A/N: This is the story of Nikita's two years in training that I previously mentioned in Section's Favorite. I hope to update it every other day for as long as I can, so keep an eye out for it! And yes, I know the title is crappy, I couldn't think of anything else at this point...
Disclaimer: I do not own lfn.
The New Recruit
Michael slumped in his office chair, his face buried in his hands.
Madeline was calling for him. He couldn't seem to move.
It was today, one year ago, that his life fell apart. When everything changed.
The day that Simone died.
He lifted his weary, sleep deprived body from the seat and slowly managed to make his way to Madeline's office. He can't imagine what she wanted from him, but then again, he didn't really care at this point. He just wanted to get it done, go home. Sleep off this heavy depression that had befallen him.
"We've hadn't had much luck with our new recruit. For a week now she's been violent and rebelling against everything and everyone," Madeline started off, sitting calmly and composed in front of her computer.
Usually he stood. Today he couldn't hold up his weight. The chair was too tempting to resist. "I've heard."
"You've met her already. I'm sure you had enough time to see her stubborn nature. We assigned her to another trainer, but she won't respond. I think she has great potential here, if only she'd start to behave. I think you'd be perfect for her, Michael. Your strict, no nonsense ways would be very well suited for a personality like hers. I know you never trained anyone solo before, but I think she'd be a perfect experiment. I'm sure you're ready."
She let her sentence hang, awaiting a reply from him.
He wasn't in to her games today. He managed to lift himself from the chair. A nod signaled his acknowledgment and reluctant acceptance.
When he reached the door, Madeline called him back. "Michael? How are you holding up today?"
Terribly. Horribly. I think my heart just leaked out of my chest. Excuse me while I mop that up for you. "I'm fine."
She nodded with a smile. "Good. Then you can start the training today. She's on level six, room twenty two. Draw up a profile of your training process, then start working it out. Good luck, Michael. Not that you'll need it, of course."
He stared wearily in to her eyes before giving a long blink and heading out.
He had a lot of work to do.
It wouldn't be done today. It wouldn't be done for a long time.
He hated commitments.
He hated today.
He walked down the long stretch of hallways. No one looked his way. No one stopped him. No one spoke to him. They all feared him. It's been like this for a year now. Exactly a year.
He liked it this way. It was quieter. Peaceful.
His hand reached the door of his office. His sanctuary. Going inside, he locked the door.
Perhaps first impressions really were misleading.
The first time he had ever seen Nikita Wirth, she had been terrified. The next, she was furious and violent. Now she looked serene. Her back was on the ground, her feet resting above her on the bed.
She didn't bother looking up to see who had entered her room. She didn't care.
"Unless you're here to release me back in to the normal world, could you please leave me? I'm busy," her voice was deep, rough. It sounded like she must have a sore throat. Most likely from screaming at her old mentor.
There would be none of that when he was in control.
"Stand up." His voice was soft. He never yelled. The last time he had raised his voice was last year. When...well, that didn't matter now.
She grunted and closed her eyes in disregard.
She obviously didn't know who she was dealing with. He was the best of the best. No one disobeyed him. He'd have to show her who was boss right off the bat. Jurgen would be proud if he knew.
Michael grabbed a chunk of her hair and tugged hard. She let out a scream, but scrambled to her feet to release the pain.
He didn't let go. "I'm going to make this clear. You will obey what I tell you. You will not mouth off. If you don't do what I say, there will be severe consequences. Do I make myself clear?" He was surprised he hadn't fainted from weariness. He hadn't spoken so many words together at once for many months.
Her jaw was set tight, her eyes blazing. She didn't reply.
He took the fistful of hair and yanked it harder. A whimper. Tears from the sharp pain filled her eyes. She nodded, ever so slightly. "I got it, already. Would you let me go now?"
He released her, but a few light blonde strands stayed intertwined in his fingers from pulling. Ignoring it, he walked the length of the room. "Training starts tomorrow. You'll be up by five AM. A minute later and I will pull you out of bed myself. You'll be dressed, ready, and standing by the door when I come in. There won't be any screaming, yelling, complaining or disagreeing." He continued eye contact until he reached the door.
He had made his point. She showed signs of nervousness. Her rapid blinking suggested she was scared. She swallowed hard, not daring to look away.
But he knew she'd get over it. Tomorrow she'd be a devious hell again.
He'd be ready.
But not today. Today he needed to get as far away as he could from Section and everything in it.
Nikita paced. Back and forth, back and forth, the pure white interior of the small room driving her mad.
She had to get out.
In all honesty, she couldn't wait until five in the morning. When she'd be free from this locked room. When she could wreak havoc elsewhere. There was nothing to ruin in here.
She needed out. Badly.
This was worse than prison. She didn't think anything could be. This...place...had proved her wrong. It wouldn't be the last time.
She hated every face she saw here. The smile on Madeline's made her fume. The steel look in Operation's eyes made her want to disobey every order thrown at her.
And this new face. Michael. He angered her most of all.
She couldn't read him. His face was blank. Emotions swam beneath it, but out of reach. He scared her. Angered her. She liked to be in control. With him, she already knew she'd have none.
Something told her that she wouldn't have control anymore. Not after he reigned control of her.
She didn't like this new man. She wished he'd go away and not come back.