Disclaimer: I sadly don't own any of the Nikita characters. :'(

Chapter 1: A Winning Defeat

Five Division guards stalked towards their target stealthily, their guns drawn and raised. With each step towards the rouge, the men only dug deeper graves for themselves. Nikita wasn't one who could be killed easily and she sure wasn't going down under the hands of the block heads and their shaky weapons. Although they were quiet, Nikita knew they were coming the minute they rounded the corner. She delivered one last punch to the guard she was already fighting, sending his bloody-nosed face to the ground.

The white marble floors of the corridor Nikita was stuck in had been freshly waxed before her attack, so with every move her heels slid and squealed in protest to the slick surface. Catching herself for about the millionth time, the powerful woman spun around to meet the first Division guard, her fist colliding with his face. He shrunk back in surprise, only to be replaced by another idiot in black. He put pressure against the trigger his finger was poised on and Nikita elegantly ducked out of the way before being rained with black bullets. She dove for the man's thick boots, sliding along on her stomach easily to knock his feet clean out from under him. She was out of the way and on her feet before he hit the ground. A thick-gloved hand collided with the back of Nikita's head, sending her toppling forward with a grunt. Snarling under her breath, Nikita jolted around with rage filled eyes and brought her knee up to meet the Division agent where it counted most. The move wasn't the best trick in the book, but it got the job done every time.

Nikita snatched the gun from the man's hands and turned the automatic on its owner, shooting him straight through the forehead. The rouge turned the weapon on her other opponents and took out two more before running out of ammo. "Shoot!" she growled, changing her strategy without really thinking about it. A bulky man came at her full speed, braced to take the petite woman out just by slamming into her and crushing her under his body. She brought the heavy gun back and swung it forward again, the metal making a 'clang' against the guy's temple. He went limp immediately and slouched to the ground. Nikita threw the automatic gun down as hard as she could, the metal bending and grinding as is met the cold marble.

"Nikita!" she heard a familiar voice shout from behind. Michael had found her, finally. She thought his cry was out of relief, but realized how wrong she was when she spun around to find the barrel of a gun pointed at her forehead. Before the last Division guard could pull the trigger though, Michael sent lead bullets through his chest and head. Letting out a huge gust of air, Nikita embraced her lover's battered form.

"You alright?" he asked, his voice extra husky from exhaustion. His breath tickled Nikita's ear as he embraced her in a quick but meaningful hug.

"Fine," Nikita heaved, trying to catch her breath. "You?" she added, pulling back to run a hand over Michael's bloody features. As she asked, a Division agent that she failed to shoot started to wake up, grunting and moaning all the while. Michael merely lifted his gun and ended the man's life with one shot. Sticking the weapon back in its hoister on his belt, Michael turned back to Nikita.

"Much better now," he smirked, a grin tugging at his split lips. He pulled Nikita in for a chaste kiss, happy that he could hold his woman again. When they'd last parted neither knew if they'd get to embrace one another again.

"Hey guys…I hate to break up your love fest, but more guards are closing in on your position," Birkhoff yelled into the agents' ear devices, causing both to wince.

"Hurry, go!" Michael yelled, pushing Nikita's skinny form around and forward. They both took off at a fast run, their shoes pounding loudly against the flooring. Gunshots rang from behind them as they rounded the corridor's far corner, Michael sending a few bullets back before jumping into the elevator with Nikita.

"Close!" Michael snarled, shoving at the 'up' button repeatedly. Division guards appeared as the doors began to close, bullets clearing through the heavy metal doors. Nikita withdrew her gun and shot lead back at them, a few of the bodies collapsing on a dime. The doors shut completely then, allowing the couple to catch their breath once more.

"Birkhoff, where is Amanda?" Michael coughed into the com while wiping sweat from his hairline. The pause that followed left the agents holding their breath, but then Seymour spoke up.

"The witch is in her lair as usual, heavily guarded I might add. Use caution." Birkhoff's voice was hoarse as he spoke, the anticipation killing him. He was back at the house using ShadowNet to direct everyone.

"How are Alex and Owen?" Nikita chipped in, hoping the two were alright.

"Alex is taking care of some guards and Owen is," Birkhoff paused to get a hold of the huge grin smothering his face, "taking care of Percy. By the way, Michael, Owen wants to make sure you're still alright with him finishing off the moron for good. He knows you have your history and scores to settle as well."

"As long as he's dead, I'm fine with it. I'm not leaving Nikki," Michael confirmed, giving Nikita a light squeeze on the shoulder. She smiled up at Michael and thanked him with her eyes. Michael only looked in their brown depths for a second before he knew how grateful she really was. Birkhoff went silent on the line then, obviously giving Owen the okay.

As the elevator neared its destination, Nikita turned to Michael and cupped his hands in hers'. "Whatever happens, just know that I love you. If you weren't here, none of this would be worth it," the young woman stated, bringing Michael's rough hands up to kiss them gently.

Hazel met liquid brown as the couple just stared at one another. "And this wouldn't even be happening if it weren't for you. Thanks to your knowledge of escaping this hell hole, you got us inside Division without a scratch," Michael chuckled.

"Guess going rogue had its advantages," Nikita laughed, looking down at their knit hands. The doors of the elevator binged and opened, revealing an eerily silent hallway.

"Here we go..." Nikita breathed sharply, drawing her gun once more and stepping out. The temperature was much colder up here and left goose bumps on the skin of the tense agents. Nikita found those three words a bit ironic. She'd stated them before beginning her onslaught against the secret agency, and now she spoke them again as Division neared its end.

Michael and Nikita picked up their pace, but remained quiet and hidden from the cameras by instinct, although Birkhoff had disabled them hours ago. Rounding a corner, Nikita and Michael were forced back by more bullets.

"Told you they were armed," Birkhoff muttered into their ears.

"Yeah, we got that!" Nikita growled, jolting back around the corner to let a few rounds go. She ducked back around and let Michael shoot as she reloaded. She heard the distinct thump of a body hitting the floor as Michael continued to send bullets through the short distance to the guards. Behind them, heavily coded and locked, stood the door to Division's demise.

Empty shells rolled around Nikita's heels as she clicked her gun closed again. Michael fell back just as Nikita took a deep breath, paused, and then bolted around the wall towards the guards.

"Nikita, stop!" she heard Michael yell in a panic, his voice strained and filled with emotion. She had to do this though, for herself and for those she loved. She rained bullets on the guards, taking them out one by one. Bullets shot by her head at amazing speed, missing her by mere inches. She pulled the trigger nonstop until there were no bullets left for the remaining three guards. Never faltering a step, Nikita threw her gun to connect with a guard's head and withdrew her knife, sending the blade into a spiral. It lodged itself into the heart of the closest operative before the woman had a chance to move.

Nikita entered hand-to-hand combat with the remaining two and clocked one in the cheek before hearing; "Get down!" from Michael. She obliged quickly and shoved herself against the floor, the cold tile hitting her like a wave of ice water. A grenade flew over her head and against the door, where it exploded and sent shards of metals through the dusty air. A few stray pieces scraped her arms, but Nikita got lucky compared to the unsuspecting guards. They were dead, metal lodged through their armor and skin.

She felt the comforting hand of Michael as he darted over and slid to a stop, pulling Nikita up onto her feet. "What were you thinking? You could have gotten yourself killed and you're so close!" he spat, Nikita wincing at his words.

"Well, I didn't. Come on," Nikita stated, ripping her arm from his grip. Her blood remained on his hands and he looked back up after his love with worry.

"Nikita, how bad did the shards of metal hit you?" Michael breathed, gripping her arm gently again.

"Michael, it's fine. Come on," she repeated, creeping into the dusty room. Michael wasted no time in following behind, afraid he'd lose site of Nikki in all the wreckage.

Inside the office Michael and Nikita had witnessed so many times, they found an amused Amanda behind the smooth wooden desk. Paperwork was spewed around the room and a few sheets remained in the desk, but the order Amanda had kept everything in was ruined.

"Hello Michael, Nikita. I was wondering when you two would show," the older woman stated nonchalantly. She seemed un-phased by Michael's weapon pointed at her chest.

"Shut up Amanda. I don't give a crap what you were wondering. All I care about is your illusive ass dead and by my hands," Nikita snarled with a rage-littered tone.

The Division honcho gave Nikita a small shrug, tapping her nails against the fine markings of her desk. "I'm just trying to make small talk Nikita. Don't you want to hear what I have to say before you kill me?" Amanda asked innocently, twirling a piece of hair around her finger as if nothing of importance was occurring.

Nikita simply glared at the woman she despised with every fiber of her being. The pain Amanda had caused her during the sessions while still under the rule of Division had left Nikita scarred, mentally and emotionally. Back when Amanda had taken Birkhoff and tortured him; that had been the very last straw. She had vowed to get revenge for her nerdy friend, and she was definitely about to get it.

Amanda kept her nails drumming against the desk as she spoke again. "You were my most prized agent Nikita. I saw so much potential in you as a recruit, especially when you took a liking to all the dresses and heels I put you in. I even bragged about you Nikita, stating everyday that there would never be another as dedicated, and good as you. And I was right; there has yet to be someone to defeat you. Even Michael hasn't been able to tame you thanks to his hormones," Amanda chuckled, glancing at Michael's tense posture. The barrel of his gun remained aimed at her.

"I hate to admit it, but I never thought there would be someone to overrule you. Now though, I'm starting to doubt myself. You see, I honestly hoped this day would come. You here and Michael here to watch... it's too good to be true."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Nikita spat, her forehead creased with anger and so many more emotions.

"I realized there is someone out there who can defeat you. Although that person is about to die as well, she is going to cherish the fact that she brought down Division's greatest assassin for eternity," Amanda finished. With that said, the deadly woman brought her finger down on a hidden button that had been beside her fingers the whole time. A gun mounted on the wall in the corner of the office went off, sending echoes throughout the destroyed halls.

Alex and Owen jolted to a stop as they rounded the corner after exiting the elevator, their eyes wide with shock. Their fears were confirmed when a shout of anger and disbelieve vibrated through the tense air, five distinct gunshots following. Alex gained her footing again first and took off full speed, shooting through the office door with Owen on her tail.

"No!" Alex cried, covering her mouth with her bruised hands. Owen stopped behind her, uncontrollable tears welling up in his blue eyes.

There, lying motionless and cold in Michael's strong arms, was the greatest assassin Division had ever known.

Well, that's all for now. What did you all think? Good, bad, so-so? Your reviews will help me a lot! The sooner you review, the sooner I add the next chapter. Thanks everyone! :)