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Author of 10 Stories |
Notes: I found this on one of my old computers earlier this month. I wrote it a good four to five years ago, so much of it is based on the romantic ideologies of a fourteen-year-old. Still, if one is looking for a bit of holiday fluff, I've taken the time to go over it and update it a bit.
Also, I'm all about constructive criticism/feedback, so if you have the time, I'd greatly appreciate your thoughts.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of USA's characters, and sincerely wish they would bring this show back, if only in reruns. But I digress.
It was December 23rd, and she’d just gotten back from a mission in Siberia. She’d spent two very long weeks surrounded by snow, ice, and men carrying machine guns. Since she hadn’t been home, she hadn’t done any of her Christmas shopping or decorated the apartment. It didn’t seem like Christmas, that was for sure.
She took a sip of her hot cocoa, turning off the TV; Carol for Another Christmas had long since finished. She got up and went to the french doors leading to her balcony and watched the snow fall. Another Christmas come and gone, she thought sadly. She didn’t have time to make it special for her friends, let alone herself. Section had made sure of that. Even Walter and Birkoff weren’t in their usual Christmas spirits. Brikoff had a lot on his plate at the moment, as did everyone else. Operatives were disappearing at an alarming rate. They didn’t know who was responsible, but Operations had made it priority. Birkoff hadn’t left his post for nearly least 72 hours, and Nikita was worried about him. She’d tried to talk to Michael about it, but he’d brushed her off, saying that Birkoff just wanted to make sure no one else was compromised. She had been surprised when offered the week off. Actually, it had seemed more like Madeline was ordering her to stay away, but Nikita supposed that’s just the way she was. And she was fine with it.
She glanced at her watch and saw that it was 9 o’clock - still early. Pulling on her boots, she grabbed her coat and mittens and headed across the street to the park. She watched enviously as a man and woman wandered past, arms entwined and looking quite content.
If only Michael were here, she thought, shoving her hands deeper into her pockets and raised her face to the sky, letting a few flakes fall on her tongue.
“What are you doing?” came a voice from behind her. She turned to see a little girl staring up at her.
“Catching snowflakes,” Nikita answered, glancing around to see if the girl’s parents where following her.
“Why?” came the reply.
Nikita hunkered down in front of the girl and smiled. “Because it’s fun,” she told her. “Go on. Give it a try.”
The small child did as she was told, and leaned her head back. She giggled as one flake landed lightly on the tip of her nose.
“Where are your parents?” Nikita asked her, still looking around for anyone who looked like they could be the girl’s family.
The child shrugged. “I don’t know. They said they were going to go get me something to eat, but they didn’t come home.”
Nikita felt her heart plummet. What kind of parents fed their child to the wolves? Left them in the middle of winter to fend for themselves?
My own, she reminded herself sadly.
“How long ago was that?” Nikita asked her, tugging off her hat and pulling it snuggly down over the girl’s ears.
“A long time ago,” she said, shivering slightly.
It was at that moment that Nikita noticed the girl wasn’t wearing a jacket, only a well-worn brown sweater and a knee-length red dress that looked much to small.
It’s parents like hers that make me do my job, she thought furiously.
Deciding that she couldn’t possibly leave the girl alone on this cold night, she smiled, and offered the child her gloves as well, which she gladly excepted. She looked like she could do with a decent meal and a bath as well.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” Nikita asked.
“Maggie,” the girl said, giving her a toothless grin. “I’m 5.” She held up four fingers.
Nikita laughed. “My name is Nikita. What do you say I take you to my house and we’ll get you something to eat, okay?”
Maggie didn’t hesitate, and took Nikita’s outstretched hand and asked, “Where do you live?”
Nikita smiled down at her and pointed. “Right there,” she said. “Across the street in that apartment building.” She squeezed Maggie’s hand tightly, and the two headed off towards warmth, and a large dinner for two.
“Hey,” she called, tossing her keys on the counter and lifting Maggie onto one of the stools that teetered next to the breakfast bar.
“Hi,” Michael said, turning to give her a small smile, surprised to see another person in the room. Though curious, he said nothing, and gave the child a genuine smile. “Hello,” he said, offering his hand to her.
Nikita watched the girl stare with wide eyes up at Michael, then shyly shake his hand.
“Hi,” she whispered.
“Maggie, this is my... friend, Michael,” Nikita said, making introductions. “Michael, this is Maggie.”
“Bonjour,” Michael said with another small smile. Nikita was shocked, though she said nothing.
Turning to Michael she said, “Do you think you could whip up something to eat?” giving a pointed look at Maggie. “I’m going to get her cleaned up.”
Michael nodded, and went to the cupboards, already absorbed in his appointed task.
Nikita took Maggie’s hand and led her down a small hallway to the bathroom and started the water, pulling out a few towels. “I’ll let you wash up,” she said, turning off the water, and taking the clothes the girl modestly handed her. “Just call when you’re done.”
Nodding, Maggie stepped into the tub and immediately busied herself with testing all of Nikita’s soaps and lotions which sat on small shelves around it.
Nikita smiled to herself and closed the door, putting the clothes in the washer which was just outside the door. Going back into the kitchen, she joined Michael at the counter and smiled.
“Homemade pizza? You never struck me as the pizza type, Michael,” she teased.
“Adam liked pizza,” Michael said matter-of-factly, pouring sauce onto the dough. “Are you going to tell me why she’s here?”
Nikita sighed. “I didn’t plan on it, that’s for sure,” she said, pulling herself up to sit on the counter behind him. “I went for a walk in the park, and she just came up to me and asked what I was doing.” She paused. “She reminded me of myself at Christmas when I was little,” she said softly, staring at the floor. “Her parents left her, and she had nowhere to go. So I brought her home.” She looked over at Michael, who was watching her closely.
“I like her,” he said after a minute, and gave her a small smile before turning back to his work.
After twenty minutes, Nikita heard her name being called, and opened the door to the bathroom. The change was stupendous. Though her hair had looked brown earlier, Nikita now saw that it had, in fact, been merely dirty, and was actually the same shade of blonde as her own, though curly, not strait. Her eyes were hazel, and sparkled with life.
“All done?” she asked, handing the child clean underwear and one of her own white blouses which could act as a nightgown for one night.
“I’m washing your clothes,” Nikita explained as she towel-dried Maggie’s soft curls. “We’ll go shopping tomorrow and get you some new ones, okay?”
“Really? Shopping? In a real store?” Maggie exclaimed, sporting another toothless grin.
“Really,” Nikita assured her. “Come on. Michael made you a pizza, and I think you look pretty hungry.”
“I am,” Maggie confirmed, and ran out to the kitchen where Michael handed her a plate and two slices of pizza, along with a glass of milk.
Nikita leaned against the wall and watched the exchange, then came in to join them. Noticing that Maggie couldn’t reach the stool by herself, Nikita lifted the girl up and set her on top of one, then set her food down in front of her. “Eat up,” she said with a smile, then helped herself to a piece as well.
An hour passed, and Nikita noticed the girl’s eyes were beginning to droop. “Come on, sweetie,” she murmured, cradling the little girl in her ams and carrying her up the stairs to her bedroom. “Sleep tight.” She turned off the light, and was about to leave, when a small voice stopped her.
“Thanks, ‘Kita,” Maggie mumbled against the pillow.
Nikita swallowed, hearing Michael’s pet name for her, then smiled slightly. “Your welcome, sugar,” she said, using Walter’s own pet name for her. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
She went back to the kitchen where Michael was busy cleaning off the counter. “Here, I’ll finish,” she offered, tugging lightly on the plate he was carrying.
Michael shrugged, and went over to the stereo to turn on some soft Christmas music. Nikita hummed along to Silent Night as she piled dishes into the dishwasher, then took her seat beside Michael on the couch.
“How long are you going to let her stay here?” Michael asked after a while, absently stroking her hair.
Nikita shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll think of something. My week off isn’t over yet. She can stay that long, at least.” She grabbed his hand as he reached out to caress her face. “You will join us for Christmas, won’t you?” she asked, praying he didn’t have to work.
Michael thought for a moment. “I’ll be at Section until 6, but I can be here by 6:30.” He loved watching Nikita’s face light up.
“Really? You’ll come?” she asked.
He nodded, and kissed her lightly. “I have off tomorrow,” he whispered in her ear.
“And you want to spend it shopping for little girl clothes?” Nikita laughed, turning to look at him. She was surprised when he nodded. “Well, if you want to, be my guest.” She smiled.
“It’s late. I’d better go,” Michael said, rising from the couch. He kissed her temple.
“See you tomorrow,” Nikita whispered, holding the door open for him.
After he’d gone, she slipped into a pair of light blue pajama pants and matching tank top, and pulled a blanket over to the couch, where she almost immediately fell asleep.
Even asleep she looks like an angel, Michael thought. He poured himself a glass of orange juice and started to prepare breakfast.
It wasn’t something he usually did - he normally didn’t even eat breakfast - but Maggie would be hungry. He was surprised then, when the sleepy girl trudged down the stairs, wrapped tightly in Nikita’s comforter.
“Good morning,” Michael greeted her, holding a finger up to his lips. “We have to be quiet,” he said, pointing at Nikita’s still figure.
Maggie nodded and grinned sleepily, coming over to stand beside Michael. Gently, he lifted her up to sit on the counter. “Can I help?” she whispered, discarding the blanket and watching, fascinated, as he beat eggs in a large bowl.
“Of course,” Michael said, and set her to work mixing pancake batter.
Nikita awoke as the two were just finishing setting the table and rubbed sleep from her eyes, positive she was imagining things.
“Good morning,” Michael said, bending over the back of the couch to kiss her lightly on the top of her head. Taken aback, Nikita stared. Michael never did things like this. He didn't smile, didn't cook breakfast, didn't play with children. Michael was never like this, period. He’d only come close to acting like this when he’d been with Adam. Nikita had to admit, she liked this new, if only temporary, Michael. She was distracted, however, by the sight of Maggie proudly holding up a large plate of pancakes and smiled.
“Look, Nikita!” the little girl grinned. “I helped Michael make breakfast!” Nikita glanced over at Michael and winked.
“You sure did, sweetie,” she said, sitting down at the table which was now laden with pancakes, eggs, bacon, toast, and three plates. Again surprised, she asked, “You’re joining us, Michael?” as she loaded her plate.
He nodded as he took the seat next to her.
Nikita almost laughed. Michael - cold, hard, unemotional Michael - was playing the role of a fatherly figure, and she - though never really having had a mother - was playing the part of a mother to an adorable, much-to-trusting, five year old girl. It was almost too good to be true. It was almost normal. Right now Nikita actually felt like a normal human being, one that belonged to a family. But she knew this wouldn’t last. It couldn’t. Still, she was determined to enjoy it as long as it lasted.
“I’ll go change, and then we can go,” Nikita called over her shoulder as she ran to slip into something for a casual family-type outing. Deciding on a pair on jeans and a red turtleneck, she quickly ran a brush through her hair and French braided it, securing the ends with a red ribbon.
Michael, of course, was wearing his customary black pants and jacket, but Nikita noticed that he was wearing a cream sweater underneath it. She hid her smile as she pulled on her shoes, and grabbed Maggie’s coat, handing her her own hat and gloves. Together, the three headed out into the brisk December morning, Michael and Nikita hand-in-hand, Maggie skipping along in front of them.
“It’s Christmas Eve,” Nikita told Michael, figuring he probably had forgotten. Most people who worked for Section tended to forget about holidays.
“Mhm,” he nodded, keeping an eye on Maggie who had her face pressed up against a store window.
“Kita!” she cried, pointing. “Look!”
Nikita’s smile faded as she saw what the little girl was grinning at. A department store had a large display in the front window. A beautiful Christmas tree stood tall and erect, white lights blinking on and off, white angel ornaments shimmering in the still early sunlight.
“Yeah...” she whispered, her own face now only inches away as well.
“Can we get it?” Maggie begged, staring hopefully up at her.
Nikita swallowed, her throat tight. “If we have enough money, we’ll come back for it later,” she said noncommittally.
Maggie took that as an acceptable answer, and smiled. “Okay.”
Nikita and Michael watched as she ran to the next store, and took her turn staring in at the decorations that lay in the window.
“Why didn’t you get the tree?" Michael asked. "It‘s not like you don't have enough money. Section covers all expenses.”
Nikita shrugged. “I’ve never had a Christmas tree,” she said simply. “Mum never got one. And when you live on the streets, trees didn’t really matter.”
“What about for the apartment? You don't live on the streets now,” Michael pressed, confused. He knew Nikita loved Christmas, but not Christmas trees?
She shrugged. “Like I said... we’ll see.”
The tree was easily forgotten as the three of them stepped into a store Maggie had come across, and spent a good hour and a half picking out clothes, shoes, hats, coats, and mittens. They headed to a nearby cafe for lunch around 1, and Maggie gobbled down everything Nikita ordered for her, though never asking for seconds. Nikita did, however, catch her staring at a piece of cheesecake that was circling the room on one of the waiter’s trays, and kindly asked him to bring her a piece as well. When it came, Nikita slid it across the table to Maggie, who smiled shyly before digging in.
They returned to Nikita’s apartment around 6, laden down with bags full of clothes and Christmas decorations, though Nikita had intentionally skipped the street with the beautiful Christmas tree Maggie had spotted earlier. Christmas trees brought back bad memories.
They dropped the bags on the couch and hung their clothes up in the closet, while Nikita made hot cocoa.
It was around 7:00 when Maggie looked up from the movie they were watching and screamed, “Look! It’s snowing!”
Without thinking, she immediately ran to the closet and pulled on her coat and boots and ran out onto Nikita’s balcony, hands reaching towards the sky.
Nikita and Michael watched from the doorway as the little girl stuck her tongue out to catch snowflakes.
Feeling the sudden urge to join her, Nikita grabbed her own coat and threw Michael’s at him. Within minutes the three of them were engrossed in an intense snowball fight, laughter ringing in the silent, cold evening.
After the three were out of breath, cold, and sopping wet, they trudged back inside, quickly discarding their wet clothes and throwing them into the drier. Cuddling up on the couch, it was only moments before Maggie was fast asleep in Michael’s protective arms, breathing quietly. Michael stroked her hair as he stared out the window at the still falling snow.
“What are you going to do with her?” he asked after a while, turning his face to look at Nikita.
She sighed. “I don’t know, Michael. I can’t just throw her out. And I don’t trust adoption agencies after everything I’ve seen.”
Michael nodded in agreement. “But you can’t keep her, either,” he added, sounding a bit sad himself.
“I know,” Nikita murmured, reaching over to stroke the girl’s hair as well. Michael caught her hand and gave it a squeeze before standing up.
“I’m going to go put her in bed,” he whispered, cradling the child tightly in his arms. Nikita nodded, and stretched out on the sofa as he turned away, pulling a blanket over her legs. By the time Michael got back downstairs, Nikita was sound asleep, once more, on the sofa. He smiled to himself.
Tucking her in, he curled up next to her, draping one arm over her waist and thought to himself, Everything’s working out perfectly.
“Yeah?” she mumbled, half awake.
“Josephine.” Sitting up, she pushed Michael’s hand off her and stared wildly at the wall.
“I’m on downtime,” she said angrily, trying to keep her voice down so that she wouldn’t wake Michael or Maggie.
“We need you to come in,” the voice said. “Bring the girl. Michael as well.”
Nikita stared un-blinkingly at the ceiling, a tear rolling down her cheek. How had they found out about Maggie? What were they going to do to her? Would they kill her?
“Michael,” she muttered, pushing him gently. “Michael, get up,” she said louder.
“Merry Christmas,” he whispered, sitting up and kissing her. “What’s wrong?” he asked, seeing the look of terror on her face.
“We have to go in. And we have to bring Maggie with.”
“Where are we?” Maggie whispered, eyes wide and full of fear.
“This is where we work,” Nikita replied, almost as quietly.
“Why do they all have guns?” Maggie asked, eyes focused on the weapon that swung from the man’s hip in front of her.
When Nikita and Michael didn’t answer, she began to cry. “What’s going on?” she shouted, terrified.
Finally one of the guards turned around and directed them all to close their eyes. Nikita, knowing they could be killed if they didn’t follow orders, did as she was told, covering Maggie’s eyes as well. Finally they came to a stop.
“Open your eyes, Nikita,” Operations ordered from some corner of the room. Slowly opening her eyes, Nikita gasped.
Everywhere she looked there were Christmas lights, wreaths, and decorations. And in the middle of the War Room stood the very Christmas tree Maggie had wanted to buy the day before. Christmas music played faintly throughout Section, and Birkoff and Walter grinned from where they stood amongst all the other operatives.
“W-what’s this?” Nikita asked, suspiciously.
“Your bon voyage party,” Birkoff grinned, handing her a package.
Glancing at Michael, she saw that he was grinning from ear to ear. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered.
“T-this is real?” Nikita asked, still not sure what to believe.
Madeline nodded.
That was all the conformation Nikita needed. She eagerly tore open the box Birkoff had given her and smiled. It was a gorgeous emerald green sweater, a pare of pearl earrings tucked away in a corner.
“Birkoff...” she murmured, giving her friend a hug. “Thank you,” she whispered.
She received a new leather jacket from Walter, and a pearl necklace to match Birkoff’s gift from Jamie.
Finally Michael turned to her and kissed her hand, then knelt down on one knee. Tears automatically flew to Nikita’s eyes as she stared down at the man she loved with all her heart. “Will you marry me?” he whispered, pulling a black velvet box from his pocket. He took the simple gold band with the red crystal in it and slid it onto her finger. Nikita stared dumbfounded.
After a minute, a grin spread across her face, and she nodded. “Yes, Michael, I’ll marry you! Yes, yes, yes!”
The two embraced until Operations cleared his throat.
“Madeline and I have a gift for you as well,” he said, glancing at his counterpart.
Now Nikita turned her eyes warily to the two leaders of Section One and quietly accepted the manila envelope she was handed. Inside was a single sheet of paper, and on it, a single sentence. 'You’re free.'
Nikita’s head shot up, eyes wide. “You’re serious?” she asked, voice hoarse.
The two nodded.
"Birkoff has all your papers. You’re done working for the Section as of this moment,” Madeline said, a small smile on her face.
Grinning, Nikita turned to Michael and threw her arms around him. “I know what to do with Maggie now,” she whispered in his ear as they spun.
“So do I,” he replied. They turned to Maggie, who stood silently next to beautiful tree. They held their arms out and grinned as Maggie’s infamous toothless smile spread across her face as she ran towards them and leaped into their arms.
“Welcome home,” Nikita murmured in her ear. “Welcome home.”
After the three of them said their goodbyes to Walter, Birkoff, Madeline, and Operations, and grabbed everything they’d need to start their new lives as free people, they turned around once more at Van Access and stared back at the sea of faces that stood watching them, smiling.
“Come back and visit, Sugar,” Walter called.
Nikita grinned through her tears and nodded.
“Bye Uncle Walter! Bye Uncle Birkoff! Bye , sir!” Maggie called, waving animatedly.
Then, together, the newly-made family turned, hand-in-hand, and walked out into the December sunlight.
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