Disclaimer: Okay, well I have to say that in no way do I own Nikita, Michael (yummy), Operations, Madeline, Steven, Birkoff, or Walter. Yada, yada, yada. Blah, blah, blah. The episode "Missing" belongs to USA network in full and I just hope that someday, I might become one of their scriptwriters. But until they have a job opening for a blonde hottie with a twisted mind, I guess I'll just have to have my fun this way.
Author's Note: Like I said in the synopsis, this is all about what happens when promises are broken and fulfilled. It takes place as an alternate-ending thing to the episode "Missions." I had fun playing with this one. Honestly, it started out being a 'Steven and Operations, father-son' thing, and turned into more of a 'let's see what happens when Michael and Nikita really GET TOGETHER' thing. Um, if you haven't read the 'Contamination Trilogy', you might want to, because I wrote this as if that had already happened, which means that things from THAT story are mentioned in this one. But if you didn't, you'll survive. Again, character's thoughts are recognizable as being in between these cute little thingies here: '~'s, and if sexuality bothers you or is offending to you, please, read my other stories and leave this one alone!
Promises
by Mara
Synopsis of "Missing": Operations shows up in Nikita's apartment. He tells her that he has a son, who is a target on her next mission. She is to protect Steven and never tell anyone that he is Operation's son. She agrees. When he comes to her apartment the second time, she secretly makes a digital recording of the meeting and a bargain with Operations. The deal is that, Operations is to give Nikita her freedom, and in exchange, Nikita has to keep Steven alive throughout the mission. Operations gives Michael the assignment of watching her. Nikita fulfills her end of the bargain, and the story picks up where Nikita is meeting with Operations in his office, just after debriefing.
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Nikita leans against the wall of Operations' office. He looks at her innocently, though she sees right through it.
"I've verified that Steven is safe. Thank you." He pauses, twisting his face, trying to look disappointed. "I tried Nikita, I really did. I pulled every string I could, but in the end, I just couldn't make it work. You'll have to stay in the Section."
Sarcastically making light of the situation, Nikita tries to control her anger. "I'm sure you gave it your all."
"You might be surprised." Had he been anyone else, Nikita would have believed the sincere tone in his voice.
"I'd be down right shocked if you lifted a finger!" Her rage was getting harder and harder to keep in check.
Operations switched back to bargaining mode. "You could ask for anything else, and it's yours, but not your freedom."
Taking a deep breath, Nikita tried to appear in total control of herself, but she couldn't keep the hatred out of her voice. "I DID warn you not to try this. Listen carefully. The night you came to my apartment the second time, I made a digital recording. It's all on tape. YOUR face, YOUR voice, YOUR admission that Steven's your son. Unless I make a phone call, that tape will be delivered to him within the hour. He'll know everything."
"A tape?" Nikita wasn't fooled by Operations' poor attempt at appearing shocked, but she doubted he knew of her back-up plan.
"That's right." Nikita had guessed that he would put a tail on her, so she made a second copy of the tape and gave it to her neighbor, Carla.
"You mean this tape?" Pulling the tape from his coat, Operations looked like the cat that swallowed the canary.
Nikita smiled a little more. "Yes, that one, and it's twin." Operations lost his smug look. Nikita arched her eyebrows. "What? You didn't get the other tape? I HAD to make a second tape. After all, I was trained SO well." She kept mocking him until he couldn't take any more. As a favor to Nikita, Carla had promised to deliver the tape to Steven personally at 3 P.M.
Through clenched teeth, Operations tried not to rip her throat from her body. "Where is the tape Nikita?"
"Oh, gee, I don't know." She looked at her watch with an expression of false innocence, then suddenly changed her mind. "Then again, maybe I do."
His voice grew a little more angry. "Where is it?"
"Hmm, yes, it should be reaching its destination, right...about...now." Nikita looked very pleased with herself. "I told you not to double cross me. And now look what's happened. Poor, abandoned little Steven knows who his big bad father is. Really, you should thank me. Now you can have the perfect father-son relationship."
"Nikita, if he gets a hold of that tape and finds out who I am. If he finds ME, and anything happens to him, you'll be sorry. I swear to you, you'll regret the day you ever came to Section."
Nikita's tone grew harsh and her jaw tightened. She spoke slowly, stressing each word carefully, as if speaking to a foreigner who didn't understand much of her language. "I already do." Turning on her heel, Nikita headed for the door.
The door slid aside to let her pass, but as her left foot crossed the threshold, Nikita was stopped by Operations' voice. "If you're bluffing, I won't hold it against you. If you DO have a second tape, it could be very valuable. A trip to Hawaii, some time off, a raise. Name it, and it's yours."
Like a lioness cornering her prey, Nikita turned to face Operations, her eyes blazing fire. "You just don't get it do you? You can't GIVE me what I want!" Looking down at the people in the courtyard, she saw Michael looking up at her. Turning away from him she stalked off, out the door, down hallway to the elevator, then across the small courtyard. No one with half a brain dared cross her path- no one except Michael.
He grabbed her right arm as she walked by and jerked her backwards, pulling her close against him. "What's going on Nikita?" She whipped her head around to stare him straight in the eye.
"None of your business." Her manner toward Michael was cold, not warm and caring like usual.
"I'm MAKING it my business. Tell me, Nikita. Maybe I can help you." His voice was deep and persuasive, and it almost worked.
"I don't believe you, Michael. I thought you were someone I could trust. But you're just like all the others, aren't you? You use me as long as Operations and Madeline want something from me. You're not going to use me this time. It's too late. Steven has the tape." She tried to pull herself free of him, but only succeeded in getting him to tighten his grasp.
"I honestly don't know what you're talking about. What does this have to do with Steven Wolff? Let's go." Michael started to walk away, fairly dragging Nikita behind him.
"Where?" Her struggles against him accomplished nothing. There was no escaping him.
"Someplace quiet, where we can talk."
"I don't have anything to say to you." She gritted her teeth and tried once more to break free, but once again, luck had abandoned her.
"Then you'll have plenty of time to listen." Nikita wasn't stupid; she knew when it was time to give up. Abruptly, she ceased her attacks on Michael and followed him up to the world above Section. Once they reached the surface, Michael grabbed her hand and held it in his own, as though they were just another couple, out shopping on an average February day.
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Keeping a firm, yet gentle grip on Nikita's hand the whole time, Michael wound his way up and down the streets of Paris until he came across what he was looking for. They entered the cafe and Michael gently shoved Nikita into a corner booth, then slid in next to her. Shifting right, he turned to face her, his right leg bent, resting on the red vinyl between them. A waitress came immediately and Michael ordered two Mocha lattes. The girl returned with the drinks shortly and Michael sipped his quietly before saying a word.
Setting his cup down, Michael got straight to the point. "All right, Nikita. We're alone. I want to know what's going on." His eyes looked deeply into hers. "I'm on your side here."
"No one's on my side. You might do better to mind your own business. You know how Operations is."
"Like I said, I'm making it my business." Michael truly cared about her and didn't want her to get in over her head, but what he didn't know was that Nikita was already drowning in an ocean of sharks.
"Don't waste your breath." Her voice softened. "There's nothing you can do...it's too late. But if something should happen to me...I just want you to remember..." Sliding around, she got out at the other end of the booth, that Michael had been unable to block.
"Remember what?" He didn't have to ask what she meant by 'if something should happen to me'. In Section, anything could happen and death was hiding behind every corner, in every dark alley.
"Me," she replied simply. Leaning down, she touched the edge of the table with her hand and kissed the corner of his mouth lightly. Turning to leave, Nikita was surprised when Michael grabbed her hand- not forcefully, as before, but tenderly, as though they really were just another pair of lovers.
"I won't let anything happen to you." It was more than a statement. Coming from Michael, it was a promise.
Nikita smiled, glad to know that he cared. "There's nothing you can do. I wish there were, but getting you involved would only mean sacrificing your life, too. I won't do that."
"I'm not asking you to. If I get involved, willingly, there isn't anything you can do about it." His logic satisfied his own mind, but to Nikita, it was just being foolish.
Keeping her voice low, Nikita tried not to attract the attention of the other patrons in the cafe. "Can the testosterone levels get any higher in here? I don't want you involved. If I die, then I die. As far as everyone else is concerned, I'm ALREADY dead. It won't matter to anyone."
Looking away, Michael tried not to let her see how much her last comment had hurt him. "It matters to me."
"Then I'm sorry, but there isn't anything you can do. Good-bye Michael." Shaking off his hand, she left the cafe and disappeared down the crowded avenue. Michael watched her until he could no longer see her light, golden tresses being blown into the air. Leaving a few dollars on the table next to the nearly untouched cups of coffee, Michael followed Nikita back to her apartment.
She barely had time to enter her apartment and step into a steaming shower when she heard a noise. Remembering that she HAD locked her door, Nikita quietly slid the shower door aside and reached for a towel, leaving the water running. Wrapping it around herself, Nikita grabbed her gun and cocked it. Upon coming home, Nikita had left the doors from the stairs to her bedroom and her bedroom to the bathroom open. Using that to her advantage, she slipped into her bedroom and peered out the door, into the living room. There she saw Michael, sitting on her couch, his legs propped up beside him.
Nikita relaxed and UN-cocked her gun, letting her arm drop. Without even looking up from the painting on the wall opposite her, Michael acknowledged her presence.
"That was quick."
Her answer sounded annoyed, and yet also very relieved. "What are you doing here Michael? I thought that maybe, in my own apartment, I could have SOME privacy."
"This IS privacy."
"Why are you here?" Nikita rolled her eyes and turned, tossing her gun on the unmade bed. Moving her head to again face Michael, Nikita was taken aback to find that he had snuck up on her, that he was directly in front of her. The look in his eyes was unmistakable. It said that he wanted her- badly.
Focusing his eyes on the hollow of her throat, Michael raised his left hand and let it slide softly down her right arm. Looking intensely at her face, he watched as the gesture sent chills through Nikita's entire body and she closed her eyes, never wanting the feeling to stop. ~What is he doing? Is this because he thinks I'm going to die? Maybe he KNOWS I'm going to die. Oh, God, I don't care if I die, I just want to feel like this forever.~ Again raising his left hand, Michael cupped the back of her neck and drew her to him and his lips pressed against her skin, moving from the base of her throat, up to her ear, half licking, half sucking on it. After a moment, Michael's mouth could no longer resist the temptation of Nikita's. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Nikita pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.
The minutes went by and the two of them just stood there, fiercely engrossed in each other's lips. As she shifted a little, Nikita's towel fell from her body and Michael put his hand on her naked back. Walking forward, pushing her backwards, he managed to get her back up to the bed. His mouth never leaving hers, Michael slipped out of his jacket and shirt, letting them drop to the ground. He undid his belt and removed his pants, again tossing them aside. Laying her down gently, he shoved the gun to the floor as well.
Michael and Nikita made love, knowing that this might be the last time they would ever be together. Afterwards, they just held each other for a long time, eventually falling asleep. When Michael awoke at dawn the next morning, he found Nikita snuggled up to his chest and knew that he should be getting home, but couldn't quite bring himself to just LEAVE. Nikita looked so peaceful when she was asleep, her long hair spread over the pillow, some falling across her face. Brushing it back, Michael once again whispered words to her that she wouldn't remember.
"I love you." He softly kissed her lips and just stared at her, hoping to God that he could fix whatever trouble she was in. If it came down to choosing between Section One and Nikita, he would choose Nikita. Michael lay there, remembering the last time they had been together.
Months ago, he had helped Nikita escape from Section. When she left, she was gone for months. Before the mission, he had secretly given her a communication unit that Section couldn't tap into. The mission was supposed to kill all the operatives who went, except Michael himself, and, of course, Birkoff. A minute before the building was going to explode, Michael had sent Nikita a message, telling her that it was a suicide mission and she had one minute to get out alive, then she could leave Section and be presumed dead. Six months and tons of messages asking if she was alive later, Michael saw Nikita on a mission. She saved him from being shot by a target. After that, he had found her, gone to see her, and that was the first time that they had ever had sex.
Nikita moaned slightly and shifted against him. Feeling the heat of Michael's skin against hers, the dam burst and the events of the previous night came flooding back to her. Looking up, at Michael's chin, Nikita didn't smile, afraid of what she would find in his eyes. ~I can't look at him. What if I see something I don't want to see?~ Rolling over, Nikita tried to focus on her alarm clock. It read 5:17 A.M. ~I should be getting ready for a major confrontation with Operations, not lying here next to Michael.~ Nikita braced herself for the worst and turned over to look at him. What she saw there was complete openness and more love than she had ever known he was capable of giving.
Nikita propped herself up on her elbow and yawned. "You're not going to ask again?" This was the moment of truth. If Michael asked, then last night was just an act, but if he didn't...
He did his trademark look, turning to look past her and look back before answering. "No. If you want me to know, you'll tell me, and if not, then I can live with that. I just hope you can." Just as in the restaurant, Nikita leaned over and kissed Michael's lips softly, glad that he had given the right answer.
"I want to tell you, but I can't. Not telling you might be my only chance at living."
"I understand. I just want to protect you. That's all I've ever wanted." Looking into his eyes, Nikita knew that he was telling the truth.
"Thank you." The spell was broken and Nikita was shocked at herself. She had almost told him about Steven. That would have been selfish and would have only brought trouble for him.
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Operations paced back and forth in his office, not sure what was going to happen next. He wanted to see Steven, but going to him would be selfish and cruel. To let Steven attach himself again, only to be ripped away once more. That's not to mention the possibility of others finding out that he is Operations' son.
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Nikita got up and walked to her bathroom. Turning on the shower, which she decided Michael must have turned off during the night, she waited a moment for it to warm up, then stepped inside, pulling the door shut behind her. Washing her hair and body felt so good. It was like sitting in a bubble bath after a marathon. The phone rang, but not the cellular phone Section had given her. It was the public access phone. Annoyed at this interruption, Nikita turned the water off and reached for a towel just in time to hear Michael answer the phone.
"Hello?" His voice was guarded, cautious.
"Is Nikita there?" The voice on the other end sounded a little jittery.
"Yes. Can I tell her who's calling?" A moment of silence went by and Michael decided to call her. "Nikita?"
"I'm coming." Forgetting the towel, she briskly reentered her bedroom, finding Michael still lying in her bed. Sitting herself on the edge, Nikita took he receiver from him. "Hello?"
"Nikita, it's Steven. I got the tape." He audibly relaxed a little.
"Okay. What do you want with me?" She needn't even ask how he located her or got her telephone number. There were a million resources for people with money and persistence. Michael rolled over, put his arm around Nikita's waist, and began to kiss her back.
"I want you to take me to him."
"I don't know if I can do that." Nikita began to get nervous. This wasn't part of her plan.
"Nikita, please. I'm on the bottom floor of your building. I'm coming up."
"Oh, Steven- wait!" The line went dead and she placed it back in the cradle.
"Steven?" Michael was not only surprised, but jealous.
"Yes. He's coming up here." Nikita sounded exasperated and all around exhausted.
"Then I guess I'd better get in the shower."
"Okay, sure. I'll just get some clothes on." Michael pulled back the sheets and sat up, putting his feet on the floor. In one swift motion, he stood and grabbed Nikita pulling her back to him. Kissing her gently, he pulled her back towards him. They made out like teenagers until there was a knock at the door. Grabbing a silk robe, Nikita pulled away from Michael and put on the robe. Giving Michael one more quick kiss, she ran down the stairs to the door. Opening it, she saw Steven, alone and upset. Pushing it open a little wider, she gestured for him to come in. They both heard the sound of a shower being turned on.
"Who's that?" He was understandably shaky.
"None of you business." Though her voice was somewhat hard, she was compassionate and felt deep sadness for this young man standing before her. Closing the door behind him, Nikita went to the couch and sat, pulling her legs up beside her. "Please, sit." She nodded to the chair opposite her. Steven sat, his back to the stairs.
"Nikita, I want to see him."
Taking a deep breath, Nikita held it for a moment before exhaling. "I don't think I can do that. I know he's your father, and I know you've missed him, but I've put you in enough danger already."
"So you DID send me the tape? It wasn't just some psycho who planted bugs in your apartment?" He seemed relieved, yet also a little more cautious.
"Yes, I sent you the tape." She closed her eyes, wishing that she hadn't. It had accomplished something- making Operations madder than Hell, but it wouldn't get Nikita her freedom. What she had done was stupid and impulsive.
"Why can't I see him?!" Rising in a fit of anger, Steven paced the room like his father. He was surprised to see Nikita looking up and smiling at him. "What are you smiling at?" His tone was rough, but Nikita ignored it.
"You act just like your father."
"Why can you see him, but I can't?!" By now Steven was seemingly a little over the edge. A moment later he noticed that the sound of running water had stopped and Nikita was looking past him, to the top of the stairs, her eyes glazed over. Trying not to seem obvious, Steven reached for his gun and drew it, turning swiftly to face the stairs as he did. There was Michael, dressed in his clothes from the day before, a 9mm in his hands aimed straight at Steven's heart.
"I wouldn't recommend it." Michael's tone was cold, almost cruel. He was obviously a little jealous that Steven was there, not to mention irritated. He had interrupted Michael's time with Nikita, and Michael wasn't about to forgive that. Putting both his hands in the air as a sign of surrender, Steven put away his gun. "What are you doing here?" Steven turned to Nikita in surprise. His face showed the same expression his father's had when Operations pulled the tape from his coat pocket, one of satisfaction and amusement.
"He doesn't know, does he?" Nikita looked down at her lap, not willing to look at Michael, not wanting to see his emotions.
"No. By knowing what I know, my life is in danger. I'm not willing to risk his." Michael walked down the stairs and sat next to Nikita. After thinking about it a moment, Nikita decided to have compassion for Steven and grant him his request. "All right, I've changed my mind. I'll take you to him. Wait here." Standing up, she hurriedly ascended the stairs. Michael quickly followed and closed the door behind him.
"Nikita, what are you doing?" She quickly shed the robe and walked to her dresser. Grabbing clean underwear, she tossed them on the bed.
"I can't tell you Michael. You'll just have to trust me." Going into her bathroom, which adjoined her closet, she entered the closet and took stock of her clothes.
"It's not trusting you I have a hard time with."
Nikita raised her voice, so he could hear her from the bedroom. "I'm sorry, Michael. I really want to tell you. You know I do, but it's not safe. If I tell you, not only will you be in danger, but I'm more likely to die. Is that what you want?"
"Of course not." She reentered the room holding a black, stretchy camisole in one hand and tight black pants in the other. Laying them on the bed, she picked up the pair of lacy, black underwear and put them on. Reaching for her pants, Nikita's hand was stopped by Michael's. "Just be careful."
She smiled at Michael, hoping to reassure him, because what she was about to do could very well get her killed. "I will." He withdrew his hand and just stood there a moment. After Nikita had put on her clothes, Michael pulled her close to him.
"I just don't want anything...BAD...to happen to you." She kissed his mouth quickly and lightly, trying to make light of the whole situation. Michael's arms fell away from her as Nikita turned around and went back to her closet. Emerging a few second later wearing a black leather coat and holding a black silk scarf in her hand, Nikita went to the dresser and ran a brush through her hair. Taking an elastic rubber band, she pulled her hair away from her face and began to secure it into a ponytail. Pulling her hair through the rubber band for the last time, Nikita changed her mind and only pulled it halfway through, leaving it dangling from her head in a loop. Walking over to where Michael had pushed her gun off onto the floor, Nikita picked it up and slid it into the top of her pants, near her left hip, leaving the butt exposed and easy to access. Going to her door, she opened it and descended the stairs with Michael following close behind her.
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Nikita had a black Porsche, but chose to walk most of the time anyway. In the garage below her apartment building, she blindfolded Steven with her scarf and opened the passenger door, helping him to get in. Closing the door behind Steven, Nikita turned to Michael.
"Please, don't worry about me, and don't follow me. Just go home and be safe."
"When are we EVER safe?" Michael took her hand and squeezed it gently, then turned and walked away. Sometimes it bothered Nikita that he could be so seductive and caring one minute, then be so removed and indifferent the next. Walking around to the other side of her car, she opened the door and took the keys out of her pocket. Getting settled in the seat, she closed her door and started the car. Backing out of her parking space, Nikita drove for about twenty minutes, though Section was only about 4 minutes away. By driving for a while and taking all sorts of unnecessary turns, she hoped to confuse Steven even further. The last thing she wanted was for him to die because he knew where Section was.
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Standing outside of Operations' office, Nikita pushed the "doorbell", and the door opened. She stepped inside. "Is this a good time?"
His reply was cordial and almost warm. "I always have time for YOU, Nikita."
Her tone was once again that of over exaggeration and sarcasm. "I'm touched. I think you should come with me. I have something I know you'll want to see." Operations was immediately on his guard. Standing up, he followed her in complete silence. They finally stopped outside an observation room where captives were kept, but it wasn't an interrogation room. This room was used for children who didn't know where they were, who couldn't provide Section with any Intel or information. "There's someone waiting in there to see you."
"No. You didn't bring him here." Operations looked as though he might kill Nikita right then and there.
"He came to my apartment, demanding to see you! What else was I supposed to do?!"
"Anything, but not this." Staring at his son on the surveillance monitor next to the door, Operations smiled, lost in his own thoughts and memories.
Nikita felt sorry for the man standing beside her. Though a cruel dictator, at the moment, Operations was also a father who thought he was about to have to kill his son. "He doesn't have to die. I blindfolded him in my apartment and drove around for twenty minutes before parking a few blocks away. We walked here and he didn't remove the blindfold until he was safely inside the room. He still doesn't know that Section exists."
"Good." He was obviously relieved that his son might live.
"No one else knows he's here, so when your done seeing him, I can just take him back to my apartment and let him go." He didn't say anything. Nikita opened the door and Operations walked in, swinging the door shut behind himself. She just stood there for a minute, watching the two talk. Feeling like she was spying on them, Nikita went to see Walter.
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"Dad?" Steven didn't quite dare believe that after so many years of searching for him, a perfect stranger had led him straight to his father.
"I'm so sorry I had to leave you, Steven."
"Why did you do it, then?" The son wanted answers that his father couldn't give.
"I can't tell you that. I can tell you that I've missed you, that I've missed watching you grow-up over the years."
Steven decided to test this man, hoping to confirm that the man Nikita had called Operations was, indeed, his father. "Remember what you gave me for my fourth birthday?"
Operations looked away and smiled, remembering. "You loved that jacket. You walked around the house for days, pretending you were a soldier. You were so proud to have your own army jacket with your name on it."
Forgetting his pride and the macho image he had worked for and achieved over the years, Steven jumped up from his seat and threw his arms around his father's neck, holding back tears.
"God, I can't believe it's you." The father put his arms around his son and hugged him, closing his eyes, glad to be able to hold him after all the years they were apart.
The two talked for nearly another hour, catching up and speaking of the past. Steven eagerly listened to the little that Operations could tell him about his life.
"Now that you've found me, I want you to have a real life. Get a job, have a family, buy a house." For the first time since he'd taken over Section, Operations was being completely truthful and doing what was in someone else's best interest rather than his own.
"I don't want that! I want to be with you." Steven looked up at Operations with such soulful eyes, silently begging his father not to leave him again.
"Being in my world would mean giving up everything you have, everything you are. I don't want that for you."
"But what about what I want? What if that's what I want for myself?"
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"Madeline, do you remember Steven Wolff?"
"Yes." She looked up from the mission plans on her desk and turned her full attention to Operations.
"Do you think he would make a good Operative?"
She took a moment to answer. "Yes. He's got the intelligence and the basic skills to make a good operative. Why do you ask?"
"When could he start his training?" Madeline was secretly wondering why her questions were obviously being avoided. She, along with the rest of Section, didn't know that he was Operations' son.
"Is he here?"
"Yes. He's in an observation room, but he doesn't know where he is...I asked Nikita to bring him in." He gestured to her and Madeline acknowledged her presence for the first time. She smiled at Nikita before turning back to Operations.
"That's good. Michael could start training him right away if you like."
"Is there anyone else who could train him?" She sounded almost panicked.
Before Operations could stop her, Madeline moved in on Nikita. "Why? Michael is the best operative we have."
"I just don't think Michael's the best choice for Steven. When we were on the mission, they didn't get along."
"Very well. Madeline, find someone else to train Steven and get someone to bring his things. Nikita, go get him and bring him to my office." Operations was glad to have the situation settled and, despite Madeline's curiosity, she recognized that the subject was closed.
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Steven was startled and then immediately disappointed when the door opened and he saw that it was Nikita rather than his father.
"What's going on?"
"You've been officially robbed of your life, privacy, dignity, and freedom. Come on, your father wants to see you." Steven obediently followed Nikita into his father's office.
Looking around, Steven was surprised to see that one wall was a window looking down on what looked like a public square, only underground.
"Thank you, Nikita, that's all." Nikita glared at him, angered that he had been so selfish in regards to his own son. As soon as she had left, the older man looked to his son. "Steven, welcome to Section One."
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Nikita walked across the brown tile outside of Operations' window. Looking up, she saw Steven looking down at her. On her way out, Nikita saw Michael coming in.
"Hi." She smiled at him, pleased to see him.
"Hi." His manner was reserved and calculated. Ignoring it, she pressed farther.
"Would you like to get a cup of coffee?"
From the look on his face, Nikita realized she had been played for a fool again. "Maybe some other time."