Ch 21 A Hope and A Future

"We'll all be going on vacation soon," Birkhoff stated, meeting Alex's shocked gaze. "Or job hunting, now that I blew Division out of the water."

She stared at him in shock. "What do you mean, you blew Division out of the water?"

"Don't you remember, at the loading dock?" he prompted, distracted by the way she was looking at him, like he was some kind of hero. "I programmed the data dump from there, if I remember correctly."

He could see her mind working back through the rescue, which remained a bit foggy in his own mind.

"You mean you did all that from the security pad?" she choked, clearly impressed. "I thought you just took out the cameras so that we could escape without being seen."

"That too," he nodded, eyeing Michael and Nikita. "I had it set up for weeks, just waiting for the right moment. By the time Amanda was done with me I'd had enough. By now all records from Division's inception til yesterday should have been forwarded to the Justice Department."

"Birkhoff," Nikita stated in amazement, "what are you saying?"

"He turned Division in," Michael said quietly, his eyes narrowed. "How on earth did you manage that?"

The enormity of what he'd done suddenly overwhelmed him, leaving him feeling dazed and adrift. After all, he'd spent most of his adult life with Division. "It's a long story..."

"The Justice Department…" Michael said distractedly, trying to accept the fact that they were exposed. "That means they know about us, and everything we've done…"

"Dear God," Nikita croaked, eyeing Alex. But she leaned toward him, stretching her fingers up along his good arm.

"Hey, you ok?" she asked softly. "You look like you're in pain..."

He sighed with relief, trying to ignore their shocked expressions. "I guess I could use a painkiller," he admitted, watching her unscrew the cap before handing him a pill. Feeling conspicuous he nevertheless took it, washing it down with the rest of the water.

"Dude you can't leave us hanging," Michael laughed tightly, eyeing Nikita. "Come on—spill the rest of the beans cause none of us even had a clue what you'd been planning."

He set the glass down, holding Alex's gaze. "I'm sorry I couldn't say anything," he said gently. "I didn't want you to be compromised while you were still working there."

"It's ok," she nodded, "I understand..."

"But—how long were you planning it, man? And how?" Michael marveled.

Nikita looked amused. "Don't tell us you have a secret contact at the Justice Department."

"Ah, in a way I do," he answered, meeting Alex's gaze once again. "I've been working for them for five years now, after Percy started going south and attracting attention."

"Then this means the black boxes are no longer worth anything!" Nikita stated, her eyes wide.

"That's right," he stated. "Don't worry, the department knows we were all recruited against our will, forced to do what we did under compulsion and threat of cancellation."

"Dude how on earth did you hide that kind of association?" Michael breathed, shaking his head.

"They approached me—trust me, it wasn't my idea," he admitted. "I lived in constant fear of being found out or dropped by the feds cause I just didn't trust them either. I had all kinds of escape routes planned, bags hid in every corner, secret stashes of cash and fake passports—don't even ask."

Nikita smiled, leaning closer to lay a hand on his good arm. "My goodness, Nerd—you've been busy!"

He nodded, relieved but feeling as if he'd betrayed all of them, especially Alex. He eyed her soberly. "The worst thing was hiding it from you," he told her. "A wife should know what her husband is up to,
at least in my book."

Michael leaned forward, pinning him with a suspicious gaze. "How did this all come about?"

"Michael he's exhausted," Nikita waved dismissively. "It really doesn't matter now—"

"No, I'm curious," he insisted, earning a nod from Alex. "Go on."

He took a deep breath, shaking his head. "They jumped me one night when I was on my way home and hauled me into their offices," he stated, feeling the pill begin to work at releasing the iron grip of pain from his hand. "There really wasn't any choice, they were going after Percy no matter what. By agreeing to cooperate with them I'd be off the hook and free from prosecution."

"That's a good deal," Nikita admitted. "I'd have taken it, though the chance of Percy finding you out, or Amanda…"

"Percy suspected I was up to something," he stated, wincing inwardly at the memory of the second whipping. "He realized how opposed I was to joining Division from the beginning."

"So he didn't really trust you either," Michael concluded.

"Nobody trusted me and frankly I felt the same way," he admitted, eyeing Alex again. Until you…

Her gaze intensified and he knew the exact moment when she realized what he was thinking. She relaxed visibly, her fingers gently caressing his wrist under cover of the sleeve of his sweatshirt. His heart pounded in response and he held her gaze. Then Michael cleared his throat.

"Well, I must say it's been interesting," he stated, rising and taking Nikita's hand. "I'd like to hear more, so when you're feeling better we'll all sit down and share a beer while you regale us with the juicy details, how's that?"

"Sounds good," he nodded, eyeing them both. "You have to get goin'?"

"Yeah, we don't want to overstay our welcome," he announced, nodding to Alex as she got up and came to stand by his side, facing them. Taking his good arm, she pressed against his side.

"Thanks for coming," she sighed, eyeing Nikita in particular. "And thanks for your help."

"Don't mention it," Nikita said quietly, moving closer to kiss his cheek. "Take care of yourself, Nerd, ok?"

"Right boss," he nodded, draping his arm over Alex's shoulders. She gripped the back of his waistband, beneath his sweatshirt.

"We didn't use the bed so you don't have to change it," Nikita told Alex, who nodded. "You call us if you need anything, ok?"

Alex nodded. "Ok…thanks for the soup."

"My pleasure," Nikita said huskily, placing a hand on her arm. "When you're both ready to move your stuff out of your apartments let us know. We'll box everything up for you, but we'll need the keys."

"You don't have to do that," she answered, eyeing him questioningly. "What do you think?"

"I think we'll take you up on the offer," he admitted, half lifting his heavy cast. "I don't think I can do much for a while, so I'd appreciate it."

"Keys?" Michael asked, glancing toward his jacket where it lay draped over the bench. "Jacket pocket?"

"Yeah, thanks, man," he breathed, eyeing Nikita. "You too, Niki."

She bit her lower lip. "It's the least I can do," she murmured.

Michael came back, reaching for his good hand and grasping it awkwardly. "Call us anytime."

"Thanks," he replied, watching Alex hand her apartment keys to Nikita. Turning with her, they watched as they toward the door.

"Bye," Nikita waved, locking it behind them. Silence followed their departure. Outside they could hear both cars start up.

Birkhoff glanced down at his wife. "Hey princess," he sighed as she turned into him, hugging his waist as she tucked her face against his neck. He felt her shudder and rested his chin atop her head. "Shhhh… don't cry," he soothed as he held her as best he could.

"I hate seeing you in pain," she choked, lifting her head as tears dampened her cheeks. "I hate that horrible cast and what Amanda did to you. She needs to be punished."

"She will be," he assured her, feeling his own emotions suddenly break loose inside him. She hugged him, burying her face in the side of his collar. He gripped her tightly. "Hey, it's over, ok?" he soothed.

Backing toward the stool, he sat down and pulled her between his knees. She straightened, wiped at her eyes and studied him a moment. Then she pulled his head to her chest, cradling him close as he closed his eyes, inhaling her fragrance and accepting her comfort.

Thank God for her, he thought, gripping her like a lifeline. Pain, anger, betrayal and grief surged within him as he fought breaking down himself. She cried softly for a little while, holding him close and pressing her cheek against his head. Then she shifted her hands to his head, gently guiding it back until she could look into his eyes.

"I love you so much," she said softly, her eyes captivating him. "When I saw you in that chair—"

Her voice broke and he studied her anguished expression, for once unable to speak. He could only guess how bad he'd looked, completely traumatized and having suffered several flashbacks while sitting strapped down to Amanda's chair.

"Thanks for coming for me," he choked, his throat tight. He didn't know how to tell her how much she meant to him, or how much he loved her right at this moment.

She bent to kiss him, her eyes traveling over his features. "You are so worth it," she whispered, gently caressing his cheek.

He held on, unable to speak. All he could do was look into her eyes, into her soul. Finally her expression brightened, and she chuckled softly.

"We make quite a pair, don't we?" she croaked, "two messed up nutcases."

He had to laugh, nodding his agreement. "Yeah, we sure do."

She looked around the kitchen, then at the clock. "It's almost 7…you want anything?"

He glanced toward the stove. "Actually, I am a little hungry."

Her face brightened. "That's a good sign! What would you like?"

He ran a hand over his face. "I don't care—anything."

"Really?" she sighed, disengaging herself. "It should probably be something light…how about scrambled eggs and toast?"

He nodded. "That sounds great—you don't mind?"

She smiled, sliding her hand off his shoulder as she went toward the refrigerator. "No of course not, why would I mind?"

"Because you look pretty wiped out yourself," he replied, watching her open the refrigerator door.

She frowned up at him. "That bad, huh?"

"No, I meant—"

"I'm kidding," she laughed, setting a block of cheese onto the cutting board. "I'm hungry too, so how about I make us a quick dinner and then we catch up on our sleep?"

He eyed her with a sly smile. "Just sleep?"

She paused, a saucy smile lighting her features as she eyed his arm. "Well what do you have in mind?"

He shrugged, smiling back at her. "Whatever materializes."

"Really?" she said thoughtfully, coming closer. "Actually, I'm not that tired even if I look it."

He reached out and grasped her hand. "You know, we haven't been together for a few days, with you going off to the Former Soviet Union and me being tortured and all…"

She curled a hand around his neck and moved close, her lips almost touching his. "You miss me, Daniel?"

He captured her lips, kissing her freely while she clung to him. Suddenly starved for her, he kissed her with mounting energy and desire. She moaned softly as he brushed his fingers down her neck and over her breast, cradling her waist while she stepped between his legs. Leaning into him, she kissed him back and they feasted on each other's love, finally drawing back and reveling in its power.

"God—I've missed you," he admitted, watching her waltz away, throwing him a provocative look over one shoulder.

"About that dinner," she mused, slowly taking down a bowl and taking the eggs and milk from the frig. He watched her every move, enjoying the fact that they were finally alone and he was conscious enough to truly appreciate her. Just looking at her had become his favorite pastime, and judging by the glow in her eyes and her suggestive smile, she liked it when he did so.

"What are you thinking about?" she cooed, breaking the eggs into the bowl and wiping her hands.

He laughed shortly. "You don't want to know."

She smiled, her gaze dropping to his lips. "Try me."

"Well for one thing I was considering how to hold you properly with one arm," he stated. With his hand effectively numbed for now he knew he wouldn't have any pain but the logistics were definitely going to be a challenge.

"I'm sure you'll think of something," she whispered, a suggestive smile playing about her lips. Whipping the eggs and milk with a whisk, she eyed him directly. "If not, I've got a pretty good imagination myself."

He tilted his head, running his gaze down her petite form. "Really? That's comforting."

"You worry too much Birkhoff," she scolded gently, reaching over to turn on the burner. Upon it she placed a nonstick frying pan. He watched as she dropped a spoonful of margarine into it, which sizzled tantalizingly and made his stomach growl in response.

"I know," he sighed, meeting her gaze, "it's a bad habit. Want some help?"

She looked horrified. "Certainly not—you sit there and look sexy while I cook—I need the practice."

He huffed at her label. "You're the sexy one," he argued, thoroughly enjoying their banter. "Although I do feel pretty turned on imagining you cooking with nothing but an apron on."

She gasped in mock offense, facing him with her hands on her hips. "That's pretty bold, Birkhoff—I can tell you're feeling more like your old self."

"Funny, I don't feel myself at all," he croaked, getting up and going to her side. Sliding his arm around her he pulled her close, baiting her with a teasing kiss. "Ah…that's better."

She planted a hand on his stomach, gently guiding him back toward the stool. "You sit and rest."

"Yes, ma'am—but I am pretty hungry."

She poured the egg mixture into the hot pan and looked over her shoulder at him. "Then I'd better be quick at making dinner, hadn't I?"

"I didn't mean food necessarily," he stated, raising his brows suggestively as she laughed.

"We'll see what we can do about both, shall we?" she teased.

"Definitely," he sighed, feeling the brooding darkness and weight of horror lifting from him at last. Watching her drop two piece of pumpernickel into the toaster before she tipped the pan to settle the eggs, he felt content just to watch her.

She turned and eyed him critically, noting his pensive mood. Her smile faded. "You ok?" she asked softly, the warmth in her eyes tugging at his heart.

He nodded. "Yeah…just admiring the woman I love."

She relaxed and smiled, turning her attention back to the pan. "If I don't break these it'll be an omelet, otherwise it's scrambled for dinner."

"Whatever," he sighed, leaning his good arm on the counter.

She glanced up at him with a smile. "Daniel, did you mention something about a vacation before?"

He thought back and nodded. "I believe I did."

She nodded. "I know you were speaking to Michael, but I was wondering… since we are still newlyweds and I'm officially out of work?"

He chuckled softly. "Where would you like to go?"

"Let me see…we obviously can't go far or do much until you get those wires taken out," she stated. "It had crossed my mind that you might have had some ideas, being the master planner you are…"

"Oh I've got a plan," he sighed, admiring her beautiful smile, "but it's a surprise."

She squinted suspiciously at him. "Are you by any chance hinting at a honeymoon, Birkhoff?"

"I am," he admitted.

"But you're not going to tell me where, or when?"

"Nope."

She frowned at him. "Not even a hint?"

He pursed his lips, considering it. "It's someplace warm—how's that?"

"It's a good start," she replied. "Now, when?"

"Well if my recovery goes as planned and given the arrangements I made, a month from now."

She brightened, distracted by the popping up of the toast. Turning off the burner, she reached up and took down two plates. These she set out, adding silver, margarine, ketchup and two glasses of tea which she'd been brewing. Sliding the eggs next to the toast, she placed them before him and came to his side.

He pulled her close as she slid her arms over his shoulder, leaning into his side. "Anything else?" she whispered, her lips close to his.

He stretched his neck and kissed her gently, then again. "How about the Caribbean…"

She squealed with delight and kissed his cheek. "Perfect—I'm satisfied for now," she teased, eyeing the food. She glanced toward the sofa, now bathed in golden light by the setting sun. "Want to retire to the living room?"

"Sure," he breathed, rising slowly and ignoring his throbbing hand. Picking up his plate he followed her. She set everything on the coffee table as he sat down. When she came back with the rest and sat next to him, he leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Thanks sweetheart."

"Don't mention it," she smiled, handing him a fork as they leaned back and gazed out at the golden lit forest before them. Picking up a piece of toast, she bit into it and eyed him happily.

He forked the eggs into his mouth, salivating at texture with just a hint of cheddar on his tongue. He swallowed and nodded. "This is great."

She stuffed a forkful into her mouth and chewed, moaning with pleasure while he watched. He paled, staring at the passionate expression on her face. But she laughed, resting her hand on his knee. "Just getting you in the mood," she explained with a sly smile.

"Great," he choked, waving a piece of toast at her. "Thanks, but I really don't need the help."

"Is that so," she stated with a smug smile, stabbing more eggs with her fork and holding it before him. "Now eat."

He opened his mouth to accept her offering, watching as she put her plate down. "This is delicious."

She leaned her head on his shoulder, sliding her palm down his stomach. "No, you're delicious."

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Come on—I've seen how bad I look."

"You'll recover," she sighed, "and I love you. Now finish up so we can neck."

"Alright," he agreed, shaking his head. "Slave driver."

She giggled, resting her head back on his shoulder. "After I have my way with you, you will tell me all the details about our honeymoon."

He eyed her appreciatively. "Will I?"

"But first we'll have to empty our apartments," she stated, watching him pick up another piece of toast, which she snatched from his hand.

"Ok."

"And you have a doctor's appointment next week."

"And one after that, not to mention occupational therapy."

"That will take about a month," she guessed. "Then we'll be free."

He swallowed the last bit of egg and eyed her intently. "We will need to make a trip to DC..."

She eyed him suspiciously. "What's in DC?"

"My new headquarters," he sighed. "I'll probably get a call for debriefing soon, but will still have to sort through some things with the department."

She looked thoughtful. "I want to hear all about that too…I forgot you still have a job, don't you?"

"Yeah, but it'll be a lot less stress," he predicted. "And no torture, as far as I know."

She raised her brows. "No cleaners? No guns or data breaching?"

He chuckled. "That I can't promise you, at least about the data breaching."

"What exactly will you be doing?" she asked as he threaded his fingers through hers and leaned back.

"They said something about heading up a western division of Interpol to monitor Eastern Europe."

Her eyes widened. "Interpol? You work for—wait a minute…you designed what was it? Shadow-pol? That's Interpol?"

He nodded. "Yeah…I have been pretty busy."

She smiled mischievously. "So that's why you were too busy to date."

He snorted. "Get real."

"I'm glad, whatever the reason," she sighed, kissing his cheek. "It saved you from all those other girls I'd have to compete with."

"Sweetheart, when you arrived on scene there was no competition," he stated. "For me, it was love at first sight, though I didn't quite realize it at the time."

Her expression softened. "I know I was a goner the first time I saw you walk into computer class."

He lifted his hand to her cheek and kissed her. "I didn't even care about the rules against fraternizing, not when I really began to notice you."

She snuggled against him. "Me neither."

He studied her a moment, then nodded toward the guest room. "How about we go to bed, wife?"

She smiled. "I thought you'd never ask."

c. 2012 by Christine Levitt

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