Just Moments

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Nikita.

Comments: These will be short snap-shots of moments during Season 1. No particular order, just scenes that I wish had gone on a little longer, or moments that I think could have happened.

Finally Captured

He'd known this mission wasn't going to end well as soon as he'd learned that Alex was being activated early. There was something distinctly ominous in Amanda's watchfulness over her that had Michael's danger senses tingling.

And then, on top of everything else, Birkhoff found Nikita's shell code.

Michael had tried to divert Percy's attention, he'd tried to stall the mission, and most of all he'd tried really hard not to speculate on who Nikita's mole was.

He told himself that he'd tried to halt the mission for Alex's sake; that a manhunt for Nikita during her first op would put her in terrible danger, but he couldn't fool himself.

He'd done it to protect Nikita.

It didn't seem to matter that he was supposed to be furious with her for stopping him from getting Kasim. It also didn't seem to matter that he wasn't at all sure he could trust her anymore – or if he ever should have.

His instinct to protect her was a strong as ever.

So when Alex's mission all went pear-shaped and Nikita had grabbed the girl, his first thought wasn't for the safety of his agent, but fear that finally this time Nikita had bitten off more than she could chew.

"Michael, over here," one of his men called to him, and even though he'd just been shot mere minutes ago he limped over as quickly as he could, trying to still the pounding in his heart of what would happen to her should any of his agents get to Nikita before he did.

The door to the shed was shoved open and Michael yelled "Hold your fire!", putting a hand on the man in front of him in order to still any shots.

Nikita was on the ground and Alex was standing over her, viciously kicking her.

Thom, newly minted agent though he was, ran forwards and pulled Alex away from her, wrapping the girl in his arms as she stared in horror at the woman beneath her. Michael winced involuntarily, both at the pain in his leg from his using it when he shouldn't be, and at the sight of Alex kicking a defenseless woman – something he hadn't believed her to be capable of.

He looked down as well.

Nikita's dark eyes stared fixedly at his feet, refusing to glance up at his face. She looked helpless and so tiny, lying on the ground before him.

"Prepare to ex-fil," Michael told his agents, his face a blank mask. "We're bringing her in."

The man next to him zapped Nikita, and Michael watched as she arched her back in sudden, blinding pain, a slight groan of pain passing between her lips involuntarily, before she went still.

Michael glanced once more at Alex, unable to suppress the sudden flare of anger that rose up within him at the thought that this girl had been the one to get Nikita captured. He told himself that Alex was merely doing her duty and that she had been right to stop Nikita, that Nikita was dangerous and untrustworthy. He began to believe his own rhetoric until he saw the man next to him reach out to grab Nikita.

"Stop," he snapped at the man. "I've got her.

The man looked confused. "But sir, your leg," he protested.

"I said, I've got her." Michael's voice booked no argument, and the man backed off as Michael awkwardly bent down and pulled Nikita into his arms. Her head lolled back until he hoisted her up until she rested comfortably on his shoulder. He could feel the faint beating of her heart.

Another man ordered the truck to be brought up before the house, as Thom hustled Alex outside and Michael began to make his slow, halting way down the hill, Nikita still held tight to him.

Refusing to relinquish Nikita to anyone else, his men hoisted him up into the back of the truck. Michael's pants leg was now soaked with blood, and the leg itself was throbbing terribly as he slid along the bench until he was leaning against the wall of the truck. His men, Alex and Thom filed in after him.

The ride back to Division was long. The men soon forgot about him and Alex refused to look at Nikita, immersing herself instead in a whispered conversation with Thom.

Michael closed his eyes and shifted Nikita until her head fit under his chin and he could breathe in the scent of her hair.

He swallowed convulsively.

He knew what would happen to her at Division; she would be tortured and then she would be killed.

There was nothing he could do to stop it, nothing he thought he should do to stop it. The woman in his arms was a threat to Division and to the country: she had to be stopped. But there was this utterly sick feeling at the bottom of his stomach and he couldn't still the shaking of his hands as they held Nikita's slight body to him.

He was going to have to watch her die.

They were almost to Division when Michael felt Nikita awaken. She jerked infinitesimally, as though she were about to struggle, before she suddenly stilled and he knew that she had recognized the fact that he was the one holding her.

He felt her take several deep breaths to calm herself and then she relaxed back into his embrace, her face turning just the slightest bit so she could bury it in his shirt. His arms reflexively closed tighter around her.

None of the others noticed that she was awake, or when she closed her one of her fists tightly around the fabric of his coat.

Michael knew she was scared, and knew also that she would never admit it.

He also knew that they were both pretending. She was pretending that he hadn't noticed her awake, and he was pretending that she hadn't awoken.

Both denying what would happen when the truck stopped.

And then they had arrived and she pretended to awaken before she was led off towards the elevators between several huge guards, her hands tied behind her and her face set resolutely in front of her.

Michael had no idea how he would face her, no idea how he would live with her final glance towards him, but he needn't have worried.

She never looked back.