Set after 1x18 "Into the Dark". Mikita discuss London, and Alex finds out about them.
"Does Division have supersonic air travel now? How are you getting places so fast?" Nikita probably should've been surprised by Michael's presence in her loft. But after weeks together, he had become a permanent figure in her home. She actually would've been disappointed if he wasn't there waiting for her after she returned from London. She didn't think she could ever happily walk into her empty safehouse again. It was always better with him there.
Michael had left London before Nikita. While she took care of Owen, he debriefed with Percy. After leaving Division, he thought about returning to his apartment and waiting for Nikita to call. Instead, Michael cleaned up, packed a bag, and went to the loft. He felt far more comfortable and free there. He could actually relax as he waited for her; he could also doze off a little on the soft, warm bed that smelled so wonderfully of her. He didn't really mean to fall asleep. However, it was nice to wake up to her voice, even if he was confused that it was only her returning from London, "Where's Owen?"
"He's going on a personal journey. You know, find a way off the regimen, try and figure out what exactly he's trying to do by going rogue. He wants to heal himself on his own, which I kinda get," Nikita sighed. She had tried to bring Owen with her to the safehouse; it was better if the team of rogues were all together. Yet she understood why he needed to be on his own for a while. Between losing his girlfriend, going rogue, and the regimen withdrawal, Owen needed time to figure things out. As helpful and supportive as the team could be, there were just some things they had to do on their own. A self-journey was one of them.
"He just doesn't want to be a danger to anyone again," Sitting up on the bed and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Michael understood Owen's decision. He had hurt Nikita and nearly destroyed the world; he needed time away from others. Hopefully, he could fully heal then, and from more than just the regimen withdrawal.
Nikita just shrugged. She removed her rain splattered coat, dropped her mission bag, and moved further into her loft. When she went on missions outside the state, she turned off all the power and heat in her loft. She didn't want to waste energy while she was away for who knew how long. So as she shed her wet coat, she expected to be hit with a freezing blast of air. Instead, her loft was incredibly warm. She glanced at Michael, who was comfortably sitting in short sleeves, in surprise. He smiled at her, "Did you turn my heat on?"
"I know how much you hate the cold," Michael rose from the bed and crossed to her. Nikita's smile bloomed. He didn't simply remember she hated being cold, he knew her. Even after three years apart, and months of fighting, he still knew her. Her smile couldn't reflect how much she loved that fact.
"It's way colder here than it was in London," Rubbing her cold hands together, Nikita complained. When she had stepped off the plane and hurried to a vehicle to take back to her loft, she nearly froze. The short walk from the street to her building also had her shaking violently. The weather she returned to was so much worse than what she left. She sort of wished she never returned at all because of that.
"It's the rain," Taking Nikita's hands in his, Michael rubbed some warmth into her fingers. The sun and lack of wind and rain in London helped them survive the bitter cold. But the damp air and rainstorms in New York made everything so much colder and worse. The two were lucky to be inside together. They could keep each other safe and warm.
"Fucking rain," Nikita grumbled. Michael chuckled. He breathed hot air on her hands, and gently pulled her closer to him. She came willingly.
Michael remembered how often Nikita used to complain about the cold. Freezing rain, cold snaps, and snow had received harsh verbal assaults from her. That was partly why he was surprised she set up shop in New York. Yes, tactically it made sense to have a safehouse close to Division. Also, she did love all the different food she could eat and shopping she could do in the city. But Michael was surprised she was even there. She had gotten out of Division; she was free. She could be miles away, warm and happy. She deserved that at least, "You know, I half expected to find you on some tropical beach somewhere. Always warm and always happy."
Nikita grinned softly. She had once thought about running away to live on a beach and bask in the warm sunshine. She had wanted to do that with Daniel, and she was beginning to want to run away with Michael. However, there were things she had to do. Division needed to be taken down before she could truly be free. She couldn't have peace while she could do something to stop the evil and corruption. Though, she could be happy. Every second she spent with Michael, she became even happier and warmer. He was her own paradise, "No, I'm stuck here. But I'm getting happier each day with you."
Smiling brighter and warmer than any sun, Michael brought Nikita's arms around his neck and kissed her adoringly. She beamed into the affection, until he touched her waist. As he hugged her tightly, she winced. Michael quickly drew back. That was the second time she groaned in pain after he held her. She was far more hurt than he had thought. Worried, he anxiously looked Nikita over, "Where exactly are you injured?"
"The better question is where aren't I injured," Nikita sighed. After so many fights and incidents, she was bruised all over. It would take days to recover. She could manage, she'd just be stiff and uncomfortable.
"Can I see?" Michael asked cautiously. He was curious about Nikita's injuries. He knew she had been hurt, but she never explained how badly. If she was still in pain, it must've been serious. He just hoped it wasn't fatal.
"It's just bruising. I can breathe fine, so nothing's cracked or anything," As Michael helped her remove her sweater, Nikita reassured. Her bruising wasn't that bad. Sure it looked deep, dark, and horrific. But it was only skin deep. She could move and breathe; she was fine.
"Owen did this to you?" Michael's gaze turned dark. Nikita's bruising stretched all the way down her right arm and side; the purple splotches even expanded down her hip and thigh. He slid down the waistband of her jeans to get a better look at the damage. Although he tried to heal her with his touch, he knew it wasn't enough. She was beaten badly. And he knew exactly who to blame for that.
Caressing Michael's cheek, Nikita tried to soothe him. He had instantly known Owen was the one who had caused her pain back in London. Yet they had already gone over that. It was time to move past the mission and the terrifying regimen withdrawal and just relax. Besides, there were plenty of things that had hurt her in the field other than Owen. She was simply hesitant to admit one of them, "No. This is from the Guardian, the strike team… and a car…"
"He hit you with a car!" Michael couldn't stop himself from shouting. He knew he should've taken the shot when he had it. Owen had almost killed Nikita because of his inane obsession. Michael couldn't let that action go unpunished.
"You said it yourself. Owen wasn't himself; his brain was fried. And he just pushed me in front of a slow moving vehicle to stop me, not to kill me. I'm fine," Gripping Michael's hand, Nikita stopped him from rushing off and doing something stupid. The regimen withdrawal had been controlling Owen's actions; if he had been in his right mind, he never would have hurt her. But it was all okay then. Owen had the regimen, and Nikita was safe and sound. Michael didn't have to worry about a thing, "Come on. You know I've had worse. In fact, I was once…"
Noticing the troubled expression on Michael's face, Nikita stopped herself from admitting she had been poisoned. If he could barely handle the fact that she had been hit by a car, then she definitely couldn't tell him Gogol had once poisoned her. Any thought of her in danger seemed to twist him up inside. She wondered if he felt like that when they were on opposing sides of the war. Had he always been worried about her, or had the feeling grown stronger with their new relationship. What exactly was going through his head, "What?"
Gently, Nikita cupped Michael's chin in her hands and made his green eyes connect with her brown. He sighed. He had hated how long it had taken him to reach her in London after he found out about the regimen. He knew she'd be in danger, yet he wasn't able to protect her. Maybe if he wasn't in Division anymore. Then he could always keep Nikita safe, "If I had just been there sooner…"
"No. We're not doing 'what ifs'. I'm okay. I'm here with you now. That's way more important. I can kiss you all I want, and you can keep me warm in your arms," Nikita shut down that train of thought immediately. The two could drown themselves in 'what ifs' if that was all they thought about. They needed to focus on the positives of where they were rather than the tragedies of the past. Where they were could be perfect if they just lived in the moment.
"I can definitely keep you warm," Michael smirked. Although Nikita shook her head, she threw her arms back around his neck and kissed him. He was far more gentle as he held her waist that time. She was able to melt into the affection rather than jerk away in pain.
Before the couple could move their kissing to the bed, unfortunately, they heard an interruption coming up the stairs. At least Alex introduced herself before walking in on them. They weren't as surprised as they had been with Owen, "Hey, Nikita. You wanted to talk?"
"Every fucking time," Michael muttered against Nikita's lips. She rolled her eyes as she scoffed and (regretfully) moved away from him. She had to fix her jeans and pull her sweater back on before Alex reached them. The young woman had been through a lot of stress and shocks lately. The rogue couldn't add to it.
It was too late, though. Nikita was able to right her pants, but Michael distracted her from pulling on her sweater. He stole one last touch of her soft skin and one more kiss from her lips before Alex entered the room. That was what she walked in on; Nikita and Michael pulled away from each other with dreamy smiles and sparkling eyes. Alex couldn't fathom it. She also couldn't fathom Michael outside Division and outside a suit (who knew he actually owned jeans and a t-shirt). Nothing made sense. So she just focused on the one thing she could wrap her head around- the one danger that was present, "What's Michael doing here?"
"Whoa, hey. Alex. It's okay. He's with us- with me," Noticing Alex reach for her gun under her coat, Nikita protectively stepped in front of Michael. Michael also raised his hands in a placating gesture. It was alright. No one was there to hurt anyone.
Alex would've believed that had she not seen the extensive bruising along Nikita's side. Fury burned in her bright blue eyes. She grabbed her gun and waved it threateningly at Michael, "Did he do that to you?"
"What? No. No. I got that in the field. It's okay," Nikita slowly approached Alex, keeping her body in front of Michael's. She smiled softly to show she was okay and tried to calm the young agent down. Alex wasn't able to relax, however, until she saw Michael's expression. Her accusation had upset him. Not because she had said it, but because he had led her to believe he could actually do such a thing to Nikita. She finally lowered her weapon. There was definitely more going on than Alex knew. They needed to start catching her up immediately.
"Owen pushed her in front of a car," Still upset, Michael attempted to explain. He only confused Alex more however, especially with how angry he sounded.
"And you once launched a grenade at him," Finally throwing on her sweater, Nikita huffed. Michael only rolled his eyes. Alex just continued to stare. Nothing they were saying alleviated her bewilderment. In fact, the two only made it worse.
While Michael and Nikita glared in annoyance at each other, Alex busied herself with putting away her gun and shedding her rain-soaked coat. There had to be some way she could figure out what was occurring. Michael had to be in the loft for a reason. There also had to be a reason why he saved her from Amanda. He wouldn't just lie for her, unless he was planning something. Or unless he knew she was the mole. Or unless Nikita had asked him to. Glancing between the two, Nikita's words quickly caught up with her. Michael wasn't just with the rogues- he was with Nikita. Alex gasped, "Wait. Are you… are you together-together?"
"Yeah," Nikita stated simply. Michael nodded. He almost made a comment about how Alex figured that out faster than Owen, yet he bit his tongue. There was no point in being mean to the former Cleaner then. Explaining things to Alex was the greater concern.
"Since when?" Alex didn't care that she shrieked. She had always guessed that there was something going on between Michael and Nikita, but she had never thought that they actually acted on it. How long had that been going on. Did she miss something important while she was distracted by Nathan and Amanda. How much did she miss. What the hell was going on.
"Since your trip to the Hamptons," Nikita glanced at Michael to confirm, and he nodded. They had only been together for a few weeks, but it had been some of the best few weeks of their lives. They honestly couldn't wait for more like it.
"Wait. The one that you let me go on? So when you came back to Division all moody, when you let me go, you then came here and… he knew where you were this whole time… that was two weeks ago… Why didn't you say anything? What the fuck is happening?" Stammering, Alex tried to piece together what had happened. Had Michael known about the loft. Was why he was so moody two weeks ago because of Nikita. If all of that was happening, why wasn't she told anything. Did it have anything to do with the broken computer and mission Nikita refused to tell her about. What kind of adventures had she been missing out on.
"We've been trying to figure things out first. We needed to catch up, figure out what comes next and how things change, actually talk and communicate," Gently, Nikita explained. She knew she should've told Alex everything sooner. But it was important for her and Michael to figure things out on their own first. Their relationship needed to be solid before they brought others in on the secret. Also, Nikita wanted to just exist in a bubble with Michael for a while; she wanted to pretend it was only them in the entire world.
"Do you know who I am?" Cautiously, Alex asked Michael. She figured he knew she was the mole- he wasn't surprised by her presence in the loft, and he had covered for her with Amanda- but did he know why she was trying to take down Division. Could Michael be that trustworthy. A part of Alex believed he was. After all, he had once sworn to do everything he could to keep her safe, and he had followed through on that promise. Judging by the way Nikita talked about him and stuck by his side, Alex could guess that Michael had kept a lot of promises he had made to her as well. Despite his gruff demeanor, he was one of the good ones.
Michael considered just admitting that he knew Alex was Alexandra Udinov. However, he wanted to gain her complete trust, and he wanted to prove that he was completely trustworthy. In order to do that, he had to offer up a part of himself. He needed to be as honest as possible, "I know you're trying to get revenge for your family, like me."
"Division killed your family too? What?" Alex went right back to shrieking in shock. She was never going to not be confused. Each new piece of information only bewildered her further.
"I just found out. Nikita helped me uncover the truth," Approaching Alex, Michael tried to help her out. He knew it was a lot to take in all at once (no wonder Nikita had wanted to wait). Yet it was important to learn. The three were all on the same team. There should be no more secrets between them. They needed to trust and believe in each other above all else.
"Come on. There's a lot to discuss," Taking a hopelessly confused Alex by the hand, Nikita led her to the makeshift livingroom. Michael followed. The three should sit down before further revelations were revealed. They should also order themselves some food; it was going to be a long day. But getting all that information out would be worth it. They'd truly be a team of rogues. And once they were all on the same page, Division wouldn't stand a chance. A warm and happy future was definitely ahead of them.
