If this is too graphic, tell me and I'll remove it. There are some sexy times in the first chapter, so avoid that if you don't like it. I disclaim.

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She knows the difference, she can feel it.

With Daniel it made sense, it was safe and sweet.

With Michael it hurts, yet it's perfect. It's powerful and all-consuming, it's destructive and it saves her.

It's just different.

At first she doesn't know who she is anymore—which is exactly what Division wants, she realizes later—and as soon as she begins to find her place, she falls for him.

Michael makes her want more, he inspires her. She's never said it like that, it hurts too much to say things like that.

To say she loves him? It's heartbreaking, because it will never matter.

She gives up on him though, realizing that he suffers when she's near him. He suffers because he loves her more than he can admit to anyone, especially himself. She can see it though, in the way he looks at her, in the way he teases her, in the way he protects her.

It doesn't matter.

He pushes her away, hurting her in order to do it because she stubbornly insists that their love can survive Division. He says it can't—and later she realizes he was right all along.

He assures her that he doesn't love her, that he can't. He tells her to do her duty to her country.

Sometimes she wonders if he really believes. It doesn't matter though, because at first, she believes him. When she leaves, she builds a life for herself, and eventually she meets Daniel.

Both Nikita and Michael wish she hadn't met Daniel, but it doesn't matter, because she did. She loved him—she loved him in a way that almost made her forget Michael.

She doesn't though—she can't forget him. Her heart aches. She begins to fall in love with Daniel—it breaks Michael's heart to realize this. He tells her not to tell others in Division, but she does. He tells her it's a mistake. He's right, and Daniel pays the price.

When Nikita realizes that Daniel is dead, there's a part of her that wonders if Michael had anything to do with it. She's afraid to ask him, so she doesn't. She doesn't want to know the answer, and there's a part of her that believes that he loves her enough that he would never let that happen. But then she knows he's a yes-man, and that he can do things that hurt her to even think about. Eventually, when Owen tells her the order came from Percy, she realizes she doesn't need to know—because he would never do that to her.

XXXX

Later, she realizes that she is Michael's weak link.

She misses him, but she also misses Daniel, and she feels disloyal.

It's her fault Daniel is dead, the least she could do is mourn him properly, right? The problem is, she's mourning the loss of Michael too.

She doesn't see him for three years. By then, her feelings for Daniel are so wrapped up in regret and guilt that she doesn't know how she feels anymore. He mattered—and she starts to believe that she loved him more than she had ever loved anyone else.

She's only lying though, because that person is Michael.

When she finally sees Michael she thinks she's ready. She reminds him of how attached to her he was. She plays on his feelings for her—just like she has so many times before.

She hopes that by now he's over her—but dreads it just the same.

He's not over her though, and he tells her to go. He says he can't promise what will happen if they meet again, but she can, she says.

Because he still loves her—no matter how hard he fights her, no matter how much pain he inflicts, no matter how much he might insist that he'll cancel her—and that's just how it is.

He loves her.

It hurts Nikita to realize that for him, it's always been her. For her though, he thinks it's always been Daniel. Sometimes she wants to tell him that it's him. That Daniel was great . . . but he wasn't it.

But that's disloyal, and she can't do it. She's the reason he died, so she owes Daniel that much.

So when they begin to come face-to-face quite frequently, they fall into a pattern. They fight, they survive, Nikita leaves, Michael lets her. And although Nikita knows it has to end one day, she hopes it won't be anytime soon.

XXXX

Every time he lets her go it gets harder to leave.

She misses him.

But one day, everything changes.

One day, he doesn't let her go. At first she worries that he's actually done, that he'll kill her, that it's all over. He has her up against a wall, his arm underneath her chin, close to restricting her breathing, yet not quite doing so.

There won't be backup(Nikita planned it that way), so Nikita wonders why he isn't letting her go, but he isn't doing anything else either. She's glad he isn't though, because he's making this easier for her.

She looks into his eyes, but they make her nervous. She's not the nervous type, so she looks anywhere but in his eyes. Her eyes drift to his lips, and she wants—for a shocking, desperate moment—to kiss him.

She looks back up into his eyes, because that's preferable. She feels like she can't breathe, but not because of anything Michael is doing. Or, well, that's not quite true.

She wants him.

She's attracted to him, just as much as she's ever been. And now he's holding onto her, and they aren't fighting. So she can't help but want him—though a part of her realizes that when they fight . . . it's practically foreplay, because that's all they have. She enjoys the pain he inflicts, because for those moments he is touching her, and she can feel him, and she knows he's okay.

She worries about him all of the time. She wants him to be safe.

And she misses him and lo—she cares for him.

She's still staring, but his eyes have drifted to her lips, and she licks them self-consciously.

She feels feverish and warm, which is almost funny because she knows the room they're in has air conditioning. It's on full-blast too, but it doesn't matter.

She can feel him. She wants him, and he wants her, and neither one of them will make the first move.

They move simultaneously, his arm drops and hers rise, wrapping around his neck and his lips slam onto hers.

She misses him, but with the kiss everything suddenly feels . . . right.

She's not thinking about Daniel, or Division, or anything but Michael.

He grunts, lifting his lips from hers, and sliding around to her neck, leaving tingling sensations everywhere. She feels like she's on fire—and all because of him.

She knows this is different, this is not just a kiss. And he knows it too.

Her hands slide down from his neck and grab at his jacket, practically ripping it off. She grabs at his shirt, trying desperately to get beneath. She wants to feel him. She wants her skin against his, so much that she thinks she might die if it doesn't happen fast enough.

His hands have already been quickly at work, sliding off her jacket, pulling off her shirt—breaking the flurry of kisses he's pressing to her skin momentarily—and she knows he wants it too.

She wants it fast, so she grabs at him, trying desperately to hurry him up. He, however, has other ideas. He's slowing down.

"Michael?" She asks, questioningly.

He doesn't answer her, he merely brushes back hair out of her eyes and takes her arm pulling her over to a nearby room which—she throws a careless thought of thanks to some nameless god—has a bed.

He lays her down softly. He kisses her softly, pulling off her pants, and she's still working off his.

In short order he's naked, and all she's wearing is her underwear and bra.

He leaves a trail of kisses—starting at her lips, and making his way downward. He's driving her crazy, and going slow as hell, she touches his hand and he looks up at her face. She's begging with her eyes to hurry up. She's been lonely for a long time, and no one has ever make her feel like this, not like Michael.

He smiles slightly, and she realizes he's going to do whatever he wants anyway.

He goes back to kissing her, he gets down to her belly button and she moans. She feels his hands on her, and all she wants is more, more, more.

His right hand goes down to her panties, and squeezes her through them.

She moans. "Michael," she practically begs.

He looks up at her, giving her a dark look. He leans down and kisses her. His fingers slide under the slightness of her underwear and she breathes heavily.

She's already wet, and she can practically feel his smile as he slides a finger up and down her slit.

He wants this to be slow and exquisitely painful.

She reaches down, grabbing him in her hand, squeezing in a warning. He needs to hurry up, or she's going to get vengeful.

He pokes a finger into her, swirling around inside of her as she gasps. It's been a long time.

She feels him slide another finger inside of her pussy and start to rub her clitoris with what feels like his thumb. She quickly orgasms, feeling waves of pleasure convulse her body as he rubs at her.

As she comes down from the orgasm, she feels him slide back up on top of her, and he kisses her on the forehead softly. His head moves slightly and he whispers into her ear, "Are you sure?"

She smirks, and quickly rolls on top of him, surprising him. She kisses him fast and hard, lowering her head to his cock.

He grunts in surprise before she even touches him. She takes him in her mouth slowly and he gasps.

"Nikita—"

She pulls back a little, sliding her tongue around the tip.

At that he grunts, grabbing Nikita and pulling her off of him, and sliding over so that she's under him again. "Not time for that, Niki."

He kisses her lips softly, but pulls away roughly.

His hand goes back down to her pussy, sliding around inside of her. "Ready?"

"Always," Nikita smiles.

He rips her panties to shreds, and his cock goes right up to her entrance. He looks down at her, waiting until he meets her eyes before he pushes his length into her.

She gasps and he hisses as he feels her widen to accept all of him. She takes him easily to the hilt—and there's a lot of him, but she's so very, very wet and ready for him.

He stops, letting them both adjust to this. They've never done this before, and it feels almost magical.

Michael begins to move within her, slowly at first—and it's driving Nikita to the edge, but she can't quite transcend the cliff. She starts to move under him, and he moves faster and faster—she can feel herself exploding in the most intense orgasm of her life.

She clenches around him—which sends him to the edge, and he comes inside of her.

For a brief moment neither one of them know what to do, but their bodies slow down and they stop, just staring into each other's eyes.

He's still inside of her, but he decides to get off her before he falls on top of her.

He rolls off to the side and they both stare up at the ceiling.

"I—"

"Shh—"

The turn to face each other on their sides, staring again into each other's eyes, as if somehow they'll find some sort of answers in them. Because what they just did cannot be undone, and they wouldn't want to undo it even if they could—but maybe it'll be harder now to move on, to keep living as if they don't need each other, because they do.

Michael's hand slides up to cup Nikita's face, and he wipes away a tear that starts to bead up near her eye with his thumb. "Nikita—"

"This is what happens, Michael, when you change things."

Michael's face shutters, because he's afraid of what comes next, he's afraid of what she'll say—no matter what it is.

"You always let me go, but this time you didn't."

Michael sees that Nikita isn't sure if she's happy or unhappy about this turn of events—because there's too much water under the bridge, it's practically flooding it, it's nearly unrecognizable.

Maybe it's time to build a new bridge, he thinks.

"I love you," he says simply and honestly.

"I know," Nikita says, a sad smile overtaking her features, "I've always known." Nikita's left hand goes up to cover his hand that's still cupping her face. "I love you too."

His eyes close, and he enjoys the moment, because he knows that as soon as this is over, as soon as their break from reality is over, this is over too. It'll never happen again, he assures himself.

XXXX

They're silent as they put their clothes back on—minus Nikita's underwear, which have been destroyed beyond reparation, but she stuffs them into her pocket anyway.

They stare at each other, fully clothed. The moment is already over. He won't kiss her goodbye, but he also won't attack her.

"I'm sorry." Nikita says.

He looks at her in surprise. "For this?"

"For everything else, Michael." The look she gives him makes him realize that she's hiding something.

"Nikita?"

"I just wanted to keep you safe." Nikita says.

Michael feels his heart drop. "You tricked me."

She says without shame, "You're the one who came, you're the one who didn't let me go."

He looks at her, and feels hurt bubble up within him, but he understands. He does.

"Goodbye, Nikita."

She was afraid of this, afraid that in destroying Division she would lose Michael too.

XXXX

Michael drives back slowly, because he knows that what awaits him won't be easy to see.

He stops a little way away, not wanting to get caught. He sees that Division was on fire, burning. He sees his recruits are fine. He sees Percy and so many others in handcuffs.

He knows it's over now.

And Nikita saved him.

He almost hates her for it.

XXXXXX

Parts two and three will be up soon. Review?