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Date Posted: 22:50:48 05/03/02 Fri
Author: Repost Fairy
Author Host/IP: 64.193.19.25
Subject: Gypsies and Criminals - 4b - REWRITE
In reply to: KT 's message, "Gypsies and Criminals" on 22:11:54 05/03/02 Fri

Gypsies and Criminals - Part 4b - REWRITE
By KT
Copyright April, 2002


The remainder of the summer flew by. Nikita had returned to the park several times, hoping to see Mira again, but the woman was nowhere to be found. She was so lonely for Michael after that strange day out, that she immersed herself in work up to her eyeballs. She continued to be friendly and accessible to her operatives, but was not compelled to seek the company of her cronies. She missed her time with Walter, but talking to him just brought up more memories... distracting her from work, making her heart and her body ache with longing.

Kate Quinn was presently her default second-in-command. They had a good working rapport, but never really developed any kind of friendship or personal closeness. Kate was not the sort to externalize her emotions except when angry. She had a biting sarcasm that allayed any attempt by anyone to get close. Sometimes Nikita thought they could switch positions with no problem.

But in her heart Nikita knew that as Operations she had been able to do what no one before her had done... created mission profiles that facilitated the preservation of both innocents and operatives. There was still a lot of sacrifice, but only when absolutely necessary. Abeyance, unfortunately, continued to serve a purpose.

But the overall result was what she had always thought it would be: operatives were much more inclined to complete their missions and work beyond their potential, knowing that they were being protected as much as possible, and that their survival was considered a valuable asset to the Section.

September came, and with the changing season, Nikita began to feel more restless than ever, as if she wanted to leave her body and disappear altogether, become completely anonymous, unrecognizable. Perhaps there was another way. An idea began to grow in her mind, one that would not leave her alone, that became increasingly powerful as the days went by.

"I don't want you to change again."

Michael's tender words on the boat, after their initial escape from Section, had made her smile as his lips soothed the scars above her eyes. She was glad to get her face back then. Now, Dr. Kraft's implant technology could well be her ace-in-the-hole, her way out of this life of imprisonment.

A part of her wanted to stay, to continue to fulfill the commitment she had made to her father, but her soul cried out daily for freedom. Nikita felt a sudden pang. If she left the Section, she would be leaving the only place where Michael knew to find her. Choosing between freedom and Michael had definitely not gotten any easier with the passing of time.

With an ironic sigh, she contemplated. Mira's words had become like a chant, giving her incentive to go on, taking one day at a time. "When the time is right..." Yes... for now, her decision would be to stay on as Operations and to remain open to the possibilities for the next phase of her life. She would have to trust in time.

"We have to be stronger than them."

That single sentence had sustained her for two years. Michael's strength had become hers. She owned it, and she would use it, now more than ever. Time seemed to be taking on a rhythm all its own, catapulting her towards the future, its dark uncertainties fading in the light of hope.

She would do this. She would stay, wait, plan, prepare...

* * * * * * * *

Walter was worried. Nikita's position as Operations was looking frighteningly like Paul Wolfe's. She was way too self-contained for his taste. Of course, she had to be protected, but never seeing the light of day in over two months seemed a bit over the top. He strolled into the perch unbidden. It was more accessible than it used to be, and now had a desk, and a chair for visitors. He sat.

"Hey."

Nikita looked up from her monitor. Her eyes softened. "Hey yourself."

His ardent resolve to chew her out and send her packing fizzled out as he observed the lines about her brow, and the resigned carriage of her shoulders.

"What's up? You look..."

She pursed her lips, finishing for him. "Preoccupied?"

Walter hesitated. He had always told her the truth. Why stop now?

"No... I was about to say 'tired'. When are you gonna take some personal time? 'All work and no play'... well, you know what they say. Your edges are looking kinda brittle, if you ask me."

Nikita sat back. Just like Walter to lay his cards on the table. She decided to play his game.

"Well, who asked you?" A ghost of a smile played around her mouth as she lightened up a bit.

Relief welled up at her subtle display of humor, and he leaned back, clasping his hands over his stomach. "I asked me."

"So?" Nikita was starting to enjoy their debate. "Since when are you my babysitter?"

Walter's expression changed to mock disgust. "Well, someone has to do it!" He turned serious. "I just happen to care about you."

Nikita's heart fluttered at his touching declaration of concern. She knew she owed him.

"Look Walter. I know I've been distant..."

He cleared his throat roughly. "I'll say..."

"...but I have a lot to deal with right now."

Things were definitely heating up. The Collective, which had gone deep underground after the death of her father, was resurfacing, stronger than before. Section's intel had confirmed that the new Collective had picked up remnants of Crystal Sky, Black Storm, and Red Cell, among others. They now had operatives in every crevice of the world, and were recruiting aggressively.

In anticipation of increasing frequency of terrorist attacks, Nikita had expanded Section One's own recruitment program, and new operatives were in intensive training as a result. Jasmine, Trent, Claire, and Patrick - he had successfully intimidated everyone into giving up calling him "Darwin"... well, everyone except Jasmine - the number one team over the past two years, had turned Section Eight into an operative factory. Though no one of them singly could match Madeline's or Michael's psychological acumen, as a group they were exceptional.

Walter was not fooled as he watched the thoughts fly over Nikita's face. "Yeah? So? Don't we all?" He pulled the chair forward, resting his forearms on her desk. "If I didn't know better..." He held her glance, his eyes narrowing. "There's something you're not telling me."

Nikita knew he was baiting her. "Walter, you know what's going on with the Collective. You know I can't let my guard down right now. People's lives are at stake here, and I'm responsible. You of all people should..."

"I know, I know, but..." He gave her another penetrating look. "Can I give you a piece of advice?"

"If I say no, I'm sure you'll give it to me anyway."

"Damn straight. Sugar, you can't take care of others if you don't take care of yourself."

Nikita was silent. He was right, of course. But there was no way she could take time off right now.

Walter could see her resolve harden, and drew a sigh. He wished he could make things easier. What was that old native saying... "walk a mile in someone else's shoes"? He let their quiet moment play out, his heart sore. If only there was someone as strong as she for her to lean on... He stood to leave.

"Promise me you'll at least try."

She smiled at him then. "I promise. Thanks Walter."

He stopped walking and turned at her emotional response. "You're welcome. Any time." He exited the perch, his gravelly voice fading. "'Bye Sugar."

Nikita turned back to her monitor. She would try. Later.

* * * * * * * *

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