Chapter 13 Exodus

Alex stopped abruptly inside the doorway, clutching her bags as she stared at him. She'd let herself in by the back and come up the stairs quietly, catching him in the act of getting dressed. At her entrance he froze, slowly turning his head to look at her. Feeling the power of his gaze clear across the room she smiled, forcing herself to keep from asking how he felt.

It was obvious: his lips were stiffly set with pain as he finished easing the yoke of his flannel shirt up over his injured shoulders and upper back. Eyes never leaving hers, they warned that he didn't want to discuss his injuries, so she gave him a soft "hi" as she walked toward him. Unable to look away, she watched him slowly lower his arms, a movement which played out in slow motion as he gathered the edges of his shirt over what looked like a finely muscled chest. Heart thumping at the look in his eyes, she decided that the sprinkling of dark hair she'd seen at the center of his chest was just the right amount. Glancing back up, she knew he'd caught her interested gaze, which seemed to please him.

"Hi yourself," he replied softly, his lips relaxing toward a smile, though his gaze was intent with longing. The subdued lighting made his hair glow like burnished bronze and the atmosphere in the loft was warm and steamy. Beneath the clean scent of shampoo and soap emanating from him she caught the scent of something he'd cooked, which made her stomach almost growl with hunger.

"You took a shower?" she asked softly, feeling a little nervous beneath his intense expression.

At her question his eyes left her face, flitted down her throat to brush her breasts and then returned. "I did—you look tired," he said huskily.

"It was a long day," she sighed, stretching her shoulders back to relieve the tension in her neck. "I tried to leave earlier but Amanda kept coming into Operations...I didn't want her to suspect anything."

He nodded, grimacing with sarcasm. "Can't have that, can we?"

She waited, but he said nothing more. Just before she turned away he bent toward her, kissing her gently on the lips as his hand caught her elbow. She reached up, touching his upper arm when he didn't lift his head. Breathing in his scent, she felt his lips touch hers again in a tentative kiss as his other hand covered hers. Then he took the bags from her, surprising her. She looked up to catch his enigmatic smile.

"You hungry?"

She nodded, wondering what it was about his kiss that affected her so deeply. "I missed lunch, and something smells really good…"

He glanced toward the dining area, where she saw the table set. "I ordered delivery—stuffed shells and salad. Want some?"

Basking in the navy fire of his eyes she decided his color was better. He looked rested, well on the road to recovery. "I'd love some."

He left her side to go to the stove, and as she followed him she glanced at the stacks of files and papers by the computer. He set down her bags and pulled back her chair, waiting for her to sit down. Then he began to serve her.

"It's still pretty warm," he explained, clearing his throat as she poured herself a glass of water.

"Thanks…what did you do all day?" she asked, leaning her elbows on the table as she watched. He spooned a generous portion of salad and stuffed shells onto her plate, glancing up at her with a smirk.

"Worked in Dr. Frankenstein's Virtual Lab," he sighed, setting the plate before her and nodding toward Nikita's computer. "I finished the program to deactivate your chip, which needs to be done before midnight."

"Or I turn into a pumpkin?" she asked, picking up her fork as he nudged a bowl of garlic bread toward her and sat opposite her.

He laughed softly, picking up a piece of bread and waving it toward her. "Something like that…"

She swallowed a piece and stabbed some shells. "Anything else?"

His brows shot up as he chewed, then swallowed. "I read for a while, caught up on some sleep and managed to shower— which went fairly well except for the time factor."

She bowed her head with a smile. "I'm impressed."

He eyed her, but when she continued eating he reached gingerly for the wine and opened it. "What'd you do in Operations?"

Swallowing, she shrugged. "Just helped out running some searches, then I trained for a few hours and got in some target practice. Michael called in late afternoon with orders to interview the new recruits."

"More new recruits?" he marveled, shaking his head. "God—where do they get them?"

She stabbed a forkful of salad, smiling at his dark expression. "Same place they got us."

"Why doesn't anything ever change there?" he complained, lifting his glass to touch it to hers in a toast. "To freedom, soon gained."

She clicked his glass, holding his gaze as they drank. She noted that he hadn't poured himself much and decided it must be due to his pain meds. He'd already announced a few days ago that he planned to wean himself down, but mixing the two wasn't the best idea. Leaning back, she swallowed contentedly.

"Thanks—this is delicious," she declared as he nodded. "So you ate before?"

"'Fraid so," he sighed lustily, "can't take the antibiotics on an empty stomach."

"How long til you're finished with them?"

"Five more days," he moaned, glancing around the apartment. "It's hard to believe I've been here that many already."

She stared at his profile, sensing the restlessness in him. "In a hurry to leave, Birkhoff?"

He swerved his gaze back to hers, his brow furrowed. "To tell the truth I was, at first."

She lifted her glass for another taste of the wine. "And now?"

He smiled, starting to lean back before catching himself. "Not without you, princess."

"Good," she declared, tilting her head to study him. "So what's the plan?"

His eyes lit with interest as he lifted his water glass and drank half, then set it down carefully. "Tonight we fry your tracker chip and I'll monitor you closely to make sure you don't have any adverse effects."

"So now you do brain surgery?"

"Of course," he teased, shaking his head. "Actually Roan gave me a list of side effects and treatments, and the number of a neurologist he knows if you don't check out or do well—the guy's attached to a local ER not far from here."

She was amazed. "You're still in touch with Roan?"

"Sure am, when it comes to you," he admitted unflinchingly. "Why, he creep you out? Trust me, in his case looks are only semi-deceiving, but I'm still treading lightly."

She pouted. "And I thought you guys were best buds by now!"

"Whoa—not quite ready for that," he laughed good-naturedly. "But I do admit he's definitely a changed man, it seems."

"We will be too, once we're out," she predicted. "So, after I go offline, get my privacy back and make it through alright what's next?"

"First I want to be sure you're through the process and feeling fine," he stated, smiling a bit wolfishly. "Then I thought we'd turn down the lights and make out for a few hours."

She laughed, holding his warm gaze. "Is that right?"

"Well Princess, we are engaged even though informally," he hinted. "Plus Nikita seems to be pulling another late-nighter…"

Sliding off her stool she went to his side. "Is that all?" she said close to his ear. "Just make out?"

He stared at her closely, expelling a tense breath. "For now, yeah. Why—have something else in mind?"

She reached up and gently stroked his hair back off his temple. "Well, I do admit to having wanted to run my hands through your hair…"

He turned toward her, coming off his stool as he moved closer. "Really? Strange, but I've had the same desire concerning your hair."

He lifted a hand to the back of her neck, gently massaging the tight muscles there. His hands felt warm and capable, and he seemed to know exactly how to knead the knots away. She reached up, gripping his elbows and closing her eyes with a sigh.

"That's it, just relax," he encouraged softly, one hand gently plowing into her hair. Sighing with pleasure, she lifted her face as he stepped closer.

"That feels soo good," she choked, blindly sliding her hand over his heart as it started to beat faster.

"I'm glad," he whispered, his lips gently touching hers as his hands held the back of her head.

She pressed gently against him, feeling his support as he wrapped one arm around her back. Returning his tentative kisses, she felt them change and fire her desire for him. "I thought we were going to wait till later."

"The best laid plans…" he sighed, gently tracing the curve of her lips with his fingertip. "You're just too hard to resist."

She laughed softly, lifting her face for his kiss. "Well I like it so far," she admitted softly.

He opened his eyes, studying her closely. "You ain't seen nothin' yet, Princess."

Just then a timer buzzed on the computer and he glanced over at it, his hands resting on her shoulders as she buried her face against his neck.

"Sorry," he breathed in frustration, pulling back a bit as she looked up. "We've got to do it soon—"

"But this is so much more fun," she sighed, rising on her toes to kiss him again.

"Whoa, whoa there sweetheart," he moaned, easing away from her. "You're tempting me too much, and we really need to do this for you."

"Nooo," she protested, slipping her arms around his waist but stopping when he gasped gently. Looking up, she saw him try to hide a wince of pain. "What did I do?" she gasped in regret.

"Nothing," he croaked, forcing a smile and bending to kiss her again.

"Oh no!" she gasped, her eyes wide. "I forgot all about your tracker incision—"

"I'm fine," he answered, sliding his hand into her hair. "Forget it…"

She gazed up at him, kissing him gently with a smile. "I'll go more gently with you, from now on."

He grimaced at her comment. "Thanks, I think."

"Just until you're fully recovered," she added.

"That's reassuring," he smirked, nodding toward the second timer buzz. "Come on—"

"But I really like this part of your plan, Daniel," she reassured him, letting him lead her by the hand to the workstation.

"That's gratifying," he said hoarsely as she moved closer, sliding her arms around him again but higher up. Inserting her nose inside his collar, she felt him freeze as she kissed the side of his neck twice. Then she abruptly let go, stepping back and assuming a businesslike expression.

"I'm ready now," she said, nodding encouragingly as he ran a hand through his hair.

"I ah…" he started, clearing his throat and laughing tightly while she sat down before the monitor and waited, looking up at him expectantly. He pulled his gaze from her face and stared blankly at the screen. "Ah—maybe we should…"

"Let's do it," she gushed, smiling mischievously at him as he slid onto the stool and poised his hands over the keyboard.

With a frown he started programming the timer while she leaned closer, reaching down to slide her fingertips across the top of his thigh. He squinted at the screen, his fingers hesitating at the typing. As she waited and kept it up, he looked like he was going to choke. But he kept his eyes on the screen.

"Ah, Alex…"

"Am I distracting you, Birkhoff?"

"Yeah," he croaked, typing with his left hand and catching her wayward fingers in his other. "Not that I'm complaining."

When he smiled she leaned close and kissed his cheek while he worked. Easing back into place, she watched as he finished a progression of commands before stopping, gazing at her and then pulling her in for a hungry, deeply satisfying kiss. Then he released her, turning back to continue programming and leaving her hungry for more. She took note of the answering smile playing about his lips.

"Hullo—I'm home!" Nikita's voice echoed up the stairwell.

He glanced over at her with a smirk. "Parent Over Shoulder—time to behave," he warned quietly as Nikita breezed into the loft and sniffed the aroma of pasta.

"Am I too late for dinner?"

Alex swallowed a laugh as Nikita came toward them, pulling off her scarf. "What's that I smell? Garlic bread?"

"You're just in time for deactivation," Birkhoff droned, stabbing the last few keys and gesturing toward the dining area. "Grab some dinner so we can get started."

"Birkhoff ordered stuffed shells and salad too," Alex stated proudly, threading her fingers through his despite his intense concentration on what he was typing.

"My favorites!" Nikita gasped, rushing off toward the table. "You guys just eat?"

"Pretty much," Alex answered, turning to gaze after her. "I'm glad you came to hold my hand for support."

Nikita held a piece of bread to her lips, eyes missing nothing. "You've already got Birkhoff's hand, but I'll be glad to cheer you on. By the way," she teased, "you guys make such an adorable couple!"

Birkhoff turned to glare at her over his shoulder while Alex pecked him on the cheek. He turned back to the monitor, looking embarrassed.

"Don't we?" she had to agree with Nikita, resting her head on his good shoulder.

"You definitely do," Nikita sighed, spooning food onto a plate. "I'm so hungry—by the way I'm leaving around 2 to catch the red eye to Miami. Michael and I are rendezvousing there for an op so you'll have the place all to yourselves. We should be there a few days."

"That's good," Birkhoff droned quietly as he worked, smiling as she playfully slapped his knee."

"When's the wedding? I don't want to miss that," Nikita checked, coming toward them with her plate.

Alex shrugged while Birkhoff looked up at her. "We'll have to do it soon," he warned, holding her gaze. "Like this week. We need to be at our destination by the 12th for everything to go according to plan. Which leaves a civil ceremony…"

Alex studied his profile, now that he was back to his screen. "I assumed we'd just go to a justice of the peace," she admitted, having no idea what he'd been thinking of before this moment. "That would be my preference."

"You sure?" he asked, threading his fingers through hers despite Nikita's interested gaze. His eyes found and held hers captive. "I don't want you to feel deprived of a real wedding."

She shrugged. "We can always do something later, when we can all relax."

"Fine with me," he sighed, glancing back toward the monitor. "JP it is, the sooner the better—unless you mind not being here Niki?"

Swallowing, her brows shot up. "Who you going to have be your witness—Roan?"

Birkhoff chuckled while Alex gasped in horror. "Frankly, he'd be a great best man," he answered, glancing up at her. "Nothing will get past him to run interference."

"They'll provide you witnesses, actually," Nikita said thoughtfully, taking another bite of her dinner. Waving her fork, she continued. "'But you guys should have a real wedding at some point and I want to be there, Michael too—it doesn't have to be big, just memorable."

Birkhoff leaned back a bit, looking up at them. "For now, first things first—let's get Alex out from under Division control, shall we?"

"Amen to that," she agreed, eyeing Alex fondly. "It shouldn't hurt a bit, though you might feel a little out of it afterward."

"I'm in good hands," Alex agreed, meeting Birkhoff's gaze.

"I have seen it done once before," Nikita reassured them, glancing over his shoulder at the monitor. "And our genius here knows what he's doing, of that you can be sure."

"And lest we forget, Roan helped too," he added, shaking his head as he handed Alex the headphones.

"Dr. Who, I presume," Nikita sighed, setting her plate down and helping Alex adjust the gear. She pulled at the extension wires as Alex got up. "Sit in the easy chair, so you'll be comfortable."

"Ok," Alex breathed, eyeing Birkhoff. "Can I brush my teeth first?"

He smirked, glancing over at her. "I'd let the taste of garlic linger…it might have a beneficial effect."

"Yeah, it'll give you dreams of dining in the Mediterranean," Nikita agreed, "as opposed to playing lab rat in New York City."

Rubbing his temples, Birkhoff glanced tiredly over at the clock. It wouldn't be long before dawn, he realized as he gazed out over the city skyline toward the faint glow of light in the east. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to be patient until the ibuprofen began to touch his pounding headache. He'd needed it in lieu of holding the pain meds for his back, not about to go on them again for anything. The lashes that had cut into his shoulders and back were finally healing, and yesterday Nikita had graciously removed all the stitches for him while Alex was working at Division. He thought of Nikita and Michael together in Miami now, working on an op yet able to spend some rare time together for a few days.

Returning his gaze to Alex, he longed for the day when they too could leave and be together. He studied her while she slept, smiling gently at the way she lay on her side, hands tucked beneath her cheek with her hair spread all around her. She was beautiful inside and out—a real princess, now lying aloof in her own secret and silent world of dreams. He still marveled at her presence in his life, hardly able to believe that she was interested in him, but thankful nevertheless. He remembered how their paths had crossed and re-crossed ever since she'd been hauled into Division, their initial reactions to each other clashing, then over time changing and improving. She was feisty, clever and tough and for some reason took him more seriously than anyone ever had, apparently seeing beyond his crass and cynical behavior to the person he was deep inside. The one he kept closed off from everyone else, til her. Because of this he was drawn to her but wary, careful when their interactions led to joking, teasing, friendship, flirting and finally and to his amazement, to romance. Who would have thought anyone would ever be interested in him again? Or that he'd have any opportunity to pursue that interest?

As he considered their relationship he was felt himself suddenly overcome with an unexpected wave of guilt and shame from his past. Gripping him by the throat, he felt himself choke beneath its power and strength. Struggling to breathe, he shoved away the intrusive memories in an effort to pull himself together. Getting to his feet he walked toward the windows and tried concentrating on the lights of the city and the different landmarks, struggling to distract himself until they began to fade. Then with shaking hand he shoved his hair back off his forehead and took a few more slow and deep breaths until they left him. He leaned his hand against the railing and gazed up at the half moon overhead, surprised that they'd surfaced again, and so soon.

Interrupted by a chime from Nikita's computer he realized it was an incoming email and slowly walked toward it, glancing back at Alex as he passed her and finding her still asleep. Gripping the mouse he shifted it until the screen lit up and sat before it, squinting at the heading and shaking his head in wonder. With a thick swallow against his dry throat, he opened it and quickly read the contents, noting the time as Pacific Standard:

Birkhoff, I owe you—found my wife and son, thanks to your help. We're working on learning how to communicate again, after so long. Unbelievable as it seems, my wife waited for me... If there's anything I can do for you let me know. I mean it— anything. Roan

He typed back quick congratulations and sent it off. Rising stiffly, he dared to ease his shoulders back in a tentative stretch that hurt less but still pulled unnaturally at his skin. Eyeing the approaching dawn, he walked back to Alex's side to stand staring down at her. He judged her deactivation an apparent success, though she'd suffered some confusion and shakiness afterward. After giving her a sedative he'd watched her closely until she'd finally fallen into a light sleep, then spent an hour transferring her data into the Cancelled Agents database. Cleaning all associated records, he'd removed her identity as completely as he'd removed his own, making her a new identity that would never attract attention. He'd done his own little by little over time making sure no one could find him, not even the analysts at the CIA.

Bending over, he pulled the blanket higher over her shoulder, smiling as she burrowed deeper into the pillow of the bed he'd been using until tonight. Stifling a yawn, he studied the soft curve of her lips and cheek, admiring the thick wavy column of her hair. She slept on her right side, and he was tempted to climb in behind her and hold her in his arms. But he didn't want to disturb her.

"Just have to be patient for that," he whispered, longing for the day they could lie together and share their love. When she stirred again he froze, watching as she stretched a bit. Then her eyelids fluttered. When she stilled he sat down facing her, keeping his distance but waiting for her if she needed anything. Feeling exhausted and drained, he noted the brightening horizon with a weary smile. After a few minutes he felt as if he were being watched and turned to find her eyes open. She was staring at him, her expression blank. He held her gaze, parting his lips as he remembered a similar encounter with her form t he past. Hoping to prompt her memory, if that was needed, he watched her closely.

"Mornin' Sunshine," he rasped gently, waiting to see if she remembered. She continued to stare at him, her eyes studying every inch of his face. The light in the room intensified, taking on a golden glow. He decided to go back in time, to that day in Medical after they'd inserted her kill chip and he'd been called in to activate it. Only this time he'd make a subtle change to see if she caught it.

Please God, he pleaded, trying not to worry, let her be ok, and let her remember.

"Welcome to the big leagues, kid," he said as he'd done that morning. "Your new agent tracker has just gone DOA."

Waiting, he watched her lips part. Her eyes narrowed on him as she stiffened.

" Awesome," she whispered, and after a moment he saw the tiny smile she offered him. Recognition flooded her expression as he breathed a sigh of relief.

He leaned closer, reaching for her hand. "Some do's and don'ts," he repeated as he had that morning. "DO feel secure while on vacation in exotic locales. You are now officially free and offline from Division and all its intel—read me?"

She squeezed his hand and smiled. "Loud and clear."

c. 2011 by Christine Levitt [last few quotes courtesy of the episode entitled "Free," Nikita Season 1]

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