As a matter of fact, everyone seemed to be smiling at Section today.  Michael was puzzled.  Everyone he met in the hall had these smiles plastered on their faces.  Was there something in the water?  Had it become spring, and he had not noticed?  Michael continued down the gray halls and met Walter.  When Walter looked up and saw  Michael, his eyes started to twinkle.  "Hi ya, Michael.  What's up?"  Walter went on his way chuckling,  as if he expected no answer, and he didn't receive one.  What he did not see was Michael's gaze following him with a baffled expression.

        Michael reached his office door.  There was a crude, hand-lettered sign taped there.   NOTICE--KNOCK BEFORE ENTERING!  (BUT WAIT 10 MINUTES FIRST). SIGNED  MICHAEL & NIKITA."  Michael looked around and saw no one. Not a bad idea, he thought, but he swiftly swiped the sign  and squashed it into a small ball.  He thought he heard a giggle, but there was still no one visible in the area. Obviously, news of his encounter with Nikita in the car had been bandied about Section One. Not like Madeline to do something like that, but anyone could have seen them, or at least seen the fogged up windows in the car.  Well, if he had to take a little ribbing, he would, because it had certainly been worth every minute of  fitting into the cramped space and jockeying for a comfortable position.

        He knew he'd better find something else on which to focus.  He picked up a stack of reports, and a dozen packages of condoms fell in his lap.  Obviously, there were no missions on pad today.  There was entirely too much humor being externalized at his expense.

          His phone rang.  It was Operations, and he wanted to see Michael now. "Yes, Of course, right away."  Operations did not sound happy, but then he almost never did.

        Operations was pacing about in his office aerie.  His pale blue eyes snapping with energy.  "Michael, you've been warned about becoming too attached to the material before.  You've suffered  the consequences first hand.  What are you thinking!" Operations made the last a loud declamatory statement.  It was not a question.

        "What do you mean?"  Michael's defense was a simple one.  Don't ever act guilty, even if one is.  His hands were folded in front of him, and he looked Operations directly in the eyes giving him a taste of the ‘patented blank stare.'

        Operations stared back.  "I mean your little escapade with Nikita in the parking lot. I guess it was Nikita.  Maybe I'm being presumptuous.   Maybe you were just ..."

        Michael interrupted Operations.  "What you're doing is interfering in something that does not concern you."  Michael stood back waiting for Operations to explode.

        "Does not concern me when at least 6 people reported to me that it looked like your car was trying to take off on its own accord early this morning.  It's bad for morale. It diminishes you as a team leader to be seen in such circumstances.  If you can't keep your hands off Nikita, at least, keep them off her on Section property!" Operations paced as he railed at Michael.
 
        Michael's voice rasped as he asked, "Is that all?" It took all of Michael's self-control to keep from showing any emotion.  His voice was the only clue to how upset  he really was by Operations arguments.

        "For now, that is all, Michael."  Operations shook his head in disgust. After Michael left he continued to pace.  Madeline was not telling him everything. He did not believe she was unaware of circumstances between Michael and Nikita.  He was sure that she had in some way encouraged the relationship to go beyond where ‘he' thought it ought to go.  Michael and Nikita were performing well.  That was true enough, but all this levity was really more than he could handle.  Although, he could remember what it was like some years before when he and Madeline ....  All the same, he had to be rough on them, for the good of Section One.

        Michael walked back to his office.  He met each smarmy smile with a blank stare. Good, he thought, no more signs.  He entered his office and closed the door. He activated the scrambler and called his home number.  He hated to awaken Nikita, but he wanted to warn her about today's tempest in a teapot.  No answer.  Well, she probably wouldn't feel comfortable answering his phone anyway,  he thought and dialed her cell phone.

        One ring, two  rings, three--"Yes,"  she said groggily.

        "Nikita, I'm sorry to awaken you.  I know you need your sleep, but if you were planning on coming in here today, I would advise you not to do it," he said hoping that this would not have the opposite effect with the independent Nikita.

        "What's up Michael?  I really planned on sleeping all day."  Nikita gave a big yawn and stretched, as she looked around Michael's apartment and settled back in the bed.

        "I know and I'm sorry, Cherie.  I just didn't want you to walk in here, not knowing what to expect."  Michael felt tongue-tied and unsure of how to tell her.

        "Geez, Michael, what's the mystery?  You've got my curiosity aroused now." Nikita said as she sat up again.

        "They know about our uh- tête-à-tête in the car this morning."

        "You mean Madeline knows?

        "No, Nikita, everybody knows.  Everyone was ‘smiling' at me today. Then there was a sign on my office door about knocking first and then waiting 10 minutes. Then when I pulled out some work, condoms went everywhere."  Michael was getting mildly annoyed at telling all the petty little details to Nikita.

        "Cool!"  Nikita threw her head back and laughed.

        "Shall I tell you how ‘cool' it was when Operations called me to his office about it.
He gave me his old standard speech about emotional attachments between operatives.  It  was all I could do to stand there and listen and show no emotion."  Michael could not  understand how Nikita could take this so cavalierly.   Operations had been right.  He had  experienced the consequences of emotional involvement.  Would he never learn.

        "Well, Michael, that's one of your best tricks--showing no emotion.  How hard could that have been?"  Nikita laughed again.  "Hey, I'm coming down there.  I don't want to miss the fun."

        "Ni-ki-ta!"  Michael knew it wouldn't do any good to argue with her once she had made up her mind.

        "Relax, Michael.  So we made wild and passionate love in your car.  So what!  Operations and Madeline can just get over it.  And so can everybody else. Michael, they've been talking about us for years, so now there's some truth to what their saying. Big deal.  We're not the only ones having a relationship in that place." Nikita was already slipping into her clothes.  "Bye, see you in a few minutes." And she disconnected.

        Michael wondered if he would ever learn how to handle Nikita, or if it was even
possible.  His call had the opposite effect that he had intended, and now she was coming to join the ‘fun.'  Michael thought about the loss of  Simone and knew he would rather die than risk  losing Nikita.

        Nikita sailed into Section One.  She was wearing a black pair of Michael's jeans and one of his black tee shirts.  Her wheaten hair was pulled back by an unusual black ribbon.  It looked suspiciously like a neck tie.  Nikita had raided Michael's closet in desperation.  The clothes she had worn earlier were just too wrinkled to wear, and she couldn't find an iron anywhere.  His jeans fit peculiarly as well.  Michael and she were almost the same height, so the length was okay, but as slender and well built as Michael was, the jeans were loose in the waist and hips.  Michael's butt is bigger than mine, she thought.  Michael does have a great butt though, she sighed.

 Nikita walked over to Walter's work area.  "Hey, Walter, what's going on?"

        Walter turned and gave her a conspiratorial smile and a wink.  "Could ask you the same question, Sugar, but I know what's going on.  I saw you two this morning. Now I'm terribly jealous that you've dumped me for that Michael fellow, but if you need any advice or lessons on how to handle that guy, just let me know."

        Nikita giggled,  "You'll always be my first love, Walter."  Then she lowered her voice to a stage whisper,  "But I think I can handle the guy just fine."  She planted a kiss on his wrinkled cheek and turned to leave.

        "That'd be my best guess."  Walter shook his head and went back to his work.

        Nikita walked over to Birkoff's computer station.  "Hi, Birkoff."

        "Hi, Nikita.  Didn't think you'd be here today."  Birkoff vainly tried to hide the smirk he felt seizing his face.

        "Well, I hadn't planned on it, but here I am.  I understand there's some scuttlebutt
going around about Michael and me."  Nikita loomed over Birkoff, and she intended it to be a little menacing.  Birkoff was easy to intimidate.

        "I don't know what you're talking about, Nikita.  Listen I've got work to do.  Oh,
Operations said if you came in today, he wanted to see you."

        "Operations wants to see me, not Madeline?"  Madeline usually handled Nikita
and her problems.  Nikita felt more comfortable with Madeline, if that was saying anything at all.  Oh, well best to get the ‘chewing out' over and done, she thought.

        "No, Madeline is out picking out more bonsai for her office.  She pruned a little too closely on a couple of the ones she had, and they died."  Birkoff shook his head. Madeline still inspired awe in all around her, no matter how long they had known her.

        "No doubt.  Well, thanks, Seymour, for the intel."  Nikita popped a green jelly bean in her mouth and went to Operations office.

        "Nikita, I'm going to make this short.  It doesn't seem to do any good to talk to Michael, so I am going to tell you plainly. An emotional relationship between cold operatives is a bad idea.  Michael already knows this, but seems to have forgotten.  It is bad for discipline if a team leader seems to be favoring a member of his team over others.

        Nikita's temper flared before she could stop and think, "I have given up everything for Section One.  I risk death almost daily for the freedom I have been given. I can't see anyone outside Section, because he would be a risk and you would cancel him.  I'm not supposed to see anyone in Section.  No one cared when I saw Jurgen.  Oh, yes, that was different because it was  part of a manipulation and because he was blackmailing you, so that was okay  for me to see him.  What am I supposed to do?  I'm not a nun, and Michael's not a priest for heaven's sake.  What do you expect two young healthy people to do when they love each other? You may want machines, but we're not." Nikita's face was red, and she was shouting by the end of her speech.

        Operations pale blue eyes bore through Nikita.  "I don't care what you do. That has nothing to do with the reason you exist here in Section One.  You are here to do a job. Your behavior this morning was inexcusable.  If this relationship continues, one of you will be canceled.  I haven't decided yet which one of you it will be.  Nikita, the choice is really yours.  That's all."

        Michael continued to do paperwork for the rest of the afternoon.  He expected Nikita to come breezing in any moment to stir up trouble for them both, but then that was his Nikita.  He marveled that  he really thought of her that way and could admit it to himself.  He had heard Operations implied threat very clearly, and he knew it would be difficult to make Nikita understand that they still had to be careful.  He looked at his watch and saw that it was 6PM.  Nikita must have changed her mind about coming to Section  after all.  Good, he thought, she needed the rest.

        Michael stood up and turned off the light in his office.  He thought about going home to his apartment and finding Nikita there, curled up asleep in his  bed.  He shook his head to try to remove that image from his mind, but his mind  was still on Nikita as he walked past Birkoff's station.

        "Hey, Michael, what did Operations  say to Nikita that had her so upset.  She flew outta here like a bat outta he**."  Birkoff was busily playing Riven on one computer and chess on another.

        "Nikita was here?"  Michael asked softly.  "I didn't see her."

        "Well, she didn't stay long."  Birkoff's attention was not focused on Michael and Nikita.  "Like I said she breezed in and flew out."

        Michael left Section in a hurry, but not in such a hurry that anyone would notice.  Once he was in his car, he flipped his phone open and dialed Nikita's cell phone.  "Where are you?" he asked when she answered.

        "I'm at my place."

        "Can I come over, I want to see you.  We need to talk."  Michael couldn't understand what was wrong with Nikita.  Her attitude was too cool and distant.

        "No!  I'm really tired.  I haven't had much sleep lately, and I need to take advantage of this downtime."  Nikita abruptly disconnected.
 
        "I'm coming over," he said to the dial tone.

        "You said what?"  Madeline's calm exterior belied the fury that raged within her mind.  Madeline and Operations were having coffee in Madeline's office when Operations told her of  his separate afternoon conversations with Michael and Nikita.

        "Michael I merely threatened by reminding him of Simone, but Nikita was actually throwing a fit in my office.  I decided to cool her down a bit.  I told her I would cancel
one of them if their relationship continued at all.  That seemed to do the trick, and she left as fast as she came.  I don't like operatives yelling at me in my own office, Madeline.  It's a failing I have."  Operations leaned back in his chair feeling rather smug.

        "Don't you have a clue as to what I am trying to do with those two?  Michael is in therapy to resolve all his anger and control issues.  Nikita is performing better than she ever has, and now you are trying to split them up and destroy everything I've put in place for the future.  I've been aware of the evolution of their relationship from the beginning. I've molded and guided them and it hasn't been easy.  They are both very stubborn and conflicted people.  And now you stand there and tell me that while I took  a rare free afternoon, you have single-handedly destroyed four years of my efforts." Madeline stood and started to pace back and forth.

        "Madeline, it seems that we have been working at cross-purposes.  Perhaps if you had enlightened me as to your major agenda, we might have worked together.  I have to say this relationship is a bad idea, and I have thought so from the start.  We gave Nikita to Michael as his ‘material' so that he could have a focus.  She needed his ‘expertise' for discipline, but I can't say he's been too successful in that, can you?" Operations pale blue eyes bore into Madeline's brown ones.

        Madeline took a deep breath to regain her control.  "Yes, I understood your agenda, and I encouraged you to do that, because I knew Nikita would bring Michael back to us in a much more important way.  Michael was dead inside, and we would have lost him sooner or later.  The reason he was such a perfect operative was that he didn't care if he lived or died.  Section had taken everything away from him, and the minute I saw the file on Nikita, I knew I had a tool to do just that."

        Operations rarely disagreed with Madeline, but he did this time.  "But Michael was fine before Nikita came.  He did the job without question.  He was the perfect operative, and Nikita has ruined that," he said petulantly.

        "That's where we have an inherent disagreement.  I have kept you somewhat in the dark because I knew how you felt about Nikita.  I, on the other hand, think that Michael has benefited from Nikita's being here, therefore, Section benefits from Nikita being here."  Madeline played her trump card.  Section was more important that the individuals there.

        Operations knew he was not going to win this argument with Madeline, but he could still try.  "They were having sex in Michael's car  in the parking lot, for pity's sake.   How do you think that looks.  Signs on Michael's door about knocking first.  This is not high school.  Do I have to remind you what we do here."

        Madeline knew she was winning.  "I don't think a little occasional high spirits is a bad thing.  It gives everyone a break from the serious and dark life we all lead.  It's unfortunate that they were so precipitate in their behavior, but it isn't the end of the world.  It would have all blown over in two or three days.  I had already talked to Michael.  He understood it shouldn't be repeated, but you have totally  ....." Madeline shook her head in disgust.

        She continued, "I will have to think about this, and when I have figured out how to remedy this without making you look like a total ass, I will let you know.  Psych Ops is my area, and you are interfering with my ability to do my job.  I can only wonder how much this has to do with Michael and Nikita or whether it has more to do with the fact that ‘we' no longer have that type of relationship."

        "Madeline, you are going too far."  Operations objected as he rose to leave.  He knew he was defeated.

        "And so, are you going to cancel me,"  she asked with a Mona Lisa smile.

        "Of course not.  But don't push me.  Remember who is still in charge here."  Operations left shaking his head.
 
        "Of course," Madeline said to his retreating back.  She leaned back to consider what to do next, then picked up the telephone.

        Nikita sat rocking back and forth on the sofa with her arms wrapped around her knees.  The tracks of the tears she had shed since leaving Operations office stained her stricken face.  She wondered again and again how she could have been so stupid as to play seduction games with Michael in the Section parking lot, much less think that they would ever be allowed to have a real relationship.  She knew Madeline had even encouraged Michael to either pursue the relationship or drop it totally.  Nikita was hopelessly confused about Operations' bald threat.

        Nikita jumped as a knock sounded at the door.  It had to be Michael.  It was his knock.  Why couldn't he just stay away as she had asked.  She went over to the sink and splashed water on her face.  She could see her reflection and her red puffy eyes in the toaster.  She walked to the door and opened it with the chair still in place.  It ‘was' Michael.

        "Nikita, what is it?  What's wrong?"  Why was she shutting him out like this, was all he could think.  Was there someone with her?  McClure?  Michael remembered what Madeline had said about him being ‘fond' of her now after the Colombian mission.

        "Nothing, Michael.  I just need some time to myself.  I'm really tired."  If  he didn't hurry and leave, she was going to break down again.

        "May I come in?"  Michael didn't want to have to beg.  "Please," he said this  softly, his gray-green eyes doing the begging for him.  His whole attitude was one of dejection.  He had been at this door before.

        "Nikita, what is wrong?  What have I done?  Was it Operations?"  Michael tried to think of anything that would cause her to rebuff him this way. "I'm not leaving, Nikita. You can talk to me in the hall, or you can let me in and we can discuss this."

        Nikita sighed and gave in.  She unlatched the chain and opened the door to allow Michael to enter.  He walked in and looked around.  "Are you alone?"

        "Of course, I'm alone.  Who do you think would be here anyway?"  Nikita could not bring herself to face Michael, so she turned away.

        "It was a stupid question.  Nikita, look at me."  Michael touched her gently on the shoulder, but didn't force her to turn around.  "Talk to me, please, Cherie."  Michael's voice was soft and gentle.  He could see  Nikita's shoulders trembling and knew she was at a breaking point.   He had never seen her like this, and the sight of her ripped  a hole through the compartments of mind and heart that he had maintained so long.  He waited. He would not push her past this point.

        Nikita took a deep breath, let it out, and took another.  She turned around to face the man she knew she loved beyond all she had ever known.  She let out the second breath and buried her face in Michael's chest.  She felt his arms surround and hold her gently, not demanding, but comforting her.  She felt him guide her toward the sofa.

        Michael gently tilted her chin with his right hand and looked into her tear-filled cerulean eyes.  His own eyes were swimming with tears, but he was unaware. "Tell me. You have to trust me."  His voice was hoarse with  raw emotion.

        Nikita swallowed.  "Operations."

        "What about him," Michael asked.  "What could he say to you that would upset you like this."  Michael stroked her silky blonde hair to soothe her shuddering body.

        "He's going to, to cancel one of us, if we con-continue our relationship,"  she stuttered.

        "What?  He said what!"  Michael could not believe his ears.  He thought Nikita must have been mistaken.

        "I came in this afternoon, and Birkoff told me Operations wanted to see me. Well, he launched in about us in the car and a bunch of other crap, and I lost my temper.  I was yelling at him that we were in love and what were we supposed to do, and the next thing I knew he said he would cancel one of us if we continued the relationship.  I ran out as fast as I could.  I've been here ever since.  You've got to leave, Michael.  He'll do it I know he will.  I can't go through this again.  I can't."  Nikita broke and began to sob.  "You can't either."

        Michael sat down on the sofa with Nikita and let her cry till there were no more tears.  "Here blow."  He handed her his handkerchief, pulled out his cell phone and punched in a familiar number.  "We need to talk to you.   No, your place. We'll be over."

        Nikita blew her nose resoundingly.  "Where are we going?"

        "You'll see," he said as he kissed her softly.  "Let's go."
 

        "Hello, Trevor.  It's good to see you again.  We're here to see Ms. Frayn.  She's expecting us."  Nikita gave Michael a puzzled stare.  She still had no idea who they were going to see or why.  She didn't know anyone who lived in such posh surroundings, but obviously Michael did.

        "Certainly, sir.  I'll announce you." Trevor picked the in-house phone and spoke quietly.  "Yes, Ma'am, I'll send them right up."

        "Go right in, sir.  I believe you know the way."

        "Yes.  Thank you."  Michael ushered Nikita through the inner doors.  Green serpentine marble paved the way to elegant wrought iron fronted elevators.  They rode in silence to the 10th floor.  Nikita knew Michael was not going to tell her anything else until he was ready.

        Michael stopped before one of the two doors on that floor.  He knocked lightly. The  door was opened by a maid in a pale gray uniform.  "Thank you, Betsy.  Well, Michael and Nikita, come on in.  How lovely to see you both.  Betsy, if you will bring us some coffee,  you may go for the evening."  Madeline's soft voice startled Nikita, who barely managed to keep her mouth from dropping open.

        Michael graciously removed Nikita's coat and handed it to Betsy, who disappeared down the hall.  "But"  Nikita started.
 

    "We'll talk after coffee, Nikita.  We'll be alone then.  Michael, how is your career going?  Have you opened your own gallery yet?"  Madeline's flow of inane and polite conversation seemed endless, and Nikita attempted to take in what she saw and heard and tried  to equate it with the Madeline she knew at Section.  The apartment was an elegant and  eclectic mix of  traditional, period and Japanese lacquer pieces.  And Michael seemed to be quite at home here.

        Betsy served them coffee with a Sterling Silver set that Michael knew was made by Paul Revere and then left them alone.

        "We have to fix this, Madeline."  Michael was very direct and calm.  His hands were folded in his lap as he waited for Madeline's response.

        "Indeed we do.  Operations has put us in somewhat of a bind.  He won't want to back down in front of Nikita, but he cannot be allowed to follow through on his threat. Nikita, what would you suggest we do?"  Madeline wondered if Nikita would have any viable suggestions.

        "I don't know, Madeline.  I just know that I don't want to die, and I don't want Michael to die. I'm willing to be transferred, whatever.  I will end the relationship." Nikita's words faded to a whisper with the last sentence, and tears appeared in her blue eyes.

        Madeline looked from Nikita to Michael and back to Nikita.  "I think that all of us know by now that, ending your relationship is not warranted or even advisable.  Logically, I am not supposed to care whether you have a relationship or not, but I have watched it grow and evolve from the first when Nikita came to Section.  You are both more valuable to Section One together than you are apart.  Therefore, I will have to think about this a little more, but it will be resolved to everyone's satisfaction."

        "Nikita, I think an apology from you would be an excellent place to start. Operations just hates to have an operative yell at him.  It goes without saying that both of you should try to stay out of the parking lot."  Madeline allowed a small smile to steal across her face when she said ‘parking lot.'  She enjoyed the red flush that crept up Nikita's neck.  Michael merely gave Madeline  the latest version of his blank stare.

        "Be very discreet.  I will handle Operations, given a little time and patience.  I am aware that patience is not your strong suit, Nikita, but necessary if this is to be ‘satisfactory' for  everyone.

        Nikita leveled at look at Madeline.  "Just what do you mean by discreet, Madeline?"  Now that Nikita knew one of them wasn't going to die, her spirit was beginning to come back.

        Just go back to being what you were before.  Standoffish, conflicted.  It shouldn't be too difficult.  You've been doing it for several years.  Alternate relationships would be ideal, but I suppose that would be out of the question," Madeline suggested with the elevation of one eyebrow.

        "Yes,"  Michael said in his husky voice.  His left hand caressed Nikita's right, claiming her.

        "I don't want to be with anyone but Michael.  No more substitutes, Madeline," offered Nikita as she thought of her earlier experience with Jurgen.

 "What about when we're away from Section, Madeline?"  Nikita looked first at Michael, then at Madeline, who returned her steady gaze.

        "If you can be extremely discreet, using whatever scrambling devices you can come up with.  Michael, you don't seem to have a problem with that.  You must be very low key, and if this situation become calmer and less obvious for a while, Operations will come to see this as I do.  Can the two of you do this?  Michael, I am sure you can.  Nikita, can you continue to function in this scenario?"  Madeline received the answer she expected.

        "Yes.  But for how long, Madeline?  How much longer do we have to play games?"  Nikita had finally stopped shivering,  and she wanted some kind of answer.

        "I can't honestly tell you, but I don't think it will be long.  Don't forget. This has to start with an apology from you to Operations.  Make it a good one would be my advice."  Madeline rose, and they both knew the interview was over.

        Michael and Nikita waited in the lobby for his car to be brought around.  "The doorman knew you, Michael.  How is that?"  Nikita asked with a questioning look on her face.  She watched him closely for his response.

        "It doesn't matter, Nikita.  That is the past," Michael said cryptically and looked away, unable to meet her azure gaze.
 

        "Okay.  It's the past."  Nikita gave him a sharp look.  She had always wondered about Michael and Madeline, and tonight had only raised more questions.  "What about now?  What are we going to do tonight?"

        "What do you want to do, Nikita?"  Michael asked softly.  He did not want to press her either way knowing her emotional state was still fragile. He knew did not want to be alone, and he did not want to leave her alone.

        His train of thought was interrupted by the Valet bringing Michael's car. Michael opened Nikita's door and kissed her softly on the lips as she curled up on the leather seat.  Opening his own door, he sat down and pulled his long legs inside.  He leaned back in the seat and sighed deeply.

        "Let's drive for a bit.  We don't have to decide right now.  Let's go have dinner," he suggested.  "What would you like to have?"

        Nikita's devilish smile came into play, and she looked at him over her gold rimmed glasses.  "Well, I guess ‘you' would be out of the question."

        "Not necessarily," he said with a twitch of his mouth, "but I think for the moment, we should avoid the car."

        "Well, it does bring back memories of this morning."  Nikita leaned over to caress his muscular thigh with her hand.

        "Ni-ki-ta."  Michael shook his head and sighed again.  She was incorrigible.

        "Let's drive, Michael, and have dinner.  I haven't eaten all day."  Nikita started sucking on her own fingers.

        "We're not far from a little place called Romano's.. They have excellent Italian food.  Very Casual atmosphere.  Is that okay?" he asked as he tried to maintain his equanimity.  It was very difficult to do with Nikita caressing his thigh, but, no, her hand had now moved somewhat higher.  Michael knew he was going to miss another meal.

        Nikita's eyes met his and assented, "Italian will be fine, Michael."  Just looking into his  silver-green eyes made shivers ripple down Nikita's back.

        "Did I mention that they have rooms at Romano's as well?  It's sort of an Italian Inn," he said breathlessly as Nikita's hands were still moving recklessly.

        "That will be fine, too, Michael," she said as she draped one arm around his neck as he drove hurriedly toward their destination.

        They arrived in less than fifteen minutes, but by that time Michael and Nikita were desperate in  their need. Nikita's hands had made driving quite a chancy proposition, but Michael managed to avoid all major obstacles like other cars and people.  The inn was an old half-timbered Tudor style house on the outskirts of the city.  A small discreet sign said ‘Romano's.'

        "We should maybe check in first in order to obtain a room before we eat dinner." Michael suggested.

        "Oh, yeah. Very good idea, Michael.  Hurry."   Nikita leaned back and wondered where she would be now, if she had not wandered into the wrong dark alley 4 years ago. Was it really the wrong alley, or had their karma merely brought them together again?

        Michael hurried.  Since it was the tourist off-season, Michael had no difficulty in procuring a room for the night.  He brought the key back to the car, and said, "Come on. Our room is upstairs."

        "Michael, we don't have any luggage.  What'll they think?" Nikita giggled as she tugged her long blue coat around her body.

        "They'll think we're in love," Michael said as he stroked her face and brought her face to his to kiss.

        The room was spacious with exposed dark oak timbers.  A large old Elizabethan carved oak bed was the focal point.  Heavy damask draperies hung from the tester.  Matching gold draperies covered the oriel windows.

         Nikita looked around in amazement.  "It's beautiful, Michael.  I've never seen any place like this.  It's so quaint."  She put her arms around his neck, and he picked her up kissing her as he did.  Nikita wrapped her legs around Michael's waist as he carried her across the room in his strong arms, and laid her gently on the bed.  Nikita giggled as she sank deeply into the feather bed mattress.  "I feel like a princess, Michael." Nikita reached up and ran her hands through his wavy hair.  It was escaping from it's usual moussed appearance.  She let her hands trace his hair line pausing over his widow's peak.  She savored  the extravagance of being able to touch him. For tonight, he was hers.  No one knew where they were, and given just a little luck they wouldn't be disturbed.

        Michael lay beside Nikita, cupping her face in his free hand.  He cuddled her to him, luxuriating in her nearness and sweetness.  He began to kiss her mouth gently and tenderly.  He wanted this night to last forever.  Nikita seemed to understand his mood and did not press for more.  Slowly he unbuttoned her blouse baring her breasts to his view and his lips.  Nikita shivered as he caressed her breasts and abdomen with his hands and his lips.  Michael was shuddering with desire as well.  He wanted to claim her as his for all time, but for all he knew, this could be their last night together.

        Nikita pulled Michael's tee shirt over his head destroying forever the careful curls.  She marveled once again at the perfection of his chest and ran her hands languorously over his shoulders and down his chest to the waist of his trousers.

        Michael stopped her hands as she tried to unfasten the belt.  "No rush.  I want to look at you," he said softly as pulled her closer to him.  "I want to touch you all night, and kiss you.  I want to learn every inch of your body so that I never can lose you."

        "You're not going to lose me, Michael.  I'm not going anywhere without you again," Nikita vowed huskily.  "Take off the rest of your clothes.  I want to see all of you."

        Michael reluctantly released Nikita from his arms.  He stood and in one swift motion had removed his trousers.  His perfect body was revealed to her.  His arousal was dramatically visiblle.  He stood here and let her watch him for a moment.

        "Michael, don't you ever wear underwear?" she asked with a smile, because she already knew the answer.

        "No," he rasped.  The tension was building within, but he was not ready to start the dynamic contact that would ultimately end in the rush to release that tension.  "I seem to be underdressed while you are still overdressed.  Do you think some adjustment can be made here?" he asked her.

        Nikita teasingly obliged by slowly removing her leather mini-skirt.  White lace bikini briefs came off next, which were twirled and tossed and landed on Michael's shoulder.  "Well, we seem to be equal now, Michael."

        "Yes," he breathed as he picked her up and gave her tummy a long luscious lick.  Nikita's long legs wrapped around his waist.  "Yes," he said again and again the rest of the night as they made love again and again savoring each new discovery and moment.

        Michael shrugged and grinned as he grabbed the top sheet and wrapped it around his waist.  Nikita, who was left in all her blonde glory, scrambled to pull the damask spread over her body and heaved a pillow at Michael's retreating backside.

        Michael opened the door to  the maid with "Kate" emblazoned on her name tag.  "I've brought breakfast, sir.  You said 8AM exactly."  She took in the scene and blushed.  She was used to awakening guests, but the man who opened this door was a Greek god, except his ‘toga' seemed on the verge of slipping to the floor.  Oh, that it would, she thought.

        "Merci.  Over here by the window?"  He motioned where he wanted her to place the breakfast cart.  Nikita saw the maid blush and started to blush herself.  Only Michael could just stand there wrapped in a sheet and be so unaware of his impact on the maid.
 
        Kate left the room as quickly as she could.  Never had she felt she so intrusive as she did on this morning.  The very air was rife with the smell of their sex. Working the evening shift was much easier, she decided as she fled down the hall.

        "Umm, look what all we have, Michael.  This is wonderful.  I could eat a horse." Michael had ordered  the works:  Eggs Benedict, Juice, Cappuccino, strawberries,  jam, croissants.  Nikita attacked the fare with gusto.   "Finding time to eat is getting to be sort of a problem, isn't it, Michael?"  Nikita leered at Michael  as she saw him swallow an entire croissant in one voracious bite.

        "Mmm.  Oui, ma petite."  Michael downed his cup of cappuccino and looked into Nikita's eyes.  "Je t'aime, Nikita."  He reached and stroked her face and took the time to wipe jam from her cheek.  He sucked the jam off his fingers, and Nikita felt herself start shivering. with waves of desire.

        "I love you, Michael."  Nikita took his fingers to her mouth and sucked them using her tongue to tease each one.  She could feel Michael's body shudder as he became more aroused.  As one they stood.  Michael enfolded Nikita in his arms and simply held her. They cherished this minute that passion, sensuality, and love that joined into one perfect pure moment of bliss.  Tears spilled down Nikita's face and Michael's eyes were shinier than she had ever seen them. If only this moment could last forever was the thought in both their minds.
 

        Madeline saw Michael and Nikita together in her office at 9AM.   She gave them the game plan, and her attitude made it obvious that no deviation was expected. "Each of you will apologize to Operations, separately.  Nikita first, then you Michael. You will both admit to  inappropriate behavior and Nikita will also admit to insubordination.  There is too much going on right now for much more than that.  There will be a mission briefing at 1PM, and both of you will need to be there.  Nikita, I know you haven't had much downtime since your Colombian mission, but it is unavoidable given our resources at this time."

        Madeline's voice was calm and measured as always.  She observed them closely to gauge their emotional states.  Nikita looked radiant, and there was no way to hide that certain look of having just made love.  Michael simply looked wary as he always did in her presence.

        Nikita looked at Michael.  His eyes met hers, and she intuitively knew he wanted her to make no response.  "All right," Michael answered.  As one they turned together and started to leave.

        "Michael, one moment please."  Madeline called him back.  Michael let a silent sigh escape and  turned around to face her.  She was smiling.  "I assume from the way Nikita looks this morning that the two of you had a good evening after you left me last night."

        "Madeline, would knowing the answer to that, help you accomplish your next mission?"  Michael challenged her need to know the details of his night with Nikita, and he couldn't resist using her own words against her.

        A genuine smile crossed Madeline's face.  "Touche, Michael.  I don't need an answer when I can see it in front of me.  That's all."  Madeline turned back to her computer screen, and Michael was finally able to leave her office.
 

         Operations paced as he talked to George at the Agency.   "I know we have to act now, George, but I have to have time to put together a mission profile that can succeed.  I can't just throw operatives at the target and 'hope' it gets resolved.   We don't have the manpower to waste on a scatter-gun approach. "  He paused as he listened, "I'll let you know when we're ready," he said as the connection was broken.

        Operations looked up and saw Nikita standing in the door.  "I can come back," she started, not really wanting to have to apologize.

        "No, what is it?  Madeline told me you wanted to speak to me."  There was the sound of irritation in his voice, and Nikita could tell he was under a lot of stress.

        "I just want to apologize for the way I acted yesterday and for my behavior earlier as well."  Nikita's voice died as she finished the sentence.  She swallowed and made another attempt,  "my behavior was inappropriate yesterday morning and insubordinate yesterday afternoon, and for that I am sorry.  I accept full responsibility for all my actions."   There, she thought, I've crawled on my belly, and her eyes showed her thoughts as they usually did.

        "Do you think I have changed my mind about the advisability of  your relationship with Michael?  I haven't!'  Operations cold blue eyes bore into hers.

        "Do you  still want to cancel one of us?"  Nikita couldn't believe her ears. Surely he would not hold to the statement of the day before.  An apology hadn't served any purpose that she could see.

        "As I said yesterday, Nikita.  That will be up to the two of you.  If you continue to perform according to Section standards, there should not be a problem, but I do not ever want to hear about anything remotely resembling yesterday morning's incident again." Operations face grew red  as he finished his statement.  "That will be all, Nikita."

        Nikita nodded, turned and left Operations office without another word.  She continued down the hall, and as she passed Michael she gave him a subtle wink and half  smile.  Michael breathed a sigh of relief as he headed to Operation's office himself.  At least she appeared to be following the game plan, he thought
 

                Michael walked into Therese's office at the stroke of 10 and sat down in his usual place.  He pulled out the PAS419 unit and activated it.  He did this naturally and with economy of motion.  Therese knew she had never seen a man so graceful, but stopped her conscious thoughts from taking her any farther.  "Good morning, Michael.  It is good to see that you are here.  I never know for sure, given your line of work."  She motioned at the coffee that was waiting for him.

        He gratefully took a sip and smiled, "It is the same for me.  I am on ‘administrative duties' for the next six weeks, so I should be able to make these appointments.  I only missed because of a mission that required me to be available for tactical. Nikita was on that mission with another Team Leader.  We were being tested to see if we could both function apart.  She was tested doubly, because she and the Team Leader had a difficult relationship.  He is very resentful of me as well, and there was a lot of harassing both in Section and on the mission."

        "Had,  Michael?" she asked.  "You used the past tense when speaking of their
relationship and the present tense when speaking of his and your relationship."

        "Well, Nikita saved his life by taking out shooters behind him, and now he is ‘fond' of her, I'm told.  That fondness has not extended to me."  He smiled ruefully.

        "Does that make you jealous, Michael?"  Therese prodded,  wanting him to bare his soul further.  After all that is why he's here, she thought.

 "Not at this point the our relationship, but I would have earlier, when we were so busy hiding how we felt from each other and trying to hide it from everyone else.  It has been very difficult for me to open up to Nikita, and I am only getting used to the idea that we can share our feelings--at least with each other."

        "Let's see what we have covered thus far.  You have talked about your wife and son and their loss.  You have talked some about your feelings for Nikita, your earlier jealousy when she was involved with the man who turned out to be a child slaver.  You have told me how you manipulated her feelings for you in order to keep her from trying to escape the Agency in order to save her life."

        " How did you get to the point where you could actually share your feelings. There is a big  gap between manipulating ‘her' feelings and sharing ‘your' feelings with her.  Tell me about the change, Michael."  Therese knew this might take more that one visit, but Michael would gain immeasurably from the retelling and the re-evaluation that the passage of time could bring.

        Michael sighed and sipped  his coffee, stalling for time and the words.

        "The first time I shared my true feelings with Nikita was in the middle of the biggest manipulation that our agency ever perpetrated on her.  As always I was the tool." The anguish sounded in his voice.  He looked at Therese with raw emotion in his eyes and abject self-disgust written all over his handsome face.

        "The Agency was under attack by a terrorist organization.  The complete directory of our agents had fallen into their hands, and they were killing our operatives all over the world.  Nikita survived such an attack herself.  We were all called in and briefed.  We were told that we would not be told the location of the new substation, so that we if we were tortured, we would not be able to reveal the location.  At the end of this briefing, I was called to see Operations and Madeline alone.  I was given the rest of the mission profile, as well as the location of the new substation.  As Nikita and I left together, I told her the location, just in case something should happen to me.  She was puzzled, but accepted what I told her."

        "She wasn't suspicious of your telling her," Therese asked with a raised eyebrow.

        "No, not after her initial response.  We quickly located our target, and he led us to the location of the organization we sought.  Nikita took point and was captured.  When I heard the explosion, I killed the target I held and went in to rescue her.  I asked for back up, but the profile was enforced.  I was to go in alone.   I was then captured as well.  Nikita had already been tortured.  They had put her face in a cage of rats and..... .....fired.....the.....rats.   They.....had........chewed......her......face." Michael could barely stand to describe the scene he had found.  "Her beautiful face was covered in the bites of those rats, but she had not broken.  She was so brave."   Michael took a deep breath and continued.  "They had all these monitors still attached to her, and when they threw me into the cage next to hers, her heart monitor went wild. It was audible to the Red Cell's leader and to everyone.  After a little more research in the stolen directory, they determined who I was that there was more that just a mentor and trainee connection.  Nikita and I were kept in cages next to each other.  During that time in the cages, I told her that we were not going to get out alive, and that she was the only part of me that wasn't dead--and this was true.  She was and is my light.  In the end, after I was tortured, then threatened with drugs that would turn me mad, Nikita broke and gave them the location to save me."

        Michael took a ragged breath as he remembered the moment.  "I shouted, ‘Nikita, No!.'  I still don't know if that was part of the manipulation, or if I really didn't want her to reveal break and reveal the location.  It was ‘necessary' that they know the location, and they had to believe they had broken Nikita, because it was a trap.  I was placed back in a cage and once they left us alone, I had the means for our escape secreted in my clothing.  Nikita was shocked and wanted to contact the substation immediately to warn them that she had given up the location.  When she realized by my response that this was the plan all along, she was disgusted with me.  She also took out the lead of Red Cell.  He underestimated Nikita.  Her profile in the directory, said she would not kill in cold blood, and he gambled that she would not kill him.  I supposed that Nikita thought having rats eat her face was provocation enough.  Works for me."

        He smiled a rueful, heartbreaking smile.  "As we escaped, Nikita was shot. When she was in the Medlab, I waited there with her until I was told she was out of danger and would survive.  I  went through all the agonies of losing Simone all again, as I watched over her still white form.  As she lay there medicated,  I leaned over her and told her that ‘it wasn't all a lie' and kissed her on the lips.  She could not hear me, but I knew for once I had told her the truth about how I felt.  And for the first time, I could admit to myself how I really felt and how much it hurt me to have to hurt her.  I made a silent vow to myself to remain close to her side and somehow come to win and deserve her love."

        Of course, after she recovered, she made it very plain that I was someone she would only tolerate because she had no choice.  The light that she had brought to me began to dim, until there was only a flicker that I did my best to guard and protect so that it would not go out all together." Michael sipped on coffee again and made a wry face at its cold temperature.  "There is so many more things between then and now.  I am still not sure how it happened."

        Therese  looked at Michael and saw that he was still tormented and not relieved by the telling of this experience.  "Michael, my 12:00 appointment is canceled.  Would you like to continue?"

        "Yes," he admitted.  "I would be grateful for more of your time today."

        "What happened next, Michael?"

        "Nikita kept things on a very professional level.  She was still on my team, but she seemed to be deteriorating before my eyes until, she totally blew a mission because she could not cancel someone she had been ordered to cancel.  There was no way to rescue this innocent.  He had entirely too much information to let him live, and he was wired with explosives.  There were incoming hostiles and we were greatly outnumbered.  I told her to cancel him in order to contain the damage already done.  She couldn't do it.  She just couldn't."

        "From what I understand, she talked with M about the ‘mishap' and was plainly suicidal from what M told me.  The  tensions caused by the dichotomy of emotions within Nikita were at an explosive stage.  I could almost see her thoughts reeling within her head. I went to her apartment, and I am certain that my interruption kept her from committing suicide.  I told her that I couldn't protect her anymore.  She asked why I ever did.  I told her she'd be dead if I hadn't.  She responded by saying that I seemed to care more about that thence did. ‘Why can't you just do the job?' I asked her.  I couldn't tell her that I loved her more than my life itself.  That was why I really cared."

        "'Because I'm not who you think I am.  I never killed anybody before I came into the Agency' is what  she told me.  I had never been able to admit to myself that she was anything but a homeless kid who killed a cop, but this night, I knew it was the truth.  I ran my hands through her hair and pulled her close to me.  I told her that I couldn't help her and that ‘I wished things could be different for us.'  We held each other that night.  It was not a sensual moment but a moment of truth and sharing and understanding.  We both were comforted, but I remained uneasy about the future, especially Nikita's future."

        Therese held up a hand for him to pause.  "Tina," she called, "More coffee please."

Again Tina managed to bring it in without spilling or tripping because ‘he' was still there.

"Then what happened, Michael?"  she probed.
        "There was a final mission to eliminate the organization that had kidnapped the young explosives expert, that Nikita had not been able to cancel later.  He was to be eliminated period.  The mission profile was given to me this time.  Normally, I collect all the data, and develop the profile myself as team leader.  Six abeyance operatives were to be used.  In other words, it was a suicide mission.  I felt very uneasy about this profile being dumped in my lap, especially since I was the only one other that M and O who knew the true mission.  I felt a contingency plan might be needed, and it was. Nikita came down the hall as mission loading started.  She was the sixth operative.  Even though I thought I was prepared in my mind that she might be on the team, the shock of seeing her come down that hall rocked me to my core.  This was the end for Nikita and me.  At the end of this mission, she would either be free of the Agency or dead."

        "After our moment together, Nikita had pulled herself together.  It was obvious from her attitude and the way she looked. She even touched my arm and smiled as she went by.  After she left me for the van, I turned and there was Madeline watching me. Whether the message came subliminally or I just wanted to believe that Madeline meant for me to help Nikita escape, there was something in her eyes that said it was all up to me now.  It was another test as well, and I couldn't afford to fail it or Nikita."

        Michael's voice began to falter as he related the rest of his story.  He sipped his coffee taking comfort in it's heat and stimulant.   "The mission went as planned.  There was no exit strategy for the abeyance operatives, but I had given Nikita a PDA communicator.  I told her we could communicate from anywhere in case her comm unit should fail, and sent her off to die in the explosion if she did not listen to me."

        "The PDA was programmed to beep and send her the message.  ‘Suicide mission, you're free, don't return.'  There was a minor rebellion in the tactical van when one of the tactical ops. realized none of the other operatives would be returning. Nikita had always been a favorite of his, and I had to pull a gun on him to keep to the mission profile.  We all held our breaths as the countdown reached zero.  The explosion destroyed the site, and I could not know until later whether Nikita had made it out in time.  I called Operations to let them know the mission was completed.  Those were the bitterest words I ever spoke.  The taste of them in my mouth was as bitter as bile."

        "The most ridiculous scene of all was when Operations said he knew Nikita was my material, and that sometimes we form bonds.  He ‘hoped' I understood their position.  I said, ‘Of course." and left.  Finally I could send a message to Nikita. ‘Nikita, are you there?"  I must have sent this encrypted message dozens of times daily the first few weeks.  I could not give  up.  I continued to send the message, no matter where I was or what mission I had.

        "There was never any answer.  I began to lose hope, and the small flicker of  light that I had guarded for so long, began to die with the rest of me.  The blackness I felt within my heart and mind was all encompassing and the nightmares overtook me again.  Always I could see the flames of the explosion, Nikita and Simone.  They would both hold out their hands to me and beg me to help them, and I would be rooted to the ground, powerless to move and they would disappear in the flames."

        The despair he felt at that time was mirrored on his face.  Therese almost despaired as she saw it herself.  So much pain, so little true control in his life.

        Michael interrupted Therese's flow of thought.  "I have to stop.  There is a 1PM briefing, I have to attend.  I am sorry."  Therese watched him submerge his grief and despair and channel his energies to leave, and was amazed at the physical changes he made as he made interior mental ones.

        "Michael, I know the weekend is upon us, but here is my beeper number, if you need, you can call me.  We are at a crucial point, and I hate that we have to stop at this juncture.  Unfortunately, it is one of the realities of therapy--the limits of time."  She gave him a regretful smile and a Gallic shrug of the shoulders.

        "Till next time," he said softly.  He turned gracefully and left the office.
 

        "McClure has become  fixated on Nikita since the last mission. I don't think he's thinking too clearly when it comes to her.  First he couldn't stand her or Michael.  You heard how he baited Michael about Nikita during the last mission.  Now he goes mooning around like he's in love with her since she saved his life on the that mission."

        "So!  Is Section One becoming the Love Connection?  Since when do their personal feelings enter into the mission profile?"  Operations was still upset over earlier events with Michael and Nikita.

        "These relationships have always had their place in mission profiles, and you well know it!  We have used them,  especially in the case of  Michael and Nikita, regularly to obtain the results we wanted, and we've been very successful."  Madeline was showing more spirit in her conversation with Operations than anyone else in Section ever saw. "You know, denial is not one of your more favorable characteristics.  Sticking your head in the sand won't make the relationships go away.   I happen to think that the instability of McClure's feelings might jeopardize the mission and not give us the results we expect."

        "Do you recommend placing him in abeyance?" Operations asked heatedly.

        "Of course not.  He's an  irritation to Nikita right now, but he is still our best team leader after Michael.  There is no one else available that has the experience in developing and completing a mission profile that McClure has.  Nikita will have to manage as she did in the last mission.  If you remember, she did quite  well."  Madeline was changing her position as she spoke.

        "Yes, she did perform well," Operations admitted.  "Quite well."

        Operations walked out to the team briefing area.  Nikita was already there, leaning back in her chair, looking tired and thinner.  He wondered if she had lost some weight recently.  Her cheekbones certainly looked more prominent.

        Nikita ‘was' tired and thinner and she felt it.  She and Michael barely managed to eat at all.  The instantaneous combustion they felt whenever in each other's presence flamed as soon as they were alone.  Food, sleep--what were they? Nikita was wearing slim black slacks with a silky black top.  Black shades completed her ensemble today.  Black for a black mood.  Nikita was not ready to go back to work.  She thought she could use some more down time, but it was obviously not to be.

        McClure picked this time to lean over Nikita's shoulder and say conspiratorially, "Nikita, I guess we're going out again.  We made a pretty good team last time. Don'tcha think?"

 Nikita jumped at the suddenness and closeness of McClure's presence. Personally, she still couldn't stand him, but that wouldn't do to let him know at this juncture.  "Oh, hi, McClure, I didn't hear you coming.  Yeah, I guess we are."  Nikita adjusted her shades so that McClure couldn't see the disdain in her eyes.

        This exchange had another interested observer besides Operations.  Michael had just walked into the briefing area to take a seat.  Only Nikita could tell that the rigidity of his stance was a prelude to anger.  Michael could have cared less that McClure had always been resentful of Michael's  apparent ‘fair-haired boy' status with Operations, but McClure's new ‘interest' in Nikita was something Michael would not tolerate easily.

        Operations watched the interchange between Nikita and McClure, and also took note of Michael's ‘no-response' response.  Madeline may be the expert in Psych-Ops, but Operations had known Michael long enough to know when the younger operative was highly pissed.  He found it amusing that Michael thought he could hide all his emotions under a blank stare.  The blank stare itself was a dead giveaway.

        Operations hit the control button that brought up the holographic image of a handsome man who appeared to be in his forties.  "This is Simon DeVry.  He is a high-level arms dealer with some very interesting connections in the upper echelons of French politics."

        "What are those connections," Michael asked, forgetting that he would not be leading this mission.

        McClure glared across the table at Michael.  His animosity toward Michael was obvious to everyone. As always, Michael ignored him, preferring to focus on the briefing.

        "DeVry's wife Sophie is the sister-in-law  of Gerard  Montand, France's Minister of Finance.  Montand's wife Helene and Sophie are sisters. We feel that this relationship makes for a substantial conflict on interest on the part of Minister Montand, given DeVry's other contacts in the terrorist community, and we would like to disrupt the flow of information and arms as well as gain control over DeVry and Montand.

        "And the plan to take him out?  McClure asked.

        "We're not going to take him ‘out.'   We're going to use him as a pipeline of information.  Money is one of his weaknesses.  He will work  for whoever pays him."

        "And his other weaknesses?"  Michael asked, fearing he already knew the answer.

        "Oh, yes, he likes tall blondes," Operations smile was wolf-like as he turned it on Michael.

        "Who doesn't like tall blondes?"  McClure asked as he gave Nikita a slight leer.

         Oh, brother, Nikita thought.  I'm going to be fighting off McClure and DeVry on this mission.  Lovely, just lovely.  Nikita slid farther down into her seat.

        "Michael, you will be Team Leader and you will be on site in Paris." Operations had obviously made some personnel and profile changes since talking to Madeline.  No matter.  He would use this mission to punish Michael and Nikita, and Madeline would just have to get over it.

        "What?"  Both Michael and McClure answered at once.

        Operations continued as if he had not heard the surprise expressed by his two main operatives, "Nikita, you will pose as an upper level American Embassy staff assistant, and you will seduce DeVry so that we have incriminating material with which to blackmail him.  McClure, you will be posing as Nikita's attentive fiancé.  Michael, you will continue to run tactical from Paris.  I want you on site, and you will do ‘whatever' necessary to distract DeVry's wife.  This mission should only take the weekend.  Any longer and we will run risk of discovery."

        "What about Montand?"  Nikita asked.  "How exactly do we gain control over him?"

        "The incriminating evidence that you, Nikita, will recover from DeVry's computer should be sufficient to bring Minister Montand under control along with DeVry.  Study the profiles in your PDA's.  The plane for Paris leaves in an hour, so you have no time to waste."  Operations could barely contain his need to chuckle aloud.  This was really a minor mission as missions went, but it was the perfect opportunity to twist Michael and Nikita a bit.

        The operatives all left the briefing area, each going in separate directions. Nikita exchanged one glance with Michael, but all she received was another blank
stare.

        Madeline paced in her office.  She was not happy with Operations and his improvising against her express recommendations.  Luckily, this was a low-level security mission.  It was supposed be a cold operation, but it wouldn't be the first time that an apparently simple one turned disastrous, and in Madeline's mind disaster was written all over this one.

        Michael, Nikita, McClure and the backup team were all on the plane as it streaked through clear blue skies to Paris.  Nikita took her seat first, expecting Michael to sit beside her, but it was McClure who took that seat.  Michael took another behind and across from them.  "I would advise everyone to get some rest during the flight," Michael stated.  He refused to show his annoyance at McClure.  Nikita could handle McClure, and he had no doubts about her love.  At least that much had been gained in the last few weeks.  They were both much more secure in their feelings for each other.  With these thoughts in his mind, Michael simply took his own advice, shut his eyes and attempted to sleep.

        Nikita was mildly annoyed that Michael was not beside her, but she knew better than to show it.  McClure was an integral part of the team, and there was no point in antagonizing him.  Nikita was delighted that Michael was going.  That had certainly been a shock to all of them.  Only Madeline, Operations and Nikita knew about Michael's daily appointments with the psychiatrist, but apparently this wasn't supposed to take long. Nikita sighed and settled down to nap.

        "Nikita, what's the deal with you and Michael anyway?"  McClure couldn't stand to watch her sleep any longer.  The whiteness of her graceful neck was absolutely getting to him.  He didn't dare touch her, but he had to talk to her.

        "What?" Nikita had just dozed off.  What an inane  question to ask and awaken someone in the process.  Nikita looked at McClure.  "Why would you ask me something that is so patently none of your concern?"

        "I just thought that given Michael's history with women, you might be a little more cautious.  You don't seem the type to get sucked up by his ‘charm.'"  McClure knew he was risked alienating her, but he couldn't resist the chance to denigrate Michael.

        "Sorry, Mac, you must have me confused with someone who gives a damn."  Nikita turned away and appeared to go back to sleep.  Michael's history with women, she thought.  Why shouldn't he have a history with women?   He was handsome, virile, and heaven knew a wonderful lover.  She was sure there were women ‘before' Simone. If he had been with anyone since she had entered Section, he had been very discreet.  Michael's seduction of Lisa Fanning had been part of ‘the job,' and not under his control, if he wanted to live.  She had not heard a word of gossip about him, and in Section where information was as highly prized as gold, there would have been some.  She knew that people had whispered about them often enough, and that was long before there was ‘anything' to the speculations.

        "Ask him about Madeline, Nikita."  McClure prodded again.  "Ask him about the special training he received."

        "Give it a rest, Mac.  I'm not interested in whatever you're selling." Nikita unfastened her seat belt and moved to the other side of the plane.  She was not going to sit there and listen to McClure spew his poison.  In other circumstances, Nikita knew she could have been attracted to Mac.  He was a little older than Michael, tall, dark blonde hair and blue eyes.  He was handsome as was Michael, but in a more conventional way.  He lacked Michael's uniqueness of features that when added together produced a breathtaking and beautiful man.

         If appearance were Nikita's only criterion, the choice would not have been easy, but given the interior man, Michael won easily in Nikita's mind.  Mac thought he could dominate Michael by constantly pointing at Michael's faults, but Nikita knew that Michael, whatever his history with women, had a heart.  True his heart had been encased and shackled by pain and tragedy, and Nikita was only now learning how to soften and free that lonely heart.  Nikita sighed as she went to sleep.  She missed Michael even though he was dozing across the aisle from her.  She missed being in his arms.

        Michael had tried to sleep, but he had been unable to eradicate the vision of a lovely naked Nikita from his mind.  He had heard  McClure come on to Nikita and had heard her responses.  McClure had attempted to place doubt  in Nikita's mind, and Michael was not sure how much Nikita trusted him even yet.  Finally, Michael slept.
 

        Nikita and McClure, her fiancé, as a part of their cover were living together in a small apartment on rue de Blancmange.  Michael's cover as an international art dealer decreed that he stay in a luxurious suite at the Georges Cinq.  Nikita was not thrilled to say the least.  Nikita imagined Michael and herself ensconced in that suite, but the tiny apartment where Mac and she  would be ‘living' for the duration of the mission certainly lacked the cachet and ambiance of the Georges Cinq. Not to mention that she would be with Mac and not Michael.

        "Well, looks like wonder boy got the plum assignment along with the swank lodgings, but I've got you, gorgeous."  Mac did his impression of what he thought was charm, but Nikita found it sadly lacking and boring.

        "Mac, you don't have anything but a roommate for the weekend.  You keep your mind focused on the mission, and that does not include hitting on me when we're alone.  Do you understand me?  Are you reading my lips?"  Nikita was about ready to deck McClure, and if he so much as touched her when they weren't in profile, she would take him down.

        Meanwhile at the Georges Cinq, Michael settled into his suite.  His evening clothes were hung in the closet and were perfection.  Madeline always knew exactly what to send onmissions, but this tuxedo was his own tailored to fit his muscular body and other individual requirements--guns and other armaments often needed special fittings to accommodate them.

        Michael checked in with Birkoff. "Birkoff, we are in place at our individual lodgings.  Did they have to be so far apart?"

        "Hey, Michael, I don't make the reservations.  That's somebody else's job description."  Whew, he thought, Michael was a little testy about being so far from Nikita.  Hmmm.  Wonder what the ‘real' story is there, he mused as he worked on sequencing for the evening activities.

        "We are scheduled to attend an embassy gala tonight.  Nikita and McClure will attend as a couple, and I will be there to distract Madame DeVry.  Do you have any other intel we can use."

        "Yeah, Michael, it seems that Madame DeVry and Madame Montand like to swing a little.  You might be more than a little distracted yourself.  Watch out, Michael. Running tactical and the two sisters might be a little much for even you."  Birkoff laughed and Michael swore.

        "Michael."  It was Madeline.  "In spite of Mr. Birkoff's levity, this complication could compromise the mission.  Are you sure you can perform to our expectations, or do you need backup?"

        "What?" Michael was aghast Madeline's double entendre, whether intentional or not.  "I will be fine. The plan is in place.  It will be executed.  McClure is ready to assist with any ‘extra' distraction that may be needed."

        "Whatever is necessary, Michael."

        "Of course, Madeline."  There were times Michael was merely unnerved by Madeline, but other times, like now, he came close to hating her and her machinations for Section One's goals.

        Nikita finished dressing for the gala evening.  Her dress was elegant and understated.  Nikita loved dressing in black.  Her gown left one white shoulder bare, fit her snugly through the bodice, waist and hips, then starting just below the hips flaring slightly.  Most of her back was bare as well.  McClure appreciated her fair form from his vantage point where he was sitting on the bed.   "Well, princess, you surely do clean up good."

        Nikita gave him a ‘look,' and said, "If that's supposed to be a compliment, thank you."  She continued to tuck stray strands of her hair into her smooth coiffure, but gave up and let them fall as they would.  The effect was okay she supposed, but she knew Michael would have been hovering around her trying to kiss her where the strands graced her long neck.  And instead here she was stuck with Mac, who if he continued to leer at her, was going to be missing some major male equipment.

        Michael, on the other hand, had the task of ‘diverting' the attention of her target's wife.  Well, he was certainly well-suited for that mission.  It was one of his specialties! Men just don't seem to mind that sort of activity.  Nikita doubted that Michael ever felt ‘cheap' after such a mission.

        It was as if Mac could read Nikita's mind, or maybe just her body language. "Nikita, don't you mind Michael seducing other women?  Don't you get just a little bit jealous?  I mean he's supposed to be so good at it."

        "McClure, you need to drop this line of conversation.  I find it immensely boring, and I don't care what Michael does on the job any more than I care what ‘you' do.     We're here for a purpose, all of us."

        "What about Michael?  Doesn't he get jealous?"  Mac could not give up.  He knew he was digging himself deeper and deeper, but lacked the wisdom to just shut up.

        "I have no idea what Michael feels about anything.  We haven't discussed it. It is not germane to the mission we have before us."  She walked over to him and smiled her dangerous and seductive smile and said, "Mac, just shut up."  In order to reinforce her point, Nikita knocked him back on the bed, grabbed him by the testicles and gave a little squeeze.  "I'm sick of you and your questions and innuendoes.  Do you understand me?" Nikita's hands were strong, and she added just a little more pressure.

        "Oowww.  Nikita!  For pity's sake,"  Mac's face grew pasty white as he moaned. Nikita released her hold.  McClure began to retch and gag.  Nikita went back to adjusting her hair.  She felt a lot better now, but she  couldn't say the same for Mac though, she thought to herself.

        "Are you ready, dear fiancé?"  She asked a few minutes later.  "The limo will be here in about five minutes."  She gave him a sweet fiancée type smile as she picked up her wrap and evening bag.  Mac merely glared in response and stood up slowly.
 

        Michael visually scanned the mingling guests at the French Embassy.  He had memorized the .jpg's of  both Madame DeVry and her sister Madame Montand from his PDA download.  They were both very beautiful women.  Sophie DeVry was according to the intel was petite 5-1, weighed about 45 kg., She had dark brown hair and brown eyes.  Her sister Helene Montand, wife of the Finance Minister, was taller about 5-5 with the same dark brown hair and eyes, but with her larger bone structure she weighed about 55 kg. Unfortunately, that simple description fitted over half the women in the room. Both women were very striking, but again the large elegantly appointed ballroom was filled with striking women.

        Michael moved gracefully in his evening dress, and many women were giving him appreciative glances.  He even knew a few of them from his travels as an art dealer.  He spied Katrina van der Hoot, an old acquaintance on the art scene, who knew everybody who was anybody.  She was smiling at him, and he knew she would point him in the right direction.  He wanted to waste no more time on visual reconnaissance.
 
        "Michel, mon cher.  Where have you been for so long?  It's been simply ages since I last saw you."  She made her way to him and placed a proprietary hand on his arm.  She was lovely, but never had been to his taste.

        He smiled, "Katrina, cheri, I have been in the Americas a great deal.  They are just simply starved for art there.  And you, how have you been?  Still married?"

        "Oui, you know we don't bother to divorce here in France.  We are too civilized for that.  We just have affaires de couer, darling."  She arched an eyebrow at him.

        "Je desole, I am looking for someone, but don't see her.  So many beautiful women here tonight, it is difficult to find the one I seek."  Michael's eyes glittered greenly in the bright lights of the ballroom.

 "Oh, Michel, you have not changed a bit, I see.  Let me help you, I know everyone, but you already know that don't you darling."  Katrina patted his arm and glanced around.

        "Katrina, you fill me with shame, but yes, I do need your assistance.  I have so little time in Paris this visit.  Sophie DeVry?  Have you seen her here tonight," he asked.

        "Michel, you are very brave, mon cher.  Does the word barracuda ring any bells? Ah, there she is with her sister Madame Montand.  They are standing by the French doors. Bon chance, Michel.  You are going to need it."  Katrina's tinkling laugh grated and made the hairs stand on Michael's neck as she wandered in search of further prey.

        Michael had not seen Nikita until he turned to make his way toward the two sisters.   Nikita walked down the marble stairs with McClure at her side.  Mac was already well into character, playing the attentive fiancé to Nikita.  Nikita was into character as well, but more dignified about it, and she looked so incredibly lovely that it was all he could do avoid making eye contact with her--eye contact hell!  He wanted to make love to her on the spot, touch that white skin, remove that sinful black dress. Can't go there, at least not now, he thought.    Oh, well, he knew he'd better be on mark for his target(s) of the evening.  "Birkoff," he said softly.  "I have identified Sophie DeVry and her sister, and I am moving."

        "Yeah, Michael, I hear ya.  Man, you really do have the moves."  Birkoff chuckled into Michael's comm unit.

        "Focus, Birkoff," said Michael, who was not amused.
 

        Nikita, too, surveyed the crowd looking for her target M. DeVry.  In the one-sided top of her dress, she had her own secret weapon.  It was not a part of the mission profile, but Doc in Medlab had given it to her anyway.  It was a topical form of a new benzodiazepine, as effective and potent as Versed, but not requiring a intravenous injection.  Nikita planned on using it to "deactivate"  her target for the evening while she went through his computer system.  The real trick would be to meet him, seduce him, and convince him to take her to his home, so that she could breach his computer system.  All Michael had to do was ‘entertain' the wife and from the looks of it, her sister, too.

        Mac was whispering in her ear.  "Look at Mr. Charm, Nikita. Look at him go."

        "Yeah, whatever," she smiled pretending to be besotted with her fiancé. "Let's dance, Darling."

        Mac led her onto the floor into a smooth waltz.  Well, he does know how to dance, Nikita thought.  If he would just shut up, I might be able to tolerate him for a few more minutes.

        Mac took advantage of the dance to pull Nikita close to his chest and caress her breast.  Nikita smiled and said in her most charming tone of voice, "Mac, you can touch my shoulder, you can touch my waist, but if you touch my breast one more time, I'm going to cancel you.  Right here, right now.  Do I make myself perfectly clear?"
 
        "Nikita, you just have no sense of fun.  Your Michael over there is about to seduce two women, and you're acting like a stick in the mud."

        "McClure, focus!  We're on a mission here, not a date!"  Nikita hissed.  Echoes of Birkoff cackling sounded in her comm unit.  Nikita took the opportunity to glance in Michael's direction as they moved about the dance floor.  Conversation with his two targets seemed to be going well.  He was already guiding them out of the main room, as they smiled and laughed at his bon mots.

        "Come on, Mac.  We need to mingle.  You need to get lost.  I see my target by the fireplace.  Why don't you see if Michael needs any help."  Nikita smiled at Mac as she started making her way toward DeVry.  "Moving,  Birkoff. The target is in sight."
 

        Sophie and Helene needed little encouragement from Michael to leave the room for more private conversation.  Sophie had spied him before Helene.   "Umm. Helene, there is the most beautiful man I have ever seen, and he is coming this way. Oh, my, but he looks a little dangerous," she sighed.

        Helene turned around to see for herself.  "Oui, and look and the way he walks, like a jungle cat.  And that hair.  I cannot wait until I get my hands into that wavy mass." Helene felt the heat rise as she watched him approach.

        Michael was aware of their interest, but was pretending to be wandering aimlessly around and carrying a glass of wine which he sipped intermittently.  Michael sipped again, and as he did both pairs of eyes locked on his as he surveyed them over his glass of wine. He swallowed and smiled, but they did not notice that the smile did not reach those glittering gray-green eyes.  Wordless signals passed between them, and it was settled.  As he introduced himself, Michael guided them into the next room which was a spacious library.

         Leather bound volumes shared the many shelves with objet d'art of many origins. There was one glass-fronted shelf that contained rare and priceless Chinese porcelain. Brocade settees were spaced around the room as well.  Over the ornate fireplace, was an elegant gilt-framed trumeau which reached almost to the ceiling.  In other words, it was a typical French Louis XIV-XV library/sitting room.  A rare rococo bureau plat trimmed in elaborate ormolu was the centerpiece of the room, and probably the most valuable piece of furniture there.  The room was also too well trafficked for any kind of dalliance, and Michael knew that dalliance was definitely in order with these two.  He had to keep them, especially Sophie, out of Nikita's way.

        Sophie suggested, "Michel, would you like a tour?  There are some lovely paintings and pieces throughout the embassy proper, as well as some lovely little works of art in the private areas.  N'est pas, Helene?"

        "Oui, Michel.  Since you are an art dealer, you should definitely see the private area," seconded Helene with simpering enthusiasm.
 
        In his comm unit Michael could hear Birkoff choking with laughter,  "Man, you don't even have to talk, do you.  They are ready to lay it on you.  God, Michael, you have it made.  You're my hero."  Birkoff continued to wheeze and giggle into Michael's ear. Michael continued to smile and make small talk as they continued on the tour.

        After 10 minutes of walking through long halls that were  wood-paneled, elaborately painted  and decorated in the French style, Sophie and Helene opened the door to a small room.  While it was almost tiny, it was elaborately decorated as well in the French manner.  An une bateau lit was the main piece of furniture of the room.  As Michael looked around ostensibly for the artwork, Sophie placed her arms around his neck and began to kiss his mouth.  Helene began to remove his  tuxedo jacket.

        "He carries a gun, Sophie," Helene whispered as she carefully placed his jacket aside and began caressing his back.

        "Yes, I can tell," said Sophie as she rubbed her body against Michael's.

        "No, I mean a real one.  But then you said he looked dangerous," she giggled as she started to remove his holster.

        "No, let me do that.  I wouldn't want you to hurt anyone."  Michael disentangled himself from Sophie's hold long enough to remove his holster and gun.  "I'll just place them over here out of the way," he said with great charm.

        Helene then took over kissing him, and Sophie began popping the studs from his
shirt, and they went flying everywhere.  "Voila! The shirt is history, soon the cummerbund, and the trousers.  Sophie then started running her hands up and down his back.  "Umm.  You have some interesting scars, mon cher.  Are you  sure you're just an art dealer, Michel?  You are looking more and more like a terrorist to me," she said as she began to envision a fantasy in her mind.

        Michael gave a feeble laugh.  That is certainly too close for comfort he thought. And Birkoff gave a, "Woof, woof" into the comm unit. Cancellation  and Birkoff were two words that came to his mind, while he was still coherent.

        By now, Helene and Sophie had Michael's trousers removed and folded on a chair. Boxers or briefs were not at issue, as he was not wearing any.  Sophie was behind Michael massaging his buttocks, while Helene was taking similar action in the front. Michael moaned.  These two certainly knew what they were doing.  All he had to do was keep them occupied for a couple of hours.  Mon dieu.
 

        Nikita walked slowly over to her target, M. Devry.  "Birkoff, does Michael
have Madame Devry out of the way," she asked quietly.

        "Oh, yeah.  I don't think you're going to have to worry about them for quite
a while," Birkoff could not help that he sniggered as he said this.

        Nikita sighed and wandered over to Simon DeVry and looked at him with her
enormous aquamarine eyes, and said, "I'm Nikita, and you're the most handsome
man in this room.  Why don't I know you already?"

        Simon chuckled, "That's supposed to be ‘my' pickup line young lady.  Why
don't I know you?"  He straightened up and preened a little at her interest.

        "Because I was just posted to Paris, and I've only been here a week."  Nikita
fluttered her eyelashes and gave him her most seductive smile.  "Paris is a
beautiful city, but I haven't seen very much of it yet."

        "I'm Simon DeVry and I am an importer.  My sister-in-law is the wife of the
Finance Minister, which is why they allow me to come to these parties
sometimes. Unfortunately, they tend to be quite boring too.  One sees the same people over and over."

        "I'm sure, M. Devry," Nikita agreed.

        "Simon, please call me Simon.  It's much more friendly.   Don't you think?"
 
        "Yes, Simon.  And I think I would like some more champagne, and to get away
from my fiancé.  He's followed me here to see me settled and he's really
beginning to get on my nerves."  Nikita intensified her gaze at Simon, and she could see him begin to respond to her flirtation.

        "Yes, I noticed you dancing earlier.  You appeared to be having a little disagreement or lovers quarrel," he quizzed her gently.  A waiter passed by with
champagne and Simon took two glasses, one for Nikita and one for himself.

        "Oh, it was nothing very serious, he --well, he becomes a little too demonstrative
in public, and that is not something I like,"  Nikita said as she gave him a shy look over her glass of champagne.

        "But you are so beautiful, he probably cannot help himself.  If fact, I am not sure
that if I were to dance with you, that I could control myself either," Simon smiled a little  one sided smile as he attempted to flatter her.  He had made up his mind to take he to his bed.  Sophie and Helene had pulled their usual disappearing act on the arm of  some wimpy artsy  type, so they would be out of his way for quite a while.

        Nikita looked down shyly, then said,  "What about your wife.  Are you here
alone?"  She asked as she ran her hand over his forearm.

        "Oui, I am married, but my wife and her sister are otherwise engaged for the
evening.  I do not expect to see her till morning, if the truth is told," he said as he gave her a little smile.

        "Doesn't that bother you.  I mean if what you are implying is--" Nikita acted as if
she were uncomfortable with what appeared to be the truth of Simon's situation.

        "My wife and her sister have just picked up some poor slob, who doesn't know
he will be the worse for wear by morning.  Pity him, not me.  This is France, my dear.  We understand such things.  What about your fiancé?  Will he not be upset if you
‘disappear' for a little while?"

        "I don't care.  This is Paris, and I want to be ‘bad' for a change."  Nikita
unleashed the full voltage of her seductive smile and sizzling eyes.  Simon's hand began to shake a little.  "I want to be ‘really bad.'  Take me to your house and make love to  me in your bed, the one you share with your wife."  Nikita was standing very close to him by this time, and she could see the feel the tremors of desire that were running through Simon DeVry's body.

        "My house, my bed.  You certainly do want to be bad.  Well, I will help you be
bad.  Come along ma pet."

        Nikita could hear Birkoff in her comm unit.  "Nikita, you are a piece of work.  I
can't believe he fell for ‘I want to be bad.'"  Nikita was glad that Birkoff was having fun,  since she certainly wasn't.  Nikita knew the real reason for her irritation with Birkoff was that Michael was probably having fun as well.  It's only part of the mission, she told herself.  It's only part of the mission.  She repeated it over and over in her mind and DeVry ushered her out quietly and took her to his nearby townhouse.
 

        With a delicate ampule in each palm, he approached them smiling and in all his
glory.  Helene could not wait any longer, and she pulled him roughly onto the bed.  His
right hand placed the tranquilizer on her shoulder.  A little pressure, the seal was broken, and Helene was asleep on the bed.  Sophie appeared stunned.  All she had seen was that her sister had apparently fainted. "Helene, what is wrong?" she cried as she shook her sister.

        Michael allowed a puzzled look to cross his face as well, and placed his left
hand containing the other dose of the new drug on her shoulder.  "Ditto, Sophie," he said.  He threw their clothes over them.   He quickly redressed, adjusted his holster,
ran his fingers through his hair and went to the door.  He casually looked both ways, and strolled into the hall.

        "Birkoff, the sisters are neutralized.  After I find my way out of this maze of back halls, I will be following Nikita's tracker  to DeVry's.  Is everything okay with her?," he
asked  a little anxiously.

        "She's leading him a merry little chase, she is, Michael.  I wish you could hear
her."  Birkoff giggled in Michael's ear.

        "That's okay, I'll be over there soon enough."  Michael continued to wander around a bit.  The simm rep that had been downloaded into his PDA was missing a few halls and exits in the embassy.  Michael's sense of direction won the day, but he was not pleased with the quality of the intel he'd been given.  "Birkoff, tell McClure to meet me at the van.  We'll go over to DeVry's together.  There's no time to waste now." Michael said tersely.

        Michael reached the gray van and entered.  Birkoff was sitting at his usual spot,
sequencing to beat the band.  "Why did I have so much trouble with the embassy simm rep, Birkoff.  Nothing was where it was supposed to be in that area of the building."

        "Gee, Michael, maybe it wasn't the intel.  Just maybe you didn't have enough
blood supply to your brain."  At this Birkoff ducked, Michael's aimed smack at the back  of his head. Birkoff continued to giggle.  Michael glared.

        Michael waited impatiently in the van rubbing his chin. "Where's McClure? Why
isn't he here?"  Michael's anxiety level was climbing higher, the longer he was away from Nikita.  He knew she had backup, but he could not help worrying about her.

        "He's coming Michael." Birkoff said as there was a knock on the van door.

        "It's about time.  Let's go,"  he said to the driver.  Michael settled back as
McClure gave him a disgusted stare.

        "What's the matter, Michael?  Afraid your girlie will get some strange like you did tonight?"

        A swift and powerful punch to his jaw knocked McClure to the floor of the van.
"I've had enough of your sh** McClure to last me a life time.  Another word about
Nikita, and I will finish you."  Michael loomed over him ready for any resistance.

        "Sorry, Michael, my mouth gets the better of me sometimes.  By the way, Nikita
fights dirtier than you do."  Mac laughed and Michael did as well, wondering what Nikita had done to McClure to earn this praise.
 

        "Eliminated?"  Operations looked surprised.  Canceling the two sisters hadn't
part of the mission profile.
 
        Madeline smiled.  "Sorry poor choice of words.  Michael apparently drugged them. They are still sedated in an obscure part of the embassy well out of the way
of Nikita and her target."

        "Drugged them, where is he getting that stuff.  It's the second time he's drugged
targets without it being part of the mission profile.  Find his source.  If it's ‘here' I want to know it."  Operations turned his head and leveled his steel blue eyes at Madeline.

        "Of course."  Madeline nodded, but she already knew the source and Michael
and Nikita's new tranquilizing drugs.  "Doc" down in MedLab, in addition to being a trauma surgeon, had research facilities for pharmaceuticals and had been of use to
Madeline on more that one occasion.

        As Madeline turned to leave his office, Operations reached for her arm. Madeline
merely looked at his hand on her arm and queried, "Is there something else?"  Her tone was respectful, but cool.  Her brown eyes said, not again.

        Operations removed his hand.  "No, I guess not," he said a little sadly, then he
turned and walked away, leaving Madeline alone in his office.

        Madeline pondered Michael's new propensity for using drugs as the means to achieve his ends.  There had been a time when Michael would not have hesitated to use his body to occupy Sophie and Helene.  The relationship between Michael and Nikita was strengthening, she surmised.  That was good to a point.  McClure was proving to be a distraction to them both, but apparently that situation was also contributing to strengthening their bond.  The most encouraging fact was that Michael and McClure seemed to be working toward some rapprochement.  Michael was handling him well--controlling the disruptive member of the team indeed.  Maybe this would not be a disaster at all.  Madeline crossed her mental fingers for a little more luck.

        Simon DeVry  put his arms around Nikita's waist and kissed her neck breathing heavily.  Nikita laughed huskily, "You really want to be bad with me don't you?"  They were already in the bedroom, and Nikita had easily maneuvered him over to the bed.  She caressed him about the neck and placed the plastic ampoule of tranquilizer.  Minimal pressure against the small container allowed the drug to come in contact with his skin, and DeVry collapsed onto his bed.  Nikita smiled and said  "Pig," to his inert form.

        "Birkoff, DeVry is neutralized.  I'm on my way to his office."  Nikita picked up her
evening bag containing the disk which she would use to download his files. She walked  out of the ornate bedroom and down the hall to the left.  The simm rep she that was downloaded on her PDA had proved to be quite helpful.  Two more doors on the left and she was there.  She tried the door.  "It's locked, Birkoff."

        "Use the code analyzer, Nikita."

        "I didn't have room for it in my evening bag, Birkoff.  McClure has it in his pocket."

        "What!  You didn't have room!"  Birkoff exclaimed.  "Okay, we're almost there,
Nikita.  Mac's in the van with us.  He's got it, Nikita."  He gave a puzzled look at
McClure.  "Why on earth did you  let her do that, Mac?"

        "Well, Nikita felt it was more important to fit her 9mm in the evening bag and the
code analyzer in my pocket.  Let's just say I have learned the hard way to do what Nikita wants," he said and grimaced.

        "Hey guys.  Hurry, I'm  standing here in the hall with no place to go and nothing to
do till you get here," Nikita spoke quietly into the comm unit and looked up and down the hall.

        "We're here, Nikita," Michael said as they drove in front of DeVry's townhouse.
"Give me the decoder, McClure.  Let's go."  Michael bounded out of the van almost
before it stopped.  Silently McClure followed him to a side entrance.  As they ran, they
adjusted their ski masks before they prepared to enter the house.

        "Michael, I've deactivated his primary alarm system, but there's a backup, that I
can't reach because it's shielded.  I don't know how long you have.  In the typical residential alarm system, it may be as long as 5 minutes, or as little as one."  Birkoff's
voice spoke calmly into Michael's comm unit.  "It looks like we have a couple of moving  bodies besides Nikita on the second floor.  Probably servants, Michael."
 

        "Merde, Birkoff, why don't we have adequate intel on this.  Never mind, We're in
the house and going to meet Nikita on the second floor."  Michael and Mac were bounding up the stairs and came across a very startled maid.  Michael nodded to Mac,
who placed his hand across her mouth.  In seconds he had her bound in a  hall closet.
Michael continued on his way to find Nikita.

        He reached the room where he knew the computer system was located, but Nikita was nowhere to be seen.  Michael placed the decoder on the door.  The code
came up quickly, and Michael entered it, still wondering where Nikita was.  "Nikita,
where are you?"

        "Here, Michael."  Nikita opened a door that was behind Michael.  The maid
almost caught me in the hall.  I had to go somewhere."

        "No problem, but we 'have' wasted time because you didn't have the decoder
with you."  Michael sounded very irritated, and Nikita knew she had not made the
wisest choice in handing it over to Mac.  She had expected to keep  him a little closer as part of her backup, but she still had made the choice.  She could tell from Michael's
machine mode expression that this was not the time to whine or make excuses.

        "Birkoff, we're in the data room.  I'm booting his system now.  Nikita, please tell
me you ‘do' have the disk with you,"  Michael said as he raised an eyebrow. Nikita gave him  a saccharine smile and handed it over.

        "Okay, Michael, I'm receiving.  It should only take another 60 seconds." Everything was going smoothly, then an alarm started squawking not 10 seconds later.  "Hold on, almost.  Another 45 seconds, and you can exit."

        Nikita watched the door.  She pulled out her 9mm and checked the clip, replaced it and pulled back on the cocking mechanism.  She stood silently as she watched
Michael complete the file transfer.

        "That's it, Michael.  Get outta there!  You've got incoming hostiles.  Looks like it's
only the local gendarmes, but they're not gonna care who we are."

        Michael looked at Nikita.  "The gendarmes are coming.  We're going to have to bluff our way out.  Get DeVry and we'll ‘encourage' him to give us a cover story.  Move."

        "He's out, Michael," Nikita protested with wide eyes.

        "What do you mean out?"

    "I mean I tranquilized him.  I don't know if I can wake him up.  I've never used this
drug on anyone before."  She saw the frenzied look in his eye.  "I'm going.  I'm going.  I'll see what I can do.  Hold down the fort, mon cher."

        She threw him a kiss as she ran down the hall DeVry's bedroom.   He was still
snoring.  Well, doc, said I could awaken him easily, if I needed.  So here goes, she thought.  "DeVry,"  Nikita said as she nudged him with her gun.  "Wake up, and
do it quickly.  Do exactly as I say, and you'll live.  Don't do as I say, and well...."  she held the gun to his head.  "The police are on their way.  Funny thing, you're alarm
sounded, and they are here to check it out.  My friends downstairs and I would like you to pretend that we're your guests and that the alarm was an accident.  Got it?  Good.  Let's go." Nikita motioned with her gun and DeVry did as he was told.

        Nikita and her "host' came down the stairs just in time to greet the gendarmes
answering the alarm call.  He was acting  as if he were an attentive companion to the
lovely Nikita.  Michael and McClure had allowed the gendarmes  to enter the townhouse. Since both men were in evening dress (minus their ski masks) and leisurely sipping wine, the gendarmes were already somewhat reassured that the alarm was a mistake.

        "I am so sorry," DeVry started.  "It is all a mistake.  My friends and I were a little
tipsy after the embassy party, and I had trouble entering my code.  As you can see there is no problem here."

 
        Nikita had kept her gun on DeVry the entire time that the gendarmes were in
his townhouse.  As soon as they left, he demanded, "Who are you people, and what
are you doing in my house?"  He did a double-take as Michael walked up to him.  "You
were with my wife.  Where is she?"

        "Your wife and her lovely sister are still sleeping it off somewhere in the embassy. They have not been harmed.  You will be coming with us."  Michael signaled who Mac
quickly bound DeVry's hands behind his back and blindfolded him.
 
        The operatives quickly left the townhouse and entered the gray van.  Michael
was reporting to Madeline.  "We have DeVry and his computer files are already
downloaded to you.  Yes, there were no problems."  Michael gave a glance at McClure who raised an eyebrow in response.  "Well, yes, that was a little problem, but not
insurmountable." Michael looked at Nikita with that response, and she knew Madeline must have mentioned her little mistake with the code analyzer.

        The trip to the military airport outside Paris was accomplished without incident.
The operatives and their target were on board waiting for clearance to take off.  Nikita  snuggled down into her seat.  She had changed into khaki fatigue pants and tee shirt in  order to get some sleep on the flight.  Michael, too, had changed from his tuxedo into black, of course, pants and tee shirt.  He sat in the seat beside her.  She looked up in  surprise, since he normally avoided showing any personal interest in her on missions either before or after they were completed.  DeVry was stowed in the containment  portion of the plane, and most of the operatives had the same idea as Nikita, sleep.

        "Sorry, I wasn't able to tell you how lovely you were tonight,"  he whispered
in her ear.  His comment brought a small smile to her face.  "That dress," he continued, "wasn't just a dress. It was a weapon, ** and I wish it could have been used on me."

        A bigger smile came to Nikita's face.  "Thank you.  You looked pretty hot yourself tonight.  I love it when you wear a tuxedo," she whispered to him.  Nikita could not resist touching his cheek and running her fingers over his lips.  As she did, he
kissed her fingers, but his eyes warned ‘be patient.'  Nikita sighed and snuggled beneath the blanket, which she magnanimously offered to share with him.

        Michael held her left hand in his right one beneath the blanket.  He stroked
her hand softly, as Nikita's eyes widened.  She wondered what he would do next. How could such a simple innocent movement be so arousing?  She saw that his eyes were
partially shut as if he were going to sleep, but the continued movement of his fingers
against her own belied that suggestion.  She saw him cut his eyes toward her, and could see that they glittered.  She could also see that his respiration rate had increased, and that the carotid pulse in his neck was bounding.  Going to sleep was the last thing on his mind, she knew.

        Nikita could feel her own heart rate increase and a heated flush was rising to her
face.  Rivulets of desire  began to wash over her.   Rivulets that threatened to become
waves.  If Michael did not cease and desist, they were going to be joining the mile high club before the flight was over.  Nikita barely noticed when the plane became airborne. As the plane gained altitude and leveled, Michael continued his soft assault on her hand, then progressed to caressing her breasts beneath the tee shirt.  Wide-eyed with apprehension, Nikita looked around the plane.  Everyone seemed settled into sleep, even Michael.

        "Go to the bathroom," he whispered urgently. "I'll follow you."

        "Michael?" Nikita could not believe her ears. Surely, he did not mean for them
to....

        "Do it," he ordered softly.

        Nikita sighed again and pulled his hand from her breast.  She looked over her shoulder as she walked down the aisle.  Everybody seemed to be asleep.  She knew she must be insane.  After the fiasco in the parking lot when Operations threatening to cancel one of them, Nikita could not believe she was going willy-nilly to make love with Michael in the Section plane.  Well, yes, she could believe it.  She couldn't resist Michael's nearness anymore than he could resist hers.  This weekend had been frustrating for them both apparently.  She had been coupled with McClure, and Michael had been the distraction for two women, not one but two!

        Nikita entered the bathroom and leaned against the wall in the small space. She
waited.  After two minutes that seemed like twenty, Michael opened the bathroom door. A finger to his lips cautioned her to be quiet. "Not a word or a sound," he whispered.  His eyes were green, and they glittered with desire as he looked at her huddled in the small bathroom..

        Nikita's mouth opened in an O, and Michael started kissing her.  His tongue
found its way and found hers.   His hands  pulled at her tee shirt and she pulled at
his.  Her hands began unfastening his belt buckle, as his began unbuttoning her pants.  She tugged his pants down and his manhood sprang free.  Nikita's hand encircled him and a silent moan shook his body.   Michael had difficulty with Nikita's khaki pants.  They were down around her ankles, but didn't want to come off over her boots.

        As he knelt  down to pull at the pants, her tempting sweetness was there right in
front of him and he could not resist  taking a taste.  The silent moan now came from
Nikita.  Her face contorted in pleasure, but she refused to give voice to her desires.
Finally the khaki's were off, and Michael picked up his precious burden.  Her legs
wrapped firmly around him, as she guided him to her.  Michael turned around in
the cramped quarters so that Nikita's back was against the wall.  He could wait no
longer as he began thrusting into Nikita's silken warmth.  Nikita answered his thrusts
with her own, biting into his shoulder to keep from crying aloud.

        On and on, till neither could stop the overwhelming tide that washed over and
exploded between them.  Michael's breath was ragged, and perspiration
glistened on his face and back as he sagged against her.  His eyes were half closed, but Nikita could see the love and emotion as he looked at her.   He kissed her mouth and breathed, "I love you, Nikita," in her ear.

        Nikita looked deeply into eyes that were gray again, and whispered, "I know.
I finally know.  I love you, too, Michael."  Tears glistened in her aquamarine eyes.
 

         Michael took Nikita's hand and told her softly, "I wish we could have stayed in
Paris another night.  The Georges Cinq is a beautiful and romantic place.  I wish you could have been there with me."

        Nikita smiled and put a finger to her lips to caution him.  "I wish it too, Michael."
Michael kept her hand in his and held it until they both fell asleep.

        Mac observed this from his seat on the other side of the plane, and  he had mixed feelings.  Nikita's heart definitely belonged to Michael.  From the tenderness he saw on Michael's unguarded face, Mac surmised that Michael was in love with Nikita as well.  He found it difficult to reconcile the Michael he knew as the perfect Section machine with the passionate and tender Michael he had just seen with Nikita.

        Mac was a pragmatic person.  He had to be in order to survive in that environment.  He would not spend a lot of time chasing a dream that could never be his. The dream that was already someone else's dream.  At that moment he knew and
accepted that he didn't have a chance with Nikita.  There must be more to Michael han  he thought, if Nikita had given her heart to him.
 

        Nikita debriefed with Operations, but Madeline had requested that she come to
her office afterwards.  Nikita always approached Madeline's office as if it were a
tenacious spider web and she the nice juicy fly.  The door opened as Nikita neared.
Madeline sat there with her enigmatic smile and waited as Nikita sat.  Madeline knew
exactly how Nikita felt, and that was a good measure of her power over Nikita.

        "The mission went well I know, but how did you and McClure work together?"
 
        "Basically, he was a pain in the butt, Madeline, but he's a good team leader,"
Nikita spoke frankly.  "We came to an understanding, finally.  After that we worked well together."

        "An understanding?" Madeline said as she raised an eyebrow.  "I see."

        Nikita looked at Madeline with a question in her eyes.

        "Yes, Nikita, that is all."  Madeline dismissed her and turned back to her terminal.

        Nikita met Michael coming down the  hall as she left.  Michael was back in machine mode, and he barely gave her a second look.  Apparently, he didn't like going to Madeline's office either.

        "You wanted to see me?" he asked coming straight to the point.

        "I was concerned about McClure's performance.  I hesitated to send the three of
you together, but it couldn't be avoided, given our low recruitment numbers at present."

        "He performed well.  There were no problems."  Michael's mask remained in place.

        "I understand that there was an altercation in the van," she probed.  She knew it
was too much to ask for Michael to squirm, because she had trained him too well, but she still enjoyed pushing his buttons from time to time.

        "We merely came to an understanding. There won't be any more repeats.  Are we getting what we need from DeVry?"  He asked attempting to divert Madeline's
attention from the subject of McClure.

        "Yes, as a matter of fact, M. DeVry is only too happy to assist us with the
type of information we need.  He was quite ‘charmed' by the pictures you took of his
wife and sister-in-law before you left them.  We have the means to control him quite
nicely, as well as the Minister of Finance.  You did quite well, Michael.  The use of the new topical benzodiazepine came in quite handily, did it not?"

        "Yes."

        "I am intrigued by your new usage of pharmaceuticals in the field rather than force or your body.  I wonder if you're becoming softer, Michael.  Is this a new trend?"
Madeline asked as she pushed another emotional button.

        "I simply chose the quickest way to neutralize my targets.  That's all."  His mask
or voice never faltered.
 
        "Well, you always were economical, Michael," Madeline smiled.  "That's all.

        Michael spun on his heel and left.
 
        Madeline smiled as she watched him leave.  Yes, she had trained him well.
 

        "Nikita, don't you ever get tired?  I don't even know what time it is.  I barely
know it's Sunday.  I have the mission reports to finish. And tomorrow, I have to go back to the damn shrink."  Michael was still on edge after his episode with Madeline.  She still had the power to ruin his mood, and he hated it.

        Nikita sprang from the chair, her blue eyes blazing with fear. "What's wrong, Michael?  Don't pull away from me.  Don't shut me out.  I can take anything but that."
She looked into his eyes and could see that he would not or could not tell her what had  changed his mood so abruptly.  "I'm here, Michael, if you want to talk."  She stroked his cheek, and she felt the muscles relax a bit.

        "I know, but there are still some things, I must keep to myself.  Go home, get
some rest.  I will call you later, when I know where I am with all this...." Michael
gestured with his outstretched arm toward the mountain of paperwork on his desk.
Having a relationship with Nikita was certainly playing hell with his ability to stay ahead of the work.

        "All right, Michael.  I'll talk to you later then."  Nikita resisted her basic impulse to
whine, and kissed him on the cheek.  It took all of her strength to smile and walk from his office.

        Michael sighed after she left.  She's learning, he thought.  He could see how she
felt, and he knew her well enough to know the effort it took for her to leave as she did.
He loved her more than he could have possibly imagined.  She was his weakness
and his strength.  For the man who lived his life split in two, she was the weakness of the perfect operative.   The man who had been reassembled, refabricated and readjusted to suit a higher purpose than himself.  The knowledge of his weakness for her gave others power  over him.

        But for  the other man who struggled to be free, Nikita was his strength and light.
That man was trying again to rearrange his psyche with assistance from Nikita and Dr. DuPre, who were attempting to tear down the walls he had so painstakingly erected over the years--the walls that kept him functioning in this place.  Michael was not sure that the walls could ever be completely removed, but Nikita had certainly breached his defenses with her heart.  Certainly Nikita had removed some of the bricks in those walls.  Dr. DuPre had made him examine the chinks that held the bricks together.  At
this moment, Michael was not sure he would be able to withstand the deconstruction.
What would be left when they finished?