Warning: This story contains a scene depicting violent sex scene.

While you were on your honeymoon . . .

By Kimberly with lots of assistance from One Lobo

       It was dark. She knew she was dreaming, but somehow, she knew she'd have to see the dream through. She was back in Washington, in one of her favorite old haunts - club Broadway. She walked up to the bar, but the bartender didn't know her. She had to wait for her drink. She didn't have to wait before. Before, they made it the moment they saw her. She finally got her drink, and looked around for her friends. They were at a table, but her seat wasn't there, there were no open spaces. No one recognized her. She knew she couldn't dance, because her hip hurt. She didn't have her cane, and she knew she was supposed to be using it, but . . .

       Tony gently shook Kim, to wake her up. He'd heard her say something about her cane, mumble something about a drink, and then say something about her seat at a table. She was dreaming, and she seemed to be getting more and more upset.

       "Hey, come on baby," Tony shook her again, "Kim, open your eyes for me."

       Kim's eyes flew open, and she gasped for air. It was Tony's face in front of her, not one of her old club friends.

       "Tony?" she whispered, "I . . . I was home again - at the Broadway club . . . and no one knew me, and I couldn't dance because of my hip - and my hip is really really killing me!"

       Tony disentangled his arms from around her, and pulled back the blankets, "Front or back?"

        Kim groaned, "The joint, and these muscles here."

       Tony eased her onto her back, and started to kneed the muscles she'd indicated, "I think you worked these babies a little too hard last night."

       They'd danced at the wedding - ever slower dance. Kim spent as much time on the dance floor as she could.

       Kim sighed, "I used to go dancing a few times a week, and I stayed on the dance floor for hours."

       Tony looked up at her face, seeing the resignation in her eyes, the way her lips were pressed together in irritation. Kim was fiercely independent. Tony knew she resented her dependence on the cane a lot. But he also knew she dealt with the situation, and just kept going.

       "I know," Tony said softly, and bent down to press a kiss to the discolored flesh where she'd been shot, had two surgeries, and where someone had cauterized the original wound in the field. He knew all she could feel was the pressure of his lips there, not any moisture, not any other sensation there, but that wasn't important.

        She reached down, and slid her fingers into his hair, "Hey, use that mouth up here."

       Tony grinned, moving over her on his hands and knee's, his mouth just gently brushing hers, "Is this what you want?" He asked her.

       "It's a start," She whispered, tracing her tongue on his lip line.

       He nipped at her lower lip, and then cupped one breast, his fingers tweaking her nipple, "Have I told you today how damn good you look in the nude?"

       Kim laughed a little, watching him look her over, his hungry gaze lingering over her breasts, then traveling down. She knew he saw the scars, but for some reason, to him they were not hideous. She was lucky in having him, and she knew it.

       "Not Today," she murmured, "Tony, come on - I want you inside me, now."

       Tony looked up at her face, her gaze had that heady, longing look to it. There was usually a little more foreplay involved for them, but apparently, this time she didn't want to wait.

       She turned over, getting up to her hands and knees. Tony knew she loved this position because the penetration was deeper.

       He stroked his length along the cleft of her buttocks, teasing her, and pulled back when she pushed back at him. He moved farther down, finding the opening to her most tender sensitive parts, and pushed himself inside her.

       "Oh god Kim . . ." Tony breathed, and bent forward, his hand reaching around  to cup her breasts.

       He moved carefully, thrusting in and out of her, each stroke measured for her pleasure and his. He knew just the angle she liked best, he knew that if he played with her nipples while he stroked into her, it would be that much better for her. He always did that for her.

       Kim trembled inside, enjoying the tight feeling of him thick and hard inside her. Sex between them was so good - she never tired of it, never didn't want it. She knew she'd go a week without sleep and still want it. His hand, just callused enough to provide a little extra sensation on her skin, knew just where to touch her, just where to stroke. She felt her body start to tighten around him even more, clench onto his hard flesh, and he changed his tempo, pushing her over the edge. Kim felt the tight coil inside her bust open, her body spasming, her nerve endings explode. She could barely hold herself up, her bodies reaction had been so severe.

       Nikita felt a little bit of fatigue, but not much - which was amazing, considering the sleep she hadn't had. Her eyes strayed over to Michael, and she found him watching her. Smile crept across her lips. God he was beautiful! And all mine! she thought to herself.

       "You must be tired," Michael said softly, his French  accent making every word sound like a caress. His fingers were enmeshed with hers. They had been since they left the hotel room. Funny, how such a simple thing could seem so intimate . . . and mean so much.

        Now, she felt his thumb brush across the back of her hand. Nikita trembled. How long was this flight going to be? Could she wait that long?

       "Not really," Nikita told him, "I might sleep on the plane."

       Michael's smile actually grew. He hadn't let her relax or doze off last night. He was feeling a little weary himself, but not terribly so. Not yet at least. The excitement was still running strong in their veins. They'd done the impossible. They'd found a way to have a life in Section One.

       "Flight 109 to Atlanta, continuing on to Nassau is now boarding first class."

       "Mrs. Samuelle," Michael said softly, "I think it's time."

       Darren was exhausted. He hadn't slept much - and he'd dreamt of Alexandra. He had to force his mind to the task at hand. He was working his way through the maze that was know as "Data" - a vast mess of computers and people watching for little bits and pieces of Intel.

       The task master of Data barely glanced up as Darren walked in.

       "What?" he asked curtly.

       "I need to clarify something with someone named Beth," Darren told him.

       "Terminal 23," he replied, not bothering to look back to see if she was there, or ask what Darren wanted to know.

       Darren started back through the maze of computers, cables and people. He found terminal 23, and a woman probably his own age, perhaps a few years older. She was petite but full figured, thick shiny dark brown hair, distinctly Hispanic features and a reserved look to her.

       "Beth?" Darren asked.

       She reached for something on the keyboard, shut down her scan, and looked up timidly, "I'm Beth."

       "Hi," Darren smiled at her, "I got some Intel you found - and I just got a few questions about the source."

       He handed her the disk, and she pulled up the file, "Hewlecher . . . I came across an email transmission on a secure channel."

       Darren laughed, "Real secure."

       She nodded, "Yeah well, he thinks it is. What do you want to know."

       "Just how we found out he was working out of the Belgrade. I'm being cautious," he told her.

       She nodded, "I'll pull up the email."

       Darren watched as she pulled up the archived file, it appeared on the screen a moment later. Darren read through it.

       "Are we tracking all the other emails he is sending?" Darren asked her.

       She nodded, "I automatically trap them."

       "Good - keep me posted. The team leaves in half an hour - and if he does anything, I want to know. You know who Kim is upstairs?"

       Beth nodded a little.

       "She'll forward everything to me," Darren told her, "Thanks."

       Michael had handled everything for the honey moon. He'd traveled more than Nikita - and she had her hands full with everything else. She knew they were going to the Bahamas. She had found out somewhere along the line that they were flying first class. She knew they had two weeks. But that was it.

       Michael pushed the arm rest back that separated the seats, and Nikita snuggled into his side. He felt that familiar warm feeling of  'this is how it should be' when she snuggled into him like that. He was so in tune to her, that he felt her breathing change when she drifted off to sleep. Michael was content to watch her, to feel her so close.

       It was a few hours later that they were landing in Atlanta. He gently brushed her hair back from her face and kissed her cheek.

       "Kita," He whispered, "it's time to land my love."

       Nikita raised up her head, blinking at him with sleepy, adoring eyes, eyes that were full of love - for him.

        Is this really real? Michael asked himself, had they managed the impossible?

       "Did you sleep?" she asked him, brushing her lips across his.

       Michael was not about to let her get away with a light kiss. He didn't care who was watching, who could see them. He kissed her back, deepening the kiss, drawing her in, his tongue stroking her lower lip, delving inside, tasting her. His hand slid up her back to her neck, his fingers sliding into her hair.

       After a few moments, he reluctantly broke the kiss.

       "No," he answered, "I'll sleep later."

       Nikita could barely discern his words, her heart was beating so hard and so fast in her chest, the blood rushing through her ears. It was amazing, what this man could do to her.

        A lazy smile spread across her lips, as she caught the elderly couple across the aisle way watching them. Michael caught the drift of her gaze, and turned to look.

       "Newly weds?" the woman asked.

       As she asked, her husband slid his fingers into hers. Michael didn't miss the tender gesture. He instinctively knew that he and Nikita would look like them when they reached their later years - still happy and still in love. That is - if he and Nikita lived that long.

       "Yes," Michael replied, and he dropped his hand down Nikita's back, each movement a caress.

       "How long have you been married?" Nikita asked the elderly couple.

       "43 years," the man answered, "43 Wonderful years."

       There was a limousine waiting for them when they got off the plane in Nassau. Michael handed the driver their baggage tickets, still holding onto Nikita's hand as she slipped inside the limousine, and followed her in.

       "First class on the plane and a limousine?" Nikita sighed playfully, and she climbed over Michael, straddling him, "Ever had sex in a limousine Michael?"

       Michael felt liquid heat rush to the pit of his stomach, his cock hardening when she'd straddled him, and now, hearing her suggestion, he felt like he was going to burst.

       Michael reached between them, and undid his fly, releasing himself in one swift movement. His hand slid under the front of her skirt, pulling her panties aside. She lifted herself up, leveraging with her knee's, then easing herself down on Michael.

       She moaned out loud, "Oh . . ."

       It was then that the limousine driver got into the front drivers compartment. His eyes met Michael's in the mirror, but he said nothing. He just pulled away from the curb. Michael knew the driver knew where their hotel was.

       Michael gripped Nikita's hips, so he could control the thrusts. This was another one of the facets of Nikita's experimentation. Sex where they might be watched, might be discovered . . .

       And Michael was more than willing to accommodate her. He kissed her mouth, nipping at her lower lip, his tongue plundering the sweet recesses of her mouth as he thrust into her.

        Each thrust was deep, each stroke teasing their oh so sensitive nerve endings. Michael's mouth left Nikita's to travel down to her neck, kissing the tender flesh below her ear. She was so tight, hot and wet, and their bodies fit together so well, as if they were made for each other.

       Michael looked down at her blouse as he unbuttoned a few buttons, seeing her nipples hard, making peaks in her blouse. He laid the fabric back, and bent his head down, taking one hard little bud into his mouth, and suckling.

       Nikita moaned again, "Michael . . ."

       He nipped at her, making her buck against him - and she came then and there, much faster than Michael had anticipated. It was too much - and for once - he didn't hold himself back. He let his own orgasm take him, and he moaned into her mouth as he kissed her again, holding her tight against him as their bodies trembled from their mutual release.

       "I love you," Michael said fervently in her ear.

       "I love you," Nikita answered - in French.

       Michael's eyes drifted around them - it was an old habit. The driver had taken them around the promenade again. Michael nodded to him in the Mirror. It was OK to go to the hotel now.

       Nikita discovered that Michael's surprises were far from over. The bell hop lead them to a beach front suite. It had a private patio that was surrounded by stone and tropical shrubbery - providing some privacy. There was a double door sized opening where they could walk out onto the beach. On the deck, there was a hot tub recessed down into the ground, two lounge chairs and a table with and umbrella and chairs.

       The room, was just as luxurious. A king size canopy bed with thin veil netting curtains dominated the bedroom. The sheets were a rich dark red satin, the coverlet a dark charcoal color with white streaks on it - as if patterned after granite. The veil netting was the same dark rich red as the satin sheets.

       A dresser sat across from the bed, it had three drawers on either side, and a chair in front of a lighted mirror. There were bed side tables with ornate brass touch lamps on either side of the bed, and a remote control for a stereo system sat on one of the bed side tables.

       The bathroom was all tile. There were two sinks, and the shower was enormous. Instead of a shower stall or shower curtain, a 10 x 10 area was partially walled off with bottle green glass cubes set like bricks. There were two shower heads facing each other in the shower. Thick rich dark green towels hung on the towel racks.

       There was a sitting room as well, with two over stuffed chairs and a sofa done in shades of khaki - and a glass and wicker coffee table. Across from the sofa and chairs sat an entertainment center, with a home theater system. Speakers had been built into the walls all around the suit. A well stocked wet bar sat against one wall.

       The bell hop had called for someone to come unpack their bags once he'd shown them to their room. A bottle of champagne was sitting in a bucket of ice on the wet bar. Michael tipped the man as he left, and the man promised to be at their beck and call.

       Michael poured two glasses of champagne, and they sat on the deck while their bags were unpacked.

       "I can't believe you did all this," Nikita breathed, wiggling on Michael's lap to torment him.

       Michael replied softly, "It's our honeymoon."

       Nikita sipped her champagne, leaving her lips wet with the liquid, and kissed Michael, so he could taste it on her.

       Kim stretched, balancing herself carefully against a support pole. Her hip still ached. She saw someone approaching her from the corridor, and immediately stood up. It was 2:00 am - Section was usually deserted this time of night, and Kim didn't recognize this person.

       "You're Kim, right?" The Hispanic woman asked.

       "Yes," Kim said, "And you are?"

       "Beth," the woman said, "I'm from down in Data - Darren asked me to forward any email transmissions to him while the mission was going on. He said to give them to you."

       Beth handed Kim a disk.

       Kim pushed a chair out for Beth, slid the disk in, and opened up the file, "Darren? I'm about to send you a file with email transmissions on your target."

       Beth sat quietly and watched as Kim quickly transmitted the file.

        "Pick up the comm unit," Kim told her, "Just in case he has questions."

       Beth picked up the comm unit with trembling fingers. She'd never had to use one of these things, she'd only been shown once. She never came up here.

        "Kim?" Darren's voice came through, "These just came in?"

       "I've got Beth on the channel, she brought them up," Kim told him, and nodded to Beth.

       "Yes," Beth said, "About 5 minutes ago, then he dropped off the channel . . ."

       The mission had gone off without a hitch. Darren was immensely relieved. He needed a good outcome, not only for his career in Section, but for his own mental health. Even Madeline and Operations had seemed pleased. Darren wondered if hell had frozen over.

       But before he left, he had someone to thank. Beth had been up in the middle of the night watching for emails for him - and he hadn't expected her to stay on later. He'd thought she'd pass it off to someone else.

       He walked past the task master in Data and walked back to where Beth sat. He was still glad in his mission gear, and he knew he saw her eyes widen in surprise as he walked up.

       "Thank you, for those emails," Darren told her, "Without them, I might have lost people trying to find him."

       Beth shrugged, "It's my job."

       "You pulled 20 hours because of it," Darren told her, "Can I buy you dinner? To say thank you?"

       Beth looked like she was going to fall off her chair, "Uh . . . yes . . . I guess . . . I uh . . . I have four more hours on."

       "I got plenty of paperwork, and I need to get out of my gear. I'll be up in planning when you're off."

       Kristie dropped down into a chair next to Kim, "You look like you pulled an all nighter."

       Kim yawned in response, stretched, and then grimaced, her hand going to her hip, "Close. I caught  few hours."

       Kristie frowned, "You hurting?"

       Kim nodded, "I spent to much time trying to dance and forget that I need that damn cane. I used to go dancing all the time . . . once."

       Kristie nodded, taking all this in, "Why don't you make an appointment with Physical therapy - they got this one guy down there - David - that man has magic fingers. I'm convinced he can work miracles."

       Just then Beth walked in front of comm, and into planning. Darren pushed a chair out for her, and Beth sat down with him.

       "Who is that?" Kristie asked Kim. After all, as far as Kristie was concerned, Darren still belonged to Alexandra, no matter what the redhead wanted to think at the moment.

       "Beth - from Data. She pulled 20 hours to watch for emails for his last mission," Kim told Kristie, "She's a timid thing. Thought I was gonna have to teach her how to use a comm unit last night."

       Kristie nodded slowly, watching Beth watch Darren.

       "She's almost drooling," Kristie commented, instantly annoyed

       Kim sighed, and looked up at them, "She isn't his type."

       They watched quietly as Darren and Beth walked out of planning a moment later - together.

       "Oh we are not seeing this," Kristie groaned.

       Darren took Beth to steak house a few blocks from Section. He ordered a beer, and she drank a soda. At first, Darren had to coax her a little to get her to talk much. But by the time the appetizers plate was taken away, and the dinner arrived, she relaxed a little bit.

       They didn't talk about how they got into Section. That was a taboo subject to most people. You never asked - you just had to wait until someone volunteered their information.

       It wasn't hard for Darren to figure Beth out though. She worked in Data because she was timid and quiet. She'd never be able to handle technical support for a team on a mission, but in a sedate environment, she did well. Data was perfect for her. She smiled shyly at him as they spoke and ate their dinner.

       "I need a tail," Alexandra announced, walking into Madeline's office, "Carlson has something for me - Michael is out of town - and Darren is out."        

       Madeline looked at Kristie - who'd just walked into Madeline's office and demanded that she be taken off medical leave. She was going nuts.

       "I'll take it! Anything!" Kristie announced, leaping out her chair.

       Alexandra bit her lip. She didn't want a friend of hers listening into what ever she'd have to do with Carlson. She'd been relieved when Darren was out on a mission, and not available to be her shadow.

       "Did he give any indication about what he has?" Madeline asked Alexandra.

       "Nope,  he just said, 'I have something for you', and I told him I'd call in 1 hour with the meet location," Alexandra told her.

       Madeline nodded. Kristie and Alexandra quickly headed down to Walter's station.

       "OK," Alexandra told Kristie, "I'm gonna have a comm dot on. I'll make him meet me in the Hollis street bar and grill. It's public and reasonably busy."

       Walter quietly handed Alexandra the dot to place behind her ear, and then handed Kristie one.

       "You girls be good," Walter teased them, "And if you're not, make sure you call me first so I can join you."

       Alexandra and Kristie rolled their eyes.

       Kristie kept in closer than Michael did. She and Alexandra had agreed to that because Kristie had different skills than Michael, and wasn't familiar with Carlson or his thugs. Line of site would be important.

       So she sat a few tables away, with a club soda in her hand, pretending to be watching the TV - when in reality she was watching Alexandra, and Carlson.

       Carlson appeared, dressed in an expensive tailored suit, his appearance flawless. He looked over Alexandra, and Kristie saw a mixture or desire and irritation on his face. His comments explained why.

       "Why do you persist on dressing like trash?" He demanded, "I have all of your cloths still - I could bring them to you - you can come get them -"

       Alexandra sighed, "Why do you persist on giving me shit about my cloths? Do I look like I do the job I do?"

       "You didn't look like it dressed well either," Carlson complained, "Don't men treat you poorly, or assume things?"

       Alexandra drew in a deep breath, "Brian . . . please . . ."

       Carlson held up his hands, "OK - I have a disk for you. A client asked me for Chemical weapons. I don't deal in them - you know this of course - but he's in the market for them."

       Alexandra took the disk, "Chemical weapons? What the hell is your client going to use chemical weapons for?"

       Carlson sighed, "He's an extremist - and he hates the Israeli's."

       Alexandra sighed, "Damn . . . do you know who he's going to go to, to get them?"

       "I told him I didn't trust Bisnalli - my competition who does deal in them. But I knew of someone who did, and was reliable."

       "Good," Alexandra smiled, "When do you have to meet up with him?"

       "I told him I'd be in touch within 24 hours," Carlson told her, "I don't know if something like this would buy you any leverage in Section, but I thought it couldn't hurt."

       Alexandra drew in a deep breath, "What it does is keep you greenlisted, and off our most wanted list - thank you. I'll call you in a few hours."

       She slid off the bar stool. Carlson reached out, gently grasping her arm, "Can I at least have a kiss good-bye - since I can't have you for the afternoon?"

       Alexandra forced a smile on her lips, and leaned forward, and kissed him, very thoroughly. She stepped back a moment, later, and strode out of the bar, leaving Carlson wanting for more.

       Kristie left her money on the table, and slipped out as well. They met up four blocks later, to drive back to Section.

       "That man is definitely in love with you," Kristie told her, "To damn bad he's an arms dealer."

       Alexandra sighed, "He's in lust. He's never dealt with women who were strong willed and still attractive to him. He'll get bored eventually - and then I've got problems. He's dangerous."

       Kristie nodded, remembering the man he'd gutted, right before Section brought them in.

       "You don't like him, do you," Kristie said.

       Alexandra drew in a deep breath, "I . . . I do and I don't. I can't get what he is out of my head. I can't get the image of what he did to that banker guy out of my head or his previous girlfriends . . . Michael showed me pictures of what had been done to them when they decided they wanted to leave. Then - I can't stop thinking about how he treated me - before he started bitching about my cloths. He was so good to me Kristie. Considerate in bed - considerate outside of bed. Took care of me when I came back from the hospital . . . it was nothing like Section."

       "And nothing like Darren?" Kristie asked her.

       Alexandra flinched like she'd been slapped, "Darren has always been good to me - no matter what Section made me do. He deserves something better than me."

       Kristie groaned, "Jesus Alex. You and I are gonna have to have one of those serious psychological chats over a six pack of beer and pizza. Darren loves you - for you - Section and your role there has nothing to do with it - and it's not like he's any kind of saint. I heard all about that little mess with Anna. He's possessive - but his heart is in the right place - and unless I am gravely mistaken - Darren can rock your world - and that guy can't."

       Alexandra sighed, "Darren and I are finished - and Carlson is my contact. He'll never be more - so don't worry."

       They had spent the day dozing in the shade on the private patio, making love on the grass, in the hot tub, on the lounge chairs, and even on the same table they were now eating their dinner on.

       Michael had ordered two lobster tails for them. Now he was feeding Nikita little bites of the succulent meat, and licking the butter off of her lips when a drop dared to dribble. After a few bites, they would switch, and Nikita would feed Michael.

       The sun had started to set, and Michael had lit the bamboo torches, which were the only source of light for them at the moment. The flickering light cast dancing shadows across the two lovers, animating the scene that much more.

       "I love watching you eat," Michael whispered the thought to her, before he could stop himself.

       Nikita grinned, "Hhhhmmmm, dare I ask why?"

       Michael took a deep breath, and cupped her cheek, "You enjoy your food so much, each taste, the texture . . . everything. It's because there wasn't enough to eat - when you were growing up, isn't it?"

       Nikita blinked, tears filling her eyes. It didn't surprise her that Michael had thought about what she hadn't had as a child. In that moment, she knew he must ache a little, each time he thought of it. She could see it in his eyes.

       "Yes," she whispered, "But that was then - this is now. Two different worlds, two different lives - and now I am here, with the love of my life."

       She leaned forward, and kissed his lips tenderly, "I don't want to think of the past Michael - only here and now - us."

       Michael kissed her back, tightening his arms around her. He pulled her up with him, and slowly lead her back into the bedroom.

        "You're going to be the dealer?" Alexandra almost gagged.

       Darren nodded, "Everyone else is out or about to be out. It's me or no deal. This isn't going to be a problem - is it?"

       Alexandra swallowed convulsively, "No, not for me."

       Tony was a few feet away, and the rest of the team was slowly arriving. Alexandra looked over at Kim, wishing to god she could talk to the other woman, and not have to worry about everyone else's ears. Alexandra didn't want Darren any where near Brian Carlson. She knew what would happen.

        Alexandra took a seat, next to Kim, and schooled her features into a picture of calmness.

       "This ought to be fun," Kim whispered to her, "Do you think Darren will keep his cool?"

       Alexandra said calmly, "God I hope so. Carlson is getting difficult as it is lately."

       Operations walked in at the moment, Madeline right behind him. She took her seat at the far end of the table, and Operations picked up the remote control, two pictures appeared. Brian Carlson, and the target, Shaki Adallan.

       "Brian Carlson, as many of you know, is an arms dealer that was green listed a few months ago. Alexandra is his Section contact, and he's provided us with an opportunity to get to Shaki Adallan - a Palestinian extremist. Darren will be posing as an arms dealer - who specialized in Chemical weapons. Carlson will introduce him to Adallan, the deal will be made, and two days from now, we'll hand over inert chemicals which we will then track. Alexandra will be posing as Darren's girlfriend and assistant. The remaining team members will take up surrounding positions," Operations told them, "The mission leaves in one hour."

       Alexandra turned to Darren, "Do I need to tell him where we are meeting him?"

       "It's been done," Madeline said, from across the room, "You are present on this mission only because you are Carlson's contact. It's your job to keep him motivated."

       Alexandra kept her calm expression on, "Of course. I'll be in wardrobe."

       Alexandra left the room calmly, and both Darren and Madeline watched her leave.

       "She's not going to be comfortable with you near Carlson," Madeline told him, "He will try to make it personal. Don't let him."

       Darren nodded his understanding, "I've anticipated that."

       Alexandra was dressed in a dressy black silk suit, with a long jacket that came to just an inch above the hem line of her skirt, which was mid thigh. She had a lacy blouse on, so she had to wear a bra. She wished she didn't have too, just to irritate Brian. He'd comment, she was sure of it. She twisted her hair back, and secured it with a thick heavy comb, and applied some makeup, and some sedate jewelry. She stood back from the mirror to examine her look. Elegant, polished . . . exactly what she was going for.

        She walked out of wardrobe, and headed to Munitions, and Walter.

       "Well well well! Doesn't she just look like the corporate queen Bri!"

       Brianna looked up, and smiled, "You look nice."

       Alexandra smiled, "Thanks . . . have you seen Darren?"

       "He was just here," Brianna answered, "Dressed very nice too."

       Alexandra chewed her lower lip, "You two know the mission we're going on?"

       "Oh yeah," Walter said, "He took great pains to look good too. A little competition never hurt a guy any."

       Alexandra sighed, "Walter, there's nothing to compete over. Darren and I are done, and Carlson is a contact. What I have to do to keep him on the string is just work - not personal."

       Walter pinned her with one of his all knowing gazes, "Just cause you told Darren that you and he are finished doesn't mean he doesn't feel something - and I'm betting you are feeling a lot of things right now Red. Just get through this thing, and your uncle Walter will help you straighten it all out."

       He handed her a gun and two magazines. Alexandra slid it into the shoulder holster, and straightened her jacket, "I just want to get through this thing."

       She strode out of munitions, and headed for mission loading. Darren was already there, going over some things with Kim, who had already set up comm in the van.

       He looked up when Alexandra walked in, and looked her over appreciatively. "You look nice," he said.

       Alexandra fought herself not to drool when she saw him. His hair was loose, long and silky. He had  silver hoop in one ear, and his black slacks were snug, showing off firm muscular legs. His charcoal silk shirt was also snug, showing off the muscles of his chest and stomach. The shirt was open at the throat, and he wore a thick silver chain around his neck. He look good enough to eat.

       "So do you," She said softly.

       "We're going to be in the limousine," Darren told her, just as the rest of the team started to appear.

       Alexandra nodded, and walked over towards the limousine. She pulled open the door, and got in. A moment later, she heard someone get into the front, and Darren got into the back, with her.

       "Listen . . . I need to talk to you about Carlson. He's likely to pick at you for information - about me - about the father of the baby I lost," Alexandra told him, "If he finds out it's you, I don't know what he will do."

       Darren watched her for a moment. She was really worried, and she looked so good . . .

       "I can handle him Alex," Darren told her, "Are you worried for me, or for him?"

       Alexandra took a deep breath, "You, me . . . He's so jealous Darren - one of these days he's going to get tired of me, and he'll kill me and walk away on Section. But right now, he's going nuts trying to find out all about my personal life."

       Darren reached for her hand, and squeezed it. She moved to pull it away, but he held on tighter, "You and I  - were friends first. That doesn't change since you ended our romantic relationship. Let me handle Carlson tonight. Have you told Michael about what he's been asking - about your fears?"

       Alexandra nodded, "Yes. But Michael isn't here to tail me. Kristie was the other day - but . . . "

       Darren squeezed her hand, "Listen, while Michael is away, I'll tail you when I'm in, OK? You know I'd always rescue you, right?"

       Alexandra nodded, "He's psychotic Darren. I'd rather deal with Jonathan than him."

       The club they met up at was two hours away. Like many of the other clubs they met targets in, it was dark, not quite seedy, but close, and a den for all the things Section fought against. Carlson was already there, and had reserved a table. He saw Alexandra, walking in on another mans arm. He'd been told by Madeline that Darren would be playing the role of the chemical weapons dealer. Carlson had been looking forward to this evening for a long time.

       Darren was not what Carlson had expected. He was tall, over six feet. Big built, muscular, long thick dark shiny hair and full sensuous lips. An attractive man to be sure. Women probably fell all over themselves for him. But somehow, Carlson couldn't picture his Alex with this man. Had he toyed with Alex? Would he have been a decent father to her baby, if it had survived?

       "Alex," Carlson said, as they reached the table, "You look lovely tonight. I haven't seen that suit before."

       Alexandra managed a tight smile, "Darren, Brian Carlson."

       Carlson and Darren shook hands, sizing each other up. They didn't have long though. The target appeared - early. The meeting began.

       They ordered drinks, made small talk, and then the business discussion began. Terms were discussed, and a date was set, two days from then.

       It was then that the target asked Alexandra to dance. She couldn't refuse, so she let him lead her out to the dance floor, reluctantly leaving Darren and Brian alone.

       "She spoke in her sleep, when she was sick. I know who you are," Carlson said, his voice mocking, "Does it bother you, knowing that another man took care of her when she lost your baby?"

       It bothers the hell out of me, Darren thought darkly, I'd like to rip your throat out.

       "I'm glad someone was there to make sure she got adequate medical treatment. That whole incident was . . . unfortunate."

       Carlson shook his head, "I suppose it could have been my fault - the miscarriage - I did fuck her every night afterall."

       Darren kept his features carefully composed. Carlson was baiting him, and he knew it. It was at that moment that Alexandra and the target returned to the table.

       An hour later, Darren and Alexandra were back in the limousine, on their way back to Section. Darren watched Alexandra peel off her jacket, and pull the lacy blouse from the skirt. As Darren watched her, he could almost feel her skin under his hands. He could easily imagine pulling her into his lap, his mouth on hers, moving to other places . . .

       "So what did he ask about? When I wasn't there?" Alexandra asked him.

       "He knew who I was," Darren told her, "You talked in your sleep when you were sick."

       Alexandra grimaced, "Shit . . . I bet he was a prick."

       "He's cocky," Darren agreed.

       "I'm surprised you didn't kill him, I can just imagine what he said," Alexandra sighed, "Darren, I'm sorry."

       "I wanted to," Darren told her, "I wanted to rip his throat out. But right now, he's useful to Section  - and I don't want to put you at any more risk than you already are."

       Ripping Carlson's throat out wasn't half of what Darren wanted to do. Darren was furious! How dare that prick goad Darren about the loss of their baby . . . a baby they didn't know had been conceived, a baby they'd never be able to have, give a home to  . . .

       Darren had seen photo's, he had known what the man looked like. But now, having spoken to him, having seen the way he looked at Alexandra, the whole thought of that bastard touching his Alex made him want to brutally murder Carlson. He couldn't possibly give Alexandra the pleasure Darren could, Darren was sure of it.

        Darren knew one thing for sure. Alexandra was right. Carlson wouldn't let Section dictate to him long, and when he screwed up, and was no longer green listed, Darren would kill him personally.

        Darren didn't even bother to try and get any sleep that night. He went through his report a few times, before he turned it in, combed through another profile, and by 7:00, he was in the gym. It was 7:30 that Beth passed by, outside the gym door, and stopped when she saw him. She pushed the gym door open, and walked in.

       Darren watched her gingerly weave her way around the gym equipment, back to where he stood. She was nothing like Alexandra. Where Alexandra was tall, her body lithe with lean muscle, Beth was petite, and perhaps a hair on the plump side. Alexandra definitely had curves, but Beth's were a little fuller. Beth could never get away without wearing a bra. Alexandra's wardrobe had consisted of short skirts, snug revealing tops and those boots that made everyone's head turn. Beth's mode of dress was a little more . . . conservative, but still very feminine. As she approached, Darren couldn't help but think that Beth would never cut him off  because she was afraid of failure, and she wasn't a cold op. He'd never have to worry about competition with targets. Especially targets like Brian Carlson.

       "Hey," Darren said, taking in the tan chino pants and, and soft pink cotton shirt, "You look nice today. Got big plans?"        

       "No," Beth replied and smiled shyly, trying hard not to look him over.

        Darren grinned. She was easy to read. He knew what she was trying not to do. He worked out in a tank top and spandex shorts. It was comfortable, but it also left little to the imagination. Darren had never been modest anyhow.

       "Then you'll go out with me tonight then," Darren said, "Since you don't have any other big plans."

       "Yes," Beth answered quickly.

       "Great, I'll meet you up at planning then," Darren told her, "When you get off."

       It was three in the afternoon when Michael and Nikita finally made it out of their room and down to the hotel restaurant for breakfast. They'd finally passed out into a deep sleep sometime early in the morning, only the sounds of growling stomachs waking them.

       Nikita wore a soft pink and creme sundress, with her bikini on underneath it. Michael had chosen shorts and a polo style shirt. Nikita could only remember a handful of time she remembered seeing Michael in shorts - and those were on missions. But he looked ssssoooo good.

       He'd helped her rub sunblock into her skin, turning it into a foreplay as his hand stroked across her skin. It was only the persistent sounds and pains from empty stomachs that finally drove them out of their room.

       "At least we have two weeks," Nikita laughed, "We've pretty much spent this day as it is!"

       "There's still plenty of time to browse the street markets," Michael told her, "And the street markets here are amazing. You'll love them."

       They ate a light meal, and Michael haled an open cab for them. He and Nikita got into the back, and Michael wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and kept her in close to his side.

       The street markets were set up along a road that boasted a paved road, only because someone had laid out cement as pavement. That was it. Each vendor had a tent cover, usually there was two or three sides of it open. Tables were laid out with merchandise sitting out on display. Patrons bargained with the shop owners. Shop owners called people into their shops. Nikita and Michael browsed through a shop of leather purses and handbags. Another shop had hand crafted jewelry, earrings, necklaces, rings, bracelets, ankle-bracelets. Nikita picked out a pair of earrings with a matching necklace and bracelet. At another shop someone had woven blankets in a rainbow of colors. They picked out a few, and then at another shop they found woven hammocks. Michael picked out one made for two people. They found glass wear at some of the shops, pottery, decorative metal sculptures in Brass, silver and gold tone metals, various types of collectibles. The browsed the shops for hours, just watching and looking. The shops started to close at 8, and they headed back to the hotel, to have dinner on the restaurant patio.

        Tonight it was jumbo shrimp, with steamed veggies and some kind of rice dish. Michael ordered some kind of tropical drinks for them that came in a coconut shell. A local band played on the stage, the deep base tones of the  singer, a base guitar and metal drums floated out over the crowd. When they were done with dinner, Michael pulled her out onto the dance floor, and they danced close together, their bodies touching at the hips, swaying together back and forth. Michael kept one hand across her  buttocks, the other at the nape of her neck, his fingers splayed, stroking her flesh, as his lips just brushed hers, teasing, tormenting, promising of pleasures to come.

       "I love you," Michael whispered against her lips.

       "I love you," Nikita answered, "Lets go back to the beach - by our room."

       Wordlessly, they left the restaurant patio, and stripping their shoes off, walked barefoot along moist sand, so the water lapped at their feet as they walked. The reached the beach by their room, and Michael drew her back into the courtyard. The torches had already been lit, and he started to unbutton the sun dress, and slowly slid it off of her, his fingers stroking down her bare arms as he followed the fabric down, then over her hips, and down her legs. He dropped down to his knees and kissed her stomach, his tongue stroking over the pierced navel.

       They moved to the hot tub,  and Michael stripped off his clothing down to bare skin, tossing them down on the ground on the side, and helped Nikita remove the bikini she'd been wearing under the sundress. Michael slid into the water, taking Nikita with him, pulling her to sit with her back against his chest. His mouth moved on her neck, kissing her sensitive skin, enjoying the rush her soft moans gave him. He knew no one else could please her like this, there was no one else she'd ever want, Michael had seen to that. He cupped her breasts in his hands, his fingers stroking over her sensitive nipples, squeezing her as his mouth branded her.

       She rocked her hips back on him, rubbing her buttocks against his already hardening member. Michael suddenly grasping her hips, angling her just forward enough to slid the tip of his cock inside her, and then he thrust forward.

       "OOOHHHH," She moaned in pleasure.

       "That what you want ma chere?" He whispered in her ear, dropping one hand down to rub her clit while he thrust into her from behind.

        Nikita was only happy with this for so long. She pulled away from him, and turned around, to straddle him. She sank back down, feeling him fill her again, her mouth kissing his hungrily, greedily. He felt so wonderful, so full and hard and tight inside her, his hands firm on her buttocks,  her breasts pressed tightly against his chest.

       That tight coil of pleasure inside her burst suddenly, and she moaned out loud, clinging to Michael as she road out her orgasm.

       "Nikita," Michael moaned into her mouth, feeling his own release rock through his body.

       Kim kicked a chair out for Tony when she saw him approaching. Comm was slow at the moment too, thank god.

       "You will never believe what that prick said to Darren last night. I was monitoring, so I heard the whole thing," Kim told him.

       Tony sat down, "Carlson? He's trouble."

       "He's a bastard," Kim corrected, "He knows who Darren is - Alex talks in her sleep when she's sick apparently. He goaded Darren about the baby Alex lost, made some comment about it maybe being Carlson's fault, since he had her ever night. Carlson even asked Darren if it bothered him that another man took care of Alex, when she was sick."

       Tony closed his eyes and sighed, "That would explain the nasty ass mood he was in when we all got back."

       "I'd have laid the bastard out," Kim snapped, "Of course, we can't, the prick is greenlisted."

       Just then, Alexandra walked across the main floor, waved to Kim and Tony on her way to munitions, to pick up Pepe.

        "Hey guys," Alexandra said in greeting as she walked into munitions.

       Pepe trotted out from behind a rack, his tail wagging.

        Brianna bent down and scratched him as he walked by, "He's such a good dog! I can't believe how well behaved he is!"

       Alexandra grinned, "I continually train him. I don't want any problems with the king and queen of Section."

       Pepe stopped, and licked Brianna's fingers.

       "But I don't train everything out of him," Alexandra quickly added, and scooped the small tan dog up into her arms. She nuzzled the little dog, and looked out across Section. It was then that she saw a petite, Hispanic woman with very full rounded curves walk into planning. Darren looked up, his expression telling Alexandra he was glad to see whoever this was. She sat down next to Darren, and Darren went back to work for a few moments.

       Walter walked to the front of munitions at just that moment.

       "Walter," Alexandra asked, "Who is the dark hair'd woman, in planning with Darren?"

       Walter looked, and frowned, "I think her name is Beth. She works in Data. Hardly ever see any of them up here."

       "Hm," Alexandra said, scratching Pepe, while she watched them.

       Darren must have finished up whatever it was he was working on. They both stood up, and Darren held the door open for the other woman, and they walked out of planning, and towards the hallway that would eventually lead out of Section One.

       Kristie walked into Munitions at just that moment. She looked to see what Alexandra was watching so intently.

       "Going out again huh?" Kristie said, "Kim says she is a mouse."

       Alexandra's lip twitched, "Again? The quiet type must be looking real good to him right now."

       "If I were you, I'd go put a stop to that right now," Kristie told her, "It won't last anyhow, she is not his type."

       Alexandra sighed, "Kristie . . ."

       "I know, I know . . . Listen, I am going out tonight - and you are coming with me," Kristie told her, "us single women gotta stick together - sorta single - Kim is coming with us."

       The Raven was an underground club in the center of the city. The three of them had dressed up, and when they walked in, it was dark, lights flashed from the laser show in the dance floor, and the base pounded. The smoke lay heavy in the air, and as if on cue, a group of people left a table, the three woman took the table immediately. Alexandra reached into her purse, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

       "I've been craving one of these all day," Alexandra told them, tossing the pack on the table.

       The waiter appeared, and had a lighter lit for Alexandra before she could reach for her own. Kristie's hand shot out, and snapped the zipo closed.

       "What the fuck do you think you are doing?" Kristie demanded.

       Alexandra looked at her, "I want a fucking cigarette. Don't give me shit today," Alexandra told her, and pushed her friends hand off the lighter.

       Alexandra turned her gaze back on the waiter and gave him her best seductive smile, "Just in time. I like a man with perfect timing - Captain and Coke."

       "Bud," Kristie told him, "And an oncologist for my friend who is giving herself cancer."

       "Bite me," Alexandra snapped at Kristie.

       "Pick me out a spot," Kristie snapped.

       "Ladies, ladies ladies, and I do mean to emphasize the word ladies - not that you two ever did fit that description.," Kim chastised them, and turned back to the waiter, "Manhattan please."

       "Ladies," He smiled, "Keep them coming? Or shall I ask each time?"

       "We'll let you know when we are done," Alexandra told him quickly.

       He left then, and Kristie burst out laughing, "Oh my god Alex! I love it! You damn near got him eating out of your hand already."

       Alexandra grinned, "And I'll leave him here too. I like to play, but I'm done with keeping them around."

       She took  a drag of the cigarette, "So how is relationship bliss Kim? You got some big secret you want to share with Kristie and I?"

        "I wish," Kim said, "We just . . . fit."

       Alexandra sighed, "Fit . . . now that could be taken a lot of ways."

       "It helps that I'm not a cold op," Kim told them, "Tony never has to see me working targets - at least, not often, not to the extent you two do. And things are not perfect, we just . . . we're doing good somehow. I don't know why. I just know we work."

       "So what did he say when you told him you were going out with us tonight?" Kristie asked her.

       "Have a good time," Kim replied, "Of course, when I get home, he'll want to fuck my brains out, but I'm not complaining."

       "Ha! Darren did that kind of thing! I'd go out with the girls, or have to work a target, and It would major sex when I got back!" Alexandra laughed.

       "Too bad a good roll in the hay can't fix everything. I can't even get Stephen into bed now - and that's a rare thing for me to not be able to get in a mans bed," Kristie complained, "A very rare thing."

       The drinks arrived, and Kim took a long deep gulp, "I used to wrap men around my little finger - before I needed a cane. Now I've discovered the ones worth having are the ones that see past it. It's a very effective filter I'm finding."

       They sat at the table, drank slowly, flirted with men as they walked by or stopped at their table. It was hours later, that trouble finally hit.

       Kim and Alexandra had just made their way back from a trip to the ladies room. The crowd had gotten a little rowdier, mostly because it was later and they'd had time to drink for a while. A tall brunette, who carried herself like she owned the place, caught her foot on the wrong side of Kim's cane, and stumbled forward, spilling her drink all over herself and several other people.

       "Fucking bitch!" the brunette swore, and she swung at Kim.

       Kim was barely able to block the swing, barely able to keep her own balance from having her cane kicked off kilter. The crowd was so heavy, and so loud, that Alexandra didn't know Kim was in trouble at first.

       "Watch where the fuck you're going! Fucking gimp!"

       But Alexandra heard that, and so did Kristie. Both of them whirled around, and the brunette, seeing two more women come at her, stepped back, and pulled out a knife from her leather top.

       "Who's first?!" She taunted, nastily.

       Kristie grabbed a beer bottle off the table, and tossed it to Alexandra. Alexandra busted it on the edge of another table, breaking the glass.  The neck of the bottle was now a handle, and a long curve of broken glass know a very nasty looking knife. She stood with her feel spread shoulder width apart, one leg a little forward - in a perfect fighting stance.

       The crowd immediately parted.

       "Apologize to my friend!" Alexandra snapped at her, "and you can walk away."

       "Fuck you, and her!" The brunette snarled, and lunged.

       Alexandra side stepped her, and swept her leg, sending the brunette flying.

       "Alex! Cops!" Kristie screamed.

       Alexandra barely glanced back at the front door, seeing two police officers pushing through the crowd.

       "Go!" Alexandra yelled at them, starting off in their direction.

       The brunette grabbed at Alexandra's leg, dragging her down. Alexandra flipped over, and brought her arm up to defend herself, but the brunette learned quickly, she sliced low under Alexandra's arm, slicing a nice gash across Alexandra's stomach. Kristie kicked the knife out of the brunette's hand, and letting her heal connect with the brunette's jaw as she brought her foot back. Then Kristie yanked Alexandra up off the floor.  The three of them started pushing their way through the crowd, shoving people out of the way, heading for the kitchen. They burst through the door, and found that there was only one exit, a window that was nailed shut.

       "Shit!" Alexandra swore.

       Kristie grabbed up a chair, and swung it at the glass. The glass shattered, and flew everywhere. All three of them felt little pieces of glass cut into their flesh.

       Kristie was the first through the window, then Kim, Alexandra scrambled through last, and between Kristie and Alexandra, they managed to drag Kim quickly down the alley, and out onto the side street. A taxi had just pulled over, and Kristie yanked open the door. Kim dove in, Alexandra behind her, then Kristie clamored in.

       "2nd and Jackson," Kristie told the driver, "Now!"

       "Oh we are in so canceled," Kristie groaned, "Alex - you've done this before, how canceled are we?"

       All three of them were now back in the deserted dark hallways of Section one, with various cuts and bruises.

       "We won't get canceled, but we're sure to get a good chewing out and some shitty assignments," Alexandra told them, "Can you believe that bitch! Pulling a knife on three of us?!"

       "Worse yet, she knew how to use it," Kristie gestured to the oozing gash on Alexandra's stomach, "You're looking at stitches my dear."

       They reached the doors of med lab.

       All three of them stopped and looked at each other. They had too many visible little small cuts on their arms, necks, and faces to be able to hide this.

       "Shit," Kristie groaned, "We gotta go in - and there are virile single men in there, and we look like shit."

       Marc looked up when the three women walked in. In the past, his jaw might have dropped. But not here.

       He looked back over his shoulder at the two medical techs re stocking the shelves, "We got three people who need some cuts cleaned up.

       He dropped his pen down, and started towards them, "What mission was this from?"

       Alexandra draw in a deep breath, "Well . . .it's not exactly from a mission . . ."

       Alexandra hopped up on  a gurney, "Well, Doctor Marc, I got this little problem."

       "Loose the shirt," He told her, "What's left of it."

       Alexandra looked over at Kristie, who was sitting on another gurney, tech was already assessing the cuts, looking for glass, "Now this is a helluva way to pick up men."

       Kristie rolled her eyes, and watched Alexandra unbutton the two remaining buttons, shrugged the shirt off, "The one and only time you wear a bra Alex. You coulda had doctor Marc eating out of your hand!"

       Marc laughed, "I always get a hard on over a good cut."

       Even Kim laughed from across the room.

        "So what happened?" Marc asked.

       Darren heard about the three of them going to med lab immediately. He'd just stopped in to see if his sims were read for tomorrow. Now he raced to med lab. He knew they hadn't been on a mission.

       He watched through the glass doors for a moment. He could see clearly, and hear pretty well.

       "Loose the shirt," Marc told Alexandra, "What's left of it."

       Alexandra looked over at Kristie, who was sitting on another gurney, tech was already assessing the cuts, looking for glass, "Now this is a helluva way to pick up men."

       Kristie rolled her eyes, and watched Alexandra unbutton the two remaining buttons, shrugged the shirt off, "The one and only time you wear a bra Alex. You coulda had doctor Marc eating out of your hand!"

       Marc laughed, "I always get a hard on over a good cut."

       Even Kim laughed from across the room.

        "So what happened?" Marc asked.

       "Some girl with small boobs got envious I guess," Alexandra joked, "She missed - lucky for me. Otherwise, you'd be doing reconstructive surgery."

       Darren walked through the door, but remained quiet. No one noticed him at first.

       "Sure, I'll buy that, and all the small cuts from glass?" Marc asked, not looking up from the wound site he was cleaning.

       "We busted out a window to escape. Someone called the police," Alexandra told him, her tone now serious, "Some big brunette tripped, and went off on Kim. When she saw the three of us, she pulled out this knife. I busted a beer bottle and waved it at her. She lunged, I side stepped - that's when the police showed up, and she managed to grab my foot and get in a good slice. Kristie managed this wonderful ballet looking kick though, and saved me from a bar room floor mastectomy though."

       Marc looked up at her, "Alex - how much have you had to drink tonight?"

       Alexandra smiled, "Enough to still make me flirt with a gay man."

       Marc laughed, "Alex - you flirt with me sober."

       She sighed, and continued to tease him, "True. But you never take the bait! I mean, you're killing me ego here. I'm sitting here with my breasts in your face - and I'm wearing a damn nice bra - and you don't even blink!"

        Marc laughed, "If I was into women, I'd be all over you."

       Kristie looked up from the interesting exchange, and saw Darren standing across the room, "Hello Darren. Adding voyeurism to your list of pass times?"

       Alexandra's head snapped up, "Darren! I . . . what are you doing here?"

       Darren took in the scene in front of him, seeing Alexandra flirt with the doctor, and he felt his temper boiling.

       "I just got back from a date," Darren told her, "And I heard this rumor about the three of you, so I came down to see if you were OK?"

       "The brunette from data?" Alexandra asked calmly.

       "Beth, nice girl," Darren replied.

       "So I've heard. I'm fine. A few stitches and I'll be as good as new," Alexandra told him.

       "How much did you drink Alex?" Darren asked, his voice soft.

       Alexandra groaned, and looked over at Kristie, "We were on round four - right?"

       Kristie nodded, "It's our night off, nothing is on the boards."

       "But someone got past your defenses and managed to cut you," Darren pointed out, irritation plain in his voice.

       "Get the hell out of here," Alexandra snapped at him, "When Michael gets back, he can read me the riot act. You want a blood sample too? See if anything else will show up? There will definitely be some nicotine. I had  two cigarettes, and I'd have had more, if I didn't have to fight Kristie off each time the waiter lit me up. When I get out of here, I'll probably have another. Other than that, you'll see four drinks. How much did you drink tonight?"

       "I'll expect that blood sample in the morning," Darren nodded to Marc.

       "Fuck you!" Alexandra yelled, "I don't answer to you!"

       Darren strode over, and Marc, who had been down on one knee to work on Alexandra's cut, stood up.

       Darren stopped right in front of her.

       "While the Abdallan mission is going on, you do," Darren said, menacingly quiet, "I worry about you. We'll talk in the morning."

       He turned, and strode towards the door.

       "I'll pick the blood work up at 8 am doc," Darren called over his shoulder.

       "Prick!" Alexandra hissed, "Try and find me in the morning!"

       Darren left, without saying another word.

       Alexandra held out her arm for Marc, "Just take it. I don't have anything to hide."

       "So that's why you flirt with me," Marc chuckled, reaching for a syringe.

       Alexandra made a face, "Hah! I flirt with anything friendly that's remotely male."

       Marc gently slid the needle into her arm, "No you don't Alex. I'm safe ground, and you my friend, are lonely."

        He withdrew the needle, and set the blood sample aside, and continued to gently clean the cuts. Kristie and Kim were done much faster, not having a gash to have stitched.

       "Just go sleep it off girls," Alexandra told them, seeing that both her friends were tired, "We'll go hit the diner tomorrow morning for greasy bacon and eggs."

       They left, and Alexandra sighed deeply, "That blood sample will be clean."

       Marc nodded, and drew up a vial of local anesthetic, "Not that it's any of my business, by why did it even come up?"

       Alexandra winced when he injected the local anesthetic, "Damn . . . I hate that stuff . . . . I got hooked on a mission once. Section knew it would happen, and they had  a protocol to deal with it. Then it happened on another mission, and then after that, Kristie, Nikita and I were kidnapped right out of the middle of a mission by a white slavery ring. They gassed us in an elevator, and addicted us on purpose. I'm high risk after all that."

       Marc nodded, "Your job sucks. I couldn't blame anyone for getting hooked on their own though."

       Alexandra sighed, "I  . . . he and I were involved."

       Marc looked up at her, "Were?"

       "Were," Alexandra clarified, "As you heard, he is seeing someone new, and I did call us off. It's just too complicated here. I mean  - say you're seeing a cold op here - and every time you turn around, he's being sent off to go seduce someone else. Lets add in that you once thought this person was dead, and all you wanted to do was lay down and die . . . and all of a sudden - you just reach  point where you're making mistakes - what would you do?"

       Marc drew in a deep breath, "I can't answer that. If It was me dating Darren - and he was having to do Valentine missions, I'd probably have a problem with it. But I'd deal with it."

       Alexandra drew in a deep breath, "Sometimes - it seemed like he didn't really want to touch me . . . I mean  - things got routine, and I'd think he was kind of on auto pilot and . . ."

       The words choked off in her throat, and tears sprang up in her eyes. Marc hugged her, and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead.

       "She's clean," Marc said, as Darren walked in the next morning.

       He handed Darren the report, and watched the operative, thinking about the things he'd seen, heard, and what Alexandra had told him.

       "How well will that cut heal?"

       Marc shook his head in disgust, "I do a lot of plastics. When I'm done with her, there won't be a line."

       Darren nodded, "I don't care about a scar. But she will. Section will. Where is she?"

       "I sent her home," Marc told him, "but I can guarantee you won't find her. She was still pissed when she left."

       Nikita couldn't help but think about the ranch back in Oregon when she swung her leg over the back of the horse. She and Michael had rented two horses for the afternoon, and they'd been given a map of the beach terrain for miles, and some suggestions. The hotel had put together a light lunch that could be carried in a saddle bag, and by 10 am, they were trotting down the beach, leaving the more populated tourist area behind.

       The area that was their end destination had a trail that lead up to it from the beach, the surrounding brush keeping it secluded. There was a waterfall that dumped into a natural pool of water, which in turn became a creek that lead down to the beach farther down. The rock was multicolored from various mineral deposits, worn smooth be hundreds of years of water running across it. Huge pink and purple blossoms bloomed on shrubbery around the pool, the water was crystal clear.

       "Oh my god Michael," Nikita breathed, sliding off the side of the horse, "This looks like something out of a movie!"

       Michael caught her just before her feet touched the ground, pulling her body back against his, "Yes, it does . . ."

       She felt his mouth brush her neck, and knew where his thoughts were going. She knew they'd be in that water, skinny dipping very soon.

       "Time for a swim?" Nikita murmured to him, tilting her head to give him better access.

       "Yes," Michael whispered, his hands already traveling down to the hem of her T-shirt. He lifted it up, and over her head, baring her from the waist up. Already, she had some pink lines on her flesh from the sun, despite the sun block Michael was constantly rubbing into her skin.

       His hands then moved to unfasten the button on her shorts, and a moment later, they dropped down to her ankles. Nikita stepped out of them, hooking her thumbs in her thong panties as she went.

       Michael watched hungrily as she dropped the thong on top of her other discarded clothing, and crept forward to dip her toes into the water.

       She looked back at him, "You know, it's not cold actually."

       Michael pulled the saddle bag off of his horse, set it on the rock edge on the side of the natural pool, and quickly shed his own shorts, T-shirt and sandals, and followed after Nikita.

       She had carefully picked her way along the smooth rocks, until she was waist deep in the water. Michael watched in awe as she leaned back, floating on her back in the water,  her hair moving like a halo around her head,  her arms and legs loose and languid as she floated. She was so beautiful, and all his, heart and soul. No mater what Section did to her physically, Nikita was truly Michael's. His wife . . .

       He felt a brief pang of regret, thinking of Simone. How foolish he'd been, when they had married. The lessons they'd learned had been hard ones. Michael had often doubted he and Simone would have been happy for long.

       Nikita flipped over, and splashed water at him at that moment, and all thoughts of the past and things he could not changed disappeared.

       Michael lunged forward, grabbing her foot and pulling her towards him. Nikita shrieked, unable to get away as he pulled her, drawing her closer and closer to the water fall. She knew what he was going to do. A moment later, he pushed her under the downpour, then joined her, wrapping his arms around her, his mouth finding hers. Nikita wrapped her legs around his waist, kissing him back hungrily. Nothing else existed, just them, this tropical paradise, and their love.

       They spent the day there, frolicking in the pool, touching, caressing, kissing, they snacked on the packed lunch for a while, and as evening neared, they dressed slowly, and climbed back up onto the horses, taking a slow walk back to the hotel.

       Darren spent that morning looking for Alexandra, her previous nights comment ringing in his ears. Prick, she'd said, Try and find me.

        She answered her cell phone, but when he didn't have a mission briefing for her, she said she was busy and had to go. She hung before he could argue. She wasn't at her apartment, she wasn't in Section. He wasn't about to call Carlson and see if she was with him. Kristie just shrugged when Darren asked her, Kim gave him the same response. Walter hardly spoke ten words to him. Darren decided he'd find out what Walter's problem was another day.

       He went through three city parks before her found her, sitting with Pepe under a tree. As he approached, he watched the game they played. Pepe rolled around on his back, pawing at her hands, play nipping at her, then he'd jump up and charge her, lick her hand, and dart out of the way before she could grab a hold of him. Alexandra then stretched out on the grass, and Pepe walked right up onto her stomach, and looked around proudly as if to say he'd just achieved something great. Then Alexandra would knock him off, and they'd start all over.

       She looked over at him after a few minutes, "It only took you six hours to find me."

       Darren dropped down next to her on the grass. Pepe jumped in his lap, and licked Darren's arm. Darren's fingers instinctually stroked the little dogs fur.

       "You didn't leave a trail," Darren told her, "And it's not like Kristie or Kim would help me. Walter is out and out pissed at me over something, but I don't know what."

       Alexandra sighed, "My UA results were good of course."

       "Alex," he said softly, "You scare me when you get so out of control to prove you don't need anyone."

       She groaned, "Do you honestly think I'd ever use again?"

       Darren drew in a deep breath, "I couldn't believe you got hooked on your own the first time. I sure as hell never thought you'd leave me."

       "Are you dating Beth to make me jealous?" Alexandra demanded.

       Darren sighed, "No. I took her to dinner as a thank you, she did some extra research for me and pulled 20 hours - and we had such a good time I asked her out again - since I'm single, even if it's not by choice."

       "I'm not jealous," Alexandra told her, "She's probably better for you anyhow. Not a cold op."

       Darren drew in a deep breath, "So this is where we stand. We can't even be friends?"

       Alexandra looked away, "How can we, after all we've been through? You and I could never be just friends."

       Michael sat at the bar, sipping his scotch while he waited for Nikita. He'd sent her into the salon that afternoon for  some pampering that he just couldn't give her. She'd have her hair and make-up done, a manicure and pedicure. They had reservations this evening at one of the local, and rather well known restaurants. Fresh seafood, prepared and grilled right in front of you. The tables were made like breakfast bars, in the shape of a U. A grill sat in the middle, and they sat 8 people at a table. The only thing you ordered was your beverage. A chef appeared, and prepared and cooked several seafood delicacies as you watched and enjoyed your drink. Multiple couples or groups were seated at a table.

       Michael had dressed in a linen suit. He'd taken great pains with his appearance while Nikita was in the salon. He didn't miss the looks some of the other patrons of the hotel bar were giving him.

       One woman sat down on the bar stool next to his, and leaned on her arm on the bar, slightly forward, giving Michael a good view of her cleavage.

       "Are you here alone?" the woman asked him, "I've seen you sitting here for almost an hour."

       Michael knew he was being hit on. He was used to it. This woman was like so many of the others.

        "I'm waiting for my wife," Michael told her, "She's in the salon. We're here on our honeymoon."

       The woman sighed, "Ah well, congratulations then."

       Nikita had just walked into the bar, behind Michael, and as she approached, the heard the exchange. At least the woman had the good grace to bow out gracefully. She saw Nikita walking up behind Michael, and Michael turned towards Nikita just then.

       He felt his breath catch in his throat. She was stunning. She had on a rich dark turquoise dress, made of some kind of gauzy material. A pair of gold earrings that dangled from her ears, the pattern looked like gold lace, a pair Michael had bought her the other day at the street market, and a gold chain hung around her neck, matching the earrings. Nikita's hair was swept up into a mass of curls on top of her head, two thin tendril hung down to curve under her face just at her temples. Her makeup was sparse but tasteful, her nails done with the French manicure white tips. She was stunning.

       "Mrs. Samuelle," Michael greeted her, bringing her finger to his lips.

       At the restaurant, they were seated at a table with three other couples. Two of the couples were older, perhaps mid fifties. The other couple was in their thirties. Everyone chatted amiably about the weather, the things they'd seen here, other places they'd been on vacation - just nonsense small talk things. Nikita sat close to Michael the whole time, feeling his hand on her knee, the feel of his hand branding her, claiming her.

        Was this what it was like for people in the real world? The world everyone else lived in? The ladies admired her engagement ring, and Michael explained to everyone that he worked for an import company, he'd made a friend in the jewelry business who designed their rings. Nikita was enraptured, listening to Michael talk, the sound of his French accent made every word sound so sensual. He could carry on a conversation on just about anything if need be. He'd have to of course. She'd learned to do her homework before she was out in the field, for just that reason.

       One of the older couples had renewed their vows, and this was their second honeymoon. They had grandchildren, and of course, pictures of those grandchildren. The other older couple had met only a few years ago. The couple in their thirties were enjoying their first real vacation since they'd started a family. The grandparents had their children at the moment.

       The group of them talked all through dinner, including the chef who prepared their meal throughout the evening.

       Kim grabbed the energy bar out of Tony's hand, ripped the package open, bit off a big piece, chewed furiously and swallowed. Tony watched while she managed to devour it in less than a minute.

       He handed her the can of orange juice then, and watched while she gulped it down. She sat back in her chair, and groaned.

       "I feel like shit," she said.

       Tony sat on the edge of the desk, and grinned,  "So we drank a wee bit too much last night - and because we were hung over, fucked our blood sugar all up, huh?"

       Kim nodded, "Our . . . I guess you can say our . . . you have to put up with me . . ."

       Tony watched her with serious eyes, "I love putting up with you, you know that."

       Kim nodded a little, "Oh Tony, I used to be able to drink like a fish, and not get hungover . . ."

       Tony glanced up at the glass tower, finding it empty. He started to massage her shoulders. She used to go dancing a few nights a week too, and walk without the cane, and run, and jump, and . . .  and Tony wished to god he could give all that back to her. But he couldn't, and she'd never allow him to coddle her over it.

       "I'll make something simple tonight," Tony told her.

       "Broth," Kim told him, "and a bucket near by to puke it up into."

       Tony leaned forward, "Baby - do you need to go to medlab?"

       She shook her head, "Give me 20 minutes, to see how I feel."

       He pulled up a chair, and sat down, "So I hear Alex and Darren just got into it, right there in med lab."

       Kim nodded a little, "Yeah - if he walked by, I may toss my cookies up on him just out of spite. He put her through a UA to be a prick."

       Tony frowned, "For what? Drugs?"

       Kim nodded, "It was ugly. She yelled that she didn't answer to him, he said she did while this mission is going on . . . it was just plain ugly. A lot of ego between those two."

       Tony sighed. He and Darren were friends. He knew that Darren was at the end of his rope with Alex, but he also knew that Darren would defy death itself for her. But he wasn't about to argue that point with Kim right now.

       "And I just don't like that woman he's gone out with twice either," Kim told Tony, "She's a mouse - it's irritating. I'm afraid if I talk to loud around her, I'll scare her."

       Just then, Stephen walked across the main floor, and into planning.

       "And then there is Stephen. Kristie is head over heals in love with him - and he is ready to condemn her before he knows the whole story," Kim snapped.

       Tony had no clue what she was talking about, but he decided to keep his mouth shut. She was just feeling testy today apparently - and he knew when her blood sugar got low, she got really irritable.

       They saw Madeline walk by up above on the catwalk.

       "And that one - I don't trust her as far as I can throw her. She's a psycho bitch - and she needs to get laid or something. Find someone else to divert her other than fucking with everyone else," Kim snapped.

       Gina walked across the main floor then, strutting her way to one of the other hallways.

       "And she needs to be canceled," Kim snarled, "She's a waist of space, food and clothing. Probably got some nasty disease too."

       Tony held his tongue. Kim's blood sugar must be very low.

        "Baby, hang tight for a moment, I'll be right back," Tony said gently, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

       He strode quickly towards med lab, and found Marc in the back.

       "Can I barrow one of those little blood tester things? The ones that give you an instant read out? Just for about ten minutes?" Tony asked him.        

       Marc stood up, and walked over to a supply cabinet, "Kim?"

       Tony drew in a deep breath, "How'd you know?"

       "I'm a doctor, I can read between the lines," Marc told him, "Come back and tell me where she's at. I'll send you all home with an bag of dextrose and electrolytes."

       Marc quickly showed Tony how the small test kit worked, and Tony headed back over to comm. He sat down next to Kim, who was leaning her elbow on the table, resting her head on the palm of her hand.

       "Hey baby," Tony said, "I'm a little worried about your sugars."

       He grabbed her free hand under the table, and held onto it for a moment, "So I got this little blood sugar test thing from Marc."

       She only nodded, and let him use the lancet device to prick her finger, slid the drop of blood onto the test stripe, and then slide the other end of the stripe into the little tester.

       Kim opened one eye and looked at him, "He probably had me pegged from last night."

       Tony nodded, and held onto her hand while they waited for the little machine to count down.

       One small beep, and they looked at the small device sitting in Tony's lap. It read out at 39.

       "Shit," Kim swore, and looked at Tony, "I gotta go to med lab and confess I got this problem."

       Tony smiled tenderly at her, "You're not a cold op. It won't be a problem."

       Marc looked up to see Kim and Tony walking into his office. Marc jumped out of his chair immediately. Kim looked terrible. She was ashen, her breathing ragged, her whole body trembled just slightly.

       "Whoa," Marc propelled her to med lab gurney, "When did you notice symptoms?"

       "After I stopped puking," Kim groaned as Tony laid her back on the gurney.

       "Blood sugar came up at 39," Tony told him.

       March sighed, and shook his head, and called for the tech to bring him an IV bag of dextrose electrolytes and an IV kit.

       Stephen stood in planning, partially obscured by all the equipment. He just happened to glance up, and saw Kristie walking across the main floor, heading for Walter's station. He felt his heart skip a beat. She's obviously had a shower, her hair was still damp. She was dressed in a warm up suit, her gate was steady, calm. It had to be social visit. As he watched, he felt that familiar pang of longing. God how he missed her. Why did this always happen to them? Wasn't he enough to occupy her time? Even if it had been a mission - an assignment for her to train Casey - why hadn't she come to him, and told him?

       "Take a picture," Darren's voice said behind him.

       Tony didn't bother to look back over his shoulder. He'd heard the door open, but hadn't bothered to look.

       "Advice from the man who's own love life is in the shitter," Tony deadpanned, "What's the deal with you and that chick from Data?"

       Darren dropped down into a chair in front of a terminal, and started to pull up his files, "Beth - she's nice. She isn't pig headed, and I don't have to stand by and bite my tongue while section sends her off to get her head messed up with some prick arms dealer, and she isn't hung up on things that I can't change."

       Stephen leaned back in his chair, "You know - sometimes I wish I could just kidnap Kristie, drag her off and fix it all."

       "Take them off to the ranch - or better yet, to someplace really secluded, with no interference from Section," Darren sighed, "But . . . it's not a possibility, and I'm done waiting for Alex."

       Alexandra hated being window dressing.  

       "Prick," Alexandra commented to no one in particular, after turning her comm dot to monitor only, "If he stared at my chest any harder, Darren could have charged him twice as much and he'd have never noticed.

       Brian Carlson knew she was talking about the terrorist buying chemical weapons. He also knew that Alexandra was feeling testy tonight. The goods were being loaded up. They were far enough away so that no one could hear them.

       "I offered to have your old cloths delivered to you," Carlson told her, "That's why I complain about how you dress. People see you and assume your a common street whore."

       Alexandra sighed, "Their mistake. I'm just a very dangerous whore."

       Darren had just finished with the buyer, and he was now within ear shot. He'd heard Alexandra's last comment, about being a dangerous whore, not a street whore.

       "If the shoe fits," Carlson sighed.

       Alexandra looked over at him, "I don't know what you said to Darren, but I'm sure it was pretty nasty. You just keep one thing in mind. He's professional. No matter what you say, He's not going to lose his cool and blow a mission. If he does - it's not just his ass on the platter. It's mine, and it's yours."

       "Not mine," Carlson told her, "Alexandra darling, it took years - and you getting under my skin for them to get me. Do you think I'll make the same mistake twice?"

       She shook her head, "You don't know Section."

       "I can get you out," He said softly.

       Alexandra looked over at him, "No you can't. Besides, I wouldn't go."

       He closed the distance between them, looking deeply into her eyes, "We'll discuss this later. Meet me at the Flamingo on 44th in two hours."

       Darren came around the end of the car at that point. All conversation ceased.

       "Lets go," Darren said calmly, though is heart pounded in his chest, hearing what Carlson had just said.

       The limousine dropped Carlson off several block away, leaving Alexandra and Darren alone for the ride back to Section One. His mind reeled with what he'd heard. What if she thought it was possible, would she run for it?

       When the reached Section, he kept her busy with debrief, and then asked her to help him with the final report. He kept coming up with things they should go over. Then he kept her there with him to track electronically where the chemicals had gone so far.

       It was 5:00 am by the time she finally stood up, and stretched, "Darren."

       He looked over at her, "Yeah?"

       "I'm exhausted. I'm going to my quarters to sleep. The mission is on standby for now. We have to wait until the target gets home before we can take him."

       Darren nodded, "Yeah . . . so are you going to your Section quarters - or your home?"

       She yawned, "Section quarters."

       She turned on her heel, and walked away. She's been wondering for hours if he'd overheard what Carlson had said. She hadn't decided how she was going to handle it herself. The rules dictated that she notify Madeline. But Madeline did things differently than Alexandra liked to see them done.

       It was just after Midnight when Gina was finally convinced that Alexandra was not going to get away from Darren and go meet Brian Carlson. Gina had been in Section, and heard the live feed that Darren's comm unit had picked up. Gina decided that it was time to knock the red head down a notch. Besides, if Carlson could draw Alexandra's attention of away from Darren, he must be good.

       So Gina helped herself to a bracelet that had an audio and visual bug inside the stone, dressed up in an outfit that was just like some of Alexandra's, and headed out for the Flamingo club.

       Brian Carlson was seated at the bar, where he could see the door. He looked irritated, and he looked like he was about to give up and leave as well.

       Gina slid up next to him, and ordered herself a drink. Within 20 minutes, she had him talking to her. 30 minutes after that, he was walking down the street to a hotel with her.

       Nikita grabbed up the soapy sponge and threw it at Michael. He ducked, and it splattered against the far wall of the shower. Michael grabbed up the bottle of body wash, turned it sideways, and squirted Nikita with it. She tried to dodge out of the way, but Michael managed to get in good swipe. He stalked her into the corner, his hands out, fingers spread.

       "I almost expect someone to yell at us for playing in the shower!" Nikita giggled, and then sighed as Michael's hands cupped her breasts.

       He didn't answer her. His mouth came down on hers, kissing her hungrily. He lifted her up against the wall, and sheathed himself inside her quickly. Both of them sighed contentedly.

       They'd ate breakfast in bed, then Nikita had slipped into the shower. Michael followed her in. Why waste any opportunity? He tried not to think of Section, but he couldn't help himself. It would always be there, looming, waiting. And their honeymoon was half over.

       He drew back, and thrust back into Nikita, his mouth never leaving hers. It was so easy to forget about everything else when they were together like this. He knew he would always remember this time as the best time of his adult life. He didn't think about his life as a child anymore.

       Nikita wrapped her legs around Michael's hips, squeezing, using them as leverage to meet his thrusts. God what this man could do to her! It would always amaze her, how well they seemed to fit together, how their bodies responded to each other in this special earth shattering way - so different than it was with anyone else . . .

       She felt her body start to convulse around him, and she moaned into his mouth, clinging to him as his thrusts became more urgent, slamming her orgasm into her, letting his own release come. She felt him come deep inside her, and she felt a pang of regret for a moment. She and Michael would never have children. Section would never allow it, and if they did, Nikita would not bring a child into that world.

       Michael gently let her slide down his body, and he held her in the stream of the shower.

       Michael checked his watch. It had been an hour, and the sun was fierce.

       "Nikita," Michael pressed a kiss to her cheek, "Time for more sunblock ma chere."

       She nodded at him, and handed him the bottle. Michael had to smile. He'd rub the lotion into her, and drive her insane at the same time. They'd spent the day dozing on the beach. He moved the umbrella ever now and then to keep her in the shade as much as possible. But inevitably, when they went out into the water, or got up for anything, she got some sun.

       Michael didn't want her to remember their honeymoon as the time she got the worst sunburn of her life, and he knew she'd burn easy. So every hour, she got more sunblock.

       He squeezed a healthy amount into the palm of his hand, and started with  her arm, then the other arm, her shoulders, then moved down over her breasts. His fingers stroked over the firm globes where here bikini didn't cover her, and he could feel her heart pounding in her chest, could hear her breathing becoming more and more ragged. His hands slid down over her stomach after a few moments, and had to work around the chain that was fastened around her waist. One night, they'd came across a jeweler in the street markets, who custom made belly bracelets. Michael had picked out a flat gold chain, the clasp was made in such a way that it looked like the chain was continuous, and had been permanently fastened.

        His hands moved lower, his fingers slipping just inside the edge of her bikini bottoms, his fingers lingering to stroke the flesh there for a moment, and then he moved farther down, and started to work on hip and thigh, then the other, and then down the calves.

       "Turn over," he urged her gently.

       Nikita was like molten putty. Every nerve ending was alive and sizzling. She turned over, and felt the back strings of her bikini top come loose, and she shuddered as his hands moved down her back, his fingers brushing the sides of her breasts as he rubbed the sunblock into her flesh. His hands stroked down over the small of her back, and he kneaded her muscles there, then his fingers danced along the edge of the bikini bottoms, then to the curve where her thighs became her buttocks, stroking and caressing.

        By the time he reached her feet, Nikita was so aroused she was afraid to move - and she was sure that Michael knew it.

       He slowly retied the back of her bikini, then set about re applying his own sun block. There was no way he was gonna let Nikita do it for him. Not after the way he'd just tormented her. He'd be done for - or he'd end up dragging her up the back to their room or creating a spectacle of themselves right here on the beach . . .

       He caught sight of a waiter moving up the beach, and Michael waved him down, ordering drinks for both of them.

       Nikita reached out with her hand, and enmeshed her fingers with Michael's, "Trying to cool me off?"

       "Oh no," Michael whispered, his voice a whisper soft caress.

        Later on, they went back to the water, playing and swimming in the waves.  By the time the sun told them they had only an hour or so of daylight left, they walked back to their private patio. Michael ordered dinner to be served on their patio, and he and Nikita lounged in the hot tub while they waited, content to be wrapped in each other's arms for the moment.

       Tony spotted Kim back at her post at comm. The whole mess with her blood sugar was still very fresh in his mind. Tony wondered how many times he had missed little warning signs in the past. She looked up and saw him, and her eyes lit up. Tony felt like his heart was going to burst. Just seeing her to happy to see him made this hell he knew as Section One worth it all.

       "Hey Baby," Tony greeted her, and set down a bag from a local deli, "I brought you lunch. Roast beef sandwich, and a side of au gratin potatoes, and an orange."

       "Thank you," Kim said, and meant it. His choices were not lost on her. Protein, carbohydrates, and simple sugar, things she needed to regulate her blood sugar with her diet.

       "I must have scared you," Kim said quietly, kicking out a chair for him.

       Tony sat down next to her, "It got my attention. I didn't think you were gonna die, but I am a little worried that this is getting worse. You gotta let Marc monitor this Kim. Section isn't going to cancel you because you're hypoglycemic. Not in your position, probably not even as a cold op - unless you can't perform. If Marc treats this, you perform - life is good."

       Kim nodded, "Cats out of the bag anyhow I guess."

       Tony squeezed her hand. He knew her pride hurt her the most.

       Alexandra's alarm clock went off, and she groaned, rolled over, and hit the off button. She was exhausted. She'd been up doing busy work until this morning - and she just knew Darren had done it to keep her out of Carlson's bed. What Darren didn't know was that she had no intention of going to Carlson last night at all.

        Carlson's words still rang in her ears as she got into the shower. Common street whore . . . if the shoe fits . . . Alexandra knew that her choice of clothing was based on many things. It was a statement. She wasn't going to be a victim, people never looked at her and thought 'spy', and when she'd started dressing this way, it was her way of proving that no matter what Section made her into - she was going to handle it. Nothing was going to break her.

       But now, she wanted something different. No one took her seriously. Michael had been pushing her to learn the skills necessary to lead a team. He had every confidence in her ability to make level 4, and do well. Madeline had almost promoted her, but held back in light of her time spent on the mission with Carlson. Carlson had a hard time with the paradox of how she looked, versus what he knew. That seemed to be the one situation where her choice of attire was doing her good.

       Her six months until her next revue was fast approaching. Maybe it was time to do something different. Michael's prediction was coming true. She went out on missions with other level 4 cold ops, and often thought that she'd do things differently - and better. Would anyone take her seriously when she was briefing a mission in thigh high leather boots and mini skirt and crop top? Section was like any other business in that sense. Perception and presentation were half the battle. Ability was the other half.

       She got out of the shower, dried off and started to sort through what clothing she had at Section. She knew that she had very little that wasn't all "I dare you to stare". She'd gotten rid of her more conservative clothing a long time ago. What a foolish move on her part. But she could do something with what she had at the moment.

       This morning, however, she felt like making some people stop and stare for a different reason.  Thinking for a second of strolling Section's halls in sweatpants and fuzzy bunny slippers, she chose instead a pair of simple black leather pants and paired it with a satin long sleeve button down shirt

and black flats.  She twisted her hair into a quick chignon, high near the top of her head and held it in place with two simple black chop-sticks. Minimal makeup completed the look, and grabbing her cell phone, she left her Section quarters to face another day of hell.

       It was Madeline's office she headed to first. If she was going to start dressing in terms of thinking about her future career with section, she also had to play by the rules - some of the rules at least. One of them was keeping Madeline informed about what contacts were up to. Alexandra had to tell Madeline what Carlson was saying.

       "You look nice today," Madeline commented as Alexandra strode into her office. The smile didn't reach Madeline's eyes. They were cool, assessing  . . . . and Alexandra could easily guess what was going on in her head.

       "Thanks," Alexandra said politely, instead of laughing in Madeline's face. Of course she looked nice. That was the idea.

        Alexandra sat down on one of the chairs in front of Madeline's desk, "Carlson has offered to get me out on several occasions. I'm sure you've heard the exact words over audio surveillance, but he's getting more and more insistent."

       Madeline leaned back in her chair, "What's your assessment of him?"

       Alexandra drew in a deep breath. She knew that Madeline would be able to tell a lot by what Alexandra thought of this. But honesty was probably the best policy right now - even though this was Section One.

       "He believes he can do it. He's extremely possessive. He knows Darren was the father of the baby I lost, and he baited Darren when we first met the target. I'm not sleeping with him as regularly as I was before, and he does get testy - but the possessiveness gets progressively worse. I think that eventually he'll try to force me to leave Section with him - and sell us out."

       Madeline nodded, "I agree. Why are you not sleeping with him as often?"

       "Cause he makes me sick to my stomach," Alexandra told him, "It was hard to reconcile the way he treated me before, with my life at Section, but that honeymoon period died a while ago - and I knew it was just a game to him. It always is. I sleep with him enough to keep him coming back around."

       Madeline was quiet for a moment, thinking, weighing all the pieces of information that she'd gleaned from surveillance and from what Alexandra told her.

       "Has he said how he will get you out?" Madeline asked her.

       "No," Alexandra replied.

       "Ask him how. Let him believe you're willing to consider it. We'll see where it goes," Madeline told her.

       "Call her cell phone again," Ryan snapped, his tone of voice telling everyone how testy he was.

       Kim shot him a warning look. He could vent his spleen on someone else. She wasn't in the mood for it. She dialed up the cell phone, and again, there was no answer.

       "Want me to call someone else?" Kim asked him, "Briefing starts in twenty minutes."

       "Damnit!" Ryan swore, "Bitch is probably sleeping off a busy night at some assholes pad . . . Get me Kristie - and send out a recovery team to track from her cell phone. We'll see how she likes getting her ass dragged back in."

       Kim did part of what Ryan told her. She called Kristie for the briefing. Kim didn't use the cell phone to track Gina though. She located her through a subcutaneous tracker that Gina was testing out for munitions.

       "You're shitting me," Darren sighed, standing in front of Kim and Birkhoff, "Recover someone?"

       Birkhoff shrugged, "We don't make the assignments, we just delivery the news. It's not like it's gonna take all day. You just gotta go and pick her up."

       Darren shook his head, "I got a mission to plan . . .damnit . . . Who's on my team that's actually inside this hell whole right not?"

       "Tony and Alexandra," Kim told him.

       "Call them, I don't have time to waste," Darren sighed.

       Alexandra and Tony arrived at comm.

       "We gotta go recover Gina," Darren told them, "Her cell is telling us she's on the far side of the city, but she had a subcutaneous tracker in place that she was testing for munitions, and that one places her in the middle of the city. She's not answering her cell for obvious reasons - and apparently this has happened before."

       Kim rolled her eyes, "Like Ryan said, she's probably passed out from god knows what in some guys apartment."

       "Lets just get this over with. I'm drowning in a mission I gotta have on the pad tomorrow morning," Darren told them.

       The three of them started for egress. They'd take one of the smaller vans.

       "You look nice by the way," Darren told Alex as they went.

       Alexandra felt a smile spread across her lips. Little did she knew it was the last smile she'd wear for a few days.

       The tracker led them to hotel - on 44th street. Both Darren and Alexandra exchanged glances. Tony noticed, but didn't ask. They were all in mission mode now. They had to see everything.

        Comm lead them up to a room on the third floor, at the end of the hall. The hotel wasn't exactly a rat hole, but it was close. This time of day, no one was around. Housekeeping was still far down the hallway. A 'do not disturb' sign hung on the door knob.

       All three of them listened carefully. No answer. They knocked on the door. No answer. Tony finally set about picking the lock, while Alexandra and Darren shielded the view with their bodies. A moment later, the door swung open.

       What lay before them was a gruesome sight. All three of them quickly, stepped into the room, and closed the door behind them.

       Gina lay on the bed, her wrists tied to the bedposts. Blood was splattered everywhere. There was a deep slash across her neck, blood had sprayed wildly from there. There were bit marks on her breast that had drawn blood, some of them looked bad enough to make them thing the biter had taken a chunk of flesh off with the bite. Then, there was a deep slash that went from her diaphragm down to her pubic bone. The cut was so deep that the organs had been lacerated, and laid bare.

       "Holy shit," Tony finally whispered.

       Alexandra drew in an unsteady breath, "I'm gonna have him drawn and quartered . . . I was supposed to meet him last night!"

       Tony's head snapped around, "WHAT?!"

       Darren swallowed hard, "Carlson cuts up women like this. He wanted Alexandra to meet him last night - and I kept her in section."

       Darren flipped open his phone, and hit a speed dial number, "I need house keeping in room 314 at the 44th street hotel."

       Alexandra was silent for the for hours. Tony watched her stand by the window, watching outside, occasionally looking back to Gina's body. Regret, pain and hatred shown in her eyes. Darren stood in the doorway to the bathroom, leaning on the frame, watching Alexandra, and glancing at Gina's body. Darren looked like he was ready to kill. Tony wondered who would get to Carlson first.

       Housekeeping arrived, and finally, the three of them were sent back to Section, with a piece of jewelry that had been sitting on the dresser in an evidence bag. That particular piece of jewelry had a camera in it.

        Operations and Madeline met them at the briefing table.  Birkhoff took the bracelet,  pulled the chip from under the stone, slid it into the correct receiver, and a moment later the screen it up.

       Gina was wearing a thin white crop top, so thin in fact that once she'd shrugged off the jacket, the viewers could clearly see the outline of her nipples in the shirt. She wore a short skirt, so short in fact that when she bent over in front of Carlson to remove a pair of thigh high boots, everyone got a flash of her pink g-strings.

       Alexandra felt her stomach turn over as the realization hit her. Gina had dressed up like Alexandra. The one thing she didn't do was dye her hair.

       She made a show of shedding her clothing, piece by piece, and then tried to undress Carlson. Carlson pushed her away rather roughly. He pulled off his own clothing, and ordered her onto the bed. Gina was only too happy to comply.

       She laid down on the bed, knee's bent, legs spread, and when Carlson told her to hold her hands out and up, so he could tie her down, she did it, without any argument.

       Then, Carlson pushed her knee's up and out, and stabbed himself into her roughly. Gina moaned loudly, and it sounded faked.

       Carlson continued to pump into her for a few moments, then stopped and reached for his suit jacket, he withdrew a long straight, serrated knife with a bright white pearl handle, and waved it in front of Gina's face.

       "Your name is Alexandra, say it," Carlson ordered.

       Gina's expression immediately changed from one of pleasure, to fear. She's suddenly realized what a vulnerable position she'd put herself in.

       "Alexandra," Gina said, fear evident in her voice, "My name is Alexandra."

       "Tell me you love me," Carlson ordered.

       "I love you!" Gina stuttered.

       Carlson stabbed the knife into Gina's throat, and yanked it across. Blood gushed out of the wound, and Carlson started to pump into her again, harder this time, seeming to enjoy the convulsions of Gina's body as she bled to death.

        "Alex you fucking bitch!" He moaned, as he bent his head down to Gina's breast, spitting out the blood and pieces of flesh that came away with his teeth.

       He reared back, and stabbed the knife into her diaphragm, and sliced down, almost to where he penetrated her with his own body. A few more thrusts, and he twitched and shivered with his own release for a moment, and then pulled out of her.

       He sat back for a moment, surveying the damage that he'd done. Then he stood up, and walked into the bathroom.

       The sound of the shower being turned on came a moment later, and Madeline picked up the remote, to speed through the visual.  

       They were able to see Carlson come out of the bathroom, obviously having showered. He dressed and left the room. Madeline sped the video on and on, until Darren, Tony and Alexandra entered the room. Madeline then hit the off button.

       "How did she know where to find him?" Madeline asked, looking at Alexandra.

       "Carlson asked me to meet him at a club last night, a block away from that hotel. I didn't commit either way, and I obviously didn't show. He didn't have intel for us. Gina must have heard about the location of the comm feed."

       "Did he knew Gina was one of ours?" Operations asked, looking at Alexandra.

       Alexandra shook her head, "He would recognize Darren, a few of Darren's team members, but not Gina."

       Madeline looked from Alexandra to Operations, "Gina has a habit of going after men that are involved with other women. I can't think of any reason why she'd tape it, other than to gloat."

       "I want him brought in," Operations announced, "Now."

       "What are you planning on telling George? He's green listed," Madeline reminded him.

       "He's killing off our operatives," Operations told her, "We're short on staff as it is. I can't afford to lose many more. Interrogate him and find something else we can crucify him with."

       Operation stood up, and walked out.

       Madeline looked at Darren, "You can go. Stephen will take it from here."

       "I can handle a recovery," Darren started.

       "You're too close as it is," Madeline told him, and looked at Alexandra, "You will call him, set up a meet, and let Stephen handle it from there. Do not exact any revenge on this mission Alexandra."

       Kristie walked into Walter's station, and found Alexandra sitting in a chair against the wall, her Chihuahua clutched close to her chest,  his head tucked under her chin.

       "Hey," Kristie said, and gingerly scratched the Chihuahua's back. Pepe lifted up his head, turned and licked Kristie's wrist.

       "Why so glum in here? I came by to catch up on the rumors before I went out on a mission," Kristie said, looking from Alexandra, to Walter.

       "You tell her Walter," Alexandra said, "I might retch if I explain it."

       Walter nodded, and drew in a deep breath, "Gina went after Carlson, picked him up in a bar. He took her to a hotel, had sex with her, and cut her up in the middle of it. He didn't know she was Section One, but he said Alex's name in the middle of it. Gina went to the bar dressed up like Alex."

       "Holy shit," Kristie breathed, "Are we picking him up? Isn't he green listed?"

       "Yep," Alexandra said, "But Operations doesn't care. He doesn't want to lose any more cold ops, since we're short staffed as it is."

       "Operations is looking for a reason to do in Carlson - cause George pushed to green list him," Kristie added.

       "That too," Walter agreed grimly.

       Kristie looked at Alexandra, "Can you do this?"

       "I want to see him drawn and quartered," Alexandra told Kristie, the rage slipping out into her voice, "It's not like I consider Gina any big loss, but what he did . . . and he's done it before too. He said he didn't . . .but . . ."

       Kristie checked her watch, "I think we gotta get up there Alex."

       Alexandra pressed a kiss to Pepe's head, and handed him to Walter, "Take care of my baby for me Walter."

       Kristie and Walter exchanged concerned looks. Then something else drew Kristie's attention.

       "Adding eavesdropping to your list of talents?" Kristie asked Ryan, "We don't exclude anybody, even jerks like you."

       "Knowledge is power," Ryan quipped, stepping out from the alcove he'd been standing in, "I need a clip old man."        

       "What you need is a good ass kicking," Walter told him, "What mission do you need this for? No mission, no clip."

       Kristie walked out, and followed Alex, grinning as she heard Walter telling Ryan he couldn't have his request.

       Stephen looked over and saw Alexandra walk in with Kristie. He hadn't worked with Alexandra a lot in the past. But according to Michael she was good - and Michael didn't give out compliments often. Still, Stephen wasn't comfortable with her on this mission. It was no secret how much time she'd had to spend with Carlson. Kristie had mentioned to Stephen that Alexandra felt some confusion over her forced relationship with Carlson.

        Stephen had heard about what was on that video of Carlson and Gina. He was pretty sure that Alexandra had no problem bringing Carlson in, but still, something in the back of his mind about this whole mission made him nervous.

       Jonathan and Operations walked into the briefing room.

       "Where's Madeline?" Stephen asked, looking from Jonathan to Operations.

       "At the agency," Operations replied, looking at Stephen, surprised at the seasoned operatives rather blunt question.

       "Who did the psych work up on this mission?" Stephen demanded.

       "I did," Jonathan replied tartly, "I also did the original profile for Carlson."

       "And look  where we are," Kristie commented dryly.

       "Enough," Operations snapped, "We have a mission to complete - I suggest we get on with it!"

       And so began the briefing.

       Alexandra had called Carlson, gave him the location of a place to meet her. She went there by herself, with Section manning the area around the park.

       She sat on a park bench, dressed in her usual cloths, the cloths she'd decided to get rid of before she'd seen Gina, and the cloths she never wanted to wear again after she'd seen Gina.

       She checked her watch. Carlson was late. Twenty  minutes late. She pulled out her cell phone, and dialed his number. He didn't answer his cell phone. She was starting to get nervous. Where the hell was he?

        An hour passed, and Stephen recalled the team. Everyone was sent back to Section.

       "Operations just wants Stephen up there," Birkhoff told them, as the team started to pass by comm.

       Alexandra drew in a deep breath. This couldn't be good. Carlson never blew off meeting her. It was possible that he was just getting even with her since she hadn't shown up the other night, but she doubted it.

        "I'm gonna catch a nap," Kristie told Birkhoff, "I'll be in my quarters."

       Alexandra headed for Walter's munitions station. She'd get Pepe and go contemplate her unbelievably bad luck in her quarters with her dog.

       "Hey Walter," Alexandra said, as she walked into Walter's stations.

       Walter looked up, and waved her back into the back part of his area with him. Alexandra followed, feeling very worried.

       "Operations told me to collect your cell, and your gun," Walter told her, "Security has been told not to let you back out of Section. I asked Birkhoff what was going on, and he told me he was just told to list you in abeyance - level 2."

       Alexandra swallowed hard, "Level 2?"

       "Level 2 Ops are sent out on missions where they don't have a prayer's chance in hell of coming back," Walter told her, "The torture twins are having a the second white room prepped. They told me what to set up in there, 'cause they are working on someone else right now."

       Alexandra squeezed her eyes shut, "Oh my god . . . I didn't warn him Walter, I swear it!"

       "I believe you," Walter told her, "Now, we can't be to obvious, but I can get you out of Section. Go to that shielded hallway where we load cargo. I'll be there in 5 minutes."

       Alexandra nodded, and strolled out of Walter's station at a leisurely pace. Her mind was racing. Walter was helping her run, and she knew it.

       5 Minutes later, he pulled a cart with a black storage bin on it into the hallway, and threw back the lid. It had a gun in the bottom of it, boxes of ammunition, tranques, and a few other small things.

       "Get in," Walter told her, "Lucky for you, a shipment that was supposed to come to us, was sent to the agency instead. I gotta go get it."

       Alexandra climbed into the storage bin. Walter closed the lid, and she was plunged into darkness. She heard the sounds of people in the hallways, the elevators, felt the cart she was on being pushed off the elevator and into the parking garage. A moment later, she felt the bin shift as she was loaded into the back of a van. Then the van was started, and she heard sounds that told her she was being driven away.

       Fifteen minutes later, the van stopped. She waited, not moving or making a sound. The lid was opened, and Walter looked down at her, "I got you out, you gotta take it from here. I'd find out who else besides you is talking to Carlson."

       Alexandra nodded, scooping up her supplies, "Thanks . . . I appreciate this Walter."

       "Forget about it," Walter told her, "And I mean really forget all about this Red."

       Alexandra chuckled, "Take care of Pepe for me - and if I don't make it back, tell Darren I'm sorry."

       She climbed out of the van, her supplies in her bag, and disappeared.

       Hours later . . . .

       "I want every last surveillance camera checked! She didn't get out of here by osmosis!" Operations yelled.

       "Already did that," Kim piped up, "She disappears off camera here . . ."

       Kim gestured to a spot on a Section grid map, "The area is shielded  - we don't have any surveillance because we store frequency sensitive combustibles there. One of the storage units was open, and it also opens up to the outside - it's how we ship out unstable waste. It was being worked on by maintenance."

       Operations drew in a deep breath, "She escaped through a garbage chute?"

       "Yes," Kim replied.

       Operations shook his head, "Our security is only as good as a locked garbage chute - that's what you're telling me?"

       Birkhoff shook his head, "No - those chutes are usually electronically sealed. She must have found a way around it. I'll work on it."

       "Birkhoff work on how she got around those seals. Kim - call in Stephen, Ryan and Dante, have them assemble their teams. Darren will report to Stephen. He doesn't lead anything until Alexandra is recovered."

       Nikita stood on their private patio, watching the sun go down on the ocean, the sunset starting to light up the night sky. Michael had walked back into their suite momentarily, to get them some wine.

       "Your melancholy," Michael said softly,  coming up behind her, sliding his arm around her waist, drawing her body back up against his.

       "I . . . I wish we were going back to different lives," Nikita explained, then turned her head slightly to look at him, "But if we were, it wouldn't be you and I here, right now."

       Michael brushed his lips across hers in response. What could he say? She was right. Had it not been for Section, they would never have met. Ever. For all the hell Section had put them through separately and together - would it have been better or worse not having this last 7 days together, on a real honeymoon - with the woman he loved?

       It was a question Michael couldn't honestly answer. If he'd never known Nikita, he wouldn't have known he was missing. He'd also have been dead by now. But on the other hand, the experiences they'd had would forever affect their lives. Their marriage would be a marriage only during those few precious hours when they had time to leave Section and go home at night. There would never be any children. They'd be forced into Valentine scenario's, separated for weeks on end . . . .

       They would leave behind the Bahamas in three days. Michael had vowed to make this honeymoon the most memorable time in Nikita's life - for good reasons. He was fairly sure he'd done that. They'd stayed in Luxurious accommodations, ate the finest the islands had to offer, drank the finest wines, shopped until Nikita said she couldn't shop anymore, and when all the things that  money could do for them were exhausted at the days end, they were still together, able to hold onto each other, make love without any concerns about ringing phones, for once not care who might be watching, and talk about things they'd never been able to talk about in Section.

       He felt Nikita's lips brush his neck, "I've had a wonderful time Michael," Nikita whispered to him, "Thank you."

       It was all Michael needed to hear. He turned her around, his mouth moving on hers, kissing her hungrily. He wanted to permanently imprint into his memory how she tasted after she'd been drinking red wine, how she tasted after they'd shared a few too many of those tropical drinks that arrived at the table in a coconut. How her arms wrapped around him, clinging to him, moaning his name in ecstasy when he'd driven her mad with his touch. How her body responded to his, how his body responded to even her whisper, the feel of her breath on his neck, the feel of her lips on his. It was all madness and Michael was an insane man.

       He drew her down to the grass with him, and while she straddled his hips, she was already pulling his shirt loose, easing it up his chest. Michael tossed it aside, his fingers deftly opening the buttons on her dress, laying her breasts bare to his devouring gaze. He stroked his fingers over the already hardened buds, and hearing her soft gasp of pleasure was like a heady intoxicating drug. Michael cupped and gently squeezed the twin orbs of tender flesh, then shifted one hand to allow his lips to take her into his mouth. His tongue stroked over her nipple, then he suckled and nipped at her, loving how her flesh felt on his tongue, knowing it was him, and only he that could make her feel like this.

       His mouth shifted to her other breast, and he dropped his hand down, freeing himself from his shorts. Nikita instinctually knew what he wanted her to do, she raised herself up on her knee's a little, and Michael gazed into her eyes as he slid into her tight, hot wet core. The deepest emotions were laid bare when they were together like this.

       My life, my love, my reason for being . . .

       Alexandra had contemplated how she'd run a hundred times in her head before, but she'd never found a plausible method for her escape. She'd certainly never planned with help in mind. But her reasons now were different. She wasn't getting away, she was getting evidence. How to do that was a totally different scenario.

       She could follow Carlson, bug him, find out who was helping him and how. Pictures could be faked, so could audio surveillance. The condemning evidence would be to correlate the times, locations and leaked intel. How she was going to pull that off was a mystery still. But first off, she couldn't look like the Alexandra that Section and Carlson knew.

       Her first stop was a drug store. She bought a hair dye kit, a pair of scissors, and some make up, and towels. Her next stop was second hand clothing store. Her third stop was a rat hole hotel at the end of the same street.

       She cut her hair down to a messy, and rather uneven length just above her shoulders. Then, she dyed it black. She put the towels, the lengths of hair she'd cut off, and her old cloths into a bag, and changed into the cloths she'd bought. Loose Jeans, T-shirt, worn looking hiking boots. A beat up faded dark blue cloth jacket. A small ring that would look like her nose was pierced but was actually a pressure clip sat  just on the edge of one nostril. She another ring on the corner of her lip, cuffs on both of her ears. Sunglasses that looked nothing like what she'd normally wear. She disappeared out the side door of the hotel. She wandered down the alley ways, and found a barrel that looked like it was used to for burning. She dumped her old cloths into it, the thigh high boots, skirt, crop top, jacket, towels with hair dye and all into it, poured in the lighter fluid she'd bought earlier, and lit the whole mess up - and walked away. She's spend most of the money she'd had on her. It was time to build some back up. She headed for the subway. That place was always easy pickings.

       "What do you mean? They're sick?" Operations snapped.

       Kim sneezed in response, then looked sheepishly up at him from the chair she sat in, "Yeah - some kind of flu or something running through us. Lasts about a week I'm told. Doctor Marc say's it's nasty stuff, and half the cold ops you asked for have come down with it."

       A much smaller group than Operations had intended to use were now standing in the briefing room.

       "Keep me posted," Operations snapped at her, "When are Michael and Nikita due back?"

       "A few days, and the flights out of the Bahamas are booked solid - I've checked already."

       Operations scowled, and headed for the small group in the briefing room. Two low level missions had been canceled to divert personnel to priority missions, and now he had an operative on the run. A talented operative.

       "Do we have anything to work with?" Stephen asked as Operations walked into the briefing room.

       "She's been out for 90 minutes," Operations barked out at them, "She knows our procedures. We having nothing. Her accounts have been frozen. We've sent watchers out to all her favorite haunts and to keep an eye on civilian friends."

       "She also knows exactly how we track people," Darren pointed out, "She was on the recovery team that went after Michael and Nikita when we did that training mission. She won't look anything like herself. Unless we see her face - she'll be hard to find."

       "Just find her," Operations snapped, "She has no resources - other than Carlson. Find him, cover him, and cover this city. I don't want anyone getting in and out without us knowing what their face looks like!"

        Carlson hung up the phone, rather surprised at the phone call he'd just received. Alexandra had run on her own, after she'd told Carlson there was no way it could be done. Of course, she'd never have known he'd have help from the inside. Carlson wondered what could have prompted her to run in the first place. It might have been connected with his failing to fall into Sections trap. He was sure they'd blame her, assume she'd warned him somehow. Of course, Carlson's other contact inside Section said she was put into abeyance for other reasons, but Carlson didn't exactly trust this other contact.

       Where would she go? Would she contact him? Over the last couple of months, it had become painfully obvious that Alexandra didn't trust anyone, not even him. He supposed he couldn't blame her, considering the line of work she was in.

       If only she'd left Section with him, than without him . . .

       He picked up his phone, and called in some of his men. He ordered them out to the buss stations, the airport, into the city to watch some of the places Carlson knew were her favorite haunts.  He also ordered security on his home stepped up. Carlson didn't know how far Alexandra might go.

       After a few hours of working the subway passengers, she'd managed to collect several hundred dollars. She had no intention of buying her supplies, but having some extra cash on hand helped. Especially when she'd need a room to work in.

       She dumped the ID's and wallets in the restroom, keeping the cash, and headed out of the subway system, and now found herself in the heart of the city. She got herself another room in a rat hole hotel, then headed back out. She knew of a shop where she could get the supplies she'd need. She just had to get in and out of it, without Section seeing her. Surely, they'd be watching the place.

       She took off the sunglasses. They were too conspicuous at night. Instead, she donned a beaten up beret, and took to the street.

        She took a city buss through the area first, and spotted a beat up van with dark windows. A bum on the corner looked like Ryan, and Alexandra almost burst out laughing when she saw Kristie dressed up like a hooker on the sidewalk. Kristie had to know that Alexandra would spot her, maybe that was the idea.

       Alexandra got off a few blocks away, and then came back up the street.

        Kristie did exactly as she was told. She was told to dress up as a street hooker, and watch for Alexandra. So she did. She made sure she looked the part. She also made sure Alexandra could spot her. She stood a few doors down from the shop that Alexandra would want to go into. Ryan was at the end of the block, looking like a drunken bum. Kristie didn't think that was too far off the mark.

       Kristie knew that Alexandra would have changed her appearance. She didn't expect to recognize her, and she had no intention of helping Section catch her. Kristie knew why she'd run - to clear her own name, and find out who else was helping Carlson.

       Alexandra went into the shop from the front entrance, to see where the stuff she needed was kept. It took her all of ten minutes. She'd have to come back much later - probably at 4 am. She left the shop, and wandered around the city for a while, before heading back to her room in the rat hole hotel.

       "Sir," Birkhoff's voice came through the intercom, "Darren has someone in at the buss terminal - say's he saw a blonde with Alexandra's face getting on the buss this afternoon. Short skirt, boots, leather jacket."

       "I want a bus route with connections in ten minutes, recall the teams," Operations snapped.

       Darren got back to Section 15 minutes later. Kim was waiting in the hallway for them. She shoved Darren back against the wall, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

       "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Darren demanded back, "Don't blow  your temper here of all places!"

       "My temper?!" Kim spat, "She would never betray Section, certainly not for that monster Carlson! Why couldn't you just forget we got a lead!"

       "You've never been on a long term valentine mission. It does things to you. Alexandra has always strained at the leash here," Darren replied.

       "I still can't believe you - of all people - could believe she'd do this!" Kim shook her head.

       "I never thought she'd leave me either," Darren replied, and stepped around Kim.

       Darren strode away, hating himself for things he couldn't control. If he'd ignored this lead, he'd have been pulled off the team. If they were going to catch Alexandra, Darren wanted to be the one to do it. He didn't want her to die in the white room. He'd kill her himself before he'd let that happen.

       The security on the shop she needed to burglarize wasn't that drastic really. There was simply no way to get around it without electronics or setting off the alarm. So she didn't. But she didn't want them looking for her either.

       She wore a blonde wig, and padded her cloths. She wore big black framed sunglasses with lenses that were just barely smoked. It would obscure her features, but allow her to see.

       She went in through the back door, grabbed the equipment she needed, and got out. She could hear sirens coming as she climbed over the fence, dumping the wig and sunglasses in her shoulder bag, along with the padding that she'd paused to pull out of her clothing.

       She spent the next three days dodging anyone she thought might be connected with Section One, while she tried to get close enough to Carlson to tag his car and plant a bug in it or on him. She never was able to get close to him, but she did place at tracker on the car.

       Her next trick was to steel a car, and get close to Carlson's place. It Thursday, and the pool was always cleaned on Thursday, and Carlson always went to his club on Thursday. She could stop the van a mile back, and take the drivers place. As long as she didn't get too close to the house staff, she would probably be OK.

       Kristie couldn't help but wonder what was going on in Darren's mind. Was he so bitter over the break up between him and Alexandra that he'd let her be caught when she had to be innocent? How could he possibly think Alexandra would choose Carlson over Section?

       They'd been split up to cover the possible locations she could have gone through. She, Darren and Ryan were on their way to one of those points now.

       Kristie also had to question the wisdom of putting Darren and Ryan in the same car. But it had been Jonathan's doing. That alone explained a lot of it.

       There were 5 other teams dispatched to various sites as well. Kristie hoped to god to bus station attendants were not observant.

       Alexandra dragged the unconscious pool man into the back of his van. She stripped off his coveralls, and pulled them on, and then pulled the cap down low over her eyes. She was taking a huge risk, and she knew it. She'd either hit the jackpot, or get herself killed trying to get it.

       She pulled up to the gate slowly, and waved at the camera, keeping her face hidden. Whomever was working security that day let her in. Alexandra had to smile. Carlson had a brand new staff, and most of them were as incompetent as the last crew he had.

       She pulled around the side of the house, just like the pool man did, and started back towards the pool area with the bag that had the pool chemicals in it, on top of her other equipment. She went right up to the window that lead into his office, fidgeted with the lock, and it popped open. She quietly climbed in, walked over to the door that lead into the house, and locked it, just in case she needed 5 extra seconds.

       She sat down in front of the computer, and went to work praying to god she remembered what she'd been taught.

       She copied the entire hard drive, the programs, the data files, everything. She went through all the email addresses, and all the old emails, and copied them. Then she installed a little program that would forward every email he received and sent to an anonymous email address she'd set up yesterday. She planted two voice activated bugs in his office, one of them on the phone, and then slid out the window,  walked back to the pool man's van, and drove off the property. She left the van where she'd waved the driver down initially, put him back into his coveralls, and then headed back into the city.

        "I just don't buy it," Darren argued, "Same as when everyone was convinced Michael and Nikita made a run for it, something else is going on."

       "I'll tell you what's going on, she got a taste of the good life and wants to go back," Ryan argued.

       Kristie sighed, "I think we just have way too much testosterone in this car."

       Kristie was sitting in the back seat, and saw Darren's eyes crinkle in the rear view mirror, so she knew he was smiling. Ryan just kept his mouth shut.

       Then Ryan's cell phone rang. He pulled it out, and flipped open, "Yeah? . . . shit . . . 25 miles east of the city . . . yeah, we're got arms and some ammo . . . yes . . .  yes . . . all three of us . . .  every two hours?  . . . . got it . . . . alive? . . . If we can . . . . whatever."

       Kristie's eyes met Darren's in the mirror, something was very wrong. Ryan hung up the phone, and turned in his seat so he could see Kristie as well, "Well, looks like your whole Alex is innocent theory just got blown to shit. Hedges and Ratkin were just found dead, and the last thing they reported was that they had Alex in a building on 33rd. 15 minutes later, someone started to pull files from section using Hedges codes. Sections being evacuated now."

       "Not Alex," Kristie replied immediately, "She doesn't have the skills to pull files through all the fire walls she'd need to."

       "Says who?" Ryan asked, looking at Kristie, "She had someone else's codes!"

       "She couldn't do it!" Kristie told him, "If it's anything beyond loading a new photography program or reading her email, I'm telling you she can't do it!"

       "Well, someone she knows did it," Ryan told them, "We're out in the cold. We gotta call in every two hours. They're recalling all the teams, she's obviously still in the city."

       Alexandra hadn't been anywhere near 33rd that day. She went back into the city, left the car in a parking lot, and hopped a city bus back to the hotel she'd last set herself up in.

        She started eating on the sandwich she'd bought, and started to sort through the emails first. That was the most likely place she'd find anything damning. Carlson did a lot via anonymous email accounts.

       She'd been sorting through them for about an hour when she came across one where someone was telling Carlson that the hit had taken place. Two section operatives were killed, and files were stolen from Section with their codes.  Whomever sent the email told Carlson that Alexandra would be blamed. She'd never be able to return to Section, but at this point, they weren't close to catching her either. If Carlson was going to take her out of the country, he had to locate her on his own.

       Alexandra felt her stomach twist into knots. This was how Carlson was going to get her away from Section. She'd never taken him seriously, and now it was going to cost everyone else dearly.

       She wanted to copy the email and send it, but if she sent anything to Section right now, they would trace her. So she sent it to herself, storing it on the web just in case the disks were damaged, and went about the task of finding out who was emailing Carlson.

       "I don't believe them," Walter said to Brianna, as they raced through packing up munitions. He'd been told they had twenty minutes to evacuate Section. Walter had done this many times before, but it was impossible to pack everything he had. So it was limited to some of the guns, ammunition, and explosives. He got the last storage bin onto the motorized cart, and pulled Pepe and his bed out of the spot that the Chihuahua occupied while he was in Walter station. Walter was about to ask Brianna to grab the dogs food, but when he turned around, she was already putting the bag of food into her shoulder bag. She held her hands out for the dog. Walter handed him over, and Brianna gently set him inside her bag. Amazingly enough, Pepe didn't complain.

       "Where are we going to go?" Brianna asked him.

       "Secondary site, Operations never releases the location of them until we move. We might make it back here eventually," Walter told her, and looked back at the munitions station, that still looked half full, "God I hope we do."

       "Why would she run, and tell someone how to get to Section, with her dog still here? She loves this little dog more than anything," Brianna pointed out.

       "She wouldn't," Walter told Brianna, "I think someone is framing her."

       "The witch," Brianna spat the term out, and looked around cautiously. Walter knew who she was talking about. Jonathan. Brianna was superstitious, and she had opinions about the dubious talents Jonathan possessed.

       "Be careful Bri," Walter urged her softly, "Lets see what's happens. We're no good to her if we're locked up someplace."

       It was hours later when she finished going through the emails, and examining the system. She had it all loaded up onto the web, just in case. Then, she had all the disks hidden in the room. She opened the window, it felt hot and stuffy in here now, and she was so tired, but she didn't dare sleep. She had too much to do. She'd been out for 5 days, and she probably hadn't had 10 hours of sleep in that time.

       She'd been listening for Carlson to return to his office. He did, but just for a few minutes. Then her computer warned her that he'd just been sent new email. She quickly opened it up.

       'Can't get to the dog. Darren, Kristie and Ryan will be sent to the Highland hotel to investigate a room they think Alex stayed in. Darren and Kristie are two friends, Ryan is not, but you must eliminate all three.'

       Alexandra could only guess that Carlson had wanted to get Pepe to get her to come to him. By eliminating her friends, maybe he thought she'd be more willing to leave Section One. By framing her, he was forcing her hand. She wasn't about to let any of it happen. She shoved her gun into the waistband of her jeans under the jacket, and shoved a box of ammo into one pocket, the two extra magazines into another pocket, and raced out of the hotel. She ran several blocks, then stopped at a pay phone to call Darren's cell. It was intercepted, the call went through to someone at Section. She hung up and started running again.

       Kristie was tired. She needed a shower, but most of all, she needed to get away from Ryan. Ryan was constantly needling them about how they had been wrong about Alexandra. At this point, Kristie wished Alexandra's next target would be Ryan, just to get him to shut up. Of course, it wasn't Alexandra killing them off, Kristie still believed that.

       "This rat hole?" Kristie said, surprised.

       "It probably has a shower, which is more than what we have had for days," Darren complained quietly, "I'll take the alley."

       "I got the back stairs," Kristie announced.

       "I guess I get the front then," Ryan said, as if he'd just been given the least desirable choices.

       They split up.

       Darren walked into the alley, watching carefully as he went, checking behind dumpsters and crates. He didn't expect anyone to come up behind him.

       "Darren!" Alexandra called out from behind him.

       Darren whirled around, gun raised and ready.

       He almost didn't recognize her. Her hair had been hacked of just above her shoulders, and she had dyed it black. She was dressed in shapeless cloths that were probably too big on her. She had a hat on her head, sunglasses covering her eyes.

       "It's a trap - Carlson is waiting for you up there," Alexandra told him, her eyes shifting from his face to the gun.

       "Lower  your gun Alex," Darren said softly.

       "Listen to me!" Alexandra begged him, "I have evidence! Just not enough yet! Someone else inside Section is feeding Carlson and framing me - it's the only way he could get me away, because I wouldn't go!"

       Just then, she heard a scrape behind her, and she whirled around. Kristie stood at the mouth of the alleyway, her gun trained on Alexandra.

       "Drop the gun Alex," Kristie ordered her.

       "I . . . shit!" Alexandra swore, looking around, looking up. She was trapped. In her efforts to warn them, she'd managed to trap herself.

       "Carlson is gonna be here any minute, and he's going to kill the three of you! Ryan is here somewhere - right? Who sent you here?" Alexandra demanded, looking from Kristie, to Darren.

       "Operations," Kristie replied, "Drop your gun Alex. I don't want to shoot you."

       Alexandra glanced form Darren to Kristie. They'd do it, both of them would. Section would want her alive though, to be questioned. Their shots would be disabling.

       "You're falling into a trap!" Alexandra yelled at them.

       "Then lower your gun, and we listen," Kristie told her, "just set it down, kick it a few feet from you."

       Alexandra knew they had her. She was out of options, and she wouldn't shoot them to get away. She dropped the gun, and kicked it away.

       "Someone set you up, for Carlson to take you both out," Alexandra told them, turning her head back and forth as they started to advance on her.

       Just then, the side door on the second floor burst open, and Carlson came out, gun in hand, and aimed at Darren.

       Alexandra dove, knocking Darren back. She heard gun fire, behind her, above her, and felt something white hot tear into her back, just under her shoulder blade, and then her thigh.

       Darren saw Alexandra dive, just as he raised his own gun to Carlson. He couldn't get the words out fast enough to stop her, and just as Darren fired, Alexandra was on him. The shots that were meant for Darren tore into her, propelling them both back into the pile of trash cans and the dumpster.

       Kristie had fired two shots, taking him out at the knee's. He swung precariously against the railing, and Kristie raced up after him. They needed him alive to clear or condemn Alexandra.

       "Bitch!" Carlson screamed, scrambling to get to  his gun, "You're supposed to be dead! Not her!"

       Kristie fired another shot, hitting his gun so it skittered off the walkway. She leapt onto Carlson, and wrestled his wrists around, binding him with the plastic riot cuffs. They'd hold for about half an hour. Section would be here long before them.

       The bodyguard was dead of course. No one was careful where they shot him.

       "Darren?" Kristie called down, "Talk to me!"

       Darren rolled Alexandra off of him, but didn't let her roll onto her back, "Shit! Alex! Stay with me, help is on the way."

       Alexandra pushed his hands away, and struggled to get up, "No . . .I . . . Gotta go . . . they won't . . . believe . . . me . . ."

       She pushed herself up to her knee's, but Darren held her down, "We've got Carlson alive."

       Darren would see that she was trying to focus her eyes on him, and having trouble. He heard the van screech to a halt. He stood up, and scooped Alexandra up, wincing as she cried out in pain.

       Hours later . . .

       Doctor Marc had worked in much worse field hospitals before. Luckily for his patient, this one seemed to have almost everything he needed. Both bullets were easy to remove, and though she'd bled heavily, the blood loss had started to slow when they brought her too him. It was a matter of cleaning the wounds, stitching her up and starting the IV's of antibiotics and fluids.

       Operations ordered that she not be given any sedatives, they'd need to question her. Marc used a local anesthetic to numb her wounds while he worked on them, and vowed that someday he'd forget anesthetic completely when he worked on Operations.

       "I have to tell you something Alex," Marc told her, when he sat back from hooking up the last IV.

       Alexandra looked at him with pain weary, exhausted eyes.

       "What?" she asked softly.

       "I liked the red hair better," Marc teased her.

       She managed something of a smile, "Well, since you're not into women . . ." Her eyes drifted closed for a moment, "Have you heard anything yet? About Carlson?"

       "No," Marc told her, "I sent staff to keep him from bleeding to death, but that's it. They were still working on him when the tech came back."

       "They?" Alexandra asked.

       "Madeline and the torture twins," Marc told her.

       Alexandra sighed, "Good . . . don't trust . . . Jonathan . . ."

       Marc stroked her hair back from her face, then stood up, and turned around. He found Darren standing several feet away.

       "How is she?" Darren asked quietly.

       "Exhausted," Marc told him, "She'll be fine. Flesh wounds, she was real lucky with that one under the shoulder blade."

       Darren nodded, "I'll never understand her. She pushed me out of the way - he was shooting at me."

       Marc looked over at his patient, then back at Darren, "What don't you understand? She loves you."

       Darren shook his head, "I don't . . .  I don't know anymore. I don't think she does."

       "She doesn't want to, but she does. " Marc corrected, "Listen - she needs to rest. Come back later. Operations is gonna put her through the ringer soon enough as it is."

       Kristie and Kim watched Darren walk over to where Beth worked, deciphering the encoded files on the disk that Alexandra saved as evidence.

       "Think we ought to remind him who just took two shots saving his sorry ass?" Kim asked Kristie.

       Kristie sighed, "She broke up with him - and if I know Darren - he'll get bored with this one anyway. Besides, it's not like Darren's not giving Alex the time of day when she isn't running away and dyeing her hair black and cutting half of it off."

       Kim laughed, "She does look like hell, but we'd never recognize her."

        Kristie stretched, and yawned, "I'd puke, if I had to cut my hair the way she did and dye it some hideous color! And the cloths she was wearing! She planned well."

       "I just hope all her planning isn't in vain. I'm not so sure she's totally in the clear yet - and speaking of in the clear, I gotta go talk to her about something."

       Kristie stood up, and went down the hallway with Kim, to where medlab had set themselves up. It was just a curtained off area, and techs were busy going back and forth, treating two or three wounded cold ops, and several cold ops that had caught the some kind of flu.

       Kim pushed past the curtain, spotted Alexandra.

       "I don't think she ought to have visitors yet," Doctor Marc announced, and pulled the curtain back in place.

       Kim looked over at Kristie and said softly, "Run interference for me, I gotta explain to Alex what she's going to tell them about how she got out of Section."

       Kristie raised an eyebrow, "What do you expect me to do? Tackle him?"

       "Flirt with him," Kim told her, "Ply him with those feminine wiles that Madeline trains all of you with!" Kim teased her.

       Kristie rolled her eyes, "Hello!?! He's gay!"

       "Damn - do something, anything," Kim told her, "You're the cold op. Think of something."

       Kristie sighed, and pushed the curtain back again, and strode after Doctor Marc.

       "Hey doc," Kristie began, "Do you have a moment? One of my tattoo's looks like it might have a rash on it - and I don't know what to do about it."

       Kim made her way over towards Alexandra's bed once Kristie had the doctor occupied elsewhere.

       "Alex," Kim gently shook her friends good shoulder, "Wake up, Alex!"

       Alexandra's eyes slid open, and with some obvious effort, focused on Kim, "Medlab? It doesn't look right . . ."

       "We're at a reserve facility," Kim explained, "I have to tell you what you're going to tell Operations and Madeline, when they ask how you got out."

       Alexandra focused her eyes on Kim, "You know?"

       "Tell them you noticed maintenance working on the unstable waist chutes," Kim told her, "Repeat it back to me."

       "I got out in the unstable waste chute. I saw maintenance working on it."

       "And that's how you got the codes," Kim told her.

       "OK," Alexandra nodded, "Got the codes watching maintenance."

       "Good. Just remember that, and everything is fine," Kim told her.

       Alexandra nodded, "Darren . . . is he OK?"

       Kim nodded, "Yeah, he's fine . . . why?"

       "Haven't seen him, last thing I remember was jumping on him," Alexandra told her.

       "Marc is chasing everyone away. I had to have Kristie occupy him to get to you," Kim explained, "You sure you got your story straight?"

       Alexandra just barely nodded, "Pepe?"

       "Walter and Brianna got him, and sometimes he stays with me. Want me to get him for you?"

       "Yes," Alexandra murmured.

       Kim stood up, and started back towards the area that Walter and Brianna had set up as Munitions.

        "Hey guys," Kim greeted them as she walked into the small area, "Alex wants her dog. Any idea who has him right now?"

       "Darren," Brianna said, "He came and got him a little while ago."

       "Thanks," Kim said, as she started back towards where she'd seen Darren last. Sure enough, Darren was sitting there with Beth, Pepe in his lap.

       "Darren," Kim said as she walked up, "I need to take the dog to Alex."

       Darren looked up, "Is she OK?"

       "She just misses him," Kim told him, "He's a source of comfort to her. That is why you gave him to her, remember?"

       Darren almost flinched back at he acid tone of Kim's voice, "I'll take him to her."

       Kim drew in a deep breath, "OK - but don't pester her long. She needs to rest."

       Darren got up, and strode down the hall. Beth managed a nervous smile for Kim, "I've been wondering who owned the Chihuahua. Is Alex a good friend of Darren's?"

       Kim wanted to gag, Beth was so polite - and so ignorant.

       "They were lovers for a long time, and very close friends," Kim told her, "Pepe belongs to Alex, but we all take care of him when she's out on a mission."

       Beth took all this in, "He's nice - Darren . . . what is Alexandra like?"

       Kim really didn't want to get to know Beth too well. She certainly didn't want to like her. Not under the circumstances. But there was no real good reason to be rude, not right now.

       "She's strong willed, but kind. Very protective of her friends, very loyal . . . she's a cold op so she's aggressive, she has to be."

       "Is she pretty?" Beth asked, nervously.

       "Yes," Kim replied, unless she cuts off all her hair and dyes it black . . . "Tall, normally her hair is red, blue eyes, fair skinned, slender."

       Darren had just reached Alexandra's bedside when Marc came back in, Kristie strolling behind him, grinning ear to ear. Darren was almost afraid to ask what Kristie had done.

       "I was just delivering some mental therapy," Darren announced, holding up the Chihuahua.

       Pepe had been set down on Alexandra's stomach, but he walked right up her body, and snuggled down next to her head, somehow knowing to pick the shoulder that hadn't been injured. He sniffed her hair for a moment, then licked her cheek, and curled up into a little ball, resting his head on her good shoulder.

       Alexandra nuzzled Pepe for a moment, then drifted back to sleep.

       Marc sighed, "I never ever thought I'd be letting dogs into my clinic . . ."

       Hours later . . .

       Alexandra awoke to the sound of Pepe growling. She opened her eyes, but in the dark, she was just barely able to make out that someone was next to her bed, and reaching for the IV bag that hung above her bed from the pole. Alexandra knew immediately that it was Jonathan. She reached down under the sheet, and started to unscrew the IV Luer lock casing from the catheter Marc had put into her arm. She'd watched in fascination as he set up what seemed to be a screw lock IV system. She got the connection loose, then put her thumb over it to prevent it from spilling out. Then she nudged Pepe, and pretended to moan in her sleep, nuzzling the dog. He stopped growling, but only for a moment.

       Jonathan moved away from the bed, and left the little make shift hospital room.

       Alexandra waited a few moments, then sat up, feeling the room spin around her. Had she lost that much blood? Or was it something else? Maybe she'd caught that nasty little flu that was flying around Section lately.

        She gingerly eased herself onto her feet, painfully walking around the bed, testing her strength. it hurt like hell to walk, but she could do it. She pulled off the IV bag, and started back towards where she thought she'd seen the medical staff setting up their office area.

       "Marc," Alexandra whispered.

       Marc hadn't been expecting anyone to come up behind him. He started, and knocked over his coffee.

       "Jesus Alex! What the hell are you doing out of bed and sneaking up on me?"

       "Jonathan was just in my room, and he did something to my IV bag - I think he might have injected something into it, but I woke up while he was messing with it, so I unscrewed it."

       She handed him the bag, and then the tip that she'd been holding closed with her thumb. Marc quickly capped it off.

       "What the hell is Jonathan doing with your IV bag?" Marc asked as he started toward a lab area.

       Alexandra sat down on the stool he'd vacated, "Poisoning me."

       Marc stopped in his tracks, and looked at her, "You're not serious - are you?"

       Alexandra sighed, "Marc, how long have you been in Section?"

       "9 months," Marc replied.

       Alexandra managed a smile, "Welcome to our world. I'll bet you dinner there is some kind of poison in it."

       "Now your just trying to get a date with the gay guy again," Marc teased her, "sit tight."

       Alexandra waited for a few minutes, and then Marc came back into the room, "Alex . . ."

       She looked up at him, his expression was grave.

       "I was right, wasn't I?"

       Marc nodded "Yes."

       Kim yawned and stretched. She was pulling 16 hour shifts on comm, because half the comm staff was laid out with whatever flu was decimating section right now.

       Birkhoff sat a few feet away, and he was popping M&M's like they were going to stop production. Kim missed the days when she could eat candy like that. She turned her gaze back to her screen. She had a mission going live in half an hour. It was Darren and Tony's team. She knew that technically, it was Darren's team, but she always thought of it as Darren and Tony. Darren was one of those team oriented people - and he picked Tony's brain for opinions and suggestions.

       She looked up, and saw four of the operatives assigned to base security approaching comm.

       "Where was the last place the two of you saw Jonathan?" One of them asked.

       Kim and Birkhoff watched as more of the security detail appeared, heading for all the exits. Something was going on.

       "He was heading down to the south end a few minutes ago," Birkhoff said, "I can't pin point him in this place."

       "If he passes by - contact us on B," the lead security officer told him, "Don't alert him."

       Kim made a 'humph' sound, and looked at Birkhoff, "I bet I know who Carlson gave up."

       Birkhoff shook his head, "Carlson hasn't given up anything. Beth is still working on the decrypting those files."

       Kim shook her head, "You know, I'm not so sure I like the whole idea of Beth decrypting those files - considering who's been seeing her lately."

       "She's not like that," Birkhoff assured Kim.

       Kim sighed, "Wake up and look around Birkhoff, no one gets here because they're nice."

       "Would you do it?" Birkhoff asked her.

       "No," Kim defended herself, "But I wasn't sent to prison. I turned out to be useful collateral - remember?"

       "Whatever," Birkhoff said, "You just don't want to like her because she's dating Darren and Alex is not."

       "Alex made that choice," Kim reminded him, "I'm just looking at vested interest. Me and Kristie are not working on it because Alex is our friend. Beth works out of Data, she isn't a hacker. Alex was able to crack those codes, so Beth should be able to - and a lot faster than she has been."

       Birkhoff sighed, "Did you ever have any doubts about Alex?"

       "Not one," Kim replied, I even helped Alex and Walter cover their tracks, Kim thought to herself.

       They heard sounds of a scuffle, and a moment later, the four security men dragged Jonathan by comm, on their way to the detainment cells that Section had fashioned.

       "Want to make a bet?" Kim asked Birkhoff.

       "No," Birkhoff replied, "I didn't think Alex did it either."

       Nikita almost felt nauseated as she zipped her suitcase closed. The bell hop would be here any moment. A limousine was waiting for them.

       She felt Michael's hands slide around her waist, his lips pressed against the back of her neck. Nikita sighed deeply tilting her head, giving Michael's mouth free access to her. His mouth moved to the flesh just below her ear, kissing one of her most sensitive spots.

       "I love you Mrs. Samuelle."

       Nikita smiled. At least she had his name. At least they didn't to hide anymore.

       "I love you," Nikita replied, and turned her head, her lips brushing his, "Husband."

       Michael's hands tightened around her waist, holding her close for a few more moments. His eyes traveled around the room, a flood of memories imprinting permanently on his brain. The hours they'd spent in the bed, and just about every place else in the suite making love. They'd had so many meals on the patio, played in the enormous shower, spent hours soaking in the hot tub. He remembered seeing the awe in Nikita's eyes when they first arrived, the shear delight.

       The honeymoon might have been over, but the memories would remain forever. They could relive some of them in the nights to come, when they had some free moments.

       Alexandra reluctantly eased herself back into the wheel chair. At least this time it was only for a week. Marc wanted her leg to heal more before she started to use it again. She had Pepe settled in her lap, standing on his hind legs, his front legs propped on the arm rest of the chair. For the moment, he was profoundly interested in the movement of the motorized wheel chair. She knew it would fade. In half an hour, he'd be asleep again, or at least curled up in a ball and snuggling.

       "Remember, you're confined to Section," Marc told her, "I want you back here in an hour, you need to rest."

       She'd had all the rest she could stand. The files she'd stolen were still in decrypt. Jonathan had broken after a few hours, and Birkhoff had found some encoded transmission records on his computer. Alexandra knew that Section had enough evidence examined to know what had really happened, but she'd broke so many rules and regulation, and when she had someone check her abeyance status, she was still listed at level 2.

       She steered herself out onto the main floor, and caught site of Beth walking towards planning. Darren would be there, going over details for a mission he had tomorrow. Alexandra watched her as she walked by. Long silky dark brown hair, petite but with very full curves. She reminded Alexandra of a conservative mousy Anna.

       Alexandra caught her reflection in some glass. Her hair was cut unevenly, and though the black was starting to fade, she looked terrible, and she knew it. The standard med lab white draw string pants and tank top didn't do much for her either. But they were better than what she'd been wearing when Darren and Kristie caught her.

       Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Michael and Nikita walk onto the main floor. Michael was dressed in his standard black on black, Nikita wore a navy blue skirt and top outfit that would have fit well in any office. It was their usual section attire. As Alexandra watched, the two of them scanned the room quickly, and both of them stopped when their eyes came across her. Alexandra wished she could shrink into the floor.

       Nikita strode over quickly, "Alex?"

       Alexandra drew in a deep breath, and fought back tears. She would not allow herself to cry. She had to think about her future in Section, and a weakness couldn't be tolerated, not anymore.

       "Like my new do?" Alexandra joked.

       Nikita picked up Pepe when the little dog turned to her an wagged his tail. Alexandra looked over at Michael, seeing something like exasperation in his eyes.

       "I swear to god I didn't do this to my hair to get even with Section," Alexandra began, "But I want to hear all about the Bahamas first . . ."

       Alexandra wasn't about to tell Michael she was in abeyance. He'd find out soon enough on his own.

        Continue on to Shattered Reflections

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