After cleaning the medical supplies and disinfecting her wounds once again, Michael brought Nikita some of his clothes to change into. He had to help her off the counter, yet she managed to change clothes- at least somewhat. He had to supply a hand here and there, attempting to keep her privacy. She didn't complain or push him away. She simply leaned on him when she needed to. That was his first sign that the consequences of her injury had caught up to her. The next was that, although protests bubbled on her lips, she remained silent as he gently, and ever so slowly, carried her to the bed.
With her blood loss and infection, Nikita was easy to put to bed. She made a small complaint about not wanting to take Michael's bed, yet he quieted her with the assurance that he didn't need much sleep. Besides, there were tons of things he had to do in the aftermath of her escape that she wasn't up for. The car she had stolen needed to be cleaned and dumped- as did her ruined clothes. He had to try to erase her path to the motel; though. if Division had followed her, they would've burst down the motel room door by then. Nikita and Michael were in the clear. But precautions still had to be taken. They couldn't suffer any more harm.
Maybe since they were back together- back to working together- the two could be alright. They'd have more assurance of that if the whole team of rogues was back together, however. Michael knew it. Their lack of communication and stupid need to separate themselves nearly got Nikita killed; she could still be in danger, since his limited medical skills might not be enough for her injuries. If the rogues had stuck together, not fewer dangers would have befallen them. It was even possible that they'd be further in their crusade.
Because what did separation cause if not more pain. Michael was blinded by his hurt after what Nikita and Birkhoff had done at the airport. He was so clouded by revenge he couldn't see the help that they were. He wasn't able to see the kind of care they had for him. A part of him was still angry about being denied his chance at Kasim. However, he couldn't punish his team forever. Especially not when he realized he would've done the same thing had he been in their position. When Nikita had been in danger, he didn't think about whether she was succeeding on her mission or not. He only thought of saving her. He'd always try to save her.
She'd always try to save him too (and Birkhoff applied to all of that as well). That had been made clear, which meant the rogues should work together. Revenge could happen later. Michael knew he'd have another chance at Kasim. But when it came to his team, he couldn't flippantly give them up. They were all each other had in their war (and also Alex, if Michael and Birkhoff ever got to meet her). What was the point of a slim chance at revenge if there was no one waiting on the other side- there was no one to go back home to.
That was what the rogues wanted, right. After they defeated the evil that was Division, they wanted freedom and their own lives. That had to include home. What was life without home. The rogues had to be that for one another. No more lack of communication. No more running away. They had to be with each other during every part of their war- easy or difficult. Michael should be the one to take the first step in that. He had a lot to atone for. Although he and Nikita had started on that path, he needed to involve Birkhoff as well. So after he finished cleaning and disposing, and resting a bit, he called the hacker, "Yo, Birkhoff, we gotta talk."
Instantly, Birkhoff agreed. Nikita was still dead asleep, so she was kept out of the conversation. Michael did change her bandages and checked her wounds for infection. Her bronze skin around the areas- notably her thigh- was still hot and irritated. But it wasn't worse than earlier. She was fine. He could step outside as he shared everything with Birkhoff, and not have to worry about her. That allowed him a moment of breath. Weight lifted off Michael's shoulders as he dealt with his team. There was still a long way for them to go, but it was a start.
Michael and Birkhoff weren't able to catch up on much. They needed Nikita to fill in the gaps. Notably, they needed her to tell them about Alex and what happened when she was held by Division. But neither were willing to wake her to make her talk. She'd tell them eventually. And when she did, it'd be in Birkhoff's safehouse. The rogues had to meet face to face in order to fix what had been broken. They also had to actually, physically, be together once more. The hacker's safehouse was the best place for that. It was where they had gotten together in the first place.
While the men waited for Nikita to finally wake, they just talked about themselves. Michael and Birkhoff needed to reconnect. They didn't yell at one another like Michael and Nikita had to get anywhere. The two simply talked. They talked for a while. Laughter and jokes eventually floated over the phone, making the hacker and the agent smile. Yet it didn't last long. When Michael stepped back into the motel room to check on Nikita, she was missing from bed and painful noises came from the bathroom. Birkhoff let him go so he could rush in and help her. She was fine, though. She was only washing her hands, "Good thing I kept the door unlocked."
"You could've waited for me," Anxious muscles relaxing, Michael rolled his eyes. Once Nikita finished, he helped her shuffle back to bed. She finagled her way onto the mattress, not needing his assistance anymore. He knew he should see that as a good sign. After some much needed rest, she was back to her stubborn self. Her injuries continued to be worrisome, yet she was on the mend. Michael should relish in that. Instead, he was annoyed with her need to do everything herself. If he had learned his lesson when it came to that, then so should she.
"I was fine," Settling back against the pillows, Nikita huffed. She just had to go to the bathroom. She didn't need Michael's help torturously hopping across the small motel room. She did appreciate him for changing her bandages while she slept. When she noticed, she smiled softly. There was no way she could've patched herself up on her own. But peeing, she didn't need anyone's assistance in that. Regardless of the fact, Michael scoffed at her. Nikita shot him the best glare she could, yet she wasn't sure how menacing it looked with her wild hair and small frame dwarfed in his sweats, "What?"
"You're something else," Michael just smiled. They had been there before. Nikita had been in his clothes and in his bed, stubbornly refusing to let him help take care of her. Though, it had been a long time since then. She had let him patch up her wounds. She also scooted in the bed so he could join her. The two weren't the same people they were months ago- or even a day ago. They didn't have to keep having the same arguments. Besides, there were times when he found her stubbornness to be endearing. Just as there were times when she considered his overprotectiveness sweet.
"And you're else," Nikita shrugged. The comeback didn't make sense, but it made her crack a small smile. Michael of course had to smile in return. The two were sitting far too close to one another on the bed. She wasn't able to move over much without her muscles spasming in pain. And he sat on the edge of the mattress so he didn't accidentally hurt her. However, they were still so close. Their eyes burned into each other's. Hers lit in golden rays while his darkened like an evergreen forest. Both of their lips parted as though the air had become thinner. It was definitely harder to breathe. Which only made it harder to think.
Nikita's and Michael's hands brushed one another's on the mattress. Each finger was callused and worn after all the battles they had fought. Yet the digits tripped over themselves nonetheless. The movement was so absentminded, Michael and Nikita didn't even glance at their joined hands. They just stared at each other. They watched as their eyes glowed while they drifted closer to one another. Neither was conscious of how close they were becoming until their foreheads brushed. Once they did bump, their lips were close to follow.
The kiss was slow and hesitant at first- almost like Michael and Nikita didn't know what they were doing. As soon as they figured it out, however, their kiss immediately deepened. Her hand slipped out of his to wrap around his neck and pull him down to her. He steadied her with warm hands on her hips. Although their fingers lightly caressed where they touched, all of their focus was on their lips. The two kissed passionately and feverishly, like a fuse had been lit. Finally, everything they had thought and felt about one another made sense.
However, on a brief pause for heavy air, Michael's mind snapped back to him. What were they doing. Nikita was severely injured and in need of more rest; she shouldn't be so active. He knew better than to take advantage of her like that. He knew better than to succumb to his instincts, especially when they had the chance to hurt multiple people. He shouldn't kiss Nikita, as much as he wanted to. He had to pull away, put a stop to their actions. He had to save them both from further hurt, "Wait. I can't."
"Michael, I'll be fine," Nikita's lips brushed against his forehead as she swore. She could handle making out with him. Her injured thigh and ribs wouldn't be jostled too much by kissing Michael. It was something she hadn't known she had wanted to do until they were actually making out in his motel bed. Separating from him only made the desire worse. Obviously, they couldn't do much else besides kissing. But that was a wonderful start. Her body was already alive from the intense feeling. He had to have felt the same. Why else would he have parted their lips but stayed so, so close.
"It's not about your injuries. Okay, it's a little about that. But it's not about you. It's about Hayley and Elizabeth," Sitting upright, Michael explained. Yes, Nikita's injuries played a major role in stopping him from kissing her. But it wasn't only about that. He couldn't be present in the moment with her when he still had his wife and daughter on his mind. Kasim continued to haunt him, as did some of the past actions between him and Nikita. Michael couldn't move on from it. After kissing her, he really wanted to. It just took more strength than he had.
"Your wife and daughter," Nikita sighed. She couldn't be upset with Michael if they were his reason for parting from their kiss. He didn't talk much about them. Besides their names, how they were killed, and some small facts about them, Nikita didn't know his family. However, she did know how much Hayley and Elizabeth meant to him. Michael had his whole world taken away when they died. Years later, he was still trying to build that world back up. If he needed time and space to accomplish that, then of course she'd understand. A destroyed heart couldn't be put back together easily.
As she sat upright as well, Nikita slipped her hand back into Michael's. He stared at their joined fingers that time. He studied the way they fit together, calluses and all. It helped ground him from his raging emotions. He was able to think of a better explanation to tell Nikita. She should know what was going on inside his head. Michael wanted to kiss her- the fact was abundantly clear after he had done so. He just couldn't give her all of him yet. Not in the way she deserved, "It's just… until I kill Kasim, I can't… move forward. I want to. But I just feel… guilty. Like I'm betraying them."
"Hey. I will do anything to help you," Tenderly, Nikita caressed Michael's cheek. Her knuckles scraped along his stubbled jaw, and she smiled softly. He turned to kiss her wrist. It wasn't a romantic gesture. Simply a 'thank you' for her continued support. She had made the same promise before. She definitely intended to keep it no matter how that came to be. He hadn't liked how she had handled it before. But she didn't care. She'd rather have him alive than anything else, "That includes saving you even when you think you don't need it."
"And you'll let others do the same with you," Taking a hold of her hand and clutching tightly, Michael flipped the words back on Nikita. He didn't have to rehash his whole argument. She understood him completely. The two were going to let others help them. They were also going to listen to others when they knew what was best for them. As Nikita and Michael knew well, it was easy to get swept up in their missions and not know what they truly needed. Which was why they needed a partner. That was what they were for.
Falling back against the pillows, Nikita expelled a harsh breath. She rubbed at her tired eyes with one hand, the other continued to cling to Michael's. He readjusted their grip and sat by her hip. She potentially needed more sleep before doing anything else. She also probably needed food and water. Yet, those weren't on her list of necessities. She had far bigger problems in mind- if she managed to think properly while her lips still tingled from the kiss, "I'm here, aren't I? Even though I need to shower, and change clothes, and find a way to talk to Alex."
"I can at least help you with clothes and shower. But we'll probably have to move all our stuff into Birkhoff's," Michael told Nikita what he and Birkhoff had discussed. It was a great topic change. Not only was it something they had to talk about, it also kept his thoughts from drifting to how she felt when they had kissed. Their kiss was so dangerous for his emotions. Although he was sure of some things regarding Nikita, guilt and pain tore him apart. He couldn't keep himself straight. So it was better to just ignore it all.
"We should," After hearing the men's decision, Nikita easily agreed. Staying in one place would help the rogues immensely. They could plan better, communicate more efficiently, and become the team they wanted to be. It'd take time for Michael and Nikita to move in completely, though, especially with her bullet wounds. And Birkhoff's safehouse was so remote. Although that helped keep them hidden, it wasn't useful if they had operations in the city. Having a backup safehouse couldn't hurt. One with amazing windows would be even better, "But we should also keep the loft for a staging ground in the city."
"Who said you could be special?" Michael chuckled. Why was he surprised that she wanted to keep her loft. Nikita had mentioned how much she liked it when he had suggested she move in with the team before. She might've come around to the idea of living together, but she couldn't give up her fabulous loft. At least not all the way.
"You did," Nikita beamed. She nudged Michael with her knee, and he laughed. He definitely encouraged her, yet she made it so easy. The way they smiled at one another made everything so easy, even when they were tearing themselves up inside.