Title: Pitch Black
Rating: Hard R
Genre and/or Pairing: Dark, Michael/Nikita, Percy
Spoilers: Midseason one
Warnings: Death, Violence, Het, Darkfic
Summary: One day, we all must pay for our sins
Notes: Written for the nikita comment ficathon.
Nikita awoke in Michael's arms, instinct and training told her that someone broke into their silent farmhouse, staring into his open eyes. She nodded and they slipped from the bed, grabbed their bedside guns, then into the hall. Nikita took the safety off the handgun.
The creaky Victorian house worked against them as well as their highly trained enemy.
They kissed before splitting up to go down the front and the hidden servant stairs.
Nikita walked down, avoiding the loud fourth step, to the empty parlor. Only a easel and a fainting couch witnessed her passing into the hall where she saw the kitchen light on at the end.
Michael would get there first.
Her stomach sank as she raised the gun higher.
Whoever was in there didn't care if they were found. They were making themselves comfortable, few who knew either of her or Michael's reputations would rest easy in their house, that left only the stupid, naive, or powerful. She hoped it was the first.
Getting closer she heard voices. Both as familiar as her own. She opened the door to see Percy sitting at the table with a wooden box before him.
Michael pointed his gun at Percy's face, a yard away from him, grimace on his face.
"My grandmother told me long ago that we all must pay for our sins." Percy didn't spare Nikita a glance.
The front and the back door burst open, slamming into the floor, while Division agents strode in, armed to the teeth.
Percy picked up the box, opened it, and dumped its content onto the rough table. "I've gotten one traitor. What to do with the others?"
Nikita sucked in a harsh breath, blood boiling, she recognized that pale hand and the ring upon it. She gripped the trigger tighter. She had two decisions: kill Percy and die or go with Percy and die.
It wasn't a hard one to make.