A/N: This is my twentieth lfn story I've written. I just taken notice of how many I've been doing. Just to let you know, I won't be ambushing the site with my many stories forever - they do have an end. But lately I haven't been able to find the enthusiam to write my own stories, so doing these stories have helped me try out different styles. Btw, special thanks to Ann - I look forward to your reviews every time I put up a story. Thanks for reading all of them!

Disclaimer: I do not own lfn


Nikita stared through the window of Michael's office. Oblivious to her presence, he stared in to his computer and typed away, most likely filing on a mission. Always hard at work, so little time to play.

The very sight of him hurt her. Painful, like stabbing straight to the heart.

He confused her in to sleepless nights. She was never able to read him well, but now it was impossible to tell what he was thinking or feeling at any moment.

He was completely closed off to her. Which was his intention, she knew.

It didn't make sense. None of his behavior did. One moment he was telling her how worried he was that he may have lost her. The next, he's telling her to be patient. That they couldn't be together. That sometimes, all they had were their dreams. And lies about her new found friend Jurgen, whom he didn't trust and wanted her to murder, when he seemed perfectly trustworthy to her.

Was he expecting her to follow this? To understand any of it?

Yes, he was trying to protect them and their cover. But it's been weeks. Weeks, without a single emotion worth showing.

He had given her one night. One, out of two years of training and another year of being an operative. One time to see his emotions. To see the real him. To see deep down. After all the time she had been waiting for him, he finally let it pay off.

She had thought it was a turning point. The beginning of a new relationship. The next step. Seeing the real, true Michael, all the time.

But she had been wrong. And now she was living in her miserably confused world while he seemed to have not a care in the world. Not that she would know, seeing that he never let her see what he was feeling or thinking.

Well, at least she knew herself. She knew that this whole time, she'd been waiting for him. She knew that at least one person of the two had wanted that new relationship.

But now things would be different. If he didn't want to bother with her, if he had realized being with her was too risky and not worth it, then she could make that fine with her.

Had she made a movement while her thoughts were in rant mode? Michael's attention was caught, turning from his computer to lock gazes with her.

A soft, barely there smile tugged at the corners of his dry lips. His eyes questioned her with what she was doing, standing there.

Maybe he did care. Maybe he'd decide, in time, to share his emotions with her. But there were too many maybes and too little facts.

In her mind's eye, she slowly started to see the tables turning. When, at some point, she'd be the one who couldn't be reached. And Michael would be the one visibly yearning for her. Pleading for her kind words. He, having the knowledge of what it felt like to carry the burden of curiosity around his neck like a heavy weight, dragging him down more and more each day. It would be a nice change, she had to say. A change from her being the one to always suffer from his coldness.

While mesmerized by his sight, she jumped with a start when someone came up to her and touched her arm.

"Jurgen." She said with a smile.

"I was wondering if you'd...like to go to eat?" He said in his rough, strangely accented voice.

The mental picture of those tables turning came rushing back to her. Glancing back at Michael, she saw he was still looking, curious as to what was going on.

To ease his wonder, she smiled brightly at the man beside her. "I'd love to." Was her reply.

Jurgen put her hand in his and started to walk away.

Throwing back a glance at Michael, she saw his guard temporarily down. He looked sad. Perhaps as miserable as she had been the last few weeks.

Maybe she was wrong, with what she was doing. Maybe she should give him more time. Maybe he did suffer as much as she.

But she had never been very fond of maybe's.