Images of the past
Nikita drew the zipper closed, and then pressed down the Velcro overlay, securing the head piece. She hated working in biohazard suites. Judging from the grim set of Darren's mouth, he wasn't real thrilled with it either. Probably for the same reason's Nikita didn't. It was the necessity of it, the whole idea that they could be exposed. The concept of getting shot and killed always hung over their heads. But there was something sinister in the idea that some kind of chemical could infect and kill them too.
The entity that Schier Bemannen was purchasing the Ebola virus from was based in America. It was a private research facility. The owner was making a little cash on the side. They were going in at night. Security analysis showed that certain parts of the research facility may be rigged with explosives, and it was possible that the explosive's might be in the form of a toxic gas.
"What kind of bastard makes this shit?" Darren asked, drawing Nikita's zipper closed, and fixing her Velcro strip.
"I don't know," Nikita told him. She turned and looked across the van, making sure everyone was adequately protected.
"Make sure you're suit is sealed. If you have any trouble, tell me now," Nikita announced.
Everyone else had the same grim, determined expressions.
"Birkhoff, time to destination?" Nikita asked, turning to see him.
"Three minutes," the computer genius told her, "I need to be close to block the alarm frequency, so you'll have to be waiting in the bushes for a few minutes.
They waited in silence as the van pulled up, and to a stop. Everyone climbed out of the van, and started the short trek through the tree's, spreading out to surround the building. They squatted down in the brush, "Birkhoff, we're on perimeter
"30 more seconds Nikita," Birkhoff replied, his voice telling her he was intently working on it.
Everyone was silent.
"It's down," Birkhoff announced.
Five of them leapt up from their positions, and started towards the entrance. Nikita slid the scrambler into the lock, and set it to run. Moments later, there was a tell tale clicking sound, and the door released. They moved quickly down the hall. They knew exactly where the lab was supposed to be located. Again, they had to unscramble the lock to the lab.
Then began the search. Three of them photographed everything. Notes, the way it was set up. The chemicals on the shelf. Nikita and Darren went into the refrigerated cabinet, and carefully removed the samples of everything, and replaced them with the inert samples Section One supplied - something that they could track. They quickly scanned the labels, the machine printed out an exact duplicate to place on the inert sample. The air tight case was sealed up, and they were out of the building. The entire operation took 15 minutes.
Nikita secured the air tight container in a biohazard drum, and breathed a sigh of relief. Everyone started to peel off their suites after what they'd stolen was secured in the biohazard drum.
"Any one feel like they could really use a beer after that?" Darren asked the group at large, jokingly.
"A beer? Hell, I need a bottle of tequila," Ryan joked back, "all to myself."
The group chuckled.
"I'd rather work deep cover shit on psychopathic Satan worshipers than fuck with chemical weapons," someone else said.
Darren nodded, "Something menacing about chemical weapons, it's amazing what we invent to destroy, and what we can't invent to cure."
Med Lab, Alexandra's room . . . .
She was in that bedroom again, the late spring sun shining through the window. It was almost time for first period to start at their high school. But there was so much blood. It was warm, sticky, had an odd smell to it somehow - coppery almost. She felt it ooze between her fingers, soak into her cloths, and with each movement, there seemed to be more, and more and more . . .
" Lora!" she begged, almost not able to hear herself, over the sound of her own heart pounding, strong, and healthy, unlike her friends, " Hold on honey . . . Please, just hold on a little bit longer."
She felt for a pulse again, and found one, but it was getting weaker, and weaker. She grabbed at one of she shirts on the bed, and added it to the pile of blood soaked rags that she'd been trying to stem the flow of blood with. The wound in Lora's chest made another sucking noise, raking her nerves raw. She looked down at her friends face, so pale. The raggedy breaths were coming slower and slower now, and she knew, for certain, that her friend was going to die. She heard the sirens off in the distance, and knew they would arrive to late.
" Why?" she whispered, " God damn it!"
She felt for a pulse, and felt one small beat, and then . . . nothing. It was too long, to far in between. No gasps for air, the blood wasn't flowing as strong now . . .
" NO!" she yelled, shaking Lora, " NO!"
Then, the room was dark, and her hands were clean - clean of blood that is, for the moment. She was moving quietly through the house, moving into his bedroom, and raising the gun, aiming it . . . . BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
She emptied all 17 rounds, and stepped forward, watching the blood soak the bed sheets, pool around him, just like Lora's . . . . and when she looked up at the face, his face, it wasn't him - it was Lora.
" NO!" Alexandra yelled, and sat up, drenched in a cold sweat, and she looked at her hands. No blood. The bed sheets weren't stained red. There was no coppery smell, and her fingers didn't stick together from plasma desperately trying to do it's job. Her arm was in a cast, as well as her leg.
Oh my god, Lora! she thought to herself, the memory of what had happened to her friend slamming back into her.
The room tilted, and Alexandra grabbed for the little kidney shaped basin, and she promptly tossed up everything in her stomach. A thousand images swam around in her mind as she heaved until nothing came up. She vaguely heard one of the medical techs asking her if she was ok.
Of course I'm not ok dimwit! I've got broken bones, and I'm remembering the worst moment in my life! She thought it but didn't say it. Alexandra took a few steadying breaths, then "I . . . yeah . . . I am now . . . something didn't agree with me . . ."
Kristie hadn't been a guest in Madeline's office a lot, but she'd been in Section long enough to know that if it wasn't a mission, it wasn't good. Even if it was a mission, it was not really good.
So she was allowed in, and she took the seat the Madeline gestured for her to take. Kristie had only been in here a handful of times, but the room still got her attention. Warm, yet somehow still cold. The lighted wall with the bonsai tree's, various plants growing around the room. Madeline's hobby was living plants. Interesting hobby, considering what she did the rest of the time was to plot how to exterminate life.
Madeline was dressed in one of her professional business suits. Kristie remembered when that was her usual attire. But Kristie didn't work in an office anymore. She had no real need for business suits much now. Kristie missed that part of her life.
"You handled the mission in Germany well," Madeline told her, "Normally, we don't begin Valentine op training for a year after you've reached operative status. But we're short operatives, and you seem to handle it well."
Kristie knew exactly what Valentine Op training was. It was seducing your target, spending time with them to manipulate them, and get what you needed out of them. It required time, and usually ended in devastating the target. There were little opportunities to retreat, like she and Alexandra had been able to do in Germany. Kristie remembered Alexandra saying something about this training looming in front of her. She wasn't looking forward to it.
"OK . . . so do I go somewhere for it?" Kristie asked her.
"No," Madeline told her, "Stephen will handle this aspect of your training. It will be done over the course of a few weeks, inbetween other missions. This training takes an emotional toll on operatives. When you reach the point where it seems to be too much, I want you to know the door is open."
Kristie almost laughed out loud. Hell would freeze over before she went to Madeline for anything.
"OK," Kristie said calmly.
"You're going to see some conflict between Michael and Stephen over this. Michael feels a certain . . . responsibility about your presence here. He and Stephen have had conflicts in the past. It will be difficult to stay focused. Remember, this is training alone. You can't afford to get emotionally involved with another operative here."
Kristie nodded, "OK." Yeah right! We're all doing it anyway Madeline, and I'd bet 10 bucks your doing Operations!
Madeline handed her a CD, "I want you to view this. I'm sure your familiar with some of the material, but a refresher course doesn't hurt."
Kristie took the CD, "DVD?"
"Yes," Madeline told her, "Stephen will find you later today."
Kristie got up and left. She'd watch the video in her quarters.
It was a short biology lesson on physiological responses, and a video on common foreplay techniques. Kristie almost dozed off. She'd never had much use for foreplay herself. Either she was up for it, and wanted it now, or she didn't. There was no inbetween.
She finished the CD, thinking she'd seen more entertaining porn flicks when she was in highschool. Just then there was a knock in her door.
"Come in!" She called, not getting up from her comfortable spot on her bed.
The door slid open, and Stephen filled the entranceway. Tight jeans, flannel shirt unbuttoned to reveal a white shirt.
"Have you had a chance to see the CD yet?" He asked her.
"Yep," she told him, "Highschool biology and foreplay, I've seen more entertaining porno's."
He gave her a dazzling smile, "It's not mean to be entertaining, it's information, the entertainment comes in application."
"Hm," she said, "So is that what you wear when you come to girls room to seduce her?"
He looked down at his cloths, "Who say's I'm seducing her?"
"Entertainment comes in application, and Madeline told me you'd be training me. I've heard about Valentine Op training from a few folks," She told him, "So where do we do this? Here? The light isn't so great, but it's a great view for Madeline."
Stephen laughed, "Are you worried about a being watched?" he asked her, walking over and sitting on the end of her bed. The door snapped shut behind him.
"Not particularly," She told him, "So are you some type of expert in this stuff?"
Stephen reached up and pulled her hair from behind her ear, rubbing it between his thumb and index finger, "I've never had any complaints."
She raised an eyebrow, "But would they have complained?"
He chuckled, "Kristie, it's not hard to tell if a woman is enjoying herself. She's either climbing the walls and going insane, or she's not."
She felt his fingers brush her cheek as his hand dropped to hers. He grasped her hand gently, and turned the palm out. He pressed his thumb into the top of her palm, making her fingers spread out.
"The first thing," He said, his voice gentle, easy, "Is to find out what your partner likes."
He took one finger into his mouth, and drew it out slowly, gently sucking.
Kristie felt her pulse jump, but she put on a face that said, boredom. She sighed, and watched him.
He started on the next finger, and then on a third.
"It's not my fingers that have all the nerve endings," she told him matter-a-factly.
She turned her hand, grasping his, and used him for leverage to get up to her knees. She climbed over his thighs, straddling him.
She pulled her hand out of his, and gently slid her hands into his hair, her thumb along the base of his jaw. She moistened her lips with her tongue, and brushed them across his, and then came back, parting his with hers, just a little bit, then she slipped her tongue into his mouth, tasting him, and daring him at the same time. His mouth felt good on hers, tender yet firm, demanding yet gentle.
He kissed her back, his hands sliding down her back to cup under her butt. Kristie ground her hips into his, rubbing him with her body. She felt her own body react as he started to harden under her.
She reached inbetween them, and started to yank the buttons on his shirt open, pushing it off his shoulders. She broke the kiss only long enough to pull his T-shirt off of him, and she started to yank open his jeans, and she grasped him, enjoying the feel of velvet over steel.
She sat back, stripped off her shirt and bra, pulled her jeans down and off, not wasting any time. The last few times she'd had sex in Germany hadn't been very satisfying for her, and Stephen had haunted her dreams late at night. She'd been racking her brain on how she was going to get to him, and how, here it was, ready, willing and available.
"Where is the condom?" she demanded, pulling his jeans down over his hips.
Stephen jammed his hand into his pocket, and pulled out the foil packet. Kristie snatched it out of his hands, and ripped it open.
Stephen was about to tell her to slow down, this wasn't a race, but one look at the intent expression on her face and he changed his mind. He slid in his hand inbetween her thighs, his fingers parting her, and he found her wet and ready, now.
Kristie bit back the moan that threatened to escape her throat. His fingers felt so good on her flesh, firm and strong. She was already rolling the condom down his hardened shaft, and moving over him. She pulled his hands up to her breasts, silently telling him that was where she wanted them. He cupped her, his thumbs working over her erect sensitive nipples. She shivered with the pleasure of it.
Kristie guided him inside her, sinking down on him hard and fast. She gasped, stopping, enjoying the tight stretch, feeling him swell a little more. A soft moan escaped her lips, and she rocked back, easing his shaft out almost to the tip, then back in. Back and forth, back and forth, enjoying the long missed sensations of having someone pulsing and hard inside her. Each movement was precision for her, until she felt that familiar tightening and rush, and her release came fast and hard. It was enough to trigger his orgasm, and he gasped under her.
She took a few long steadying breaths. He started to pull her down to his chest, and she wanted to curl up into his chest, but she didn't. She'd taken over and mounted him, rode him and used him this way for a reason.
She climbed off of him, and crawled back to the head of the bed, and picked up her bottle of soda, and stretched her legs out, leaned back against the wall and relaxed, taking a big gulp.
Stephen watched her. He'd wanted to pull her into his arms, hold her, surprised at how quick and violent the whole experience was. He was surprised she'd came actually.
"Well, that was certainly more entertaining than my fingers," she told him, "So when do the lessons start?"
Stephen sat up, still surprised at how the whole thing had happened. She had that cocky half invitation, half intimidation look on her face. He was instantly irritated.
"If you do that with a target, you're not going to get what you want out of them," Stephen said, grabbing up his jeans.
"When it was a target in Germany, he came back for a few nights in a row, because I figured out real quick what he wanted. Today, I just wanted to get off. It's been a long time since I had a good hard fuck. The German guy had a small dick." Kristie told him.
She got up and strutted across the room, and reached into the shower, turning the water on, "When do the lessons start?"
Stephen looked at her, feeling his temper rise. She'd taken control of the situation to prove a point. That she could turn the tables on him if she wanted to.
"Tomorrow," Stephen said, "Don't think for a moment that just because you get aggressive and act like a paid whore, that it's going to work. It won't. It takes more than a sex to get people to talk."
She shrugged, "I didn't feel like talking though, and it seems to me that I did something right, you weren't exactly soft."
She stepped into the shower, and yanked the curtain closed behind her.
Stephen hit the key, and the door snapped open, and he stepped out into the hallway, pissed and irritated that he let her get the upper hand.
He passed Michael in the hall, and seeing the calm, cool, collected Michael only pissed him off even more. Kristie was not going to be as easy to seduce as Stephen thought.
Stephen took the steps up to Madeline's office two at a time, and wished to god he didn't have to report to her.
He punched in his code, and walked into her office.
Madeline set the remote down, "What happened?"
Stephen managed a tight smile, "She apparently does not enjoy foreplay."
Madeline nodded, and pointed the remote to the screen, and Stephen saw the last few moments of the encounter replayed, in front of his eyes. He knew Madeline would be watching though.
"She's looking right at the camera," Madeline told him, "She took over to challenge you, and she won."
"Yes, she did," Stephen told Madeline, "I miscalculated."
"Yes. You did," Madeline replied, "She's direct and to the point. She has no use for foreplay - and just tried to prove that she can best you, and I'd say she did."
Stephen nodded, "Yes. How do you teach someone to enjoy foreplay Madeline?"
Madeline cocked her head to the side, watching the scene play out on the screen, "She doesn't have to enjoy it, she just has to learn how to do it, and be convincing. Don't let her take control next time."
No shit, Stephen thought to himself.
"At any rate, you have a mission briefing in an hour," Madeline told him.
"Cheshire cat grin," Alexandra commented quietly, as Kristie sauntered over, "What have you been up to?"
Michael had been examining Alexandra's scores on the computer exams. He looked up to see Kristie, grinning like the cat who ate the canary. She nodded to Michael, her expression positively gloating. Michael was suddenly worried.
"Just proving a point," Kristie said, dropping into a chair next to Alexandra, "How are your lessons going?"
The redhead managed a smile, "We'll know in a few minutes - Michael's getting my scores now."
Stephen walked across the main floor. He glanced over, his gaze settling on Kristie. She gave him a smug smile.
"What did you do?" Alexandra asked her, her voice conveying concern.
Kristie laughed, deep and throaty, "They started my valentine op training. I kinda took over my first lesson."
Alexandra snickered quietly, "Jesus Christ! What did you do?"
"I pushed him down, climbed on, and rode until I was done. He expected to drive me insane with his amazing skill, and I didn't give him the chance," Kristie explained, still grinning.
Michael felt his stomach turn over into knots. Kristie was playing with fire, and didn't know it.
"Kristie," Michael started quietly.
"Michael," she replied, "I know exactly what he's up to. Relax, I can handle him."
Michael didn't think she knew at all. How could she know that Stephen wanted to twist her around his little finger, to get even with Michael for sins Michael never meant to commit?
"What is he up to?" Michael asked her.
"He wants to get even for Angela, and he wants to use me, since you and I are pals. Relax .I can handle him," Kristie told him, grinning, "It's sex - I never let it get personal."
Michael almost gaped at her. She was getting information somewhere. But Section was rife with rumors.
"It's been so long since I had sex, I'm beginning for forget who's on top," Ryan quipped, looking up from the computer screen.
Alexandra almost said 'Me too' but she stopped herself. She didn't know if she should admit to regaining her memory just yet.
Michael watched Alexandra from several feet away, waiting for her scores to come up. Something was different today. She'd been very relaxed, very eager to learn the last few weeks. Extremely curious about everything. Today she was quiet.
"Well?" Alexandra asked him, "Can I still learn things?"
Michael watched her face. There was something in her eye's, some kind of sadness . . .
Michael looked down at the list silently. 100, 100, 100 . . .
"Yes," Michael said evenly, "You scored perfectly on all three tests."
Birkhoff suddenly looked up, "No way."
Alexandra looked over at him, "Not bad for someone who is computer illiterate."
Birkhoff looked at her, his expression guilty, "I don't . . . no way."
Alexandra shrugged, "Well, I'd love to sit here and gloat, but I have a lesson on the finer points of gun powder as an aphrodisiac courtesy of Walter."
She pressed the small bar forward, engaging the motorized wheel chair.
The intercom beeped drawing their attention, and a moment later, Madeline's voice came through, "Michael, come to planning."
Everyone watched Michael quickly cross the room and ascend the stairs, heading up to Planning.
"Is there a mission in the works Birkhoff?" Kristie asked, leaning back in the chair.
"Yeah," Birkhoff said, "We got a possible sighting of a terrorist we've been after for years
Kristie watched him as he quickly typed in several commands. He was loading up the Sim's, and sending them to Madeline's office.
Kristie turned, and saw Nikita striding across the room as well, today being the first day her limp was truly gone.
When Nikita got there, Michael was already there with Madeline and Operations. A holo projection was up.
"Sascha Varishna was sighted at a club - twice," Operations said, "The same club -* the contact say's he's a regular there in the last month."
Nikita frowned, "Didn't we go after him a few years ago? I thought loud busy area's were not his scene."
Madeline nodded, "They're not. Our profile could be wrong. It's been a couple years. The profiles are subject to data, if the available data is incorrect, or out of date, our profiles are incorrect."
Michael had been studying the picture, "He's drinking heavily a lot in the last few months. Water retention in the face."
Nikita looked at the old and new picture. It looked like the same man, a man who had gained a few pounds, and had been living hard.
"I've started to pull a team together. Do surveillance from inside the club. If it is Varisha, we want him," Operations told them, "You'll have to stage and prep the team on the plane."
Alexandra stayed back, still confined to the wheel chair as operatives checked out weapons from Walter. Everyone was excited. The person they were going after was big apparently. Darren and Kristie were going, so was Ryan. Birkhoff was going as comm support. There were several other people going as well. Walter had commented that it was an unusually large team.
They weren't dressed in mission gear either. They were going to a club. It was dresses and jackets. Kristie had on a black satin sheath dress and heels. Nikita had on a two piece outfit, a snug crop top and snug skirt in ice blue. Michael wore his usual black on black. Darren had on a crisp white high collared shirt under a black blazer and slacks.
"I expect to turn around and see you there, in that jade green dress," Darren said to her quietly, as he slipped his gun into the shoulder holster, and stored two more clips into the sheath.
Suddenly the image of shimmery jade green material flashed in her mind. Alexandra closed her eye's. She could see herself and Nikita, they were in a club someplace . . .
"I have a jade green dress . . ." Alexandra said softly.
"Sort of - it's in Sections wardrobe - but it's one you always wear. It's like the black one Kristie's wearing," Darren told her, "and these high heels that aren't more than straps, sole and heel."
He smiled, "Wish us luck Red!"
He squeezed her shoulder, and raced out after the group heading for mission loading.
Alexandra watched them leave, and for about the 100 time, wished she was out of the wheel chair. She was tired of standing by, and just watching. In the last six weeks her body has essentially heeled, except for the still knitting bones. That was the only thing that kept her still in her chair, and not in the gym training. Michael was running out of things to train her with - that did not involve physical activity. He'd even started having her work on strategy lessons, even though that was something that Darren was currently working on with Nikita.
"I wonder if this is enough to keep me out of my daily counseling session with Madeline?" Alexandra asked Walter, once the last of the operatives were gone.
He chuckled, "Depends on how busy she is."
Alexandra sighed, and reached for a gun to break down and clean, "Walter, off the record - do you think Madeline would have had me canceled if I hadn't lost my memory? If I was just waiting for physical recovery?"
Walter had reached for a gun he was working on, and stopped suddenly, looking up at her over the magnifying glass. He looked at her for a moment. She looked down, unable to meet his eye's. Walter watched a tear trickle down her cheek.
"Awe honey," he said gruffly, grabbing up a clean rag and walking around the table. He handed her the rag, "How much?"
She took a deep steadying breath, and then said in a defeated voice that Walter remembered all too well, "I had this dream last night . . . about when Lora died - and when I killed Jose . . . I've had that dream hundred's of times . . . and today - everything triggers a memory now. I picked up my camera, and a million images slam into me. I went into Michael's office, and I remember all those times I was in his office . . . all these images . . . when I went to Birkhoff's station today to take that test - I could hear gunfire in my head - from when Section was breached . . ."
She wiped at her eye's, and looked up at Walter, "I was sitting in that chair - wearing those thigh high boots, black leggings, black crop top, all those silver chains, red lipstick . . . I shrugged off my coat and told you to massage my shoulders . . ."
Walter nodded. He remembered that day.
"I don't know what to do! Should I tell Madeline - or just keep going like I don't remember?!" Alexandra asked him.
Walter took a deep breath, "I wish I knew a good way out of this . . . but she'll find out eventually. Logic stands to reason that since you can do the job - she wouldn't cancel you."
Alexandra nodded, "But she also told me I was six months out of abeyance," Alexandra told him, "I don't want to die."
Walter patted her shoulder, "Honey - Nikita was two weeks out of abeyance the first three years she was here."
Michael was sitting at table, with Nikita on his lap, playing the role of a couple together, out for a night in the club. His gaze swept the room again. Darren and Kristie were on the dance floor, Tom was hitting on a woman on the far side of the club, and Ryan was at the bar.
"We've still got a few hours," Nikita commented absently, "He still could show . . ."
She shifted on his lap a little bit, reaching for her drink. She felt Michael's hand on her hip tighten a little bit.
She was about to ask him what was wrong, when she felt something hard under her bottom. A smile spread across her face. She wiggled again, and heard Michael hiss a little.
"Nikita," he hissed softly, "Stop it."
She looked at him, a devilish glint in her eyes. She shifted again, just to torment him. She heard Michael take a deep steadying breath.
"Oh my god, who taught our target how to dress?" Kristie's voice sounded in everyone's ears, "Fashion Police to the bar please!"
Nikita smirked, and turned to look, but she caught site of slight frown on Michael's face. He needs to get a sense of humor, she thought to herself, and shifted again, effectively rubbing her bottom against his groin.
Michael dug his fingers into her hip, in a plea, and a warning. Nikita ignored him.
Their target was obviously intoxicated. He had on some kind of a 70's retro outfit, bell bottoms, zip front shirt, in some kind of yellow and orange polyester material. He had a woman with him who was equally tactlessly dressed, and equally intoxicated.
"This is a joke right?" Nikita laughed softly, "Is Madeline watching from somewhere to see how we're going to handle this guy?"
Nikita turned her gaze on Michael, "I will never ever bitch about your black on black ever again."
The all held their positions as best they could, until it became obvious that their target was going to be thrown out.
Nikita jumped off Michael's lap, and she grabbed up his hand, maintaining their role, "Michael and I will be outside. Van 2, pull up to the corner and stand by. Darren and Kristie, fall in behind our target and his girlfriend, Ryan and Tom, watch for stragglers and security."
Michael would have smiled if they weren't on a mission. Nikita stepped right up and took control of things - just like a level 5 operative. Since he had been her mentor - it would have only been natural for her to defer to him. But she hadn't - Section One would be pleased.
They left through the front door, and Michael pushed Nikita up against the brick wall, a few feet down from the door, trapping her between his thighs. His hands moved to her rib cage, sliding up under her arms, and his thumbs slid inside her dress, rubbing the outside curve of her breasts. She took in a sharp breath, surprised.
Michael's look said everything, 'Turn about is fair play!'
Nikita gave him a heated look, and turned her head, "Target exiting the club."
"We're two feet behind," Darren said as quietly as he could.
Michael and Nikita sprang up from the wall, the van charged forward to where the target was standing on the corner. The side door of the van suddenly flew open. Darren and Kristie grabbed the target and shoved him in, Michael grabbed the girlfriend and shoved her in after the target, and all four of them quickly climbed in after. The van was speeding off before the door was closed, and before the bouncer could finish yelling for help.
Walter kept watch while Alexandra went through all of Section one that she possible could. She was quiet most of the time. Her body language was tense, but she quickly changed as soon as someone happened upon them. At one point, Jonathan walked by and stopped to talk to her. Walter kept her out of reach. He didn't want Jonathan touching her. Jonathan left and Alexandra took a few deep steady breaths, "Oh god Walter . . ." she whispered.
Walter stepped in front of her, "Honey, maybe this is enough for now."
She looked up at him, her eye's dark blue pools of agony. Walter expected her to argue. Instead she nodded, and let him wheel her back to his station. By unspoken agreement, he was going to watch over her for the next couple of hours . . .
Madeline watched through the video feed as Alexandra sat up, her breathing heavy. She reached up with her good hand, sliding her fingers through her hair, finger combing it back. She blinked a few times, glancing around, her gaze flickering up to the camera, and her expression became calm, determined.
She's regaining her memory Madeline thought to herself.
Madeline continued to watch for a few minutes. Alexandra struggled to get the protective sleeves on her two casts, and eased herself into the wheel chair. She grabbed up the towel and sweats off the bed side table, and wheeled herself towards the bathroom.
Somehow, Alexandra just knew Madeline had been watching her. It was almost as if she could feel her chocolate brown eye's measuring her as she sat there. Now, in the relative privacy of the bathroom, Alexandra had a moment to relax. Two more weeks, she was out of these casts . . . and it was going to be a long two weeks . . .
She was able to balance herself on her good leg and the railing in the shower, and she scrubbed her hair and skin until she felt that tingling sensation, and let the hot water beat down on her, chasing the demons of her nightmares away.
I should just go tell her, Alexandra thought to herself, It's the last thing she'd expect me to do - or anyone for that matter. She'll find out anyway, she has to know that her experiment is not working. What is she gonna do? Your guinea pig isn't a very good guinea pig Madeline . . . .
Alexandra had not been to Madeline's office since the day she woke up in medlab after the accident. She didn't remember what it looked like, but she knew she didn't want to maneuver the wheelchair around the catwalks. So she managed to get herself dressed, wheeled herself out of the bathroom, and wheeled herself down the hall, and into the room that was her quarters. She hit the button on the intercom and asked to be patched through to Madeline's office.
"I need to talk to you . . . ." Alexandra began, and it didn't escape her how it would sound to someone on the outside looking in. 'I need to talk to you' as if I trust you, but I don't. I just can't risk you finding out the wrong way . . . am I making the right decision?
Alexandra looked over at the bed and all the photographs spread out on it, the bed which she hadn't been sleeping in. With her leg and arm in a cast, med lab wanted to keep a close eye on her. They were convinced she'd fallout of bed and rebreak them. But that didn't stop Alexandra from getting out of bed on her own . . . maybe I'll just not go in there tonight, and that will be the end of it . . .
Alexandra knew she had the pictures of her and Darren together on the bottom of the pile. She didn't want anyone walking in and seeing that one. She wondered if she'd remember that night more, if she saw the photo now . . . but that experiment would have to wait. Madeline just might walk in at an inopportune moment. Alexandra didn't want to be even the slightest bit rattled when Madeline came for their little chat. So her daily browse through the world recorded in black and white would wait till later. Alexandra busied herself with a lesson on her computer. A strategy lesson Michael had designed for her . . .
She didn't have to wait long. Madeline was knocking on the opened door to announce herself minutes later.
"How are you feeling this morning?" Madeline asked her, watching the redhead's face carefully.
The smile the Madeline saw on Alexandra's face was an expression that Madeline had seen on the younger redhead's lips more than once. But a smile that Madeline hadn't seen since before the mission in Germany. A touch of sarcasm, challenge, defiance, confidence she didn't always feel. . .
"Enlightened," Alexandra replied, her tone calm and measured. She held up a picture. It was Alexandra, Nikita and Madeline. Madeline was on Walter's lap, Nikita on one side of Walter, Alexandra on the other. Walter had his arm around Alexandra's and Nikita's shoulders.
"It was a last minute Christmas party, Operations wasn't there. Gail and Birkhoff were - Michael wore a green silk shirt. Darren picked me up from medlab right before. Walter made a game out of catching all the women under the mistletoe," Alexandra told her.
Madeline watched her face, calm, controlled.
"When did you start to remember?" Madeline asked her.
"Yesterday morning - I woke up from a dream, one I somehow know I had a million times before - the day Lora died, the night I killed Jose. Ever since then, everything I see triggers another memory," Alexandra told her.
"This is unfortunate," Madeline sighed.
Alexandra raised an eyebrow, "Are you going to cancel me now?"
Again, Madeline watched the redhead's face. Calm, determination, a little fear - but she wasn't going to let it rule her . . .
"What you will eventually remember Alex," Madeline began, "Is that Operatives are canceled when they are not longer effective. I am told that you'll be in physical therapy for about 6 weeks, after your cast is off in two weeks. Unless you can't handle the emotional strains, I see no reason to cancel you."
The older woman stood up to leave.
"This must ruin your experiment," Alexandra commented, "Did you anticipate this?"
Madeline gave her one of her infamous Mona Lisa smiles, "I knew that there was always a risk that your memory would return. Perhaps if I had taken you out of a familiar environment, you may not have ever remembered."
Alexandra waited until she'd heard the tell tale tap tap tap tap tap tap of Madeline's high heels far down the hall, and she reached for her photographs, sifting through them, searching out the ones that had been taken of her and Darren, together.
Walter was waiting when the van arrived. Tom and Ryan disappeared right away, nodding to Walter. Darren waited while Michael, Nikita and Kristie got off. Walter had asked him to hold on a minute.
Darren's heart was in his throat. He was afraid. It had to be Alex. Why else would Walter want to stop him, and wait for Michael and Nikita?
"Should I stay or go?" Kristie asked.
"You're her friend too," Walter said, "You might as well stay. Alex is getting her memory back, in bits and pieces. Madeline knows, Operations knows. They're not pissed, but they can't be happy either. Alex is saying she's fine, but I'm not so sure."
Darren felt his stomach turn over and churn, threatening to toss up what little was in there.
"Where is she?" Darren asked him, his voice betraying his worry.
"She's been assisting Birkhoff for the last two hours," Walter told him.
Darren took off, and Kristie went with him, matching his urgent strides.
"What are you seeing?" Nikita asked him.
"The typical I will chew up and spit out whatever you throw at me Alex smile," Walter told them, "She was rattled yesterday - today she's handling it better, but every now and then I can just see it in her face, that she's getting overwhelmed."
Alexandra turned and saw Darren and Kristie striding across the main floor towards her. For a moment, she felt like she'd been slapped in the face. Strides matched, they looked like they made a good team. That used to be me! Alexandra thought to herself . . .
Alexandra looked back at the screen. She had another 5 minutes before the team she was monitoring for went live . . .
"Hey," Darren said gently, despite the obvious tension that his body was betraying that he felt.
"We heard your tripping down memory lane," Kristie said quickly.
"Bits and pieces," Alexandra told them, "I'm ok. Walter probably ambushed you in the hall. Madeline's not gonna cancel me unless I can't return to full proficiency."
"So you're doing ok then," Darren said, his voice now betraying his anxiety.
Alexandra's eyes looked past him up at the glass tower that normally served as the source for a majority of the tension in this place, "Yeah."
Darren glanced around, squatting down in front of her, grasping her hands within his own, "You're sure?"
She nodded, "Yeah, I am. Go debrief, and come see me."
Nikita stood on the observation deck, still dressed in the same dress that she'd spent the last 36 hours in. Alexandra was still at the comm station. Michael was behind her, discussing something with Operations. It wasn't something that concerned her. Something about a recruit that Michael had been working with for months.
Alexandra was engrossed in monitoring the team. Darren had stood over her shoulder for a moment, then left, probably to go shower and clean up. Nikita was concerned about what was going to happen with them next.
Operations left, and Michael stood back from Nikita a few feet.
"Madeline says that she's handling things well," Michael told her.
Nikita nodded, "I was wondering how much more hell it was possible to put a person through."
Michael knew that was Nikita's heart talking, more than anything else. She got attached to material sometimes. Most of the time, in different degrees. But he'd done it too . . .
"A priest once told me that god doesn't give anyone more than they can handle," Michael said gently.
Nikita's head snapped around, "I thought you didn't believe in god."
Michael didn't answer right away, then said, "She does."
* * *
The small whoosh of air accompanied the closing of the electronic door of Madeline's office. Kristie descended the stairs and took a seat in one of the rigid chairs in front of the somber woman behind the desk.
Madeline carefully and gracefully set the dainty tea cup down on the desktop, next to a manila folder. The latter, she spun toward Kristie and beckoned her to slide closer to view it. Kristie did as asked, resting her forearms on the edge of the desk as she lifted and opened the proffered folder.
A beautiful set of gray-blue eyes stared out from what at first seemed a model's head shot. A second glance at the bottom of the photo showed Operative codes and credentials, and Kristie knew that he was one of theirs. Her eyes wondered back to the photo, and the beautiful man pictured there. Blond hair, flowed over broad shoulders, soft strong lips, high cheekbones, squared jaw, and a slight growth of beard, completed the package. His eyes, easily the most intriguing feature, kept drawing Kristie's gaze back in. Flipping to the second page, more shots, hair slicked into a ponytail, full shots in street clothes, jeans and tee-shirt, all the way to the full tux shot at the bottom held her rapt attention for nearly five minutes. Her eyes scanned the personal stats on the third page, and finally, she lifted her dark blue eyes to Madeline's chocolate ones.
"A Valentine Op, no doubt. And, if you say no, you're either lying, or he's being misused and underappreciated." Kristie held the cold stare with one of her own that she had been working very hard to perfect, carefully studying Michael when she could.
"Very good. You're picking up on this quickly. He is indeed a Valentine, one of the best we have, and he will be continuing the training that Stephen started with you."
"Why? Where's Stephen going? Is he being transferred again already? He just got here." All of this came out in a rush, quickly destroying the facade of calm that she had tried to present.
"You're showing quite a fondness for him already aren't you? He's being sent out on a mission. He'll only be out for a few weeks, but we have several missions that will require this type of personnel. We need to get you up to speed quickly, not that I think you'll need as long as others to become proficient at the required skills."
"I think I've proven myself in that area already, and as far as being fond of anyone around here, I have been given excellent advice from some of the more experienced Operatives. Don't get close to anyone, and especially don't fall in love. I'm taking that advice Madeline. Now if only everyone else around here would do the same."
"What you showed me in that room the other day was control of a man, but you also showed me more than you think you did. And, in time, you'll admit that to yourself, if not to me."
Kristie pasted the blank stare back into place, knowing that Madeline was not one to play head games with.
"All right Madeline, when I prove myself with this new man, will the training be over?"
"You will not conduct yourself in the same manner that you did with Stephen. There will be no rushing into it, or through it. This is seduction training, not a how-to guide to quick orgasms. And, the training is never over in Section One. Is all that understood?" Madeline gave her Mona Lisa smile, eyes half-lidded, and picked up her tea once again.
"Yes Ma'am, " Kristie used the normally respectful address, but tinged it with sarcasm, letting it convey to Madeline that she was using it to answer an elder of hers, not necessarily a better. Kristie missed the 'at first shocked' then amused look on Madeline's face. She had risen from her chair, and was already nearing the door. She waited patiently as it slid open, and exited without a backward glance.
Nikita saw a slight smile tug at the corner of Michael's mouth, and followed his eyes. She saw Kristie stalking toward Walter's station, anger plain to see in her walk. Nikita caught Michael's eyes, and asked him a silent question with her own. He let his fingers graze hers just slightly as he turned toward his office. She followed, knowing that privacy for the conversation was what he sought. She waited for him to settle into his seat, deactivate the surveillance in the room, and open his laptop. All this done, she rolled forward, and steepled her fingers under her chin, smiling just slightly. Michael's eyes met hers, and she saw that it was her Michael, not the machine man who looked at her from within those green depths.
"So? What's the grin for?"
"Just seeing that well worn path being used again takes me back."
Nikita looked at him, confusion etched on her face.
"What well worn path would that be?"
"Haven't you ever noticed how Walter serves as a sort of Dear Abby around here? The path from Madeline's office to Walter's station became one of a certain blonde's favorite routes for her first two years here. Now, seeing another feisty woman walking the same path brought back a lot of memories."
He stood, walking to the window, opening the blinds just enough to view Walter's area and it's occupants.
"She is just such a bitch Walter, I can't believe that she accused me of having a thing for Stephen! Of all people, he is such a pompous ass!"
"Maybe she's just saying what a lot of people are seeing, Wild thing. You'll notice that the ones who see those type of things first, are usually in the same positions themselves. It's like they have a radar to pick up on a certain body heat fluctuation or an increase of pheromones."
Kristie felt a blush creep onto her cheeks, and Walter puffed up in answer to traitorous body's reaction and the validation that if afforded him.
"Got it in one, Walter. You're good, but, you already knew that didn't you?"
"I've been called fantastic, but, at my age, you take every compliment that you can get!"
"Thanks Walter, it's nice to know that you can cool my jets and get me focused again. I'm sure more than one trainer around here would like to have that certain talent."
"Oh baby, they have talents of their own, but you have a few to counter them with."
Four pair of eyes turned to see Operations crossing the main floor with a stranger. The sheer presence of the man who walked beside the Satan of Section was enough to stop traffic, and a weird sort of silence ensued as they climbed the stairway to the upstairs perch where Ops lorded over them. Nikita turned to Michael, who had been watching carefully to see her reaction to the man. He had seen this one's file, and he knew what he was here for, but not who. Nikita blushed slightly, showing Michael that Tyler's visible charms had pulled even his lady's eyes for a moment. He was not surprised.
"Whoa." Kristie heard it slide from her lips, powerless to stop it.
"You said a mouthful there kid. He's a big one isn't he? And that hair, the same shade as my Sugar's. Tyler Lupus, I've heard about him. Wonder who he's here for?"
"Here for? What do you mean Walter?" Kristie wanted to know exactly what Walter had heard and what he knew.
"He's a Valentine Op, really good from what I hear. He's probably here to usher some sweet young thing through her training. Hope whoever she is, she has a strong constitution."
"I do." Kristie said, then hearing her name called over the PA she started towards Operations office before Walter even had time to close his gaping mouth.
Michael and Nikita watched Tyler start up the stairs towards Operation's loft, and then, only moments later, heard Kristie paged and saw her leaving Walter's station to head in the same direction. Michael slowly shook his head, watching a nightmare begin. He had been instrumental in getting Stephen sent away for a few days, to help give Kristie some breathing room, and let her distance herself from him once again, but now, he saw that he may have sent a young woman in a slow decent, into a swirling tailspin.
Tyler leaned comfortably against the counter in the loft, looking down over Section, and pondering his bizarre career that had been flung upon him. Normally emotionally detached from his assignments, and basically everyone else, he was intrigued at his body's reaction when Kristie entered the room. Operations and Madeline stood off to the side, in quiet conversation, awaiting her arrival. The fact that she was nearly silent when she did come in, allowed the pair of operatives to size one another up before they took note of her presence.
Tyler felt his skin tingle, and his ears seemed to pick up an unusual vibration. Looking in the direction of the door now, he was amazed that none of the three trained professionals had heard a mere novice come in. Rather, he had felt her.
She regarded him with a look of detachment, and perhaps slight amusement. Running one hand through the long strawberry blond hair, she leaned casually against the doorfame in patient refrain.
"You wanted to see me?" Kristie spoke quietly, but did not miss the small jerk that moved Operation's shoulders. She had actually been able to sneak up on him. Either he was getting old, or he was slipping. She felt a sly smile creep into her lips, and made it vanish quickly.
"Ah, Kristie, yes. Tyler, this is the operative that you will be assisting us with. She is only one week into her training, but her normal trainer had to be sent out. He should return in a week or so. You have her file, and Madeline will be pleased to provide you with a video of Kristie's very interesting first session." Operations turned to see the blush that he expected to see color Kristie's cheeks, but was astonished to see only a blank stare instead.
"Just make sure that you let him view it in room three, the rewind and pause in two is broken, and he may need those, right Madeline?" Kristie tossed Madeline a small smile and a quick wink. Madeline could not control the corner of her mouth turning up. This one definitely had spirit. It may serve her well, if it didn't get her canceled first.
Operation's brows knitted together and a scowl adorned his lips. He had just met Nikita's cerebral twin. They thought and felt the same way about Section, and didn't feel it necessary to hide their dislikes. Given time and situations carefully orchestrated, she would mellow in the same manner that Nikita had, becoming more docile, precise, and accepting, if not totally agreeable, to the ways and means of life inside Section. Or, she would be canceled. He wasted no more energy on trying to force rebellious operatives into his way of thinking. Dealing with Nikita for the past few years, had shown him how impossible it was, like trying to herd cats. He replaced his previous irritated expression with one of calm amusement, and faced Madeline.
"Please arrange the use of room three for Tyler, and thank you Kristie for bringing the broken equipment to our attention. I'll have someone fix it right away." Operations smirked, and Madeline favored him with a sly smile, seeing the manipulation behind his icy blue eyes.
Kristie was not taken in so easily, and narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Operations, but said nothing, for now.
Ten minutes later, Kristie and Tyler were walking toward viewing room three, video firmly in Tyler's grasp, in what he would never admit to being a sweaty palm. He had read Kristie's file, including a report that Michael himself had made on his meeting and subsequent recruitment of her, and for anyone to be able to get into the head or heart of Michael, made her someone to be reckoned with.
Kristie, however, had been silent and pensive since being released from Operation's office. She knew that she should probably say something, but her mind was elsewhere. Where that exactly was, replaying the events and comments passed in that upstairs meeting, was not a comfortable thing to be thinking about. But yet her mind rewound, replayed, and reviewed, over and over. His eyes had hardened at her comment, then he had grown distant, almost dreamy, and the softness had come into his face then, looking almost as genuine as a three dollar bill. He was up to something, she knew, but then again, when wasn't he? And Madeline, calmly standing by his side, letting him take the reins on the conversation, not even attempting to put in comments or views.
Tyler drifted a little behind Kristie as they walked, giving her a once over that she didn't appear to even notice, letting her lead the way to the room. Nice athletic build, strong legs, nice tight ass, beautiful head of hair stopping about mid-back. At least she wouldn't require a makeover, looks-wise, she was ready. And from what he had read in her report, she stayed ready in another way too. That...he was interested in seeing.
"So, why are you so worried? You saw the way she handled Stephen, why should it be any different with Tyler?" Nikita braided her silky hair absently, unknowingly making Michael's heart race.
Michael managed to find his voice after a moment, "Valentine Operatives use their targets emotions against them. He'll find her weaknesses, use them to get under her skin, toy with her until she's powerless against him, and destroy her."
Nikita looked up sharply. There was something in Michael's voice that told Nikita he was really afraid for Kristie. So Nikita was worried now too, because she trusted Michael's judgment, and she felt a little bit of jealousy. Michael had told her about how he first met Kristie, and the ensuing affair. He'd told her he'd seduced her to bring her in. Nikita had told him she understood. Told him not to worry about it. She'd pointed out that he thought she was dead, and he was under orders . . .
And she'd reminded herself of those very facts more times than she cared to think about. Kristie had become a friend in the short time since Nikita had known her. They'd never discussed what had happened with Michael. It was an unspoken agreement. Nikita knew Kristie would never make any overtures towards Michael, and that she'd resist any kind of contact with him that wasn't platonic.
Nikita trusted Michael too. She trusted him physically. He'd never go to another woman if he thought Nikita was alive. But sometimes, in moments like this, she wondered what other emotions lay buried in his heart, that he didn't share with her.
Nikita opened her mouth, then closed it, and bit her lip.
Michael watched her, watched the emotions flit across her face. She never hid them from him. That meant so much to him, but there were times when he wished he was blind to them as well.
"Ask Nikita," Michael prodded gently, "We shouldn't leave anything unsaid, not with the lives we lead."
Nikita looked down at her hands, then back up at Michael, "Is that how you were able to get to me?"
Michael had been expecting a different question altogether.
"Yes," Michael said, enmeshing his fingers with hers, "But I wasn't acting."
Nikita took a deep breath, that at least made her feel a little better.
"I thought you were going to ask why I was so concerned about Kristie," Michael prodded.
Nikita looked back at him, "Because she and I are a lot alike - and she's the closest thing you have to a friend, after me. It's only natural to care about her. I'd be lying if I said that sometimes I don't feel a little jealous that you care about her. But I also know you're loyal to a fault Michael."
Michael's hand tightened on hers, "You're the only woman I've ever felt like this about Nikita, You have no competition, no one to worry about. I feel the same way for Alex, as I do Kristie."
Nikita rolled her eye's, and managed to grin, "Damn, now I am worried!"
Michael's eye's registered shock, then he realized she was teasing him.
"When hell froze over," He told her, turning the blinds closed again. He slid his arm around Nikita's waist, pulling her up against him.
"Come one, they're both gorgeous," Nikita told him, teasing him. "You're a man. It would be only natural."
"Nikita," Michael said softly, his lips brushing hers, "Assuming I did even think about Alex in some way other than as a co-worker, material and something not quite friendship, the picture of her drawing her gun on me would cure me of any sexual thoughts what-so-ever."
Niktia chuckled, and dodged his lips when he moved to kiss her, "I drew my gun on you once."
Michael looked at her, the memory flooding back, "Shut up."
His mouth covered hers for a quick, hungry kiss.
* * *
This is just a little too weird, Kristie thought to herself, as she sat watching the tape of her having sex with Stephen. Tyler placed the recording from the beginning, the entire exchange. He rewound it back to the part where Stephen started to kiss her finger tips, and watched through that part, twice.
"How did it feel?" Tyler asked her, turning languid, sensuous gaze on her.
She blinked, "It was good, I enjoyed it."
Tyler smiled, "I can see that you were enjoying the ride Kristie. You were looking right at the camera. Despite the show you put on, I can tell you did enjoy the event. I talking about the minuscule amount of foreplay before you stopped him."
"It felt like someone kissing my fingers," she told him calmly.
Tyler watched her face, "More specifics please."
She groaned, and rolled her eye's, "If felt like soft skin on my finger tips. The kisses were a little wet - foreplay doesn't do it for me."
Tyler rewound the tape again, "Watch your face very carefully."
She sighed, "This is a little twisted, watching myself have sex with another man sitting here."
"If you think this is twisted, you're in for a real treat," Tyler said gently, "Watch."
Kristie focused her attention on her face. She watched as her eye's widened a little, then her eye lids slid down a little as Stephen worked her fingers. Her tongue moistened her lips as he moved to another finger.
Tyler stopped the tape, "You were telling me that foreplay doesn't do it for you."
She groaned, "You want me to get graphic? I get wet faster thinking about how a mans dick is gonna feel inside me, than I do if someone starts kissing my fingers."
"You had a mission in Germany," Tyler said, "You were required to sleep with a target. This was difficult for you, you said so to Stephen, because he was such a . . . I think the term you used was 'monster'. How did you get through that then, if all that matters how he's going to feel inside of you."
Kristie was instantly livid angry, "Jesus Christ! Does he run and tell Madeline everything?!"
Tyler shook his head, "He didn't say a word to anyone. You had the conversation while standing over Alex in Medlab. The room was being monitored."
Kristie shook her head. She shouldn't be surprised. She knew about the camera's after all.
"I thought about someone else. I closed my eye's, and in my head, it was someone else," Kristie told him, "Just teach me the mechanics, and we'll be done with this!"
Tyler shook his head, "It's not so easy as that. Who were you with, in your head? Michael or Stephen?"
Kristie groaned, "Why does everyone want to bring Michael into it? Does everyone in Section know about what I did over 5 years ago?"
"Only the people who see your file," Tyler told her, "Michael or Stephen."
"Neither one," she lied, "I pictured a guy I dated in highschool. Football player. Big guy, all muscle - and he didn't try to manipulate me. He just let me have my way."
Tyler laughed, "And you're used to getting your way, aren't you."
She didn't laugh or smile back, "Obviously not. I'm here, aren't I?"
"Here as in being trained to seduce?" Tyler queried her.
"Here in Section One," she told him, "You've seen my file obviously."
Tyler replayed the finger kissing scene again. Kristie groaned, and wondered if he had a fetish for fingers. He stopped it, right wheres she pulled her hand away.
"You stopped him, just as he was starting to get to you. You looked up at the camera, and then took over," Tyler pointed out, "I think you're afraid of losing control."
She laughed, "I think I resent being a zoo animal on display in Madeline's porno library."
Tyler shut off the video, "That's one thing I can fix."
He stood up, "We'll spend some time outside of Section One, if that will make you more comfortable."
Kristie sighed, "Where? My apartment has camera's in it. Your place probably does."
"I'm staying in section right now," he told her, "We're going to a hotel downtown. You pick. No camera's, no bugs."
Kristie picked out the most elegant and fancy hotel she could think of. If Section was going to put her through this, she was gonna rack up a huge bill for them. They had one small bag between them, and when they walked up to the reception desk, Tyler asked for a suite on the top floor, with a hot tub. Kristie had to grin. She wasn't the only one thinking about racking up Section One's credit card bill. He also ordered a very late dinner, and for a bottle of champagne to be sent up with the late dinner.
She knew it was blatantly obvious what they were there for, with one bag between the two of them, but grinned wickedly, daring anyone to meet her eye's with any glimmer of disapproval. No one did.
The suite had a huge bedroom with a king size bed, a hot tub in front of a floor to ceiling bay window, a sitting room with a wet bar, and an enormous bathroom. She kicked off her shoes, and made a show of stretching, "So now what? Wild hot hungry sex on the sofa, or the hot tub?"
"Now, it's time for a massage," he told her, "Go in the bedroom, take your cloths off, and lay down on the bed."
Kristie sighed, and thought to herself that if he was any good, she'd be asleep, not aroused, in ten minutes.
She walked into the bedroom, yanked the blankets down, stripped off her cloths and left them in a heap on the chair, twisted her hair up into a knot, and lay on her stomach in the middle of the bed. She sighed deeply, and waited, thinking about how she was going to turn the tables on this arrogant playboy. There wasn't a man out there who she couldn't handle . . .
She heard the door open, and turned to look. Tyler walked in, leaving the bag on the stand at the end of the bed. He pulled a bottle of massage oil of the bag, and set it on the bed next to her. Then he stripped down to his boxers.
"We're not shy are we?" she teased him.
"Not unless I need to be," he told her, "But I'm not going to give you any advantages either."
She groaned, "Well, I hope your a good masseuse. I've had a shitty day."
She rested her head on her arms, and waited for him.
It was a few moments later, when she felt his hands on her back, slowly working the oil into her skin.
"Tell me if I hurt you," he said gently.
When hell freezes over, she thought to herself.
"Kristie," he prodded.
"You'll know, believe me," she lied, expecting the pressure to increase. Whatever he did, she'd take it.
But he didn't increase the pressure. Slowly, he worked up and down her back and shoulders, then her feet, up her legs. Kristie concentrated on keeping her breathing even. But it was getting difficult. His fingers kept brushing the sensitive folds of flesh at the apex of her thighs, and all she could think about was yanking his boxers off of him, and riding him as hard as she could.
"Turn over," he urged her gently.
Kristie had to grin. This would be over in ten minutes, max.
She glanced at the clock. It was 5pm.
She turned over, and rested her head on her hands, spreading her legs apart a little.
Tyler let her see his eye's roaming down her naked body appreciatively, "Arms down at your sides Kristie."
He took one arm, and started to work his way up to her shoulder, then the other. Then he worked the front of her thighs, the back of his hand brushing the sensitive flesh, the way it had a few minutes ago. Kristie was tired of waiting.
She reached for him, snagging the front of his boxers.
He stopped her hand, "No you don't."
She groaned, "I always get what I want eventually."
"But not today," he said, his voice still gentle.
He started on hers shoulders, slowly working down to the stop curves of her breasts. Kristie had her eye's closed. It was easier to pretend he wasn't getting to her, if she didn't have to see his smug smile. Her body was anything but relaxed. More like stretched taut as a bow, she thought, and he probably knew it.
She felt his weight shift, and opened her eye's, to see him straddling her hips.
"What?" she started to sit up.
"Relax," he urged her, "You're not going to be hurt."
His hands slid lower, cupping her breast, his fingers caressing, kneading and working her now erect nipples. It started to dawn on Kristie that maybe losing this particular battle wouldn't be so bad. She felt him start to move down the bed, but she refused to open her eye's. Then she felt something hot and wet engulf her nipple, sending a jolt of white hot sweet need deep to the core of her being.
She reached up, entangling her hands in his thick blonde hair, but only for a moment. He grabbed her wrists painfully, pressing her down into the bed. Warning bells went off in her head, but faded quickly. He was playing with her. He moved his mouth to her other nipple, and she struggled with herself, to keep her mind at least somewhat . . . coherent?
Then as his mouth tormented her, she felt the tip of his thick hard penis brush at the opening between her thighs. That was all it took. All coherent thought left her mind, her worlds shattered into a thousand ecstatic pieces, and her body betrayed her by convulsing under him.
"Oh god!" she gasped, as every last ounce of strength left her.
She heard Tyler laugh, and it sounded . . . evil . . .somehow. But she didn't reflect on it long. Still holding her down, he pushed inside her.
It hurt, but only for a brief moment.
"Spread your legs a little wider," her ordered.
Kristie did it, her teeth biting into his shoulder as he thrust into her.
"Wrap your legs around me," he ordered, a few minutes later, and she did it, arching up to meet his thrusts, unable to do anything, but what he asked . . .
Her next orgasm slammed into her, rendering her weak and helpless, and unable to think . . . anything. She hung in that hazy world in-between, sleep beckoning to her. It was too much. She couldn't fight it. Her mind barely registered that he was letting go of her wrists . . .
The next day . . .
"So what did we learn last night Kristie?" Tyler asked her, as they walked down the hallway that lead to the main floor of Section One.
She looked over at him, "That I have sensitive nipples - but I knew that before."
Tyler laughed. It wasn't an overly warm sound.
"I told you to spread your legs wider, you did it. I told you to wrap them around me, you did it - and you are not exactly easy to lead around, why do you think that happened?" he asked her.
Kristie felt her stomach turn. This can't be happening . . .
"I was under orders," she said tartly.
He shook his head.
She kept her expression calm, "Ok, you obviously have a theory of your own."
"Foreplay builds up anticipation . . . and can make the most controlling person putty in your hand," he told her, "You'd have done anything I wanted you to."
She took a deep steadying breath, "I'm not even going to argue this point."
"But you'll be ready for it next time," He told her, "I'll see you again tonight."
He turned, and started up the stairs to Madeline's office.
Kristie turned around, and saw Nikita strolling across the main floor.
"Hey," Nikita said cheerily, "How are you doing?"
Kristie saw concern in the other woman's eye's, "Sore. But I had a good time."
Nikita nodded, "It's always a plus when what you're learning is fun . . ."
Right up until you feel like you've been used . . . Kristie thought to herself, I'm going to wrap this man if it kills me . . .
Continue on to Let the games begin