Let the games begin . . .
By: Kimberly
"She's my material!" Stephen snapped, "How am I supposed to effectively train her - when every time I go on a mission, she's given over to someone else!"
Madeline calmly pruned one of her bonsai tree's. She waited for a few moments, just long enough to let Stephen know that he would wait on her.
"Tyler is a Valentine trainer only. We use him for problem cases like Kristie. She's almost completed the training, and she'll be returned to you then . . . after I establish what is the real reason behind this outburst," Madeline walked back around behind her desk and sat down.
Stephen had gone through briefing, showered and changed, and was back in her office, early that morning. His hair was still damp, and the firm set to his jaw hid how tired he must be. Madeline knew he was incredibly pissed, to be here in her office so early, after so long and grueling a mission.
"It's very simple. Every time someone else interferes, I have to backtrack. Her strength - her strong willed temperament - also makes her difficult to train - and I was making headway," Stephen told her, "She's not like any other recruit I've worked with. She came to us halfway there, and while it appears that she's doing well over all, I'd hate to miss something, and have her fail - because I had to trust someone else's notes and training methods," Stephen argued.
"You were not effective in her Valentine training," Madeline stated simply.
"The first round didn't go well. It rarely does," Stephen reminded her, "I think I could have used a lot from what we saw in her first session."
Madeline sighed, "She was also concerned for you when you were sent on a mission. I'm a little concerned about how attached she is to you."
Stephen felt his stomach twist into a knot.
"She either likes people, or she doesn't. If she likes you, she worried for you when you're not around," Stephen told Madeline, "Nothing more, nothing less."
"I suspect that Tyler will destroy that tendency quite effectively. He should be done with her in the next two weeks, I'll inform you when you can resume her normal training schedule."
It was a dismissal, plain and simple. Stephen walked out of Madeline's office, acid in his stomach. I suspect that Tyler will destroy that tendency quite effectively . . . for the first time in years, Steven wished there was some way he could get someone out of Section One. He didn't want to see Kristie's spirit destroyed.
Nikita saw Michael walk onto the main floor of Section One, and watched him, until he looked in her direction. This was going to be difficult, pretending she despised the man she loved. Of course, she knew he'd make it easy for her to act. He'd provided ample opportunities for her to practice the use of her sharp tongue. Every time they crossed paths, they exchanged some type of unpleasantries.
He ignored her, and kept going. Nikita felt something hurt deep inside, but reminded herself that it was just an act. They'd hook up later, outside of Section One. She'd sent an email to his anonymous web email address. They'd agreed to check them often, so they'd know when they had to meet, outside of Section one.
Nikita finished up what she was doing, and went home to rest. She needed to sleep badly.
Michael wanted to drag her out of Section One and reassure both of them that they really had planned all this. That they really weren't so angry at each other. Each argument cut into him like a razor. Every time he saw her blue eye's look so angry, so hurt, it tore at his heart.
She stood over by the comm station, and looked in his direction. They'd had four public arguments in the last two weeks. It had been a very difficult two weeks. He didn't see any really good opportunity to argue with her right now, and she did look tired. He knew she'd been out on a mission for the last 48 hours. So he ignored her, and kept going. He'd catch up with her later. Maybe she'd sent him an email.
The safest place to check was his office. It took him a few moments to get to the web site, and log onto his anonymous account. There were 3 junk emails, and one from Sally Johnson, which was Nikita's false name for the email account.
Going home to get much needed sleep. Coffee shop, 4pm. Will check email b-4.
Michael erased the message, and logged off.
Just then, He saw Darren pass by his office.
"Darren," he called firmly.
There was a pause in the sounds of foot falls, and then a moment later, they resumed. Darren appeared in his doorway.
He was dressed in street cloths, probably on his way home. He'd been on the mission with Nikita. His hair hung loose, and he looked tired.
"What's up Michael?" Darren asked, his voice telling Michael that it didn't matter what was up, he wanted to go home.
"Don't make the mistake of getting too aggressive with Alexandra," Michael told him.
Cold water couldn't have gotten Darren's attention any better, "Pardon me?" he said, his voice held a hard edge to it.
"What exactly would you have done, if I hadn't blocked your path?" Michael asked him.
"Finished the argument," Darren told him, "Why did you get involved?"
"I don't like to see anyone bullied, especially when they're at a decided disadvantage," Michael replied.
Darren held his tongue, feeling his temper rise, "I find it difficult to see anyone bullying Alex. It's usually a matter of her wrapping every other man around her finger, you included apparently."
Michael kept his gaze calm and steady, "The last two months have been difficult for her. I was under the impression that you were friends . . . and more."
"So was I," Darren told him, "I'm at the end of my rope Michael. I never know what's going to come out of her next. Since you seem to be so fond of her, maybe you can tell me?"
Michael saw Nikita stop in the hallway, "Gentlemen, can I ask what's going on?"
Darren turned and started to walk out, "Ask Michael, Nikita."
Nikita turned, and chased after Darren. Michael felt the ugly green head of jealousy rear it's head.
Nikita woke up with a start, feeling someone caress her cheek. She sat up, rolled away, and reached for her gun.
But she stopped a moment later.
Michael watched her, his expression held a hint of a smile, and longing.
She relaxed, and crawled back across the bed towards him, "What are you doing here?"
"Why did you want to meet outside?" he asked in reply.
"Surveillance," she told him.
"I checked, we are not being monitored," Michael told her.
A lazy smile crossed her lips, and she pulled on Michael's arm, "Come here, I want to curl up in my husbands arms."
Michael felt his heart leap and swell. Did she know how much it meant to him, to hear her say that? Uncaring that his cloths would wrinkle, he stretched out on the bed wrapped his arms around her as she stretched out on top of him.
"I didn't mean what I said, it was just something to fuel the argument," Michael said gently, his lips pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
She turned her face to his, and kissed his lips, running her tongue along his lip line, playing, "Ditto."
They kissed for a few moments, then Michael rolled her under him, "You don't worry about what Darren was hinting at, do you?"
Nikita looked at him for a moment, taking in his serious expression.
"It would have been only natural, under the circumstances," Nikita replied.
Michael groaned, "Kita . . . I will never touch another woman, except under orders."
Nikita nodded, "I know that Michael - but as far as you knew, I was dead."
"Very recently dead," he reminded her, "What kind of man jumps into the arms of another woman when his wife has only been dead a few months?"
Nikita slid her fingers into the silky curls in his hair, "Michael - I'm not worried about it. You told me it didn't happen, I believe you. All I was saying was that it crossed my mind - a while ago, a long while ago . . . can you honestly say you've never looked at Darren and I working together, and not had the thought cross your mind, since we were separated for months."
Michael opened his mouth to deny it, but he couldn't, "Not . . . often."
"See," she said, "Relax. I'm not insecure, not about us. I don't want you to be either."
She slid her hands inside his jacket and started to push it back off his shoulders, "How long can you stay?"
Michael's green eyes were staring down into her blue ones, his expression intent, heady, longing . . .
"Until tomorrow, unless I get called in," Michael said gently, his fingers tracing across her cheek bones, her lips. He rolled off of her, and shrugged off his jacket and shoulder holster, leaving his gun by the bedside table. He watched Nikita as she climbed off her bed, glad in a T-shirt and panties.
"I'm kinda hungry - I was gonna heat up myself some soup or something . . . want some?" she asked him.
Michael nodded, "Sure," and he watched her walk bare legged out of the bedroom, down the few short steps into the kitchenette. He followed.
She pulled out two beers, and reached into the cabinet for two cans of soup. Michael had to smile, this was the kind of cooking he did in college, during a different lifetime.
He watched her as she went through the motions of throwing the condensed soup into the pot, then two cans of water. She looked incredibly young just then. There was 8 years difference in their age, not a huge span in reality - not in their reality of finite years. But just this moment, she looked so very young. He watched as she wound her hair up into a knot of sorts, and handed him a beer.
"What?" she asked, not able to read the look he was giving her.
Michael slid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her towards him, pressing a kiss to her temple, "I was just thinking."
Nikita smiled a little, staying in his embrace, "Can I ask about what? You looked like you were a thousand miles away."
Michael had to smile, "I was. I was just thinking how . . . young . . . you look . . . and you are only 25 . . . I'm 33."
She laughed, "Feeling old Michael?"
"No," he replied, "Not when I'm with you."
Nikita nuzzled his neck, "Sometimes, with Darren and Alex, I feel like I've got a decade on them, when I've barely got 3 years on them."
"Alex has this innate ability to make anyone feel old," Michael commented, "She constantly tests the limits."
Nikita looked up at him, grinning, "What did she do this time?"
Michael sifted his fingers through Nikita's silky blonde hair, "She's provoking Darren a lot. For once, she's following orders with me, but I'm not holding my breath."
Nikita laughed a little, "I never had much trouble with her."
Michael rolled his eyes, "You were friends out side of Section though too."
Nikita nodded, "So . . . have you tried that?"
Michael took a big gulp off his beer, "I doubt it would work at this point. If I invited her to have coffee, outside of Section, she'd likely push me out into traffic."
Nikita laughed into his chest, "She really doesn't dislike you, you know."
Michael looked down at Nikita like she'd lost her mind.
"Really!" Nikita told him, pulling out of his arms to pull the soup off the burner. Michael watched as she poured it into two soup bowels, and grabbed some crackers and spoons. She piled it all onto a tray, and carried it out into the living room, and set the tray down in the middle of the floor.
"She does eventually listen to you, right?" Nikita asked him.
"After she's argued and rebelled as much as she can," Michael replied.
"But when it's really serious-"
"It's always serious in Section Nikita," Michael reminded her.
"OK, when it's going to put someone else at risk - she comes to heel, right?" Nikita asked him.
"Yes," Michael replied.
"Right now, with her and Darren at each others throats, would be a good time to be her friend too. Especially considering what's happened to her the last two months," Nikita pointed out.
Michael just couldn't see that working at all, but he held his tongue.
"Do you know what sparked this last . . . problem between them?" Michael asked her.
Nikita nodded, "Yeah, she got her memory back. She broke it off before Germany - some bullshit about his being her weakness, if you can believe that line of-"
Michael cleared his throat.
Nikita smirked, "I proved you wrong, keep that in mind."
"She did fall apart when we thought he was dead," Michael pointed out.
"She was gang raped in Iraq, raped by her trainer at the end of her two years training time, two close friends run and are killed because they've got HIV, one of the psych profilers is almost stalking her constantly, and then there was that fiasco with Anna, Madeline pimps her to every playboy we want to get our hands on . . . gee, does that sound like job stress? I'm not surprised she was a mess, I'm not surprised she got addicted. I didn't like it, but I wasn't surprised."
"You didn't do what she did," Michael pointed out.
"I didn't face what she did all in a year and a half. I still haven't had to deal with all the crap she did. She has the worst luck on the planet," Nikita pointed out, "Hey . . . we're not fighting about this, are we?"
Michael looked up, surprised, "No."
Nikita nodded slowly, "I'm just making a suggestion . . . she is your material."
Darren saw Kristie walking over in his direction. She was mopping up her face after her work out. He was still doing bench presses on the nautilus, and just as he was returning the bar to the start position, she sat down on his stomach.
Darren had been expecting that. Kristie was always doing something outrageous.
"I heard you had a shitty mission," Darren said, remaining where he was.
She rolled her eye's, "My drug was inert. I'm making a ton of noise, I blow the safe - and the whole while, he's just upstairs asleep - and not under the influence of what I thought was a powerful sleep agent. He just passed out right after he came."
"We do that," Darren told her, "If you wear us out."
Kristie grimaced, "Normally I'd whine to Alex about this, or Nikita, no offense - it's just that you're a guy . . . but I can't find either one of them right now."
Darren grinned, "True, I am a guy - but we're pals, right?"
"Yeah, we're pals," she said, "I'm kinda worried about how I look at the whole fuck em, pump em for information, and leave them thing."
Darren started another set, "Go on."
"Tyler see's every person as someone you can't trust. You use them, dispose of them, end of discussion. He seems very friendly and passionate at first - but give it a couple days - and you see right through it. He's cold and calculating underneath. . . I don't want to end up like that," Kristie told him.
Darren pushed the bar up again, "What makes you think you will. You're one of the nicest people I know Kristie."
"Because I can fuck on command," Kristie told him, "It's almost too easy."
Darren groaned, and returned the bar to the start position, "Get off my stomach."
She stood up, "What? Did I hurt you?"
"No, but I'm wearing spandex shorts, you're talking about sex, and I haven't laid a finger on Alex in two weeks, and I just got this mental picture . . ."
Kristie laughed, "Huh? Wait! did you say two weeks? She just . . ."
Darren looked at the blonde, "Do you honestly think a wheelchair and a couple casts would stop me?"
Kristie rolled her eye's, "I thought a camera in section would. You gotta be careful!"
"We were, trust me," Darren told her, sitting upright on the bench, "Not that I am any expert - but you know men can get it up just by thinking about it half the time - so we can fuck on command . . . I don't think you have to worry about being cold and calculating, as long as you keep your own relationships, the ones we're not supposed to have - separate. When I'm with Alex - I'm focused on Alex. When it's a target, I don't look at her face. I keep it as impersonal as possible, without giving myself away. I doubt Tyler has any real friends. As long as you can separate your friends and your targets . . . Maybe you should talk to Michael about this. He has a lot more ground covered with this."
Kristie shook her head, "Bad idea. I was his target once."
Darren groaned, "Oh, yeah . . . bad idea."
"It eats Alex up inside, doesn't it," Kristie asked gently.
Darren nodded, "Yeah, it does . . . she probably scrubbed herself till she was damn near raw in Germany, didn't she?"
Kristie nodded, "We both did."
"Then I somehow doubt you're going to end up like Tyler," Darren told her.
She nodded, "But the other night with Tyler- I was doing just what I'm afraid of - I just did it. No big deal - I was thinking about how to phrase a question I was gonna ask later."
Darren smiled, "You're not going to be friends with him Kristie - you're treating him like a target - which is essentially what he is. A target to practice on . . .unless he's becoming more?"
Kristie shook her head, "Not a prayers chance in hell. I want . . . something different."
"Different being Stephen?" Darren asked her.
Kristie's head snapped around, "What makes you say that!?"
"I'm good at reading people - you have chemistry between you," Darren told her.
"Not necessarily Stephen - hell, I technically can't have anyone in this place . . . I just don't want to constantly feel like I have to watch my back," Kristie told him.
"Well, when you pull your head out of your ass, and admit you've got an eye for Stephen, let me know," Darren teased her.
She groaned, "Do guys talk about these things like this, or just girls?"
Darren shook his head, "Not most of us. Mostly, we talk to Walter I think."
Kristie stood up, "Well, thanks for the girl chat Darren. You make a great surrogate girlfriend."
Darren managed a tight smile, "Thank you, I think."
Alexandra walked into the gym, Ryan in step with her. Darren and Kristie watched for a few minutes while the older operative flirted outrageously with Alexandra.
"Sometimes we talk about how we'd like to set other guys straight," Darren added after a few minutes of watching Ryan and Alexandra.
Kristie patted his shoulder, "You got nothing to worry about."
Alexandra ran a comb through her wet hair. Kristie had quietly told her that Darren would be waiting for her down two levels, in the recess of the stairwell. He wanted to talk to her. She pulled the skirt up over her hips, pulled her shirt on and slid her feet into her sandals, and slowly made her way down there. She didn't have anything scheduled for this afternoon, except for some time on the firing range with Walter, but that wasn't for two more hours.
She made it down to the level specified, but she didn't call out. She slowly walked along, watching the nooks and crannies. She didn't want to call attention to herself.
"Alex," Darren said sharply, but softly.
She felt his hand encircle her wrist, and she allowed him to pull her back behind a storage bin.
She opened her mouth to ask him what he needed to talk to her about, but his mouth suddenly covered hers, his tongue delving into her mouth, kissing her hungrily. She felt him press her back into the wall, his hands exploring and feeling. He slid them under her T-shirt, and he cupped her breasts, his fingers working her sensitive nipples.
She's probably never going to wear a bra again, Darren thought to himself as he found her breasts bare to his hands, her nipples already hard and erect under his palms. He felt her hands on his chest, then on his back as they kissed and touched.
He reached down, hiking her skirt up, and dropped to his knee's. He lifted one knee over his shoulder, and pulled her panties aside rather than taking them off, and parted her labia with his tongue, stroking her sensitive bud as hard as he could with his tongue. He felt her hands tangle in his hair, her grip tightening as she fought herself not to moan outloud. He deliberately pushed her over the edge quickly, enjoying the taste of her when she was so aroused. A moment later, he was freeing himself from his now painfully confining jeans, and rolling a condom down his hardened swollen shaft.
He stood up, and keeping her back pressed to the wall, sheathed himself inside her, his mouth devouring hers. He measured his strokes carefully, desperate to make her come one more time before he let his own release come. He didn't have to wait long. Her body started to spasm around him.
Then, the beeping sound of a pager startled them, and Darren came suddenly.
"NO FUCKING WAY!" Darren hissed, his face buried in her neck, gasping for air.
Slowly, he slid to his knee's, taking her down to the floor with him.
She trembled in his arms, "I think it was mine."
He'd had his face buried in her hair, and he looked up, and watched her pull her pager from her waist band and check it.
The words 'Briefing, 10 minutes' glowed on the digital display.
"They're sending you out already?" Darren asked, still a little breathless.
She gasped for air, looking at him, "Apparently so . . . What was all this about?"
Darren cupped her cheek, "I haven't been able to get you off my mind . . . and it was all I could do to contain myself, after watching Ryan virtually stalk you all over the gym."
Alexandra rolled her eye's, "I thought we were staging this friction thing Darren."
"We are," Darren told her, shifting his hips against hers, so she could feel him, still inside her, "But I still don't like seeing something we pulled out of the air actually start to happen - relax, I know it's him, not you."
She pressed a kiss to his neck, "I gotta go . . . Christ, I'm gonna smell like sex."
"You taste incredible when you're aroused," Darren told her, pulling back from her.
She smiled, and it struck Darren that she looked a little shy suddenly, "If you keep saying stuff like that, I'm not gonna make it through the briefing!"
Alexandra stood up on unsteady feet, and started to straighten her cloths, "Give me a couple minutes, before you follow me."
Darren nodded, and watched her walk away, still a little trembly. He sat back, flat on his butt, and yanked the condom off, and dropped in into the plastic sack he'd shoved into his pocket, and buttoned up his jeans. The last thing they needed to do was leave evidence behind, or be caught with their pants down . . . literally.
He got up, and started up the stairs.
Just as he got to the main floor, he saw Alex leaving Kristie in the hallway. Kristie turned, and spotted him coming up the stairs, and sent him a knowing look.
"I was not aware that she'd already gone through the full battery of tests," Madeline said, when she saw Michael's list of team members for this mission.
"She hasn't," Michael replied, "This is a controlled situation - a more realistic way to measure how she's going to handle herself. I think she's ready."
"And perhaps a way to boost her confidence?" Madeline asked.
The door to the briefing room slid open, and Alexandra walked through, Ryan close behind her.
"You look a little . . .mussed . . . Alex," Madeline observed, taking in the slightly disarranged hair. She also noticed a certain . . . glow about her.
"I was screwing around when my pager went off," Alexandra replied, "And I don't dare be late for a briefing."
She fought herself not to snicker, as she took her seat. Madeline and Michael would never know exactly how honest she was being.
The rest of the team filed in, and a moment later Operations arrived. The briefing started immediately.
"Michael and Alexandra are going to play a married couple who also happen to be information brokers," Operations began, "This man is your target. He's the gofer for an entity we've been trying to track for several months - Black Moon. They're a relatively new organization. We don't know how they're funded, or who the main players are. This first contact will be minimal, but it's a foot in the door. Michael and Alexandra will tag the target, and we will track him electronically from here. Ryan, Tom and Brett, you'll provide perimeter surveillance."
"This is an awfully small team," Alexandra mentioned, "I take it we're not expecting any trouble?"
"None," Madeline said, "If we had more Intel on Black Moon and the gofer, other than general reports, there would probably be no surveillance team. Your egress points are here, here and here. That is where Ryan, Tom and Brett will take up positions. The club has a dress code, you'll want to dress appropriately."
"Walter has gear prepared, Mission loading in 30 minutes," Operations dismissed them.
Alexandra stood up, and looked at Michael, "I'm going to wardrobe first."
She quickly left the room, and all but raced down to wardrobe. Madeline was a few feet behind her.
Madeline pulled out a long jade green velvet dress, with a split up to mid thigh. The door opened, and the men started to file in.
Alexandra was never so thankful to be interrupted by men on her team before. She wanted an excuse to change behind the privacy screen, rather than risk Madeline seeing any tell tale bruises from the frantic tryst Alexandra and Darren had shared less than an hour ago.
She pulled off her cloths, slid into the dress, and stepped out from behind the screen.
"I need to be zipped," Alexandra asked, looking around the room.
Michael was just pulling on his tux jacket. Alexandra turned and presented her back, and Michael gently pulled the zipper up.
"That's a good color for you," Michael said gently.
Alexandra almost fell over. It had to be months since she'd gotten a complement from Michael.
She didn't falter though, "Thanks."
Madeline held up thigh high silk stockings and black pumps. Alexandra sat down on a stool, and started to roll up the stockings, quickly, careful to keep as much dignity in the routine as possible. She applied just a touch of makeup, and swept her hair up with two combs, and started out the door for Walters station.
Nikita was standing there with Darren. Alexandra felt her stomach flip flop over. She was very aware that she was playing a role Nikita played, before she'd become a level 5 cold op.
"Well, what have we here?" Walter asked.
Darren's eye's appreciatively swept over Alexandra, taking in the slit up to mid thigh.
"Looks like a thigh holster is in order," Walter said.
Alexandra nodded.
"What's the mission?" Nikita asked her.
"We're tagging a gofer for a terrorist group, Black Moon," Alexandra told them.
She saw Darren's expression change, just slightly.
"Hey Walter! Is that not a great easy access dress?" Ryan asked.
Alexandra almost cringed. Darren smirked, "Guess I don't have to ask who your partner is. I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself."
Walter frowned, "Here you go Red, clips and all - the 45 you like best."
Alexandra propped one high heel clad foot on a chair exposing a long silk stocking clad leg, "Actually, I'm playing Michael's window dressing wife. We should be back in a couple hours."
She strapped on the thigh holster, and looked up, surprised to see a closed off expression on Nikita's face. Suddenly, she wished she'd said nothing. Alexandra straightened her dress, said good-bye to everyone, and took off for van egress. Ryan kept pace with her.
"Ryan - please don't bate Darren. I hate the scenes," Alexandra told him.
"He's incredibly whipped," Ryan laughed.
Alexandra wanted to smack him, "He was also a good friend once."
Michael heard the last bit, and looked at Alexandra expectantly. Michael held out something and she took it, but quickly climbed into the waiting limousine. The others would be going in the van. Michael had held out a ring - just part of the costume. She slid it on when the limousine doors were closed, and they were moving.
"You're tense," Michael commented.
Alexandra looked over at him, "You just missed a nice tense scene at Walters station - and despite my good intentions, I made it worse."
"What happened?" Michael asked her.
Alexandra took a deep breath, "Ryan made a joke to Walter, about my dress being easy access - a play on words, since I was strapping on a thigh holster. Darren took it to mean something sexual, and said he didn't have to guess who my partner was. I open my mouth and say you're my partner - then Nikita gets this odd look on her face - and I feel like an ass because I know she used to play this role and it's no secret the two of you aren't getting along well."
Michael was sitting across from her. She had one leg ankle crossed over the other, as modest a pose as possible.
"Nikita is no longer my material," Michael replied, "She's a level 5 operative. We won't work together nearly as often as before. She knows that."
"I know . . . but she and I are friends Michael - and I know you think that's a mistake and all, but it's not like I'm her material now - and it's not like I have so many friends . . . and I'm babbling about stuff that I shouldn't babble to you about," she opened up a bottled water, and took a healthy swig of it.
"I can be your friend Alex," Michael offered.
Alexandra almost gagged, "Where the hell did that come from?"
"Someone pointed out that I push you rather hard," Michael replied.
Alexandra took a deep breath, "You're intentions are good, and when my temper cools, I usually see that."
"Sometimes, I forget that you're here less than two years," Michael told her.
Alexandra grinned, "I guess I can take that as a complement."
Michael actually smiled at her, "Can I ask how Kristie is doing without you getting pissed at me?"
Alexandra laughed, "Yes - she's coping. She's questioning herself a little . . .and the weirdest thing is, she's more comfortable talking to Darren about it than me."
Michael nodded, "He's a man - she feels she views sex the same way men do. Does that bother you?"
"That she's more comfortable talking to Darren? No. Kristie is . . . loyal, for lack of a better way to describe it. I worry about their friendship as much as I do you're and hers - believe it or not. At least when I'm thinking with a clear head," Alexandra told him, "I . . . I just realized what a hot head I must sound like."
"You just say exactly what the rest of us are usually thinking Alex," Michael answered, "It's not always at the appropriate time, but . . ."
Alexandra laughed, and they felt the limousine pull up. The door was opened, and Michael got first, then he held out his hand for Alexandra, stepping into their roles. As he walked her in with an arm around her waist, playing the role, Alexandra thought to herself that they'd just had an actual conversation. She wasn't sure they'd ever had an actual conversation, when they weren't sniping at each other - or rather, when she wasn't. Of course, this was Michael. He could drive a saint to lose their temper.
"Nik - . . . Alex and I are on sight," Michael corrected himself.
Alexandra stifled a chuckle. She'd have to tell Nikita about that. It would be the perfect way to mend any slightly tattered fences.
They walked through the front doors of the club, and Alexandra's gaze swept over the dim room with lasers and spot lights making the dance floor glitter. Suddenly, a few more memories slammed into her, and she miss-stepped.
Michael looked at her, "Are you OK?"
She blinked, and looked at him. They weren't being monitored, she could tell him, couldn't she?
"I just remembered something I wish I didn't remember is all," she told him, "I'm fine."
Michael's fingers tightened on her waist - it was meant to be a reassuring gesture. Alexandra took it as such, and forced herself to focus on the mission. Michael took them to a table, and a waiter arrived. Michael ordered two glasses of red wine for him.
They sat there, facing each other. Michael had a hold of her hand, slowly massaging the palm with his fingers, in keeping with the role. Both of them tracked the crowd around them. As Alexandra scanned the room, she saw something that caught her attention . . . money being passed, something being passed back . . .
The hunger she'd become so intimately familiar with during the height of her addiction slammed back into her, and she almost groaned out loud. But she forced herself to remain calm. Her eye's left the exchange, tracking back across the room. They passed over Michael, and she found him watching her. Alexandra suddenly knew that he knew what was going on in her head at that moment.
"Did you bring me on this mission, on purpose?" she asked him quietly.
"To get your feet wet again," Michael told her, "No other reason. It's a relatively . . . controlled . . . situation."
She nodded, and felt him switch to her other hand.
"Take a deep breath Rouge," Michael said, using her pet name in French, "You're OK."
She nodded, "I'm not going back there, ever."
"He's a broker and buyer for an ultra violent faction of the IRA," Operations continued with the briefing.
Nikita only had time to think about the fact that Alexandra had been pushed into her old role for about 5 minutes. A briefing had been called. She, Darren, and several other operatives were being sent to London. They were posing as arms dealers. Their target was a buyer for a faction of the IRA. Section wanted to get a hold of some of the key players - because they'd been seen with some members of Red Cell . . .a terrorist organization that just would not die.
Within an hour, Walter had outfitted them, and they were on a plane for London. That was where they were scheduled to meet with their target. She and Darren were the arms dealers, the other's were hired hands, and surveillance. The people they were pretending to be were involved. Nikita sighed. Time changed everything. She knew she was going to find herself partnered with Darren a lot. Not that Darren was not a good partner - but he wasn't Michael. She didn't have that mental link with him that allowed her to know exactly what he was gonna do, nor could he read her as well. She and Michael could almost not talk through an entire mission if they had to.
"Guess I really can't get Jealous now, can I?" Darren commented, getting comfortable with a blanket and pillow on the plane.
Nikita laughed, "I don't know why it ever crossed my mind. Not with Alex . . ."
Darren laughed with her, "She'd probably cut his throat. She all but physically attacked him once - when we all came back from that mission where you got shot in the leg - and he stopped to talk to Kristie first."
"He has to be careful how he acts with me, with an audience," Nikita reminded him, "And she was brand spanking new - still is really."
Darren yawned, "She's gonna do well - if she ever learns to hold her sharp tongue - but I thought that about Alex more than once."
Nikita grinned, that was me - a few years ago.
"Do you know anything about this Tyler guy she's working with?" Darren asked Nikita.
Nikita shook her head, "Not a lot. I know he's a valentine - and he's ruthless. He trains the problem candidates the ones that are just . . . too cocky really."
Darren laughed. That was Kristie.
"How do they do, after he's done with them?" Darren asked her.
Nikita bit her lip, "Mixed. Sink or swim . . . I was under the impression Kristie was handling it well."
Darren sighed, "I think so, it seems so . . . she's learning apparently - though I wouldn't personally know . . .and she's picking up on personality traits too. She described him as cold and calculating under the surface charm."
Nikita looked over at him, "You really care about her, don't you?"
Darren laughed, "She's a good friend Nikita - like you."
"That say's volumes," Nikita told him, "As in: yeah we're pals, I can talk to her about anything, but she's not Alex."
"No one is Alex!" Darren groaned, "Thank god! I want to drag Alex away and keep her all to myself, and strangle her at the same time. I must be deviant or something."
"So what's the deal with you two lately," Nikita asked him.
Darren looked over at the blonde, the woman who was his mentor, whom he'd trust with his life . . . should he tell her?
"Off the record?" Darren asked her.
Nikita laughed, "Isn't it always?"
"We're fine," Darren whispered, "We're faking the whole jealousy fighting thing. I do want to hang a hands off sign on her, but she and I are OK."
Nikita's jaw almost dropped open, "You had me completely fooled! This is too funny!"
Darren groaned, "It's killing me. It hasn't been funny at all. It scares me, how much ammunition we can come up with so easily."
"You're gonna die laughing when you hear this . . . Michael and I are pulling the same stunt."
Darren's mouth did fall open, "No way."
"Yes way," Nikita told him, "It was my idea. He's not liking it to much, but he's playing along."
Darren rolled his eye's, "That is just a little too weird Nikita - the whole idea that we are running the same scam!"
"Lets hope it works," Nikita told him, "Keep Michael in the dark, that you know."
Darren nodded, "Deal."
The mission had been a success. Alex managed to drop the clear, colorless, odorless liquid into their targets drink - which was a harmless isotope that would allow Section to track him for the next six weeks. The target came alone, and left alone. No problems at all.
The team debriefed quickly, Michael stayed to go over some upcoming missions with Birkhoff. Just as he was about to leave, he was summoned to Madeline's office. Michael suspected she wanted an assessment of Alexandra's performance without the redhead in attendance.
Madeline was sitting behind her desk when Michael walked into her office.
"I sent Alexandra back to her apartment," Madeline told him plainly, "I had her things packed and moved while you were out of town on your mission."
Michael felt his stomach twist. Alex had been feeling the need and hunger for cocaine most of the mission, but she'd handled it well. Michael had no intention of sending her out by herself so early. Not after she'd reacted to being in the club that way.
"She hasn't completed her last profile," Michael replied evenly.
"I evaluated her while you were going through the impending missions with Birkhoff. I'd say she was more than ready," Madeline told him, "The reports of her physical strength are low, but within parameters. There's nothing to suggest she's not reverting to old habits. She'll bring herself up to her previous status and more on her own time in the next few weeks."
Michael nodded, "Is her address on file?"
"It's waiting in your pending email," Madeline replied.
Michael turned to leave. He'd made it to the door when Madeline asked her last question.
"Michael," she said gently, "How much longer would you have waited?"
"Until tomorrow," Michael replied, and left her office. At least two more weeks, he said in his mind.
He went to his office, finished his reports, and pulled her address up out of his emails. He would stop by on his way home.
Kristie stood in the middle of the loft style apartment, "I like it . . . I wonder what possessed Madeline to give you a loft though?"
Alexandra grinned, "Because before - I had photographs up everywhere - all the walls were covered - you couldn't see the paint anywhere except the bathroom. Those racks over against that wall are for photographs. Months ago she pushed me to learn how to use some software to alter photographs. Section wants to take full advantage of my hobby."
Kristie shook her head, "Well, where do you want your stuff - we can push the furniture into place."
Alexandra shrugged, "I just wanted company - not a work horse Kristie."
Kristie laughed, "I know - but I'm here - and I need to work off some tension - c'mon - where do you want your sofa?"
They arranged the furniture so that her bed was in one corner, jutting straight out. The TV and stereo on an opposite wall so the sofa, easy chair and bed all had a clear view. The kitchen table went near the kitchenette, and the computer system with the scanner, printer and all the things that went with it were in another corner all by themselves. They were just starting to unpack the kitchen items when the pizza arrived, and Michael about ten steps behind the pizza.
"Michael," Alexandra was surprised, but she knew she shouldn't be. He was checking on her. She knew he wouldn't have sent her out to an apartment after she'd reacted to strongly to the readily available cocaine in the club.
Michael looked over at Kristie, then back at Alexandra, "I wanted to check on you - see what you thought of your apartment."
Alexandra nodded, "I like it - stay - have some pizza."
Michael was about to refuse, but Kristie moved quickly. She was yanking at his jacket before Michael had a chance to protest, and Alexandra pulled a slice out and set it on a paper plate, and popped open a can of soda for him.
They weren't going to let him refuse.
"Kristie," Tyler's voice called out just as he walked out of Madeline's office.
Both Alexandra and Kristie stopped. Alexandra watched her friends calm, relaxed expression become tense, annoyed.
"Tyler," Kristie said calmly, "What can I do for you?"
Tyler looked her over, so intently that both women could feel his gaze.
"Is there another mission Section wants me to go on that involves you?" Kristie asked him calmly.
"No," he said, "But you're evening is scheduled for more training time. I'll pick you up at 7. The dress code is black tie."
He left them standing in the middle of the main floor.
"I don't like him Kristie. My gut tells me he's bad news," Alexandra told her.
"Well," Kristie said, "He's good in the sack - if you like the type, and he's manipulative and cold under the surface charm. He doesn't trust anyone - but I think I'm making headway."
Alexandra looked at her friend, "If you like the type? Either he's good or he's not? Right?"
Kristie sighed, "He likes to be in total control - that's not my thing - but it's probably what he's been told to teach me too."
"What are you making head way with?" Alexandra asked her.
"I'm starting to get him to open up a little," Kristie told her.
Alexandra took a deep breath, "Kristie - He is a valentine op - remember that it's his job to fuck with your head. Be careful."
Kristie shrugged, "I'm fine - I know damn good and well my training is all but finished - he's looking for ways to keep it going."
It was a dream, and she knew it. It was something about the way things sounded, the way they looked. Maybe because it was Stephen that was taking her up to the hotel room, and not Tyler. Kristie wondered what he'd be like, this time.
She looked over at Stephen. He was dressed in tight jeans, the cotton oxford unbuttoned to mid chest.
"So how are your lesson's with Tyler going?" he asked suddenly.
Shit, this is gonna be a nightmare, isn't it? Kristie thought to herself.
She groaned, "I don't like something about him - something makes me feel like I can't trust him."
Stephen laughed, "That's because you know he's a valentine op Kristie - and you know you can't trust him. Are you learning anything from him?"
Kristie frowned, "This is kind of an odd thing to talk about - what the hell are we doing up here anyhow?"
Another voice got her attention then - Tyler's.
Kristie spun around, "What are you doing here?!"
"Training you," Tyler said, walking slowly towards her from bathroom. He had on tight jeans as well, unbuttoned, no shirt, nothing else.
Kristie looked from Stephen to Tyler, and back to Stephen, "What is this, get even with Kristie day?"
Stephen and Tyler both laughed. Kristie feverently wished Michael would come through the door to rescue her - then decided no. With her luck, in this crazy dream - he'd probably want a piece of her too, and then she'd really have a hard time looking Nikita in the eye tomorrow . . .
Stephen gently pushed her back onto the bed, so she sat on the side of it. He knelt down in front of her, pushing her knee's apart, and his hand slid up her thigh. She felt his finger trace the cleft of her now moist flesh through her panties, pressing firmly.
Then, he pulled her panties aside, just a little, and parted her with his slightly roughened finger tip, with nothing between them.
She felt the bed give a little just behind her, and Tyler's hands reached around her from behind, starting to unbutton her blouse slowly, his fingers brushing her flesh as he went. Finally reaching the last button, he pulled the blouse back off of her.
"No bra Kristie?" Tyler whispered in her ear, "Do you know that when you walk, I can see your tits bounce with each step, your nipples making peaks in your top?"
Kristie laughed, surprised at herself somehow, "That's the idea, right? To get the attention?"
Tyler pressed her shoulders back down onto the bed, "I'll give you attention . . .
She watched mesmerized as he lowered his mouth over one erect nipple, and started to nip and suckle, using his fingers to pinch and stroke the other breast.
Meanwhile, Stephen started to pull her panties down and off, and shoved her skirt farther up her hips. Kristie felt his fingers part her, rubbing the tender flesh with fingers, almost massaging her there. He stroked over her clit, then pinched it between his fingers, rubbing and stroking. She moaned softly, thinking that while foreplay generally prolonged the orgasm she wanted so bad, sometimes the torment wasn't so bad, especially when she had so many part of her being worked on.
Tyler switched to her other breast, and started to stroke the nipple he's just left behind with his other hand. The only think Kristie could see was his bare chest, and she opened her mouth, and traced her tongue on the flesh in front of her, feeling his muscles tense and bunch. She grinned. She'd get control of this sooner or later . . .
But then Stephen changed what he was doing.
His mouth suddenly replaced his fingers, and Kristie moaned loudly at the feel of his firm wet tongue lapping up her juices. He quickly moved up to her clit, using his tongue to trace circles around it to torment her, then he'd flatten his tongue, and stroke right over the top of it, then start all over a again. Just when she thought she couldn't take much more, she felt something else.
Stephen slid his index and middle finger inside her now sensitive sheath, thrusting into her as his tongue worked around her sensitive clit.
He first orgasm crashed over her, and she cried out in surprise and desperation, she didn't want this to be over . . .
It wasn't.
"She's came," she heard Stephen tell Tyler, "I'm not done yet, are you?"
"I'm never done," Tyler informed him, and pulled her farther back onto the bed.
Stephen climbed up after her, now suddenly naked, his thick cock jutting out from between his thighs. Kristie felt herself salivate, and she liked her lips, "C'mon!" she urged him.
Stephen and Tyler laughed at her, "Oh now, you're going to take this slow, just like I taught you . . ."
Stephen pulled her legs up around his hips, and rubbed the tip of his cock between her labia, stroking her now painfully sensitive clit with the head, pressing the folds of sensitive flesh, with it. He came to her entrance, and slid inside, but just a little, then pulled back out, then pushed in again, but just a little.
Kristie tried to pushed her hips up, eager to take more of him inside her.
"She's got too much freedom here," Stephen said, still just giving her his tip, "Tie her hands."
Kristie opened her mouth to protest, but it was too late. Tyler seized her wrists, and tied the to the headboard. The he climbed over her on his hands and knee's, his thick hard cock dangling over her mouth.
His hands grasped her hips holding her down, "This should stop her."
"Oh you think so?" Kristie snapped and stretched her neck up, and flicked her tongue over the tip of Tyler's cock.
"Give it to her," Stephen urged him, sinking a little more of his own thickness into her.
Kristie fought herself to stay in control, feeling Tyler lower himself into her mouth, while Stephen sank deeper and deeper inside her. Each stroke finding more and more of her flesh, deeper inside her.
Finally, she felt Stephen's thrusts start to change, and she felt him buried deep deep inside her, almost painfully so. She fought herself to stay in control, grazing her teeth over Tyler's cock, using her tongue to stroke him, but she was loosing the battle. The heat inside her built up, coiled tightly, Stephen's strokes continued on and on, and then her whole world shattered into a thousand pieces, pleasure overwhelming her.
She opened her eye's, and she was no longer in the hotel room. She was in that cabin, in the mountains, where she and Michael had hid that night . . .
She heard something behind her, and turned, unmindful of her state of undress, and found Michael walking in, wearing leather pants, a leather vest over a bare chest. His hair was tousled.
"Are you OK?" he asked her, his eye's traveling up and down her naked body, "I know you don't like it they way they do."
Kristie blinked, Michael knew?
"Yeah," she told him, "It doesn't hurt you know."
Michael laughed, walking towards her, "But it's not what you like . . ."
Kristie felt her stomach muscles bunch up, oh god, no . . . yes . . .
"Not . . . really."
Suddenly, Michael grabbed her, and shoved her back onto the sofa, kneeling down before her. She watched in rapt attention as he unfastened his pants, and his thick swollen cock sprang forward. He shoved her thighs apart, and buried himself inside her deeply, in one swift movement.
"Oh my god," she gasped out.
Michael chuckled, "This is how you like it . . .!"
She gasped out, "yes!" and felt Michael slam into her again, and again, and again. He leaned over her, his mouth moving on hers, kissing her hungrily, as if drawing her pleasure out of her so he could taste it.
He thrust harder and harder, faster and faster, his hands gripping her hips for leverage. His mouth left hers to move to her neck, and she felt his teeth bite into her shoulder as her body exploded again, her world going dark . . . .
Then, she was in the hotel room again, wrapped up in a blanket.
What the hell is gonna happen now? She wondered.
As if to answer her, she heard another voice.
"I'm here to evaluate your performance," Operations said, appearing in the doorway.
"NO!!!!!!!!!!" Kristie screamed.
Suddenly, she was in her quarters in Section One. She sat up, and found herself dressed in a tank top and sweat pants. Her door opened, Darren peered in at her. A moment later, Alexandra appeared on the other side of the door frame.
"Are you OK?" Darren asked her.
"Jesus Christ! Tell me I really am awake!"
Alexandra laughed at her, "Yeah, you are - did you have a nightmare?"
Kristie took a deep breath, "I . . . it was about to become one."
Alexandra looked over at Darren in the hallway after he'd closed the door to Kristie's quarters, "Must have been a doozy. When did you get back?"
Darren nodded, "An hour ago . . . I hear you're not on closed quarters anymore."
Alexandra nodded, glancing up and down the hall, "I emailed you my address."
Darren smiled a little, "Maybe I should come visit you sometime soon."
Alexandra grinned up at him, unable to resist touching something of him. She reached up, and wound some of his hair around her fingers, "I'm thinking that you should come over real soon - like maybe tonight or something."
Darren grinned, "Now watch us get called out on missions or something like that."
Alexandra groaned, "That would just be my luck - you know - you're gonna hear that Ryan came over to my house - He's a level 4 - he can get some information - just so you know - he had a beer and I sent him packing."
Darren nodded, and took a steadying breath, "Alex - I don't doubt how you feel about me - I just hate the fact that I can't be so open - that I can't be as possessive of you openly as I feel inside."
Alexandra chewed her lip, "Well, he'll probably brag - I just wanted to warn you."
Darren nodded, "Thank you. Hey - how is she handling that Tyler guy - I'm kinda getting worried about her."
Alexandra took a deep breath, "I . . . think she's getting in over her head - but she has plans of her own. She's bent on getting into his head. You know Kristie - she's like a dog with a bone when she sets her mind to something."
Hours later . . .
" I like it," Darren said, sliding his arms around her waist from behind, and pulling her back against his chest, "It's definitely you."
Alexandra knew he just wanted to hold her, be with her. She relaxed back into his chest, and laughed a little, "I'm almost afraid to ask why you think so!"
"It's looks open - but at the same time - it can be closed off when you need it to be. There's plenty of room for your hobbies - very little restrictions . . . ."
The doorbell rang, and they both groaned.
Alexandra pulled away from Darren, and looked through the peep hole. She opened the door, and Darren watched her admit Walter and Birkhoff.
"Hey Red!" Walter greeted her, "I bring gifts of Thai food - I thought you'd like some company . . . . but I see you have some company already."
"The more the merrier," Alexandra told him, "C'mon in, Please! Welcome to Casa de Alex."
Kristie knew something was up when they pulled up in front of the club. Tyler kept his distance from her it seemed.
"You said I could trust you," Tyler began.
Kristie almost choked on her drink. That was not what she expected to hear from Tyler at all, "yeah, you can."
Tyler took a deep breath, "A friend - from before I was in Section - He's over there at that forth table in - black hair, gold earring, see him?"
Kristie turned to look, and spotted him. He was at the table with another man. "Go on," Kristie urged Tyler.
"Section is planning on tagging him to get to someone he knows - he doesn't even know the man is dirty. He'll be disposed of afterwards," Tyler told her.
Kristie looked up at him, "What are you asking me Tyler?"
"I just wanted you to see him - He's a good man Kristie - He doesn't deserve what he's gonna get. I'm hoping maybe you can find a way to warn him - without being obvious."
Kristie took a deep breath, "I . . . I need to look at the mission profile first - see where Section is watching him."
Tyler nodded, and pulled her into his arms, pressing his mouth to hers, kissing her hungrily, dominatingly, "Thank you . . ." he breathed out between kisses.
They were being decidedly cold to each other, Birkhoff noticed when both Michael and Nikita were at the comm station at the same time.
They were both picking up profiles at the same time. Kristie was sitting at one PC, watching the two of them. Alexandra working on sim at another station, and Darren was looking over one of the tech's shoulders as he showed Darren how the decrypt program worked.
"Nikita," Alexandra said looking up, "I'm out on my own again. You have to swing by and check out my new place."
Nikita looked over at the redhead, "That was fast!"
"I'm back up at minimums, I keep getting better and better," Alexandra told her.
Nikita looked at Michael, "I heard you requested her for that last mission too."
Michael drew in a deep breath, "Yes. She did well."
Nikita's gaze stayed on Michael, "I can see Madeline pushing her out the door early - but not you . . ."
Michael looked back over at Nikita, "She isn't your material anymore."
Everyone was very tense, and very quiet, waiting with bated breath. It was Alexandra who spoke next.
"Hey guys, I'm doing fine - you know I hit the ground running," Alexandra said, trying to smooth things over.
Nikita walked around Michael and walked over to where Alexandra was sitting, and patted her shoulder, "And I know you push yourself so hard until you damn near break. Some people need to remember that we're all human."
Nikita turned and walked away.
Ryan had just walked up, looking around at everyone for an explanation. No one said anything.
"Hey Darren, you seen Alexandra's new pad yet?" Ryan asked him.
The tension mounted ten fold. Birkhoff actually started to chew his lip. Kristie sat forward, prepared to spring between the two of them if fists started to fly.
"Not yet," Darren replied calmly, and looked over at Alexandra, "I just heard about it all of 30 seconds ago."
"OH," Ryan said, "Well - it's a cool place - nice view of the city. I'm thinking that the sunrises are gonna be gorgeous from out her window."
"Sunrises," Darren said calmly, "You like sunrises Ryan?"
"Love them," Ryan said, obviously amused.
Alexandra stood up, "Kristie - what is it that you call these displays? Dick measuring contests? Why don't the two of you just wip them out right here and now and I'll get a tape measure?"
Kristie let out a sigh of relief. Alexandra had effectively shut them both down, there would be no fighting at this time.
"Ladies, gentlemen," Alexandra said, looking around at everyone, and then her gaze swept from Darren to Ryan, "And little boys - I'm going home - alone."
Ryan walked away in one direction, Darren shook his head, and turned back to his lesson. Kristie looked down at her own screen. She was trying to find the best way to get to Tyler's friend. He wasn't being watched much. She accessed the surveillance files, to see what kind of involvement the man did have with Sections end target.
Tyler had told her the man was innocent. What Kristie was seeing in the reports conflicted with that. She decided she'd have to do a little surveillance on her own.
She disguised herself, so no one watching would recognize her. She talked Walter out of the bug and comm link to listen in on, and made her way across town. She was waiting outside of his friend's apartment, and spent a good part of the day following him. He stopped for a late lunch, and sat down at booth in a busy cafe. Kristie walked by, and accidentally stumbled into the table, and planted the bug. She apologized, and kept going to where the waiter had been leading her too. While she sat and ate her sandwich, and listened for anything from Tyler's friend, she saw Tyler walk in, and sit down with his friend. The same friend he supposedly couldn't have any contact with.
"Tyler," the friend asked, "So when is this nice little piece gonna come warn me?"
Tyler laughed, "She'll probably contact you tonight. The phony profile shows a good window this evening. I got this one so far gone - and she's gone of those cocky self controlled types. I love this shit."
Kristie almost choked on her sandwich.
"Are we turning this into Madeline or do I get to have some fun with her first?" The friend asked.
Tyler laughed again, "Oh Madeline knows about the play - but we can probably arrange for you to take a crack at Kristie - I'm not selfish, I'll share her."
Kristie lost her appetite, and set her sandwich down. She felt her stomach twist into knots. She'd been played . . . and she'd fallen for it . . .
She heard them laughing at her, listened to Tyler describe to his friend what she was like in bed, and her temper mounted ten fold. She slapped ten bucks down on the table, stood up, grabbed a pitcher of water up from the wait staff's area and walked over to their table.
Both of them looked up at her. Kristie pulled the bug off the table, and yanked off her wig. Both Tyler and his friend were genuinely surprised.
She threw the water at them, managing to get both of them, and jumped out of reach quickly. The entire cafe stopped and watched in shock.
"Tyler - your evaluation is totally off - I have to be with someone else in my head to come. And I wouldn't have touched you or your friend if I wasn't under orders, and I sure as hell wouldn't now!"
Kristie strode out of the cafe, and sped back to Section One.
The door to Madeline's office opened, and Kristie walked in. Stephen sat in a chair in front of Madeline's desk.
Kristie threw the bug down on Madeline's desk, "I decided to investigate this guy you and Tyler were setting me up to warn. Next time you're gonna try to set me up to look like a fool - try to remember that I do have half brain? You might find the conversation recorded on that interesting Madeline."
Kristie turned and walked out of Madeline's office. Madeline watched her go.
"What was all that about?" Stephen asked Madeline.
Madeline took a deep breath, "Kristie's final lesson, was to demonstrate that anyone, that even she could be played. Tyler felt she was sufficiently enamored of him. He was apparently wrong."
The next day . . .
Kristie saw Alexandra's expression darken slightly. Darren was busy spotting Kristie. Kristie was doing bench presses.
"Alex?" Kristie gasped out, "What?"
Darren looked at Alex, then followed her gaze. Kristie was just finishing, and Darren caught the bar, helping her wrack it as she pushed it up for the last time.
"There she is! Hey Kristie - think you could take on two of us at the same time?" Tyler's 'friend' asked, as he and Tyler walked up.
Stephen was on a nautilus machine a few feet away, and stopped what he was doing. He stayed calm, but tense.
Kristie flushed red, "You just don't get it, do you?"
"Oh I'd love to get it again," Tyler quipped back.
"Kristie, don't listen to these losers. No meat on them, no stamina. They posture their man hood around 'cause they're so insecure because all they are is a piece of ass - and from what you've told me, not a very good one."
"Big words coming from Section's busiest whore," Tyler turned his sharp tongue on Alexandra, "Did it ever occur to you why Section keeps you around with all the accidents you seem to have? It isn't because your such a great cold op! Now you're gonna have competition for being Section's whore of choice!"
"You fucking bastard!" Alexandra hissed, and shoved pasted Darren.
Darren reacted just in time, grabbing Alexandra around the waist, yanking her back.
"Alex!" Darren yelled in her ear, "He's not worth it!"
Stephen was up and off the nautilus machine then, and he stepped right in front of Tyler, their faces inches apart, "What don't you understand Tyler? She's turning you down. She didn't fall for your play. She's smarter than that. Do you think insulting her and her friends is gonna win her back over? Are you that stupid?"
The entire gym seemed to poised, waiting, watching.
The door opened, and Michael walked in, dressed for his work out. He saw Kristie sitting on the bench, looking stricken, Darren holding Alexandra back, despite her struggling to get away from him, and Stephen nose to nose with Tyler.
"She certainly made short work of you, didn't she?" Tyler shot back, "Does she make you wear a leash?"
Stephen laughed, and it sounded dangerous to everyone's ears. Kristie held her breath. Alexandra struggled harder.
Michael stepped up next to Stephen, and made a show of looking around at the small group of them, "Tyler - you have five cold ops ready to tear you into small pieces if Stephen says the word go. Back off or you'll spend a month in medlab healing - then I'll personally make sure you're next assignment will be in Bosnia, your target will be a violent, frustrated army officer."
"Back down man," Tyler's 'friend' said, "I'm not willing to take on Stephen or Michael alone, let alone together or with these three."
Tyler stepped back, "Another time Kristie."
"I doubt that," Kristie said calmly, hoping she didn't sound as defeated as she felt.
"God damn his soul to hell!" Kristie screamed to the rafters of her apartment, knowing full well that it was most likely bugged, and that Section was probably watching her.
She'd felt wretched. She wanted to rip Tyler's throat out and feed his carcass to the rats in the alley outside. She wanted to see him drawn and quartered. Most of all, she wished she could go back about six years, and do things differently - different enough that she'd never have met Michael, because she'd never be in Section One then. She'd never have almost been tricked into betraying Section. She'd rather slice her own wrists open, than be the cause of hurting Darren, Alex, Nikita, Michael or Stephen - and it would have been them that would have gone after the target - if the target had been real.
She thought she'd slowly been working Tyler, getting information out of him. After the nasty scene in the cafe, she'd thrown a fit in Madeline's office, and left Section One for the evening. She gone in this morning, prepared to put the whole thing behind her.
But that wasn't going to happen so easily.
To add insult to injury, Tyler and his 'friend' were in Section One today, and propositioned her in front of Stephen, Darren and Alex, in the gym. Kristie had been training with Alexandra and Darren. Tyler asked her if she thought she could handle taking on two of them.
Stephen remained calm, didn't react. Kristie hadn't been so calm. Her mouth fell open, her face flushing red.
It was Alex that came to her rescue first. She'd looked them over and told Kristie not to waist her time. They looked like they'd be finished to fast. No meat to them, probably no stamina. That was how the argument started. Insults started to fly. People turned to stare. Darren had to hold Alexandra back, Michael had just walked in and stepped up next to Stephen, making a very effective show of force - and that he'd be helping Stephen pound Tyler into the concrete.
A knock at her door broke her from her reverie of today's sordid events. She looked through the peep hole, and groaned. Stephen.
She yanked open the door, "Come to see if you can get a nice rough fuck too?"
Stephen stood there, a six pack of beer in one hand, the other balancing a pizza box, "Uh, No, I actually thought you'd like company from a friend - and I've heard a good bitch session over pizza and beer makes any situation better."
Kristie closed her eye's, "I'm sorry . . . Christ, I never thought I'd say I was sorry . . . come in."
She stood back, and let him walk in, and closed the door behind him.
Stephen walked into the living room, set the pizza down with two beers, and put the other four in the refrigerator.
Kristie walked over and sat down on the end of the sofa, sitting her feet tucked under her, and watched him.
"Relax Kristie - almost everyone in Section wants to kick his ass. Alex was gonna lay in wait for them in the hall, but Darren and Michael stopped her. Nikita's arranging for them to be served Ex lax with their next weeks worth of meals. Even Madeline yanked his chain," Stephen told her, opening up her bottle and handing it to her, then a slice of pizza.
"Why are you here?" Kristie asked him, taking a gulp of beer, "I know you were planning on using me to hurt Michael - but I'm not gonna let that happen. I'm tired of being used."
Stephen sighed, "I'm not here to seduce you, measure the damage, or anything Section related. Hell, I even managed to cancel surveillance for the night. I'm trying real hard the be the friend that I was becoming a month ago before all this started."
Kristie watched him, waiting to see some kind of hint that he was playing her. She started nibbling at her pizza, and sipped more of her beer.
"I almost sent a pizza and beer to Darren and Alex - those two just hate each other lately, today's fiasco was the first time they haven't been at each other's throats," Stephen said, "And freaken Ryan . . . he's asking for it. The bastard is my material too. He's in serious need of attitude adjustment."
Kristie looked over at him, was he trying to trick her?
"Darren's jealous, Ryan's interfering with their friendship," Kristie commented.
Stephen sighed, "I never ever thought I'd say this. But I envy that 'Friendship' - the one I see between Alex and Darren, and Michael and Nikita. It's like they can damn near read their partners minds. I've seen them paired together on missions, and with other people, and while they are always good, you can see a difference when they're not together. The pisser is that Section isn't so kind to 'frienships' like they have - but they manage to make it work - most of the time. As much as I . . . . dislike . . . . Michael, I have to admit I envy him sometimes - not Nikita, but what they have."
"Hm," Kristie said, and reached for another slice.
Stephen looked over at her, "You think I'm trying to pic your brain."
Kristie raised an eyebrow at him, as if to ask are you?
"I've known about them since I came back to the main station. I researched Alex and Darren because they spent so much time with you, and you were my greenest recruit," Stephen told her, "She has got to have the worst luck of anyone I have ever met."
Kristie had to laugh. She'd thought that herself at least a hundred times.
"OK, I'll be nice," Kristie said, "Get me another beer."
Hours later . . .
Kristie tripped and almost fell over her own sneakers. It was two am, they'd been up watching a late movie, drinking and eating pizza all night. Stephen caught her before she fell, and they both laughed.
"I think it's nap time for someone," Stephen chuckled, scooping her up, and carrying her towards her bedroom.
Kristie felt her stomach turn over, anticipation welling up inside her. She looped her arm around his neck and slid her fingers into his hair as he carried her.
Stephen set her down on the bed, and pulled the blankets up over her, and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead, "Sleep well Kristie."
He stood up, and started towards the door.
"You're not staying?" Kristie asked, sitting up.
Stephen turned to look at her from the doorway, "I didn't come here to seduce you, fuck you, or anything other than as your friend Kristie."
"What is it? You wanted me before? Because Tyler had me - you don't want me now?!" she demanded.
"Jesus Christ!" Stephen sighed, and walked back over, and sat on the side of her bed, "I can't look at you and not remember the . . . brief . . . encounter we had. And while I'd rather you hadn't spent time with Tyler under orders, it doesn't mean I still don't think about being with you. But after what just happened - I don't want you to think I'm just like him."
Kristie drew in a ragged breath, and leaned forward, her mouth brushing his. Stephen kissed her back, hungrily, jamming his fingers into her hair, finally indulging into what he'd been thinking of all night . . .
"What do I have to do to convince you to stay with me tonight?" Kristie asked him between kisses, "Just tell me what you want . . ."
Stephen felt her heart being ripped out of his chest. It hurt him, to know that she would now always measure all men by sections methods and standards.
Stephen broke the kiss, and cupped her face in his hands, "Kristie, I wish to god I'd been here, so you'd never have to think of men the way you do now . . ."
He pulled his shirt off, and jeans, leaving on just his boxers, and reached for her T-shirt, then her jeans and panties, and he pulled her to the center of her bed, "You tell me, how you like to be touched . . ."
"Just don't hold me down," she said softly.
Anger twisted inside Stephen's gut, dear god, what did Tyler do to her . . .
Stephen moved down between her thighs, and slid his hand up under her buttocks, so she wouldn't feel like she was being held down, and parted her already wet nether lips with his tongue, tasting her, stroking her carefully, measuring her reactions. He worked her clit with swift deft stroked, then suckled it.
He felt her hands in his hair, pressing him deeper inside her, and he kept stroking with his tongue, tasting her juices, enjoying the scent of aroused woman. He slid his finger inside her, and started to stroke, until he felt her body spasm under him.
Slowly, he sat back and gathered her in his arms, easing her onto his swollen rock hard shaft, sitting so they faced each other.
"I want to be on top," Kristie told him, pushing him back down.
Stephen wasn't going to argue with her. He lay back, his hands reaching up to stroke and caress while she rocked back and forth, sheathing and unsheathing him inside her. He reached up, cupping her breast, gently tweaking her nipples, just enough to entice but not be considered rough. He fought himself not to come, intent on waiting for her. He wouldn't have long to wait. He felt her pace change, her body spasmed around him, and he let his own release come, and he moaned out loud. She collapsed on his chest, with him still sheathed inside her, and Stephen wrapped his arms around her, kissing her face, her neck, enjoying the taste of her skin, salty and wet . . .
His hands stroking her back. His mouth traveled to hers, and he kissed her gently, savoring, tasting.
"Stephen," she whispered, her voice drowsy, "Promise me you'll never go down on me - when it's for section or a mission. Just when it's really you and me."
"I promise," he whispered, stroking her hair. Warning bells were going off in the back of his head. He was on very dangerous ground.
But he didn't care. He wanted to be there, with Kristie.
Continue on to Mind Games