The big event
Written by Kimberly and One Lobo
Kristie sat on the mat in the workout room, the physical therapist holding her foot as she flexed her leg straight toward him. There was minimal pain, nothing that she couldn't cover, although the sweat that trickled down her throat, told the trained Med Tech that she was struggling. He had only been working with Kristie for four days, but he knew her reputation as a good field operative, and how badly she wanted to get back to it. He also found that he liked her, the easy manner that she had with everyone, and her strength and determination.
He let her push herself a little farther, as he watched her breathing increase with her exertions. When he saw her close her eyes, and her brows knitted together, he stopped her, ready to fend off her protests. That was another thing that he had gotten used to quickly.
"Oh, come on David, let me go at it a little longer. I thought that we had agreed on…" Kristie pleaded her case to deaf ears. David was already shaking his head no.
"We agreed that I'd let you push till I saw that you were taking it too fast or too hard."
"It can never be too hard or too fast." Kristie grinned, challenging him to hold his tough exterior. She won, victorious as his laughter let loose.
"You are too much. Now, let's get you up on that massage table."
"That's as good a place as any to start I guess, although I personally don't mind doing it on the floor."
"Kristie… behave." Kristie's head whipped around as she heard her name spoken in that distinctive French accent. Michael stared down at her from the doorway. Kristie feigned embarrassment, bringing her fingertips to her lips and lowering her eyes.
"Busted. You won't tell all my other boyfriends that I was flirting will you Michael? Don't cut my line like that!"
Michael just shook his head at her and cracked a grin. He had a way of making you feel that you had received a present when you made him smile. Thanks to Nikita, everyone got that type of gift from him more often now.
"How's she doing David?" Michael offered Kristie a hand and pulled her easily to her feet. She hopped and limped to the massage table and boosted herself onto it.
"She's coming along quickly. Stubborn as a damn mule, doesn't want to take it easy at all, but she stops when I force her to."
"Let's see the wound site, I haven't seen it since you got the hard cast off." Michael approached her, and Kristie swung the leg onto the table for Michael to examine. He traced the faint line, still slightly pink, where the debris had entered. Over time, the color would return to normal, and it would be hardly noticeable. Kristie flinched slightly at Michael's touch. He raised his eyes to hers, and found her smiling.
"Sorry…that tickled," she giggled quietly, and continued to listen to Michael and David discuss her progress. David asked, if while they continued to talk, it would be all right if he started Kristie's cool-down massage before she tightened up again. Michael agreed quickly, and stepped to the head of the table while David oiled the wound site down and started a slow, gentle massage on the larger muscle.
"Lay back. This is supposed to relax all of you, not just your leg," David stopped his motion, and she immediately complied, letting her head sink into the soft down of the large pillow. Michael looked down at her again.
"You listen to him much easier than anyone else it seems."
"If I don't listen, he stops rubbing. It makes no sense to argue if that's going to be the outcome Captain, it would be totally illogical." Kristie cocked an eyebrow at him, as she spoke the last part in a bad Mr.Spock imitation. Michael once again gifted her with a quick grin before continuing his talk with David.
"She should be fit to walk in the wedding Michael, but I'll try to keep her down till then. As gung-ho as she is to get back into the field, there's no telling what she may do if we let her out too soon."
"I'll be good."
A duo of voices met her ears with the same response, "Yeah, right."
None of the three saw Casey's vigilant stare as he paused at the door.
Alexandra noticed the young man as he walked down the hallway, saw him pause by the door of the workout room, and noted the expression on his face. She thought she remembered his name being Casey, and right now, Casey looked pissed. She slowed her pace, as she saw him start to leave, and continued on normally when he was halfway down the hall from her. Turning into the workout room, she saw that Kristie was getting her massage therapy from David, and Michael was talking to them both.
"Hey Red, how's it going?" Kristie noticed her friend as soon as she entered the room. Alex's emotions were still raw from the night before with Darren, and the memory of he and Kristie's liaison was still fresh in her mind. She shook it off, and smiled at the three.
"Pretty good, how's the leg? Is she going to be able to strut down that aisle David, or are ribbon-decked crutches on the list?"
"No way, I'm walking damnit. I never want to see those things again." Kristie's muscles tensed under David's hands and he stopped the massage again.
"If she doesn't lie still and try to relax those muscles, I won't let her out of here, much less into a church."
"Okay, okay! I'm laying still, I'm relaxing, I'm floating on a beautiful celestial cloud surrounded by angels and…"
"Enough of the bull, you'll never get that close to Heaven!" Alex laughed, and went to find a piece of equipment to take her frustrations out on.
"You know, you're probably right. But Hell's afraid I'll take over. Guess I'll just hang out in limbo and party with the rest of the almost-demons." Kristie's eyes closed, and the massage resumed. Michael excused himself, and told David he would check on her progress again later in the week.
Darren made his way to Walter's station, still feeling the effects of last night. His head throbbed, probably a tension headache, but he felt relieved at the same time. He felt he had made at least some headway with Alexandra last night. She had resisted him for only a moment, before giving herself wholly to him. If not for the damn phone calls, and an early morning briefing that amounted to nothing, they might have still been in bed now. That seemed to be where all of their problems resolved themselves, and lucky for them, he thought ironically, they had lots of problems. I just wish we could have a different life, but like Kristie always said, 'Wish in one hand, shit in the other, and see which one fills up first." And, then there was that. Would the memory of she and Darren together ever leave Alex's mind? He was almost tempted to approach Madeline on the prospect of memory modification to just make it go away.
"Hey Boss, what's going on? How's my favorite redhead doing, and don't say you don't know. She at least came in with a smile this morning. I don't know anyone who can smile that early in the morning unless they had a reason to be happy before they got up!" Walter smiled one of his broad infectious smiles, and Darren grinned right back.
"Guilty as charged Judge. We, uhh, talked, quite a bit last night. It's just all this shit around here, and Carlson, and still the thing with Kristie, and oh man, I don't know. Sometimes it just seems like a lost cause, and then I see her, and damn Walter, what am I going to do?" Darren finally took a breath and noticed if anything, Walter's smile had grown bigger.
"You're going to keep on keepin' on, and you're not going to stop loving her, that's what you're going to do my boy. You know it's worth it, just like that mule in front of the cart knows that the best tasting carrot on earth is hanging from that string in front of him. All he has to do is catch it."
"Words of wisdom from Guru Walter. Either that, or you just found a new way to call me a jack-ass. Thanks Walter. Have you seen…"
"Workout room, the one on the right. She went in there about twenty minutes ago." Walter favored him with a knowing wink, and bent over the comm unit on his workbench.
Kim saw Darren heading for the workout room and called out to him. He looked over to her and smiled as she gave him a quick thumbs-up sign and nodded to him.
"She looks a little more…satisfied…this morning. Good job."
Darren gave her a gallant bow, and continued on his way to see his fair lady.
"I could have thought of more than one thing I'd rather have been doing than coming in for a briefing that didn't amount to anything," Darren said, to start a conversation as he walked up on her.
Alexandra was laying on her aback, the handle for the weight machine above her. She had just completed a set, and was waiting a few moments to rest before she started the next one. She didn't want to deal with Darren right now. Her emotions were still raw. She was out of control, and she knew it. That was dangerous.
"Divine intervention - I don't have anymore condoms," Alexandra told him, "You used the last one."
At least it wasn't Carlson, Darren thought to himself.
Darren cocked his head to one side, his eye's roving over her. Alexandra felt immediately vulnerable, and exposed. God how this man could get to her!!!
Alexandra sat up abruptly, "Darren . . . we can't . . . I can't do this."
Darren sighed, and sat down on the end of the bench, facing her, "I thought we settled this last night."
Alexandra squeezed her eye's shut, "You settled it for you - and you know I can't make a rational decision when you're touching me - not the way you did last night. I'm losing my edge Darren. I'm gonna find myself in abeyance or killed eventually . . ."
Darren drew in a deep breath, "Exactly what are you asking me to do Alex? Tell me how to help you, and I'll do it. I'd do anything for you."
Alexandra drew in a deep breath, "I need some time - some space . . . to get my head back on straight, to get my confidence back . . . you and I have put each other through so much . . . maybe we need to take some time off. . . see if we're better together or apart."
Darren groaned, "Do you remember what life was like when you thought I was dead?"
Alexandra looked away, "Vividly. I didn't know anything could hurt so bad."
"Then how on god's green earth can you think that we'd be better off apart?" Darren asked her.
Alexandra looked back at him, "Because I'd know you were alive and OK - Things are different now, you're different, I'm different."
Darren drew in a deep breath, "Not that different."
She shook her head, "When we first started up - you weren't at all aggressive - you could hardly pull the trigger - I didn't think you were gonna make it here. Now - That's me - and now you're the one who's always in control - you're the one who can handle anything - and I can't. That scares me."
"Alex," Darren started, "We both knew we'd have growing pains here. You're seeing yours later than you expected. You can't just pull the rug out from under yourself like this - I can't."
Alexandra drew in a deep breath, "Darren, after all the shit I put you through - I'll never understand why you come back for more - I think it's because we've both invested so much time in it. We'd be better off apart . . . and letting old wounds heal over for good."
Darren sighed deeply. It was times like this he just wanted to shake her until she made sense. She was afraid, and she wanted to push it away, and not deal with it anymore. It was like dealing with the Alex he knew during training.
"OK Alex, fine. You want to quit - then quit. But some day, you're going to wish you hadn't given up."
Darren stood up, and walked away. Alexandra wanted to run and hide.
The bridal shower was being held at Alexandra's apartment. The food had been delivered, and Alexandra had just disposed of any evidence that she'd had a cigarette the previous night. A knock at the door drew her attention.
It was Kristie that she found on the other side of the door.
"I'd prolong my time in physical therapy for a piece of that boy!" Kristie announced.
Alexandra cocked her head to one side, stepping aside for her friend to enter, "What about Stephen?"
"Stephen? You mean that guy who shuts me out every time I turn around, the one that's always ready to convict me before he hears my side of it? The one that flat out turns me down half the time?? That Stephen?" Kristie asked her.
Alexandra sighed, "Maybe a little competition is in order."
"It makes him worse," Kristie told her, "It's time to move on."
Alexandra nodded, a half smile on her lips. She'd just convinced Darren to do just that. She's spent most of the afternoon convincing herself that she'd be able to do it herself.
Think of something else Alex . . . she told herself
"So what's the deal with that Casey guy?" Alexandra asked her, watching Kristie settle herself onto the sofa, "He looked like he was ready to explode when he saw you in physical therapy."
Kristie's head snapped up, "What?!"
Alexandra sat down across from her, "He was outside physical therapy this morning when I walked up. He looked pissed."
Kristie drew in a deep breath, "Casey is . . . complicated."
Alexandra raised an eyebrow.
Kristie was saved by the ringing of the doorbell.
Alexandra answered the door, and found Madeline on the other side. Soon several other women from Section One arrived. Nikita arrived with Kim last.
Thus began an afternoon of wine, food, and many many presents and risqué stories. Nikita received many satin and silky night gowns, teddies and sleeper outfits, one leather bra and bikini underwear set, several small baskets of massage oils and flavored gels, and a video set on massage techniques. For once, it was almost like they were enjoying one of the simple pleasures of real life, in the real world.
"What do you suppose they're doing?" Tony asked.
They were all crammed into Walter's work station. Michael was there, as was Darren, Stephen and Birkhoff.
"Drinking wine, eating all those foods they never admit to eating," Walter told him, "Talking about us."
"Giggling over sexy night gowns and Teddies," Stephen said wistfully, "Michael - you're a lucky bastard."
Michael smiled, "I know."
"We got everything nailed down about the bachelor party tomorrow night?" Darren asked Walter.
Walter grinned, "Yep, it's all taken care of. You just get Michael to the right place at the appointed time."
Darren nodded, "Can do - baring Operations getting in the way."
Michael felt a little uneasy. He had no idea what Walter and Darren had planned for him. He'd been dreading it for weeks. Would Nikita be pissed? He'd never cheat on her - not if given a choice. Would she be mad if they hired a stripper? Or ran a few adult films? Michael was a man, he noticed other women, but he didn't love them. None of them got to him like Nikita did. They all paled in comparison to her.
The bachelorette party . . .
They'd dragged Nikita out to a fancy strip club that featured male dancers. Kristie and Alexandra set Nikita in a chair right up next to the stage, giving her an unblocked view of several well toned virile looking men taking their clothing off to the beat of the music. Madeline waved the waiter down every few minutes to order more drinks, and arranged for Nikita to have a lap dance, right in the center of the stage. Used to entertaining little old ladies, the stripper was ecstatic when he saw the intended victim and the equally stunning table full of women that had brought her. He put on quite a show, taking more off than advertised, and reveling in the hoots and howls of the women. At least for a night, he enjoyed his job.
It was during one of the intermissions that Nikita, who was slightly on the tipsy side, slung her arm over Alexandra's shoulders and asked in a rather too loud voice what the hell was keeping the normally lively redhead a little slowed down tonight.
Alex, being very open to spilling her guts to the world since it was a social setting, trusting Nikita, and being well beyond reason with the volumes of alcohol they had consumed; Alexandra spilled her guts about Darren, the conversation they had the night before, and in the gym that morning.
And of course, Madeline sitting close by, the lack of alcohol she hadn't drunk unnoticed by everyone, had her ears tuned to the conversation. She felt a warm gush of saliva flood her mouth at the mere thought of taking this tasty tidbit back to Operations.
Kim and Kristie had watched all of this unfold in front of them like a nightmare. Kristie had gone light on the drinking due to her early morning therapy sessions, and Kim had Comm duty the following morning at five a.m. Looking at one another, they knew there was no quick way to stop the conversation, and no damage control that could be done once it was said. Kristie nodded to Kim and looped her arm into Alex's.
"Come on girlfriend, let's go visit the little girl's room. You know one woman can't pee alone, you have to be in there blabbering at me under the stall." She pulled Alex upright as she tried to take a last swig off of her rum and coke before leaving the table. They staggered off, Kristie trying to manage a very inebriated Alex while keeping as much weight off of her soft cast and bad leg. Eventually, they made it to the restroom, and Kristie lowered Alex to the couch in the corner of the small lounge. Alex leaned against a wall for only a second, before clutching her hand to her mouth and bolting for a stall. Kristie hopped over as quickly as she could, and grasped two handfuls of Alex's red mane, holding it back for her, out of the line of fire. She retched for nearly two minutes, the light dinner of cheese and crackers, drowning in all that alcohol, came back up with a vengeance. Kristie waited a minute or two before she twisted Alex's hair into a quick French twist, pulled the chop-sticks from her own hair, and pinned the whole mass off of her neck. She hopped to the sink, pulling out a handful of paper towels to soak under the water. Kristie eased her way back into the stall where Alex still had a death grip on the handrails on each side of the toilet. Placing the damp, cold towels on Alexandra's neck, she massaged her back with the other hand in a circular motion.
"You're pretty good at this Kristie. A natural hang-over nurse."
"Wish I could be proud to say that it's from nursing other people, but actually, I just followed the same procedure that many of my friends have gone through with me."
Kristie let her rest there for a few more minutes, then they made their way back to the table, and more fun.
The bachelor party . . .
Walter had agreed to be the sober driver and decision-maker for the evening. Of course, there were other sober members of their party. Dante and a few members of his team were there, and they had been steadily drinking sodas all evening long.
The evening had started out with Dinner at a steak house on the outskirts of what was widely known as the red light district. Michael had clearly been a little uncomfortable at first. Celebrating anything was foreign to him.
When he did celebrate - it was with Nikita, for Nikita . . . Nikita . . . his reason for everything now. How life had changed so much . . .
By the end of dinner, Michael had given up trying to get a glass of wine, and had to satisfy himself with beer. Every time his glass came close to being empty, Darren or Stephen was waving down the waiter.
After dinner, they'd all piled into a simple passenger van. The van was another source of concern for Michael. He felt terribly exposed. They were easy targets tonight, and he knew it - of course, no one would know who they were, that was their security. It felt disconcerting to not be in control, to let someone else take the reigns. Even when he was training new team leaders, he knew that he could take control back if necessary. But tonight was different. No one had any intention of listening to him. The rules were different on this occasion.
Walter drove them farther into a part of town that was known for it's main type of business. Every building was a strip joint, and porn movie theater or store. Michael knew the area well only because a few of his covers had dictated it.
Walter parked the van in a lot, and the group poured out of the van. Darren flanked Michael on one side, and Stephen on the other. Tony and Birkhoff brought up the rear, and Walter led the group. Michael heard the older man talk to the bouncer for a moment, explaining that they were celebrating Michael's last night of bachelorhood. The bouncer seemed to know Walter from somewhere. That didn't surprise Michael at all. The bouncer picked up the phone and called someone, and moments later Walter was leading them through the crowd.
Surprisingly enough, the club wasn't as shabby as Michael had expected. The furniture was in good condition - all vinyl of course, it would be easier to clean that way. It had a glitzy look to it, but it didn't come off as cheap either. The waitresses were all dressed in tiny little outfits, but very few of them looked like streetwalkers. College students, single mothers, all trying to make the ends meet. There were worse professions, Michael knew that to be true.
A lively debate began between Darren, Stephen and Tony about what kind of beer to order, and Walter ended it by ordering three pitchers of beer, and several shots of tequila.
Tequila was one of Alexandra's favorite hard liquors. Michael wondered what she was doing to Nikita at the moment.
Alexandra wasn't doing anything to Nikita. What Alexandra was doing was sipping water. She knew she'd been drinking a lot, but she'd lost track. Her stomach had apparently decided she was done. But that didn't mean Nikita was done.
Kristie was pushing Nikita from behind while two of the strippers that had danced for Nikita earlier were pulling. A reprise was in order apparently. The dancers and Kristie won, and Nikita found herself up on the
stage, with a man on both sides of her, bumping and grinding to the music, doing their slow sensuous strip tease.
Nikita laughed and giggled, howling with glee. She reached for Madeline, and the older woman leaned back out of reach. Kristie saw the opportunity immediately. She nodded to Alexandra, and between the both of them, they dragged Madeline over to the stage, pushing her up onto it. The dancers took it from there. Alexandra pulled her camera out from her fanny pack. Moments like this had to be preserved.
The waiter brought another round of drinks, and set another class of club soda in front of Alexandra, and some soda crackers. Alexandra looked up to thank him, and found herself being gently pulled up from her seat, and pushed towards the stage. The waiter took her camera, and several other male dancers started to pull Alexandra, Kristie and Kim up onto the stage. Kristie, like Nikita, howled with glee, and quickly matched the rhythm of the men surrounding her.
One of the men dancing for Nikita dropped down to one knee, and with the help of one of the other dancers, got her to sit on his shoulders, and stood up. Nikita was now dancing from a sitting position on someone's shoulders. All the while, the waiter clicked away with Alexandra's camera.
Michael knew he had quite an alcohol tolerance. It was something he had to work to maintain. But he also knew he was very intoxicated. They'd been drinking for hours. Beer and hard liquor. Their glasses never seemed to get empty.
Walter had taken Michael's jacket, Darren and Stephen had shoved him up onto the stage and into a chair. It was apparently a house rule in this particular club that all men out on their bachelor party got a chair dance on stage - while each and every one of the dancers took their turn on him.
By the end of the session, Michael felt ready to explode. He felt a little guilty, but reminded himself was just a man after all - and these were some very beautiful, and very naked women. None of them could do for him what Nikita did though - and he knew in his heart he'd turn every one of them away if anything other than a dance was offered.
By the end of the night, Michael had been propositioned 8 times. Darren, Stephen and Tony had turned down several offers. Birkhoff almost died of embarrassment when he was propositioned. Walter politely turned down several women himself.
The bachelorette party ended the evening at Alexandra's apartment. Alexandra, Kristie and Nikita passed out on Alexandra's bed, Kim and Gayle slept on the pull out sofa. Madeline had gone back to her own home for the evening.
Pepe had curled up into a ball and slept on Alexandra's stomach.
It was roughly 3:00 am when Pepe jumped up, and springboarded himself off of Alexandra, running across Kristie and then Nikita, and then flew across the room to the balcony.
"Fucking dog," Alexandra swore, "I swear to god Walter must sharpen his nails."
Kristie groaned, "Why is he up? Does he have to pee?"
Nikita just groaned, "I'm going to die."
Alexandra and Kristie giggled. They'd set an empty bucket next to Nikita for a reason.
"N-i-k-i-t-a!" came a thickly French accented, slurred voice, from the street below.
Alexandra sat up immediately, and Kristie laughed, "They found us."
Nikita groaned, "He's gonna kill me for drinking this much!"
"Relax, worse case, he'll throw you up against a wall, bitch you out and work you hard in the gym - trust me, I know."
"N-i-k-i-t-a!" Michael's slurred voice called up again.
"You take one side, I'll take the other," Kristie told Alexandra sliding off the end of the bed, "Otherwise, he'll howl all night down there - those guys will let him."
"I'm gonna die!" Nikita wailed as her friends pulled her to her feet, and half carried her to the balcony, "I'm still drunk! Someone be kind and just cancel me now!"
Kim and Gayle were awake by now, and scrambled out onto the balcony with the other women.
Below, on the street, Michael stood, missing his shirt - his hair disheveled, a bottle of some sort in his hand.
Darren and Stephen were whispering something to him. Walter was a few feet behind them, leaning on a van, clearing enjoying the whole show.
"Oooohhhhh bbbbaaaabbbbbbyyy yyyyyyoooouuuuu! Yyyyooooouuuu ggggooooottttttt wwwwhhhhhhaaaaaaaaattttttt IIIIII nnnneeeeeeeeeeddddddd!"
Michael started to half sing, half yell, in a slurred French accented voice.
"Oh my god!" Kristie burst out laughing, everyone else joined in.
"Wait!" Michael slurred out, and looked over at Darren and Stephen, who were almost falling down they were laughing do hard, "That's the wrong song for this!"
"Walter!" Alexandra called down, "Take him home! Take them all home! We are all snuggled up warm and comfortable in my bed! You're disturbing us!"
Hearing that, every last one of them stopped laughing, and looked up, surprised.
Kristie burst out laughing, and Nikita burst out laughing hysterically.
Kim shook her head, and Gayle got a confused look on her face.
All five of the men below on the street raced across the street for the door. Just as they reached the curb, Michael, Stephen and Darren someone managed to trip all over each other.
"See what you've done!" Kristie teased Alexandra.
Alexandra shrugged, "They won't get through the main door without help."
As if on cue, they all heard the men below yanking on the main door, cursing and swearing. Finally, Michael staggered back from the group, and started towards the drain pipe.
"He's gonna scale the wall," Kim laughed, "Will it hold him?"
As if to answer, the drain pipe broke. Michael fell back onto Darren and Stephen.
"Walter!" Kristie called down, "Take them all home!"
"Oooohhhhh bbbbaaaabbbbbbyyy yyyyyyoooouuuuu!" Michael started to sing/yell again.
The next morning . . .
"This whole wedding is a major disruption," Operations complained bitterly, "This had better work."
Madeline kept her Mona Lisa smile in place. Operations had not joined the bachelor party - Madeline suspected that he wished he had. From the reports she got, it had been just as wild as Nikita's bachelorette party.
This morning, Kim and Gayle had limped into Section with dark sunglasses on. Michael stayed in his office. Alexandra, Kristie and Nikita hadn't even bothered to come in yet. Darren and Stephen had staggered in with Michael, and had remained in his office.
Darren had his head resting back against the wall, "I don't remember the last time I felt this bad . . ."
"We're still drunk," Stephen groaned, "Christ! How much did we drink?"
"I lost count," Michael murmured, leaning back in his chair, having a hard time believing he had allowed himself to get that inebriated. He'd managed to find his jacket, but not his shirt. The bottle of tequila sat on his desk, now empty.
"Alex broke up with me," Darren announced after a long period of silence.
Michael barley opened his eye's, "Again? What's her excuse this time?"
Darren sighed, "We've changed, she needs to get her self back in order - all that kind of crap. Has her performance suffered?"
"No," Michael sighed, "She'll come around."
"What about that Carlson bastard?" Darren asked Michael, "Does she . . .?"
"Not even a little," Michael assured him, "She might be confused, but the way she looks at you and the way she looks at him is so different . . ."
Michael turned his gaze on Stephen, "And you - you can just quit giving Kristie shit about Casey. Anyone who knows her knows that he isn't her type - and you are."
Stephen humphed, "She was your type once."
Michael felt it like a slap in the face, "She was a target. It's not the same."
"You saved that target," Stephen pointed out.
"I also brought in Kim," Michael told him, "She was a target - I'd kick your ass for being so pig headed if I could move right now Stephen."
Stephen made a waving gesture in the air at Michael, "Just playing devil's advocate Michael. But just out of curiosity, who haven't you slept with?"
"Alex," Michael answered, "Gayle . . . most of the women in Comm in fact . . ."
"Notice he didn't say Madeline," Stephen teased.
Darren looked up, "No way."
Michael groaned, "I don't want to talk about it."
Stephen sighed deeply, "She did the initial valentine training for a lot of us."
Darren groaned, "Oh god, tell me I won't have to. Alex would never understand!"
"Yeah, probably no more than she did about you and Kristie. Mmmm, I'm starting to see a pattern here." Stephen's mouth set into a hard line as he looked at Darren.
"Man, don't go there. You know the real story behind that and you know that Kristie and I are..."
"Just real good friends. Yeah, whatever. It just seems that Kristie has a lot of real good male friends. It gets old, real fast."
"If I didn't know better Stephen, I'd think you were calling her a whore. Is that how you should talk about someone you love?"
"Love? Kristie doesn't have a clue what that is. Having great sex seems to be her goal in life."
"What the hell do you expect when you make it so hard for her to get close to you?" Michael interjected.
"Oh, that's a good one, you telling me to be more accessible!" Stephen's voice grew harsh, "at least Nikita didn't give up on you. At least you're getting what you want!"
"Wait a second. That's it, the bottom line isn't it Stephen? You don't mind her acting like a whore, as long as she's your whore. Is that about it? What? Do you want to marry her and take her away from all of this? Is that what you think Michael and Nikita are going to accomplish by getting married? They have both busted their asses for years, and this little bit of happiness won't make any difference as far as Section goes. They will still be expected to bust their ass, risk their ass, or whore themselves out
just like the rest of us. Get over yourself, and wake the fuck up. If you want her, then tell her. Damn, I am so sick of the fucking head games around here. They mess with our minds so much that now we do it to one another on our own, they just have to stand back and watch us fuck it all up ourselves." Darren buried his head in his hands, gripping two handfuls of haphazard hair, leaning up on his elbows to rest on his thighs.
Stephen looked to Michael, who shook his head at him, his expression telling him to let it go. Stephen stood and quietly stepped out of the office. He knew that Kristie had therapy around ten, and went to wait on her. Something had to be said, and the apology needed to come from him.
Darren looked up when he heard the door click shut, "So what do we have to get done today. We're not gonna be good for anything. I just need to see her Michael, even if we don't talk. I just need some time..."
Michael looked down at himself. He never had located his shirt. His jacket was half-open, exposing bare flesh and a cross necklace Nikita had given him for Christmas once. There were small scars here and there, peppering his flesh. He reeked of alcohol and he knew it. There was a knock
on his office door.
Michael groaned, "Go away!"
Now Darren knew he was still half drunk. The door opened, and Alexandra appeared, camera to her eye. She snapped several pictures, and disappeared quickly, closing the door behind her.
"That's it," Michael muttered as he rubbed his temples, "She's in abeyance!"
Michael then groaned in resignation, "Just stay close around here today in case you're needed. I won't bother you unless I have to. Go find that red-headed demon and talk to her."
"Can't wait to see the pictures of the bachelorette party," Darren eased himself out of the chair, determined to try and talk to her today, right after he stopped by MedLab for some extra strength aspirin.
Tony had stopped in Comm to drop off a recovery disk to Birkoff, and was pleasantly surprised to see Kim at her terminal. She didn't look bad after last night's escapades, a little pale maybe, but definitely not as bad as everyone else he had seen so far.
"Hey baby, how ya feeling?" Tony let his fingers tangle in the soft hair at the base of her neck.
"Not too bad actually. I stopped a little earlier than everyone else, since I had these sims to review this morning. How bout you?" Kim had stopped typing and was just enjoying looking at him. The dark blue shirt that he wore clung to his sculpted chest, and she had to force her eyes away
and back to his eyes.
"I think I came out of it better than most. Slight headache, but I'm not sure if it's from the beer, or Michael's yowlings under Nikita's window. I missed you."
"Missed you too."
He cast a glance to Operations' overhead roost, and finding it empty, brushed a soft kiss over her lips, then turned on his heel headed for the gym. Kim knew the rest of the day would drag, and wished for at least a small crisis to speed it up a little. She knew for the rest of the day, her mind would be dwelling on that kiss - and what that kiss could have lead up to - if they hadn't been in Section.
"No, I can't David."
"Yes you can. I told you not to go overboard last night Kristie. How much did you drink?"
"I don't know, I stopped counting. Hell, when it's on Section's credit card, who keeps up with it anyway?"
"This is what I meant when I said to take it easy, you knew you'd have to be in here this morning with me, and this therapy has to be done. Roll over and I'll loosen you up with a quick rub-down. Here, ease those sweat pants off, I'll hold the towel steady for you."
"Someone's lying if they told you that I'm modest, but thanks for the consideration," Kristie smiled as she pushed the sweatpants over her hips and the wound site. David elevated the sheet on one side as she sat half-upright to push the rest of the way off. His gaze caught quite a bit of skin as she rolled to her stomach. As he lay the sheet across her again, and began to roll it toward her buttocks, she shifted slightly.
"This kinda hurts my leg David. Is there a leaf you can drop on here about where my wound is?"
"I didn't even think of that, hang on," he dropped the sheet across the backs of her thighs, and stepped to the side of the table. He maneuvered some levers, and Kristie felt a portion of the table drop away and the pressure on the wound ease immediately.
"Ahhh, much better. Are you gonna do my shoulders and back too?"
"Do you have a wound up there?" David smiled behind her back, waiting for a smart reply.
"Just thought I'd give it a try. I usually don't have to look for an excuse to take my shirt off when I'm with a man."
"What are you doing Casey?" Stephen stopped about two feet away from him. Casey spun towards him and Stephen stepped back and held a defensive posture.
"Nothing, I mean just watching, why are you so concerned?" Casey knew of Stephen, but hadn't until now had occasion to speak with him.
"Watching a massage therapy session from out in a hallway is not part of any training that I know of, you need to leave. If you need Kristie for something, I'm sure she'll find you when she's done."
"And I bet you hate that too, don't you?"
Stephen felt his blood pounding at his temples. Not today, not with a hangover, and not about Kristie.
"Casey, don't do this."
"Do what man, you getting pissed? Whatcha going to do about it?" Casey took a step forward but halted as he heard Kristie yell out from the therapy room. It only took his moment of concentration loss for him to find himself on the floor, one arm bent at a ridicilous angle behind his back by Stephen.
"Any other questions little man?" Stephen knelt over him with his knee pressed into Casey's kidneys. "Keep mouthing off and I'll press down a little harder. How would you like to be lying in a pool of your own piss when she makes it to that door?" Stephen watched the door as he whispered to Casey, waiting for Kristie to appear. She did a moment later, but not in the fashion that he had expected.
Kristie dropped from the table onto her good leg, taking the sheet with her, wrapping it around her as she went. In that instant, David realized that she had been totally nude under the sheet. She already had a five foot start on him, and he saw that she wasn't favoring the leg at all, her anger having eclipsed her concern over the injury and the pain. He snagged the sheet half way across the room, just as Stephen and Casey up at them.
She slowed, but wouldn't stop. David knew that re-injury was very possible, and had to do what he could to prevent it. At that moment, he had no choice, as he stepped quickly in front of Kristie, bent at the waist, and let her momentum drape her over his shoulder. He boosted the 5'4 blond over his shoulder and into the air, hearing the sharp intake of breath, before she had a chance to start ranting at the two men arguing in the hallway.
"You two testosterone bulls can take this fight somewhere else. I'm > taking Kristie to her quarters to try and make her calm down again. If she's re-injured this leg, it'll be your two asses on the line with Madeline and Operations."
He quickly made his way between the two stunned operatives, with an equally stunned Kristie still over his shoulder.
"I just can't believe them, they have to watch it in here. I want to > kick both of them in the ass, and Madeline's too. I told her this shit would get out of hand with those two!"
"Whoa, calm down and explain this to me. Who is this Casey guy? I haven't treated him, but Stephen doesn't just pounce on someone for no reason. Have you and Casey got something going?"
Kristie pulled the rest of the sheet that was still wrapped around her off as she stood up from the bed where David had finally put her down.
David's mouth went dry as she stood before him naked, her anger evident in the flush of her skin. He saw her start across the room, and placed a quick hand on her shoulder.
"You uh, need to sit down, what did you need?" David watched for her to realize that she was stark naked and try to cover herself, but she merely pointed to the robe hanging on the back of her door. David retrieved it, blushing at his stupidity, and helped her slip it on. She didn't rush to belt it, only pulled it to her as she leaned against the wall behind the bed.
"You really aren't modest are you?"
"About what? Oh damn David, I'm sorry. I'm just mad, and in this place, you get used to stripping down, changing, and having stuff taped to you all the time. It's not like we're used to any privacy, and you being a masseur, I figured, oh, David, are you blushing?"
Michael still felt like demons from hell were dancing in his skull when the rehearsal began. Father Patrick, who was perpetually chipper, smiled knowingly as the entire wedding party moved about gingerly - all of them still feeling the effects from the previous nights escapades.
Nikita stood but a scant six inches away, and Michael reached out, slipping his fingers into hers. She looked over at him, as if surprised, but he felt her fingers curl around his.
Had his displays of affection been so hidden? He knew they were, he knew why, and he knew she understood. Though this wedding was as real as it could get, despite the fact that there were ulterior motives for Section, Michael knew that there were those who were still curious about his relationship with Nikita. Rumors ran wild about what kind of favor Michael had cashed in with George. Some felt that it wouldn't last - a year from now one of them would be dead or filing for a divorce. Michael wondered how much of his reserved behavior in Section's version of public played into those perception.
But no matter what everyone though, Michael knew that what they had was real. Nikita loved him, despite what he'd had to do. She deserved better than him, but by some twist of fast, it was he that she wanted, and Michael would be eternally grateful. It was almost enough to make him believe in a god he'd long ago decided couldn't possibly exist in the world Michael lived in.
"Deep thoughts?" Nikita questioned softly.
Michael's response was to give her hand a gentle squeeze, "I love you."
A smile spread across Nikita's lips, "I love you."
Alexandra watched this exchange, looked over at Kristie, and said sarcastically, "I'm going to be sick."
Kristie laughed softly, "I'm actually envious. I wish I knew the kind of love they had . . . it must be something amazing Alex."
Alexandra groaned, "Oh god, am I hallucinating all of this? Don't tell me cupid got to you too!"
"Don't knock it," Darren's voice said softly, suddenly behind Alexandra, his breath warm on her neck, "or are you afraid of it?"
Alexandra wanted to scream, curse, cry and turn around and bury herself into his arms.
"I'm afraid of me, don't do this, not here," She said softly looking over her shoulder.
Darren saw tears starting to build up in her eye's, and she closed them for a moment, hardening herself against her emotions.
"I need another drink," Kristie sighed, looking around.
Kim and Tony stood together, off to the side, watching Michael and Nikita, then Kim nodded over to Darren and Alexandra, Kristie had stepped away from them, the expression on her face conveying frustration.
"OK, spill the beans. What is he saying?" Kim asked Tony.
"About Alex? Lately not much. We haven't had much of a chance to do the male bonding thing," Tony told her, "But they broke up - Alex made the decision. Finished. Told Darren that she couldn't handle it and Section at the same time, or something like that. Darren's giving up I guess."
Kim frowned, "That's not like Darren."
"You and I haven't seen half of it I'm sure," Tony told her, and he draped an arm around her shoulders, "Promise me we'll always talk stuff through."
Kim grinned, "We will always talk stuff through."
Kristie had wandered over to where Darren had left Stephen standing.
"Trouble in paradise?" Stephen asked her, nodding towards Alexandra and Darren.
"Something like that," Kristie sighed, "We gotta come to a truce - at least to get us through this whole wedding."
"Truce," Stephen sighed in agreement. It wasn't what he wanted, but it was all he could give right now. The next time he was with Kristie, it would be her pursuing him. Hell would freeze over before he chased after her.
They went through the routine, where Nikita would enter from, where the brides maids and groomsmen would stand, and then they finalized the time they would arrive with Father Patrick. Nikita was just about to leave with Michael when Alexandra pulled the blonde away, "Sorry boss - bosses I should say - but it's bad luck to spend the night together before the wedding."
"I thought that was just extended to seeing the dress," Michael complained, but allowing Nikita to be pulled away from him, just the same.
"It extends to a lot of things," Alexandra told him, pulling Nikita away, "Besides, I've got to get her to a ton of appointments tomorrow morning, and you'll only slow us down."
Kristie, Alexandra and Kim whisked Nikita out of the church, the four of them laughing over some private joke told once they were out of the men's earshot.
"Old Italian tradition," Tony announced, "Pasta and good wine at Giovanni's."
The four of them started for the exit, and Michael looked over his shoulder at father Patrick, "Join us father?"
"Another time," Father Patrick told them, "I have much to attend to if I'm going to enjoy the reception."
Tony never mentioned which Italian tradition it was that involved pasta and wine - but no one was inclined to argue the point. Giovanni's was a place he must frequent often, because the host recognized him, and asked after Kim.
They were seated in back, a bottle of wine was brought to the table, and a little while later they ordered.
It was after they ordered that Darren dialed a number from his cell, and canceled a reservation for tomorrow night at the Palisades under his name.
He hung up and offered an explanation to the group as a whole, "I had this romantic evening planned for Alexandra and I - I'd thought we'd be able to work some things out, away from all the distractions and interferences, but I've been informed under no uncertain terms that it's over."
"Give it time, it will come," Michael offered some advice, "It took Nikita and I years."
Darren sighed, "Did she ever want to just give up?"
"Daily I'm sure," Michael told him, and poured more wine in Darren's glass.
The next morning . . .
Nikita was torn between the intense excitement and a little bit of trepidation. This was really going to happen! She was getting married! To Michael!
Madeline had arranged their visit to the salon. Their hair would be done, their makeup and their nails. By 1 in the afternoon they had to be at the church. The wedding was at 2:30. Madeline had arranged for the dresses to be delivered before they got there. All Nikita had to do was show up. Definitely one of her easier assignments.
Nikita looked into the mirror to see Alexandra, Kristie and Kim. Kristie and Kim were definitely enjoying themselves, and enjoying the pampering. Alexandra looked distracted. Nikita could only imagine what it was she was thinking about. Carlson had taken her to the salon twice a week. Nikita knew she had to miss the pampering. Nikita also knew that Alexandra would always have trouble resolving what she knew of Carlson in his professional life, to what she knew of him in his personal life. It was like two pieces of a puzzle that would never fit. But somehow, they did.
"Oh I could get used to this!" Kristie announced to the rest of the small group.
Kim laughed softly, "I've never done this, but I can see where it can grow on me!"
"Now you know that where ever Michael is taking them for the honeymoon - he's gonna have Nikita on a massage table daily . . ." Alexandra started, "Of course, that means he'll hire a female masseuse . . ."
"He can do the massages," Nikita announced, "Trust me, the man has damn good hands!"
The elicited a lot of giggles and laughs, and the conversation finally picked up.
Michael carefully ran a brush through his shoulder length curls. In the mirror, he could see Darren pulling his hair loose, and then running a comb through it.
"I'm thinking down. Pulled back seems too . . . like I'm about to go to work," Darren explained, seeing Michael watching him in the mirror.
"Prima donna's," Stephen teased them.
Stephen was already dressed and ready. Tony was just pulling on his jacket, and carefully sizing up his hair and clothing in the mirror.
"Hey, don't knock it man - gotta look nice for the ladies," Tony told him, "That rustic look only works on some women."
Stephen rolled his eyes in exasperation.
Michael tugged his vest into place. Underneath the vest, at the small of his back was a small handgun. He just couldn't go without one. It was part of him. He knew that a security team would be in place, but the people the trusted the most were going to be in the wedding party.
As if Tony knew what he was thinking, Tony checked his own gun, and slid it into place. At that moment, Walter walked in, already clad in his tux, a black silk bandanna in place instead of the usually colorful ones.
"Lots of giggles coming from the ladies lounge," Walter told them.
Michael straightened his frame, giving himself one last check in the mirror.
"It's time I get out there," Michael told the solemn group.
Walter laughed out loud at them, "You all look like you're going to a funeral! Lighten up! This is the big day!"
"Were you ever married Walter?" Darren asked.
A dark shadow flickered in Walter's eyes, "Once - for a day. Best day of my life."
Tony frowned, "Just a day? . . . can I ask . . .?"
"What happened?" Walter sighed, "Section happened. She was a cold op. She didn't come back from a mission. If you listen to nothing else this old man says - enjoy your lives while you have them."
Walter stepped back, and held open the door.
Madeline carefully buttoned up the tiny buttons on the back of Nikita's gown. The train had been pulled off to one side, to make it easier to reach all the tiny little fastens.
A string of pearls hung around Nikita's neck, and pearl drop earrings hung from her ears. Her hair had been arranged in large curls on top of her head, a few tendrils left loose. The veil was securely fastened. It would take a lot of work to get it free later on, but in the mean time, it would hold.
"Kita? Got your gun?" Alexandra asked, walking up behind Madeline and Nikita.
"Right under the garter," Nikita grinned, "Kinda fitting, isn't it!"
Alexandra laughed, "Father Patrick would just die if he knew what was in his church today."
Kristie laughed, "Oh I think he must have a good idea if he knows anything about Section One."
Kim had been peering out the door, "It certainly is an interesting crowd out there. Looks like a United Nations meeting."
"I'm wondering what we're gonna see at the reception," Alexandra commented, and looked at her watch, "Well ladies? It's show time, are we ready?"
The church was awash in a colors from flowers, the stained glass and candle light. The alter area practically glowed. Michael checked his watch, and glanced over at the Keyboardist. One of the ushers whispered something, and he started to play.
The crowd stood up, and turned to watch for the procession of brides maids, and the bride.
Kim was the first brides maid to appear, walking calmly with her back straight, her gate steady and even despite that she had to rely on a cane. Michael had a brief flashback of the women he'd met years ago. Proud, confident . . . even with the need for a cane, Kim hadn't changed much. She'd adapted. That was part of her.
Next came Kristie, walking just as calmly, and proudly as Kim, not favoring her injured leg at all. Michael had worried about that leg - mostly out of Kristie's safety. If Kristie felt any pain, she'd hide it well. At the moment, she was grinning ear to ear, almost as if she was privy to something too juicy to keep to herself.
Alexandra came next. The tall redhead was smiling as well, looking like a cat that got the canary. Michael started to wonder what they knew that was so funny.
The music changed, and a moment later, Nikita appeared, the veil pulled forward, Walter at her side. Michael felt his heart skip a beat in his chest, she was so beautiful . . .
Darren knew that for one time in his life, Michael was completely at the mercy of the world. He saw no one but Nikita. Darren could understand why. She was absolutely gorgeous. Even Operations had an admiring look on his face - and he wasn't one to grant a smile of confident often.
Nikita and Walter reached the alter, and the ceremony began.
Since neither of them were catholic, a mass was not being performed. It simply the marriage ceremony.
Father Patrick started with a prayer, had the bride and groom state their names, and then began a rather brief sermon on the merits of matrimony.
Nikita's eyes were glued on Michael, the words almost totally fading out. She couldn't help but remember the marriage they had that no one else knew about, in Australia. That time, it had been a judge that performed the ceramony. She'd worn a simple cream sundress, Michael had worn chinos and loose flowing shirt. There had been no witnesses, there couldn't be. That ceremony had been performed near a cliff's edge, overlooking the ocean. Gulls had been in the air, their calls mixed with the sounds of waves almost like music. Nikita could almost hear that same sound now.
Michael was drowning in Nikita's intense blue eye's. Was she thinking of their first marriage? That marriage where they hadn't been able to use their real names? Was she smelling the salt in the air, hearing the waves crashing on the beach below them and the gulls circling in the air above them?
It had hurt Michael, knowing he couldn't give her his real name, even if it was to protect them. But this time it would be different. This time, their marriage was being performed in front of the world. She'd take his name - Nikita Sammuelle. They didn't have to hide anything . . .
Darren couldn't help but glance over at Alexandra. As if on cue, her eye's strayed in his direction, and held a moment, a myriad of emotions in her eyes at that moment. Love, longing, regret, fear, and resignation. She looked back towards the priest, but somehow, Darren knew that she had to force herself to look away.
So this is it, she's really going to leave me . . .
Kristie felt a twinge of jealousy, seeing the two lovers they were here to celebrate with look at each other. Even the way they looked at each other spoke volumes. What was love like that like? Unconditional - it had to be. The lives they lived demanded that it be unconditional - otherwise they never would have made it this far. Kristie knew that Michael had felt a little bit of jealousy over a few targets Nikita had to seduce in the past. Kristie knew that Michael felt very possessive of Nikita too, but he didn't try to hold her back from having friends. Instead - he made an effort to join that circle of friends. Kristie had always known that the brief intimate moments she and Michael had shared had initially been under orders - and she knew it had been before Nikita, and after Michael had thought Nikita was gone from his life. The last time had been a method of tricking Kristie - for her own good, her own safety. But they'd managed to stay friends. It was a friendship that Kristie would always value.
Kristie couldn't help but let her gaze drift to Stephen. She'd never had any illusions that she'd marry. She'd never considered settling down. What she felt for Stephen had made her reconsider those ideas . . . but then he'd dashed all her hopes when he'd turned her away for following orders. She knew that he'd never been told that Casey was an assignment, but she'd hoped that he'd loved her enough to look into it. Couldn't he see the difference? Shouldn't he be able to?
Then there was that night with Darren. Poor Darren . . . they never could be more than friends, there just wasn't anything there. That night had been all involuntary intoxication from the drugs they'd been slipped. She still had a hard time believing that it had happened. Alexandra had said that they were both forgiven, but sometimes Kristie saw something in the redhead's eye's. That night would always haunt Alexandra. Kristie looked over at the redhead, the polite smile glued on her face. Kristie knew that Alexandra was happy for Michael and Nikita. But did she wish for more for herself and Darren?
Tony's gaze met Kim's, and in that brief moment, their eyes exchanged many messages. I love you . . .
The exchange of vows had come.
Michael was about to slip the ring on Nikita's finger, and she stopped him, turning it so she could read in inscription. My heart, my love, soul - Michael.
Nikita felt like her heart was going to burst.
"I Michael, take you Nikita, to have and hold, to love through sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for all time."
Michael had purposely not said, Till death do us part, because that was a very real possibility for them.
"I Nikita, take you Michael, to have and to hold, to love through sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for all time."
The modification they made to the vows wasn't lost on anyone. Even Madeline and Operations exchanged glances. George nodded approvingly.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride," Father Patrick finished.
Nikita stepped into Michael's embrace, meeting him half way, their kiss soft, gentle, and almost too sensuous to be seen in a church.
The crowed cheered and clapped. Michael and Nikita ignored them, lost in their own little world. Nothing existed except them, the tidal wave of emotions, and a profound sense of rightness.
Hours later . . .
The reception party was in full swing. Kim's earlier description of the crowd certainly fit. The guests came from all over the globe. Some small pockets discussed Politics. Other small pockets of people avoided it like the plague. Champagne flowed freely, and the hard liquor bar stayed very busy.
The band played on and on, the mix of music as eclectic as the crowd. Nikita had found herself dancing with Michael first, Walter, Darren, Stephen, Tony, Operations, Birkhoff, even George. Michael had made the rounds, dancing with many of the women he saw often in his life in Section - Madeline, Kim, Kristie, Alexandra - even Brianna, whom he'd met only weeks ago. There were also many women that he'd met in the course of his professional life as an operative - most of them contacts and operatives from other agencies.
That part of the reception came where the bride tossed the flowers. Almost every women present pressed tightly together, vying for what they thought would be a good position. Kim, Kristie and Alexandra stood towards the back of the crowd.
Nikita had her back to them, and stood with her feet shoulder width a part, and made a show of getting ready to toss the bouquet. She closed her eye's, and have it a good heave, tossing it far behind her.
It sailed over the front of the gathered crowd, and Kim reached up at the last instant, and it landed right into her hand, as if Nikita had been aiming the whole time just for her.
Everyone laughed and cheered, and the crowd of women dispersed.
Next, Madeline pulled out a chair into the center of the floor, and Nikita sat down in it. It was time for Michael to remove the garter belt.
Michael dropped down to his knee's in front of Nikita, who sat with the skirt of her dress hiked up to her knee's.
Darren came up behind Michael and tied his wrists loosely behind his back. The howls and cheers from the surrounding crowd rose and Michael had to slid his head under the edge of the skirt to draw the garter off with his teeth.
Once Michael had shrugged his way past the volumes of Nikita's dress, he immediately discovered why She and her brides maids were grinning so much as the wedding began. Nikita had a knife sheathed to her thigh on the outside, and a slim chrome styled automatic on the inside.
Michael pulled the snap loose with his teeth, and then bit onto the handle of the knife with his teeth, and drew his head back.
The crowd watched as Michael's' head reappeared, but instead of holding a barter between his teeth, he had the handle of the knife.
The crowd roared. Michael dropped the knife down next to him, and went through the routine of burrowing underneath Nikita's skirts again.
This time, he worked her gun free of it's holster. Again, the crowd howled and roared when Michael's head reappeared with the gun, and not the garter belt. He bent down, carefully setting the gun on the floor.
He licked his lips, and straightened his shoulders, making a show of going in again.
This time, he grasped the garter with his teeth, see-sawing back and forth as he drew it down her leg. He worked it down past her knee, where it went slack. Nikita raised up her leg, to make it easier for him. Michael knocked her shoe off as he came to her heel, and then drew it completely off her foot. The crowd went wild.
Michael pulled his hands free of the loose strap around his wrist, and resheathed Nikita's gun, then her knife by hand.
Nikita grinned mischievously.
Later on, Michael indulged in George and Operations for a little while, while they talked politics and policy. He excused himself quickly when he saw Jonathan closing in on Alexandra, and quickly whisked her onto the dance floor again, and caught Nikita's approving smile. Nikita had been dancing with Stephen at the moment. There had been at time when Michael wouldn't have wanted Stephen anywhere near her - but that old problem had seemed to have been laid to rest. The past was in the past.
The song ended, and Michael and Stephen gracefully switched partners. Michael held Nikita close, his arms tight around her, his eye's melting into hers.
Alexandra had managed to slip away from the crowd and she'd walked out onto the deck outside, and looked up at the stars in the sky. It was almost as if the stars themselves had decided to sparkle a little brighter for the occasion. A gentle breeze made one of the loose tendrils of her hair fly across her face, and she reached up, and tucked it behind her ear.
The outside deck was dark, the night air a fraction cooler than the ballroom. Sounds of the outside city drifted up softly.
I want a cigarette so bad . . . Alexandra thought to herself, and I want to be out here with Darren, to slip into his arms so we can watch the stars together. You can't afford to be so week Alex! What would have happened to you if Michael hadn't been there to cover for you? If Nikita hadn't? What happens if he doesn't come back? You can't afford the weakness!
"Hiding?" Kristie's voice called from behind her.
Alexandra turned around, seeing the blonde walking up behind her.
"Is it so obvious?" Alexandra asked her.
"No," Kristie reassured her, "But I figured if I was . . ."
Alexandra laughed softly, "From Stephen?"
"And Casey. He's on the security detail and he needs to remember why he's here - security," Kristie told her, "You hiding from Darren?"
"Mostly," Alexandra sighed, "I can't afford to need him - he doesn't understand it - and I think he finally got tired of me being afraid."
Kristie nodded, "Ah . . .are you wishing he was still pursuing you?"
Alexandra shook her head, "No, I just . . . tonight I really want to just forget about it, give in . . . and I can't. It isn't fair to him or me."
Kristie sighed, "I want to tell you something."
Alexandra looked over at her friend, "If you're going to tell me that night with Darren wasn't your fault, I've heard it a hundred times - and I know you mean it."
"Good," Kristie said, "But that wasn't it. It's about Casey. You asked about him the other day."
Alexandra nodded, "You're training him, right?"
Kristie blinked, surprised, "Did Madeline tell you? Or did he say something?"
Alexandra shook her head, "He's like a puppy - not your type. The only reason you'd do anything more than flirt with someone like him was if you were under orders."
Kristie sighed, "Shit - if Madeline thinks I'm being obvious, I've got problems."
Alexandra shook her head, "Stephen is green with Jealousy - so Madeline is probably happy."
Kristie rolled her eyes, "Section strikes again. Between this and that mess with Darren, Stephen and I are pretty much done."
Alexandra sighed, and put an arm around her friends shoulders, "I feel for ya girl, you know I do."
"At least Kim and Tony are doing well," Kristie sighed, "I'd love to know their secret."
"She's not a cold op," Alexandra told Kristie, "And so many men don't see past the cane, that there is virtually no competition. On top of that - Tony has that happy go lucky personality, but he's still forceful and virile enough . . . just good circumstances I guess. I hear she would have made a damn good cold op at one point."
"I don't know if that's good or bad," Kristie laughed, "But it really doesn't matter, does it."
Alexandra shook her head, "Nope. Darren did use her on a mission once - when we were short a female piece of bate. I hear she pulled it off beautifully."
Kristie grinned, "She could too . . ."
"Spying?" Stephen whispered softly, coming up behind Darren. Darren had been standing at the entrance to the porch, watching Alexandra and Kristie.
"Every chance I get," Darren told him, "Serious female bonding going on out there."
"So why aren't you whisking Alex off to some hotel room, and convincing her that she's wrong?" Stephen asked him.
Darren drew in a deep breath, "She might be right. Maybe I'm a liability for her. We have changed a lot. Sometimes I get damn tired of seeing her with other men - targets. I don't like to share. I never have gotten used to how easy it is for her to do some things . . ."
Stephen listened, and watched Kristie, "I know what you mean."
"It's been two hours, we could slip out of here soon," Michael whispered.
Nikita grinned up at him, her eye's sparkling. She wanted to slip out of here very badly. She wanted out of this dress, she wanted to feel her body melt into Michael's, she wanted to start the two weeks that would be a real honeymoon for them.
"I'd like that," she replied, her voice husky, soft.
The song ended, and they stopped in the middle of the floor, standing there for a moment, not willing to let go so easily.
"I'll go tell the ladies we're going upstairs," Nikita said softly.
It was Kim that Nikita saw first, standing with Tony, talking with some other cold ops.
"Michael and I are going to disappear," Nikita told Kim, "I just wanted to say Thank you, to both of you, before we left."
Kim grinned, and hugged Nikita, "You have a wonderful honeymoon - and don't think about Section at all - OK?"
"Deal," Nikita answered back, "Tony - thank you."
"Anytime," Tony told her, and hugged Nikita back, "If you're looking for the rest of the wedding party - Alexandra and Kristie went out onto the deck - and Stephen and Darren are spying on them."
Nikita had to laugh. This didn't surprise her at all.
Word spread fast. When Nikita came back into the ballroom after going to see Kristie and Alexandra, the crowd was waiting for them, with little vials of blowing bubbles.
Michael stood off to the side, waiting for her, his gaze intense, seductive, and loving. This is it . . .
Nikita slid her fingers into Michael's, and in that way they could communicate silently, they both ran through the small passageway formed by the crowd, racing out of the ballroom.
The honeymoon suite was on the top floor - a dizzying height of 30 floors into the air. They stood in the private elevator, hand in hand. Just as it was about to stop, Michael scooped Nikita up into his arms, careful not to snag her dress on anything.
Nikita laughed, and it sounded like music to Michael's ears. The doors slid open, and Michael carried her out, and down to their door.
There were only two suits on this floor, and a steward manned the hallway. He saw them coming, and opened the door for them. Michael whisked Nikita through the door, and gently set her down on the bed.
"One moment," he whispered huskily, and pressed a kiss to her lips.
Michael strode back to the door, and stepped outside.
"I'd like to have a bottle of your finest champagne sent up chilled, right away, with two glasses. Tomorrow morning, I want French crapes with fresh fruit and coffee brought up at 7:00 am," Michael told him slipping him a 100 dollar bill.
"Yes sir," the steward said, "And if you need anything else, don't hesitate to ask."
Michael went back into the room, closing the door behind him.
"What are you up to?" Nikita asked him, swinging her legs off the end of the bed.
"I ordered champagne," Michael told her, his accent seeming to come out more now than earlier. He dropped down to one knee in front of her. He grasped her shoe, and slipped it off, then the other. Then he slid his hands up her thigh, his fingers pressing her flesh as he moved, caressing, stroking.
Michael slowly unfastened the leather strap that held the knife sheath and gun holster in place, and set them on the bed side table. Then, he slowly started to roll down her stocking, his fingers brushing her bare flesh as he went.
The stocking pooled at her ankle, and Michael gently eased it off her foot. Then his hands moved to her other leg, his hand sliding up, his fingers stroking her flesh through her stocking as he moved up.
Nikita watched him, her lips parted, her pulse racing, her breathing becoming more and more ragged. She felt the brush of his hand on her flesh as he slid the stocking down her leg, and then off of her foot.
Then, Michael gently pulled her to her feet, and turned her around. Nikita felt his hands at the top of the gown, where the buttons began, and she felt the first one give, then the next, and then another. A moment later, his lips started to follow the trail of heated flesh his fingers were leaving behind. Michael paused when he found a bra strap. He couldn't remember the last time Nikita had worn a bra. But under the circumstances . . .
He unclasped the bra strap, and continued to kiss his way down her back.
Nikita had to grasp onto the bedpost to steady herself. He was seducing her - making every moment memorable. He was perfect that way. He thought of everything. She felt the last button give, and Michael's hands slid up her back, his fingers stroking along her sides, stroking the side curves of her breasts as he came back up to ease the gown off her shoulders.
A moment later, the dress dropped down, sliding past her hips, to pool at her feet. Michael brushed the bra straps off her shoulders, his hands sliding around to cup her breasts, gently squeezing, cupping, his fingers stroking across her nipples, his mouth brushing her neck, his breath hot and moist, sent shivers down her spine, the contrast of room temperature air on her flesh and his hot breath making her feel more vulnerable, more exposed, and so aroused. He finding that sensitive area of flesh just behind her ear, and pressed his mouth to her tender flesh there, telling her in actions how much he adored her, how much he wanted her . . .
Then, he turned her around, and dropped down onto one knee again. Nikita watched, mesmerized as Michael pressed tiny kisses to the curve of her hip. Each one electric, a brand to her flesh as his lips moved, and he slowly started to ease the thin straps of her lace thongs down her hips.
Nikita moaned in pleasures as his lips continued their tender assault, and a moment later, she felt his finger trip tracing the aroused wet cleft of her nether lips, his stroking parting her, enflaming her, driving her insane with need.
"Michael," she moaned.
He chuckled, pushing her back onto the bed, the thongs now part of the pool of clothing on the floor. He knelt between her parted thighs, still tracking the moist folds of flesh with just a finger tip, his lips just an inch or so away, letting her feel his hot breath on her most sensitive flesh. Nikita quivered in anticipation.
It was then that the steward knocked on the door.
"Merde!" Michael swore softly, "We picked the only hotel in all of NewYork that's actually prompt!"
Nikita giggled, and pushed herself up into a sitting position, "Hurry."
Michael forced himself to his feet, and went back out into the foyers, to answer the door. When he reached the door, he found himself automatically checking through the peep hole. Some habits would never die.
Seeing the steward only, with the bottle of champagne and the ice bucket, Michael opened the door.
Nikita stretched, sighing in relief, in anticipation. She really was Nikita Samuelle. Michael's wife . . .
As if he knew what she was thinking, Michael walked back into the bedroom, and said, "Champagne Mrs. Samuelle?"
Nikita's eyes flew open, her gaze hungry, greedy for Michael. He had no right to look so damn good dressed in a tux. Good enough to eat, and tonight, she could feast.
"Oh yes, my husband."
Michael felt his heart swell with joy, hope and even a little fear. This could be all they hoped for, what made the worst of times worthwhile. Or, it could be a tool for section to use against them.
But tonight, they'd celebrate the joy and hope.
Michael strode over, setting the glasses down, he poured to glasses. When Nikita reached for one, he pulled it away.
"Allow me," He whispered, his voice whisper soft, a caress.
Nikita licked her lips unconsciously, and Michael had to fight to control himself. He held her glass to her lips, letting her sip some of the wine . . .
Then poured it down her body, starting at her breasts, and stopping at the apex of her thighs. Nikita shrieked at the sudden assault of cold liquid on her heated flesh. But before a complaint could pass her lips, Michael's tongue started to blaze it's own trail of liquid fire, lapping up every drop, moving over her breasts, suckling the sweet wine from her nipples, then over her stomach, delving inside the dimple there and then farther down, stroking and laving up every bit of the sweet champagne that came in the bottle, and then the wine that was distinctly Nikita's own. She found herself arching her back, pushing her hips up to meet his tender assault, while Michael carefully stroked, caressed and tasted every bit of flesh she had. He felt her body convulse under his mouth, felt her hands in his hair, heard her cry out his name, her voice throaty with need.
Michael rose up above her, gazing down at her with all the love he never thought he'd be able to feel, and quickly shed his tux. He'd been rock hard since he'd carried her into the room, and now he felt ready to burst, his need for her was so great. With slow panther like grace, Michael moved over her, gazing down at the woman who'd been able to so completely capture his very soul. For her, he'd do anything, he loved her that much. And because she'd never ask him to choose between her and what he was, he loved her that much more.
Now he knelt, with the tip of his member just the point where her body opened for him, and he reached up to stroke her face.
"I love you, Mrs. Samuelle."
And he slid home, her body tightly gripping him, telling him he was where he belonged.
The end - until the next story at least!
Continue on to While you were on your honeymoon . . .