Oh, my goodness. The season finale. No words. Except perhaps asfjkl; and fwapoey.

So, here we go! Chapter 4! Woop!

Oh, also, I forgot to do a disclaimer. First fanfic and all. I totally own Nikita, I'm just not allowed to tell you because the confidentiality agreement and everything. (Heh heh. I wish.)

Roan had found that completing missions for Percy were most difficult when he had to move through crowds of people. Constantly analyzing and re-analyzing every single person who passed by and every street corner was exhausting. The blood loss from the bullet wound in his gut clouded his mind and made the simple act of walking down the city street difficult. Street corner. If attacked: Immediate cover behind newspaper boxes. Analysis of humans: Harmless businessmen, family on holiday, potential threat: ex-military. He took a few steps forward, past the newspaper boxes, past the businessmen, past the ex-servicemen. None of them took any note of him. Ridiculous, what people do not see when they are not looking. If he kept his head down and made sure that the disfigured side of his face was against the shop window, no one gave him a second glance

The homeless man on the corner gave him pause, as it afforded enemies far too many opportunities for disguises. Objective: Destination is ahead on the left. Proceed with currently plotted course of action.

Once he got to the center for special surgery, it was imperative that he enter undetected without causing an undue fuss. No questions asked. He never would give them real answers anyway, so what was the point of pointless interrogation? A hospital stay was not in his plan and it would give Percy no advantage to lose his most effective asset while he was forced into an unnecessary "recovery" like a normal human.

He had been shot, seen people shot, and shot many people in his lifetime. He had even treated some of them. That is, he saved the few that still had a viable purpose to Percy's mission. The other ones were not so fortunate.

He only required medical supplies, and going back to Division would take far too long. If Nikita and Michael hadn't gotten what they came for, they would be back. And he would be waiting. Pure and simple. Logical.

He made it to the parking lot, and immediately identified the employee entrance. He saw a surgeon coming out just as he walked in. Excellent. Having proper identification and uniform made everything easier. Impersonating a less important figure like a nurse would be more rational, but there was always a chance of being called in to help a doctor. Plus, this surgeon was leaving, which meant that there was no reason for anyone to note his absence.

He moved determinedly towards his new target, hand casually pressed to the tender spot on his stomach, already reaching for his gun.

Alex concentrated harder than she ever had in her entire life. Why did she always end up rescuing her mothers? Maybe it's because they rescued you first.

She counted.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

Breath one, breath two

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

Breath one, breath two

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

Breath one, breath two

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

Breath one, breath two

Check for a pulse. Please, dear God, please, let there be a pulse, something.

Nothing yet.

Screw you, God.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

Breath one, breath two

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

Breath one, breath two

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

Breath one, breath two

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

Breath one, breath two

Check for a pulse.

Michael froze immediately, knowing that Roan's keen eyes would be instantly drawn to any movement in the parking lot. He slowly reached for his gun, two feet away, hardly daring to breathe.

Sean, sitting in the passenger seat, also reached for his gun.

But his eyes weren't trained on Roan.

They were trained on the surgeon that they had come to find, the only one that they were absolutely sure would know what he was doing with Nikita's injuries and the only one that they were sure had no family. Of course, he had chosen this exact moment to walk out the door. And of course, he was fumbling in his pockets for his car keys, so he didn't see Roan approaching.

Dammit. Roan's heading right for him.

There was no alternative now. If this surgeon died, it would take precious minutes that Nikita probably did not have to find a new person who could get the job done. They would have to attack Roan.

We can manage it, especially while he's injured. He's still only human. We have to manage it. For her.

"Dammit," he muttered to Sean. "We need to get out there."

Sean's only reply was the loading of his gun and the gentle creak of a slowly opening car door.

When he had heard the sounds of Alex panicking on the coms, Sean had wanted to run straight home. He knew Michael had too, for an entirely different reason. Nikita had been tough but fair, honest, and even kind to him, but he would not be completely devastated by her death. Michael, on the other hand, would probably go completely haywire.

He found himself wishing that it was Alex here on the mission with him. At least he could be sure that she always had his back. But with a small grimace, he reminded himself that he would be spending the entire mission both worrying about her and plotting the most creative new way to ask her out. Not really the kind of distraction you need when you're trying to take on Roan.

Well, at least she swears beyond 'Dammit.' Is that really all Michael is capable of saying?

He kept his eyes trained on the entrance, steeling himself to the possibility of having to knock Michael out to get him home safely if Nikita didn't make it. From the way Alex had been freaking, Nikita had probably stopped breathing.

A man walked out. Sean quickly checked it against the image he had stored on his phone of the surgeon they were supposed to be finding.

Gotcha. Mr. Branahan, prepare for an interesting day.

He was about to tell Michael, when he noticed the other man slowly reaching for his gun, as if he made any sudden movements everything would explode.

And that was when he saw Roan rapidly approaching their target.

Oh, great. Here we go.

He was moving towards the door even before Michael told him to go.

Thomas Branahan was not having a good day. First of all, nobody really seemed to appreciate his genius. Honestly, though, that wasn't anything new. It also explained why he couldn't hold down a girlfriend. But between shattering his third coffee pot in a month, and being 25 minutes late to work because of the stupid line at the stupid Starbucks, and accidently slicing his finger when cleaning his scalpel, it had been a pretty lousy day.

Now, where on earth are those stupid car keys?

To be sure, Mr. Thomas Branahan knew his way around a human body blindfolded, and he could perform a perfect surgery at two in the morning, running only on coffee.

But it was currently three in the afternoon, it seemed he had been working continuously for a ridiculously long time, and his car keys were currently eluding him.

Mr. Thomas Branahan was currently so self-absorbed that he failed to notice the large neon yellow-and-pink sign across the way that was currently advertising a Pepto Bismol pink Jacuzzi with some free HD sunglasses thrown in.

He noticed only the excellent quality of his imported leather shoes, and the rather annoying depth of the pocket where he put his car keys.

So, of course, the two converging assassins and the Navy Seal, all armed and dangerous, escaped the surgeon's notice.

Nikita stepped into the black, finally feeling the last vestiges of the red slipping from her mind. She found the black was not simply an ocean as she had previously thought, it had stairways and levels. She heard the voices swirling around her. Some of them she knew, and some of them she did not.

A great light shone through the blackness, illuminating the shadowy figures all around her.

But then another voice cut through the red, the grey, and the black-that-was-not-truly black, and she recognized it.

It was not so much a voice, she realized, as a hand. She felt the hand grab onto her, latching onto her arm and dragging her upwards no matter how forcefully she tried to resist. But the black was light, it was liquid, it was everything and it was nothing. She had nothing to push off of, no way to give herself any leverage.

She squirmed against the firm grip, but the hand felt familiar, somehow. She almost could taste the name upon her tongue, when she was pulled into the grey once again, and lost it to the void.

She swirled through the grey, spiraling slowly upwards towards the red. Sometimes she would fall down, ever so little. But the hand was resolute, it refused to let her go no matter how much she wished that it would. She could not see so much as sense the red above her, and her mind shrank from the prospect of the pain that awaited her.

But then the red overtook her once again. She delved into the pain, feeling it rip through her consciousness once more.

Was that…. A breath? Holy crap, Alex did it!

Birkhoff let out a long shuddering sigh. He realized that he had been holding his breath for as long as he could remember.

Probably wouldn't be good if I fainted. Fainting isn't particularly badass.

But it didn't really matter how cool he looked right now, though, cuz Alex sure looked way to beat to be admiring his awesomeness, and Niki was back.

In the end, if Niki was back, life was good. She might have f*cked up the entire world, for all he cared, she was still the most beautiful person he had ever met, inside and out.

Of course, expressing that lovely kind of mushiness in front of Alex wasn't going to earn him any macho points, and eloquently expressing his feelings for Niki definitely wouldn't earn him bro points with Mikey.

Oh, crap. Mikey.

Well, I totally didn't break the bros-before-hoes deal, right there. Way to go, genius, abandoning two guys on a mission.

Although... plenty of delicious opportunities for sarcastic comebacks, coming up.

I'm gonna need some nachos if I'm going to have to deal with that.

But just as he was about to start scrounging around in the cabinets for some chips that weren't too Nikita-veggie-healthy or too disgustingly old, he heard the crackle of the coms from his computer.

He sighed.

Ah, the call of duty. Seriously dude, no waiting for my nachos? No?

But he smiled as he headed back over to his computer. Because he was probably about to do some awesome hacker stuff, because Niki was alive for now, and because he was about to argue with Michael. Hey, what's not to smile about?

His smile lasted right up until Mikey said Roan.

Holy freakin' llamas. The Terminator's back online.

So….. How is it so far? Do you like where this is going? SORRY SORRY SORRY for taking a bit to update. Finals start on Thursday, so my life is a bit crazy right now. 3 BTW, you guys kill me with your reviews. I freaking love you all.