Set pre-series when Nikita was a recruit, then in early season 3. Michael goes all drill sergeant on Nikita.
Michael had to do something about Nikita. It always felt like he had to do something about her since she had been recruited. He had to talk her off a ledge when all she wanted to do was fight and die. He had to show her that it was okay to trust people- not everyone was going to hurt her. And he had to teach her respect, and that there were consequences to her actions. The latter continued to be the bane of his role as head of agents. She just didn't care. The threat of cancelation didn't work on her as well as the others. Sure she wasn't fighting anyone anymore, but she was still raising hell. She was still sprinting towards her death.
How was Michael supposed to help Nikita if she didn't want help. She was stubbornly set in her ways unless she saw reason- again. She had to have been the most challenging recruit to ever come through those walls. Yet, he continued to fight for her. He knew it was because he believed the recruits deserved an actual chance. They shouldn't be killed simply because they were difficult to work with. If that was the case, even Birkhoff would've been canceled.
However, when it came to Nikita, there was something more to the way Michael fought for her. He refused to give up on her, no matter how many times she shoved him away. He wanted to prove to her that people would keep showing up. She wasn't always going to be abandoned. Why exactly he wanted to demonstrate that for her, he had no idea. No other recruit had gained that much devotion or protection from him. Maybe it was because he saw her unlimited potential. Maybe her terrible past brought out his bleeding heart. Or maybe it was something else entirely- something that inexplicably drew him to her.
Regardless, he wasn't going to give up on her. Michael would teach Nikita respect, accountability, and so many other things she needed to know in order to survive. How he was going to get that past her stubbornness remained a mystery. He couldn't go about it normally. He needed a drastically new tactic. Fortunately, an idea struck him as he watched her battle her Kabudo instructor. She was relentless, caustic, and let her pride get the best of her. Michael had seen the same thing occur in the Navy. Whenever that happened, the drill sergeants stepped in.
Although Michael had yet to fill that role as the head of agents, he would have to adapt that strategy quickly. Nikita got the instructor flat on his ass, and tauntingly stood over him. Usually that wouldn't have been much of an issue, but the other recruits were snickering at her actions and words. Her defiance and disrespect was spreading, "Awe. You couldn't make it with the agents, and now you're getting your ass kicked by recruits. What is Percy to do with you?"
"Nikita! Drop and give me twenty, now," Before Nikita could successfully walk away from the Kabudo instructor, Michael shouted. The training room fell silent. Recruits, agents, trainers, all looked in his direction. His attention remained on Nikita, however. He had to be unwavering in his stance. She stopped dead in her tracks and turned to him slowly. Her expression was difficult to read. Yet there was a glint of rage reflecting in her brown eyes.
"Twenty what?" Bewildered, Nikita asked. Michael nearly yelled at her again; the last thing either of them needed was for her to be insubordinate, especially since he wasn't quite sure if he could beat her stubbornness. But then he realized her confusion was genuine. She didn't know what exercise he expected her to do. The possibilities were endless.
"Pushups," Michael clarified. It was best to keep it simple. He crossed the room towards Nikita, causing the others to turn away and awkwardly resume what they were doing. No one else wanted to be drawn into their argument- or whatever it was that had the two staring so intensely at one another.
"Okay…" Nikita let her confusion mix with the attitude she gave her handler. She cast him a strange look, like he was the wrong one in the situation, and dropped to the ground.
As she cranked out some quick and steady pushups, Michael closed the gap between them. He soon realized that Nikita wasn't going to learn anything if all she did was a simple exercise. He had to make her do more, "Wait, wait. What do you say to a superior officer?"
"Fuck you?" Nikita flashed a charming grin to soften the blow of her sarcasm. Michael had to fight to hold back his laughter. He couldn't show that she had gotten to him, yet it was too late for that. She always found a way under his skin. Smugly, she finished out the rest of her pushups and hopped to her feet.
"You call them 'Sir'. And you just earned yourself five more. Start over," Michael had to pull Nikita back. Watching her start to walk away snapped him back to his thoughts. There was still a lesson to be learned. And a challenge to win.
"One, sir. Two, sir. Three, sir," Shrugging, Nikita dropped back down and began her next round of pushups. She refused to be bothered by Michael. It really was a challenge between them. They had to one up each other; they had to prove themselves superior. He shouldn't have fallen for it, but he couldn't help himself. Each 'sir' she practically shouted was sassier and more pointed than the last. He had to make her stop. Or at least prove it wasn't getting at him. So, he dropped to the ground in front of her. She just smiled up at him, "Hey."
Their noses brushed when she glanced up, and his heart skipped a beat. Michael excused it as a quick jolt of panic at realizing how close they were. He should've moved away from her, but he was glued in place. He had to shake his head to make himself focus, "Hey. Just making sure you're going all the way down."
"Four, sir. Five… ow!" Since she made it a point to drop only her butt and stare at him expectantly, he shoved her down to the mat. Nikita glared. Michael was unbothered.
"If your butt's going to be down, then all of you needs to be down," It was his turn to shrug. He could match her asshole attitude. The solution was only pitting fire against fire. One or both of them had the chance to burn. But it was worth it to see Nikita so irritated. At least Michael wasn't the only one who could be so strongly affected by the other.
"Six, sir," Nikita huffed, pushing herself all the way up from the ground. A small proud smile pulled at her lips. Michael had to reflect the expression.
"Good. You can do the rest of your pushups from the ground. Just make sure you don't drop. You have to lower yourself slowly," Though, Michael's pride in her was quickly replaced with her further torture. She still had to learn from her punishment. Nikita gasped then groaned.
"And if I don't?" She struggled with the latest pushup. More like that one, and she might not make it all the way to twenty-five. Nikita was actually concerned at what that might mean for her. Michael was proving he wasn't as much of a pushover as she had thought. Yet, she forced her question to come out as a dare. He couldn't know she was worried or that his tactic was working. She wanted to be unflappable.
Noticing Nikita's struggle, Michael felt the urge to be more gentle with her. Except, he honestly believed his strategy was working. If he piled on more punishment, then she might try harder to not be a little shit. The only thing he could think of to take away from her was the free time scheduled later that day. He knew how much she loved to wander Division without anyone watching her. It was her own personal solace. She'd be pissed if he took that chance from her, "Bye, bye, free time this afternoon."
"God fucking… sir," Nikita cursed under her breath. She continued her pushups, though. Furious determination fueled her. It made her counting and 'sirs' harsh, yet as long as she was following Michael's asinine orders she was fine. She refused to lose her cherished alone time over something as stupid as pushups. Even if she was defiant, she wouldn't have won anything.
"There you go. Just three more. You got this," Eventually, Michael encouraged her to keep going. The words seemed to hold Nikita through to the end. She gritted out the rest of her pushups, the last 'sir' expelling on a choked breath. He beamed at her as she finished. He was genuinely proud of what she had accomplished, "And you're done. Perfect."
Nikita plopped down on the mat with a huge sigh. Her arms were shaky and her abdomen burned. But she did it. She survived the punishment, somewhat proved Michael wrong, and kept her free time. She was satisfied, if not still annoyed, "Fuck off, sir."
Chuckling softly, Michael got back on his feet. Another idea sprang to mind once he noticed the sparring mat next to them clear out. He began to remove his suit jacket and roll up the sleeves of his dress shirt. Nikita watched his movements curiously, sitting upright. He just smiled down at her and nodded towards the other mat, "Come on. Now it's time to spar."
"What?" Her shriek caused heads to turn their way. Once again, the looks were ignored.
"There's consequences to your actions, Nikita," Michael held out his hand to her. Nikita immediately slapped it away. She got to her feet on her own, and stomped towards the other mat.
"You're fucking dead," Full of venom, Nikita cursed. Michael only flashed a smug grin. The smirk didn't last long, though. It was quickly wiped away once she handed his ass to him in the sparring match. Her muscles were tired, yet her anger more than made up for it. Rage made her good- damn good. She was going to be formidable once she became an agent. Meanwhile, however, her only focus was on the free time she had rightfully earned. She left the training room uninterrupted. Yet before she exited, she shot a self-satisfied grin over her shoulder.
From his seat on the mat, Michael laughed softly to himself and smiled back at Nikita.
As they sorted through old files in Ops, looking for any information on the Dirty Thirties, Birkhoff and Nikita found themselves taking a trip down memory lane. They couldn't help but gripe about their time in Division, especially as recruits. Soon, the conversation shifted and became about Michael- despite him being in the room with them. His actions and moody behavior deserved a special mention. The nerd had to taunt him for it, "Fucking drill sergeant over there. Went all power trip on us with those 'sirs'."
"Well, yeah. He had to command respect where he could. Otherwise everyone would know he was my little bitch," Nikita smirked, and Birkhoff laughed. Michael dropped the file he was reading to glare at the two. All that did was make them laugh harder, however.
"That's it. Drop and give me twenty," It was a long shot, yet Michael had to retaliate. Instead of laughing more, Birkhoff and Nikita immediately grumbled. They followed his sharp command without thinking. Maybe it was because they were actually in Division, or because they were just talking about it, but neither argued with him.
"God, you fucking… this is ridiculous," Nikita muttered as she automatically dropped into pushup position. It took her a second to register what she was doing. One glance at Michael's smug half-smile, however, caused realization to course through her. She snapped to her feet and accosted him, "Asshole!"
While Michael laughed and Nikita smacked his arm, Birkhoff finally collapsed from his pushup position. He couldn't believe he had fallen for the prank as well. He was going to blame the fact that they were in Division. Those walls fucked with their heads all the time. Except he wouldn't allow the hellhole to keep messing with him. To cover for his blunder, he pulled out his wallet and pretended as though he were literally following the order, "Here's twenty bucks, Mikey. Take Nikki on a date before she rips your head off."
"Oh no. I'm picking the restaurant. I'm also taking another twenty," Nikita negated. Yanking Birkhoff's wallet from his hands, she removed more cash. She had wanted to go out with Michael that night anyway. The nerd paying for it just made the idea of a date night better.
"Hey! Thief!" Trying to chase after her didn't go in Birkhoff's favor. Nikita just shoved him back down. She tossed his significantly lighter wallet back at him, and began to leave.
"Take it out on Michael. He has to learn there's consequences to his actions," Nikita glanced back at her fiancé with a glare. It might've taken years, but she finally threw his words back in his face. Michael just sighed. He spared an apologetic glance at Birkhoff, then followed his fiancée on another adventure.