*8*

Lounging on the floor underneath a window between empty coffee cups and a plate littered with apple pie crumbs, Michael watched Nikita as she lay sprawled on her back relishing the warmth of the sun's rays as they fell upon her face and bare arms. The blanket from their stargazing adventure last night had been the decor of their little picnic. She had stretched out upon it when the apple pie had long since been devoured and dregs were all that remained of their coffees. There had been a lull in their conversation and Michael felt more than content just to watch her in companionable silence.

Like him, she probably didn't afford herself the luxury of leaning back and doing nothing for a change very often, which made their time together like this all the more precious. And while he tried not to dwell too much on the fact that they had less than 24 hours left to just be together, he couldn't help but think about what would happen after. They'd agreed yesterday after a few intense conversations they could make it work between them, despite their complicating circumstances. But as both of them were well aware, that wouldn't just happen on its own.

Tomorrow he'd be back at Division to serve and she would go back to taking it down piece by piece, mission by mission. Their common goal would be to take out Percy by finding and destroying his black boxes. To do that Michael would carefully gather what intel he could from the inside, but like the details of his activities, they hadn't settled on what she was going to do to reach their goal either. Nikita was fiercely independent, used to going at it alone. Her game, her rules. Michael knew there wasn't much he could change about that, but that didn't keep him from worrying.

He'd had no contact with Division since telling Percy he was with him, which also meant he didn't know anything about the going ons within the Black Ops program since then. He needed to figure out if they knew something and if so what that was so he could figure out what that meant for him and Nikita and their mission - because it was their mission now, not just hers anymore. Only if he was aware of all the facts, they would be able to adjust accordingly and only then could he keep Nikita as safe as possible. Knowing her however, he was also pretty sure she wasn't likely to sit around any longer after today. She would want to take action again and pick up where she left off as soon as possible. He also knew that making her do something she didn't really want to, was nothing short of a challenge.

He let his eyes wander over her once more. There was just something about seeing her relaxed like this. Her eyes closed and her face tilted to the sun, she looked much younger than her almost 28 years. Her beloved features once again devoid of make-up and with her hair fanned out behind her in shiny dark waves she exhibited a quality of unspoiled, almost innocent beauty and he imagined this might be what she'd look like all the time if life had been more kind to her. She'd never purposely chosen any of it except maybe for her dalliance with Ketamine, which probably wouldn't have happened either if she hadn't felt the need to numb the pain and escape the horror her young life had been filled with back then.

He knew what had happened to her all before she'd reached the age of twenty. He knew about her being shuffled around from one foster family to another, about the abuse she'd endured, about how she'd run away to try her luck on the streets and the drug abuse that had followed. He also knew a little about her struggle to escape that life, her attempts to leave the streets and the drugs behind and about the drama that had unfolded in the halfway house which landed her on death-row. All courtesy of Division's meticulous reports on every recruit unfortunate enough to be brought within its walls.

What he didn't know was what it must have been like for her. He could imagine, based on the facts he had read in Division's clinical report about her, but he didn't know how she'd lived through it. Amanda's psych evals hadn't mentioned any details about her life before Division, which led him to believe Nikita had been less than generous in divulging any information to Division's mistress of mind games. And even though she grew to confide in him about all sorts of things, including her budding relationship with Daniel - after some not so subtle prodding from his side, Nikita had never talked to him about anything from that period either.

Michael knew Nikita was as much damaged as she was formed by that part of her life. Still Michael wished, not for the first time, she could have been spared from all the brutalities she'd had to suffer at such a young age. While at the same time, he couldn't help but think that she wouldn't be who she was now if she hadn't lived through it and that would also mean she would not be in his life today.

He didn't want to imagine his life without her, he'd had a taste of it during the three years she'd been off Division's - and therefore his, radar. Three long years of not knowing were she was, if she was okay, if she was still alive. He figured he was lucky she'd even survived her life before Division and that was without considering all the things that could have happened to her when she was under the influence of Ketamine.

In a way she had been lucky, but that hadn't been all there was to her continued survival. She was strong, determined and resilient. A true survivor. And through surviving her traumatic youth and then Division too, she had developed an immensely strong moral compass, fighting not only for herself anymore but for anyone who could use her help. Alex and himself coming to mind first.

He was in awe of her, he'd seen her struggle and sometimes be thrown off kilter over the years, but she never really became unbalanced. Not even after Daniel was killed. She always picked herself up, found her focus again and moved on no matter how hard it must have been. She'd told him a couple of days ago he was the strongest person she'd ever met, but he knew that wasn't quite true. She was so much stronger than he had ever been, much stronger than she gave herself credit for.

Nikita opened her eyes and caught his gaze, her smile widening as she asked him, "What are you thinking about?". Her breathy voice stirred up all sorts of warm feelings inside him, tenderness winning out for now. Michael stretched out on his side beside her, "You". He lifted her arm and pressed his lips to the tattoo that graced the inside of it, but did not elaborate. Curling her hand around the back of his head she let her fingers run through his hair for a bit and then guided his face to hers for a kiss.

"Will you do me a favour?", he asked her as he lifted his head and cupped her cheek.

Nikita brought his head down for another short but sweet kiss, locking her eyes with his for a moment. "What?", she breathed over his lips.

"Let me find out whatever it is Division does or does not know, before you get back to foiling missions left and right." His husky voice held no recrimination, just a request, which she easily picked up on and was amused by. The corners of her mouth curling up slightly she responded, "Why?".

Michael dipped his head down and touched his lips to hers briefly once more. "You know why", he answered her softly.

She did. He didn't want her to be at risk any more than she had to be. She had voiced the same wish for him when she'd told him yesterday she didn't want him to return to Division. But just as she understood that he had to and that they would be able to use it to their advantage, he should also know she couldn't and wouldn't just stop working on Percy's demise from her side. She tilted her head a bit, searching his eyes before responding just as softly, "Are you forgetting I'm a big girl again?" Her words reminded him of their conversation not so long ago, when they'd lain in ambush for Kasim.

"You know I can take care of myself", she added gently when he didn't respond and trailed her fingers down the side of his face in a loving caress.

"That's not it...", he fell silent for a bit, searching for the right words, "... it's a risk you don't have to take." His thumb traced the edge of the now nearly invisible bruise over her cheekbone, "Just let me check and get back to you before you do anything."

She plainly recognised the plea in his eyes and voice as he spoke. He worried for her safety, she couldn't exactly fault him for that, not when the same was true in return. So she granted him his request, "Alright."

Michael released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and kissed her again before rolling to lie on his back and taking her with him. He wrapped his arms around her and hooked a leg over hers as Nikita curled herself into his side and rested her head on his chest, perfectly happy to just let him hold her and enjoying the loving strokes of his hands along her back and through her hair.

Drawing circles on his chest, she broke the silence after a few minutes of quiet contentment, "What time do you need to leave tomorrow?" When she was still in Division, Michael seemed to be always there. She could recount the times she'd seen him come in in the morning or leave in the evening clearly because there had been so few of them.

"Around 5.30."

Nikita swallowed, just a little more than half a day left. She didn't want to dwell on what they didn't have though, she'd rather focus on what they did have and so she responded with a touch of humour, "That's still well before the crack of dawn babe."

"Only a little. Sun's up at 6.41."

Nikita sniggered to herself, trust Michael to know the exact minute the sun comes up. She pressed a kiss over his heart.

"What will you be doing tomorrow?"

"Don't know yet, now that I won't be sabotaging any Division jobs", she grinned at him, coaxing a grin from him in return. "Check my sources, resupply probably", she added in that breathy tone of hers. Resting her chin on his chest she drank him in and then it hit her anew, she was going to miss him, a lot. Especially because she didn't know when she'd see him again and despite her better judgement.

He looked at her questioningly when he saw the smile fading from her eyes. Tucking a wayward wavy lock of hair behind her ear he asked her, "What is it?"

Nikita sighed, she'd never been the needy type and she didn't want to start now, but she did very much want to know, "When do you think we'll see each other again?"

Her quietly uttered question tugged at his heartstrings. He wanted to tell her he'd be back tomorrow night but the truth was, he had no idea if he would be able to or if it would even be safe. Trailing a hand through her hair he answered just as quietly, "I don't know."

Nikita swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and nodded once, breaking eye contact. She knew they would have to be very careful, that they had already taken a risk in spending these two days together. But still…

Michael was studying her reaction carefully, watching the emotions play across her face as she gazed at her hand on his chest, seemingly engrossed in the pattern her fingers were tracing there. He wondered what he could possibly say to her that would make her feel better, hell, make himself feel better, but couldn't come up with anything substantial. He placed his fingers underneath her chin and lifted his own face up to hers. "Soon", he said and then he kissed her, gently and full of promise.

Nikita exhaled slowly and nodded again, placing her head on his chest, listening to his heart beating a steady rhythm. Kissing the top of her head, Michael simply held her. He inched his hand underneath her top, placing his palm on the small of her back, his fingers fondling her warm skin. Nikita released a deep breath, concentrated on his caresses and let herself relax in his embrace.