Set during 3x22 "Til Death Do Us Part". After they save Michael, but before Nikita takes off.
Nikita grabbed Michael the second they were alone. She gripped his t-shirt with more strength than she thought she could muster, and yanked him in for a kiss. He was so surprised he dropped their sleeping bags. He recovered quickly, however, wrapping his arms around her waist. But he was still partially stunned by her suddenness. And by her fierceness. She kissed him hard. It was more desperation than affection, all passion lacking as she just had to have him. He couldn't blame her for it. There was a feeling of desperation and hopelessness in the depth of his heart as well. Yet they were alright- well, not really, but they were alive. They could be in each other's arms.
"Hey. Nikita. Honey. It's okay. I'm right here. It's okay," Michael got Nikita to pull away from him. But only for a second. Her brown eyes glanced up at him, full of tears, hurt, anxiety, and something else he couldn't quite figure out. He didn't really have the time to before she was pulling him back in for another searing kiss. Honestly, he shouldn't have been that surprised. Since he had woken up, they had been surrounded by their family. They never stopped them from affection before. And it didn't stop their embraces then. But for a moment like that, they needed to be alone. As alone as the place they were hunkering down in could provide, anyway.
Division was gone. Nikita blew the charge, finally setting the hellhole aflame. Yet they weren't free. Oversight was destroyed, Zetrov was in good hands, Gogol wasn't a threat, Semak and Ari and Percy were dead, the Dirty Thirty were no longer, and the place that had haunted the team for years didn't exist anymore. However, Amanda was still out there. And she had a whole new and powerful organization at her back. It was going to take everything they had to fight back. They didn't have the information they needed, and one of their own was being hunted by every law enforcement agency there was. The disadvantages were great, forcing them to keep fighting tooth and nail just to breathe.
But at least Michael was alive. Those several minutes where he wasn't resuscitating were the most horrific moments of Nikita's life. The team was shocked and trembling too. He meant so much to everybody. But he was her world. She had already lost so much. She lost everything she thought had ever made her human or loveable. Except him. She couldn't lose him. The hell she had gone through was only worth it because he was on the other side. He was her drive to continue forward when everything came crashing down around her. She had given up hope and was ready for all of it to end. But the thought of him kept her going. His incredible, amazing, awe inspiring strength gave her strength.
All of those thoughts extended to her team as well. Nikita would do anything for every member of her family. But Michael was different. He knew it, she knew it, the whole world knew it. He was her heart- her soul. And she would die without him. She felt like she already had when his heart wouldn't start beating again. Watching the president die in front of her and being forced to take the blame for that wasn't even the worst thing to happen to her that day; it was running to Medical and seeing her fiancé flatlined. Her heart had stopped beating and her lungs had stopped breathing. It wasn't until he woke up and hugged her back that she felt anything. Everything before that had been numbing pain.
She could shake all those thoughts away then. He was kissing her back with just as much emotion. They were in each other's arms once again. Although they had no idea where they were (some hideout for one of Birkhoff's hacker friends), they had their own space for the night. The team could recuperate, and gather themselves back together before establishing their next move. Nikita had other ideas, however. She started to pull at Michael's shirt, attempting to tear it off of him. She should've gone slowly considering the recent shocks to his heart. But she didn't care. She had to have him.
"Nikita. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere," Michael managed to separate from his fiancée for a second time. He held her gently by the waist, far enough away that he could look her in the eyes. The tears hadn't disappeared. She was doing her best to hold them back. But when Nikita saw how concerned and loving his gaze was, the dam broke. Tears fell heavy and fast, her shoulders shaking and chin trembling. She thought her sobs had been spent in Medical. But she was drastically wrong. All that hurt and pain had to be felt.
Rapidly, he brought her back into his solid chest. One hand remained wrapped securely around her waist, the other cradled her head. She continued to cling to his t-shirt, never wanting to let go. She didn't think she could let go ever again. However, a part of Nikita knew she was going to have to. She was going to have to let go of Michael and her team if she wanted to keep them safe. Amanda got the world to turn against her; she painted her the villain of the story and the assassin of the president. Anyone connected to her was going to face the same punishment if they got caught. She couldn't let that happen. Her loved ones had to remain safe no matter the cost- no matter how much it was going to hurt them.
Taking in a sharp breath, Nikita wouldn't allow those thoughts to consume her any longer. She knew the team was stronger together. She knew having Michael by her side made everything easier. Running away wasn't going to solve anything. But it would ensure her fiancé never died again. She also wouldn't lose another team member, like she lost Sean Pierce. Everyone would be saved from any pain. There would be no more Elizabeths, or Hayleys, or Nikolais, or Daniels, or Seans. She could keep everyone safe if she left them.
"I got you. You're safe. We're both here," Michael's muttered words snapped Nikita back to reality. It sounded as though he was crying. She wouldn't have been shocked if he was. She was aware how much he had fought and struggled while she was more or less under Amanda's control. He thought she was going to lose herself too, lying to her about the antidote and stating that the only way to save him was to save herself. They had gotten into an argument once where he claimed she had no idea how much she meant to him; he couldn't lose her. Yet she understood then. He'd sacrifice himself if that meant she got to live. Hell, that was exactly what he had done.
"Just. Stop. Stop talking. Please, Michael," Nikita mumbled into the crook of his neck. She didn't want to think anymore. She simply wanted to feel. Not the hurt that had her heart in a vice-like grip, but the warmth of Michael's body against hers and the security of his arms holding her. Nodding, he agreed with her sentiment. He held her tighter and laid a kiss to the crown of her head. She thought she could simply melt into the embrace and disappear. Her problems would certainly go away if all she could do was be held by her fiancé. That was definitely the ideal.
For the moment, though, the couple was truly alone. Their team was scattered throughout the hideaway, each collapsing into a restless sleep. There was so much to do from that point forward, except they had to settle down after all the fighting and running around they had done. No one really thought they could, however. Especially not Michael and Nikita. Yet the two were fortunate enough to have some ideas spring to mind. Maybe more desperate than fortunate. Their emotions were strained and raw, needing an escape. And they had to stop thinking about the horrible possibilities that almost came to pass. It had to be all about feeling from then on.
That kiss was more tender. Nikita and Michael were on the same page. They didn't break their hold on one another; they simply lessened their fierce grip into something more gentle. His hands framed her soft cheeks, wiping away her tears with soothing thumbs. She surged into him at the tender affection. She entwined her legs with his the best she could while they were standing, and slipped a warm hand under his tee. His skin still felt like ice. He had warmed up substantially since they had removed all the icepacks. But he continued to feel so cold. She couldn't stand it. She ran her hands along his skin in an effort to share her body heat. He couldn't help but smile into their kiss.
There really wasn't a place to sit or lie down besides the rolled up sleeping bags he had brought in. Neither wanted to separate to unroll them, however. They'd make do with what they had, as always. Though, Michael would've liked something better to treat his fiancée to. They had chanced death and lived once more. He didn't want something quick and simple, one of their desperate clings to one another after almost losing the person they loved most. They deserved to take their time, and celebrate the fact that they were both there. Love and devotion should flow between them. The world should stop for a moment so they could be together.
His green eyes did a quick scan of their makeshift room for anything to utilize. There wasn't much. So as Nikita attempted to have Michael follow her to the ground, he lifted her up and pressed her back against the wall. He had to slow her down, had to alleviate the anxieties that were no doubt coursing through her. He felt calmer with her in his embrace; she had to feel the same. Kissing along her neck got her to stop for a second. She let out a soft moan, unsure how much the sound would carry. He wasn't as concerned about their team hearing, as surprising as that was even to himself. They probably guessed the couple would be swept up in the moment together anyway. Who could blame them if they got carried away.
Her hips began to roll, thrusting against him wanting friction. He pressed into her, and breathed hotly against her neck. A louder moan escaped her that time. Nikita recaptured his lips with hers, and thrusted her hips even sharper. Michael caressed her thighs and side, lifting her shirt in the process. Her impossibly long legs cinched tighter around his hips, and her fingers slipped through his dark hair. She pulled at the short locks lightly to change the angle of their kiss. Moving as close to her as he possibly could, he ensured the kiss remained deep and powerful.
The two couldn't stay against the wall forever. As much as their hips enjoyed connecting on shallow thrusts, they needed to feel more. It was all about having more. Together, Michael and Nikita could achieve that. They could make certain that they felt loved and cherished, and that their arms was the safest place they could be. While he stepped back from the wall, she dropped her feet to the ground. With eyes closed and mouths locked, they weren't certain where they were going. Soon, he tripped over a sleeping bag. She was brought down after him, their limbs tangled together. But as the couple hit the ground, laughter erupted out of them. It was the first bright sound since the whole ordeal had started. They were willing to hear more of it.
Great at multitasking, the two worked to unroll the sleeping bags while they kissed. The awkwardness made them giggle, yet that was the point. Nikita and Michael could bathe in each other's light, feeling bright and carefree despite the world burning to the ground around them. It was only them in that room, at that moment. Nothing existed besides the passion and love they had for one another. So once one of the sleeping bags was flattened out, they collapsed onto it. The two had shared a small bed before. What was one more time for the engaged couple. As long as they could feel one another so alive under their hands, they were content.
Caresses tore gently at clothing. Their shirts were off first, as well as her bra. Michael touched and massaged her breasts, causing her hips to snap against his. Nikita nipped at his jaw and neck in retaliation. He was slower in his movements than her, but that only drove her higher. She yanked at the waistband of his jeans, which brought him in even closer. He didn't cease massaging her breasts, however. In fact, he brought down his lips to kiss along her chest. Her hands were greedy in their attempt to take off his pants. Quickly, she settled on just palming him through his jeans. He moaned against her breasts, and she thrusted into him.
Whether it was all their touching and kissing, their intense need to feel and not think, or the small sense of freedom blowing up Division caused, the desire to have one another was burning hot and bright. Pants, shoes, and underwear were simply barriers in their way that needed to be removed. Sure and gentle hands took care of the rest of the couple's clothing, ensuring to continue touching in just the right spots. Nikita's hips were just as wild without anything separating her and Michael as with. She kept grinding against him, and he kissed her thoroughly for it. Smiling into the affection, she continued her actions. He had to chuckle at her.
Gently, Michael laid Nikita on her back. She wrapped steady limbs around him, pulling him in close. They kissed softly, a mere press of lips as they breathed each other in. His hands were warm and tender while he held her and traced oh so familiar tattoo lines. A grin split at her full lips, knowing that he wasn't so cold anymore. But how could he be with her in his life. She skimmed her fingers along his defined muscles, hips thrusting shallowly. They shared one more intense kiss, until that broke into a moan at the feeling of him entering inside her. She was hot and wet, and he was stiff and throbbing. There was no way either of them could last long. Yet they were going to try.
It wasn't necessarily a slow and steady rhythm; their hips moved of their own accord while Nikita and Michael continued to kiss. Heavy breaths and moans passed their lips, interrupting kisses. However, neither really cared. She was rocking against him, holding him ever so close. He used one hand to steady himself, the other he slipped down between them. Talented fingers got her to moan and thrust hard, wanting more. Who was he to ever deny her. With more strokes and quick swirls, she flew over the edge. He wasn't far behind her, her moans sending him over. As they did everything else, they rode their high together. 'Til death do them part, right. That was what the engagement ring on her finger meant. Michael and Nikita were going to love one another until the very end. They just had to make certain the end wasn't soon.