A/N: Thanks to the one person who reviewed last chapter! I really love reading the feedback! This update is a big one, as is the one after this. I hope that everyone enjoys, and that I get more than one review. Either way… :P And yes, this is The Next Seduction chapter. The reason why I was asking about how much time passes between this episode and Pandora…isn't completely clear in this chapter. ;) You'll have to wait even longer, but I promise that it will blow your mind when all is revealed.

Disclaimer: I do not own Nikita.

Imogen nodded, and then she left Percy's office, being escorted by Michael to Medical. Once she was there, Michael left her in the capable hands of Birkhoff and the doctor.

"Ready?" Birkhoff said.

"How long will it take?" she asked, willing Birkhoff to realize her silent question.

"About half an hour," he answered. "Although you will want to rest for a bit afterwards."

"How long will I have to rest?" she asked, still trying to imply something to Birkhoff.

"A couple hours should do it," Birkhoff replied, finally catching onto what she was saying.

Imogen nodded, lay down on the operating table, and within a minute was passed out due to whatever the doctor had given her; she wouldn't be able to feel a thing while she was being operated on.

Approximately half an hour later, just like Birkhoff had told her, the procedure was done and Imogen was waking up just as the doctor put a bandage on the back of her neck.

"Ow," she said.

"Yeah, it's going to be sore for a little while," Birkhoff said. "Right. Now, don't try to take this out, it will trigger an alert and no one wants that to happen. However, feel secure in knowing that we can find you anywhere, one of the beauties of this being picked up by satellite."

Imogen nodded, barely taking in what Birkhoff was telling her. He left shortly after that, but then Michael came in to go over the plan for the evening and the next day.

"You are going to stay in your recruit room for the night," he explained. "There are still a few kinks to smooth over with your new place, but everything will be sorted tomorrow and that is when you will move in. That being said, I need to discuss your cover with you."

Imogen briefly thought in her head that, if all went well… she wouldn't need to know her cover. She was going to escape as soon as possible; hopefully making a break for it tonight.

"What is my cover?" she asked so that he wouldn't get suspicious.

"Imogen Peters," Michael began, Imogen's flinch at the last name going unnoticed. "Is working for a software development company."

"I see," she said, nodding. "Any specific details?"

"No," Michael said. "Those are up to you, just be sure to make them realistic and consistent."

"Okay," Imogen smiled.

"Go back to your recruit room now," Michael said. "And pack up your things; everything needs to be ready for early tomorrow."

Michael then left Medical, leaving Imogen on her own to lift herself off of the table and into a standing position. She walked just fine on her way to her room, but the back of her neck was bothering her immensely.

Once she was in her room, she gathered up the few objects that she was sure Division hadn't tampered with, and smuggled them out of there. She quickly made her way to a tunnel that she knew led out of Division, and stashed the items in there. Even if she didn't manage to escape that night, she wanted to be sure that they would be there the next day. If she didn't escape, Imogen would move them from there to her apartment.

Imogen hurried back to her room so that no one saw her moving around Division. She did pack up the rest of her stuff so that no one would get suspicious, and then she decided that she would take a short nap before going to see Birkhoff.

Elsewhere… (Berlin, 2:43am)

A black man was walking down a deserted pathway in-between a couple buildings when his phone rang.

"Agent Conahan, this is Jurgen. I'm late, but we shall meet at the location we discussed," the voice on the other end said. "Please wait there for me."

The voice then hung up the phone, not waiting for a response. The black man dialed another number and waited for someone to pick up.

"Sir, its Conahan. The meeting is on," the man, Conahan, said. "I'll contact you when I have the package."

When Conahan hung up the phone he heard some sort of noise; someone opening a gate to a fence or something similar.

"Jurgen?" he called out. "You have the weapon?"

There was a man in the shadows, but he didn't respond. Instead, he raised a gun and shot Conahan a couple of times. The gun didn't make a sound, which indicated that there was a silencer on it.

An hour later and Imogen was awake in her room. She was pacing back and forth, a worried and sad look on her face. The reason seemed to be the paper and pen in her hands. She was chewing on the end of the pen as well. She didn't normally do that, she didn't do that ever actually, but something about what she was writing was really nerve-wracking.

She kept pacing back and forth for a little while longer, writing a few sentences every now and again. Finally she just collapsed onto her bed and stared into space; not really seeing anything. She dropped the pen to the bed for a moment, and her hand absentmindedly moved to clutch her necklace, fingering the individual charms.

"What to do?" she whispered.

After a few more minutes Imogen just sat up, grabbed the pen again, and walked over to her desk. She started writing really fast, though she had to pause every now and again to wipe a tear from her eyes.

Birkhoff sat in his office, clicking the mouse for his computers. His eyes looked at the screen, and were drinking in the information even if his mind was half missing from that task.

He was thinking about Imogen, and the fact that he had not only put a tracker on her, but a kill chip as well. He had no choice, not with other people in the room at the time. His head was telling him that he made the right choice; that because he had followed the orders that he was given… the both of them would be safe. His head told him that they would have both been cancelled immediately; or at least he would have been, and someone else would have put the kill chip in anyways.

But the problem was that Birkhoff's decision was not sitting well with him—with his heart. It seemed like he had really gotten attached to her, something that didn't normally happened. He was thinking about deactivating it… but he didn't exactly know how to do that. If he had a little bit of time, then he may be able to accomplish that; however nothing was guaranteed.

That being said, Birkhoff wasn't really paying much attention to what was on his computer screen anymore. Now he was just anxiously awaiting Imogen's arrival at his office. She had hinted to him right before the operation that she wanted to come see him; he had let her know that he understood, but had also warned that she should probably wait a couple of hours.

Imogen finally put down the pen and once she put the finishing touches on the paper that she had been writing on, she folded it up. Then, she picked up the pen again and scribbled something on the front of it.

She grabbed a little bag and put the paper in it, and then left her room with just herself and that bag. She didn't know if she would be coming back to that room or not, so she wanted to take everything that she possibly could with her; out of the things that she knew were safe from Division and did not have any sort of tracking device hidden in them.

She walked quietly down the halls of Division, being careful to not be seen by anyone. Imogen was making her way to Birkhoff's office, where she hoped that he was sitting in. She knew that he had gotten her message, or at least she was confident that he had, but Imogen was still worrying. She wasn't sure if he would have waited; she had taken a little bit longer than she had originally estimated.

Imogen made quick work of navigating through Division, and reached Birkhoff's office in what she thought to be record time.

"B?" she said softly once she arrived.

A sleeping figure jerked awake and then stood up at the sound of her voice.

"Hey," he said.

Imogen walked up to him, slipping her bag off and placed it onto the floor.

"How've you been?" she asked. "We haven't gotten much time to talk lately."

"Don't you worry about me, I've been okay," he said, sitting next to her. "Is your tracker bothering you at all?"

"I don't think that it's hurting as such," Imogen said. "I think that it is just sore really. I guess you could say it's like I bumped something or pulled a muscle."

"Oh I see," Birkhoff nodded.

"How about we talk about something else?" she asked. "I don't want to be reminded about what I did to get myself here… even if it was at the threat of losing my life."

"Alright," Birkhoff said with a hand on her thigh.

"How about a rematch in Mortal Kombat?" she asked with a slight smirk on her face.

"Sure," Birkhoff answered and picked up the controllers. "But I must warn you… last time was a fluke, I'm going to beat you this time around."

"Oh really? You think so?" she taunted.

"Yeah," he said, turning on the television and the game.

"Bring it on then," she said, and then turned to the screen as the game started.

It was harder than Imogen expected; obviously Birkhoff had been practicing since the last time that she had played against him. She wanted to see if she could prolong the game and not use any tricks, in an effort to… stay with him longer. Not that she was going to be leaving right after the game, though it still mattered.

"Come on, come on," Birkhoff muttered.

"Having trouble?" Imogen said.

"How did you get so much better?" he asked, not taking his eyes off of the screen in front of them.

"It's a secret," she said, nudging him.

"Oh, you playing with me?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Quite possibly," he said, still not looking at her.

The game was lasting a long time compared to the normal length, and Birkhoff was beginning to notice that fact.

"Are you trying to prolong this or something?" Birkhoff asked.

"Of course not," she lied.

"You might want to step it up, because I'm going to beat you if you aren't careful," Birkhoff said.

"Oh? Here I was thinking that you were going to beat me anyways, according to what you said. Is that not true?" she playfully taunted.

"Oh it'll still happen," Birkhoff said.

"You're going to have to prove it then," she said.

The two of them descended into silence once more, both focused on the game. Finally, Imogen knew that she couldn't prolong the game any longer without it becoming odd to Birkhoff (not that he would mind). But before she could pull the trick out and beat Birkhoff, he did another, more complicated thing that she didn't know and beat her.

"Damn it," she cursed.

"Thought you were going to win?" Birkhoff teased.

"Always," she said. "But good job all the same."

"You did really well as well," Birkhoff said as he shut off the television. "I'm really proud of you, and not just about this game. You've done really well here in general… I think that's why you graduated so soon."

"Thank you B," she said. "I started to notice some people giving me extra attention… I thought at first that they were trying to test me for some reason. But I guessed eventually that it wasn't the case."

"You were right about being concerned about being tested," Birkhoff said. "Percy tends to test people a lot and sometimes you don't even know it… Keep an eye out for that constantly, especially now that you're graduated."

"Thanks B," she smiled.

It was silent for a moment until the two of them leaned in and their lips connected. Both sets of eyes slowly closed; they were caught up in the moment. Imogen, in a split second decision and probably a selfish one, though she quickly squashed that thought, slid her hand underneath Birkhoff's shirt and pulled it off of him, with a little help from Birkhoff himself. Birkhoff, who seemed to agree with the idea (probably because he was a nerd and could take what he could get…), did the same service for Imogen, all the while thinking about those fateful three words in his mind.

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