**Freedom**

It was the one thing that Nikita had longed for the most and the one thing she had never really had. She could almost pretend, sitting on the ledge of the abandoned clinic, that it was an option for her. The hours before pre-dawn were the most peaceful. It was when the city was at it's quietest and you could glimpse slivers of the sky above through the city lights. She closed her eyes, savoring the burn of the cold winter wind as it danced across her skin and tugged playfully at her long, loose hair. The scent in the air warned of snow but it wouldn't happen for another few nights. She wished that she could be out when it finally fell. She missed the Russian winters. They were harsh, deadly even... but extremely beautiful. She sighed lightly and forced herself to rise. She didn't have much time left before she was forced to report back to her Master. Taking one last look at the cityscape, she placed a hand on the ledge and slipped over the side. Seconds later she landed with a soft thud and pulled the shadows around her. No one saw her pass by as they huddled around burning barrels, hoping that the feeble fires would chase away the chill.

She had one more place to go before she had to return to her Master.

# # # # # #

She knew where to find the building because she had come across it earlier. She knew it was the right one because his scent, both old and fresh, was all over the area. She had come across the same scents of other people mingled with his in different areas of the city. They belongs to his companions but she hasn't been able to get close enough to identify which person held which scent.

She moved deeper into the shadows and leaned against the edge of the building with her arms crossed. The hoodie was once more pulled low to conceal her face. She could blend into the shadows effortlessly in her natural form but the moon-pale hair could give her away of the right person spotted it.

As she waited, she wondered if Oliver had found her warning. It had been so long since she had left a message for him that she wasn't even sure if he still remembered. And if he did, did he realize that it was more then just a warning of danger? She had no way of knowing. Nikita straightened up. The winter wind had warned her of his approach before she was even able to see him. Once in her sights though, it didn't take her long to recognize which one he was...even at this distance. The green suit had been heavily modified but it resembled the outfit he wore on the island enough. She could read frustration and tension in the body language of him and his friends. She cocked her head lightly. Was it because of the warning or of something else?

As if sensing eyes on him, Oliver turned, his masked gaze scanning the street. Nikita remained still, barely breathing, as she tugged on the shadows that surrounded her, forcing them to deepen. "Oliver, what's the matter?" The girl in the red leather rested a hand on his arm as she come to stand beside him. She looked from him to the direction he was looking. Finally he turned away "Nothing, speedy." He said as they started to walk in.

Pain suddenly blazed through her, almost driving her to her knees. She bit down on her bottom lip hard enough to bleed. After a few seconds, the pain finally subsided enough for her to breath again. She staggered shakily to her feet, using the wall for support.

She had run out of time, her Master was summoning her.

# # # # # #

Nikki stood with her head bowed, her arms resting behind her back. She did not move and did not speak. Her Master was sitting behind a large mahogany desk, a small silver penknife twisting between his fingers as he watched her silently. Fear crept up her spine but she pushed it down, forcing herself not to raise her gaze from the floor. The scent of the knife burned her nose. As the silence extended, the fear was getting harder to ignore. The instinct to fight had been beat out of her but the instinct to run was still there and it took everything in her power not to listen. She wouldn't get far and she knew it. The Master had many ways to control her...and he had many, many ways to make you beg for death.

"The contract.." Her legs almost buckled in relief as the Master finally broke the silence. "..you will fulfill tomorrow is a very special one." He pushed the chair out from the desk and stood. His footsteps were measured as he walked around Nikita, pausing just behind her. She wanted to raise her head, she wanted to keep him in her sights but the promise of pain kept her unmoving. "Our client, Mr. Dahrk is having an issue with a meddling vigilante and he is tired of playing." He walked back to stand before her. "If you fail..." He raised the pen knife and gently slid the flat of the blade down her cheek. Tears welled unbidden in her eyes as the knife burned her skin. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming but she couldn't stop the instinctive flinch from the blade. He flipped the knife and slowly pressed in. Blood spilled from the slice as he slowly dragged it down. She managed to push the pain away temporarily and not finch again. He steps back and looks at her. "Your punishment will be worse then anything you have yet to experience." He turned his back to her and retook his seat behind the desk.

"Now go."

Nikita turned on her heel and silently left the room to return to her cell.