~ Family ~

"Things could have been different," said Michael.

"Things will be," said Nikita. She turned away from him, her eyes full of hurt, wishing for the-could-have-beens, the almosts, the maybes…

Michael stopped her from turning away from him and kissed her. Pulled her face to his and held her tight. He didn't want to let go. Not now. Not ever. Their breath intermingled as he pushed her against the wall, ran his hands up her back, feeling every inch of her, pulling her as close as possible, as she stretched her legs around his waist, and his breath hitched—

They fell to the bed together, no thoughts, just need, it was like it should have been, it was like punishment the waiting, and here they were but they could never get close enough…it had been so long—

"Michael," Nikita gasped in his ear as his naked lips fell to her neck, traced over the bareness of her thigh, her hip, and the heat he felt—let it burn him—

"I know," he said, as he pulled her close, slipped inside of her. They were flesh into one flesh and Nikita cried out—

When it happened, when it happened—

Nikita saw Michael's face, his face smiling down at hers…

She woke up smiling and it was like the sun had stretched out its arms to warm her bare skin. She rolled over with a groan, but the bed was empty.

"Good morning," said Michael. He was sitting at her computer, his hair unkempt, the front of his shirt was unbuttoned.

"So they say," said Nikita, she pulled the sheets up to her chest, feeling chilled. "So what now?"

"I was thinking of ordering in. I don't know," he glanced around the space she had called her home for the past couple of years, his mouth twitched. "Does this place have a kitchen?"

Nikita smiled. "Come here."

"Are you cold?" he said, even as he crawled into the space beside her and she snuggled in close to his chest.

"This is nice you know, this, being together."

"Yeah. But you know it can't-"

"I know. Just let me enjoy this."

He sighed, and she felt his arms tighten around her. "What are you going to do about Alex?" she asked him.

She could hear the hum of her computer, the small beep-beep-beep of the monitor on the desk. The tick-tick of the register, struggling to heat such a cavernous room.

"Nothing," said Michael. "The less she knows, the safer it will be for her."

"So we won't tell her what happened, here, between us, I mean."

"No. I'll keep her safe from Percy-"

"I'd appreciate that."

"And we'll stop Division together."

"Good." Nikita pulled out of his embrace and sat up. She couldn't see the intensity of his eyes as he watched her, as his eyes traced the smoothness of the curve of her back as she stretched—

He reached out and grasped her around the waist and pulled her back into his arms. She laughed a laugh that tickled as he rolled her beneath him and kissed her hard on the mouth as his hand traced over her breast and down the sensitive skin of her waist—

Footsteps came thundering quickly down the stairs and Alex's voice was suddenly everywhere in the room. "Nikita it's about Nathan—I couldn't—what the-?"

They separated in gasp and tangle of arms as Nikita struggled to pull the sheet up to her chest as Michael flew off the bed and nearly fell over in the process. He stood in front of the bed, in front of Nikita. His shirt was still open, so he folded his arms across his chest.

"Alex," he said.

Alex didn't know whether to laugh, cry or smile. She bit back a smile as Michael cleared his throat. He shot a look at Nikita, disgruntled. Nikita couldn't help it, she started to laugh.

Alex emulated her teacher's tough stance and folded her arms across her chest, but her hip dipped to the side as she said, "I knew there was something between you! And this time I'm not dreaming!"

This seemed to catch Michael off guard. "What?"

"Nikita's like a cancer you said-"

Nikita was in the process of reaching for her robe on the floor behind Michael. "It's not like Alex hasn't seen me naked before Michael—you called me a what?"

Michael turned to Nikita who was now wrapped in her robe. There was a tortured expression on his face and Nikita couldn't help but laugh again as she reached up and held his face in her hand, traced the crinkles she found beneath his eyes. "What's the matter?"

Alex held her breath as she watched them. "And you want to tell her what, now?" said Michael, his voice a sleepy, smoky rumble.

"It's not like it's a great mystery," said Alex. "You're not going to tell Percy, are you?" She grimaced as she looked over at Nikita, and gestured toward Michael. "Is he mad?"

"Furious," grunted Michael, but he pulled away from Nikita as he tucked his shirt partially into his pants.

"No," said Nikita with a brief smile, but Alex thought she heard her mumble, "With you, at least…"

Michael sighed. He scrubbed his hands over his face. "I'll get us some coffee." He said without looking at anyone as he strode across the room.

"Should I leave?" said Alex, quietly.

"No," said Nikita and she smiled and stepped towards Alex and wrapped her in a hug.

"I'm so happy for you," said Alex, with something close to a whimper.

"Shh," said Nikita. "I'm just glad you're safe."

From the doorway of the room, Michael paused as he buttoned up his shirt as he watched the two women hug, oblivious to him as he looked around on the floor in the dimness for his shoes. They held each other in a tight embrace and then pulled away, and studied each others expressions, like sisters, who'd been away from each other for a long, long time.

He felt a clinch in his stomach, as memories from the past- his wife- his family- his child seemed to flit briefly to the surface, and then away, and in their place was something warm and soothing and whole, a coal smoldering there, warm and solid and there it would stay, for a long, long time.

In his mind came the thought that he might have found something that he wasn't even looking for.

He descended the stairs and down to the front door, without even looking at his feet. Just felt the stairs pass beneath him.

Things sometimes come before they're truly gone. Change is what happens when you least expect it.

He stepped out into the sunlight, felt the cool air of DC wash over him, taxi horns and sirens in the cool morning air. He turned up the sidewalk.

You can't help who you love. Family has many names and many forms.

He passed an old woman in rags with white hair and sun spots over a wrinkled face, picking cans out of the nearest trash can. She smiled and nodded at him and the sun glinted off the two aluminum cans she held in both hands.

Could this be one of them?