This took longer than normal to update, huh? Some reasons. One, I'm out of pre-made chapters for this story. Two, I started another fanfic also competing for my attention. You know what could motivate me? Reviews. *broad grin* Optional, of course. Your reviews have been lovely so far. (HAHA I USED THE WORD MOTIVATE AND THIS STORY IS CALLED . . . nevermind.)

This chapter might have been longer, but I wanted to pull something out for you people soon. So here ya go.

No rights to Nikita.

Amanda usually helped the agents pick out outfits for their missions, but Alex wasn't up to looking at her right now. She was one of the last people Alex wanted to see. Only slightly higher on the list was Birkhoff.

But he wasn't going to start doing as he wished now.

"Alex?" she heard in her head.

She sighed deeply.

"Alex, why won't you talk to me?" Birkhoff pleaded.

Fittingly, she didn't answer.

"I talked to Amanda," he said quietly. "About that mission I overheard."

"…and?" Alex pressed with enough hostility in her voice for Birkhoff not to make a big deal about her finally saying something.

"It didn't go well," he said, a little snark seeping into his tone. "She threw the dead girlfriend in my face."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"I'm not asking you for pity, sweetheart," he said.

"It's quiet on your end," Alex suddenly noticed. There was no signature tapping of keys or background discussions. "Where are you?"

"Umm . . ."

"Are you in the silo? Are you escaping?"

"What? No. I'm not an idiot."

"Then where are you?"

"I'm . . ." Birkhoff stammered. "Look, don't hold this against me, but I'm outside your apartment."

Alex stopped in her tracks, unaware she had been pacing. "Umm . . ." she hesitated, "why is that exactly?"

"I thought you weren't talking to me, so I came in person. And now it's kind of creepy as opposed to charmingly compassionate."

"How'd you know my address?" Alex wondered aloud.

"We have it on file. Division assigned this apartment to you."

"Are you . . . are you outside right now?"

" . . . yes."

Alex walked cautiously up to the door and opened it. There was Birkhoff, outside, on something that looked like a cell phone, but way fancier. He pulled it away from his ear and flipped it close.

"Hi, Alex," he waved weakly. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Back at you," Alex breathed.

He awkwardly held up the phone thing. "It's like a computer, but smaller. That's why I can't talk to your chip through it."

"Why are you here, Birkhoff," she asked hostilely.

"Mind your tone, missy," Birkhoff frowned. "Are you going to invite me in?"

"May I know your intentions first?"

"Completely taking advantage of you, and then maybe arson. Now let me in." Birkhoff brushed past her and into the room. Alex decided to let him through and closed the door behind him. "I was kidding about that, you know. I don't plan on taking advantage of you. I left my roofies back at Division."

"Your sense of humor could get you into trouble one day."

"I'm in Division. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Slow, torturous murder."

He shrugged. "Could be worse. At least I don't have AIDS."

Alex chortled shortly. "But seriously. Why are you here?"

"Hello. Welcome to another ill-fated attempt to talk you out of your dirty, little mission."

Alex rolled her eyes and sighed, putting her fingers to her temples. "It's not like a want to."

"Then don't," he said. "Gosh, life is so simple when you think about it."

"No, it's not," she disagreed. "There are a whole lot of aspects to this mission, Birkhoff. Consequences no matter what I choose to do. They link to each other in a bunch of ways, and I end up in a spiderweb of consequences. "

"Oh, gee. Your metaphors have convinced me of the moral rightness of the mission and I'm terribly sorry I've gotten involved."

"Gah!" Alex exclaimed. "Can you take anything seriously?"

He thought back to the conversation with Amanda. "Yup."

"You know, why are you involved anyway?"

"Huh?"

"Why do you care so much about what happens to me?" Alex prodded.

"I like to live under the inconvenient impression that we're friends," he explained. "Therefore, I feel obligated to help you out every once in a while."

"Would it be outrageous to ask you to stay out of my business?"

"Yes."

Alex scoffed and glared at him.

"What can I say?" Birkhoff shrugged. "I'm nosy."

Alex's expression didn't change. "You think you're so funny."

"Why do so many people doubt my hilarity these days? It's insulting."

"Can we be serious for a second, please?" Alex pleaded. "Why do you care so much?"

"And another thing," Birkhoff continued. "People keep questioning my motivations. How dishonorable do you think they are?"

"My concern is that they're misguided," Alex informed him.

"Misguided?" he frowned. "Is there some sort of misunderstanding going on here?"

"Yes. A massive one."

"Well, please, enlighten me," he offered.

Alex pursed her lips, her eyebrows straightening out as well as her expression became defensive.

"Secrets in Division? I disapprove."

"We're not in Division. We're in my apartment."

"Your Division-funded apartment."

"Can you just drop it?" Alex pleaded further.

"Is this a martyrdom thing? Taking this job so someone else won't have to?"

"That wasn't my motivation," she answered honestly, though she thought that was something to think about in the future.

This process of avoidance and vagueness could have gone all day if not for the knock on the door. Birkhoff and Alex both look toward the door at the sound.

"Visitors?" Birkhoff frowned. "You've been making friends out here?"

Alex hadn't much, but she had established one relationship in her allotted time outside Division headquarters.

Her body sagged dejectedly at Nathan's poor timing.

What of my early thoughts was to make Nathan the villain of the story. Obviously, he's not as villainly as Amanda or Mystery Villain, but he might make some poor decisions soon...