We’ve posed as husband and wife before, this should be easy. It’s not like either of us is a virgin. So why am I thinking about this so much. Because it’s not anyone, it’s Michael. And don’t try to fool yourself, you’ve wanted him for almost as long as you’ve known him. And it can’t be for real because Section would kill you if it were. But if it looks fake then you’re dead anyway ‘cause the target would kill you instead.

"Shit."

"What’s the matter, Nikita?"

"Nothing, Michael, just thinking about this mission. It’s going to be difficult enough without adding sex to the mix. I mean it isn’t the most important in the world, but then again it’s not trivial either. I’ve never been able to leave it just sex, you know. Maybe ‘cause I’m a woman, but feelings usually filter in there somewhere. Whether the feelings are good or bad, they get mixed up in there."

"Nikita, this is not the first time, nor will it be the last time, that sex has come up in a mission. Just do what you have to and get through it."

Michael let himself into his apartment. His conversation with Nikita kept replaying in his mind.Great advice, now if you could just take it yourself. Before you met Nikita you were always able to find some way to connect with the women that Section had you seduce. Find something attractive about them and focus on that. But now all I see is Nikita. Her eyes. Her face. Her hands. Oh God, her body. I can already picture myself touching her, kissing her, Dear God, removing her clothes, one piece at a time. Slowly uncovering her long, lithe body, her beautiful glowing skin. Feeling the weight of her breasts, her nipples hardening-

"Shit"

Now I’m going to have to take a very long, very cold shower before even trying to go to sleep.

The alarm went off. His bedroom was filled with a heartbreakingly beautiful, somewhat haunting voice.

Somewhat more under control, he dressed to work out at the gym in his building. It was usually deserted this time of day, so he didn’t disturb anyone and no one bothered him. His usual workout raised lots of eyebrows and many questions, since it was focused on martial arts, with many beautiful, graceful movements executed with lethal quickness and strength. Today, however, he needed to think, so he went for a swim. He could have run but swimming allowed him to close out the outside world and concentrate on his thoughts.

He dove in cleanly and began to swim, thinking about the mission. What security would they encounter? Who would be on the teams that would take out the targets? After eight laps of freestyle he began to butterfly. His thoughts then went to Nikita. He thought about training her, her reluctance to kill, her compassion for innocents, all the things that proved that the Section had not yet been able to kill her soul. When he started his breaststroke his thoughts drifted to his dead family. The wife and child that he still loved and always would. He wondered how different his life would be if they had not left him here, alone in his hell. Finally, as he turned to begin his backstroke he contemplated his problem. What was really bothering him. His feelings, physical and otherwise about Nikita. He thought about how difficult it was going to be to conceal his feelings for her, from her, once they became intimate. He pulled himself from the pool. His arms and legs tired but far from rubbery; he only worked himself that hard when he was in Section. 3200m, and barely winded. I should do this more often.

Comments are always welcomed.

© 1997 sharay@prodigy.net

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