Evaluation

By Kimberly, with many many many parts by ONE LOBO

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E-mail One Lobo

       Madeline watched Jeremy carefully. The way he held his hands, the way he made eye contact, when he didn't, his facial expressions, the tension level in his shoulders. He was worried, bordering on panic. It had not been her decision to promote him to the position of a Level 5 operative. Oversight had been involved and Operations felt he was a good fit.

       Madeline thought that he could be a little too cocky at times. The people on his team didn't respect him; they feared him. Not that fear wasn't a good motivator, but you had to have balance. Jeremy simply couldn't work well with an unruly crowd.  And that was exactly what a lot of Section cold ops were. To compensate, he was brutal. He got results often though - which made Oversight happy.

       But with something as important as the Alton mission - they needed a leader who could pull back and reorganize. Many of the cold ops knew that they should have pulled back, but they'd all been afraid to do or say anything. It wouldn't have been that way had it been Michael or Nikita.

       It had cost them several lives - and while they expected to lose operatives from time to time, they didn't like to waist lives unnecessarily. It had also resulted in massive exposure, and they completely lost any trace of Black Moon.

       Running past the grounds' crew and dismissing them was a huge tactical error - and none of them should have made it. But Section instructed their cold ops from day one to follow orders. This time, out of fear of the leader they had to work with, they'd followed orders to the extent that they ignored their own training. It was bad news all around.

       Michael was in the room as well. He was present because Alexandra was his material, and her conduct was half of the reason this discussion was taking present. Michael was also, unofficially - the next head of Section One so he had begun to take on the duties of head strategist as well.

       "So you sent your people right passed the grounds crew?" Operations demanded.

       There was a video panel along one wall, showing the different members of Oversight. There were small cameras set to transmit Madeline, Operations, Michael, and whoever was being questioned at the time. This was being done teleconference style.

       "I had no Intel that told me that they weren't grounds crew!" Jeremy argued, "The location changed at the last minute and I didn't think it was worth the risk of losing the target to stand back and reorganize."

       Madeline cleared her throat, "We have already developed the problem with the accuracy of Intel. When you sent three teams running past the grounds crew, how did you intend to deal with the witnesses?"

        "I wasn't," He spit out, "I thought that had been covered already. NSA was going to take responsibility."

       Madeline looked directly at the camera in front of her, "Does anyone have anymore questions about the assault itself?"

       Everyone shook their heads, grumbled or muttered no.

       Madeline turned her gaze to Jeremy again, "When did you notice that Alexandra was not with the rest of her team?"

       "She ran for the south end of the building shortly after the fighting started." Jeremy told them.

       "Did you order her not to?" Madeline asked him.

       "I was too busy trying to contain the target," he replied, "I didn't expect her to be a problem."

       "No, of course not," Madeline said, as if agreeing, "What was it that she did when she got to the south area of the building?"

       "She hid in some bushes," Jeremy replied.

       "She hid?" One of the officials from Oversight asked, "Be more specific."

       "Specifically I saw her go into a bush, and not come out for several moments," Jeremy told them.

       "Then what did she do?" Madeline asked.

       "She ran over towards Cindy and Paul, two very new cold ops," Jeremy said, "I thought that she was going to use them for cover."

       "What happened when she reached them?" Madeline asked calmly.

       "I had given the order to abort the mission," Jeremy began, "She returned to the van."

       "Did she assist anyone in getting back to the van?" Madeline asked.

       "I wasn't watching for that," He replied.        "But you were watching to see if she was hiding in the bushes, or using other operatives for cover?" Someone from Oversight asked.

       "I just noticed it," Jeremy replied, "I don't have eyes in the back of my head."

       Michael had remained quiet throughout all of the questioning, "Birkhoff - show the tactical display for the mission."

       Birkhoff, who had been sitting off to the side, out of camera view, punched in a few keys, and the display came up.

       Michael remained in his seat, "Birkhoff - can you distinguish Alexandra?"

       One of the points became blue.

       "Run the sequence," Michael said calmly.

       Everyone watched as the dots spread out and converged on the structure that Jeremy's team had been told the target was in. As they watched, the building structure changed color to indicate the explosion, then the grounds crew had started to move in. Section cold ops started to scramble in response. Alexandra's blue dot crossed along one side of the perimeter to an area showing the heaviest of fighting, There was some jerky movements of her dot while it hovered around the bush and another cold op. Then the blue dot moved out into the open again, after only a few moments, and headed towards three section cold ops, designated as the Cindy and Paul, but she came around in a wide arch, and then up to the side of them. Then Alexandra's blue dot moved very closely with Paul's dot, heading for the van.

       "Birkhoff, stop the sequence here," Michael asked, his voice calm, smooth.

       Michael looked at Jeremy, "At which point did you see her use Cindy and Paul for cover?"

       "I . . . from where I stood . . .  I thought she was taking cover from the target - on the screen it's the dot listed as target 9. She's directly opposite that target for a while."

       "Birkhoff, re-run the sequence from the time when she leaves the bushes," Michael asked calmly.

       The sequence started again, changing back to Alexandra's blue dot leaving the bushes. Target 9 didn't move or react at all. Three targets fanned out directly in front of and off to the west of Cindy and Paul, flickered and stopped.

       "Birkhoff - For Oversight, can you tell me which targets are down right now?" Michael asked.        

Birkhoff cleared his throat, "They don't glow as much when they are down, they don't move. We're picking up resonance. On this screen, target 9, 3, 7, 2, 14, 12 are all down. They are not quite as bright of an orange. Would you like me to alter the color structure to make it clearer?"

       "Please," Michael said calmly.

       The colors changed.

       "Re-run the sequence, from when she leaves the bush," Michael asked him.

       It showed the same wide arch, target 9 was down the entire time, and several other targets went down while she ran that arch to the two newer cold ops.

       Michael watched the screen for a moment, "I don't think she was taking cover from target 9 with two other colds ops. It would appear that she was coming to their aid. Birkhoff - who is the Section cold op in the bushes?"

       "Kristie," Birkhoff answered, "Analysis indicates that was the location she was injured at, approximately 48 seconds prior to Alexandra moving passed her."

       "Birkhoff," Michael began, "Run the sequence from the moment Alexandra starts moving with Paul, to the point when she goes back for Kristie."

       They all watched the blips scrambling across the screen. Alexandra reached the section van, paused for a moment, then went directly back into the field, straight for Kristie. The blips cut out a few moments after Alexandra's, and Kristie's blip started up again.

       "Is there where you think she was trying to run, and not rescue another cold up?" Michael asked.        

       Jeremy was furious, "She disobeyed a direct order!"

       "Yes," Michael replied, "She did. We're not discussing that issue at the moment. Is this were you felt she was attempting to run away from Section?"

       "I had no way of knowing where she was going!" Jeremy snapped.

       "Did you pursue her or try to physically stop her?" Michael asked calmly.

       "No," Jeremy sighed discustedly, "I felt it was a lost cause at the moment."

       "Did you  say to everyone present that Kristie wouldn't be security risk for long?" Michael asked him.

       "Yes," Jeremy snarled.

       "Did Alexandra say she would go back for her?" Michael asked him.

       "Yes," Jeremy snarled.

       Michael looked at the panel of Oversight members, "Should I leave the sequence up?"

       Everyone shook their heads no.

       "I have nothing else to ask Jeremy," Michael directed his statement to Madeline.

       "Jeremy," Madeline said calmly, "You can go. Kristie should be waiting in the hall. Send her in."

       A few moments later, a Med lab tech rolled Kristie into the room in a wheelchair, wrapped in blankets with an IV hanging down over her.

       "We'd like to ask you a few questions about what happened on the Alton mission," Madeline began.

       Kristie nodded.

       She was questioned about the sequence of events, when they got new, and Intel how Jeremy handled it. They quizzed her on when she saw Alexandra, and what she did. Kristie told them that Alexandra tripped over her and that she was going to help the newer cold ops, stuck in the worse of the fighting. Then she came back helped Kristie to safety.

       "That's all," Madeline said, "Take her back to Med lab."

       The tech stepped forward.

       "Wait!" Kristie said, "Can I point something out?"

       "If you think it's something we should know," Madeline told her.

       "Alex has a tracker placed subcutaneously, and it's a listening device as well. The knife she was going to use to get a chunk of cement out of my leg could have also been used to cut out the tracker. I know part of this inquiry is to investigate the allegation that she was going to run. I don't see how she could have even been considering it. She had all the means to make it look like she died - but she didn't."

       Someone on the Oversight committee asked, "How do you know she wasn't planning on running, after the tornado hit?"

       "She had the opportunity," Kristie told them, "She was able to dig out, I couldn't. At that point, we knew Section had written us off for dead. She knew she wasn't transmitting because she couldn't hear any response back from her tracker - the subcutaneous one. She could have ran, and Section could only assume she was dead - along with the other people lost in the field to the tornado. The only witness - myself - could have been left for dead in the cellar. If she had any intention of running, she could have left me in the field from the start. Instead, she helped me and herself to safety, waited the storm out, and contacted Section."

       There were no other questions.

***

       Alexandra didn't know what time it was. The lights were on all the time, there was no clock, nothing to indicate anything to her. She didn't know what day it was, if it was night or. She received meals, but she couldn't judge the time between them well. She was just starting to get hungry when they were delivered, so it would seem that there was a reasonable time span between them.

        She was still dressed in the same filthy clothing she'd worn since she left for Alton. She'd had no visitors at all. Judging from the meals that had come and gone, she reasoned she'd been in the cell for two days.

       Then the door opened suddenly. Three large security guards stood there, one of them asked her to turn around, and to put her hands behind her back. She soon felt handcuffs being closed around her wrists. Alexandra wondered if she was being canceled. Would they take her elsewhere? She'd thought that they would be investigating - that's why she had to wait. Wouldn't Madeline question her in the cell, rather than take her elsewhere though?

       They walked her across the main floor. Several people stopped to watch, to stare at her. Darren was in planning, and looked up at her. His expression was sorrowful. Alexandra felt her stomach twist in knots. They were going to cancel her . . .

       She expected to be marched down another hall, but instead, they lead her into the conference room.

       Alexandra almost hesitated when she walked in, her hands still cuffed behind her.

       "Have a seat," Madeline told her, "You can remove her restraints."

       The guard took them off of her. Alexandra sat down in the chair, and looked around the room. Michael, Madeline and Operations were present, and Birkhoff was back and off to the side. There were video panels displaying several other people. She knew it had to be Oversight.

       They questioned her about the sequence of events, right up to the point when Michael retrieved her and Kristie from the field hospital.

       Michael spoke up at the end, "Alexandra - you realize that your loyalty to Section has been questioned here, correct?"

       "Yes," Alexandra said calmly. She was irritated and pissed beyond belief. But she knew better than to show it here and now. Not when death was just down the hall for her.

       Michael watched her carefully. He hadn't been able to get to her, and warn her about her behavior when faced with Oversight. He prayed to god she'd behave herself for once.

       "The night you met with Carlson you gave him a warning; do you remember what it was?" Michael asked her.

       Alexandra took a deep breath, "I . . . I warned him not to cross me, not to use me to get to Section."

       "Birkhoff, play back the surveillance transmission for the night Alexandra met with Carlson, at 2023 hours," Michael requested.

       Alexandra's voice was played over the speakers in the room.

       "Listen, and listen carefully," She started, "This thing, will be when I want it. I can't and won't offer you any kind of fidelity. If you try to use me to get to Section, I'll destroy you myself, and I'll make Madeline look like Mother Theresa."

       Alexandra felt her stomach turn over. She knew what Michael's intention was. He was saving her butt.

       But she also knew that Oversight would figure out she'd been sleeping with the Carlson.

       "Fidelity meaning what?" Someone from Oversight asked.

       It was Madeline that answered, "To keep Carlson under control, we play on his emotions for Alexandra, which are very strong. He believes he's in love with her. As long as he is feeding us what we want to know, she spends time with him. He's attracted to a strong female figure. That's what she provides for him. But He's also high risk for selling out Section One. She has to walk a very fine line with him."

       "Could he be a possible escape point for her?" Someone from Oversight asked.

       "Very," Madeline told them, "He has good resources. The recovery time would be two weeks. Her psychological profile doesn't suggest she's high risk to run at all. She has set down roots inside Section. She has a strong network of friends within Section, and her source of emotional strength is that network. Her incidents of not following orders consistently involve rescuing or assisting a teammate. Her compassion is something she's worked hard to change from a weakness, to a strength. She's done very well with it so far."

       It was George who spoke up then, who'd remained silent throughout the entire conference, "So what you're essentially saying, is that this allegation is unjustified."

       "Yes," Madeline said calmly, "Are there any other questions?"

       No one had any.

       "You can go," Madeline told her, "Stay in Section Alexandra.

       Alexandra nodded, stood up, and walked out. She walked out across the main floor of Section, and saw several people converging on her at once, all curious, and all relieved to see her walking unguarded. Everyone fired questions at her at once though.

       She stood there, soaking in the attention. She knew she had friends inside Section, but it felt good to be worried about - to be cared for.

       "OK! OK! When I was in there, they questioned me about some events,  played back some transmissions, and Madeline gave a psyche profile in my favor. Between all that and Kristie telling them that I'd had ample opportunity to run and didn't, I'm OK for the moment," Alexandra told them all, "I have no idea what's still going on with Jeremy. Now - can someone please tell me where my dog is?"

       Her request earned her a couple laughs.

        "Darren has him - and I think Darren's in planning," Walter told her, "He's had him everytime  he hasn't been on a mission."

       Alexandra raised an eyebrow, "Weaning him off the gunpowder huh?"

       Walter laughed, "A little gunpowder never hurt anyone!"

       Alexandra laughed with Walter, and turned to head for Planning. She wanted to pick up Pepe, give herself a bath, curl up in her quarters and take a nap.

       Planning was on the far side of comm, and encased mostly in glass. As she walked up, she saw Darren look up, relief plain on his features. He was alone inside the room. Pepe was curled up on a chair, and he perked up when Darren noticed her coming. He then jumped down, tail wagging furiously.

       Alexandra opened the door, and the Chihuahua leapt up at her, expecting her to catch him. She did.        

       "Hey there," Alexandra said sweetly, and nuzzled his neck, "I missed my little baby!"

       Darren felt immense relief. She was walking around without a guard. He knew Oversight was meeting today and that her fate was being discussed.  He'd sat in here, unable to concentrate. He'd gone through so many scenarios in his mind - what would he do if they'd decided to cancel her . . .?

       He could grab her, and run, but it would be difficult to even get out of Section. They'd be on the run, and eventually found, and killed. A few days with her, to work some things out, would have made it worth while he thought.

       But he had to get her out of Section first. That had been the hard part - one which  he'd contemplated for hours.

       "What's up?" she asked, grinning ear to ear, "You look like you've just seen a ghost!"

       "I just . . ." Darren said softly, watching her like a starved man, "I thought you were really done for this time . . . and I was kinda freaked . . ."

       She smiled, "I make my bed, I lie in it."        

       Darren drew in a deep breath, "Yeah . . . well . . . I was worried."

       She smiled at him, "Thanks . . . I'm uh . . . I was gonna go grab a shower. I'm feeling kinda grungy."

       Darren's gaze was feral. Every move she made, he watched, memorized to tuck back into his memory. He stood up, and walked towards her, his steps slow, measured. Like a predator stalking its prey.

       She swallowed hard, "Well, I'll see you later. Thanks for watching Pepe for me."

***

       She slipped out of planning, and went straight to her quarters. She set Pepe on the bed, stripped off her cloths and stepped into the shower, and started to aggressively scrub soap into her hair and skin. She was bent over, rinsing her hair out, when she heard the shower curtain being pulled back. She flinched back, her hands reaching to cover herself. Darren stood there, naked, his shaft thick, hard and jutting out, his gaze feral, passion filled. He pulled her hands away from her body, his eye's traveling up and down her body, lingering on her breasts a little, the thatch of dark curls at the apex of her thighs. He moved close to her, his hands pulling her body in close to his, molding her to him. Alexandra shuddered with pleasure, feeling his thickness pressing against her. He tilted  her back a little, into the water, one hand still around her hips, his hand cupping her butt, the other sifting through her hair, rinsing it out. With her upper body bent back and her breast jutting out, Darren lowered his head, taking one erect peak into his mouth, and suckled her firmly, nipping at her with his teeth. Alexandra trembled in his arms, totally at his mercy and enjoying being there.

       He stepped back from her, his hands stroking down her body, feeling, caressing, memorizing. He dropped down to one knee, and lifted her leg, resting it on his shoulder, his gaze holding hers. They both knew what was coming. It was something they'd considered a must when they were together, non negociatable. He enjoyed doing it to her as much as she enjoyed having it done.

       He parted her labia with his fingers, and stroked his tongue along the cleft of pink flesh, starting at her vaginal opening, tasting her, thrusting his tongue inside her. His thumb started to stroke back and forth over her clit for a few moments, then his tongue moved forward, stroking over the sensitive bud firmly, alternating between circling around it and stroking over the top. His slid one finger inside her, stroking against the front wall of her vaginal canal, then drew his finger back, and slid two of them in , slowly, deliberately, carefully moving on her flesh. A few minutes later, her body convulsed around him, her orgasm making her cry out softly in pleasure.

       Unwilling to let her come down soon, her reached out for his jeans, and pulled a condom out of the pocket, tore the packet open and slid it on.

       He stood up, and with his hands under her butt, he lifted her up against the wall, pushing her thighs wide apart, and slid into her.

       She moaned softly in pleasure as he buried himself deep inside her, making her flesh stretch just a little. He paused, waiting for her to adjust, and his hand cupped her face, his fingers stroking across her lips. He bent his face down to hers, his tongue stroking along her lip line, then delving inside, tasting her. He trailed his lips and tongue across her cheek, then to her neck, up to the flesh just behind her ear, and nipped at her flesh.

        She gasped in pleasure, wrapping her legs around his hips as he thrust into her. He moved to kiss his neck, her mouth hungrily kissing and licking at him, and she moved to his shoulder.

       Then the tension inside her exploded, and her whole body convulsed in pleasure, her orgasm shaking her to the very core.

       Darren was vaguely aware of her teeth sinking into his flesh, but the slight pain only served to spur him on, and he thrust into her even harder, his own release taking him over the edge with her.

       Both bodies still trembling, Darren eased her down from the wall, and held her close for a few minutes.

       The sound of a pager going off startled both of them. Darren swore softly, and reached out for his jeans, and titled his pager up so he could see it. He shook his head, pressed one more searing kiss to her mouth, and stepped out of the shower.

        Alexandra leaned back against the wall to catch her breath, and when she stepped out of the shower herself, he was gone.

       She dressed quickly, and settled onto her bed with Pepe, only then considering that neither one of them had said one word throughout the entire encounter.

***        

       Med lab. The sterile rubbing alcohol smell. The cold hard looking walls. It was all efficiency and economy. Not the most aesthetically designed place in Section. Very little was in fact - but Med lab had a feel all it's own.

       And in this room of infinite order and cleanliness, Kristie was feeling like she sorely in need of a bath. Med lab staff would give her a sponge bath in bed every other day. That was it - they were busy - and didn't feel it necessary to do much else. However Kristie liked to be clean and she was going insane. She still felt a little weak from the raging infection she was fighting off. It amazed her how easy it was for a drug to kill infection - that same drug now dripped down in her arm through an IV - yet she could feel so filthy on the outside.

       She was bored now too. She was awake enough to wish for something to do, to read or to watch. Med lab wasn't exactly a feast of visual stimuli.

       Then, the door snapped open, and a feast walked through. He was wearing snug jeans, a soft material shirt, and today his arm was out of the sling.

       "How's your arm?" She asked him.

       "Fine," Stephen replied, "I returned to full status today. I'll be back out in the field tomorrow."

       Kristie nodded, sighing, "I'm looking at two months of in station duty. What the hell am I going to do?"

       "Assist in comm," Stephen replied gently.

       Kristie groaned, "I like the field better."

       Stephen brushed her hair back from her face, "You like the adrenaline."

       She closed her eye's, turning her face into his hand. Stephen stroked his fingers over her cheek, "And you've been lonely in here."

       She opened her eye's, "I've been lonely a lot longer than that - but yeah. And I'm feeling slimy. I can't get anyone from Med lab to give me a bath daily - and I can't quite take a shower alone yet. I hate this."

       Stephen glanced up at the clock on the wall. He had two hours until his next mission went live.

       "I'll help you," he said softly.

       Kristie felt liquid head rush through her veins, and settle just in the pit of her stomach. Stephen, and the shower . . .

       He walked away from her, and pulled a new set of Med lab clothing out of a cabinet, and two towels, and set them on the bench inside the shower. Then he gabbed the protective vinyl sleeve to put over the cast. He came back, slid the vinyl sleeve over her leg, unhooked her IV from the pole, handed it to her, and carried her into the shower stall.

       A plastic chair was already sitting in the middle of tiled shower area, and he stood her up in front of it, eased the draw string pants down her legs, then set her down in the chair. He pulled the tank top up and off and quickly shed his own clothing, and locked the door to the shower room.

       "Locked alone in a room," Kristie teased him, "We've never done it in a shower."

       Stephen turned the showerhead away from her, turned on the water, and adjusted the temperature, "Or in a chair."

       Kristie felt ready to spring on him, her injured leg be damned. How could he be so damn calm! She felt him turn the chair around, and he started to rinse her down, rinsing her hair out, while she sat in the chair. He pulled her up, so she leaned against his body, and turned her back into the shower.

       Kristie wrapped her arms around his bare chest, and pressed her lips to him, her tongue tracing a line across his pecs to his nipple, her tongue dancing and flickering over it. She could feel his heart pounding in chest, and she grinned, her lips closing over his nipple to suckle. She was getting to him.

       Stephen had reached up for the shampoo, and hesitated a moment, enjoying the feel of her suckling on him. But they had to get this shower done, and get her back into bed. If they were in here too long, Med lab staff would start knocking on the door.

       He poured some of the shampoo into his hand, and started to work it through her hair. Next came the soap, and he lathered up a wash cloth. Then he started to stroke it down her back, then her buttocks.

       He reluctantly set her back into the chair, pulling her lips from his chest, and started to wash her legs, her arms, saving her chest, stomach and more sensitive area's for last.

       "You're awful clinical," Kristie complained, teasingly.

       Stephen had squatted down in front of her, working up her last leg, "I am so close to bending you over that chair . . . do you want a bath or not?"

       "I want both," She told him, reaching out of for him.

       Stephen grabbed her hand, and pressed a kiss to her palm, "Patience."

       She groaned in frustration.

       He started on her chest, playing the slightly rough feel  of the cloth over her breasts. Kristie let her head loll back, and she parted her legs a little more as he moved down her stomach. He moved between her thighs, stroking the cloths along the tender flesh of her thighs, then her passion swollen labia. She trembled in her need, moaning softly as he stroked her.

       Stephen grabbed the shower head again, and dropped the wash cloth on the floor. He replaced the  wash cloth with his fingers, sliding one finger inside her, his thumb stroking over her clit, and turned the warm water on her body, rinsing the soap away.

       He withdraw his finger, and turned the chair, so the water came down to rinse out her hair. Stephen moved over her, and gently tilted her head back into the water.

       He rubbed the head of his cock down her stomach, to tease her. He traced a path along the crease of her thighs, then between her sensitive labia, making her squirm with need. She tried to thrust her hips up to him, but he'd anticipated that, and held her still.

       He slid just the head of his cock inside her, "Is this what you want?"

       She moaned, "Yes, Damn you! Hurry!"

       Stephen chuckled, and slide deeper inside her, burying himself to the hilt, the tip just touching her cervix. Kristie groaned in pleasure, trying to press up into him. Stephen pulled back, then thrust back into her.

       He watched her, enjoying the look of pure pleasure that consumed her features. Her lips were parted just slightly and her breasts  bouncing with each thrust. He knew she was close. Her muscles had tightened around him, holding him to her like he was her salvation. Her lowered his head down to her breast, and took one nipple into his mouth, and suckled hard, then nipped with his teeth. It was too much. Ecstasy exploded within her, and Stephen felt her muscles squeezing him, and he let his own release come, spilling inside her.

        Thank god for depo shots, He thought to himself.

       "Stephen," she moaned softly, plaintively, holding him down over her, her body still trembling.

       He lifted his mouth from her breast, and kissed her mouth.

       He pulled them both up out of the chair, and into the spray of the shower, rinsing off any remains of soap, and evidence of their lovemaking.

       Suddenly, there was a loud knock at the door.

       "Kristie! are you in there?" the voice asked.

       Kristie looked up at Stephen, her eye's wide, and full of mirth. She grinned. They'd been caught.

       "Yeah!" She called out, "I'll be out in a few minutes."

       "You shouldn't be in there alone!" the voice called, "Unlock the door!"

       Kristie couldn't help but giggle a little.

       "I've got some help in here with me!" she called back, "We're doing just fine!"

       Silence.

       Stephen's face was still colored with the embarrassment of being caught, and tension stood out prominently in his posture.  He looked like a cornered dog, scared, and pissed.  Kristie put a hand over her mouth to stifle the giggles that kept pouring out, with little success.  As she watched Stephen frantically rinsing off, she grabbed the handrail that ran the length of the shower and pulled herself, chair, cast, and all, toward the door.  Even if Stephen hadn't, Kristie had recognized that voice.  She cracked the door open just an inch or so, and met Kim's bright blue eyes with her own.

       "Are you okay?  I thought you may have needed some help in there.  I know the MedLab crew is pretty short-handed and…" Kim began to notice the grin on Kristie's face, and the way her eyes gleamed with amusement, and paused.

       "I've got some, umm, help…in here with me.  But, thanks for worrying about me!"  Kristie nearly lost her fight with the giggles again, and saw that her infectious grin had spread to Kim.

       "Ahhh, Stephen's back huh?  I knew sooner or later, he'd come around, pardon the pun,"  Kim grinned, "and it looks like you need to turn that hot water down a little, that's a lot of steam coming out of there."

       "That steam isn't from the water temperature girlfriend…and it's gonna be quite a bit warmer in here for the next hour at least.  Do me a favor, could you stop into MedLab and tell one of the little stitcher-uppers that you checked on me, and that I'm just fine.  You'll be on my Christmas card list forever."  Kristie threw her a wink.

       Kim returned the wink, "I think I can do that.  Just be careful in there.  Don't do anything to tear those stitches open."

       "Are you kidding, I'm always up for injuries if that's how I'm getting them!  Thanks sweetie!  I owe you one." Kristie started closing the door, and Kim heard a husky laugh from Stephen just as she reached the MedLab door.  Grinning to herself, enjoying the knowledge that a couple could be happy inside Section, at least sometimes, she rehearsed her lie as she approached one of the Med techs.

***

       "Walter, I'd like you to meet your new assistant," Madeline used the soft and measured speech she always employed when approaching Walter from the back while he's working.

       "Who in the hell says I need an assistant?"  Walter started complaining as he spun his chair to face Madeline and his new 'headache'.  His complaining stopped abruptly as his gaze fell on not one set of beautiful legs, but two.  As his eyes continued upward, he found absolutely nothing to complain about.

       "As I was saying…Walter, this is Brianna.  She will be trained by you, and hopefully will become as invaluable as you are.  Her background and file is in this PDA, you may review it, and submit any questions or concerns to me.  Brianna, enjoy your time with Walter, he will introduce you to the others that you will be seeing the most frequently.  Everyone else, you'll meet in time.  If you have any questions or concerns, you may come see me whenever you need to."  

***

       Nikita was limping by the afternoon. She'd been off the crutches just starting today, and this morning she'd felt OK, however  this afternoon she stopped feeling so great. But at least she was walking on her own. She had an appointments set up each morning with physical therapists.

       She had just sat down behind her desk, when she heard someone rap softly on the door. Nikita looked up. Darren stood there, Pepe in his hands. The Chihuahua wagged his tail when she looked up.

       "I'm gonna take Alexandra home - I'll be back tomorrow at 7:00 am for the briefing. Call me if there's a problem with the profile."

       "Sure," Nikita told him, "Your place or Alex's?"

       Darren grinned, "Hopefully her place - she's in a good mood, so it's promising."

       Nikita grinned, "She say anything about the questioning?"

       Darren shook his head, "Nothing. I didn't ask either - just that she's in the clear."

       Nikita sighed deeply, "Sometimes the good guys win. I'll see you tomorrow."

       ***

       "That was such bullshit!" Kristie complained, "Jeremy knew what you were doing! He just wanted to get the attention off of him, and onto someone else!"

       Alexandra nodded, "Well, lucky for me it backfired. I know you testified for me. Thanks - I appreciate it."

       Kristie shook her head, "He was flat out lying. Be glad that Birkhoff was able to pull up a sequencing map for us. I bet that was convincing."

       Alexandra nodded, "There other things too - but between you and me, that sequence files, and the other little stuff - it's the combination that really saved my ass."

       Alexandra had set Pepe down, and Pepe climbed right up on Kristie's stomach, and licked her hand.

       Kristie smiled at him, and scratched his back.

       "Have you seen Stephen lately?" Alexandra asked her.

       Kristie chuckled, "Yeah, He came to see me earlier."

***

       Darren had a good idea why Nikita had called him to her office. His missions were a success - overall. There had been glitches. Those glitches stemmed from a lack of cooperation among team members. They didn't run as smoothly as her team did. Darren knew part of it was a lack of respect for his position as team leader. He'd been fair, made sure he was doing more than his share - he always had. He looked for solutions with the least risk to team members. Beyond that, he wasn't sure what else he could do.

       "How's your leg?" Darren asked her, as he walked in.

       Nikita sighed, "It's doing good. I should be back in the field in a few days. But that doesn't mean you're giving up leading teams."

       Darren nodded, "I don't know whether to be relieved or not."

       "Sit down, get comfortable," Nikita told him, "And close the door."

       Darren closed the door, and sat down across from her. She'd noticed his style of clothing had changed over the last few months. He still wore jeans, but it wasn't jeans and T-shirts. It was jeans and nicer shirts. Cotton oxfords, polo style, light designer knit shirts. His hair was worn down most of the time. It was pulled back into a pony tail for missions. Overall, the look was classier, more roughish in a sophisticated way. She wondered if he was even conscious of it. She knew part of it was that he felt he was competing for Alexandra's attention. And unfortunately he was.

       "You're team has a respect issue," Nikita told him, "They follow orders, barely. They break them, and they know you're going to find a way to fix it - which you should, you have to. That's your job. But you're being too fair to them."

       Darren blinked, "UH . . .OK."

       "The first team I lead - there was this woman on the team. She hated me. She'd start a conversation when I was talking. She wouldn't take a shot I ordered her to take," Nikita told him, "Michael told me that even if I wasn't ruthless, I had to appear to be ruthless. I didn't want to believe him at first, but it was true."

       Darren sighed, "That's the part I hate about this place Nikita - you don't have to be ruthless with us  . . ."

       "Yes I do," Nikita told him, "Everyone knows that as long as they do their job, things are fine. They also know that if they screw up, I'll make their lives miserable, or kick them off the team to deal with someone else - or they'll end up in abeyance. That's the message you have to send when you're building a team. Make sure you have someone rebellious on your team, control them - everyone else will fall in line."

       Darren sighed, "Any suggestions on who to pick, I've got so many to chose from."

       "Marc," Nikita told him, "He's been the most trouble - and the most likely to instigate trouble. Next time he even flinches, you make an example of him. Make sure he knows that he and anyone else can spend time in abeyance waiting for the next suicide mission."

       Darren sighed, "That could backfire on me too Nikita."

       "It won't if you're consistent," Nikita told him, "As a team leader - you're responsible for everything. The success of the mission comes first. Their safety comes second. If you don't have control of the team, they're not safe. That means that you never let up. They will fall in line, but you have to be consistent. You never apologize for anything. You never make exceptions."

       Darren nodded, not sure how he was going to pull this off, "Have you seen the tactical for tomorrow's mission?"

       Nikita nodded, "I did. Overall I thought it was well planned out - but you'll want to move Marc in closer to you - so you can see when he screws up. Tony is your best ally - you'll want him on the far end. He's also a good choice for point, but you need him bringing up the rear - he won't lag. Put Dan on point, you'll be right behind him, Marc behind you, and Tony bringing up the rear. Leave the rest of them where they are."

       "What about the charge placement?" Darren asked, "The sim showed that the reinforcements on the south side of the building would require four charges - that seems a little excessive."

       Nikita shook her head, "I'd place five of them. There's no reason to leave anything salvageable behind. You've built in more than enough time to retreat? "

       The intercom buzzed. Nikita hit the button, "Yes?"

       It was Birkhoff's voice, "Is Darren with you?"

       "Right here," Darren said loud enough so the intercom would pick it up.

       "You've had a team staffing change. Nikita was just sent an E-mail about it. You better read it soon."

       "Thanks Birkhoff," Nikita said, and hit the button to cut off the communication. She typed on her terminal for a moment, and opened up her in-house  E-mails.

       Darren waited in silence. He saw Nikita suddenly freeze, her expression surprised, dismayed, sorrowful. He felt his stomach twist in a knot. What the hell were they doing to him now?

       Nikita looked up at him, "Gina has been transferred to your team. Carol committed suicide this morning."

       Darren felt his jaw drop open, his breath catch in his throat. He'd seen Carol yesterday. She came into MedLab, complaining of severe headaches. She wanted something to help with the pain, just so she could get a good nights sleep. He'd never considered she might kill herself with it.

       "She came in  - went to MedLab for painkillers  - said she was having headaches," Darren breathed after a moment.

       Nikita sighed, "She didn't take pills. She shot her self with her own gun, Darren."

       Darren sighed, closed his eyes , and pinched the bridge of his nose. Had she been contemplating this last week - when he'd let her go home, instead of on the mission, because of the nausea? She'd seemed OK on the mission yesterday. In fact, she'd seemed rather up beat. Darren groaned out loud. Of course she'd been upbeat. She'd made her decision . . .

       "I . . . She was really happy yesterday Nikita . . . I took it for her feeling better. She'd already planned it."

       Nikita sighed, "I wouldn't have picked her out to commit suicide Darren. If she was going to do it, it's better that she do it herself, rather than be canceled or sent into abeyance. What she did was probably the most painless method possible."

       Darren sighed deeply, looking straight ahead with unseeing eyes. Instead, in his mind, he saw her on the mission. Her performance was great. She'd given Pepe a good scratch when she'd turned in her weapons.

       "Gina . . ." Darren said slowly, "Oh shit! Not the Gina that has a pissing match going on with Kim, is it?"

       "The one and only," Nikita told him, "You just might have two people to make examples out of."

       Darren groaned, "I . . . I really don't want to do this Nikita."

       Nikita sighed. She'd never really ridden Darren hard. She hadn't needed to. She wondered at the wisdom of not pushing him at times, and now was one of those times.

       "You don't have the luxury of a choice," Nikita told him, her voice soft, but firm, "It would be a lot easier if you stopped looking for a compromise and just did what you have to do."

       Darren looked back at her, "I hate getting violent with women - you know why! That's what it will take with Gina!"

       Nikita shrugged, "You don't have a choice. It could be worse. They could put Alex on your team."

       Darren rolled his eye's, "Christ no! She's good - but she makes up her own rules as she goes."

       "Exactly. That's why Michael uses her so much. He reigns her in, it keeps the team in line," Nikita told him, "I had to do it that way too."

***

       Kim looked past Tony's shoulder, "Darren's coming this way, and he isn't a happy looking man."

       Tony sighed, "Alex being released is about the only good news we've had around here lately . . ."

       Kim nodded, and nudged him with her foot, "So - you're coming over tonight, right? Dinner at my place."

       "Wouldn't miss it," Tony said quietly, and looked up as Darren walked over.

       "Kim, I need to talk to you about an addition to my team," Darren told her, pulling a chair over, and sitting on it - backwards, so he was straddling the backrest.

       Kim nodded, "OK . . .go on."

       "Gina is replacing Carol," Darren told her, "Not my first choice, but it's what I was given."

       Kim groaned, "Shit!"

       Tony sighed deeply.

       "I know there's a problem between you two from your last duty station," Darren told her, "I'll do my best to keep her in line. What I need from you, is to not rise to the bait. Shut her out - keep it professional, and when she starts trouble, I'll handle her. But it can backfire on me if you let her get to you."

       Kim shrugged, "I'll do my job. Just remember - she's got a taste for taking authority figures. Keep your pants buttoned."

       Darren groaned, "Believe me, I will. That's the last thing I need right now."

       She reached back, and picked up a CD, "The sims you asked for. This looks like it can be surgical - but there are a lot of opportunities for anomalies."

       Darren nodded, "Thanks Kim."

       He got up, and headed back to planning.

       "His hair is wet," Kim said after a moment, watching him leave, and she looked at Tony, "You get three guesses why - and the first two don't count."

       Tony grinned, "He went to see Alex while she was in the shower."

***

       Alexandra awoke to the sound of someone rapping loudly on her door. She sat up abruptly, "Hold on!"

       She'd slid into bed clad in panties and a tank top, so she grabbed up a pair of sweats, yanked them on, and scrambled for the door.

       She pulled the door open wide, and found Michael standing on the other side. She couldn't help but notice that his eyes strayed to her attire, her mussed hair, and then past her into the room. He looked calm, reserved,  but she sensed he was irritated.

       "Yes dad, I was alone," she said dryly, "I was napping. I didn't figure it would be totally acceptable to answer the door in my underwear."

       She felt Pepe brush her leg as he padded by her, and then she felt his tail hit her leg. She looked down, and found him rearing up on his hind legs, pawing at the air.

       Alexandra picked him up, sensing that Michael's mood was less than good.

       "Madeline wants to speak with you in her office," Michael told her, "I'll be present."

       Alexandra nodded, "Am I not in the clear?"

       "You are," Michael told her, "Get dressed."

       Alexandra felt like telling him she was dressed enough, but she held her tongue, "How long do I have?"

       "Half an hour," Michael told her, "Don't be late."

       Alexandra closed the door. Michael hoped she changed clothes before she went up there. He turned and headed down the hall, intent on finding Nikita.

       He found her in her office. She was sitting behind her desk, a map up on her holo projector. Michael knew she was planning a mission.

       "Michael," she said softly, just barely glancing up from him, "Do we still have time to see the priest this evening?"

       "Yes," He replied softly, and looked pointedly at the place he knew her surveillance interrupter was set up.

       Nikita punched in the code, "What's going on?"

       "Alexandra's evaluation for Level 4 has been delayed 6 months," Michael told Nikita.

       Nikita sat back, "That's better than a flat out denial. Was she expecting it?"

       "I don't think so," Michael told her, "I don't think she's ready yet. They'll be keeping close tabs on her though."

       Nikita nodded, "You're concerned about her relationship with Carlson."

       "And her emotional strength. The lost pregnancy, her feelings for Carlson, she forgave Kristie and Darren a little to easily."

       Nikita watched him as he walked around her desk, and he came to a stop just behind her. His hands started to massage her neck and back. Nikita let her head loll forward.

        Her voice was a little muffled when she said, "What do you mean a little too easily."

       "She never forgets Nikita. She tends to hold onto things," Michael told her, "She could go back to blaming herself."

       "Gee, that sounds familiar," Nikita commented sarcastically.

       Michael's lip twitched. He knew Nikita was right though.

       "I'm just worried," Michael told her, "Madeline wants me to profile her."

       Nikita looked up, "What?"

       "I've started my profile training," Michael told her.

       Nikita turned around in her chair, "Aren't you a little too close to this though?"

       "That's part of the training," Michael said softly.

       Nikita sighed, "We got a call from the Palisades too. They wanted to talk to you about the wine list and the bar."

       "Bar?" Michael asked, "Did we ask for a bar?"

       "Someone is donating it," Nikita told him, "And the name sounds like one of your contacts, but I wasn't sure."

       "George is donating a case of champagne," Michael told her, "It's a good year."

       Nikita smiled. She wouldn't know herself. To her, champagne was champagne.

       "We need to make the reservations for our wedding trip," Michael told her, "I know you've got two live missions tomorrow morning."

       Nikita nodded, "Maybe tomorrow afternoon?"

       "I can make them," Michael told her, "We decided on the Bahamas, right?"

       Nikita nodded, "Yep. Sun, sand, and no Section One."

       Michael pressed a kiss to her neck, "I love you."

       She turned, and brushed her lips against his, "I love you too."

       He stepped out from behind her chair, and walked to the door, stopping to look back at her for a brief moment, his green eye's blazing with promise of things to come.

       Nikita felt an electrical current to her toes. Dear god how she loved that man!

***

       Michael somehow knew how she was going to dress for this interview. Short skirt, crop top and the infamous boots. Silver chains around her neck, silver hoops in her ear. She'd put on some makeup. Everything bespoke defiance. Michael supposed he should have been glad her behavior in front of Oversight was suitable.

        Pepe trotted in with her. He ran past Alexandra, and jumped up onto Madeline's lap. Alexandra looked surprised for a moment, until she saw Madeline open a drawer, and pull out a bag of dog treats.

       "I should have named him Pig," Alexandra sighed.

       Pepe settled comfortably on Madeline's lap, tail waggling. Operations didn't seem at all surprised at this somehow. Alexandra wondered just what had gone on during the few days she'd been gone.

       Alexandra sat down in the chair across from Madeline's desk, carefully smoothing her skirt as she sat.

       Michael sat in one overstuffed chair off to the right as did Operations. Alexandra watched them all, taking in their expressions. Operations looked tired. Madeline even looked tired. Michael just . . . looked like Michael.

       "You all look like you've been to a funeral," Alexandra began, "What's going on?"

       "It was a long day with Oversight ," Madeline told her, "Do you know why Jeremy has such a problem with you?"

       Alexandra sighed, "No. I'm inclined to see it's just strong capable women in general - but he had a few targets if that had been the case - and I haven't heard that this has happened before."

       "No incidents in the past, no past arguments he may still be upset about?" Madeline asked her.

       "None," Alexandra told her, "I've never even spoken with him much. I was surprised to hear the accusation actually."

       "Did he acknowledge that the grounds crew  were  even there?" Operations asked her.

       Alexandra thought for a moment, "Only that he told us to proceed on to the main target, past them. I was uncomfortable because they were there, witnesses. They were securing the playground equipment - they had the tools for it, the supplies. I thought the exposure was too high myself, but . . ."

       "But what?" Madeline asked, still stroking Pepe's back.

        Alexandra sighed, and resisted the urge to look at Michael for advice.

       "I followed orders, even though I thought the orders and the mission plan weren't good," Alexandra started, "I'm sure there was a reason for doing it that way, but I can't figure out what is it."

       Madeline looked over at Operations, and Michael, gauging their reactions. Then she turned her gaze on Alexandra.

       "How would you have done it?" Madeline asked her.

       Alexandra drew in a deep breath. She could be digging herself a deep hole here, and she knew it.

       "I'd have put us in civilian cloths. I'd have sent in a tear gas grenade and flushed them out. I'd have verified that it was the grounds crew in the park. I'd have organized the teams differently. We had too many new people on the second team. Kristie had the most experience - and she's been here less than a year. Team one seemed to be made up of people that were all friends - which has its good and bad points. I'd have evened out the mix a little."

       "You did know you were up for your Level 4 review," Madeline began.

       "Yes," Alexandra told her.

       Madeline leaned forward in her chair, "What would you have done if you'd discovered you were pregnant - and hadn't lost the pregnancy?"

       Alexandra answered calmly, "Aborted it."

       "Why?" Madeline asked you, "You could have tried to negotiate something - given the child up for adoption . . ."

       "But I'd be out for almost a year - and what can I negotiate with or for? I can't be a parent - not here, and this is where I will be for the rest of my life. It simply isn't practical. I had taken measures - I will continue to take measures to make sure that doesn't happen."

       "Michael could have provided some leverage for you," Madeline told her.

       Alexandra shook her head, "It's simply not an option. I don't want to have a child, I don't want to ever be pregnant - I was on birth control - if I had found out before I lost the pregnancy  - if I hadn't lost the pregnancy - I'd have ended it. Having a child is simply not something I'd do."

       Madeline exchanged looks with Operations. Alexandra wondered what was going on between them.

       "I'm inclined to promote you," Madeline told her, "But you've been out in the field for three months. You've been on two missions since your return, one was easy, one was a mess. Your mission with Carlson was understandably difficult. We're going to postpone your full review for 6 months. For that, we'll expect a lot."

       Alexandra acknowledged this with a nod. She hadn't expected to be promoted.

       "Carlson tried to contact you, while you were gone," Madeline added, "He didn't have any Intel for us. It was just to see you."

       Alexandra took a deep breath, "We expected that."

       "Don't discourage the bond. Allow him a certain amount of your personal life, but don't let it get out of hand. He's not pursuing any other women right now. As long as his interest is piqued, he'll be cooperative," Madeline told her.

       Alexandra nodded, "I'll need a new tracker."

       "Walter will see to it," Madeline replied, "You can go."

       Alexandra stood up, and patted her leg. Pepe jumped down from Madeline's lap, and trotted out with Alexandra.

       "Michael," Madeline turned her chocolate brown eye's on him, "Your impression?"

       Michael was silent for a moment, then, "She wasn't expecting to pass her level four evaluation, and she's a little surprised that she's being given six months more. Outside of this office - she's a little unsure about how to handle Carlson. Her feelings are ambivalent. She doesn't trust him, but she likes that he's actively courting her. She'll grow bored with him though. He's not a challenge. He'll do whatever she wants."

       "What does the way she dresses tell you?" Madeline asked him.

       "She feels like prostitute for Section," Michael answered, "I've known that for a while."

       "She is," Operations cut in.

       Michael looked at him, "Her skills run beyond that of a Valentine op."

       "Every cold op here does what they have to Michael," Operations said, his voice condescending, "You know this."

       Michael turned his gaze back to Madeline, "The way she dresses is a defense mechanism. She feels some measure of control. It's been very effective for her."

       "I agree," Madeline told him, "How is she reacting to Darren?"

       Michael answered immediately. Hesitating would send them searching, though they probably would anyway.

       "She's affection starved, but she keeps it separate from Section," Michael replied, "I think they could work well together under most circumstances. I don't know if she'd have trouble seeing him as an authority figure."

       "I think aggressive strong men are very appealing to her right now. How is she reacting to you, as a man?" Madeline asked him.

       Michael thought back to her earlier comment - she'd called him dad.

       "Father figure perhaps?" Madeline prodded him, "She's probably letting you know what she's doing, looking to you for guidance perhaps?"

       "Yes," Michael replied, "That's nothing new though."

       "Do you have any suggestions on how we should handle her - and Carlson?"

       Michael thought for a moment, "I wouldn't worry about her loyalty. She has friends here, a life she's come to accept. I think we can use Darren to strengthen that bond."

       Madeline sat back, "Go on?"

       "Her attraction to Carlson is based solely on her need for affection," Michael began, "At the moment, Carlson is providing that. She's gotten past the issue of Kristie and Darren's transgression. If Darren were to actively pursue her, I think her ties to Section would be much stronger."

       Operations sighed, "We shouldn't be encouraging this kind of behavior! Section is not a dating service! If she'd been trained properly she wouldn't let her personal life affect her profession life."

       Madeline looked at him, "That works very rarely. For Alexandra, for Nikita, their social ties in Section are their source of strength. They build new ones as the old ones break. It's the reason they can survive things many other operatives don't. Even with Michael - the fact that he had a reason to live and fight - gave him the drive to keep going in some otherwise hopeless situations."

       "If we start making exceptions -"

       "We handle each situation on a case by case basis. We can't do things the way we did 20 years ago. The enemy has changed, so in turn we have to also. We have to accomplish more with less. To do that, they have to have a reason to go on. Allowing relationships that do not interfere with work is the most effective," Madeline told him, and she looked at her watch, "You're video conference is in 5 minutes."

       Operations stood up, "I'll be in my office. Keep me posted."

       Operations walked out. Madeline looked at Michael, "Another lesson you must learn well Michael. Some egos survive by keeping everyone under their thumb. As long as you allow them to think they're doing that, even if they aren't, things run smoother."

       She uncrossed her legs, and relaxed back in her chair, "I'm going to encourage Darren to pursue her. I don't worry about her loyalty to Section, but shoring it up is always a good idea in these situations."

***

       Tony had bought Kim another plant. He knew she was living in a virtual jungle now, her apartment was so full of plants - but he also knew that she somehow would like this one. She still had some space for plants - that was what she'd said the other day.

       He knocked on the door, and heard her particular rhythmic step coming towards the door. It swung open, and he found her dressed in jeans, a T-shirt and a chef's apron. The smell of roasting meat wafted out.

       "Come in!" She said, "Oh! A plant!"

        Kim stepped back, and let him walk in, "Put him right over here."

       She walked over to a plant stand in the corner, that had one open spot left. Tony set it down, and stood back, "I saw this plant and thought of you. It looks like a climber - I know you like them."

       Kim grinned. She knew what he meant by climber - a plant that would grow long tendrils out ward, and spread as far out as it could. She felt the dirt, to see how dry it was. She decided it could stand to have a little more water.

       "Glass of wine? Beer?" she asked him.

       "I'm Italian," Tony teased her, "Vino."

       Kim grinned, and when she was done washing her hands, she handed Tony a cup of water for the plant. While he was watering the plant, she poured two glasses of red wine.

       "So how were the vibes at work?" Kim asked him as he sipped his wine, "Lot's of stuff going on today."

       "You're telling me!" Tony exclaimed, "It was tense. Michael and Nikita were pushing to get out of there. I still can't believe they're getting away with this."

       Kim shook her head, "You don't know Michael well. He must have done something phenomenal for George. I'm thinking he and Nikita are the heirs to the Section One throne - down the road at least."

       ***

       "Twenty nine days," Michael said softly, and despite any surveillance, pressed a kiss to her forehead, "Let's go."

       They'd been in Nikita's office. He'd gone there right after his meeting with Madeline.

       Nikita directed Michael as he drove. She'd been to see father Patrick twice in the past, they'd had to reschedule this meeting with him more than once. He never asked questions, never complained. He took things as they came to him, and adjusted easily.

       Michael parked the Broncho across the street, his eye's scanning, taking in the surrounding geography. The church was in the city, across from one of the larger parks. The front doors were made of a heavy dark wood, the outside made of stone, huge stained glass windows on the second floor, some smaller stained glass windows on the first floor.

       They stepped through the door, and Michael immediately could appreciate Alexandra's attraction to this place. The main floor of the auditorium had a large center aisle, and rows upon rows of benches from the alter to the back of the church. Michael was sure it could accommodate several hundred if it was packed. There was a small alter in one of the alcoves with small votive candles in red glass holders. Cement and plaster formed statues sat in some of the other alcoves. On the far side of the church sat the confessionals, and more small statues. Both sides of the church had doors that led into classrooms and conference rooms. At the entrance of the church, off to the left and the right, there were wide staircases that lead up to the second floor - which was really only a balcony walk way. Michael could see doors leading on both sides of the walkways up there as well, and thick heavy curtains that could be drawn to block out the view of the walkway.

        The church was in good repair, very good repair considering that it was on the edge of a lower middle class area. It must have had wealthy benefactors. Michael knew that in this day and age, it wasn't because there were so many faithful going to services on a regular basis.

       The most remarkable thing though, was how the sunlight streamed through the stained glass panels, to bathe the alter in a wash of multicolored light. The area surrounding the alter practically glowed. He could just see Alexandra lurking in the dark shadowed areas, staying out of the light, but drawn to it at the same time. It was peaceful here. Not dark and foreboding at all.

        Michael could also easily see in his mind, the church packed, with Nikita and himself standing at the alter. He swallowed hard. Was this real? Could it possibly be?

       Michael stared at the alter for several moments. Nikita watched him, wondering what was going through his mind. She'd been stunned herself, seeing this place for the first time. She hoped he wasn't regretting his decision.

        "It's beautiful isn't it?" Nikita said softly.

       "Yes," Michael replied just as quietly, and he looked at her, "It's perfect for us."

       Nikita felt a wash of love and affection flow over her, warmth spread throughout her. Michael slid his fingers into hers, and drew them to his lips, and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand.

       "Where do we meet the priest?"

       Nikita smiled, and pulled him to the stairs off to the left. Hand in hand, they walked up the stairs, and down the walkway. Michael found himself watching the shadows, the corners. It was just instinct now - necessary for survival. He had no illusions that someplace as beautiful as this was free of the dangers of the outside world. But somehow, that even here he was on guard - somehow seemed unfair. But life wasn't fair.

       He looked over at Nikita, and felt a little better when he realized she was doing the same thing - always watching, always looking.

       Trust in yourself to train a good operative . . .

       She'd said that to him once, when he'd told her she'd done the right thing, even though at the time it could have taken it as a betrayal. It would have been much worse, in the end, if he'd done anything else. Nikita had been his salvation then.

       He had trained a good operative - and somehow, through it all, she managed to retain her heart and soul.

        They reached the end of the walkway, and Nikita knocked on the door marked 'office'.

       "Come in!" a voice called.

       There was something about the voice. Michael tensed a little bit, and Nikita noticed.

       "What?" she asked softly.

       Michael pushed her back from the door, and stepped to the side himself. Nikita's eyes were wide open, surprised, worried - that Michael was tense? What was it? What had he just seen or heard that she hadn't?

       He pushed the door handle open, his hand in his jacket. Nikita felt heartsick, watching this play out.

        He looked into the office, and stepped in, his stride measured, ready . . .

       "Michael!" Father Patrick's voice exclaimed, "I . . . it's been a long time."

       "Father," Michael greeted him, his eye's taking in everything in the office, and he felt Nikita step up to his side. Michael dropped his hand down, his other hand searching out Nikita's. There was no threat here, no danger. Just old memories.

       "You're a long way from Ireland," Michael said, his voice relaxed. Nikita looked over at him, surprised. He knew the priest - and from Ireland?

       "Yes, I am," Father Patrick agreed, chuckling, "Please - have a seat."

       Father Patrick had gestured to the small sofa against the wall, while he walked over to a small table with a coffee pot and several coffee cups sitting on it. He poured Michael two cups, one with a little creme and sugar, the other he left plain. He knew Michael didn't take anything in his coffee.

       "Where do you know each other from?" Nikita asked abruptly.

       Father Patrick looked at Michael expectantly. He was asking for permission to reveal the past.

       "Nikita works with me," Michael told him.

       "Michael and his team hid in a cellar no one knew about in my church," Father Patrick told her, "And there was another man with them. A biologist if I remember correctly. He'd found someway to stop or make a chemical weapon inert."

       Nikita glanced at Michael, still in shock. Michael was so calm, so relaxed. Normally, he'd be tense - faced with a loose end.

       "George never said a word to me you know," Father Patrick told him, "I had no idea that it was you Nikita was bringing to meet me. Does he know?"

       "Yes," Michael replied, "He does. He'll be at the wedding."

       Nikita took a deep breath, "You know George too?"

       "George - the agency - Section One . . . I do occasionally provide asylum still," Father Patrick told them, "The church sent me here, a year after you and I met in Ireland. Is that crew of psychopaths George calls Oversight still in place?"

       "Many of them will be in attendance too," Michael told him.

       "Politics!" Father Patrick sighed, "Ah well, so be it. It's good to see you Michael."

       Father Patrick had walked back behind his desk, and sat down in the worn chair, and leaned back, "I guess this means Alexandra is not just a photographer."

       "She's Section One," Michael told him, "One of mine."

       Nikita rubbed her eyes with her free hand, "Are you part of Section, Father? The agency?"

       Father Patrick shook his head, "No. I really am just a priest. I just happened to be stumbled across one day. I think George met me when he was feeling generous."

       Nikita listened to them tell her about the time Michael, his team and a chemist hid in a secret cellar in a church in Ireland for three days. Section hadn't been able to get the Chemist off the island because of a storm. The church had taken some damage, and George, grateful that the priest had hidden them, had seen to it that the repairs would be done, and quickly. Later on, George approached Father Patrick again, for assistance. Hence, the priests relationship with the agency and Section One began.

       "I haven't seen Alexandra in months," Father Patrick mentioned. "I was told by one of the deacon's that she'd been seen lighting candles a few days ago, but I was out."

       "She's been on an assignment for several months," Michael told him, "Section will want to have security measures in place. It would be easier if you knew about it."

       "Of course," Father Patrick told him, "I'd expect no less, now that I know who will be in my church."

       They discussed the type of ceremony. It wouldn't be a full mass, because neither one of them were catholic. The church had an organist, and there was a room Nikita and the bridesmaids could make use of, as well as a room the groom and ushers could use. They discussed where the flowers would be, how many people they were expecting . . .

***

       "You know," Tony told her, as he crawled over Kim on her bed, gazing down at her from his position above her on his hands and knees, "This isn't the only reason why I come over to see you."

       Kim laughed, "Yeah, I feed you too!"

       Tommy laughed with her, and slowly started to spread her hair out in a halo around her face, "Seriously Kim."

       "I know," she said huskily, and reached up, and started to pull his shirt from his slacks, and she ran her hand up his chest, "But I do enjoy this part of us - very much . . ."

       Tony watched her slowly ease his shirt up, and he pulled it off, reaching for hers. He pulled her up so she was sitting, and tossed her shirt off the side of the bed, and unclipped her bra. As he slid the straps off of her shoulders, he followed their path down with kisses.

       Kim felt his lips like a sizzling brand to her flesh, only this brand didn't hurt. It just made her want more. His lips were firm but tender, moist. She was being tasted, enjoyed, and she knew it. It made her blood boil in her veins to be wanted like this again. She closed her eye's, giving herself up to the sensations that flooded her senses, and let her hands wander on his chest, stroking, touching, feeling, memorizing.

       Tony was in awe of Kim. Every time they were together like this, it was just . . .amazing. She was incredibly passionate. His slightest touch meant so much; did so much for her. It was the same for him. Her fingers moving on his flesh felt so good. Tender yet demanding, telling him she wanted him, desired him, enjoyed him. Not just sex, but him. It felt . . . right.

       At section, she took her work seriously - she had to. She was good at it. But the woman he saw there, the woman below him now, were too different people. Gone from the prying eyes, eye's that saw her cane more so than they saw her, Tony knew he was seeing that part of Kim that had refused to die when she'd been injured years ago. He was falling deeply in love with that part of her too. It should frighten him, but it didn't. It just felt . . . right.

       He moved his mouth from her arm to her stomach, and back up between her breasts, teasing her. He knew she had very sensitive nipples. So his mouth traced small circles just around them, never coming right in contact with them. He wanted to tease into a frenzy first before he satisfied that desire.

        He felt her hands in his hair, pressing him to her, trying to guide him, push him. Tony resisted, and pulled her fingers to his mouth, sucking on them briefly, just for a moment, then pushing them down to her sides.

       She couldn't be a passive participant though, and he knew it. He felt her hands on his back, his neck, on his buttocks through his slacks, caressing, kneading, feeling. Her hand strayed down between his legs, finding him already thick and hard. She caressed the length of him through his cloths, tormenting him on purpose.

       Tony felt her squeeze him through his slacks, and he sucked on the nipple into his mouth suddenly, taking her by surprise. But her grip only tightened, a soft moan escaping her lips. She yanked open his slacks, and freed him, her fingers encircling him, her thumb stroking over the sensitive tip.

       Tony moaned into her breast, and decided it was time to switch to the other one, and he started to unbutton her jeans, and peel them back,

       Kim felt that familiar tight coil inside her burn as it built up, threatening to drive her into insanity, and she knew it would - a temporary sweet insanity. She lifted her hips a little, as best she could, while Tony dragged her jeans down over her hips. He didn't want to stop suckling her, and she knew it. She loved how he suckled her.

       She kicked her jeans off, and felt his hand stroke her sensitive labia, his fingers sifting through the curls there, parting her just slightly, not quite delving inside yet.

       Tony felt his own passion burn, threatening to make him too wild, too rough. She was wet for him already, but he'd discovered early where her most sensitive parts where. Her hands on his member weren't helping him maintain any control, but it felt so damn good! Besides, he knew she liked toying with him, touching him.

       He parted her a little more, sliding his fingers a little farther into the folds of flesh, spreading the natural lubricant, up to her sensitive bud. He pinched her there, making her body buck under him, a moan escaping her mouth.

       Tony lifted his mouth from her breast, and stared down into her passion glazed eye's, "You like that?"

       "You know I do!" She gasped, and moaned again, feeling his fingers stroke over her, "I want you inside me! Now!"

       Tony's mouth came down on hers, kissing her hungrily. He'd give her whatever she wanted. If it was hours of foreplay, so be it. If she wanted it quick and fast, so be it. Pleasing her made it so good for him, to know she was insane, writhing, needing, wanting . . . him!

       He grabbed at her bedside drawer, knowing that was where the condoms were kept, He yanked a packet open, and rolled the latex down. He lowered his body to hers, nudging her open with the head of his shaft, and carefully eased it in. He began pressing forward slowly, making her feel every last inch of him as he penetrated her.

       Kim moaned loudly under him, spreading her legs farther apart, tilting her hips up as best she could. He felt so good, so full inside her. It was just amazing how good he felt to her . . .

       He drew back slowly, then back into her, each stroke measured, each stroke careful - to make her feel everything she possible could.

       Tony was just beginning to feel the tightening inside, and he knew he'd have to pause soon, or change positions, do something to prevent himself from coming. He felt her muscles clamp down around him, the contractions of her orgasm milking him, threatening to make him come much earlier than he intended too.

       Kim cried out in pleasure, then swore softly, clinging to him.

       "OOOOHHHHHH . . .damnit!"

       Tony had to chuckle, "What's wrong!"

       She gasped for air, "I . . . this is so cliché . . . I almost expect to hear you say 'Hey, I'm not done yet!"

       "I'm not," Tony told her, rolling them so she was on top, "I want to watch you ride me."

       Kim sat back, her body still trembling. She rocked back on him, effectively sliding him in and out. She had her eyes closed, enjoying the sensations assaulting her. She felt his hands on her stomach, moving up. They cupped her breasts,  stroking her nipples as she rocked on him, making her crazy insane. She felt her body start to spin out of control again, and she desperately fought against it, determined to hold out a little longer.

       But then she felt his small thrusts under her change, his thick member throb a little differently in side her, and it was too much for her to hold back. His own release always triggered hers, they were so well matched.

       Kim collapsed down on his chest, her mouth weakly seeking out his, their kisses gentle, tender. It was then that it occurred to her, she'd never once felt self conscious about her scars tonight. She couldn't remember a day since her accident when that had ever happened.

***

       She saw him as she walked into the bar off of the restaurant. It was a trendy place - but a hair bit below what Carlson had generally taken her too. She saw his eye's sweep over her, taking in her attire. She felt a little annoyed at that. He'd once made a comment to her about wearing a bra. He didn't want her to look trashy. Did she look trashy to him now? This was her. These were the clothes she liked, this was how she was comfortable dressing. If he didn't like it, it was his problem.

       "I was worried about you," He said gently, standing up and pulling out a stool for her, "It's been over a week."

       "I was out on a job," she told him, "I warned you it would be like this."

       He sighed, "So you did. Did something go wrong? That Michael person wasn't very helpful. He was rather rude in fact."

       Alexandra chuckled, "Michael is all economy and directness. There are always anomalies on these jobs. We deal with them as they come."

       Carlson pressed a kiss to her lips, gently, affectionate, but that was it, "I'm glad you're OK."

       She crossed one leg over the other, and adjusted her skirt little, only a sliver of thigh showing.  Carlson watched her. Crop top, short skirt, those damned boots. Her navel piercing was blatantly visible. She had silver chains hung around her neck, silver hoops in her ears, her dark red curls hanging loose and wild. She looked good - but she also looked just . . .wild.

       "I still have your clothes you know, I could bring them to you," He told her.

       Alexandra sighed deeply. He could have said anything else to her . . .

       "I like the way I dress. I dress this way by choice. I don't hurt for money," she told him, "I know you like elegant and sophisticated - but that's not the real me. I prefer a beer over wine - chicken over sushi. If that's a problem for you, then we can keep this strictly business."

       "Alex," he said gently, "It just sends the wrong message!"

       She sighed deeply, "And that message would be?"

       "Cheap," He told her, "Trampy."

       She stood up, "That's me. That's my life. I thought you would have figured that out, considering how me met!"

       "I never treated you like that!" Carlson snapped at her.

       "Like what?" Alexandra snapped at him, "I want to hear you say it."

       "You want to look like a whore - fine with me - but pick someplace more in line with your lifestyle then!" Carlson snapped at her.

       "I'm out of here. You got anything for me or not?"

       "Here," Carlson snapped, and tossed a CD in a jewel case on the table, "Reserve a room in a sleazy motel next time."

       Alexandra grabbed it up, and walked out.

       She hit the street, and started down the block. She'd taken the bus system - it was easier to see if you were being followed that way. She'd pick up her bus back a few blocks away. She turned a corner, and a black Broncho pulled up. Alexandra would have been worried if she hadn't recognized the car. Pepe's face appeared in the window, his tiny paws on the glass.

       Alexandra sighed, and pulled the door open carefully, so Pepe wouldn't fall out.

       "Hope that was entertaining enough for you," Alexandra snapped as she got into the Broncho, "Aren't you afraid Nikita's going to hear that you're picking up girls off the streets."

       "Alex," Michael chastised gently.

       She climbed in, in a very unlady like fashion, plopped down on the seat, and picked up Pepe. The little Chihuahua curled up into a ball, and started to lick her hand.

       Michael tried to think of something comforting to say to her, but nothing came to mind. Alexandra thought of herself the same way Carlson had just implied. Anything he said would come out as patronizing.

       She was quiet while he drove. It was a few minutes later when she finally spoke up, "Where are we going?"

        "My apartment," Michael told her, "Nikita is waiting for us."

       Alexandra nodded, but remained quiet. She'd been in Michael's apartment once. She hadn't been in the best of shape then. She wasn't really now.

       He pulled up in front of the building, and She climbed out, keeping Pepe in her arms. She followed him inside, up the stairs, down the hall, to the last door on the end. He unlocked the door, and when it opened up, soft quiet music wafted out. Nikita was just pouring kibble into a bowel.

       "Alex - I hope he'll eat this stuff. I wasn't sure when I bought it."

       Alexandra managed a smile, "He eats everything."

       She held up the disk, "Can I use your PC to upload this to Section?"

       Michael nodded, "It's on the desk."

       Alexandra walked over, and started the process of encoding, uploading . . .

       She finished, and walked back towards the Kitchen, "Can I help?"

       Michael shook his head, "No. Sit down and relax."

       He reached into the fridge and pulled out a beer. Alexandra had to smile. He twisted the lid off, and handed it to her. Nikita was sipping off one as well.

       "What are you making?" Alexandra asked.

       Nikita was sitting on the counter, and she patted the spot next to her.

       "This is the best view to watch Michael make dinner," Nikita told her, "He was a chef in a past life I think."

       Alexandra carefully sat back on the counter with Nikita. Michael had chicken cut into strips, slowly frying in a pan some kind of pinkish liquid, and was slicing up vegetables to add to the mixture. A pot of rice was cooking on the back of the burner.

       "I don't cook," Nikita told her, "When I do, it's out of a can - and something truly hard to mess up."

       The sound of a cell phone ringing drew their attention. Michael leaned over the counter, and picked up one, "It's yours Nikita - and it's Darren calling."

       Nikita took the phone, and looked at Alex, "Should we invite him?"

       Alexandra shrugged, "I don't care."

       Nikita was sure she did, but she wasn't going to point that out. She answered the phone, "Hello . . . . OK . . . . give the list to comm, they'll notify them. How did the debrief go? . . . yeah . . . I told you, be an asshole, it works . . . I think I can think of one person who might say you are every now and then . . . OK, OK, I know cheap shot, but you left yourself wide open . . . listen, Michael is making dinner for me and Alex. Get in your car and drive over here . . .  he can't entertain us both . . . . that's all you men are good for . . . . any way you want to take it . . . . shut up and get in your car! . . . . let me check - Michael do we need anything?"

       Michael opened the fridge, "More beer."

       "Beer," Nikita told him, "Bud please . . . OK . . . see ya soon, bye."

       Nikita hung up the phone, and handed it to Michael.

       Michael set it down, and turned back to Nikita, took her beer, and took drink off of it, "You're an incorrigible flirt."

       "I learned it from you," she teased him back.

       "So what is it that men are only good for?" Michael asked her.

       "Entertaining women," Nikita taunted him, and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

       Michael gave her a look that was meant to taunt, to entice. He eased up the hem of her T-shirt, and pressed his mouth to her stomach, suckling for just a moment. Then he pulled her legs apart from behind him, and stepped back, "Behave for a few moments or Alex will starve."

       Alexandra took a big gulp of her beer. She wasn't used to seeing them like this - but it was good to see.

       Michael picked up a sliver of a carrot and tossed it to Pepe. Pepe leapt up and snapped it out of the air, trotted over to stand next to Michael, and watched him expectantly.

       "How are the wedding plans going?" Alexandra asked them.

       Nikita chuckled, "They're going. Michael is still negotiating the wine list. Some of his choices are hard to find apparently.

       Michael turned to look at her, "Tell her about the flowers."

       "I want a pastel green in the flower mix. They can't think of any - so I told them to use white carnations - and spray paint them. I've seen it done at flower shops!" Nikita told her.

       "Yeah - so what's the problem?"

       "The Palisades has probably never spray painted a flower, let alone used a carnation," Michael told her.

       The door bell rang. Michael set down his knife, slipped by Nikita's and Alexandra's legs, and answered the door.

       "Hey man," Darren said, "Who's cooking? You or Nikita?"

       "I am," Michael told him.

       "Phew - I was thinking we'd have to order pizza."

       "Fuck you," Nikita swore at him, teasingly.

       Nikita rolled her eye's, "I was just telling Alex about the wedding plans - Michael chooses fruit for the fruit tray that they have to fly in - the chef is freaking out right now, because he's having trouble finding some of it," Nikita told her, "But the dresses are coming along well - thank god!"

       "That's the most dress I've worn in a long time. I'm not sure I'll know how to act without my stomach bare and half my ass hanging out."

       "Jesus - are the dresses long?" Darren asked, "I had this vision of  . . . well . . . I won't say - but they were short - real short."

       Alexandra groaned, and shifted the material of her flip skirt, so when she lifted her booted legs to capture Darren at his hips, she wouldn't be flashing the world a view of her panties, "You like the skirts short huh?"

       Darren slid his hands up the legs of her boots, "Oh yeah."

       His hands came to rest on the flesh between the hem of her skirt and the boot edge, his fingers splaying on her thigh, "I was thinking I should call you tonight, see what you were up to."

       "Causing hate and discontent, the usual," Alexandra quipped, watching him, "I hear your leading a team now."

       "Yeah," Darren groaned, "And sometimes wishing I wasn't."

       Michael slid up against Nikita, between her knees, his arm going around her waist, his hand resting on her hip, just under her shirt, his fingers stroking her flesh, "I'd give you Alex, but she doesn't listen to me, why would she listen to you?"

       Alexandra chuckled, and tightened her legs around Darren, pulling him in closer, "Darren has . . . hidden charms."

       Nikita laughed, "You just keep thinking Michael doesn't have those hidden charms Alex."

       Michael brushed his lips across hers, lingering just a moment, then went back to the dinner he was preparing.

       The vegetables were sautéing in a wine sauce, the whole mixture spooned over rice. Michael drafted Darren into helping him set the table, and within minutes, they found themselves sitting down to dinner.

       After dinner, when the dishes were done and airdrying, Michael dimmed the lights, lit some candles, and put a video in the VCR. Nikita sat down on Michael's lap, snuggling into his chest, a beer in hand for them to share.

       Alexandra waited until Darren sat down, then leaned over, and rested her head in his lap, "May I?"

       "Anytime," he said gently, brushing her hair back from her face. He slid his hand over her hip, past the edge of her skirt, until his fingers came in contact with warm flesh.

       The movie had several dark scenes in it; it was a movie Michael had seen many times. He pressed his lips to Nikita's neck, his hand gently grasped her jaw, tilting her head back, exposing more of her neck. Nikita was only too willing to comply for a few moments. Then she turned her head her mouth seeking his.

       Alexandra glanced over, seeing the couple intertwined in the chair totally lost in each other, oblivious of them and the movie. She had to smile. They deserved this. It was kinda neat to see this side of Michael and Nikita.

       Alexandra quietly sat up, and beckoned Darren to follow her. She stepped out onto the porch and moved off to the far side, where it was the darkest. She leaned forward on the wide stone railing, looking out over the city, up at the stars,  "Michael just picked me up - told me I was coming to dinner. Nikita was expecting me, so she knew I was coming."

       He nodded, "I could feel the sexual energy when I walked in."

       He moved directly behind her, bracing himself on both arms on either side of her.

        "I love to watch the city at night, the stars," Alexandra said softly, "I was just remembering the ranch, in Oregon - when we camped out up on the plateau."

       "That was a good night," Darren agreed, and he ran his hands up her arms, and across her shoulders.

       Alexandra let her head drop forward, as Darren started to massage her shoulders and neck. It felt so good to be touched - touched by him. Warm, tender, affectionate . . . not just lust, though she was feeling an awful lot of lust at the moment.

       "Darren," She said softly, turning around to face him.

       She looked up, and her breath caught in her throat. He'd always been a beautiful man. Thick dark shiny hair, naturally tan skin - those smoldery charcoal gray eyes, the full sensuous lips - it had all be the undoing of her resolve many times.

       "I have to talk to you about something - and you're not going to like it," Alexandra said softly.

       Michael lifted his lips from Nikita's, and looked over his shoulder. He'd known that they had guests, he certainly hadn't forgotten, but moments worth of teasing and tormenting Nikita had become overwhelming. Being watched wasn't an issue for him - not considering that he was sure Madeline had a whole library full of video feeds of Michael engaged in various sex acts with his targets, Simone, Elena and Nikita.

       But he and Nikita had invited them over - and were now effectively ignoring their guests.        "What?" Nikita asked gently.

       Michael pulled her up so she was sitting on his lap, "They're gone - but his jacket is still here - her purse . . ."

       Nikita stifled  a giggle, "They wouldn't go in your bedroom - so they're on the porch."

       She slid off Michael's lap, and quietly walked over to the door, and peered around the edge, then pulled back quickly. She laid down on the floor, and peered under the edge of the vertical blinds. Michael, feeling foolish himself for creeping around in his apartment - but at the same time Nikita's playfulness was intoxicating. He crept up next to her, to watch and listen.

~~~~

       "I have to talk to you about something - and you're not going to like it," Alexandra said softly.

       Darren nodded, his fingers playing with a lock of her hair, his other hand on her shoulder. He had to touch her. He needed to.

       "Querrida," Darren said softly, "Just because I don't like something, doesn't mean I won't still love you."

       Alexandra sighed deeply, "Darren - how much more are you going to take from me?"

       "How much more are you going to take from me?" He countered, "I can explain a hundred times about Kristie - and I understand why you have your doubts -"

       "I don't care about that anymore," she told him, "I'm not happy about it - It hurts, but I . . . it's over, it can't be changed."

       Darren pulled her back from the railing, and grasping her at her waist, set on the wooden table, "Alex - whatever it is - we'll get through it. We always do."

       She nodded, and looked away, "You know that Carlson's been greenlisted - and I'm working him right?"

       Darren felt his jaw tighten up. Carlson - the target who'd been able to salve her wounds - wounds Darren had inflicted. The target who'd taken care of her when she lost his baby - Darren's baby . . .

       "Yeah, I know. Section's asking you to use his emotions for you against him," Darren replied softly, his hands stroking up and down her arms.

       "I slept with him - the first time I met up with him," Alexandra told him bluntly.

       Darren held his breath for a moment, "OK."

       "I probably could have gotten away without having to do it too," Alexandra told him, "But I . . . wanted to feel . . . wanted . . ."

       Darren sighed deeply, and pulled her into his arms, tight, close against him. He wanted to lock her up, keep her just for himself. He wanted to find Carlson and rip the man to shreds, destroy him for daring to give Alexandra the pleasure he knew she'd felt, for making her so confused now.

       "It's OK," Darren said softly, "You do what you have to do . . . and I haven't been so accessible lately."

       "Yeah you were, I had you the day before," she told him.

       Darren felt the jab of pain in his heart. Was she trying to piss him off?

       "I . . . OK . . . are you looking for forgiveness Alex? Or just keeping me informed," he asked her softly, and started to rub her back.

       Alexandra felt tears starting to prickle at the back of her eyes. She was not going to cry. Not now, not over this. She wasn't weak. She could handle anything - right?

       "I just . . . He can't make me feel what you do! I want so much to have what we had before! I know it's never going to be the same for us, we're all changing so much . . . I had to meet with him tonight again - and I didn't sleep with him, I didn't even want him . . . but I can't come to you without you knowing what I am . . ."

       What I am . . . Darren felt warning bells go off in his head. He'd always known that Alexandra carried a tremendous amount of guilt. Her attitude was her defense mechanism.

       "Hey," Darren said, gently pushing her back on the table for a moment, "What's this 'what I am' stuff about?"

       A single tear slipped down her cheek. Darren knew she hated to cry  - even in front of him. He felt his heart wrench in his chest.

       "A whore - a very dangerous whore," she whispered, "I don't get paid money, I get to live - its the same thing - no matter how you cut it."

       Darren sighed, "Alex - did someone call you something? Tell you that's what you were?"

       She looked away, "It's true."

       "Who did this?" Darren demanded.

       "Darren - it doesn't' matter!"

       "It matter's to me," Darren snapped, "You are a cold op - a very good cold op. I'd trust you with my life! That's an awful lot to trust a person with. Michael trusts you - and we both know very few people are on that list. Nikita trusts you . . . if you have to sleep with a few targets - it doesn't make you a whore. You're not doing this for personal gain - your doing this because you have to - because we save lives  - innocent lives. You're not supporting a drug habit. You're not standing on a street corner, fucking any guy that comes along for 50 bucks. It's so different  you can't even compare the two. You don't have a choice. I know that. I'll never be angry at you for sleeping with a target. I'll never be angry if you enjoyed part of it. You're human. It's sex - and it's supposed to feel good - consider yourself lucky if a target has some modicum of decency to make you enjoy it too."

       She'd turned her face away from him, and Darren gently grasped her jaw, and drew her face back to him, "Was it Carlson?"

       Something flashed in her eye's, and Darren knew. She realized it immediately.

       "He . . . doesn't like the way I dress," Alexandra said softly, "Tonight he suggested I pick a cheep hotel to meet him at if that was how I was going to act like."

       Darren sighed, "Querrida . . . your cloths - the way you dress - it dares men to look, to want - but it doesn't make you a whore. That's his issue, his problem. I like the short skirts, I love these boots - I have this fantasy where I sit you back on a table - like this one, and I step between your legs . . ."

       He gently pushed her legs apart, and pulled her body towards him, "And I slid my hand up your thigh like this . . ."

       His hand moved up her thigh, under her skirt, and up to her panties, and slid his finger under the seam.

       "And I find you open and wet," he said, his voice husky.

       He ran his finger's along the moist cleft of her labia, and delved inside, stroking her.

       "Just like you are now," he said softly, "Wet, and slick - because my hands are on you."

       Her breathing had quickened, and the hand that was on her lower back slipped inside the waistband of her skirt. His fingers stroked down, one sliding inside her, his thumb stroking over her clit.

       "I love touching you when you are wet," his voice was  husky, and he brushed his lips to hers, his lips wet and moist on hers, his tongue tracing her lip line.

       He withdrew his hand just a little, and she groaned, reaching for his hand to stop his withdrawal.

       "Please," she moaned, "Don't stop."

       "I'm not done with you Querrida," he murmured on her lips, his kiss turning more into his tongue stroking her, than his lips.

       He slid two fingers into her slowly, gently. She moaned against his mouth.

       "You're so nice and tight," he murmured, "I want to taste you."

       His lips left hers, and he pushed her skirt up, and pushed her panties farther aside, and ran his tongue along the insides of both labia, stroking the entire length of  her, tasting her juices. He brought his tongue down to her opening, and started to stroke in and out of her, his thumb still circling over her clit.

       Alexandra was almost lost when he pushed her skirt up, her blood caught fire when he tongue started to stroke her. She felt every last bit of energy twist up into a tight coil in her stomach, building, tightening . . .

       He brought his tongue back up to her clit, and started to suckle her, sliding two of his fingers inside her, slowly so she could feel every inch of him.

       She'd been moaning softly as he worked her, and suddenly, it was too much. Her whole body spasmed around him, her body arched, taut as a bow. Darren rose up, "I want you to taste yourself . . . "

       His mouth covered hers, the kiss hungry, demanding. Alexandra kissed him back, totally intoxicated with what he was doing to her.

       "I want you inside me," she murmured into his mouth.

       Darren yanked at the buttons and zipper on his jeans, and drew himself out, parted her legs a little wider. She moaned as he eased inside her slowly.

        "Querrida!" he murmured into her mouth, "you feel so good . . ."

       He thrusts were measured, each stroke deliberate, careful. Darren reached down between them, his fingers finding her sensitive nub, rubbing her there. He knew it would send her over the edge. Moments later, he felt her body convulse around him, and he hissed, fighting himself not to come. He held her as she road out her orgasm, stilling her movements when she tried to thrust up at him.

       "Querrida," he whispered, "Lets go back to my place and finish this."

       Alexandra looked up at him, her eye's glassy, "Why can't we finish here?"

       Darren stroked her cheek, "Because I don't want to come inside you and risk getting you pregnant again - and I just can't see my way clear of pulling out and coming on Michael's porch."

       Nikita's mouth was dry as she listened and watched them. She held her breath when Alexandra confessed about Carlson, felt intense relief when Darren didn't get upset. Already aroused from having Michael so close, from their own foreplay on the sofa, then as they lay there on Michael's floor watching Darren start to touch Alex, Nikita felt a voyeuristic rush that she couldn't quite turn away from. They were fascinating to watch, their love so intense and strong despite the worst of circumstances.

        Darren made the comment about not coming on Michael's porch, and she felt Michael tense up next to her.

       Nikita looked over at him, a devilish glint in her eye, "I dare you to walk out there and startle them."

       Michael sat up, and pulled Nikita with him, back over to the chair, "I don't want to clean up the mess."

       A moment later, Darren and Alexandra walked in off the porch.

       "We're gonna head home," Darren told them, "Thanks for dinner."

       "Anytime," Nikita said brightly, watching Alexandra gather up Pepe, "Have a good night."

       Alexandra looked over at her, and couldn't help but smile. Somehow everyone knew that everyone else knew what was going on.

       "You'll both have to come over to my place for dinner sometime next week," Alexandra told them, "See ya both tomorrow."

       They both quickly walked out the door.

       Michael scooped Nikita up, carrying her into his bedroom. He dropped her down on his bed, and moved over her, "You like to watch."

       Nikita laughed softy, huskily. To Michael it was the sexiest sound.

       "Everyone is fascinated by watching other people Michael," she said softly, "I know you like to watch me - when we're making love - when I'm just around you . . ."

       "I'll get a video camera," Michael said softly, "Video tape us."

~~~~~~

       Darren was tired, but he wasn't dragging. The blood was still pumping. They'd touched, caressed, made love all night, just enjoying being close, pleasing each other. It was probably one of the best nights they'd had.

       His alarm clock had gone off, and he reluctantly put an end to their play. A quick shower, and they were off to Section. Another day in hell.

       He walked into the briefing room, and heard one of the cold ops on his team make a crude comment.

       "Shit - would you look at that. That is made for bending over the nearest table and going to town!"

       Another cold op laughed with him. Darren glanced in the direction of their gazes. Alexandra was walking across the main floor just outside the conference room. She'd changed into a different skirt and top, Pepe was trotting along beside her.

       "Hey," Tony snapped at them, "She's a colleague boys. I know some of you were created, born and raised in the gutter - but lets try to pretend to be professional."

       The other man who'd laughed looked over at Tony, "I thought you were fucking Kim. I bet she's a wild little piece outside of Section!"

       Tony's temper flared, and he shook his head, and asked the room in general, "Why do I bother?"

       "Darren! The big bad team leader! Aren't you gonna defend your woman?" Marc taunted him.

       Darren walked casually over to where Marc was sitting, shaking his head. Then, suddenly, moving lightning quick, he yanked Marc out of his chair, bounced him off the wall, surfed him across the floor, and leapt onto his back. Darren pressed a knife he pulled him his boot to Marc's back, just below his ribs and pushed the tip just barely into the first layers of skin.

       "You need to know a few things Marc," Darren said firmly, but calmly, "First off, if I push this knife in - the teeth are going to tear the hell out of everything and I'll destroy your liver. The next thrust will go into your kidney, then I'll break your neck. You'll bleed to death, and I'll just call someone else in. When I give an order, you follow it. End of discussion. No one makes crude remarks about any of the women here. Kim is our life-line. Alex or any of the other women cold ops here can and will kill you. You make sure you're using the right ammunition. Any questions?"

       Marc didn't answer.

       Darren pushed the knife in a little more, a red stain started to appear on the fabric of his shirt.

       "All right! I got it!" Marc gasped.

       Darren didn't get up, "Anyone else have any question?"

       No one said anything.

       Darren got up, and resheathed his knife. Everyone remained quiet, and waited for the briefing to begin.

~~~~~~

       Alexandra walked into Walter's station, and stopped dead in her tracks.

       There was a woman working on piece of equipment. A woman Alexandra didn't recognize. Walter must have heard her question, because he appeared from behind a rack of weaponry, "Alex! Red how ya doing today?"

       "Fine," Alexandra said, glancing from the woman to Walter, waiting for him to tell her who this strange person was.

       "Meet Brianna," Walter grinned, "Brianna - this is Alexandra. She's a cold op - and a good friend."

       "Hello," Brianna said gently, regarding the redhead opening, assessing her. Alexandra didn't feel like she was being measured up though. There was something . . . friendly . . .about Brianna.

        "You're looking a little tired Red," Walter said, "You got a briefing?"

       Alexandra laughed a little, "I uh . . . I was up late and I had to catch a ride in this morning."

       "Ah hah! I thought Darren looked rather contented this morning. He can sleep on the transport, what are you gonna do?"

       "Catch a nap in my quarters," Alexandra told him, "I just wanted to stop by, say hello and talk to you about a tracker and comm device."

       Alexandra settled herself onto one of the bar stools.

       "What do you want it to do?" Walter asked her.

       "I'd love one of those subcutaneous ones again. Carlson could rip off a piece of jewelry - he's dealing in those little button things now. He's gotta know I'm wearing something, but I want it to be difficult to find."

       "You had my two prototypes Red," Walter told her, "And Pepe's only traces his location now. We can't listen in on him anymore. They're just not holding up well."

       "Bummer," Alexandra sighed, "Pepe's tracker isn't gonna hurt him, is it?"

       Pepe had trotted over to his little dog bed, and he perked up when he heard his name.

       "Naw," Walter said, "They're just disintegrating is all. How long do I have to come up with something?"

       Alexandra shrugged, "Depends. He probably won't call for another couple of days. I'll take whatever you have - I just don't trust him - or his temper. I think his affections for me are wavering. He doesn't like the way I dress."

       Walter laughed, "They're not wavering Red. He's jealous."

       Alexandra humphed, "He's a possessive prick. This is never going to work. Sooner or later he's going to do something stupid. I always have Michael or someone hovering nearby - but just the same . . ."

~~~~~~        

       "It was crude, but under the circumstances, it was the best choice," Madeline told him.

       The mission had gone well. Darren was immensely relieved. His team performed well. Their target was brought in with little more than a few scrapes and bruises. No one questioned his orders, no one deviated from the profile.

        Madeline had just played back the video feed of what had taken place in the briefing room before the mission briefing.

        "Have you seen Alexandra since we last spoke?" Madeline asked him.

       "Yes," Darren replied.

       "Was she receptive to your advances?" Madeline asked him.

       "Yes," Darren replied.

       "Did she mention Carlson?" Madeline asked him.

       "Yes. He insulted the way she dressed, said something about if she was going to act like a whore she should meet him in a sleazy motel. She wasn't exactly happy with him over that," Darren told Madeline.

       Madeline shook her head, just a little, "When do you see her again?"

       "I'm going to look for her when I leave here," Darren told her.

       "Good," Madeline told him, "I know you're not totally comfortable with this. It's not a matter of not trusting her. We just want her to experience reinforcement of where her real friends are. Carlson will try to manipulate her."

       Darren was tempted to point out that real friends wouldn't be manipulating her. He'd tell her tonight that Madeline had told him to 'court her'.

~~~~~~

       Alexandra sat calmly through the briefing. The target was a womanizer. She was going to have to play up to this bastard too she supposed. She was sitting down when Michael walked in, and sat down next to her.

       "So what kind of bait am I this time? Hard to get bait? Ready and willing bait?"

       "You're on the periphery," Michael told her, "I called Gina in. You'll take her place if she can't get close to him."

       Alexandra was surprised. She never worked the periphery on stuff like this. Had she done something wrong? Had Madeline found a flaw in her performance with Carlson?

       "Michael," Alexandra asked quietly after a few minutes, "Did I do something wrong?"

       Michael shook his head, "No."

       She was silent for a few moments, "Then why am I on the periphery."

       "You asked for assault missions. I need you on this one - but I need people on the periphery too. Gina hasn't been observed on this kind of mission at this station," Michael told her.

       Alexandra nodded, relief flooding her. A smile crept across her lips. She could have hugged Michael for this, but she couldn't - not here.

       Gina walked in, spotted Alexandra sitting next to Michael, and her eye's narrowed. She didn't like to work with other women.  She sat down on the far end of the table, and decided to keep her mouth shut for the moment. Darren was turning out to be a dangerous team leader to mess with - and his affections for Alexandra were well known. Michael was also known to be fond of Alexandra.

       The briefing began. The target was meeting someone in a club in Amsterdam tomorrow night. When the person he was meeting left, Gina would work her way over, spend time with the target, and get him to leave with her. Section would be waiting for him outside.

       They were scheduled to leave in half an hour. Just enough time to run up to wardrobe, and then visit Walter for her gun. Alexandra heard Gina walk into wardrobe behind her, and demand the wardrobe caretakers full attention. She had to be perfect, Gina told the attendant, the whole mission revolved around her.

       Alexandra quietly worked her way through the racks, and found her old favorite - the jade green satin slip dress.

       She slid the dress into a garment back, picked out a pair of shoes she knew would fit, grabbed up a small black clutch purse, and she quickly headed out of wardrobe, and down to Walter's station.

       "Hi Brianna," Alexandra greeted her as she walked up, "How ya doing?"

       Brianna glanced up from the piece of hardware she was working on, "I am good."

       Alexandra thought her response sounded forced, as if she was a little uncomfortable still.

       "I need to pick myself up a small SIG to fit in my purse - and a knife with a thigh sheath," Alexandra told her.

       She nodded quietly, and walked into the back.

       "Walter?" Brianna's voice drifted up quietly, "Alex is asking for a gun and a knife."

       "Go ahead and give them to her - check them out to her on the computer."

       "OK . . . she wants a specific type of sheath for the knife - for her leg," Brianna told him, "I don't know where that is."

       "Right over here," Walter told her, "Alex probably wants something she can wear under her skirt - these here go around the thigh - the knife pulls out this way . . . see?"

       "Aaaaahhhhhh," Brianna was obviously impressed, "Where do I find the SIGs?"

       "Hand guns," Walter told her "Rack 5 and 6."

       Alexandra glanced at her watch. She needed to get to egress soon. But Brianna was new, and Alexandra didn't want to alienate her by rushing her either.

       Brianna came back out from the back a moment later with the knife and the sheath, and then went back for the gun. She came aback out a few moments later with the gun, and three magazines.

       "Alexandra, right?" Brianna asked.

       "Yeah," Alexandra told her, "For the Tegran mission - do you have the trackers?"

       Brianna just barely nodded, and typed into the computer for a few minutes.

       "OK - here is your tracker," Brianna told her, "You place it . . . wherever you want I guess."

       Alexandra smiled, and pressed the small dot just behind her ear, "Thanks Brianna. I guess I'll see ya in a few days when I bring all this stuff back."

       Alexandra ran for egress. Gina was going to be late, but there was no reason for Alexandra to wait for her.

       The rest of the team was loaded up. Michael stood by, his face impassive.

       "Where's Gina?" Michael asked her.        

       "I saw her in Wardrobe last. Brianna had to find a gun for me," Alexandra said softly, "So Gina might take a few more minutes if she hasn't already picked up her gear."

       Michael didn't react. Alexandra got into the van, found a seat and sat down.

       Willy leaned over and whispered to Alexandra  "This Gina chick is a bitch. Why do we need her when we got you?"

       Alexandra wasn't about to tell him what was going on, so she just said, "Don't ask me. I don't assign staffing. You meet Brianna?"

       "Yeah," Willy said, "Walter was all but drooling on her."

       "She seems nice," Alexandra said, "A little quiet - but she's new. This isn't the easiest bunch to just warm up to."

       Gina stomped into the van.

       "Stupid German old bag!" She complained loudly.

       Alexandra looked over at Michael, raising one eyebrow, her expression telling him that this was just not acceptable. Michael didn't respond to Gina at all, just leaned forward to the driver, "We're late - let's go."

       Alexandra could feel someone's eyes on her. She didn't even have to look and see who it was. Twice when Alexandra had walked down the airplanes aisleway to get some water or a snack, she'd seen Gina watching her, assessing her.

        This is like being back in high school , Alexandra thought to herself. But in high school, girls like Gina didn't consider Alexandra a threat. She'd been different then - dumpy even. If someone like Gina had dared to start something with Alexandra, or even glared at her the way Gina was doing now, Lora would have glared right back, daring them to continue. She'd been cocky that way. Alexandra had always admired the backbone Lora had - at least, the backbone everyone saw Lora have outside of her home, away from Juan . . .

       Alexandra had found her strength behind the symbol of a star - the mandates of the law. It was different when she was working as a cadet - out with her mentor at the sheriff's department. Would he approve of how she handled things now? Would he smile and nod his approval when she ignored someone like Gina - when she stood up for someone who was at a disadvantage?

       He wouldn't be proud of what else she'd become now. If she was being honest with herself, she still found her strength by hiding behind things. When she and Darren had first come out of their initial two years of training, she'd thought she was the stronger of them. She'd found a source of strength by convincing herself he needed her support. How wrong she'd been. Darren liked her support, but he could live without it. In fact, he'd done rather well without it, by Sections standards. Now, it was her that needed him. Their roles had reversed. He was confident, strong, and in control. She was still the same frightened girl she'd been in high school. She just looked better - and that had it's own curse.

       "Stop it," Michael said softly.

       Alexandra looked up. Michael had been sitting across from her, working on something on his laptop.

       "Stop what? I'm just sitting here," She said softly.

       "What were you thinking about?" Michael asked her gently.

       Alexandra tilted her jaw up, just a hair. Defiance.

       "Pepe."

       "Liar," Michael said softly, "Try again."

       She looked away from him, "Why do you want in my head? It's bad enough trying to keep Madeline out."

       Michael almost held his breath. Was he being so obvious? Alexandra was very observant. She picked up on things, sometimes before she was really able to put her finger on what it was, she knew something was up.

       "The next six months are important," Michael told her, "They will be watching closely."

       Alexandra sighed, "What if I don't want the promotion?"

       Michael watched her, "You will. When you're answering to a new team leader, and they're unsure, and the situation is riskier than you're comfortable with, you'll want to make the decision yourself. We're not so different."

       Alexandra sighed, "Michael you have no idea how different we are."

       Michael watched her carefully, her face, her body language, "I have doubts Rouge. Often. I just can't show it."

       She looked back at him. Had she been so easy to read?

       "Michael - I don't want to talk about this here. There are too many ears. Some of which I want to rip off certain people's heads," Alexandra told him.

       He nodded.

       "You had another dog, before Pepe," Michael said, changing the subject, "What was his name?"

       Alexandra closed her eye's, "Stripe."

       "Tell me about him," Michael urged her.

       Alexandra felt a thousand memories slam into her. Stripe - her first dog. The dog she'd left behind with someone else when she knew she was going to be convicted and sent to jail. She'd learned during her first week in prison that he'd died. It had been a crushing blow to her. She'd curled up in a ball on her bunk and cried hard bitter tears. She hadn't cried like that since Lora died. It had been the final blow she could handle, or so she thought.

       "He was a fox terrier," Alexandra told him, "A whole 15 pounds. Small, petite. Maybe 8 inches tall when he stood. He had long looking legs, a slender body. Tannish-red color - with four white paws - a white tip on his tail, and a white band around his neck. A stripe of white came up under his jaw from the band, over his nose, between his eyes and ears, and down the back of his head. His belly had white fur, but it was thin. He had these brown spots on his skin that didn't match his fur patterns, and in the summer, he'd lay in the sun, and they'd get darker. I used to say it was his way of tanning."

       "Terriers like to dig, right?" Michael asked her.

       Alexandra rolled her eyes, "Oh yeah. They'll dig under any fence, dig up any potted plant in the house, try to dig a hole in the carpet. They love to dig. Dig and run. We'd go down to the beach and he'd race up and down the sand - chasing seagulls - when he wasn't digging in the sand."

       "Did he bury things?" Michael asked her.

       Alexandra drew in a breath, "Nope. He just dug holes. He was a little odd that way. He slammed into the glass 10 times before he figured out it was there - going nuts to get to a cat too."

       "I never had a pet," Michael told her, "Not a dog anyway. I had a fish for a while."

       Alexandra raised an eyebrow, "Goldfish?"

       "Beta," Michael told her.

       That figures . . . Alexandra thought to herself. Solitary and aggressive fish for a solitary aggressive man . . .

       "Michael, why are we talking about dogs and fish?" Alexandra asked him, "If you want to know something, just ask."

       "I did," Michael reminded her.

       She sighed, "I was thinking about the way I was in high school, before Lora died, the way I was when I first came to Section - and the way I am now."

       Michael listened to her tone of voice, watched her body language, "and?"

       "Not a lot has changed," She told him, "The body looks better, the cloths are different."

       Michael glanced out the window. They'd be landing soon.

       "You're stronger than you think," He told her, "When you first came here, there were times I thought you wouldn't make it. I have no doubts now."

       "I'm just lucky that way," Alexandra quipped, and looked at him, "You're profiling me, aren't you?"

       "A good mentor always keeps track of his protégé's," Michael told her.

       Alexandra rolled her eye's, "Fancy words Michael."

~~~~~~

       "Gina's out?" Darren sighed, "With who?"

       Kim looked back down at the screen, "Michael took her - and Alex. Wish I was there to watch that! I'm under the impression Alexandra has a temper."

       Darren sighed, "She doesn't take any crap, that's for sure . . . . call in everyone else, I'll try to scrounge up one more person."

       "Oakey dokey boss," Kim said, "Can I make a suggestion?"

       Darren had turned to go in search of Nikita, but stopped, "Always."

       "I want a mission for a week someplace warm and tropical," Kim told him, "And I want to work undercover, on the beach - with Mai Tai's . . ."

       Darren grinned, "You and me both!"

       Darren started across the main floor, aiming for the hallway that would take him to Nikita's office. He knew she would be there, with a mission about to launch. She'd be checking last minute details, just in case . . .

       "Hey," Darren said, rapping his knuckle's on her open door, "I'm down one a woman. Michael took Gina. This Mission wasn't supposed to launch for three more days - and this target is definitely straight. We need some bait to dangle."

       Nikita looked up at him, "OK - who do you have in mind?"

       "I don't," Darren told her, "That's the problem. We're tapped. I was looking over Kim's shoulder at comm. I even thought about abeyance on the way over here, but the two women in abeyance just can't pull this off."

       Nikita sighed, and closed her eye's, "I'm about to lead an all men team out to Tuscany - and I can't hand this one to you and take your's over . . ."

       Darren sighed, "We could case him, wait for him to leave on his own. The exposure rate is much higher that way though, and drugging him would be harder . . ."

       Nikita shook her head, "Oh no - that's a nightmare waiting to happen. Not after what happened in Alton."

       They were both quiet for a moment.

       Nikita's intercom beeped at her, and Kim's voice came through, "Nikita, Darren, Everyone has been called."

       Darren's head snapped up, and he looked at Nikita. Nikita's eye's met Darrens.

       "She has no training," Nikita told him.

       "And this mission is not going to happen any other way," Darren replied, "All she has to do is flirt and be daring. If he doesn't take the bait, we take him when he leaves."

       Nikita sighed, "Let's talk to Madeline. I don't know how this target will react to a woman with a cane."

~~~~~~

       Kim spun around in her chair, seeing Darren and Nikita practically run up to Madeline's office.  Kim knew they were faced with a touch decision. Their only real options were to sack the mission - or to pull from abeyance - and frankly, the two women in abeyance weren't up to this.

       "Hey gorgeous," Tony's voice said, from behind Kim.

       Kim turned her chair, and looked up at him, "Hey stud."

       He grinned down at her, and leaned back against a pillar, "Guess this means you and I won't be spending the night together huh?"

       Kim laughed, "Not the way we'd like to. Darren's team is going out. The Mirrachka mission got pushed up a few days. Right now, they're scrambling to find something female and pretty, because our bait - Gina - is out on another mission. In fact, I think that all but 5 cold ops total are going to be out on missions, going or returning, in a two hour frame after Darren's team goes live."

       "Damn," Tony said, "Job security."

       Kim laughed, "Yeah - we're gonna be pulling a long long long night. Here to New York and back. I never sleep well on planes."

       ~~~~~~

       "You think Kim can pull this off?" Madeline asked Darren, but still looking at Kim's profile, "She has absolutely no training for this at all."

       Darren nodded, "I know, I know. But we're going to miss our opportunity - and if we just stake the place out, our exposure rate goes through the roof."

       "I've seen Kim flirt," Nikita told her, "She practically seduced Michael herself when she was his target 5 years ago."

       "She's could be killed very easily, because she needs a cane to walk," Madeline told Darren, "You'll have to keep someone close by - just in case. We're just barely at operating ratios in comm right now. Call in Simon to do comm support. Send Kim to wardrobe. I'll meet her there and go over a few suggestions."

~~~~~~

       Kim felt her jaw drop open, and she almost instantly refused.

       "You don't think you can do this?" Madeline asked her, knowing that Kim's pride was an especially effective weapon against her.

       "Sure I can," Kim told her, "There was a time I could make half your female cold ops pale in comparison - but most people see the cane first - me second."

       Madeline smiled, "That's what we have wardrobe for. We'll make you absolutely stunning - so he notices you first. Don't ask for help, he won't think you need any."

       Madeline pulled a rack of dresses out of a closet, "Now, we want him to notice the woman, not the dress, but the dress has to show off the woman . . ."

       Madeline picked out a dress that was made of a shiny charcoal colored fabric. It split up on thigh, right to the beginning of her Kim's hip. It was form fitting, the bodice was strapless, the fabric loosened just at the hips where the split started. Silk stockings and a strapless bra, the shoes that were picked out were little more than black strappy high heels. Madeline had Kim walk around in the heels with a different cane for a few moments, just to make sure she could do it.

       Then the hair dresser swept Kim's hair up into a mass of curls on top of her head, one lock hung down to curve just under her chin. Her makeup was sparing and tasteful, accenting her eye's and lips. Onyx beaded drop earrings and an onyx beaded necklace completed the outfit.

       Kim stood in front of the mirror, feeling like she was looking at a woman 5 years younger. It (had) been years since Kim had shown this much cleavage, let along that much of her leg. Madeline pressed the dot that was her comm unit just behind her ear.

       "Now," Madeline told her, "This is what you can expect from your target - and this is what you will do . . ."

~~~~~~

       "She's doing what?" Tony snapped.

       Simon looked up at the same time, the whole team seemed poised on Darren's next words. Darren glanced over the people on this team. He hadn't had any problems with them in over a week, but he hadn't given an inch either. He wished Tony hadn't reacted so much. He could understand it, but now, he was on the spot. Tony had become a friend, he didn't want to have to put him in place.

       "She's going to be the bait for our target," Darren told him, "That or I was going to have to put you in a dress - and let's face it, Kim has nicer legs."

       Tony took a deep breath, "Yeah . . . she does . . . I wasn't questioning you man - it just surprised me is all.

        "No offense taken," Darren told him.

       There was a bit of shuffling around, small noises as they waited. The sound of someone - no, two someone's walking drew their attention. Darren stepped out of the van loading walkway and into the hall.

       "Oh my god!" he said softly.

       Tony looked up, and a moment later, Kim stepped into view.

       Kim, with an awful lot of her exposed. More than anyone in Section - save Tony, had seen in a long long time.

       The dress came up to her hip, revealing a long shapely leg encased in silk stockings. The top was low cut and strapless, revealing the full curves of her breasts, then curving in with her waist, flowing over her full hips. Tony felt his mouth go dry. She looked good, damn good.

       She walked comfortably in the heels, using a cane that Tony knew he hadn't seen before. A simple black cane with an ornate handle.

        Her jewelry, hair and makeup completed a look that made everyone stare at her in awe. None of them had seen Kim like this. Tony had seen her dress up a few times, but never like this . . .

       "You better get going," Madeline encouraged them.

       "Yeah," Darren said, and stepped back, "After you Kim."

~~~~~~

       Alexandra found herself positioned with Michael. He had his arm around her waist, so they looked like a couple out for the evening. He was quietly teaching her the things she needed to look for, quizzing her. He was teaching her how to lead and run a mission. He gave the orders himself, but he made sure Alexandra knew why he gave them, asked for her suggestions.

       Gina had managed to get herself into the targets lap. For a few moments it had looked doubtful that the target was going to bite, but he did, finally. Now it was just a matter of waiting it out, and making sure he didn't send her packing.

       Michael turned his transmitter off, so no one else but Alexandra could hear him. Alexandra's had been on monitor only for a while.

       "What else should she be doing?" Michael asked Alexandra quietly.

       "She's not making eye contact with him at all. She's watching someone else across the room," Alexandra told him, and turned to look, "I would say the bouncer."

       "John, check out the bouncer," Michael ordered, "Gina, eyes on your target."

       "She frowned," Alexandra said softly, "If he asks why . . ."

       "She'll have to lie," Michael replied.

       "Her mind isn't on the target, that's the biggest problem," Alexandra told him, "So she's easily distracted. Has she been taught to focus her attention elsewhere, to get through something she finds distasteful?"

       "Her mission records don't show her acting as bait for anything in over three years," Michael told Alexandra, "She's out of practice. She was sleeping with Devin - he didn't want to share her bed with anyone. He had no problem sending her on missions - but not out to someone else's bed."

       Alexandra sighed, "Didn't anyone notice this?"

       "Yes," Michael told her, "I trusted Devin once. It was a mistake."

       Alexandra glanced at him briefly, "That's who you took Kim to."

       "Yes," Michael replied, "What else?"

       "She's drinking a little to much in my opinion," Alexandra told him, "I don't know what her tolerance is - but she can't afford to get tipsy."

       "It's high," Michael told her, "But Tom is making sure her drinks are weak. I took care of that."

       Alexandra nodded, but barely, "So you knew about it ahead of time then . . ."

       "Yes," Michael replied, "Always know each team members weak points and strong points. Sometimes, you have to read between the lines. Gina's file has a lot of biased information in it."

       Alexandra took a deep breath, "So if Devin and Gina were a thing - and Section knew about it, and knew that Devin wasn't using Gina the way he should have been - why didn't they yank his chain?"

       "Devin performed better when he had female companionship," Michael replied, "His performance ratios were just above acceptable for his position when he was sleeping with Kim. They went up when he was sleeping with Gina. Guess why."

       Alexandra sighed, and thought for a few minutes, "Kim handles men differently than Gina. Gina tends to let them lead her, while Kim expects things to be 50/50 . . . from what little I have seen. I've only seen Gina in action for the last two weeks."

       "You're right," Michael assured her, "Kim might have had a tempering affect on Devin. He'd become power hungry towards the end."

       Alexandra sighed, "But his performance went up?"

       "He took more risks with his people," Michael told her, "Sometimes unnecessary risks. His mission success rates went up - but his medical expenses with his staff did as well. Section doesn't look at human resources the way they taught you to in college."

       Alexandra blinked, "You knew I took human resources classes in college?"

       "You also took one year of Spanish. You took low impact aerobics for your phys ed requirements. You bounced back and forth in your eating habits from starches and meats to all vegetarian. You took Karate one quarter, dated one of your other classmates for a few weeks during the class. He graduated, the relationship ended. You kept people at arms length, but covered it reasonably well. You avoided the Psyche classes as much as you could. You never drank in extremes. You never used drugs, and distanced yourself from people who did. You lived in Barto hall for two and a half years," Michael told her, "Did I miss anything?"

       "What color underwear did I buy and wear?" Alexandra asked him jokingly.

       "You dressed conservatively," Michael replied, "And you didn't sleep around. The experience you had seeing what happened with Lora made you very reserved with sex. It's probably the reason you unconsciously stayed with just Darren until recently. When we thought he was dead, you didn't pick a new partner."

       "I wouldn't say I'm reserved," Alexandra told him.

       "Not with Darren," Michael replied.

       Alexandra swallowed hard, "I don't even want to know how you know so much about my sex life with Darren."

       Michael actually chuckled, "Most of the information I have about you is from reports - we evaluate everything when we bring in a new recruit. We were able to pull your class schedules, someone investigated you again after your conviction."

       "Did they see Stripe, before he died?" Alexandra asked him, "Any pictures?"

       "They don't take pictures," Michael told her.

       Alexandra sighed, "Gina's attention is straying again."

       Michael smiled. He was about to ask Alexandra what had gone on with Gina while he was dumping everything he knew about Alexandra onto her lap - a lesson on staying focused herself. She'd passed with flying colors.

       "Gina," Michael said, activating his comm unit, "Eyes on your target. Invite him up to your room."

       Alexandra jumped into the van a moment before Michael did, and she felt the van start to move the second his foot cleared the ground.

       All in all, it had been a successful mission. She could lead a team she thought, it was just mentally exhausting, having to watch everyone, see everything . . .

        Darren must be exhausted by the time he came back from his missions. At least Michael hadn't been a total hard ass. He just hadn't given Gina an inch - but they couldn't afford to. Alexandra knew that if it had been her on the targets lap, and not Gina, they'd have been able to pull him in much faster.

        But Michael was training her for something else now. Alexandra was grateful. It was nice to not feel like she wanted to rip off the dress and burn it.

~~~~~

       Kim sat on a bar stool, her entire leg barred to the targets view. She ordered herself a glass of sparkling water, kept her back straight, and looked over the room, proud, confident . . . and watching like she was looking for prey. That was what got to the target - and she'd have to come off as very very confident, because she was going to be walking with a cane.

       Tony had taken up a position a few feet away from the target - he could get to her quick if anything went wrong. Darren was also near by, on the other side. The other team-members were spread around the club, everyone ready, waiting.

       Kim let her eye's travel over the target, his companion, openly assessing them, her gaze moving back to the target. She sipped her sparkling water, letting her eyes roam the club again, then going back to the target.

       She saw the target whisper something to one of his men, and the man walked over to where Kim sat.

       The man asked Kim to join the target for a drink and dinner. Kim looked past the man who'd approached her again, and watched the target for a moment.

       She handed her sparkling water to the man who'd walked up to her, slid off her bar stood, and started across the room, her back straight, shoulders back, walking tall, proud. The target took in everything about her, including the cane, his interest piqued. Kim thought this was too easy.

       Then she quickly learned what the hard part was. She had to tolerate the bastard for three hours while she drank lightly, ate dinner with him, and then agreed to leave the club with him. His hands had spent half the night on her thigh, the other half on her butt. He'd ogled her breasts the entire time,  his fingers straying to brush the curve of her flesh where the dress ended, when his arm was around her. Her skin practically crawled everytime he moved his hand.

       Someone else managed to get something into the drinks of his thugs and his friends, before they were served to them. By the time they were leaving, all of them were feeling very tired.

        Kim knew that they'd be taken once they got out onto the street. She felt Tony's hands on her waist, pulling her away quickly, while the thugs were taken out, the target tranqued, and the whole mess of them shoved into the back of the van. Kim scrambled in behind them with Tony right behind her. Before the door was closed they were pulling away.

       "Christ almighty!" Kim swore, "What an asshole! I need a bath! A hot one to scrub his grubby prints off of me! This dress will have to be burned!"

       Darren laughed out loud, the rest of the team relaxing. The profile had been changed just a bit, but it had gone off without a hitch. By Section One's standards, it was a successful mission. It was a successful mission by Darren's standards because they were all going home - alive.

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