Honesty

"I'm sorry I'm so late. I could have sworn my husband was already home."

Nikita quickly dug about in her purse for her wallet. The nanny, a plump woman with flaming red hair styled in a rolled bun, stood at the door in her navy blue coat. She gave Nikita an understanding maroon smile as she waited for her payment. After a few more moments of fumbling and awkwardly catching items falling from her open bag, Nikita produced the money owed to the woman. She handed it to her along with more apologies and promises to not be as careless in the future.

"It is alright, Madame Volker. No need to feel bad. I am fine."

"It won't happen again, I promise. Thank you so much, Mrs. Belshaw, for looking after Lizzie so late into the evening."

"No bother. I really must be on my way now. Have a good evening."

Nikita waved goodbye and watched as the woman made her way down the drive and onto the sidewalk, heading to the nearest transit stop down the road. The air was cold and made the nanny pull at her coat in an attempt to get it to wrap more around her but to no avail. Instead, the woman hunched down against the cold and shuffled on into the night.

Nikita closed the door and blew an exhausted gust from her lips. Behind her, Elizabeth soundlessly padded up to her with bare feet carrying her favorite teddy bear and looking with wide, curious blue eyes. Nikita turned and smiled at her baby girl.

"Come here, you!" Nikita raced to scoop up her daughter into her arms. "I've missed you! How was your day?"

"Where's daddy?"

"Where's daddy? I've been gone all day and haven't seen you since this morning, and all you have to say is where's daddy?" Nikita faked an injury.

"I missed you too," said Elizabeth with a coy grin. "Where's daddy?"

Nikita gave Elizabeth a quick kiss on her plump and rosy cheeks before lowering her to the floor.

"Well," Nikita began slowly. "I suppose he is still at work."

"He's always home before you, though," Elizabeth insisted. "You're never home before him."

Nikita hung her coat in the hall closet and set her briefcase on the side table. She ignored the slight pinch of guilt that always came when she knew her daughter noticed her absence. She smiled at her daughter and took her hand into hers to lead her towards the kitchen.

"Let's see what we have in here to eat, shall we. I'm starving."

Nikita opened the refrigerator door as her daughter began recounting tales from Madame Parent's Kindergarten class at Elizabeth's primary school. One story that Elizabeth was eager to tell was that of a boy in her class that thought it hilarious to pass gas during reading time.

"It was very awful, Mommie," said Elizabeth, wrinkling her nose at the memory. She pulled herself up onto a barstool at the breakfast counter. Once seated, her thin legs swung playfully as she continued her story.

Nikita nodded, listened, and noticed that the little girl had not yet changed her school uniform into her pajamas. She was sure this was requested for the nanny to do if both she and Helmut returned home late. It was likely that Elizabeth did not feel very comfortable changing clothes in front of the portly redhead and refused to take them off. Nikita never negated Lizzie's fiery temper or that she could be more stubborn than a weed when it came to doing something she was staunchly against. She turned her attention back towards food and what was left in the fridge for her to whip up quickly.

"Have you eaten dinner yet, Lizzie?"

"Yep. Madame Belshaw made me a croquet monsieur with a salad…It was good, but…"

"You're still hungry, aren't you," Nikita deduced.

Lizzie nodded her head and smiled.

"She said that as a proper young lady, I'm to be mindful of my figure and not eat too much or else I'll get fat."

"Really."

Nikita rummaged through the refrigerator and produced a collage of leftovers from meals prepared that week. She placed the food on the counter and began uncovering the foil-wrapped plates to smell if the food was any good or should be thrown away. The first plate had the remnants of roast beef and potatoes that still looked edible. The next plate had a cheese dish that Nikita knew just from the smell was likely bad. A third dish was pasta. She set that aside along with the roast beef. Next was a bowl of green beans that still looked fresh, then a container of sugar snap peas.

"Do you think that is why she is so fat?" Lizzie looked innocently at Nikita.

"That's not very nice." Nikita placed the roast beef and the pasta in the microwave to heat up.

"Well…She is big…"

"That's probably not because of what she is eating," said Nikita, even though she suspected the nanny's weight likely did have a lot to do with her diet. "It's still not a very nice thing to say about someone."

"I never say it to her face."

"I don't think you have anything to worry about as far as your figure," said Nikita. "You're perfect the way you are."

"Because you and daddy aren't fat?"

Nikita pulled out the first two plates of heated food from the microwave then slid in the green beans.

"Because you're only six years old and can eat whatever you want right now."

Lizzie's face lit up with excitement. Nikita noticed the look on her daughter's face and quickly followed up.

"Food. Not candy and sweets. You still can't eat a lot of—"

"I know, I know. Candy is bad for my teeth," Lizzie finished, rolling her eyes. "Does that mean I can't have a brownie for a snack at school tomorrow?"

Nikita smiled at her daughter and reached across the counter to rustle her sun-spun blonde hair.

"Of course. You can even have two."

Lizzie smiled big with her entire face.

Nikita finished heating up the food and prepared their plates. They sat down at the breakfast counter and ate. Lizzie continued with her tales from Kindergarten and what she hoped to happen on her birthday when she finally turned seven years old.

"That's a big number for you, Liz. What do you plan on doing that day?"

"Probably just sleep in. Watch some cartoons. Maybe ride my bike for a little bit," said Lizzie with a slight hum.

"You don't want a party for your birthday?"

"Well, of course I do, Mommie. But that will be later on in the day. I want to wear a pretty dress and a tiara and have cupcakes and a big huge cake and ice cream and balloons and a clown!"

"A clown!" Nikita made a surprised expression.

"Yes! And a huge slide and a bouncy house and a band!"

"Well now. It's a good thing your birthday is a whole year away. I need time to prepare for all of that."

"Will you be able to come to my party this time?"

Nikita looked up from her food and saw the hopeful but not entirely trusting expression on her daughter's face. The look tugged at her heart, making her grimace at the sharp shard of regret piercing deep within her.

Nikita missed Lizzie's sixth birthday entirely, coming home long after her daughter was put to bed. Helmut was the one to organize her party, receive the guests, entertain the children, and thank the parents as they left with their children and complimentary bags of prizes. Nikita saw that Lizzie, although a little sad that she wasn't there, still enjoyed her day from the photos taken. Her smile was bright and heavily stained pink and purple from the icing on her birthday cake. A small slice of the cake along with a few candies was saved for Nikita when she finally returned home after supervising an arms deal and coordinating a Black Bag mission. Michael insisted then that she go home, intuitively noticing that her attention was elsewhere and not on the missions.

"This is important," Nikita told Michael.

"I thought you said your daughter was having her birthday today. Don't you want to be there for that?"

"Helmut can take care of things for me. Besides…I need to be here."

He leveled his gaze with hers, silently challenging her words before relenting. He turned and continued with Trent coordinating the arms deal while Nikita sat back from the monitors, watching. Every now and then, she looked at her phone, seeing several missed calls from Helmut. She tucked her phone back in her breast pocket.

Lizzie yawned and blinked slowly. Nikita looked her child over and decided it was time to get her in the bed. She quickly checked the clock over the oven and saw that it was nearing midnight.

"Best get you off to bed, sweetheart. You still have one more day of school this week."

"Okay, Mommie," Lizzie answered sleepily.

Nikita rounded the counter and lifted her daughter to her hip. Lizzie leaned her head against her mother's shoulder, dropping her teddy bear to the floor. Bending, Nikita picked up the bear and carried her daughter up the townhome steps to the second level. She ran a small bath and bathed Lizzie as fast as she could manage without fully waking the child up. Even though she missed more nights than she could count, Nikita still knew her way around the sleeping toddler well enough to get her effortlessly into bed. She pulled on the little girl's pajamas and brushed out her hair so that it would not be as tangled in the morning. Finally, she lay Lizzie in her princess sleigh bed and tucked her under the pink and purple sheets.

"Where is daddy?" Lizzie asked again in mid-yawn. "Is he coming home?"

Nikita sat on the edge of the bed and brushed the hair away from her forehead.

"I'm sure he will be home soon."

"Are you and daddy getting a divorce?"

Nikita reacted with slight alarm. She stared at Lizzie for a moment, feeling her skin grow cold and the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

"Why would you say that? Of course, we aren't getting a divorce. Who told you about that?"

"Well," Lizzie shrugged. "Just seems like you and daddy aren't getting along like you used to. You're always late getting home, and he gets upset when you don't call."

"That doesn't mean we are getting a divorce," said Nikita, busying her hands with smoothing out the sheets.

"We don't go anywhere anymore as a family. Bryson at school said that was the same thing that was happening with his parents when they got a divorce. He said his parents stopped sleeping in the same room even. Then his dad just left the house completely and never came back."

Nikita drew in a breath. She tried to keep a tender smile, but she could feel the strain of Lizzie's words pulling the corners of her mouth down.

"Your dad and I are going through a difficult moment, but it's not because we are getting a divorce. We are far from that. We love each other, and we love you."

Nikita kissed Lizzie's forehead and stood to her feet.

"Who is Michael?"

Nikita turned back to her daughter. She opened her mouth to answer but found the words missing. She swallowed and tried again.

"Michael…He is mine and your daddy's friend. He is the man that helped your daddy bring Mommie home last Christmas. Remember?"

"Adam's daddy."

"Yes," Nikita smiled.

"I don't think he is daddy's friend. He doesn't like him."

"Your daddy likes him," said Nikita with an air of suspicion at her daughter's line of questioning. "What makes you think that he doesn't?"

"Because…You keep calling him that other guy's name, and daddy doesn't like that. It makes him very mad when you do that. He doesn't say anything…but I can tell…when he's mad."

Nikita sighed heavily. She looked at Lizzie again, this time relaxing her guard. She sat back down on the bed. Words jumbled in her mind trying to sort out the right ones to say. She looked into her daughter's trusting eyes and lovingly brushed the tiny wisps of hair from her forehead.

All about the little girl's room were pictures and toys of fantasy and pretend. There were mythical things, fairy tales, and magic all dressed up in arrays of pinks, crystal, and blue. She looked down at her hands and saw the wrinkles beginning in her fingers. She sensed the ache in her joints of years spent holding a gun more than she did her daughter's hand. She saw the tiaras and birthday cards taped to her Memory Board of birthdays she missed because she needed to save the world more than be home with her daughter to help her paint a picture. It was Helmut that taught her how to ride her bike. How to make paper airplanes.

Fly a kite.

Bake brownies.

Play checkers.

It was Helmut that taught her how to write her name and learn her address. It was Helmut that was there for her birthdays. Her first milestone moments like losing her first tooth. She remembered going into work early one Tuesday morning that past summer and ended up staying at Section overnight. That same night, Lizzie lost her first baby tooth. It was a bottom incisor right next to her right canine. The sudden dark space in her mouth was barely noticeable at first. Nikita did not react how her daughter hoped that she would when she finally came home the following evening. Lizzie smiled especially big that night, hoping to catch her mother's attention at what she considered to be a huge gaping hole in her mouth. Instead, Nikita barely acknowledged the child as she ran up to her and insisted she look at her. Helmut distracted Lizzie long enough for Nikita to gather herself fully so that she could recognize the lost tooth and give her daughter the attention she craved.

It was Helmut that spoke with Lizzie later on that night to further smooth out the missed opportunity for true achievement. Helmut taught her all the things Nikita missed teaching her while she was away at work at Section. Even though Helmut was not Lizzie's true father. He acted and responded in the role as if Lizzie were from his flesh and bone. To anyone looking at him with Lizzie, he was everything that made a father.

Her father.

However, both knew that he wasn't, and that was the horrible truth that Nikita knew one day she would have to tell. She grew up not really knowing who her real father was. Her mother paraded man after man into her life, only to have them leave for one reason or another without so much as a wink goodbye. She learned at an early age that not everything in life had permanence. Men came and went as they pleased, and there was nothing that she could do for it. She could not depend on her mother to remain stable with her, nor could she rely on her father to return to the family to take back control. She could only depend on herself and control what she did in response to what went on in her mother's house. When her grandmother died, Nikita realized she was indeed on her own. It was only a matter of time before her mother decided she wanted her boyfriend more than she wanted her now teenage daughter. Nikita was left to survive on the streets as best she could manage.

"Sweetheart…"

Lizzie lazily half-opened her eyes to Nikita's voice.

"I can't promise that everything will be okay. That I will be at every birthday, at every recital, or game that you play. I can't promise that your daddy and I will stay together or that we will live in this house for always. What I can promise is that I will always love you and that I will always make sure that you are safe. You will never have to wonder where you belong or where you came from. I promise I will always be honest with you and tell you the truth. You deserve that."

Lizzie blinked. She continued to look a little puzzled at her mother's words, but she smiled despite her confusion. She lifted up from the bed and circled her arms around her mother's neck.

"I love you, Mommie."

Nikita held her daughter close to her, burying her face into the soft wisps of her hair and smelling the sweet scent of her strawberry shampoo. She caught another scent faintly familiar to her senses below the strawberry, recalling back a moment years ago when she first noticed the scent.

It had been him.

When he kissed her, she caught the fragrance as they danced in her apartment. She remembered the heady aroma lifting from beneath the collar of his shirt as his hands moved down her back. All questions and suspicions of why he was there fell away as he pressed his lips to hers. He moved his hand to her thigh. She had not wanted that moment to end between them. He told her words that felt like exerts from the many dreams she often had of him alone in her bed. She wanted him to say to her that he desired her, that he was only being cruel to cover up the fact that he actually loved her. They weren't supposed to feel anything for one another. They were supposed to simply be mentor and mentee. There was no room for them to be lovers…At least not by Section's standards.

We fight all the time…just to stay alive… Let's not fight what's between us… Let's take what we can get…

Nikita breathed in deeply, not wanting to let go even when Lizzie began to whine about wanting to lie down and go to sleep. Nikita released the little girl and settled her back underneath her sheets. She reached to turn on her humidifier and night light before leaving the room.

She checked her phone, noting it was almost one in the morning. If she raced to get into bed, she would barely get four hours of sleep before she would need to be back up again to be at Section before six. She went through her nightly routine autonomously, allowing her body to move and leave her mind to meander through worlds both past and present. She did not imagine she would ever live the kind of life that she was living now with Helmut and Lizzie. She always thought that she would make the fantasy in her head a reality somehow. Yet, she knew there was no possible way that Section would ever allow such a thing.

Not the Section she knew.

Madeline and Operations would have never approved a relationship deeper than surface interest to build between herself and Michael. They were adamant about them not continuing a relationship, even a friendship, once it was discovered that Michael's performance was in danger of relaxing. It was always about the numbers. It was always about the percentage of success versus the probability of potential failure if operatives were allowed to care about one another or the situations they found themselves in. More often than not, Nikita was sacrificed to prove a point to Michael that nothing was sacred. Not even those he cared the most for.

Everything and everyone was expendable.

Nikita went to the medicine cabinet in the kitchen and took her evening doses. She thought a moment to cut off the entry hall light but decided against doing so just if Helmut managed to find his way back home that night. She cut off the rest of the lights in the house and made her way towards her bedroom. She showered and pinned up her hair while past missions with Michael rolled through like a movie playing in the cinema theater of her thoughts. Her mind automatically went to her favorite memory of her and Michael in the quiet suburban split-story house they stayed in during the Armel case.

She and Michael were nervous with one another, cautiously navigating around one another as they tried to get used to their surroundings. The mid-century modern house was cozy. The house was rigged with cameras in every mirror and behind carefully positioned frames to capture their every move. Michael seemed to relax into his role far easier than Nikita did hers. She could have argued that she had the more complicated assignment of playing a psychic to get close to the terrorist attorney. It had been a mission she was not particularly proud of accomplishing. Yet, she could not deny the perks that came along with it.

We are convincing as two people in love…

Michael was right.

They did look the part. The reality of their true feelings was already very apparent to anyone seeing them together. Without either of them saying so explicitly, it was assumed that the two of them were together…Even when they obviously weren't. Even those who were not remotely knowledgeable of their history accurately concluded their bond. Yet, the relationship remained elusive to them. It did not help that for all of Section's endeavors to join the two to create a cohesive team, they worked just as hard to separate them once they noticed that the bond was natural. Michael was not as effective if he had a heart again. Nikita was not reliable if she cared too much for others. They had to be separated for Section to maintain their control over them. It was why Michael was pushed into missions that constantly put him at odds with Nikita. It was why Nikita was made aware of all of Michael's deceptions, particularly the ones he had to act against her to complete his own assignments.

"It's not on purpose, dear," Madeline said as she handed Nikita a grouping of pills. "Honestly, do you really want to be with someone that can betray you without blinking an eye? Could you really trust someone that constantly lies to you?"

"I trust you," said Nikita, warily taking the pills.

"Therein lies your problem, Nikita. You're too trusting."

Nikita looked down at the pills in her hand, then up at Madeline. The Senior Profiler gave Nikita a reassuring smile back, placing a pleasant and thoughtful expression on.

"What are these?"

"They are vitamins, Nikita. You should take them."

Nikita stared at Madeline for a long moment, hoping to see a different expression rather than the placid, tranquil one that Madeline held as if it were a masquerade mask. Slowly, she placed the pills on her tongue and took the glass of water handed to her. Madeline watched intently as she drank the water. When she was finished, Madeline questioned if she was finished taking the pills. Nikita stuck out her tongue childishly so that Madeline could see that she had, indeed, swallowed the pills.

"Good. Now, off to Master Yoshi's class, then after that, you'll need to meet with Marla for Etiquette training."

Nikita noticed that Madeline took extra care in training her to be as alluring and mysterious as she appeared to be. At first, she thought Madeline's attention was what a real mother would be if she cared enough for her daughter to teach her anything. She did her best to make Madeline proud of her. She constantly sought after her approval with everything that she did. However, all that it seemed to matter to Madeline was that Nikita do her job as instructed and take her vitamins.

"Beauty is skin deep, but charm comes from within. You must be the woman that every man wants and desires," said Madeline as she circled her chair.

Indeed, Nikita managed to gain nearly every man's attention that she encountered.

All but Michael.

In the end, the only attention that Nikita craved was Michael's, and she worked tirelessly to maintain her position with him no matter how difficult circumstances became. They found a way, despite Section's traps and schemes. They escaped together and lived happily for all three months. Nikita wondered how it was that in those three months, she never once got pregnant. In all the years that she worked in Section, she did not find herself in the same peril as other female operatives. She did not have to make the awful decision to give up her child or, worse, elect to terminate the pregnancy just so that she could maintain her status.

For all the moments spent with Michael alone with him in hotel rooms, posing as his mistress or as his business partner, she was sure both Madeline and Operations knew what was going on. There was a period that they did not bother hiding. They were, at the very least, seeing one another outside of Section, which they both knew was strictly forbidden. Their blatant disobedience to the rule nearly got both Walter and Birkoff killed when they tried to help them cover up their communications between them. After dodging the plots and scaling a million obstacles placed in their path to try and force them apart, eventually, they were allowed to simply be as they were. During that time, Nikita did not find herself even remotely fearful of pregnancy.

It was only after Madeline died that Nikita noticed a change.

The vitamins she was made to take stopped. They were replaced by the medication used to help maintain the Geldman Process instead. The final night that she was with Michael felt more than extraordinary. She felt him far deeper within her than she had ever felt him before. The passion between them felt volcanic, and the release was just as explosive. She always felt torn apart and re-amended whenever she was with Michael. Yet, at that time, at that moment, her universe pulled into itself and created a whole other world that belonged only to them. They were its only inhabitants.

And in that world, they were free.

Nikita lay down in her bed and closed her eyes. Like every night, she was transported to a vision of a suburban home tucked away in a peaceful family neighborhood just outside of Vienne. The day had gone by with much of it spent cleaning and keeping the house as she waited for her husband to return home from work. The cameras were set to record their every movement for both Section and their target. They would play the perfect roles of newlyweds just moving into the neighborhood. Her instructions were clear from the last briefing with Madeline and Operations. They had to appear authentic in front of the camera. They had to be convincing.

The average couple that has been married under five years have intimate relations at least twice a week…

Nikita had found it hard to muster the courage to touch Michael, let alone make love to him. If Madeline knew what sort of nuclear weapon she had given Nikita to wield, allowing her to act on her most secret of ambitions, she might not have been so forward with her suggestions. They were only a few months past hurdling the Jurgen incident.

Nikita always suspected that her pairing with Michael's former mentor likely wormed under his skin a little. The wide-eyed look on his face when she accepted Jurgen's invitation to dinner told her all that she needed to know concerning Michael's feelings. He wanted to object but didn't. He tried to tell her not to trust Jurgen but couldn't. Michael was bound by rules, and Jurgen wasn't. Because of that, Jurgen was far more appealing to her than Michael was.

Yet, in her heart, not even that mattered.

She still desired to be with Michael even when it was clear that Michael would obey orders no matter his personal feelings. After Jurgen met his end during a mission, Michael did precisely as she knew he would do. He kept his distance and allowed Nikita to sulk alone, having lost both the man she could have and the man she wanted because of Section's rules.

A few months and missions later, it did not take much to reignite the flames between them.

With every mission forcing them together and then apart, that flame was brought to ablaze and then a roar. Had it not been for that night, that one night between them, Madeline and Operations might have gotten exactly what it was that they wanted. Instead, like with Dr. Frankenstein, their invention turned against them and destroyed all that they created.

Distantly, Nikita heard the quiet footsteps of someone ascending the staircase, heading towards the bedroom. A ripple of energy traveled up her spine as she imagined the person the footsteps belonged to. The bedroom door opened, and she sniffed the air, searching for the familiar amber woods scent.

Instead, she smelled nothing and knew he wasn't there.