AN: Hi! Sorry, I haven't updated in a while... still hope you enjoy! Please read and review! :)


Michael grunted as the cool metal sliced through his cheek once again. The prissy British girl was a lot stronger than he had expected. She stood in front of him, her pale biceps gleaming in the dark light. Spitting blood onto the floor, he glared balefully up at Victoria.

"It's useless, you may as well kill me now," he snarled at her.

"You know, I didn't attain my position in Daddy's drug empire by surrendering," she said, calmly fishing out a handkerchief and wiping blood off her brass knuckles. "I control practically all of England. You'd be surprised at how many of the royals are actually druggies."

She twirled a lock of hair absentmindedly, gazing at him with her glacial blue eyes. After a few more tense minutes she finally broke the silence. "Who do you work for? And what do you know about me and my life?" she prodded doggedly.

"You wouldn't know them even if I told you," Michael replied. "But I do know that you're a prudish, fussy, little bitch."

She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, you're going to need a better insult than that."

"Why don't I ask you some questions?"

"Fire away," she responded, waving one hand lazily in the air.

"How'd you figure it out?" He lisped slightly, the blood in his mouth interfering with his tongue and clear speech.

"Easy," she replied. "Half of my training to take over Daddy's business involved sniffing out idiots like you. And the girl you're with is way out of your league."

"And Austin is way out of yours."

Immediately, her eyes narrowed and she unleashed a stinging slap across his cheek. After releasing another succession of punches to his face, she finally sighed. "You're right, this is useless. And I'm bored."

She walked to the doorway of the hut and shrieked an order to the two bodyguards still waiting outside. They reappeared inside and dragged Michael to the back of the room. Yanking off his pants and shirt, they forced him into a scuba suit. Grabbing his armpits, they ventured outside, squinting against the bright sunshine. Victoria was waiting in a motorboat, dressed in a similar outfit, with her blonde hair pulled up into a ponytail.

"Hurry up," she barked.

Michael was tossed into the boat and tied to a chair next to Victoria's. A cinder block was fastened to his foot with metal chains. He sucked in a quick breath, already anticipating his eventual death. Expertly piloting the craft into open waters, Victoria secured an oxygen tank to herself and to Michael. They were alone in the middle of the ocean.

"It truly was nice meeting you, Michael," she finally said. He highly doubted that. Before he could respond with a sarcastic reply, she continued. "I wanted to take you to a boat that's on the bottom. My father and I sent it and its owner down there when he stood in our way."

He was surprised the sun didn't shrink away from her glacial smile. It felt as if his innards were knotting themselves and tugging to be free. As she pushed him over the side, swiftly following, he only hoped that Victoria wouldn't target Nikita next.

Immediately, he plummeted down, the intense weight of the cinderblock dragging him frighteningly fast. It landed on the ocean floor, sending a spray of sand up. To his right, Victoria landed gracefully, a divers dagger pointed at his back. Waving her arms to the right, she jabbed him in the ribs and he winced, feeling the blade slice through fabric and into his skin. They approached the wreck, Victoria swimming elegantly, him heaving at his enormous burden.

The boat loomed ahead of them, though it hardly resembled one. It had been smashed into three large pieces, each enveloped in swathes of barnacles. Seaweed wound around it and schools of silver fish darted through the rusted wreckage. It was beyond intimating and the pure pinnacle of madness.

He turned to see Victoria, floating gently above him, out of his reach. Pointing at the wreck, then at herself, she mouthed, I win. Silver bubbles exploded out of her mouth and her blue eyes crinkled up as she laughed demonically. Suddenly her mouth widened and she began to struggle furiously, hands clawing at her neck. After several more minutes, her body stiffened and began to jerk violently, before slowly falling limp. He saw a flash of silver and red leave her throat and her body fell away, revealing Nikita. His gift to her was dangling in her fingers, throwing off tiny glints of light. The rage in her eyes when she faced Alexandr back in Italy was nothing compared to the murderous hatred he saw now.

She swam over to Michael and stuck her fingers into the metal chains, effectively loosening them. Grabbing Michael, she towed him over to the wreckage. He tried wrapping his arms around her, but she pulled away, pointing at the timer on his oxygen tank.

Three minutes left.

Running her hands down the chain, she fingered a rusty link with a split down its middle. Snatching an enormous angled piece of wood from the decapitated boat, she levered it against the chain, forcing the metal bolts in the wood to grate against the shackles. Yanking Victoria's oxygen tank off of her back, she slammed it into the wood, causing the nails to drive themselves against the weak link in the chain, effectively snapping it. Hoisting Michael against her, she swiftly kicked off from the ocean's bottom. Her eyes widened as she watched his slowly drifting closed from lack of oxygen. With super-human strength she lashed her feet out furiously, propelling them to the surface. Keeping his hand, she clambered into Victoria's boat before leaning out and heaving Michael in. Carefully, she tipped his head against the side of the craft before smacking him hard on the back. A stream of water laced with blood came out and he coughed violently, his entire frame shaking. After he was finished, Nikita pulled him towards her, pressing his head to her chest. Softly crooning to him, she laid a kiss on his forehead.