Set pre-series in Nikita's Division days. Nikita, Michael, and Birkhoff get up to mischief before and after the op that introduced the killchip.
Nikita intended to hide in the shooting range. Thanks to Birkhoff's new equipment, recruits and agents used virtual reality for practice. It allowed them to actually train with moving targets and obstacles, and it didn't waste any bullets. To prepare for an op or a test, the videogame-like practice was better. However, if someone wanted solitude, they could hide in the outdated range. Sometimes, it felt as though that was the only place in Division a person could be left alone; apartments didn't even feel safe at times. In order to collect thoughts and breathe, the target range was a reprieve. So much so that Nikita wasn't the only person who believed that.
As she crept into the room, her gun on her incase she decided she also wanted to shoot to blow off steam, she spotted Michael already utilizing the abandoned place. He had a pistol in his hand and was facing a target, but he wasn't actively shooting. He seemed lost in thought. Nikita considered bursting his isolated bubble. However, she soon thought better of it. The two could just be alone together.
She chose a shooting booth far from Michael so they could continue collecting their thoughts separately. He didn't appear to notice her anyway. He just kept weighing his gun in his hand, eyes glazed over. His thoughts must've had a serious and heavy hold on him. Nikita really should leave him alone. After all, she had her own shit to deal with. That had to be a priority.
For just a moment, Nikita didn't want to think about missions or Division or death. She didn't want to think about the operation Percy just handed her, citing its importance to national security. Actually, her mission was important for the entire world. She could set back North Korea's nuclear weapons program by decades just by sneaking into one emergency surgery. A lot was riding on her success. It had to be perfect, or else.
Nikita didn't want to be perfect, however. Yes, she wanted to disrupt a nuclear weapons program; no one should have nuclear weapons- the U.S included. And she believed evil men should be punished. But she didn't want the stress that perfection placed upon her. She didn't want to face the consequences once she failed. Nikita only wanted to breathe and feel like she was free, even if that wasn't true.
She fired off a couple rounds from her pistol at the paper target across the room. She was relatively alone, and firing a gun at that point came as natural to her as breathing. Nikita could ignore her new operation for a second. She could simply be.
Unfortunately, that reprieve didn't last long. At the startling sound of her sudden shots, Michael was ripped out of his thoughts. He moved to locate the source of the sound, wondering who could've snuck in without him noticing. Of course it was Nikita. The sight of her instantly relaxed him. He holstered his weapon and leaned against the partition of her booth. She hardly registered him, her sights still set on her paper target, "Hey."
"Hey," Michael echoed. He watched her shoot another round, each bullet finding its mark. Nikita clearly didn't need to practice her aim. Her new mission didn't require her to have a gun anyway. There must've been another reason she was in the shooting range, just like he was. He wasn't willing to talk about his thoughts, though, "What are you doing here?"
Sighing, Nikita put away her gun and stared at Michael. A part of her wanted to tell him everything that was on her mind. Yet the more dominant part overruled the decision. She shouldn't let her emotions get the better of her right before a mission. That moment was the time to slip on her mask. The best way she knew how to do that was to be sarcastic and playful. So, she grabbed Michael's strong hands and placed them on her face. Before he could question her about it, she mumbled, "Just snap my neck and put me out of my misery."
Michael didn't hesitate. He slipped his hands off Nikita's soft cheeks and mimed snapping her neck; he even made a cracking sound with his tongue for the full effect. She instantly collapsed in his arms, eyes closed and mouth slack. Unceremoniously, he dropped her to the ground. Nikita fought a giggle. Michael did as well while he crouched down to her level and attempted to solve what the extreme reaction was about, "Is it the upcoming mission?"
"Shh. I'm dead. You can't talk to me," Eyes screwed shut, Nikita turned her head away from Michael and let her tongue flop out of her mouth. She might or might not have also let out a dramatic death rattle to emphasize her point. She didn't have to see Michael to know he rolled his eyes. His barely contained light scoff said everything.
"If you don't want to do it, just say something. I'm sure we can find another agent willing to infiltrate a Korean hospital this late in the planning stage," Snidely, Michael replied. He understood not wanting to do a mission, yet Nikita didn't get to pick and choose which orders to follow. She was stuck with the assignments she was given, just like the rest of them.
"How do you know about it?" Cracking one eye open, Nikita wondered. As far as she knew, she was the only one going on the operation. Percy had given her the orders, handing her the file in the secrecy of his office. The last time he had done that, they were the only two people who knew what she had done for Division (thank God). She figured that mission would operate the same. It was as dangerous. One little mistake would kill her in an instant.
"Who do you think is running the op?" Michael stood, flashing her a crooked grin. He wasn't exactly excited about the kill mission. But that was an important operation for the country- the world. Division was doing what it was intended for: solve the problems no one else could. He could get behind that.
"Great. Then I really am going to die," Nikita smirked as she melted further into the floor. Michael wouldn't allow her to get away with that. He poked her harshly in the side with his foot. Squirming, she shrieked, "You just desecrated a dead body. The disrespect."
"Come on. We need to go over some stuff with Birkhoff," Hefting Nikita to her feet, Michael sighed. He would've loved to spend the rest of the day goofing around with her. That would've been so much better than setting out to kill someone. However, they didn't have the luxury to be silly and lazy, not when there was a job to do.
"He's on this mission too? What'd I do to make Division want to kill me so badly?" Nikita dragged her feet as she walked down the hall. At least they were headed to Birkhoff's sectioned off nerd cave and not Ops. She could somewhat breathe in there. She didn't have to put up much of an act when she was around Birkhoff and Michael. Her mask didn't have to be too restricting. She could let loose. Slumping against Michael, Nikita dragged her feet even more. He had to push her just to get her down the hall. He didn't complain, though.
"You're annoying," His voice was low and husked in her ear. There was a light teasing to it that made it feel like he was smiling against her temple. Nikita's insides began to burn. She had no idea how else to describe the sensation in her stomach. She didn't have a name for it, and she didn't like it. Before Michael could notice, she had to battle the feeling away. The less she let the unknown wreck havoc on her insides, the more she could focus on important things.
"No. I'm rubber. You're glue. Everything you say bounces off me and sticks to you," Nikita shot Michael a lopsided grin over her shoulder. His overexaggerated eye roll was easy to spot. But his own lips lifting into a cheerful smile was a lot smaller. Despite his efforts to hide it from her, she saw it. Her grin bloomed across her face.
Scoffing- it honestly sounded more like chuckling- Michael shoved Nikita into Birkhoff's hacker room. She smiled in triumph. Except, the grin soon melted into a taunting grimace at the sight of Birkhoff. He matched her expression with his own fake scowl. They were two steps away from just sticking their tongues out at one another. Instead, the hacker simply teased the agent, "Ah. There she is, the exotic beauty that'll slink past all that security."
"I can and will end your entire bloodline," Nikita deadpanned. She would never be in the mood to joke about how her body was consistently used as an object. Even on missions where her mind and skills had to be the sharpest they had ever been, she was still only relegated to the distraction and pleasure the sight of her brought men. It disgusted her; it made her skin crawl and stomach hollow. The last thing she needed was to talk about it, especially with her friend. That somehow made it all the more worse.
"Save it for the North Korean official," Michael tried to bring the two back on topic. Nikita and Birkhoff could and would devolve into a bickering match if they weren't stopped. Sometimes, it was fun to watch. But they couldn't be distracted that day.
"Wait. Is the military hospital in North or South Korea? Cause I'd be more concerned about getting in and out of the country than just dealing with some guards," Flipping through one of the files on Birkhoff's desk, Nikita readily dove back into the mission. She'd rather do that than discuss being a honeytrap. Which probably said a lot about her, yet she refused to acknowledge that. She simply put on another mask.
"Fortunately, for his surgery, the target's being moved to a South Korean hospital," Michael clarified. That was the reason the mission was such a great opportunity for Division. They actually had a chance at a North Korean official. They couldn't waste that shot.
"Cool. But besides you idiots, I'm soloing this mission," Setting aside the file, Nikita concluded easily. Percy had spoken to her alone because she'd be the only agent sent into the field. Michael and Birkhoff would provide support from Ops, but it wouldn't be enough. Everything remained all on her. If it went wrong, if she was in danger, she'd be all alone. She'd have to figure out how to succeed and survive without a backup team. Normally, Nikita would have no problem with that. At least she could pretend she didn't. Yet that mission was different. Of course it was when the North Koreans were involved.
"There won't be a cavalry. It's the only way this works," Regretfully, Michael reiterated the point. He didn't like the idea. Nikita shouldn't have to be thrust into danger without a support system. He didn't care that against a heavily guarded hospital wing and an important North Korean official, Nikita being alone was for the best. She should have protection. He should help keep her safe in the field.
Studying the dark shadow that passed over Michael's expression, Nikita believed for a half a second that she knew what he had been struggling with in the shooting range. He was really worried about her. She wanted to say something about that, possibly reassure him. However, Birkhoff interrupted her. His concern for her was far less severe than the handler's, "And if you hadn't called me an idiot, I would've helped protect you."
"Nerd. I'd be in more danger if you did have a gun. Stick to the computers," Nikita forced the nerd to refocus. She didn't want to think about him out in the field. She was certain that'd only bring her pain and annoyance. She had enough of those already.
"I could be great backup," Grumbling, Birkhoff began to hack into the hospital Nikita would be infiltrating. It didn't matter that he had never shot anyone, or his field experience was strictly limited to sitting in a van on his laptop. He had had similar training as the recruits. He could fight. And in a dangerous situation, he'd ensure his friend stayed safe.
"Yeah. In virtual reality," Michael rolled his eyes. They should simply stick to the roles they were assigned. The operation needed them at their best, so they should perform the jobs they were more than used to. They could mess around with what they did in Division later- possibly in one of Birkhoff's videogames.
Birkhoff huffed. He knew Michael was right. He couldn't say anything else on the matter. But when the mood in the room drastically shifted into something grave and morose as they studied the kill mission, he figured he could at least lighten the tension. Harsh feelings shouldn't weigh them down until after the op was complete, "How do you know this isn't the simulation?"
"Cause I have to sit here and talk to you," Nikita playfully nudged Birkhoff's head. He didn't retaliate right away. The two simply chuckled in the light moment before planning and executing the hellish mission.
"It's too good to be true, huh Nikki?" Rolling out his chair, Birkhoff intentionally bumped into Nikita's shins. He beamed. She harshly shoved his chair back into his desk. Michael chuckled along with them that time.
"You know it, Babe," Nikita's laughter soon turned sultry as she leaned down to husk against Birkhoff's ear. Blush crept up his neck and stained his cheeks. He tried to pretend that she didn't have that effect on him, yet she knew. She could always make the nerd squirm. It was her best way to shut him up while they had their arguments.
"You two done? Great. Let's concentrate on killing the target and helping our girl get home alive," Once he got control of his laughter, Michael instructed his agent and hacker. They were slow to get started, though. Birkhoff shot the handler a strange look for his phrasing, and Nikita smiled all too knowingly. Michael had to get them to move on and just get to work.
Once they were focused on their task, the three had their operation perfectly planned. Nikita was prepared to sneak around a heavily guarded hospital and plant a chip into the official's brain without anyone noticing. She honestly thought that'd be more difficult than it was. But with the North Korean undergoing surgery for a subdural hematoma, she didn't have to work too hard. She was in and out. The longest part (and worst in her opinion) was traveling to and from the hospital. Everything worked out well. Nikita almost felt as though she had worked herself up over nothing. However, her ill-feelings returned once they had to kill the target.
Percy was the one to finally pull the trigger. The chip Nikita had implanted in the official's brain went off. He died instantly. Although Michael, Birkhoff, and Nikita stood in transfixed horror at the sight, that wasn't the worst thing that had occurred. Percy mentioned implementing the killchips on the recruits. The suggestion made Nikita sick. She couldn't excuse herself from Ops fast enough. Though, she didn't go home to rest like she had claimed. She returned to the target range. Michael eventually caught up with her. He barely asked her what she was thinking, she blurted it immediately, "He won't actually put that thing in agents, will he?"
"Not while I'm here to stop it," Michael's tone and voice were so low and serious, they were almost frightening. Nikita snapped her eyes to his, studying every inch of him. The official's death had frightened him too. And the thought of recruits suffering the same fate more than pissed him off. However, he didn't hang around Ops to yell at Percy about it. He snuck out with Nikita to hide.
Michael had done that before. After her first kill mission, he didn't express his discomfort with the op. He went along with it until he nearly broke down in her recruit room. Nikita had the feeling he could explode again then. She wondered what could possibly push him over the edge. What would make him break his stupid loyalty to Percy and Division. Apparently, it wasn't going to be the killchips. He was quick to change the subject and ignore the whole thing, "You did great. The world's safer because of you."
"You really believe that," Nikita wasn't asking. She also wasn't talking about her performance. Did Michael really believe Division was what made the world better after everything they had done. Sure, missions like that one that took out North Korea's nuclear weapons were great. But what about the murder of an innocent and defenseless child. Where was the justification in that.
"We do some good here. Division does the things others can't. It's how we protect the world," Michael wouldn't admit that Division was the greatest institution in the world. There definitely had to be changes. And there was a lot he didn't like about it. Yet it wasn't all bad. Sometimes, more people were saved than killed on missions.
"As long as it's not a mission for hire, right?" Nikita fired back. She knew his reluctance to perform operations that weren't sanctioned by the government. Michael was aware that there was corruption in the root of Division. Yet he didn't act on it. He never acted on what he thought was wrong with the place. He was as loyal as the rest of them. She shouldn't delude herself into thinking otherwise. Their talks in private wouldn't amount to anything. He'd be loyal despite the dissension that grew in her heart.
Michael and Nikita stared at one another for a long moment. Neither spoke or crossed the widening gap between them. The two simply tried to adjust and react to the words that hung between them. After a while, they didn't think they could do it. That was just going to stay between them. Hopefully, it'd be resolved before it festered.
After the long and trying few days Nikita and Michael had had, maybe it was a good thing they didn't do anything about the words currently. Their emotions wouldn't be so raw that they'd hurt one another if they took a minute to cool off. They could keep acting like friends, or the strange equivalent of it that they were. Finding them in the target range, Birkhoff gave the two the perfect opportunity to do just that. They could go out to eat like normal people, "Sup? I'm starving and need fresh air. Who's up for dinner?"
"I can eat. As long as you don't pick the restaurant," Nikita flashed a smug grin at Birkhoff so she wouldn't have to look at Michael. She'd just distract herself with the nerd. That had worked for her before.
"I second that," However, Michael stole her attention back with his smoky voice. He nudged Birkhoff as if the restaurant comment was all his statement was about, yet Nikita caught the weight behind it. She just didn't know if that would change anything or not.
