I hope you all like this chapter. It took loads of editing, but I hope I did Nikita justice.

Nikita POV:

Nikita and Michael had just arrived back to Division, both exhausted after the last four days. They had traveled to Istanbul to meet with a man named Artur Blok. Blok was Russian, former KGB, turned owner of a free lance angeny. Blok had once infiltrated Gogol, so there had been a chance that he could have some new or even old information on Ari that would help find him. Ryan had received the information from a contact of his and set up the meet. Unfortunately Blok knew less about Ari, then Nikita and Michael. Nikita had felt frustrated with her lack of success in locating either Ari or Amanda. That mad women was trying to teach her some life lessons by harming her family and Nikita wanted nothing more then to get her before she could carry out any of her heinous plans.

Nikita was thinking that they had wasted there time, when Michael received a phone call from Blok. One of Blok's agents, Styles, had tangled with a rouge Division agent about six months ago. How this Styles guy has known his opponent was Division, Nikita didn't know, but she planned to ask him. Instead of returning home as scheduled, they would have to stay in Istanbul for another few hours. It would be worth it, if it led to the capture of one of the Dirty Thirty.

Blok told them to meet Styles in Fes café, located in the Grand Bazaar, at twenty hundred hours.

Nikita and Michael arrived an hour earlier to scope the place out. The Grand Bazaar was one of the largest and oldest covered markets in the world, with sixty-one covered streets and over three thousand shops. It was a hubbub of activity, a perfect place for three spies to meet. Nothing could down here without hundreds of thousands of witnesses. Despite their reasons for being there, Nikita wondered at the sights, sounds and smells that surrounded Michael and her.

"We could come back here on our honeymoon, you know?" Michael whispered in Nikita's ear, nuzzling her neck, his arm wrapped around her shoulder. They had taken a seat in the café at table where they had a full view of the only exits, the entrance and the staff door, their backs against the wall.

"We could," Nikita agreed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Or we could just get a very secluded cabin, in the middle of nowhere, with no internet access or phone reception and spend all our time in bed."

Michael grinned sexily, his eyes crinkling at the corner in the way that Nikita loved. "I have to say that sounds extremely tempting. I don't know if I'll able to hold out until after the wedding. I just might have to kidnap you before hand and have my way with you."

Nikita laughed, her hand running up the inside of Michael's thigh. She also loved with he spoke like that in his rough, gravelly voice. "Keep talking like that and I might not even put up a fight."

Michael's eyes shone with barely suppressed lust. Nikita could also feel the evidence growing as her hand moved higher. "As much as I would love to continue this, I think our man has just walked in."

Just like that Nikita and Michael separated Their professional masks falling into place so fast, that the happy couple persona they had displayed mere moments ago could be considered a figment of the imagination.

Styles, was a barrel chested man, with wide shoulders, dark brown hair and brown eyes. It was hard to put an age on him Nikita would guess he was somewhere in his late thirties. He walked into the café, his eyes scanning the crowd, until they settled on the Nikita and Michael. It was obvious that Styles was a seasoned agent in the way in moved and interacted with his environment. Styles didn't take the chair in front of the couples table, but pulled the chair off to the side so that he was seated beside Michael, his back to the wall and his eyes on the exits too.

"How do you know it was a Division agent?" Nikita was not in the mood for menacing words. She wanted to go home. She wanted to see and talk to Alex, who she hadn't been in contact with in days. She wanted to lock Michael in a room and have her way for a few...days. Lately she'd had no time for any of that. Division was still invading her life and now that she was on the inside it was even worse. She really needed to start prioritizing better.

"Cutting straight to the chase. I like that." Styles cracked his knuckles and sighed. There was a hint of a British accent. "You know I heard about what you're trying to do to Division, bringing in all the rouges. I admire that. People trained to do, the things that we do, especially under Percy's rule…"

"Wait, you knew Percy?" Michael sound as surprised as Nikita felt. "We've never come across your file before."

Styles paused and angled his head toward them, so he could look both of them in the eye. "I did, may the bastard rot in Hell." Styles returned to watching the comings and goings from the doors. "I was trained in Division in the early years of its establishment, but then Percy transferred me to another unit. I was labeled dead and my file destroyed."

Nikita nodded. It sounded plausible. Didn't mean that she trusted him, but she'd take him at his word for now. "The agent?"

"I was in a pub in London, when this woman walks up to me," Styles started, cracking his knuckles again. "She says her name is Kristen and that she's looking for some work. I, of course act dumb, and ask what kind of work she's on about? Eventually we get to the point and she says that she wants some free lance work, any kind. As long as the pay is good. I ask what agencies as she been affiliated with, even though by that stage I've got an inkling. Division, so full of outcasts and criminals gives the agents this particular look about them. It's easy to spot when you've been staring at it in the mirror for so long."

"Is this Kristen still in London?" Michael asked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully

"As far as I know, she's still in that area." Styles stood. Obviously this was the end for share time. "Here's the number she gave me to contact her."

Styles threw down a card on the table and walked out of the café without so much as a goodbye.

"You know I prefer these guys to the charming ones," Michael commented, watching Nikita pick the card from the table. Nikita smiled knowing Michael was referring to Cyrus. "No sweet talking or mind games. Just straight forward information."

Michael phoned Birkhoff and gave him the number to track.

After returning to there hotel and gathering up there things, they hopped on a plane. Ten more hours and they would debrief at Division and head on home.

Now, they were currently unloading their equipment from the back of their SUV when Birkhoff wandered into the garage, an Ipad in his hand. Nikita smiled fondly, Nerd boy never changed.

"Hey Nerd," she called, drawing his attention away from the gadget. Birkhoff grinned, walking over to them.

"Mikey, Nikki, real happy to have you guys back." Birkhoff didn't bother offering to help them unload, but stood watching. Yeah, typical Nerd.

"Any developments while we were gone?" Michael asked.

"No poison gas bombs or anthrax in the post and I'm closing in on the mole," Birkhoff answered, before his expression pinched and he put the Ipad down.

"Nikki, listen." Birkhoff placed his hands on Nikita's shoulders and turned her to face him. For once he sounded serious and that made Nikita instantly worry. Birkhoff didn't really do serious unless, you, it was actually serious. She saw Michael raise his eyebrows, clearly concerned by Birkhoff behavior as well.

"The reason I didn't tell Michael when he called was because I knew you'd worry and there was nothing you could do until you got back."

"Nerd." Nikita tone said 'get to the point'. Maybe Michael had a point about straight forward talking.

"I only found out myself yesterday evening, but Alex caught a really nasty flu and has been sick since the night before last. Owen's been looking after her though, so she's ok. He took her home last night."

Birkhoff explained it all in one breath, eager to get it out. Then he added, "Also office talk has it that Sean and Alex are on the outs and that she's been upset over it for the last couple of weeks.

Guilt instantly washed through Nikita. She knew she been unintentionally neglecting Alex, because she'd been caught up in Michael and all her Division worries. But to know the girl was sick and not being able to be there for her, that gave Nikita the kick in the butt she needed. Alex was important to her, she loved her like a sister and she didn't want to lose her.

And Owen? He was taking care of her? Nikita hadn't been aware that they'd become so close, but it did make sense that they'd gravitate towards each other. Both of them had experienced great loses in their life, they knew what it was like to be lost. They'd also both struggled with addiction, granted it was in different ways, but addiction was addiction. It didn't matter what form it took.

"Get in the car," Michael ordered, gently. "I'll drive."

Nikita really loved that he could read her so well.


When Nikita got to Alex's apartment, she realized she'd forgotten her set of keys. She'd left Michael parking the car, wanting to get check on Alex as soon as possible. She knocked, hoping that wasn't disturbing Alex from sleep. She needn't have worried.

"Nikita, what are you doing here?" Alex smiled warmly, but her skin was pale, there was dark circles under her eyes and she was thinner than Nikita had ever remembered being.

"Oh, honey," Nikita whispered softly, before throwing her arms around the fragile girl. "I'm so sorry that I've been neglecting you lately. I won't let it happen again. I promise. If I do, you have to swear you'll kick my ass for being such a bad person."

Alex laughed lightly, returning Nikita's hug. "Nikita, its ok. I know how mush stress you've been under."

"It's not ok," Nikita denied vehemently. "I should be here for you, when you need me. I haven't even asked what's going on with Sean."

Nikita couldn't see Alex's face, she pulled back slightly so they were looking each other in the eye.

"It isn't just your fault then, Nikita." Alex smiled sadly. "I could have just as easily gone to you, but I wasn't ready to talk about Sean."

"Are you now?"

Before Alex could answer, the elevator dinged signaling Michael's arrival.

"Hey Michael," Alex smiled over Nikita's shoulder. "Come on lets all go inside. Owen's in the kitchen. His probably wondering why we're all standing outside my apartment when there is a perfectly good couch in the living room."