Paradise Lost

Chapter 4: Love Over Duty

Receive thy new Possesor: One who brings

A mind not to be chang'd by Place or Time

The mind in its own place, and in itself

-Milton, Paradise Lost

They didn't sleep much that night, for various reasons.

Nikita disentangled herself from Michael's warm body, and spent the rest of the night until dawn up with Birkhoff, trying to triangulate where Alex's new apartment could be. They spent four hours combing traffic cameras and searching for Alex's possible aliases in apartment listings before they found something.

"Thanks Nerd," Nikita said, flashing him a tired smile.

"You can thank me by letting me sleep," he said, crumpling up his Red Bull can and tossing it into the growing pile next to his desk.

Nikita yawned from her seat in the swivel chair next to Birkhoff. The reddish sunrise had just begun to flood the room, and both the color and the passing of time made her uneasy.

"Or maybe you should be the one to hit the hay," said Birkhoff, watching her eyes flicker warily around the room, as if she was disoriented.

Nikita looked straight at Birkhoff, and said: "I can sleep when I'm dead." And walked towards her and Michael's bedroom to get changed.

Of course, Birkhoff thought to himself, Nikita would trivialize her fate. She may not be fearless, but she doesn't let that stop her from taunting the forces at play.

And with that, he downed two 5-hour energy drinks and two shots of espresso. Sleep was no option when it was up to him to save Michael and Nikita- as usual- by finding a way to duplicate the box.

…

Michael awoke in a panic. Nikita's side of the bed was cold, and he was alone. His heart dropped. Did Percy...?

His thoughts were cut off by a slender figure quietly opening the door and stepping into the ray of blood-red sunlight seeping in from behind the curtains.

"Michael, what's wrong?" she asked, sitting down next to him on the bed, his arms automatically finding their way around her, her head resting against his bare chest, her large, concerned eyes looking up at him. She was wearing black tights and one of his shirts and looking beautifully disheveled.

He didn't want to tell her that he was afraid of losing her. He didn't want to add to the burden she carried. But still, he would tell her anyways, because he wasn't sure how much time they had left.

"I love you, Nikita."

She looked up at him, a smile lighting up her face. "You know, if I didn't know better, I'd say that you're just trying to get into my pants."

He laughed and just pulled her closer to him, afraid of letting her go.

…

When they left for Alex's apartment a little after 6AM, Michael insisted on driving. Nikita's usual calm was frayed from her restless night and the fact that she was putting her trust in Alex not to tell Division, not to warn Amanda, and to go along with their plan.

Nikita skipped through the radio stations, turning the dial round and round until Michael had to put a hand on hers.

"Relax, Nikita."

Nikita looked up at him, her soft lips pursed. "Do you think she'll listen to us? Do you think she'll help?"

"Why wouldn't she?"

…

Alex trudged through the white hallways of Division, her head pounding and her clothes smudged with ash. She smelled like gunpowder and felt like hell, having just returned from a simple overseas recon mission that had turned into a firefight. Alex and Sean had barely escaped with their lives.

Sean was waiting for her by the elevator. He was already cleaned up and dressed in his neatly pressed suit, smelling of crisp aftershave and a dose of caffeine running through his veins. He dangled her car keys from his fingers.

"Why do you have my keys?" she demanded, her speech just barely slurring, her head feeling like the inside of her skull was being pounded by a swinging hammer.

"Why, you're in the mood for driving?" he asked, pushing the button and smirking at her.

She glared at him. He was right, and she hated him for that. What right did he have to be put together and unfazed by the twelve hour plane flight on a military fighter jet? The elevator dinged, and she followed him in, tilting her head in a way that was meant to portray superiority, but really just made her look silly. Sean smiled to himself. She's always trying to prove she can take care of herself.

The drive to her apartment was silent, but the quietness wasn't awkward or a void that needed to be filled. It just was. That's how Sean felt with Alex: they operated almost as if they were separate spheres, just existing. That's why the moments he got through to her- about revenge, about Nikita, about Semak- were the most poignant.

Sean stopped in front of her apartment building, pulling in front of one of the parking meters and turning the car off.

Alex blinked several times before Sean opened her door for her. She stepped out, confused. "How are you getting back to Division?" she asked groggily. "It's not like you can hail a cab."

A faint hint of a smile ghosted across his mouth. "'Where to?' 'Oh, you know, the closest secret underground black ops organization from here.'"

Alex laughed. She laughed. The sound surprised her, and she fell silent. When was the last time someone had made her laugh?

Sean watched her expressions, changing like a kaleidoscope of emotions. Every time their spheres touched, he saw a new side of her.

"Let me walk you up to your apartment. I'll call someone to pick me up."

Alex nodded, the world feeling hazy around her. She needed sleep to the point where she wouldn't rule out accidentally walking into the wrong apartment. Sean held the door open for her, and they headed up to the apartment.

…

Alex wasn't at her apartment when Michael and Nikita arrived.

"It's too risky to stay and wait," Michael said.

Nikita held up a cell phone. "Let me just leave this here for her." She hid the burner phone in the bedroom lampshade, just like old times.

Nikita hoped that someday, things could be mended with Alex. That she would understand the extent to which Division corrupts, how it warps the people it controls. Nikita should have remembered that when she agreed to insert Alex into Division. She should have said no.

"Ready?" Michael asked from the doorway of Alex's bedroom, and Nikita nodded. She followed Michael to the kitchen.

…

Alex handed Sean the key, and he slid it into the door, turning the handle.

On the other side stood two of the most lethal threats to National Security to Sean's knowledge.

He drew his gun and fired.

…

A/N: Dear wonderful readers: don't forget to review! Your reviews are the Dove Chocolate my creative storytelling machine runs on.