HAPPY BIRTHDAY NIKITA!

by Rosiiii

"What in the hell is going on down there??!" Operations crankily growled Madeline's way, steel blue eyes blazing, and veins popping in his neck.

"I believe it's Nikita's birthday," she said softly, barely restraining her Mona Lisa smile.

"This isn't Chuck E. Cheese Madeline," he whispered harshly, "what the f*ck is this place coming to?! Jesus!"

Madeline walked closer to Ops, and softly asked, "Might I make a suggestion?" Her dulcet tones and proximity, almost visibly relaxing Operations.

She continued, "I think we should ease up on protocol in Section from time to time, it would be good for morale, which may increase proficiency levels," she suggested deferentially.

Operations took a deep drag off his cigarette, considered her words, and then semi-glared, "They've got 10 more minutes then we shut it down -- understood?"

"Of course," Madeline smiled, and unperturbed, she gracefully walked to the door.

Elegantly attired, she turned her lush brunette head, and said over her shoulder with a twinkle in her eye, "Would you like some cake Paul?"

Operations, a bit mesmerized by her teasing, short-circuited for a second before responding, "No, thank you," with a raised eyebrow, and a quirk on his lips.

Madeline smiled broadly and kept walking.

He was suffused by warmth at Mad's playfulness. Perhaps Nikita's undisciplined joi de vivre wasn't always such a bad thing he considered, especially if it could indirectly push Madeline in his direction.

From the perch, he could see operatives congregating and talking loudly in the common area, the raucous laughter was mingled with the faint sounds of alternative music being played through several computer speakers.

Comm and Walter's area were littered with mylar balloons in various colors that Walter had whipped up. Making a bouquet of small ones for Nikita and tying them to her wrist, he very cheekily growled, "Happy Birthday sugar!"

"Awww, thanks Walter, they're beautiful" said Nikita, grabbing his face and kissing him smack dab on the mouth. Walter grabbed his heart in response, and did a pretty good Fred Sanford impersonation much to the delight of the crowd.

A big sheet cake was being devoured by various ops in commons, and Nikita now had a handful of cake which she was eating none too genteelly, licking blue frosting off her fingers.

Walter venturing too close to the birthday girl, asked "how many licks," she was due to get today, and got a dollop of icing on the nose, for his trouble.

Birkoff, at that moment -- announced that he had something to show the gathering. He had whipped up a hilarious computer animated E-card for her, which featured a very sexy anime-like Nikita, double fisting two baby glocks and riddling a birthday cake full of holes, at which point a nefarious looking bad guy popped up out of it, and fell with a thud onto the ground, clutching his chest. The words, "You're So Bad, Baby!" and "Happy Birthday!" filled the screen. The group erupted in applause.

"Eeeew, that is completely tasteless Birky -- I LOVE IT!" said Nikita, laughing uproariously, and hugging the stuffing out of him.

Nikita was happy. Right now, in this moment in time, she was happy. She knew it wouldn't and couldn't last, so she savored it, and wrapped herself up in the jubilant spirits of what Walter liked to call, "the five percent club."

Her birthday was indeed something to celebrate, she was ALIVE and healthy, and feeling more than okay. Only one thing could make her feel better, she thought with a small sad smile....

Almost on cue, that something smoothly and leisurely strolled through the Section common area. Nikita's eyes lit up at the sight, and a small smile played tremulously about her lips. Walter knowingly watched his girl's lovely countenance, and saw her entire demeanor transform into a woman in love. "Good Luck sugar," he whispered to himself, "That boy's a hard case, but if anyone can do it, you can."

Michael.

His black overcoat gliding back and forth as he walked, draped impossibly broad shoulders. It lay open and revealed his tall, strong and trim form. Carrying a box of files under one arm, those dreamy green eyes, surveyed the scene before him, and then focused on Nikita. He crooked his finger in her direction, never breaking his stride, and Nikita's breath caught in her throat.

In that small command, was an implicit directive to follow him to his office. She grew a little resentful at his discourteous attitude, especially, since it was her birthday.

She wondered if he was angry at her impromptu party. That had to be it. Her face fell, as she contemplated being lectured to, but more importantly at disappointing him.

"I'll be right back guys," she mumbled, taking a deep breath and heading his way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Yes?" Nikita asked, hanging back at the door.

"Come in," Michael said quietly, "sit down."

Nikita exhaled loudly, and as was her custom, plopped down in the chair opposite him, in her usual loose-limbed way. Michael lifted his chin and regarded her. Nikita searched his eyes for a clue, then gave up.

"Look Michael, if it's about the party -- " she started, exasperatedly, trying to explain.

"Why wasn't I invited?" Michael said, interrupting her. Looking at her almost wide-eyed.

Nikita sat across from him amazed, her mouth hanging open. If it took her one hundred years, she still wouldn't be able to figure him out.

Here she thought he was about to lay down the law, and instead, he's looking at her like a hurt 5-year old. She swallowed hard. Nikita didn't know what to say, she flushed a bit, grew flustered and then hurriedly responded, "Oh! Well uh, Michael...it's not like...I...sent out invitations or anything! I mean, I would have told you if -- if I had seen you around earlier today, b-but--"

"Nikita," he broke in, staving off her embarrassment, "It's okay...I was only kidding," he said, his mouth barely tilting upwards at one corner.

Nikita's eyes, if possible, went even wider as she looked at him, and with eyebrows raised, she slowly shook her head back and forth. Sometimes she couldn't believe him.

"Happy Birthday Nikita," Michael said sincerely, pushing the box of files towards her.

This was so one of those times.

Nikita stared at the box with no expression. She was beginning to get royally pissed. "You're giving me a box of files for my birthday?! You're giving me work, on my birthday?!" Nikita had her head down, piercing him with icy blue eyes. Each question was a deliberate, sardonic attempt at clarification.

Michael said nothing just continued to gaze at her, his hand on top of the box.

"Fine!" Nikita replied, hopping up, resentment in every movement, "I'll get right on it!" She reached out to quickly grab the box, and swing away.

"Careful," Michael said.

"Oh, of what?" Nikita said irritated, almost disgustedly, "You know Michael if you're annoyed about the party, just say so --you don't have to --"

(((Meow)))

Nikita jumped, startled at the sound and the scampered movements from inside the box. The box jostled in her arms, and she quickly put it back down on Michael's desk, her hands on top of it. She looked at him excitedly, and hopefully breathing fast.

Michael leaned back in his chair and regarded her with amusement, "Open it," he said quietly, his fingers on his chin.

Nikita was like a kid, anxiously lifting the lid, and ruffling the mounds of shredded paper inside, until she saw a tiny orange tabby kitten, with big blue eyes to rival hers, staring right back at her.

"Michael," she breathed, "I - I don't know what to say...I mean, other than thank you," her face incredibly beautiful and filled with gratitude at what he had done, was glowing. He felt his heart swell at the sight. "She's so beautiful," she cooed.

"He," said Michael.

"Really?" Nikita said, smiling and lifting the kitten to her cheek caressing him, and hearing his tiny purr. He batted her long hair with his small paws, and twisted himself up in it. Nikita laughed throatily. Michael's lids dropped a bit at the sound she made.

"I wanted to...make amends for my behavior a couple months ago. I shouldn't have said what I did...about...getting rid of the cat." He said slowly, assuming she had obeyed his edict immediately, "I'm sorry Nikita."

Nikita looked down, and kept her eyes on the small ball of silky fur in her arms. Michael didn't need to know this very second, that it took her a good month and a half to finally ask her friend Carla to take the cat in.

She lifted long lashes, and smiled sweetly at him, "Apology accepted and...thank you for my present."

"You're welcome," Michael's beautiful eyes smiled back at her.