Another NEW video for Lesson One is up on Youtube! Give it a look; it's the character introductions! Youtube username is JadedRein, so be sure to check it out! Feedback is super duper appreciated. To those of you who have been reviewing I thank you! It helps keep me motivated. Much love and enjoy- Jade

Birkhoff leaned back in his seat, massaging his temples with his fingers. He should have been in a good mood. For all intents and purposes he was- just deep down inside. Tonight he'd get to take Alicia out for the first time. They'd have to play it up for the cameras, sure, but once he brought her back to his apartment they'd be in the clear. Unless, he had considered, we go back to hers and hold out on my place. It'd give him a chance to take her out again considering how Amanda had practically salivated at the initial offer. A chance to snoop around his apartment was probably high on her to-do list.

First he'd have to finish work, and at Division it seemed like his work was never done. There was something going on in the head of Ops and he had the sinking feeling no matter how quickly he worked it wouldn't matter; another problem was always around the corner. He wasn't surprised when Michael came stalking in looking just as frustrated as Birkhoff felt. "Whatever it is count me out Mikey," he was quick to warn as the man came to a stop near his station.

Michael looked down at him, the corners of his lips twitching in amusement. "In a hurry to get somewhere?" he asked, tone as smug as he looked.

"Don't sound so surprised," Birkhoff scoffed, looking for an energy drink. All he found was an empty can and he scowled as he sat it back down. He didn't remember finishing it.

"New comic book out?"

"They're graphic novels," he corrected him promptly, giving his shoulders a half assed shrug, "and sticks and stones may break my bones words will never hurt me."

Once more his lips twitched, tempted to move into a smirk amidst the dark stubble on Michael's face. "You've been in a good mood lately," he commented, eyes sweeping him in suspicion. It had been a while since Birkhoff had passed up cynical sarcasm and went straight for childish comebacks.

"I'd be in a better mood if everyone didn't come running to me with their problems," Birkhoff grumbled. His eyes searched for a techie to bring him a new drink. The moment one met his eyes he pointed deftly to the empty can before turning his stare to Michael. "Birkhoff do that, Birkhoff solve this…" his eyes landed on the CD in Michael's hand, "what's that?"

"Not for you," he dismissed the question easily. Before the computer genius could inquire further he silenced him with a piercing stare. One look and he had the man frozen in the computer chair and dreading what that expression might mean. Michael had something to talk to Birkhoff about and it was exactly this oblivious attitude that started the whole mess.

Clint stepped up with the cold beverage he'd just fetched, not that either of the men staring at him knew his name. He couldn't decide if that bothered him or not. He'd been at Division for four years now and neither of his superiors had ever paid him any attention. The closest he'd gotten was whenever Alicia would sidle up to his side with something for him to do. Every time she did he prayed whatever had occupied the Head IT's attention enough that she didn't want to disturb him would continue to do so. The feeling of Birkhoff's eyes on the back of his head was not a comfortable one. It was always worth the risk though; working with Alicia. She was on the fast track to an important standing at Division.

He felt like he'd interrupted something and tried to ignore the weight of their eyes as he handed forth the drink. It was easier said than done and Clint found himself meeting Birkhoff's gaze. Behind the glasses he wore there was irritation lacing his navy blue eyes. It was without a doubt directed towards him, and Clint wasted no time in turning to leave only to be caught by Michael's expression. "What's your current assignment?' he questioned without hesitation.

"Nothing sir," Clint responded stiffly, straightening up the slightest bit. If the Head Agent was asking then it could only mean one thing.

"Clean up this footage," Michael confirmed the techie's suspicions, lifting his eyes from Birkhoff to turn them instead to him as he handed over the grunt work.

Clint looked down at the clear case in his hand, the unusual sight of a silver CD catching on the fluorescent lights of Operations. The tech seemed out of place in the high tech lab but he didn't ask questions. Instead he nodded and shrunk back from the pair. It was only appropriate they ignored his retreat to continue their conversation and he had every intent of staying out of their way. Yet, when his eyes flickered over his shoulder to Birkhoff, his feet changed direction all on their own. They carried him forward, coming to a stop only once he'd reached the station directly in front of the Head IT's. All the while he listened in on the men's conversation.

"Give him the easy task," Birkhoff scoffed, "real surprise there."

"Birkhoff," the Head Agent growled, his voice its classily smoky tone.

While Clint didn't risk looking at the pair behind him he could just picture the look on Michael's face. If he'd been given that look then he would have shut right up. But not Birkhoff, no – he kept going. "The rest of these lackwits," he raised his voice on the word, putting emphasis on it, "may not be able to do much, but you don't have to come crying to me for everything you know." Michael couldn't even get a word out edgewise before he continued with his usual complaining. "I'm sure if you threw a team of them together they'd be able to manage something."

"Maybe if you didn't treat them like-"

"Like what; the nimrods they are?" Birkhoff cut him short.

Michael gave a small scoff, shaking his head. "Not everyone can be a genius," his lips twitched, tempted to smirk at his colleague.

"Right you are," he shot back with a shrug. Birkhoff pop the top of the cold drink, taking a big swig of the beverage. With how addicted he was to the acidic energy drinks he idly wondered if switching to cigarettes would actually be healthier. Setting down the drink he groaned, once more rubbing his temples as he looked over at Michael in his dark grey suit. There was no way the teacher's pet would come visit the whipping boy unless he had a reason. "Did you come here just to critique my attitude?" he asked coyly, brows rising almost in a challenge. If there wasn't work to be done there was no reason for him to behave after all.

"Actually," he paused, "yes."

"Yeah well I don't get that weird comrade bond like you do," Birkhoff grimaced, relaxing back into his seat before taking another drink. Michael's lips tightened at his words. He knew exactly who the Head Technician was referring to; Nikita. They'd been a team after all, and Birkhoff knew just how attached the pair had gotten. Her betrayal had hit the broody Head Agent harder than anyone.

He knew his words would strike a chord with the man, but he hadn't counted on what he'd say next. "What about with Alicia?"

Birkhoff choked on his energy drink despite himself. He can't know his mind reminded him, demanding that he play it cool. So he tried his best, setting down the drink and smothering the coughs that had gotten the attention of the nearby techies. With a sharp sweep of his eyes they were all back to work and dutifully ignoring him once again. Turning his eyes on Michael he hastily wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his sweatshirt. "If we bonded," he put every ounce of sarcasm into the word that he could muster, "then no one told me."

It wasn't until after the words left his mouth that he'd realized what he'd just said. Denial had been his initial response. Normally that would have been a good thing to do, a safe move even. Now that he'd said it Birkhoff remembered that he should have been bragging; not on the defense. Michael didn't seem to feel the same, in fact he just smirked. "You do know we record the com feeds," he intoned, "or did you forget?"

Already back on track Birkhoff wasted no time in formulating an acceptably witty reply. "A little flirting never killed anyone. We have Agents for that."

Michael wasn't amused. He'd come to give the man a friendly warning and he knew that it wouldn't go over smoothly. Birkhoff was what you might call the lone wolf of Division. All he had were his computers for company and that was the way he liked it. Or at least that was what he stuck to. There wasn't a doubt in Michael's mind that the man was yearning for some sort of a connection. It had been easy to recognize the playful relationship between him and Nikita. Only Alicia wasn't Nikita; a fact that seemed to need to be reiterated to the Head Tech. The two were really nothing alike. "You know the rules Birkhoff," he reminded the man, unable to keep his voice from taking on an authoritative tone.

"Chillax Mikey," he scoffed, pushing his glasses back up his nose, "it's under control."

"You asked her on a date," Michael pointed out, his voice lowering an octave.

For a moment Birkhoff stared at him, eyes flickering over his face, before turning to look instead at his previously abandoned computer monitor. "Uh no," he chimed, "I didn't. She issued a challenge and I named a reward."

"What happened to look; don't touch?"

"That's my rule," Birkhoff corrected him, eyes drawn back to Michael, "not Division's."

He could see he wasn't getting through to the man and had to resist the urge to groan. Why do I even bother? He idly wondered, though he was unwilling to give up just yet. Though they weren't exactly best friends, Seymour was the only person left at Division he held some margin of trust in. While Michael knew the Head Technician wasn't expendable he still didn't want to see any harm come to him. Not while he had a say in the matter at least. The only people above Michael on the food chain were Amanda and Percy. If this matter landed on either of their desks there would be little he could do about it. "You paraphrased it," Michael's voice rolled from his lips.

Birkhoff groaned, raking a hand through his hair. If he cared about the people overhearing he didn't show it. "Lesson One: Relationships are forbidden," he recited, tilting his head side to side in a mocking fashion along with his words, "that's the law of the land. It doesn't say anything about touching."

"You asked her out on a date," Michael repeated. When the man opened his mouth to interject he shut him up with a piercing look. Borderline friendship aside, he could still deliver a good scare when he wanted to. If he hadn't been in the middle of setting Seymour straight Michael would have been tempted to smirk at how quickly he could silence him. Instead he decided to use the opportunity to drive the point home. "For a genius you lack common sense. What were you thinking, asking over the com? You know Ops are recorded," he chastised him, "and you're not stupid enough to believe you're the only one who reviews them."

For a second he stared up at Michael blankly, his eyes blinking behind his glasses. His thick lips had drawn into a line, brow creased and fingers nervously searching for the can he'd set aside. When he finally found it he broke eye contact long enough to shake his head and slam back a few sizable gulps of the beverage. Replacing the drink to its post on his workspace – a safe way from the keyboard – he rotated the chair slightly to better face Michael. "You're the one calling it a date Romeo," his lips rose into a sardonic smile, "not me. All I did was bet a pretty girl dinner that my program would work, which it did, and now I'm going to follow through."

If they weren't in the middle of the Command Center then Michael would have grabbed him by the collar of that damned dark blue sweatshirt and shaken him until the only sound from his open mouth was the echoing of his brain rattling. He pictured it for a second honestly tempted by the idea. Normally he wasn't a physical man. Bullshit, his mind laughed at the stray thought, not a physical man. Hell- half of his job was teaching recruits hand to hand. Unfortunately this wasn't something that could be solved by a well placed blow to the back of the head and a few words of warning. "You're the one behaving like a star crossed lover," he pointed out, a brow raised in a mix of amusement and admiration. Michael had to hand it to the man; proposing dinner to Alicia in the middle of an Op had taken balls. He'd never taken Birkhoff as the type of man to have any.

"It's called casual sex," the Head IT only continued to surprise the man with his unexpected rebuttal. The moment his words processed Michael's face went blank. Of all people, he marveled at the insane events that had left him being confronted with Seymour Birkhoff's suddenly apparent sexual life. "You know," Birkhoff made use of the stunned silence, "shagging, bumping uglies, knocking boots, making the beast with two backs. . . ." his voice trailed off.

"Are you crazy?" was the only question he could muster to ask. He was afraid he might actually laugh at the man's unorthodox list of slang terms for sex. Michael prided himself in limiting his response to no more than a smirk in regards to the few stray pieces of Birkhoff's humor that actually were funny. Of all times for him to be entertaining now was not it.

Clint was having a difficult time paying attention to the video feeds, his mind too distracted with eavesdropping. Beneath his right hand the mouse clicked, idly moving around as he attempted to at least get something done before Michael was breathing down his neck. It wasn't the fact that the Head IT had plans with Alicia for supper that he was interested in. No, that was old news. An unexpected perk of being Amanda's new personal stalker of the pair's interactions was insider knowledge. What he was hoping to catch an earful of had nothing to do with informing to his higher ups. All he wanted was to know what the hell was going on between the two. More specifically he wanted to know what Birkhoff had to gain. The man was quirky but he wasn't an idiot; he had to know something was up.

"Google pr0n," Birkhoff's eyes flittered over to the computer screen as he got to his feet, "I don't have the time to teach you the birds and the bees."

Michael stood his ground, his arms coming to rest across his chest as he squared off with the computer geek. Of all the times he stood up to him he'd never imagined it would be about sex. Why am I still here? he wondered, an answering thought popping up in the form of one word: Amanda. "Take five seconds out of your busy schedule to think," he shot back sarcastically, "what exactly do you know about Alicia?"

Birkhoff would have been touched by Michael's insistence to protect him from the big bad wolf if it wasn't for the fact said wolf was actually his top secret girlfriend, and that he'd never be able to fill his one and only friend in on the juicy details. I don't know Amanda's plan, he recited in his head, I'm not in a relationship. Instead he had to distract him from the scent, playing aloof once more. "So the girl has Roan as her own personal knife trainer," he shrugged, knowing that had nothing to do with the point being made, "I'll make sure there are only forks and spoons at the table. Crisis averted."

When he stepped around Michael and started from Operations he wasn't all that shocked to hear the sound of footsteps behind him. "Did it ever occur to you that she is using you?" he asked, falling into step beside Birkhoff.

"I'm due for a good using," he shot back on instinct. Everyone thinks I'm an idiot he stewed, too frustrated to be touched at his friend's concern. Birkhoff knew that it was his fault that the man was in the dark about the truth of it all, but there was nothing he could do about it. Telling Michael wasn't his decision to make; it was Alicia's. He knew that he could trust the man, as was evident by the fact he'd come to talk sense it to him, but he wouldn't decide for her. After years of being used and abused something he valued was the right to choose. In Division that basic human right was stripped away but, seeing as he was already breaking the number one rule, he saw no reason to follow the others in respect to Alicia.

Michael's hand shot out, landing on the door Birkhoff had moved to open. "You're already on Amanda's bad side," he reminded him, "messing with her Pet will only make things worse."

"Worse?" he snickered, shaking his head. "Mikey, I didn't do anything to get dragon lady's panties in a bunch in the first place. She's been breathing fire since I got here; it's not going to stop," Birkhoff tugged on the door handle, managing to get it to open an inch before it was pushed shut once more. The ringing of Michael's phone was like a godsend and, the moment he moved to answer it, Birkhoff wasted no time in opening the door. He slid into the room as quickly as he could, but not before he got a good view of the dark look being sent his way.

With a few steps he was to the brown leather couch that matched with absolutely nothing else in the large area that was his bat cave of sorts. Percy had given him a tech room all for himself shortly after he'd been named Head Technician but that didn't mean he could go out and decorate it. No, despite the fact that he'd spent- "Holy toledo," he breathed out loud, "I've almost spent half of my life in this place."

He slunk into the couch, taking off his glasses and setting them aside as he went. There was a weird feeling brewing in his gut and it had the twinge of something he had thought long lost to him; guilt. It was going on sixteen years that he'd been in Division. He could remember Michael being appointed Head Agent like it was yesterday. The lean, broody man's first words to him were in the form of snarky commands and yet. . . and yet he'd shown patience as he watched Birkhoff work. Like with Alicia the friendship hadn't been instant; it took one Operation together.

No one would admit it, but Division was a shady place to say the least. Everything around it was wrapped in secrecy, lies and deception. The program itself had already taken a turn for the worse. There had once been a time where he understood the cause, where the job had been exciting and rewarding. Birkhoff was no longer just a hacker sticking it to the man; he was a god. Safely stationed behind his computer he was the eye in the sky who helped take out the baddest of the bad. Once upon a time he saw a point in it but now? Now his girlfriend, who was supposed to be a set up, was returning from selling guns to a dangerous man all for the sake of finding out who was bankrolling him.

Birkhoff groaned, sinking further into the couch. And I'm lying to Mikey he noted, and when he did the source of the guilt was apparent. They'd never really been open with one another, but at least he'd been honest. Knowing that Michael was concerned about Birkhoff worried him for more reason than one. If he kept an eye on the situation it would only be a matter of time before he found out about either Amanda's plan or the truth behind his relationship with Alicia.

If Alicia hadn't been in the middle of a heated exchange with Roan she would have been having the same worries over Samson. It was impossible to worry about anything other than the practice blade dancing past her face. All that her mind had room for was the movement of her body in response to the man across from her. Turn. Dip. Weave. The simple commands Roan would give echoed in her mind for her body to follow. They'd been hammered in after hours of practice and yet there was always room for improvement. The Cleaner had taught her the most important trick to knife fighting: control the body.

While the trick was nondescript in itself she had understood the meaning behind it. From the few times she'd seen Roan in action she had noticed various things. They all boiled down to body control. Block the arm, kick the leg, make them twist to reach you. . . it all came back to controlling your opponent's movements. It was for that reason Roan had agreed to coach her in his particular art form. Control was what they both had in common. They both manipulated emotions to their own means; he deleted them while she conjured them. It was different sides of the same coin really.

He fell back, blue practice knife lowered to his side. There wasn't a need for words, and she joined him at the pig carcass suspended a foot from the floor. The Cleaner stepped up, hands ghosting just a breath away from touching as he guided her back into the position of the move he aimed to correct. Alicia was comfortable with him, moving just the right amount as she sensed what it was he was after. Everything was methodical with him. It wasn't necessary for him to explain what he was correcting; by now she was able to guess. When she was in place he took a smooth step back, eyes flashing over her to make sure the posturing was correct.

"The final moment of the strike is the most important," Roan reminded her in his cool yet informative tone.

She turned her eyes to the pink hues of the carcass before her, thinking over what follow through she'd used when she'd made this move. It took a second to click, and when it did she readied her muscles to strike. Eyes narrowed in she evaluated her mistake. Lower and smoother she deduced before following through to do just that. Unlike during sparring, this time Alicia's slice was rewarded with the resistance of skin, fat and muscle. Her own muscles tensed, bringing the blade to a stop deep within the tissue. Green eyes danced over her handiwork before flickering up to meet the grey eyes that were regarding her.

Roan stepped up smoothly, already positioning himself behind her by the time she turned her eyes back to the carcass. With a tug the blade was free and his hand was on hers. "Light," he instructed, fingers guiding hers, "tight and stiff."

A few words from the man accompanied by his light touches and Alicia had the motion down, nodding once in understanding. The quiet between them during practice felt unusually refreshing. Neither one of them had to pretend to be anything other than what they were: Alicia dedicated to the thrill of learning a new skill and Roan enjoying instructing her. He loves this, her mind chanced to wander as he stepped back to watch her make the strike exactly as he'd corrected. The Cleaner was a man who took a twisted pleasure in his work; Alicia could sense it about him. She'd known the moment she'd first met the man. She also knew he was loyal to Percy. Neither fact scared her in the least however.

As they continued in their practice Alicia felt a level of comfort she associated with very few people. Two in fact: Seymour Birkhoff and. . . Samson? As she placed a killing stab to what would have been a man's throat she mulled over this revelation. It was true after all; before Birkhoff he'd been her only friend. They'd trained together, eaten together, worked out together and even spent their relaxation periods together. For the entire duration of her recruit period Samson had been at her side. As a pair they had even broken a number of rules.

It had been Samson who had informed her the night before that she was about to be sent out on her graduating mission. He'd snuck into her room after lights out like he often did, sitting backwards on the metal chair the basic recruit rooms provided, his chin resting on his crossed arms as he recounted what he'd found out. There'd been no jealousy there, and how she'd first missed that baffled her. His congratulations had been genuine as had her smiles.

An idea struck her, a dangerous sparkle shining in her eyes as she cut the pink skin before her into ribbons. I can tell him to ask Amanda she decided with confidence. This would accomplish oh so many things, and with all the stress her new life entailed it would provide her some much needed relief. Samson had pushed her buttons in that bed when he was trying to get the information from her but to his credit he had backed down before taking things too far. She'd return the favor and satisfy his curiosity into her going ons with Birkhoff. He would put ask Amanda in a way that wouldn't get Alicia into trouble; of this she was sure. While he may be an overly confident, cocky son of a bitch he was still uncharacteristically decent when it came to her.

Mind set on a course of action she returned to thinking only of practice, committing herself to Roan's instructions. Time passed quickly, so quickly that when the elevator chimed they both looked over as if broken from a spell. It was easy to fall into a steady rhythm with the cold composed Cleaner as company. When the doors opened to reveal Michael that peace was broken and they both straightened up, relaxing their weapons to hang near their side. His eyes took in the entire scene before striding forward with a broody look that bordered on angry. Alicia flashed a glance to Roan as he closed in on them.

As Michael met Roan's cool stare he was still mulling over the situation as a whole. It was going on midnight and Alicia was down on Sub Level Twelve with Roan of all people. When he'd told Percy she would like to train in knives as a specialization he had never once considered he would be the instructor. This just gets better and better he thought sourly, coming to a stop just before the two. The entire scene was awkward, and he tried to ignore the dislike in the Cleaner's cool eyes as he focused on Alicia instead. "I need to have a word with you," he said, tone as serious as ever. This time it wasn't an act.

Her eyes flickered to Roan once more before meeting him with a brief nod. "Of course," she responded easily, handing over the knife she held to Roan before striding to meet him. "Is there a problem Michael?" Alicia asked, her back now to the Cleaner who made himself busy a few feet away with the array of knives he had displayed on a metal table.

"There is," he turned his attention back to her, focusing on the task at hand, "and it has to do with you and Birkhoff."

She flashed one of her easy smiles, tilting her head the slightest bit as she looked up at him without fear. "Is this about the bet we made?" Alicia asked, getting straight to the point. He was somewhat surprised that she hadn't even tried to beat around the bush.

"If you're referring to the date you're over three hours late for," Michael intoned, "then yes; it is." He couldn't believe the nerve of her. Not for one second had he ever believed the young woman to be capable of something so cruel. She'd always come off as sweet and obedient. Alicia was known as Amanda's Pet, yes, but she was also known for her lighthearted attitude. He'd always believed it real, having met Alicia before Amanda had sunk her claws into her.

"I lost track of time," she muttered an excuse, "there's no clocks down here."

"This isn't about being late," he cut her off before she could mistake his reason for talking to her, "this is about what you're doing." Alicia's green eyes flickered up to meet his in question, and Michael returned it with a pointed glare. "I saw the video," he warned her, "and I think you know which one it is I'm talking about." The question in her eyes remained and he grimaced, giving her a more serious look. "You paid Birkhoff a visit in the computer lab," Michael jogged her memory.

It worked, and of all things a sly smile slid onto her face. "So we're busted then?" she asked, giving a little shake of her head. "I knew it would work its way around eventually, I just didn't think it would be this fast," Alicia admitted without a shred of guilt.

Michael could hardly believe it. He knew that no one in Division was quite what they seemed but her? She always seemed so nice, he mused, thinking back to how she'd named her car. "Whatever it is you're doing you need to stop," he warned, "for both your sakes."

Even this didn't seem to faze her. That smile remained on her lips, only softening the slightest bit. "Amanda already approached us about this. As long as no one gets serious, which I assure you neither of us will, then there's no harm in it. We're both consenting adults," she shrugged, letting down her auburn waves from her pony tail.

Roan could hear everything from where he stood, and not a word of it surprised him. Unlike Michael he had been informed about Alicia's side mission with Amanda. Michael may be Percy's number two but Roan was his true right hand. When it came to getting things done he was the man Percival Rose turned to. It was apparent that Michael was close to the man, or he wouldn't have sought out Alicia to warn her away. Or he cares for her too, he deduced, watching a little more closely.

"These types of things only ever end badly," Michael kept his voice lowered. There was definitely concern mixed in with his warnings, and Roan knew it had to do with the fact he was her handler. For once he vaguely understood why he would be watchful over this particular Agent. Alicia held remarkable potential. Roan only wished she wasn't in Amanda's hands.

"I'll keep that in mind," she gave in with a sigh, looking away. When she met his gaze Roan knew that she'd been aware of him listening. The emerald eyes held no worry at all, and it was as if the conversation hadn't just occurred. "Can you believe it's already midnight?" Alicia asked with a mystified expression, removing herself from the conversation smoothly.

"It's twelve forty-two," Roan responded with a glance down to his watch. He hadn't known that Alicia was supposed to be off on a tryst with Seymour Birkhoff when he'd allowed their practice to run over the scheduled time. Three hours and forty-two minutes over, he continued to calculate. That meant the over three hours late Michael was referring two had been spent training with him instead. He vaguely wondered if he had known she had a meeting scheduled with the man would he have let the practice carry over? Yes, he reasoned, he would have. Alicia made her own decisions and it didn't concern him.

She hated playing the naughty role at times like this, but it was too late for anything else. Now that Michael had seen the video he'd have certain expectations of her. It was clear he wasn't clued in on her side mission for Amanda. Alicia wasn't too surprised; she sensed Amanda and Michael got along just as poorly as she did with Birkhoff. "That's not so bad," she smiled as she returned her gaze to Michael, "I can fix this."

He flashed her a suspicious look. "How?"

"Easy: Delivery. Plenty of places deliver late," Alicia chose this moment to escape, striding casually away, picking up her jacket as she went, "I'll just have to invite him over." She slipped the black jacket on, zipping it up partway as she met Michael's gaze straight on. "After all," she continued with a daring smile, "I did give my word when I accepted the wager for dinner. Don't worry; I'll make sure he pays."

Before he could get in a word edgewise she strode straight into the elevator and deftly pushed the button. The doors closed, shutting out an incredulous and close to fuming Michael who stood rooted in spot. Alicia breathed in relief, pulling her phone from her pocket. She dialed Birkhoff's Division issued number and held her breath as she waited for him to answer. I can't believe I missed our date she stewed, leaning her head up against the mirrored elevator wall. They'd both been looking forward to it and now it was ruined. Ordering in hardly made up for what she'd just taken out of the picture.

"About time you called," Birkhoff's voice answered just as she was worried about voicemail picking up instead.

She let out the breath she'd been holding, relaxing the slightest bit at his voice alone. "Yeah I know; I'm late. It wasn't intentional," Alicia responded as casually as she could, wishing she didn't have to play a role right now, "but I got held up in Sub Level Twelve."

There was a pause as he took in this information. Only then did she realize he might consider torture an option. She'd forgotten the stigma of it being the torture level. "What?" he asked slowly, almost hesitantly.

"Just knife play practice," she calmed his nerves, "and no, nothing went wrong. I did work up an appetite though. Come to my place; we can order in."

"Where are you?"

"The elevator," she answered simply before expanding, "on my way up from practice. I just finished."

"I'll meet you there," Birkhoff was quick to respond, "I was just on my way home. I was stuck helping Michael until a half hour ago."

This news surprised her, but she agreed nonetheless, hanging up the phone. Was he trying to keep Birkhoff's mind off of me being late? She couldn't help but wonder of Michael. It seemed to be true. Oddly enough she was thankful for his interference; now she wouldn't feel quite as terrible about being so late. Of course it really was all her fault, but that didn't matter. Alicia was confident she could make up for it.

When they were safe and sound back at her place she didn't hesitate to latch on to the front of his sweatshirt. Giving a pull she lowered his lips to hers and kissed him, wanting to close the distance she'd had from him the past twelve days. Finally she was back in his arms, out of camera view and façade free. The feeling of his arms pulling her against him, how she was just small enough to fit perfectly into his hold, made her feel completely at home.

Birkhoff pulled back, breaking to smile down at her. "I missed that," he breathed before kissing her once more only to pull away again. "I also missed you at nine," he added, reading her wide emerald eyes as she gazed up at him.

"I was practicing with Roan," she admitted, "and lost track of time. It didn't occur to me until Michael came down and-"

"Mikey talked to you?" he interrupted, already accepting her excuse. There'd be more opportunities to take her out. Having been in Division for as long as he had it was nothing new for plans to be delayed.

"Yeah," Alicia nodded and eased out of his hold. "He was looking out for you," she added, examining him in turn, "and warned me it was dangerous."

Birkhoff couldn't help but groan, running his fingers through his hair. "He gave me the same speech. The last thing we need right now his him digging around. We already have boy wonder to worry about," he grumbled, wishing things weren't so damn complicated.

"About Samson," she spoke up, rubbing the back of her neck as she stretched out her shoulders, "I had an idea. I'm going to tell him to bring his concerns to Amanda. She'll either tell him about my mission or she won't, but I'm figuring she will. He'll back off. If I know Samson at all he'll be more than happy to go along with it and stop digging if he thinks it'll hurt you in some way."

While he'd been listening, Birkhoff had realized for the first time she was still in training clothes. While the form fitting black yoga pants and grey cross back cami were flattering he didn't doubt she wanted to change. His eyes danced over her a moment before returning to hers. "I'll order and you get changed," he instructed, opting not to talk about anything Division related for the rest of the night. Instead he shot her a mischievous look and there was no more that needed to be said; she understood his mood entirely.

As she took a quick shower and changed into a pair of silk pajama pants and a matching v neck cami Birkhoff was ordering food and trying to decide what movie they would watch. He was determined that no matter what she came out wearing he would control himself. Tonight they'd be a real couple. They would eat in and enjoy a movie together. His laptop was safely tucked away in its case and that was where it would stay. It would be just the two of them enjoying a casual night in and he had the feeling that was exactly what Alicia needed most right now.

He needed it too, and when she did come out to join him on the couch he wasted no time in pulling her into his side. It was easy to get comfortable and they settled in, sharing in each other's warmth as he turned on the television with a click of the button. "I have a couple choices for you here," Birkhoff offered, happy that she didn't mind dropping the subject. His arm wrapped around her, chin resting on her head as she leaned it against him to peer up at the list he was slowly scrolling through.

"Stop," she murmured and he obeyed, lingering over a title, "how about that one?"

"Day Watch; my girl has good tastes," he grinned, lips moving against hair. He could almost imagine tasting the light citrus fragrance of her shampoo it seemed so close. "Better yet your television just happens to be 3D capable," his grin took the form of a smirk, "so you're in for a treat sweetheart."

She smiled into the green shirt he wore, tracing her fingers over the pattern of the pacman trail that ran across it in black lines. It seemed like forever since she'd been able to relax in his hold and the best part was there'd been no need to hide it. Even their trackers that displayed they were together in her apartment posed no danger to them. For once they could relax and she had a feeling Amanda would make sure Birkhoff wasn't bothered for as long as he was with her. At least not until it was necessary. "Thank you," she breathed into his chest, pausing the progress of her fingers to flatten her hand out on his chest. She pushed off a little to look up at him, noting the absence of glasses as she stared into his navy eyes. "For understanding my job, for not getting upset that I ruined tonight," Alicia paused, taking giving a little smile, "for everything really."

At her words Birkhoff couldn't help but blush and avert his eyes for a moment. She granted him mercy and kept her smile small, the twinkle in her eyes the only thing that would give away how adorable he was. It was a Seymour that only she saw, and she loved every second of it. It was hard to explain what exactly it was about him that did her in so completely, but every little moment certainly did add up. He cleared his throat before deciding which part to reply on. "Tonight's not ruined," he went the safe route, "it's just rearranged. I don't know about you dollface, but I'm due for a good night in."

The smile he gave her tempted a kiss out of her, and after placing it on his lips a buzz sounded at the front of the apartment. They pulled apart, both looking in the direction of the illuminated box near the elevator doors. It cast an eerie glow across the kitchen and towards the far window. They were both thankful to be out of its watchful gaze. Not needing to say a word Alicia shifted and Birkhoff got to his feet, digging his wallet from the jeans he wore. She watched him walk up to the monitor, settling back onto the couch with a smile on her face as he started to talk to the man. Amanda was right; this was her home now. Things felt so right with Birkhoff there, and she hoped her little scheme for Amanda would allow him to be over this freely more often.

They'd already worked out what she'd tell Amanda she'd gained from the night together. Birkhoff hasn't retired his ShadowWalker alias, he's leaving his tag for anyone who can dig deep enough to find. That was what she'd give her. Just a big enough tidbit to show she was breaking through to him. Alicia and Birkhoff had planned it out step by step. What they didn't cover she filled in herself, details were something she specialized in when it came to building covers. That's all it was; yet another mask she had to wear. If she hadn't been playing make believe for so long it would have been easy to lose track.

But now, as she and Birkhoff ate together and cuddled up to watch the movie she didn't have to pretend. She curled into his side, enjoying the feeling of his arm holding her close. For once she felt completely and utterly safe. It made all of the risks she was taking oh so worth it. Alicia had gone so far as to befriend Micah, having him guarding her door while she napped. In reality she had Birkhoff freeze the cameras on her laying form so they could sneak in a conversation on ShadowStalker. Flying under the radar had become second nature for her at that point.

"I hope they don't send me away again," she sighed as the end credits rolled, saying what she could feel he'd been thinking as well.

"There's no more trips on your card anytime soon," Birkhoff was quick to try and quell her concern. "I checked our roster and it looks like we have clean battles lined up," he couldn't help but share, "so it should be smooth sailing for the next few months."

"Unless something pops up," Alicia felt the need to point out the truth.

He moved, turning her in his arms to look down at her. "That won't happen," he sounded determined, but only looked half convinced.

"You'll jinx us," she warned, lightening the mood with a smile.

Birkhoff took her in, tightening the arm he had around her slender waist to pull her closer. He couldn't tell her that he'd missed her all week and had nearly gone crazy sitting on his hands back in Division. The place felt so empty without her, and it was almost scary how attached he'd gotten to her. It seemed like just yesterday she was in a yellow dress, prominent on his screen as he made small talk to calm her nerves. Even then she'd had him; he just hadn't known it yet. What he did know, however, was that Alicia was back home in once piece and in his arms. "How about we play a game," he suggested, pressing his nose to hers, "first person to talk about anything related to the-place-that-shall-not be-named loses."

He watched as understanding set in and she gave a little nod, drawing her head back. For a moment Alicia was silent and a terrible thought occurred to Birkhoff. What if there isn't anything else to talk about? She was quick to dash that, a smile coming onto her face as she rested her head back up against his chest. "I've read about Shadow Walker in your file, but we've never actually talked about it. Is that off limits?" she asked casually, as though it'd been on her mind for a while.

Glad that she couldn't see her face, Birkhoff's initial reaction had been a smug expression. He smothered it, trying to straighten his face to a more casual one before clearing his throat. "Uh, no it's not," he threw in a shrug for good measure. No one ever asked him about his former glory days, and when he talked about it on his own no one cared. They'd already gone over what she'd be telling Amanda, and so he knew this had nothing to do with the dreaded D word.

"When did you become him?" Alicia asked, not exactly sure how to word the questions. Was she supposed to refer to Shadow Walker as him, or was that a separate part of his life all together? She knew that he still held on to the glory he associated with the name, but it didn't make finding out any easier.

Luckily it seemed Birkhoff cared more about the topic then how it was worded. She could already feel his arm shifting its hold on her as he got ready to talk. "It may surprise you to learn I was never a pillar of the community," he started off with a little laugh, "but I wasn'twas never built to be a masked crusader either. Twelve with a love for justice is normal for most kids, but put a computer in front of little me and it's a whole different story."

"You started at twelve? That's crazy," she breathed in awe, more startled to learn this news didn't actually surprise her like it may once have. Alicia knew just how skilled he was, but now she was more curious than ever. "How did you know what you were doing? I was still on type to learn at that age," she added, smiling against his chest. School had always been one of the few things she looked forward to when it came to her old life.

"Some things just click," he shrugged, playing down how amazing it actually was, "and for me that was at the ripe age of twelve."

"So no one taught you?"

Birkhoff was glad she hadn't pulled away to look up at him. He wasn't sure what type of an expression to make; he was torn. On one hand he wanted to use the opportunity to brag, but on the other he wanted to see where her line of questioning was going to lead. The only danger was things getting too personal, and he wasn't sure if he was ready for that just yet. There were things he'd hidden from everyone, even Amanda had never gotten him to talk about them, and they were all that was left of real Seymour Birkhoff. Division already owned his life,everything else but he wouldn't let them get their hands on his past too.

She'd sensed his sudden apprehension to the topic and while she couldn't understand it, she accepted it. "I'm jealous; I wish I was a computer whisperer. It would make everything so much easier," Alicia stated instead. At her words she could feel him relax the slightest bit, and it was difficult not to cuddle into his side. Sometimes Seymour was just so cute. The way he responded to everything so openly was refreshing in a world of calculated killers. "Were you ever tempted to evil?" she teased, unable to help herself. Behind the lighthearted question was an answer she was interested in receiving.

"I'm no boyscout sweetheart," he laughed, his chest rumbling at the idea of it, "I had my moments. There are some men out there with a few less zeros in their bank accounts than they'll ever be happy with."

"But only corporation men," she pointed out, having read through his file, "that's hardly innocent bystanders."

Birkhoff looked down into her upturned eyes, his brows rising as he met her challenging smile. "Oh no, they all had it coming. Depending on what side of the law you're on I'm either a menace or a prodigy. Either way I was leaving my mark and bothering people who deserved it."

Alicia read his face for a second, trying to understand him better. Even with his important standing in Division, a top secret Black Ops group that was run by the government, he still missed being a hacker. She was ecstatic to be doing something that mattered, regardless of the fact she didn't even exist to take the credit for it. But then again she realized with a small smile we've lead two very different lives. "Do you think you can tell me sometime, about some of the attacks you made?" she chanced to ask, a little surprised at herself. It seemed like just yesterday she was discouraging Samson from digging into her past and now she was digging into Birkhoff's.

It took her a second to realize the out of place comparison in her mind. Once more Samson had invaded her thoughts. She pushed it away for later, focusing instead on the navy eyes that were glittering a short distance from her own. "I could," he nodded, tilting his head the slightest bit, "or you I could just have you help during my next one."

His eyes said it all, and she shared in his devious smile. "So youYou really do still do it," Alicia had suspected as much, but he'd just confirmed it.

"Rarely," he admitted, "and nothing like I used to. Shadow Walker is supposed to be gone."

In the moment of silence that followed and he looked away, running his hand nervously through hair, she realized that he missed it. What do I do? It took her a few moments of wonder and staring at him to decide. It wasn't that she didn't know how to distract him; she knew every trick in the book. While she owed the perfection of her art to Division and Amanda's Situations; she had been doing it for years. Those six years were spent winning person after person over. She'd moved every week or so of those six years, changing to fit in each and every time. The problem was one she hadn't been faced with before. For the first time Alicia didn't know what she should do. Her time with Birkhoff was supposed to be mask free.

"Shadow Walker is right here," her words found themselves, and she snuggled into him, resting her head back on his chest. The warmth radiated into her, and she closed her eyes regardless of the fact she could no longer see his. She had the sinking worry that if she looked into his eyes she'd only be tempted to read the situation again. "Who else," Alicia continued, "would have the kahunas to have a relationship right under everyone's noses?"

"You," he pointed out after pausing to consider her words.

"Only because I'm confident in my computer genius boyfriend who is covering our tracks," she shot back with a smile, speaking her mind. The words felt immature, and if anyone overheard they'd judge it absolute crazy talk; but it was true. Birkhoff took this opportunity to kiss her, his hands going up to her face. With thumbs on her temples and fingers burrowed in her loose hair he held her face tilted up as he kissed her. When he pulled away to rest his forehead against hers, grinning down at her, she knew when to drop a subject. "Sometimes I wish I was a mind reader, I think I'd have cool control over it," Alicia changed subjects to the movie. Safe territory she judged.

"You'd be a bamf with it," Birkhoff agreed, liking the mental image he was getting of Alicia fighting in almost slow mo as she read her opponents actions ahead of time. She was already graceful, but throw in the special effects of the movie and his mind was having a field day with it.

"Shadow Walker and Agent Alicia would make a pretty good team," she openly schemed with him. It was moments like these that he loved most. Even being the stone cold fox, and killer, that she was; Alicia remained light at heart.

Liking that she chose his alias as his name he nodded in agreement. "You'd be Agent Ophain," he corrected her, wanting to stay accurate to the movie using last names. She looked momentarily surprised he'd remembered something as insignificant as the last name that marked her tombstone, and Birkhoff just grinned playfully. "That's actually better. Makes you sound more dangerous."

She gave a little laugh, shaking her head in amusement as he lowered his hands back to her sides. "A mind reader and a tech expert, we'd be a perfect two man team," Alicia humored the idea.

"You'd need backup," he hated to admit, "just in case. It takes three to get the best results."

She thought about it for a second before shrugging. "So; we'll get Michael. You've worked with him before and he seems a push away from vigilante," Alicia surprised him by explaining it as though it were just plain logic.

Birkhoff blinked, a little worried about how true that might be. Nikita was gone, but he knew it wasn't forever. If I know Nikki and he knew that he did she'll pop up with a vengeance. He worried about the state of things when that happened. Will Alicia be removed from herthe side mission for dragon lady? She'll have to; I can't be questioned anymore. Birkhoff worried away, too lost in his thoughts to realize she was examining his face. His eyes were closed, head tilted back as he exhaled a breath and continued on with his inner thoughts. Will we have to go back to relying on remaining completely under the radar in order to see each other? He'd never wished that Nikki would remain far far away more than he did at that moment. It was for her own sake, yes, but now it was for his as well.

The only thing that brought him back to planet earth was the sensation of her sliding out of his lax hold. He peeked open his eyes, one after another, watching as she got to her feet and stretched, tousling her hair with one hand. "Well Shadow Walker, I don't know about you," Alicia purred, "but Agent Ophain is about to retire for the night." She shot him a smile, and Birkhoff leaned forward to watch her disappear into the bedroom. His eyes lingered on the doorframe, absentmindedly sweeping up the remote to turn off the television as he smirked. He didn't need to be a mind reader to know what that look had meant.