheveled.

He poured her a glass of tea and sat next to her on the couch, handing her the teacup. She stopped clutching the jacket and a blush spread across her cheeks as she took the cup from him.

"I meant to return your jacket," she said, handing it out to him.

"Keep it. I have others," he said, a small half smile on his lips.

Nikita stared at him for a moment before draping the jacket around herself and taking a sip of her tea. She seemed bewildered. Somehow, that made her that much more endearing to him.

And then, he remembered why he had to be there, and his smile disappeared. Nikita waited patiently.

"Nikita, Amanda has assigned you a new mission," Michael said, avoiding her eyes.

"What kind of mission?" Nikita asked, dreading the answer. Her teacup shook just a little as she placed it on the side table.

Michael took a deep breath, cursing Amanda with every bone in his body. "Another seduction mission," he said quietly. He didn't look up at first, but when he finally met her large brown eyes, a tiny piece of him died. Her face had gone pale, and she looked like she had disappeared to another time, nightmares playing in her head, over and over and over.

"You can tell Amanda that I'm not going," she said, fighting to keep her voice even. "I'm not ready to become another Josephine."

The words cut deep as Michael remembered his promise. "I can't stop her."

"Can't you?"

"She already thinks-" Michael cut himself off, suddenly realizing what he was about to say.

"Thinks what?" Nikita challenged.

"Amanda has her suspicions that you and I are more involved than we ought to be," he said.

"Are we?" Nikita asked, her voice softening.

Michael looked back down at the file folder in his hands. "We should go over the specs."

"Amanda sent you to do that too?" Nikita asked, realizing that this was his punishment for speaking out.

"Yeah. The mission goes live first thing in the morning. We don't have much time to prepare."

A mischievous glint flashed in Nikita's eyes. "What kind of preparation did you have in mind?"

"Not that kind," Michael answered reflexively, but Nikita reveled in the way his eyes lingered on her. His heart beat just a bit faster, and he opened the file.

He handed a picture to Nikita of a man in his late twenties with boyish good looks and an arrogant expression. Nikita disliked him immediately.

"What's the time frame for this mission?" she asked, steeling herself for his response.

"Two months."

Nikita closed her eyes, trying to keep herself calm. She refused to fall apart in front of Michael.

"There's no other way?"

Michael shook his head. "Trust me, if there were, you wouldn't have to do this."

"It's fine," she said, trying to keep her tone casual, "it's not like I haven't whored myself out for Division before."

Her offhanded remark disturbed Michael. "Nikita," he said, his heart aching, "don't think like that."

"What, you want me to pretend that I actually want to have sex with these money launderers and murderers? You want me to tell myself that I'll enjoy it? If I tell myself enough lies, will you finally be able to sleep at night?"

She turned away from him, her delicate mouth quivering. She wouldn't fall apart in front of him. She wouldn't.

"Nikita," he whispered, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't!" she said, recoiling away from him and jumping off the couch. "You're just like Amanda, expecting me to be grateful. Well you know what? I'm not. Not for this life."

"I'm not expecting you to be grateful!" Michael said. "But some things are just out of your control. You have to accept that."

Nikita shook her head. "I can't."

They stood like that in Nikita's living room, tensed for a fight. And then, Michael did something Nikita didn't expect. He picked up the file and said: "Alright. I'll tell Percy that you can't do this mission."

And he headed for the door.

That's it? Nikita thought. That wasn't so- wait. If Percy found out that Michael couldn't control his recruit, she would be canceled, and Michael- she didn't want to know what might happen to him. As much as these kinds of missions killed a tiny piece of her heart, she couldn't bear something happening to Michael.

"Wait," she said, grabbing Michael's arm as he walked by her, "I'll do it. Stay and brief me on the details?"

Michael nodded, following her back to the couch, reopening the file. Nikita was much stronger than he gave her credit for, but every agent had their breaking point. He just hoped this mission wouldn't be hers. No: he would do everything in his power to make sure it wouldn't be.

He wouldn't let anyone break her.

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