Set pre-series, throughout the series, and post-series. Mikita and their good luck charms.
Michael had been avoiding Nikita. Since their confrontation in her room, he thought it best to stay away from her for a while. They both needed space, and he needed to get his thoughts in check. For some reason, he found that to be impossible when he was around her. There was something about Nikita that just…
Michael wouldn't allow himself to think about it. She was a recruit- a recently promoted agent. And he was her handler. They shouldn't be anything more than friends. They had to be professional. And he had to remember why he was in Division in the first place.
However, Michael couldn't avoid Nikita forever. Not only did his thoughts inexplicably return to her, but she also had something he needed. He was supposed to have taken it back from her when she reported to logistics after her mission. But she had hid in her room. And he had…
Regardless, Michael had to take the keycard back from Nikita then. They could talk without bringing up what had happened in her room. After all, they never discussed that moment in the training room he also tried not to think about. The two could be professional. There was nothing to worry about- or feel guilty about, "I'm going to need that keycard back, Nikita."
"Why give it to me if you only wanted it back? I'm going to be an agent now, right?" Turning away from her things, Nikita questioned Michael. After her promotion to agent, she had been ordered to pack up her recruit room and prepare to be moved to an apartment in the city. She wasn't technically allowed to keep the things she had been rewarded as a recruit, but no one would know if she stole a few things as she finally left the damn bunker. They did give her a few things to take with her, like some clothes, cash, and an ID packet. So what if she took a few more things. It was the least Division owed her after everything.
"You'll get your own badge soon, among other things. This was just sort of a good luck charm," Michael held his hand out for the key card. It had been for provisional access only. Which really meant he should've taken it back from Nikita a lot sooner. Yet she hadn't taken it and run like she would've in her early recruit days. She had grown a lot in her time in Division. Michael couldn't help but feel incredibly proud of her.
"A good luck charm?" Flicking the keycard at Michael, Nikita stared at him skeptically. Was he seriously going to consider what had happened on the mission as good luck. Nothing good had come out of that kill; she couldn't even consider finally being allowed to leave the bunker as good, not how she had achieved it. Michael wasn't that dense to think otherwise, even if he would blindly follow Percy over a cliff.
"You managed to complete and survive the mission, and you brought the badge back to me. It's good luck," Shrugging, Michael tried to own up to what he had said. He wasn't entirely sure why he had called the badge a good luck charm. He simply said the first thing that came to mind that he believed Nikita wouldn't argue against. She had the uncanny ability to make him almost back down from his position- emphasis on almost. He didn't want to get into another fight with her. Things would be easier if she just listened to him, and they could move on from the conversation. Though, a part of him seriously doubted she'd ever listen to him.
"Whatever," Rolling her eyes, Nikita returned to her packing. She didn't want to dwell on the keycard or her fist kill mission any longer. However, she couldn't stop herself from cracking a small smile. Maybe it was the fact that Michael cared if she survived or not that made her grin softly. It was probably stupid, yet she couldn't help it. Especially when Michael reached around her to help her hide a CD she liked in a pile of her clothes.
Before Nikita could leave for her latest mission, Michael stopped her. Maybe he was being paranoid; he shouldn't be that concerned about an agent's mission- especially if they were as capable as Nikita. Except, he was worried about her mission in Paris. She was going to face off against an experienced killer alone. He wanted to go with her so she'd have at least somebody watching her back. But he couldn't drop everything just to be by her side. Instead, he had to simply give her something that'd help. At least, he really hoped that it would, "Here."
"What's this?" Curiously, Nikita examined the silencer Michael was handing out to her. She had her own silencer attached to the gun she was using; she didn't need another one. It wasn't as though she could make a gunshot even quieter. She'd be fine with what she had. Amanda had already assured her of that.
"It'll help you with your shot," Michael insisted. He was definitely being paranoid. There was no way one silencer would help Nikita more than another one. Yet it'd give him peace of mind if she took the offering. It was possible that it'd give her peace of mind as well. She looked as though she needed every ounce of encouragement she could get. If that came in the form of a silencer, she'd gladly take it. And he'd gladly give it.
"What, like a good luck charm?" Finally accepting the silencer, Nikita quipped. If Michael insisted that the key card was a good luck charm for her first mission, then he'd absolutely try to give her another one for her mission in Paris. Though, that time, she doubted she'd argue against him. She really did need that luck.
"If you want to think of it that way. Just make sure you bring it back to me. The mission's not complete unless you do," Smiling softly, Michael replied. Nikita clutched the silencer tightly against her chest, and smiled softly in return.
Nikita was beginning to expect to talk to Michael in private before she jetted off on a mission. Yes, he always talked to her in logistics about the operation. But a habit of him finding her alone and talking to her about somewhat normal things had started to form. It was as though they could have their own little bubble of friendship inside the restricting walls of Division. She really liked those moments. And she believed Michael did too. Otherwise, he wouldn't keep showing up with that crooked smile he only showed her.
That time, when he found her alone in the weapons locker, he had something for her. She already knew what it was before he said anything. Though, she wouldn't take it just yet. She had to tease him first, "Another good luck charm I suppose."
"It's a dangerous mission. You need all the luck you can get," Although Michael's tone was light, his dark green eyes were full of deep concern. All of Division's missions were dangerous. Yet that one was something else. He wasn't going to risk anything when it came to Nikita's- or any of his agents'- life. Whatever he could do to help, he'd do. Though, a good luck charm didn't offer much in terms of protection or help. But at least Nikita would have something. And at least Michael could be with her in some way.
"And of course, the mission's not over unless I bring this back," Nikita was aware of what Michael was doing. By giving her the charm, he wasn't just ensuring that she'd fight for the mission, he was ensuring she fought for herself. Even if she killed her target, the operation wouldn't be a success until she returned the charm to him. She had to survive. For both of them.
"And I'm going to need that back," Michael dropped the object in Nikita's outstretched hand. It wasn't a silencer or a keycard. There was nothing actually useful to the good luck charm he was giving her. Yet that didn't matter to either of them. She simply put it in her mission bag and moved to transportation. When Nikita would finally return to Division, the object would be back in Michael's hands, safe and sound.
Sprinting towards the elevator, Michael tried not to assume the worst. He had heard the chaos over the coms. He knew how bad things had gotten out in the field. But he wouldn't believe it until he saw it. He wouldn't even think about what he was told until he saw for himself. He had never been able to trust his thoughts before. Then wasn't an exception. He couldn't allow himself to think about her lying there. He couldn't think about all that blood…
Unfortunately, when the elevator doors opened, Michael was met with the worst thing he had imagined. Nikita was leaning on Kelly, blood pouring out of a gash above her eye. There was a poor excuse for a field dressing wrapped around her head that attempted to stop the bleeding. But it was of no use. Most of Nikita's body was covered in blood. Her blood.
Michael frantically rushed to her and anxiously looked for any other injury. Judging by the way she leaned against Kelly, he didn't doubt that there were. Yet Nikita ignored his concern and questions. She pushed away his need to help her and put something in his hands instead, "I got it back to you. You're welcome."
While he stared at the object in confusion, Nikita was carried away by the Medics that had arrived. Michael fought the urge to follow. He shouldn't pressure the doctors- or show more panic than he did. He had to stay professional.
However, it was hard to think straight when the object Nikita had returned to him was the good luck charm he had given her before the disastrous operation. It was cracked and covered in blood. Her blood. But it brought her back to him. Michael clutched it tightly against his chest.
Michael had Kasim in his sights. He could see the man he hated more than anything so clearly through his rifle's scope. The trigger was loose under his finger. All he needed was an unobstructed sight and he could kill the bastard. Unfortunately, that never came. He could see Kasim. He could squeeze off a shot. Yet it wouldn't be a clean kill. Michael didn't have a direct shot. People kept getting in his way. If he tried to shoot Kasim, he'd either accidentally shoot someone else and cause him to run, or he'd only injure the bastard. He was so close. He had a chance to avenge his family, but it was no good. He had nothing, "No sho t."
Nikita could feel Michael's frustration. Literally. They were shoulder to shoulder as they hid behind the trees on the hill. They could feel every move and breath they took. It was for tactical reasons. She could be a better spotter if she remained right by his side. However, it was distracting feeling his warmth burn against her bicep. The adrenaline that had hit when Kasim was out in the open had helped her refocus. But she had to remain focused. Helping Michael get his revenge was far more important than what she felt.
Spying through her scope again, Nikita noticed a propane tank in the back of the house. That'd certainly cause enough of a distraction to get Kasim back into the open. Michael would have another shot at the man who had taken everything from him. She'd make sure of it, "There's a propane tank out back. It goes boom, they run out, you tag Kasim."
"No, it's too dangerous. I can't let you go down there alone," Michael instantly negated. He couldn't argue that it wasn't a good plan; an explosion would definitely give him another chance to kill Kasim. Yet it was too risky. Nikita could get caught by a guard, or she could get caught in the explosion. It was safer to just wait until the meeting ended, even if it wasn't ideal.
"Can't wait it out. We have to control the play, Michael," Putting her scope away, Nikita had already made up her mind. They didn't know how long Kasim would be in his meeting. They could be sitting in the woods for hours, growing tired and getting cold. They could also get caught by guards. Or, worst of all, it could be dark by the time Kasim left and they'd lose their window to kill him completely. The two had to control the outcome. They had to force the kill to happen or else it never would.
"You'll have to take out his car," Eyeing the situation through his scope, Michael relented. Nikita's risky plan was worth it if it meant being able to kill Kasim. Honestly, anything was. But at least there were ways to make it less of a risk. Only those who deserved to die would that day. And despite what Nikita had done by going rogue, Michael didn't believe she deserved to die- especially not for him.
"I know," Nikita sighed. She made sure she had her knife and her gun before she began to move down the hill. The propane explosion should give her enough cover to race back to Michael. If not, she could always find a way back to the hotel. Honestly, her exfil wasn't that important to her; she'd come up with an escape plan once Kasim was out of the building. As long as Michael had peace, she didn't care about anything else. She didn't even care about him being in Division. She just wanted him to be happy.
Right before Nikita could take off, Michael held her back. He trusted her to draw out Kasim, but still didn't like the idea of her going alone. He'd feel a lot better if she was as equipped as possible. So, he unsheathed his knife and held it out to her, "Alright, take this."
"I have," Nikita refused to take the offered knife. She had her own knife stashed in her boot that was perfectly capable of slashing tires and taking out guards. Michael's wasn't that much more impressive. Though, it was bigger and sharper.
"Mine is better, and I don't need it up here," Michael rolled his eyes. If it was possible, Nikita had become more stubborn since going rogue. Couldn't she accept someone else's help just once. Although he couldn't go down with her, he could still be of assistance. He'd give her something that'd help. He'd provide luck and encouragement even from his position on the hill, "As long as you bring it back…"
"This mission's over. I know, Michael. I'm a big girl now. I don't need a good luck charm," Nikita huffed. Michael seriously didn't have to worry about her. She wasn't a scared recruit anymore. She could handle herself on a mission without needing something to clutch to her chest. She also didn't need the hope of returning his knife to him to carry her through. Ensuring he had peace was enough.
"Take it anyway, big girl," Holding out the handle of the knife one more time, Michael smirked. Nikita couldn't make herself argue with him anymore. She just fought her own smirk as she finally accepted the knife.
Kissing Michael felt so good. Nikita could spend forever just lying in bed, caressing and kissing him. That was certainly her goal for the night. The two were completely, absolutely, totally alone together- no Division, no war, no drama. They could spend all their time in bliss; she could kiss and touch him all she wanted. However, as she burrowed into the pillows and pulled him with her, she suddenly remembered there was something else she had to do. She had something of Michael's that needed to be returned. Although Nikita had to stop kissing him in order to do that, she knew it was important enough, "Wait. I have something for you."
Nikita scrambled out of bed and hurried to her desk. Michael followed. He didn't know what she was doing, but he'd go along with it if it meant they could quickly return to kissing in bed. Rapidly, Nikita searched her desk until she finally found what she was looking for. She held it out to Michael proudly, "The mission's over. I can give this back to you now."
"I thought I lost this," Chuckling in surprise, Michael took back his knife. He absolutely remembered giving it to Nikita, yet he had believed that she had dropped it in the chaos. He obviously didn't know her as well as he had thought. Of course she'd hold onto something he had given her. Especially if it was supposed to bring her luck. She had to return it to him one day- keep her promise. He knew then that she'd always keep her word when it came to him. He never had to doubt. He could trust her, "I guess I wasn't looking hard enough."
Smiling adoringly at one another, Michael and Nikita kissed sweetly. As their warm bodies drifted back towards each other, their kiss grew more impassioned. Michael soon put his knife back on the desk in favor of picking Nikita up and carrying her to bed. He could grab his weapon when he left in the morning. In the meantime, he'd much rather be focused on her.
"What? No good luck charm?" Nikita eyed Michael over skeptically. Ever since he had joined her in her fight against Division, they had gone on every mission together. That was the first time they were splitting up. He usually hated being apart from her, especially on missions. That was why he gave her something to hold onto. He could be with her always, protecting her in his own weird way. Just because the situation was different then, didn't mean the tradition had to stop. They could keep holding onto things for each other, and fighting to return them.
"I thought you were a big girl now," Flashing his crooked grin, Michael teased Nikita. Although he was concerned about her being alone on the mission, he wasn't worried about her returning to him. The two would always fight to be by the other's side; they'd always find their way back to each other.
Except, while he smirked, she glared. She wasn't going to leave without something to hold onto. Michael rolled his eyes as he caved. He didn't have a charm to give her, but he did have the next best thing, "How 'bout a good luck kiss?"
Nikita accepted the offer happily. She kissed Michael goodbye and patted his cheek. After they parted, however, he didn't let her go just yet. He wanted to look at her and smile for just a moment longer. She gave him another kiss, then ran off to do what she did best.
The couple spent the afternoon talking. Michael and Nikita had a lot of things to discuss, especially concerning their relationship. Although they treated the topic seriously, they made certain that the conversation stayed light. They had futures ahead of them- real, actual, free futures. They didn't have to be grim about anything anymore.
Well, most things they didn't have to remain serious about. Studying the engagement ring that was back on Nikita's finger, Michael grew solemn. He had always wondered why she had left behind her ring when she ran. He knew then that she actually wasn't leaving him behind. Yet it definitely felt like that at the time. There had to have been a reason why she had abandoned her ring. She had done it to the team in an ill-advised attempt to protect them. So what about her ring, "If you still wanted to marry me, why'd you leave your ring?"
"I'm sorry," Nikita continued to apologize for leaving; she was positive that she'd be doing that for the rest of her life. She never should've left her team or the man she loved. She had only intended to keep them safe. However, there were so many horrible consequences to her actions. One of which was that Michael believed she didn't want to marry him. But that wasn't true at all. She had always wanted to be with him. She hadn't left her ring behind to break up with him, but to save him, "I knew my ring would be safer with you then with me. And, incase… incase anything happened to me… you'd at least still have something of mine."
Michael tore his eyes away from the engagement ring to stare at Nikita. She held his hand tightly in hers, and forced herself to stare back. Although she felt guilty for leaving, she wouldn't shy away from her thoughts. She had had good reasons to leave her engagement ring behind. The last one she knew Michael would agree with, "It was also a good luck charm. As long as you brought it back to me, the mission was over."
Unsure of whether to roll his eyes or laugh, Michael continued to stare at Nikita. She was absolutely serious. He had given her so many good luck charms over the years, she had to return the favor. She had given him her engagement ring to help him, protect him, encourage him, and give him hope when she couldn't be there. She had given him her ring to ensure that one day he'd come back to her.
Of course he had returned to her side. It took them time to get back to where they were, yet it was worth it. They had since sworn until death did them part. The two weren't going to be separated ever again. There was no more need to fight to remain by each other's side. And there was no more need for good luck charms. Michael and Nikita were in each other's arms for good.
Caressing Nikita's cheek with his free hand, Michael smiled. He was so glad that her plan for her engagement ring had worked out. But that was the last time they would ever be doing that. No one was going anywhere. Also, they were both too old for good luck charms, "I'm a big boy now. I don't need a good luck charm."
"How 'bout a good luck kiss?" Nikita grinned softly. Chuckling, Michael accepted the offering. The two kissed gently at first, but it soon grew impassioned. They eventually forgot all about talking for a while and simply kissed, caressed, and lied in bed for as long as they could.
