Madeline's Gift

By: Kimberly & One Lobo

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       Madeline sat behind her desk, staring at her bonsai plants across the room, contemplating how she was going to fix the difficult situation before her. It was ironic - on one hand, she was working to break one woman's spirit, on the other hand, she was trying to repair the bonds Section had so successfully torn apart - Section via Operations.

       At least, she thought Section had torn them apart . . .

       Her apartment was very dark - save for the occasional flicker of yellow light. That told Darren she had candles lit. She was probably trying to relax.

        As he climbed the stairs, he heard bluesy music from inside. He knocked on the door loudly, and waited. He was about to knock again when she opened the door.

       She was clad in a thin tank top and boxer shorts, which left little to the imagination . . . and Darren's imagination had been obsessed with her for hours . . .

       "Hey," He said, "I . . . I was thinking about you."

       She stepped back, to let him in. Darren's eyes took a moment to adjust.

        "I've been meaning to ask you something - Kristie reacted pretty strongly to seeing you when she had her last nightmare here," Alexandra said, her voice sad, resigned.

       Darren pulled his hair out of the rubber band that held it back, "She had another one - another nightmare - on the mission - and I found out a lot about them . . ."

       Alexandra humphed, "Mind telling me why she's afraid of you?"

       Darren tensed up. Alex was pissed at him - and she'd been hiding it well . ..

       "Me, Michael, Stephen, Tyler - and god knows who else - she's having nightmares about valentine mission scenarios. We think Madeline has been drugging her - the pills you got her - were probably switched before you picked them up," Darren told her.

       Alexandra was standing with her back against the kitchen counter, legs spread shoulder width apart, a glass of wine in one hand.

        "So Madeline caught wind of the slumber party  . . . Kristie was having nightmares before that though," Alexandra pointed out.

       "Tyler," Darren countered, "He was a control freak - and he spent an awful lot of time in Madeline's office."

       Alexandra took a deep streadying breath, "I've never seen her like that before."

       "Alex," Darren said softly, "You have to know hell would freeze over before I'd ever do anything to hurt her."

       Alexandra nodded slowly, "It's just that Section . . . no one can make that promise in Section One.  Suppose you're ordered to force her  - or face cancellation - then what do you do?"

       Darren's answer was quick and calm, "I'd talk to Kristie - see if she could play along - if she couldn't, I'd take my chances with the torture twins. I doubt I could perform that way anyhow."

       Alexandra opened her mouth, about to remind him that he was able to get very violent with Anna, but she stopped.

       Darren must have known what she was thinking.

       "I didn't have to force her Alex - and I wasn't with her in my head," Darren told her, "I've been aching to just hold you for two days - c'mere, please!"

       He held his arms open wide. Alexandra set her glass down, and walked towards him slowly. Darren had long since given up trying to figure out how her mind worked. She was suspicious of everything, and he understood why. He knew she hated herself for the part she played in Anna's death, and he hated himself for how he treated her before, during and after. If her suspicion was the price had to pay, so be it.

       Her hands came to rest on his chest, fingers splayed out, feeling him. Darren felt his heart jump at her touch, his ardor going from an ember to a roaring fire.

       His hands ran up her back, kneading her shoulders, and he watched while she started to unbutton his shirt, then pulled it from his jeans, and finally snuggling into his now bare chest.

        They stood that way for several long minutes.

       "What happened on the mission?" she asked him finally.

       "Our target was expecting us," Darren told her, "Someone tipped him."

       Her body went tense, and she looked up at him, "Do we have a leak?"        

       "Madeline's working on him right now I think . . . if we do, it won't be around long," Darren reached up, and wrapped a long tendril of hair around his finger.

       He dropped his hands down, cupping under her butt, and lifted her  up, his mouth seizing hers when her lips were level with his. He set her down on the countertop, pushing her knee's apart, his hands sliding up her thighs, up her hips, then under her T-shirt, sliding up her sides, his thumbs brushing the outside curves of her breasts. Christ she really isn't ever going to wear a bra again . . .

       He felt her fingers dancing on his chest, her fingertips brushing across his nipples, teasing them into tight hard little buds.

        She pulled back from him, and yanked her tank top off, exposing herself.

       Darren watched her, "Alex - believe it or not - this isn't what I came here for."

       She'd been reaching for his jeans, and stopped, "Are you turning me down?"

       "No!" Darren pulled her off the counter, so she straddled his hips, and he started over towards her bed, "I don't want you to ever think that's the only reason I'm here."

       She reached up and traced his lips with her finger tip, "I know that . . . Baby why are we having this conversation?"

       Darren took a deep breath, "I've been thinking is all - how Section treats it's people . . ."

       Alexandra smiled up at him, her fingertips had moved down to his chest, tracing circles around his nipples again, "I know you love me Darren."

       "Always remember that . . ." Darren told her, his mouth moving down, and covering hers.  

       She felt his hands tugging the boxer shorts down and off of her. Alexandra yanked open his jeans and started to push them down his hips, just enough to free his thick swollen shaft. She wrapped her fingers around him, her fingers stroking, squeezing . . .

       Darren moaned into her mouth, then his mouth left hers, and moved to take one nipple into his mouth, his fingers parting nether lips, stroking her there, quickly finding the sensitive bud. He heard her soft moan of pleasure, and suckled harder, pushing his hips towards hers. He felt her body react when the tip of his cock brushed against her swollen nether lips. He grasped his own cock, and tracked the outline of her mons with it, parting her, teasing her now very sensitive clit with his own very sensitive tip.

        She moaned under him,  her back arching, her breasts thrust up at him. She arched her hips up.

       "Darren please, I want you inside me!" she gasped out.

       His tongue flicked over her nipple one more time, and he raised his head, looking into her eye's. One hand moved up to cup her face, and his slid himself down between her labia, then to her vaginal opening . . . and home.

       "Darren!" She moaned, her eye's closing, her body arching up to him like an offering. He lowered his body down onto hers, his hips tilting to thrust inside her. His mouth sought out hers, and they kissed hungrily while Darren moved inside her. It wasn't the fantric, almost violent sex that was their norm. It was more emotional, communicating more intensely in actions than they would in words. I love you, I need you, I want you, I'll defy the god themselves to be with you, come back from the dead to have you . . .

       Nikita slipped into his office silently, "What happened?"

       Michael looked up, and punched in  the security code, "They knew we were coming - Madeline is questioning him now."

       Nikita took a deep steadying breath, "I . . . we haven't talked much since we had that argument the other night . . ."

       "I thought I made myself clear," Michael told her.

       Nikita was instantly irritated again, "Did Simone just obey your every command?"

       Michael looked back up at her, his expression calm - and masked. Nikita instantly regretted her question.

       "Yes," Michael replied.

       Nikita didn't know what to say. She wanted to tell him she wasn't Simone. She wanted to throw up in his face that what made her the way she is, was also what he said he loved about her . But she said nothing . . . .

       The next day . . .

       "I thought I'd at least get a visit from you," Kristie said, the edge to her voice telling Stephen she was annoyed.

       Stephen looked up from the computer terminal in his office, "What we did - what I did - was wrong."

       Kristie looked at him, felt her mouth fall open, "Excuse me?!"

       "I know you're new to this place - but you know the rules."

       "Fuck the rules!" Kristie snapped at him, "Every last god damned person here breaks those rules! I'd peg Madeline and Operations-"

       "Madeline and Operations will use anything they can to manipulate you Kristie. Getting involved with me gives them leverage to use against you - and they'll use you as leverage against me. Do you want to live with that?"

       "We keep us separate, outside of Section One," Kristie argued.

       "That's not possible here Kristie, you have to know that," Stephen told her.

       Kristies eyes narrowed, "You know what I think? I think that this is just another part of your big plans to manipulate and hurt me because you want to hurt Michael over something that happened in the past and was not his fault. Congratulations Stephen - you had me fooled for a while - and that never happens."

       She strode to the door and stopped, looking over her shoulder at him, "It won't happen again."

       "Kristie, we made a mistake," Stephen began again.

       "I made a mistake - by trusting you!" She slammed the door shut on his office door.

       Darren was just coming down the hall, and saw Kristie leave Stephen's office. Her body language spoke volumes.

        "Kristie?" Darren said, "What's wrong?"

       She shook her head, "I don't want to talk about it, not here. Are you going to the gym?"

       "I was just gonna go change actually," Darren told her.

       Alexandra walked with Nikita, both of them dressed to work out. When they entered the gym, their eye's were drawn to Kristie violently attacking a punching bag. Every last ounce of energy and strength went into each punch or kick.

       "Michael tell you about the nightmares?" Alexandra asked Nikita.

       "No, but I know she's having them," Nikita replied.

       "My guess is that she had a really really bad one," Alexandra sighed, and climbed onto the stair master.

       Nikita climbed onto the one next to Alexandra. They both started up, setting a fast pace for the next hour.

        Stephen walked into the gym, and as if she had eye's in the back of her head, Kristie turned to look at him. The tension emanating from her increased tenfold.

       "Not a nightmare," Nikita gasped out, from her stair master.

       Michael walked into the gym a few moments later, his gaze searching out and settling on Nikita. Alexandra watched as Nikita looked away.

       "Must be something in the water," Alexandra commented.

       Nikita looked at her, "I hate it here, you know that?"

       "It wasn't my career of choice," Alexandra answered, "Can I interrogate you now or later?"

       "Later," Nikita replied, "Like - outside later."

       Madeline sighed, looking at the mission objectives spelled out in cold black type on the computer screen in front of her. Over the years she'd often thought that George simply had no clue what went into putting these missions together. He had no idea how difficult it was to get to some people. He just wanted results, told Section to get them, and that was it. So Section did what ever it had to. That was it's reason for being . . .

       Madeline knew in the back of her mind that things were incredibly slow right now. There were a few recon missions going, but that was it. She'd unofficially slated several operatives for down time. She'd had no intention of sending them out for the next week. Some of them would spend the time training their material, some of them would spend the time continuing their training. She couldn't send Michael or Nikita away without causing a fuss, and without drawing attention to how much damage had been done. Darren and Alexandra were two steps behind Michael and Nikita, and while the younger pair were certainly not as politically important, they had tremendous potential. They would be the next pair of leading cold ops when Michael and Nikita stepped up to run Section One. Madeline had her doubts about Alexandra now and then. She wavered, crashed horribly and got back up again, somehow managed to survive and became stronger. If only she wasn't so defiant sometimes  . . .

       Darren turned out to be much more promising than anything Madeline could have anticipated. Kristie was almost at his level too. If Alexandra faltered or met her demise, Kristie would be an excellent replacement as a cold op and partner for Darren. Madeline knew she'd never quite fill Alexandra's shoes in Darren's eye's, but she'd probably be the only substitute he could tolerate. Of course, having all three of them move up in the ranks and excel would be ideal, but Madeline was a realist. The odds were against it.

       The target George had dumped into their lapp was Drew Heckland. There was actually very little dirt on the man, and he always had a huge security team waiting in the wings. He had one weakness though. He loved to gamble. At least once a month he could be found in Las Vegas, playing the high stakes Black Jack tables.

        And George wanted a face to face meeting with the man, and Drew Heckland wasn't cooperating. He refused to even consider it. It was suicide for George to just approach him, and sit down at a table next to Heckland in Las Vegas. There would be no talking, the meet would be too open. Hecklands security team would go nuts, innocent lives would be lost.

       But if they could get Heckland to a private table, invitation only, the whole thing could be staged. Heckland wouldn't know he'd been duped until it was too late - and they could take him if they wanted . . . .

       Madeline sighed and made her decision. The unofficial sabbatical would just have to wait a little longer.

       Alexandra looked around the room when she walked into briefing. Kristie was sitting there next to Darren, Nikita was just walking in behind Alexandra. Stephen sat at the far end of the table, speaking to Birkhoff about something. Michael sat at the other end of the table calmly waiting. Lewis, Greg and Ryan were also sitting at the table.

       "Now you don't see all of us ever on the same mission," Alexandra announced, sitting down next to Kristie.

       Kristie turned and looked at her, "I was the bait last time. I think it should be your turn."

       Alexandra grimaced, "I say we make the guys be the bait. I'm tired of being the whore of choice."

       "Alexandra," Michael chastised her.

       Alexandra stuck her tongue out at him, and immediately defended her reasoning, "I'm serious! We get sent out in dresses most prostitutes wouldn't wear - get orders to fuck people most prostitutes won't fuck no matter how much they were paid -"

       "Alexandra!" Michael's warning was a little sterner.

       She took a deep breath to argue further, but Michael cut her off.

       "I'm not argueing that it's fair, it's not," Michael said quickly, "But it can't be helped. If there's a way to avoid compromising an operative, we avoid it."

       Madeline and Operations walked in at that moment.

       "No one is going to be compromised on this mission," Madeline told them all immediately.

        Alexandra looked over at Darren and Kristie, her expression clearing telling them she was not surprised that Madeline had been eavesdropping.

       Operations picked up and pointed the remote at the holo panel, and a picture came up, "Drew Heckland. He's a very effective money launderer for several terrorist organizations, and he's not cooperating with us. We want to give him the opportunity to reconsider - once."

       "He has a weakness for Black Jack," Madeline began, "High stakes. His luck is moderate. His security team hates these trips, and they double up when he goes into the casino's. The only way we can get close to him is to arrange for him to be invited to a private, high stakes game. Michael will provide oversight on location, pretending to be pit boss. Stephen, Darren, Lewis, Ryan and Greg will work the peripherals. Nikita, Alexandra and Kristie will be dealing Black Jack behind the high stakes tables. There is a training video on how to deal cards, and how to slip in cards. Become very familiar with the technique. You leave tomorrow night."

       "Nikita," Darren called out as the blond walked by him.

       Nikita stopped and walked over to where Darren was sitting in front of terminal, obviously surfing the net.

       "What's up?" Nikita asked him, rubbing her eye's. She, Alexandra and Kristie had been practicing all day.

       "I was browsing newspapers in Las Vegas - looking for information on our hotel, the weather . . . and I came across this news article," Darren swiveled a chair out for her.

       Nikita sat down to read the article. Over the last 6 months, twelve women had disappeared. The police felt that 9 of them had probably run off on their own. Three of them didn't fit the 'type' the article said. There were no bodies though, so police didn't have any theories or idea's.

       "Ok . . . are you worried someone's gonna kidnap us?" Nikita asked him, a grin spreading across her face.

       "Not really . . . it just seems odd, you know? So 9 of them might have ran off, but 3 of them really are probably missing - and no signs of a struggle, no one has seen anything . . . I just thought it was worth mentioning," Darren told her.

       "Yeah, it is," Nikita agreed, "We'll be well equipped with trackers on this mission. I'll talk to Walter about a subcutaneous trackers too."

       Darren shrugged, "I'd like to see some fool try to kidnap you, Alex or Kristie. It'd be worth selling tickets for I'm sure!"

       Nikita grinned, but then her smile faded, thinking back about what happened when someone tried to hurt her once before, a serial killer . . . and she thought about the cop who ended up a victim to a life sentence in Section One.

       Nikita was very uncomfortable in the push up bra. The casino uniform for the woman dealers was a short skirt, and vest top that showed lots of cleavage. She looked over to see Kristie checking her appearance in the mirror.

       "The same man who designed the  cheer leader costumes had to be behind this," Kristie said, "What happens if this guy is so busy ogling our boobs that he fucks up and we can't even cheat his way to winning?"

       Alexandra suddenly bent over, and reached in between her legs, grabbed the hem of the skirt and tugged, "Amazing - I thought for sure I'd have half my ass hanging out in the breeze."

       Nikita rolled her eye's. Michael was right. Sometimes having Alexandra around was like having a wild teenage daughter on your hands.

       "I think Section should start requiring uniforms," Ryan's voice said over the comm unit.

       Darren looked, though he didn't have to. The three women of Section One had just come out from behind a door marked 'Staff Only'. Short skirts, vest tops with lots of cleavage, high heels.

       "Keep your eye's open for the target," Michael said, "He's not going to be wearing a skirt and vest."

       Darren grinned to himself. Michael normally would allow a little bit of levity on a mission like this. But George would be here. Darren had seen Michael's eye's narrow at the attention Ryan paid Alexandra lately too. Michael had called him on the carpet for not being focused more than once. Ryan was about to find himself on another team, and that suited Darren just fine.

       It was a few hours later that their target showed up. Michael slowly managed to herd the target over to Nikita's table by lowering the bet limits and closing tables.

        Once the target was at Nikita's table, it was only a matter of time. She made sure he won steadily, until Michael could safely invite the target up to a "Private invitation only" game upstairs. The stakes were high, the company distinguished . . .

       The targets security team was not happy, but Heckland was not going to be deterred. Nikita, Alex and Kristie managed to slip away from the tables, and headed through the employee door for the staff elevators up there. The operatives spread out in the casino started to move in place. Some of them would be in the room, some would be sealing the exits.

       "Michael," Birkhoff's voice suddenly sounded in Michael's ear, "Did you order Nikita, Alex and Kristie to leave the casino?"

       "I hate these shoes," Kristie groaned as they walked down the hall towards the elevator.

       They got in, and Nikita pressed the button. The doors slid closed. The elevator started to rise, then suddenly stopped, in-between floors.

       Nikita frowned, and hit the button again, then again.

       "This is not happening," Alexandra groaned.

       A hissing sound drew their attention over their heads, and all three women looked up to see a white gas start to come out of a small tube.

       "Get down, cover your mouths!" Nikita ordered.

       "Nikita?" Michael queried, "Report."

       Nothing.

       "Kristie?" Michael asked.

       Nothing.

       "Michael, I lost their audio when they went into the elevator - but systems shows them outside the casino now, they should be hearing you," Birkhoff told him, "They're moving pretty fast - like they're in a car."

       "Michael," Darren said suddenly, "They might have been kidnapped, there have been 12 possible cases here in the last couple months."

       Michael was torn. He wanted to throw the whole mission and chase after them. But he couldn't.

        "Birkhoff, you're primary function is to track them. Notify Operations and activate global positioning protocols," Michael ordered, "Darren, I want you in the room - get a vest from someone, Ryan, take the position Darren's holding now. Everyone be on alert. We might have been breached."

       Then, George's voice came over the comm units, "Michael, what's going on?"

       George was the last person Michael wanted to deal with right now, but he was the head of the agency, and the man who held all their lives in his hands.

       "Three operatives are not responding, and were taken from the scene, we don't know by who, I'm reassigning positions, and we're proceeding with the mission. Birkhoff is tracking our missing operatives through GPS," Michael explained, "Are you on sight?"

       "Yes," George replied, "Do you think we should abort?"

       Michael wanted to say yes, but not for the reasons George was concerned about.

       "No," Michael replied, "This team can handle this."

       Michael said that for two reasons. He wanted the team to rise to the occasion. Michael wasn't sure if Darren was right or not, and he wanted to inspire the remaining team members. Michael wouldn't have trusted all of them alone under these circumstances, but Darren and Stephen were good - the two of them would be watching out for the rest of them.

       Darren saw a passing hotel staff member in one of the vests that he needed. The man was pushing a cart, and not paying attention. Darren grabbed him, punching him hard across the temple, knocking him cold. The vest came off, and the man was shoved into a utility closet. He's wake up in a few hours with a terrible headache, but he'd live to see the next day.

       Darren's blazer was shrugged off, the vest put on, and his gun tucked into the back of his pants. It wasn't the ideal manner for this situation, but it was all he had to work with. He'd get it done. He'd worked with less before - in Section Three.

       "Birkhoff, I'm coming up the stairwell," Darren announced, "What am I gonna run into."

       "Nothing," Birkhoff told him, "Be careful inside the stairwell - it's hard to scan."

       Darren frowned. This was not going well, and George was on sight. He slipped into the stairwell, eye's watchful, and made his way up the stairs. There were no problems in the stairwell, and he found himself sitting behind the blackjack table moments later.

        Stephen and Lewis were sitting at the table, and Darren quickly laid out a round of cards, so it looked like they were playing.

       "Target approaching, ten feet away," Birkhoff told them.

       The target had been taken, and was now enroute to Section One bound and gagged. His security team had been killed. Madeline would "convince" their target to work with them.

       Now, George wanted to know what had happened.

       Darren shrugged out of the blood stained vest, and frowned, seeing that some of the blood had soaked through to the white shirt underneath.

       Ryan paced nervously across the room by himself. Lewis and Greg here piling up the bodies for housekeeping. Stephen was standing with Michael, Darren and George.

       "What was this about this possibly being a kidnapping?" George asked.

       Michael's eyes darted to Darren.

       "I have a habit of checking the news boards of the area we're going into. There have been 12 kidnappings of women in the area. No signs of a struggle anywhere connected to them. Out of the 12, 9 have been written off as the women just taking off on their own, 3 are being investigated a little more seriously.

       "Nikita arranged for all the female operatives to be implanted with subcutaneous trackers," Michael told him, "Birkhoff - Where are Nikita, Kristie and Alexandra?"

       "On a plane," Birkhoff replied, "It's registered as a cargo plane, but there are 15 passengers."

       Stephen shook his head, "This looks like a kidnapping more and more each minutes. How did they take them? All three of them would have fought tooth and nail."

       "If they could have," Michael added, "Keep tracking Birkhoff - where is this plane scheduled to land?"

       "The Caribbean," Birkhoff replied, "I checked for any possible linkages to terrorist activities. If there is one, it's really small. This cargo was shipped for a company that does international shipping. They have three possible connections in the port their landing in, all three are high seas cargo ships. I'm getting their shipping routes now."

       "Who do we have in the area?" Michael asked.

       Birkhoff hesitated, "Operations gave me orders to track only, and not intervene."

       Everyone in the room tensed up.

       "Birkhoff, put me through to Operations," George snapped.

       Operations explained to George in a voice that betrayed how pissed he was at having to explain that this looked like a white slavery ring, and that they had plans to take it down. They could track to the end destination and take them out there. They argued the risks involved, and in the end, it was decided that a team would be waiting in the next destination port after the Caribbean.

       Michael hand picked a team to meet on the east coast, and they were in the air in 20 minutes.

       They were all bound and gagged. Nikita could see Kristie and Alexandra, and many other women, all trussed up like hogs ready for the spit. None of them looked like they'd been beat up though. Nikita wondered where they'd all come from.

       She'd awoke on the plane. Judging from the position of the sun through the window, they were going south east. She saw both Alexandra and Kristie scanning the plane, looking at exits, where their captors were,  the fire extinguishers and a few other things that could be used as a weapon. There were lots of whimpers and quiet crying. Dispair hung heavily in the air.

       When they landed, they were all loaded into van with no windows. They rode that way for an hour, until the van drove up a steep ramp. The movements changed, and Nikita immediately knew they were on a ship.

       The doors were yanked open, and the women were picked up, and carried out, and taken to small rooms.

        Nikita, Alex and Kristie and a fourth woman were left in a small 10 by 10 room. An hour later, three men came in, bearing syringes.

       The woman none of them knew got the first injection, and they took off her gag. Nikita knew what it would be. Heroine. They were going to be addicted, and sold on the block to some pervert. White slavery . . .

       Alex was the last to get the injection, and the man who held her still reached up her top to cop a feel. Alexandra squealed, cussed and swore.

       "I think we ought to have ourselves a little fun with one of these," the groping man leered.

       Kristie pulled her still bound legs up to her chest, and launched a kick at the man who was holding Alexandra, surprising him. He fell back into the wall, swearing.

       "This one wants it more apparently!" He spat at her, "Grab her, and bring her with us."

       Alexandra and Kristie struggled to kick them away, Nikita was screaming with them, struggling to get over to them. But tied up hand and foot, they were pretty much defenseless.

       Kristie was dragged out by her feet, screaming curses down on their heads.

       "No! God damn you all to hell!" Alexandra screamed, watching the door close, "Kristie!!!"

       She kicked at the now closed and latched door in vain a few times, then stopped.

       "God damn it! Where the hell is Darren and Michael?" Alexandra spat out.

       "I'm sure they can't hear us in here," Nikita told her, "They're probably tracking us though."

       Nikita had worked herself up in a sitting position, taking in the room. Not much to work with.

        "Then why the hell are we still here?" Alexandra snapped, "They could have gotten to us in the Caribbean!"

       Alexandra struggled over to one of the walls, where a sharp piece of metal was exposed, "What the hell did they inject us with? I'm feeling a little weird too!"

       "Heroine," the fourth woman said, a grin spreading across her face, "Good shit too."

       Alexandra shot her a look that spoke volumes.

       Alexandra started to saw at the ropes on her wrists, ignoring the pain to her wrists. She was going to tear her skin up, but she didn't care.

       Then, they heard a blood chilling howl - that sounded too much like Kristie.

       Alexandra's eyes squeezed shut, "Damn it! God damn it!"

       She sawed harder and harder, fighting the effects of the drug.

       Nikita knew what was going on in Alexandra's head. She was feeling guilty because they'd taken Kristie.

       "Alex," Nikita said gently, "If you don't calm down and ease up you're going to cut your wrists and kill yourself - how good will you be to Kristie then?"

       "Not any worse than I was a few minutes ago," Alexandra snapped back, biting her lip, and still sawing away at the ropes.

       Kristie knew what was going to happen to her. She was dragged down the hall, and tied to a metal ring over her head on the floor. They roughly yanked her shirt and shirt up, cut the ropes on her ankles. She screamed and yelled, struggled and fought as best she could. The first one to stab into her made her scream louder than any other time in her life, and she tried to tell herself in her mind that it was just like doing it with Tyler, or a target. But it was worse.

        By the time the second one was getting off of her, someone walked in, yelled at all three of them about damaging merchandise, and told them to take her back to her cell.

       Alexandra's roped loosened, and she slipped one blood soaked hand through, and shrugged the shreds left off her other wrist. She flexed her fingers in front of her, taking only a moment to examine if she'd cut any important veins, then went to work on her feet. Next, she untied Nikita, and then went over to the fourth woman.

       They heard foot steps, and Nikita and Alex stood on either side of the door, swaying a little from the heroine that was still coursing through their veins.

       The door swung open, and Kristie was thrown in. Nikita launched herself through the door, Alexandra a second behind her.

       The butt of a rifle came up and jabbed Nikita in the stomach, then over the back of her head, knocking her to the floor.

       One of them grabbed Alexandra and bodily threw her back into the cell, so she hit the floor and slammed back into the far wall. Nikita was shoved in after her.

       "What do you do for an encore?" the fourth woman asked.

       Alexandra pulled herself up onto her knee's, "Kick the living shit about of people who like heroine and sit by and do nothing! Know anyone like that?"

       Alexandra moved between Kristie and Nikita. Nikita was sitting now, her hand holding the back of her head. She took in Alexandra's questioning gaze and managed a half smile, "I'm ok."

       Alexandra looked skeptical, but turned her attention on Kristie.

       "I'm sorry," Alexandra said gently, and started to untie her friends bonds, "I . . . you should have just let them take me."

       Kristie shook her head, her tearful gaze speaking volume, "Why do you deserve that more than me Alex? If it had been the other way around . . ."

       Alexandra's head dropped, "I've gone through it Kristie - you shouldn't have to have . . ."

       "No one should have," Nikita added in, "Kristie, I know you don't want to tell us - but we have to know how bad you might be hurt."

       Kristie nodded, "I think I'm ok. I'm gonna be sore - but I don't think I'm ripped up or anything like that . . . lucky for me, neither one of them could brag about being well hung."

       Alexandra managed a short laugh, and Kristie joined her. But suddenly, she felt tears forcing their way up and out, and it was as if the enormity of situation finally hit her. In all the fighting, struggling, screaming and yelling it hadn't finally sunk it what had just been done to her . . . and just now, it did.

       Kristie turned her face away suddenly, her now free hand covering her eye's as if to stop the tears. Alexandra wrapped her arms around her friend and pulled her into her chest, and let her cry out her misery.

        Nikita watched them, feeling helpless and ineffective. She knew Alexandra knew how Kristie felt now better than anyone else, and she knew Alexandra would blame herself forever. It would never ease her guilt that any one of them would have done the same thing - and it was just plain old bad luck. But somehow guilt would lie heaviest on the originally intended victim.

        Three days later . . .

       All three of them scurried into the corner, as if they might be able to blend into the metal walls and not be noticed. But they were.

       When they came to inject them again, they came prepared for women that would fight back. This would be the 7th injection they received. The first two days they'd fought and struggled to get free. But the drug induced haze made it hard to fight - and there was always four of them. Someone always had a rifle with a very hard stock that would easily knock them down or across the room. By now, they knew they'd have nowhere to run to if they got out of the room. Dispair hung heavily in the air.

       One of them grabbed Kristie by the leg and yanked her out of the mass of arms and legs in the corner, and Nikita leapt out at the man who dared to reach for the strawberry blonde again. She grabbed his arm and sank her teeth into him viciously, only to be punched and knocked across the room. Alexandra was scrambling up to attack, and one of them grabbed her hair and yanked her back, slamming her into the wall.

        Kristie howled in desperate helpless rage as she felt the needle slid into her arm. The heroine induced haze was something she didn't want, no matter how nice it seemed. It brought up all the dark corners of her mind sometimes, other times, it brought up memories she had tucked away, that were hers and hers alone - things she'd never have again. She craved those moments. But she didn't want to be a slave to them - and she knew she was going to be.

       "Don't damage the merchandise!" Someone yelled, "What the fuck are we gonna tell Haskins when he sees them?!"

       "Fuck Haskins," One of the more abusive men said, "The three ask for it. He won't get shit for them anyway."

       "Four more day's of this shit and they'll do anything he wants them to do - look at them, they're already feeling it!"

       Kristie felt like her body was floating, and it was all she could do to roll over, and watch the spinning colors she knew probably were not really there on the ceiling.

        Alexandra could hear Darren's voice in her head. She knew it wasn't the comm unit, they'd been dead before they'd come to in the plane. She could hear him talking to her in Spanish, saying wicked erotic things to her.

       Nikita knew she was still on the ship - but she was also reliving the Christmas party. Michael had worn something other than black. He'd been affectionate and not cared who saw. It was a nice memory to relive.

       None of them cared about the fourth woman in the room, who looked forward to her twice daily fix.

        "Michael where are you?" Nikita asked the ghost in her head, "Why aren't you coming for me?"

       Darren had worked hard, fought himself to school his temper, his emotions to be as good of an operative as he could possibly be. He'd done well too. Better than anyone had ever expected, and he knew it. But he was reaching his breaking point.

       Operations was holding them back. Darren was already mentally planning how he'd go AWOL and rescue them himself, after all, he'd done it before . . .

       But he'd had help then. Every time he closed his eye's, he could see her face, she her sapphire blue eye's looking up at him with concern - the way she had in the truck when she'd probed his still healing belly. They'd gone after Michael and Nikita, despite the face that Darren was a few days out of surgery. Alexandra had felt so guilty about that. He knew she'd never forgive herself. She always left little kisses along the scar line when they made love.

        But Alex wasn't here to plan her own rescue with him.

       Darren suspected Stephen was thinking about going rogue himself. He suspected the thought was crossing Michael's mind as well . . .

       "So what's the verdict from on high this time? Is there an even bigger feather to put in his cap if we let them get sold at auction?" Darren snapped bitterly as Michael joined him at the comm station.

       "We could contact over site . . ."

       "Are you calling George or am I?" Stephen asked, looking at Michael.

       Madeline suddenly walked around the corner and into comm, dressed in slacks, flats, a comfortable top and a light jacket. She took in the four pairs of eye's. Birkhoff was nervous. Stephen's and Darren's were suspicious and angry. Michael's were cold and calculating.

       This had gone way to far.

        "Operations is unavailable, on some kind of conference call," Madeline said gently, "Walter is stocking the transport as we speak, and I've arranged for two teams to be assembled. We have to leave now. Birkhoff - run comm support by yourself for the first hour. When operations is informed of our departure, tell him I told you it had been authorized."

       The world We got everyone's attention, but Madeline didn't give them time to argue. She turned on her flat heel and started towards the van egress, expecting everyone to follow.

       "What are you going to do on the rescue mission?" Michael asked, following her into the van.

       "Whatever I need to," Madeline told him, "I don't have any mission hours in the last six months, this will be good scenario for me."

       And Operations won't fuck with us with you here, Darren thought to himself. He looked at Stephen and Michael, and knew they were thinking the same thing.

        Stephen looked over at the attaché cases stacked up, and flipped the latches, and opened it, revealing rows of syringes and little vials of medication.

       "What's this for?" he asked.

       "They'll be addicted when we get there," Madeline told him, "What we don't want is a plane full of women in withdrawals. I intend to rescue as many of them as we can."

       "And bring down the whole organization," Madeline finished.

       Day 6 . . .

       Nikita heard the sounds of someone crying, but she couldn't place who it was, Alexandra or Kristie. All three of them here pressed into the corner again. Was it safety in numbers? But they weren't safe. They didn't even fight the guards when they came with their needles and drugs anymore. Kristie had been babbling something about some dogs earlier, and some whisky, and someone named Jack Astor. Or was the dog named Jack? Or Whisky? Nikita wasn't sure. Nikita had spent hours talking to her mother, even though her mother wasn't there. She'd been on the streets again, though she knew it wasn't real, she'd begged her mother to let her come back home, but her mother had turned away. Nikita knew it wasn't real, but it still hurt. Alexandra alternated between begging Darren to forgive her to talking to Lora.

        Where was Michael? Why hadn't he come for her? He always came for her . . . maybe he was angry at her. It had been a cheap shot, asking him if Simone had always listened to him.  Maybe he was angry with her because she questioned him and what kind of semblance of a marriage he was able to give to her.

       Or maybe he thought she'd simply ran away, and took Alexandra and Kristie with her. Maybe in the ship, Section hadn't been able to track them. It would be a good way for Operations to get rid of them too . . . he didn't like women who questioned him after all.

       The door to their cell opened, and they all clung tighter to each other . . .

       "The compound is here," Michael pointed out on the map, "We can put transports here - move in from here, here, here, here and here - take out the guards, herd the captives into the transports, and go."

       Michael had pointed out several entry points. The compound was isolated. Easy to defend, but also easy to take. Especially easy since they were not expecting to be attacked.

       Darren looked up again, surprised to see so many operatives on site. There were cold ops here from sub stations all over the world. They'd all come very very well armed too. The thrill of a rogue rescue mission was addicting. Operations had gone ballistic a few hours after they'd left. He'd yelled at Madeline, Michael and Stephen. Madeline took the cell phone and walked to the other end of the plane and had a short conversation with him, that ended abruptly.

       They all split up to different vans and began the long ride out of the city, and to the compound at the base of the mountains.

        "Gunfire," Kristie announced, propped against the wall. Nikita was on one side of her, Alexandra on the other.

        "You're hallucinating," Alexandra told her bitterly, "No one is coming! They've abandoned us!"

       Nikita was afraid she was right. Section should have been here by now, Michael would have been here by now. Something must have happened in Las Vegas. She hadn't been there to save him. Or he'd simply let her go . . . NO! she told herself, not her Michael, but they'd had that argument . . .

       "Darren wouldn't - Michael wouldn't . . ." Kristie argued back.

       "They're at the mercy of Section and Operations Kristie!" Alexandra snapped.

       The sound the Kristie heard became louder, and Alexandra heard it this time. Nikita looked over at them.

       "What if they kill us?" Alexandra asked, "I always thought I'd die on a mission, but not like this . . ."

       "They want to sell us, we're worth a lot of money to them alive, nothing dead," Nikita told her.

       "I think I'd rather be dead," Alexandra replied, her mind taking her back to Iraq, and Michael trying to break her neck to spare her any more abuse . . .

       There wasn't anything sharp in here, and nothing she could really hang herself bye. Kristie and Nikita weren't in any shape to help her.

       "It's not over yet," Nikita told her, "Don't even think what you're thinking. We could all escape from whomever buys us . . ."

       Kristie looked over at Alexandra, about to ask what she was thinking.

       But the sound of gunfire got everyone's attention again.

       "It's getting closer," Nikita said urgently.

       Alexandra felt hope surge through her, but she was almost afraid to dare to hope . . .

       "Oh my god," Darren moaned painfully as stepped through the door he'd kicked open.

       The room was filled with woman half dressed, dirty, filthy, all of them stoned out of their heads and weak, too weak to do much. They all looked at them with fear in their eye's. Darren felt his stomach turn.

        Stephen and Michael were right with him, all three of them stopping for a moment.

       "Michael?" A weak voice called out from across the room.

       Michael leapt towards the voice, recognizing it before he saw the owner. He found Nikita curled up in a mass of limbs with Alex and Kristie, all three of them pressed as far into the corner as humanly possible.

        "Transports be ready at egress point B, team three move into my location," Michael ordered, squatting down in front of Nikita.

       He reached out gently, and they all cringed back, afraid.

       But Nikita hesitated a moment, then reached out to touch his hand, "Are you real? Or am I imagining this again?"

       Michael's heart shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. What kind of hell had she gone through had all of them gone through . . .

       "It's really me, ma chere," Michael used the endearment, and reached for her gently, "C'mon, we have to go."

       Nikita leapt at him, weakly throwing her arms around his neck. Michael almost smiled at the childlike gesture.

        Kristie accepted Stephen's help to stand, and leaned on him when she discovered she was weaker than she thought. Alexandra all but wrapped herself around Darren. Team three had started to pull the other women up off the floor and out of corners, and started to herd them towards the transports.

       "What's the status of hostiles," Michael asked.

       "They've all been taken out," Madeline informed him, "We have three captives alive for questioning. The compound is secure. Ryan, we want the computer box and CDs."

       Darren looked over at Michael his expression telling Michael that he thought Ryan would probably screw it up somehow.        

       There were more women to bring out, so Michael, Darren and Stephen let go of their precious cargo inside the transport van, and went back inside the compound. Madeline watched as all three women huddled together again, warily watching the entryway to van. They didn't seem to care that Madeline was watching them.

       More and more women were brought into the van, and Madeline knew the other vans were filling up. As soon as they had everyone aboard, they were moving again.

       It was on the plane that they started to see the first signs of withdrawals. Madeline gave a quick crash course in how to give the injections, and five operatives set about administering small doses until they could reach a hospital on American soil. Florida was 9 more miserable hours away . . .

       "I don't want to be here again," Alexandra whispered to Darren, looking up at him with tears in her eye's, "I promised you . . ."

       "Hush," Darren said softly, and felt his heart being torn apart as he slid the needle into her arm, and watched her body react to the drug. He hated that she would face this, again. He hated that it was him giving it to her now, even if it was just until they were safe, and not on a plane where they couldn't treat them.

       Kristie looked over at Alexandra, digesting what she just heard. Darren unwrapped a new needle and drew up a measure of the drug. Kristie stuck out her arm, "What's gonna happen to us?"

       "You'll detox, probably in medlab," Darren told her.

       "I never thought I'd look forward to this shit, and that scares the hell out of me," Kristie told him, her eye's betraying just how scared she was.

       "You'll get through this," Darren told her, and watched as Alexandra and Kristie both drifted off into oblivion.

        He'd have vomited if there was anything in his stomach.

       They landed in Florida, and George arranged for the agency to publicly take credit for the rescue. Section One's anonymity would be preserved. The women were taken to local hospitals to be treated for dehydration and various trauma. The detox centers would be full that night.

       Madeline pulled Michael, Stephen and Darren aside.

       "Take those suit cases, go to this hotel. You'll have time to clean up, and get back to the airport to fly to Oregon - and go out to the ranch at this address.  They can detox and recover there. I don't want all of Section One to see them fall apart," Madeline explained, "Maggie knows your coming. Don't let them try to start breaking the addiction until they get there."

       "Is this going to be worse than before?" Darren asked.

       "Much worse," Madeline answered, "Keep in mind, the drug is going to make them say and do things the don't mean."

       Darren's eyes wandered to Stephen and Michael. Madeline was being a little too nice . . . Darren thought.

       Alexandra found what she considered her 'signature' out fit sitting on top when she opened the suitcase. Snug black lycra miniskirt, black lycra tank top, her thigh high black leather boots and the leather jacket. The mini skirt came to just below her belly button, the tank to just above, so her pierced naval was exposed. The silver chain necklaces and hoop earrings where in there too.

        Darren watched Alexandra complete her outfit and knew he could almost see her building up her defenses. The outfit bespoke in your face defiance. Dare me and I'll make it look like child's play. I can and will do the impossible, and I refuse to live by anyone's rules by my own. But he also knew when she was dressing this way, she was feeling like a whore for Section. It made him sick to know that she felt that way.

        She was touching on makeup when Kristie came out of the bathroom, wearing jeans and a cotton oxford. She watched Alexandra for few moment's and glanced over at Darren, her expression telling Darren that she now had a whole new understanding of Alexandra. That made Darren sick too.

Nikita sat on the bed, having changed into her jeans and a T-shirt, watching all of them. Michael stood by close, not wanting to be far from her. He'd been there for the debrief through Madeline. Michael knew what had happened to them all, and he knew that Alex and Nikita had been lucky. Michael also knew that Alex would blame herself, and Nikita would to. Nikita would be able to let it go though. Alex just tucked it away inside. She was like him that way. Michael looked over at Nikita. Her expression said it all. What a mess we all are . . .

Oregon . . .

        The black van snaked its way through the curves of the back roads.  Nikita's head was cradled in Michael's lap, his hands stroking damp blond strands away from her forehead.  The withdrawals had wracked all three women in the past two hours.  The measured doses were getting smaller, while the time in between the administration of them was lengthening.  By the time the last dose was given, Michael had sustained a nice punch in the gut, courtesy of Nikita; Stephen had a nice scratch down one arm from an attempt to block a slap that Kristie had aimed for his face;  and Darren was lucky enough to block a well-aimed kick from Alexandra.  

       The shots were given, the syringes nearly ripped from Michael's hands, and they fell into the period of sweet, if short, oblivion.  Michael turned weary eyes to Stephen, who held Kristie on his lap, holding her bodily to him, her head nestled in the hollow of his throat, one hand stroking her back unconsciously.  He seemed to be in another world, totally absorbed in the woman he held, and Michael felt a pang of regret in his earlier judgment of Stephen intentions towards Kristie.  There was no denying the way the man felt in this moment of hell.

       "I keep telling myself there was nothing we could have done," Darren said quietly, drawing their attention to the other side of the van.

       Alexandra had managed to wrap her limbs around him in awkward positions, but she seemed comfortable. Darren looked like he was devastated.

       "If we had gone earlier, we would have risked not being able to rescue them," Stephen pointed out, "No support . . ."

       Michael knew he was right, but he wondered if other operatives would have refused to help. Probably not. All three - Nikita, Kristie and Alexandra were well liked, well respected.

       "This place we're going to," Darren asked, his hand stroking Alexandra's arm, "Are they set up to handle this?"

       "Maggie knows what to expect," Michael told him, "She'll have the room stripped almost bare, and four point restraints on the beds."

       Darren frowned, "What the hell does she normally do?"

       "Rehab," Stephen answered, "For Section ops coming out of long term undercover missions - things like this. She does physical therapy rehab too."

       Nikita moaned in her sleep, drawing Michael's attention down to her. Her expression was tense, her eyebrows knitted.

       "Kita?" Michael called softly, stroking her cheek.

       Blue eye's slow opened, looking up at him, filled with pain and confusion.

       "Michael," she moaned his name painfully, "It hurts . . ."

       He nodded, still stroking her cheek, "I know."

       "Can't you give me something?" she asked, "Just a little more, until we get there?"

       "We're almost there," Michael told her,  his eye's darting to the window. They'd just passed the first gate into the ranch, "Hold on a little longer."

       Stephen felt Kristie stir in his lapp, her grip tightening on his shoulder.

       Kristie opened her eye's, when they stopped, groaned and flinched away from the sudden influx of sunlight when the van door was pulled open. She let go of Stephen to shield her eye's.

       "Where the hell are we?" she asked, "and I'm ready for my next dose."

       Stephen's gaze flickered to Michael. This had to stop. They'd been keeping them on the edge of comfortable for the last 24 hours.

       "When we all get inside," Michael replied, scooping Nikita up again, and pulling her out of the van.

       Alexandra started to extricate herself from Darren, a complicated mess of intertwined limbs. She groaned, shielding her eye's, and turned, looking for Darren.

       "You don't have to do this you know."

       Darren almost fell out of the van when she said that. Stephen glanced back at them. Alexandra turned, and looked at him and Kristie, her expression telling Stephen to go away.

        He did.

       "Hey, we're partners, inside and outside," Darren told her, "What kind of friend would I be if I let you do this alone."

       She looked away, shivering, "The kind who is tired of doing this with me."

       Darren shook his head, "Querrida, I only did this once. The first time we both did it strapped down to a bed. I don't remember anything. The second time I was glad to help you through it - this is not your fault."

       She kicked at the ground with the toe of her boot, "This is gonna be a lot worse Darren. There was a woman on the boat with us, she's going through heroine withdrawals before - heck - we start to get all messed up every couple of hours as it is now."

       Darren cupped her chin, "Remember 'you go, I go'? It works every other way to. Now quit your tweaking, and lets get you inside and comfortable - as comfortable as you're gonna be able to get at least."

       Alexandra reached up, sifting his fingers through his hair, running a few strands between her fingers, down to the ends, feeling it, "I don't know what I'd do without you."

       "Whatever you had to," Darren whispered, and slid his fingers into hers, "Let's go."

       Maggie was a slightly plump woman in her mid 40's, with salt and pepper hair, steel gray piercing eye's and a quick smile. Her husband - Joe - hopped around the house and the ranch on a prosthetic leg. Joe handled security on the ranch, while Maggie took care of her 'guests'.

       "How does one man handle security?" Nikita asked, while Maggie drew up a syringe of liquid.

       "We got electronic surveillance and a crew of 20 here," Maggie told her, "The US army couldn't reach the house without us knowing about it."

       Nikita managed a crooked smile, imagining a group of green beret's marching up to the door.

       "Security is staffed by one of the substations," Michael told Nikita, "We're as safe as we can be."

       Nikita nodded, and watched Maggie come at her with the needle, anticipation etched deeply on her face - and fear.

       "Should there be so much?" Nikita asked her.

       "It's very weak," Maggie told her, "This will be the last dose."

       Kristie paced the room, clad in a T-shirt and panties. She'd seen the bed with the restraints. There was no way in hell anyone was going to tie her down. She'd told Stephen to stay away from her. He could sit on the other side of the room, but she didn't want him holding her down either. She told him so.

       Maggie came in with a vial and a new syringe, "Ready for your last dose?"

        Kristie watched the woman draw up the liquid, a lot more than she'd been taking.

       "Keep it," Kristie told her, "I don't want it."

       Maggie looked at her, "It's a weak strain."

       "I didn't ask to be kidnapped, drugged, and raped," Kristie spat at her, "I DO NOT WANT IT!"

       Maggie held up her hands, and purged the needle, "Fair enough. Drink lots of water, you're going to need it."

       Maggie came out of Alexandra's room, to see Michael just outside Nikita's door.

       "What was in the vial?" Michael asked her.

       "Saline," Maggie told him, "It's purely a psychological move. They think they're going to let down easier, their brains trick their bodies for a while. Madeline didn't tell me what else happened to Kristie."

       Michael shook his head, "A doctor examined her a few days ago. He saw evidence of minor bruising. She's ok physically."

       "I'm going to take the leather four point restraints off the bed," Maggie said quietly, "She's pacing the room as far away from the bed as possible. I don't think Stephen would use them anyhow."

       Kristie stood over by the window, and tapped the Plexiglas. It would be bullet proof of course. The sun was starting to set. Kristie could see cattle in the distance. She felt homesick.

       "You don't have to baby-sit me you know," Kristie told him, "I can puke all by myslef - I know that's gonna happen later on."

       Stephen was sitting on the bed, watching her, "I had to do this once - because of an undercover mission that went on way to long."

       Kristie looked over at him, "Do you want a medal or something?!"

       She was getting hostile again. At the hotel, they'd let them go way to long, and all three of them had gone from hostile to violent quickly. Stephen's skin was tender still from her scratches.

       "My point was that later on, you're gonna want some company," Stephen told her, "I know what you're feeling - part of it anyway."

       Kristie laughed, and it sounded bitter to her ears, and Stephen's, "I suppose that's one advantage of being a man in Section One. You don't get sent out to fuck people you hate - or have to endure lessons on something you used to enjoy. I don't suppose you've ever been held down and had it done to you either."

       "I've never been raped, no," Stephen replied, "You're strong enough to get through this Kris."

       She laughed, "But not strong enough to fight off three assholes."

       "You were impaired - and there were three of them," Stephen reminded her.

       She turned away from him, and turned her gaze back out the window.

Hours later . . .

       "Michael please!" Nikita sobbed, begging him, "It hurts so much!"

       Michael had shed his blazer and his weapon earlier. Nikita had spent a few hours trembling in his lapp, and now she clung to him, begging him to get her something to ease the pain.

       But he couldn't do that. He could distract her though. She clung to him, her finger digging into her arms.

        "Kita, it will be over soon," Michael said softly, smoothing her hair back.

       Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and Michael pressed his lips gently to her face, kissing the salty tears away. His hands started to massage her back,  kneading the muscles. He brushed his lips against hers, gently kissing her lower lip, her upper lip, one corner, then the other. Then, his tongue delves in-between her lips.

       Nikita parted her lips slightly, allowing him entrance, lost between the heady sensation of Michael touching her, even something so simple as this - and the vortex of disorientation from the withdrawals.

       Michael paid close attention to her reactions, not sure if she wanted to be a passive participant, if gentle or aggressive would be better for her, or what. His mouth closed over hers, his kiss becoming little more aggressive.

       And then Michael was witness to another one of those dramatic mood swings he knew were common with withdrawals.

       Nikita suddenly kissed him back much harder, as if pouring all of her energy into the kiss. She started to yank Michael's shirt up and out of his slacks, all but ripping it off his body. Her mouth never left his, her kiss almost devouring him, and she started yanking at his slacks, ripping the button hole apart in her haste, and yanking them down enough to accommodate her.

       She reared back, and Michael started dragging her panties off of her, Nikita yanked off her own tank top, throwing it across the room.

        Michael's fingers started to stroke her most sensitive spots, and he gasped and moaned when her fingers encircled his already swollen hard member, her thumb rubbing across the top. Her intentions were clear though when a moment later she was pulling herself up and over him. She'd wanted him at full size, and fast.

       She sank down onto him, impaling herself. She nipped his lower lip, and rose up a little, then slammed down on him.

       Michael had no doubts about how she wanted to make love this time. Fast and hard, and totally consuming.

       He managed to turn them so she was on her back, and he began to thrust into her hard, burying his face into her neck, hungrily kissing every bit of flesh his mouth could reach.

        Nikita wrapped her legs around his hips, arching up to meet his thrusts eagerly, reveling in the intense sensations coursing through her. She kissed his flesh at the juncture where his neck started to become his shoulder, and the first wave of an intense orgasm hit her, and the kiss became a bite.

       Michael groaned in an intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain, and reared up and bent down. He took one nipple into his mouth, suckling hard while he continued to thrust into her. He wanted to totally exhaust her, so she fell asleep or passed out . . .

       Her body convulsed again, Darren rubbed her back, trying to soothe her. He'd French braided her hair back earlier. He knew they'd find themselves in this position eventually. And now, here she was on her hands and knee's, with Darren behind her. . .

       She retched again, and Darren shook his head. There wasn't anything to toss up but water, and she managed to absorb most of that it seemed. Yet the dry heaves continued.

       After a few minutes, it seemed her body had tired of trying to turn itself inside out, and she sank back, letting Darren catch her before she completely fell.

        He cradled her in one arm, and wiped her face clean  with a wash cloth with his free hand.

       "Kristie . . ." Alexandra breathed, and looked up at Darren, "It's my fault - they were gonna take me, and she tried to stop them. . . ."

       Darren pressed a kiss to her forehead, "It's not your fault, she'd have done that for anyone Alex. The blame lies with the men who did it."

       Alexandra sobbed softly, "She's gonna hate sex now . . . Tyler, and those guys . . . I know, I hated to think of being touched for a while . . . but you helped me forget . . . ."

       Darren smiled down at her, "She's got herself a boy toy right now Red - she'll be ok."

       "He's an insensitive prick!" Alexandra cried, "She's not even supposed to be in Section!"

       Darren took a deep breath, "Querrida, she'd be dead on the outside."

       Alexandra buried her face in his neck, "That might have been better."

       Darren heard what she said, muffled. His mind drifted back to the last time he did this with Alex. She's busted some glass and almost managed to slice open her own wrists.

       But there was no glass in here, nothing she could use to hurt herself, and Darren wasn't going to let her out of his site.

       It had been a hellish night too. The mood swings were phenomenal. Anger, sadness, calm, devastation, back to being angry. She struggled against him when he pulled her away from the door she'd so intent on breaking down. She'd punched him, tried to knee him, and Darren finally grabbed her and threw her across the room towards the bed, stunning her. He never got violent with her ever - no matter how hard she pressed his buttons.

       Except for one time . . .

       The memory of his hand's wrapped around her neck when she'd shot and killed Anna was very fresh in his memory. Probably because Alexandra had that same terrified and surprised look in her eye's when he threw her back onto the bed. Darren was frightened to. He remembered his father getting violent.

        But when his father got violent, he punched and hit. Darren tried to remind himself that he was trying to contain Alexandra, not hurt her or punish her.

       He looked down at her now, her eye's starting to drift closed. He started to get up, and carried her to the bed, gently laying her down, cradled in his lap.

       Moments later, she was definitely asleep.

        "Dear god Alex, you will never believe how much I love you, will you?" he asked gently, knowing she was beyond understanding, let alone answering, "I didn't even know it was possible to care about someone this much . . . if we hadn't met through Section . . . things would be so different Querrida .  . . ."

       Darren stroked her cheek gently, and thought again how Alexandra has the worst luck of anyone he knew - and it seemed to be rubbing off on Kristie lately.

       "Keep your fucking hands off of me!" Kristie screamed, looking for something to throw at him.

       Stephen took a deep breath. At this point he would wrestle her into the four point restraints if he had them.

       She wouldn't let anyone near her at all. She'd retched and retched until she was dry heaving, and when he tried to help her get up off the floor, she attacked him. His arms were clawed, he knew he's have a bruise on his face, more than a few on his chest and legs.

        "I fuck on my terms! My terms alone!" She screamed at him, "No one takes that away from me! Not you! Not Madeline or that old pervert Operations!"

       Stephen stood with his back to the far wall, mouth agape. He knew it was a huge tactical error, but she wasn't attacking unless she perceived it to be in defense.

       Kristie paced the room, on the far end away from Stephen.

       "What the hell are you doing here anyhow? I thought I was a mistake?!" She demanded.

       Stephen wished to god he'd never said those words - and Madeline had given him orders to help her 'get comfortable' with her sexuality again.

       "Kristie - you've been around long enough to see Section use affection for someone else against operatives," Stephen started, "I was scared - I didn't mean it!"

       "Do I have stupid stamped on my forehead!" Kristie snarled at him, still pacing the far side of the room, "That was all part of your big master plan! Fuck me over - mess me up and get even with Michael! I may be new, but I did some checking! I know all about what happened!"

        Stephen swallowed, "I changed my mind Kristie."

       She laughed bitterly, "Jeff changed his mind on me a couple time's too! You do know who Jeff is? Right!?"

       Stephen drew a blank for a moment. Jeff . . . someone from her past . . . the man who was decrypting files for Red Cell.

       "I know who Jeff was," Stephen said softly, "This is different."

       Kristie laughed bitterly, and kept her pacing going, watching him the whole time. Stephen suddenly remembered what her last name was - wolf. That was what she reminded him of now. A Wolf, watching him, waiting for any aggressive move.

       She'd tear him apart if she had too.

        He couldn't leave her alone though. The first 24 hours were critical. Heroine withdrawals killed people. Their bodies went into shock from fluid loss and electrolyte imbalances. Cardiac arrhythmia's developed because of the severe strain to the body.

       If she was up and moving, and pacing, that was a good sign though. He watched her keep looking at the window, then look back at him. Suddenly, she stopped by the window, examining the frame closer, and then looked over at him, her glance warning. I'll tear you to shreds if you come near me . . . .        

       She felt around the seems of the window frame. Stephen wasn't worried though. He knew exactly how well this place was constructed.

       "Where's my gun?" She demanded.

       "Secured, you can't have it right now," Stephen replied gently.

       "Where's yours?" she demanded.

       "Same place," He managed a smile, "Kristie, you gotta be tired, why don't you lay down - I'll stay over here, I promise I won't do a thing to you."

       She started pacing again, watching him, "I didn't do a damn thing to get here! I helped Section! If it wasn't for me, Red Cell would have gotten that file, and decrypted it!"

       Stephen drew a deep breath, "I know."

       "And that old freak Operations ordered me killed!" Kristie snarled, "Just waves his hand - and poof - you're dead! Why doesn't he just demand the title 'god'?"

       Stephen didn't have an answer to that. What could he say? Defending operations was a mistake right now, but he didn't want to agree with her either. Operations did exercise some judgment. Even if no one liked his decisions . . .

       "Red cell tracked me down - I didn't expose myself, I was careful - it was just shitty luck - I had no choice. It was self defense! If I went to the police I'd have been killed!" Kristie snapped at him.

       "I know," Stephen replied softly.

       "I don't deserve to be here!" Kristie yelled at him, "It's not fair! I can't live like this!"

       "It's not gonna be like this again," Stephen told her.

       Kristie laughed at him, "Yes it is. Alex never went through Valentine training - and she'd got over a year on me. They're gonna use me! Pass me around!"

       "You're good on an assault," Stephen pointed out, "That's why Michael borrowed you, and Alex . . . Alex naturally seduces. Trying to train her to do things differently would ruin the techniques she naturally has."

       "She hates this place too you know!" Kristie snarled at him.

       "I know she does," Stephen answered.

       "And she doesn't trust you much either! Alex's judgment is never off either!" Kristie told him, "Darren's told me about tons of times when she just knew something wasn't right!"

       Stephen sighed. How the hell could he defend against that.

       "She doesn't know me - and she's close to Michael, who doesn't trust me," Stephen began to explain.

       Kristie glared at him, and kept pacing.

       Stephen wondered if she was going to wear a hole in the floor boards.

       Nikita very slowly started to move off of Michael, but he woke up instantly, his arms tightening around her.

       "Where are going?" he asked her gently.

       "Shower," she replied gently, "I didn't want to wake you!"

       Michael brushed his thumb across her cheek, "Why?"

       She frowned, "Because I know you've been awake a lot more than I have - relax - I think I'm pretty much done."

       Michael watched her, still stroking her cheek, "You should have another 12 to 16 hours to go - I'll take a shower with you."

       Nikita watched his face for a moment. She knew he wanted to be there for her, to take care of her if something happened. She also knew that Michael didn't trust the withdrawals.

       "Michael  - what harm can possibly happen in a shower?"

       Lots of things when you're breaking something like this, Michael thought to himself. But he wasn't going to tell her that, not right now. It would hurt her feelings.

       So his slid his hands down her back and over her buttocks, and gently squeezed, pressing her down onto his groin, and shifting. His body reacted instantly, and he knew she could feel him.

       "I just want to take a shower with you," he said, his voice husky.

       Nikita knew what he was doing - trying to spare her feelings. She didn't doubt that he wanted her, she could feel the physical proof after all.

       "So take me to the shower," she murmured, pressing kiss to his chin.

       "Darren?" Alexandra murmured, opening her eye's.

       She found his arms wrapped around her. He shifted when she spoke, and she saw one hand lift to brush her hair back from her neck. He pressed a light kiss there.

       "How are you feeling?"

       "It hurts," she murmured.

       Darren sat up, and leaned over here, "Where?"

       "All over - muscle soreness," she told him.

       Darren gave her sympathetic smile, "What can I do?"

       She sighed, "I don't know . . . have you heard about Kristie or Nikita?"

       "I talked to Maggie earlier. Kita is doing ok, she's sleeping it off a lot - I think Michael is wearing her out. Kristie gave Stephen hell for 18 hours straight until she passed out from exhaustion, but she's doing ok," Darren told her.

       "I had weird stuff going through my head Darren," Alexandra told him, "And I know she's gotta be all messed up anyhow, after what they did to her . . ."

       Darren closed his eye's for a moment. It made him sick to think about it.

        "I know baby," he murmured, "we oughta be done with this by late tonight or early tomorrow - and I'll check on her again in a few hours."

       Darren watched her face, watched her still slightly glazed eye's travel down his chest, longing and desire plainly obvious, despite the withdrawal symptoms she was fighting.

       She reached out with her hand, and rubbed his groin through his jeans, "We got a lot of time to burn . . ."

       Darren closed his eye's, giving himself up to the sensations so quick to take him. She rubbed him firmly,  and he felt her mouth on his chest.

       "Querrida," he purred, sliding a hand into her hair, stroking the back of her neck.

        She nipped at his nipple, quickly following it with a stroke from her tongue, and Darren couldn't help but moan. He felt her pushing him onto his back, and he let her, stretching out, keeping his hands in her hair.

       She worked her way down his stomach, kissing, nipping and laving as she went. He felt her unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, and he lifted his hips when she started to tug them down. She freed him quickly, tossing his cloths off the bed, and straddling his legs, grinning at him as she lowered her head down to him. Her hair fell forward, blocking his view, but it didn't matter.

       He could feel what she was doing.

       She ran her tongue from the base to the tip on the underside of his penis, stroked over the tip, then took him into her mouth sucking him in, then pulling back, and descending down again. She rubbed him with the roof of her mouth, grazing with her teeth. She gently grasped his testicles and rolled them in her fingers, stimulating him even more.

       "Alex!," he moaned, struggling to keep from coming.

        Hearing her name moaned urged her on, and she worked him a little faster. He felt himself tightening inside, and it was almost to hard to fight to prolong his release.

        "Alex, baby," he grabbed at her shoulder, "You gotta stop.

       She glanced up at him, her expression . . . wicked. She had no intention of stopping.

       "I can't . . . . I'm gonna . . . . I'm gonna come in your mouth of you don't let me go . . ." Darren gasped out.

       She made eye contact, but didn't stop.

        Seeing her so intent, the wicked gleam in her eye's was too much. Darren felt the spasms start, and he moaned, his grip on her shoulders tightening, as if that was all that would save him from slipping away into that temporary oblivion.

       He was vaguely aware of her rising up over him, of her reaching for the water bottle and chugging down  several gulps. He reached for her with arms that felt a little trembly, and pulling her down onto his chest.

       She nuzzled his neck, snuggling into him.

       "Ok, Red cell, legion - any of them could come through that door, and I wouldn't be able to do a damn thing," Darren told her.

       "You never ask me to do anything like that for you," she murmured into his neck, "You could - I'd do whatever you asked you know."

       Darren felt his heart twist. She would too. She loved him that much, needed him, was grateful he cared about her. It was these rare moments when he saw how vulnerable she really was that almost broke his heart - and made it all worth while.

       "I'd never want you to do anything for me that you wouldn't want to - so I don't ask. I know you'll do whatever I ask - even if you didn't want to."

       She smiled a little, "I'm asking you to ask."

       Darren sighed, "I don't want anything that happens between us to be uncomfortable for you Alex - I know you have to do things that you hate - for Section."

       She raised up and looked at him, "I'll tell you if I-"

       "Liar," he whispered, and pulled her down to kiss him.

       His kiss was long and tender, and Darren started to pull her tank top and panties off of her . . .

       Kristie woke up to find Stephen watching her, his gaze tired, his expression worn out.

       She looked around the room, memories flooding back.

       "I swear to god I didn't lay a hand on you," he told her.

       She frowned, looking at him, and then remembered all the pacing, her accusations . . .

       She groaned, sitting up, and scooted up to the head of the bed so her back rested against the wall.

       "I was on quite a tirade . . ." Her voice trailed off, and Stephen knew she was straining to remember.

       He managed a smile, "It's the withdrawals Kristie. Don't worry about it."

       She looked over at him, "I'm not. I didn't say anything I didn't mean."

       He should have expected an answer like that from her.

       She finger combed her hair, and looked at him, "I'm gonna go take shower - you can check the john if  you want, but I don't want company."

       He nodded, "The room was cleared before we got here. The shower is all yours. If you're not out in 10 minutes, I gotta check on you."

       "I'll be out by then," she told him, grabbing up a fresh set of cloths.

       The next day . . .

       Maggie was up early. When everyone woke up this morning, they'd be through the initial 72 hours, and she knew they'd come out ravenous. Madeline had briefed her about what to expect. All three women would probably eat enormous meals, then pass out and sleep. Michael and Darren would look like they'd lost a few pounds from not eating much for close to a week now. Stephen was the only one who would have thought of his body's needs.

       Madeline wanted them to stay for total of a week - to rest. Once Maggie was sure they were ok, they could have off ranch privileges.

       So this morning, Maggie was up early, frying up bacon and sausage, mixing batter for pancakes, and scrambling up some eggs.

       The first person she saw peaking out of the now unlocked room was Kristie. She'd obviously come fresh from the shower, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt.

       "Coffee?" Maggie asked her, reaching for the coffee pot.

       "I'll get it," Kristie said softly, looking around the Kitchen.

       She realized she hadn't done a very thorough job of checking out her surroundings on the way in. But that was because of the withdrawals.

       Kristie mixed in her sugar and creme, and sipped her coffee, "You've done this before?"

       Maggie smiled at her, "Oh yes. I get folks from the Agency, the all the different Sections - and we take care of detox, physical rehab, you name it."

       Kristie took a deep breath, "Is it just us here now?"

       "Yep," Maggie said, "Just the six of you. How are you feeling this morning honey?"

       Kristie managed a wry smile, "A lot better than I did when I got here - I still feel like someone ran me over - but I don't want to tear everyone up into a thousand small pieces."

       Maggie chuckled, "You sure had Stephen pinned down well."

       Kristie groaned, "I bet I made quite a show."

       Maggie shook her head, "I just monitor, just in case. You got some other problems you need to work through while your here."

       Kristie tensed up, "Madeline's ordering me to sleep with someone, isn't she?"

       Maggie sighed, "Not someone - she wants you to do what you need to, to be comfortable with sex again - and she recommends Stephen. However, there are a number of young men here who I'm sure would be only to glad to help you out."

       Kristie shook her head, "Somehow, I don't think Madeline ever did the stuff we do."

       "Yes she did," Maggie replied, "I saw her through detox once too."

       Kristie raised an eyebrow, "Really? Amazing."

       The sound of a door opening drew their attention, and Nikita appeared from the hallway, wearing sweat pants and a T-shirt, her hair curled into a messy knot.

       "Is that bacon?" she asked, picking up a coffee cup and the coffee pot.

       Maggie smiled. She'd been told Nikita's appetite was legendary . . .

       "Madeline wants me to get over any reservations about men and sex - and use Stephen," Kristie announced to Alexandra and Nikita, after all three of them settled down on a blanket under a shady tree.

       Alexandra looked over at her, "It could be worse, she could have sent Tyler."

       Kristie grimaced, "I'd give it up for life before I slept with him again!"

       Alexandra groaned, "I feel like a lethargic slug."

       Nikita sighed contentedly, "I love a big breakfast."

       Kristie opened her mouth and belched in response. All three of them laughed over it.

       "Seriously," Nikita said, "God forgive me - but I think Madeline's right. You were interested in Stephen - he's familiar ground - use him. He'll back off when you get freaked out."

       Kristie sighed, "He does not want to sleep with me - and there are a few guys that are familiar ground at this point, doesn't mean I want to sleep with them."

       Nikita looked over at her, "Michael?"

       Alexandra almost cringed.

       "He's not really familiar - I was an assignment after all . . ."

       "Kristie," Nikita said slowly, "I'm not pissed - the first time you are a target, the second time he was under orders to bring you in and he thought I was dead."

       "Girls - that has gotta be just weird . . . knowing you both slept with the same man," Alexandra commented.

       Nikita sighed, "It was at first - I don't spend a lot of time thinking about it . . ."

       Kristie grinned, "What was weird was thinking Nikita was dead - and then seeing her face to face - that was weird."

       They all laughed over it.

       "So what's the deal with you and Stephen now?" Nikita asked her.

       Alexandra raised her head, "Don't tell me he said that - that he doesn't want to sleep with you."

       "He turned me down flat before all this happened," Kristie told her, "Some kind of bull shit about not giving Section anything to use against us."

       Nikita groaned, "Argh! There must a handbook somewhere in Section for the men that I don't know about. That sounds like Michael."

       Kristie looked over at her, "As far as he's concerned, the sun rises and sets on you."

       "He used to try and deny it - us," Nikita told her, "Before you were here."

       Then he married you, Kristie thought. What a strange marriage they must have. Kristie knew that not even Alex or Darren knew about that marriage. Michael only told Kristie because he thought Nikita was dead, and under the circumstances . . .

       "He watches your every move - not the way someone watches their 'material' either," Alexandra told her, "The man wants you - he just don't want you to be used against him, or vice versa."

       "Or he's playing me," Kristie added, "To get even with Michael."

       "And it would work too," Nikita sighed, and saw Kristie bite her lip, "Relax, Like I said - I'm not the jealous type. If someone wanted to hurt Michael they could use Alex against him too."

       "Well I'm relieved you're not the jealous type  - you wouldn't believe the rumor I heard once when we all thought you were dead," Alexandra teased.

       "Oh I heard some good ones," Nikita told her, "I almost puked in my shoes when I saw the two of you in Amsterdam on that mission. Especially when he took you cigarette away, then the whole pack," Nikita told her.

       Alexandra looked over at her, "No way."

       "Yes way," Nikita told him, "One of my first missions, I wouldn't spit out my gum, he reached into my mouth and took it. He never let up on me for the longest time."

       "And now?" Kristie asked.

       "Now we argue over it - but he doesn't order me," Nikita answered.

       "I didn't wonder about you and Darren," Alexandra said, looking over at Nikita, "I was so thrilled you all were alive - I didn't have a chance to wonder."

        That and I was strung out, Alexandra thought to herself, then said, "And I was so busy accusing Michael of replacing Nikita with you - which was stupid, but I was being stupid . . ."

       Kristie took a deep breath, "I'd wondered about the tension between the two of you . . . and If I had something to do with it."

       "I tried really  hard not to like you," Alexandra said quietly, "But once I got to know you, I knew I was seeing something that wasn't what I thought."

       Kristie managed a half smile, "I thought you were a little jealous!"

       "Hah! In your wildest dreams! Michael is like my father or something . . ."

       Nikita grinned, "I've never actually called him 'daddy' myself. . . ."

       Kristie made a retching sound, "eeeewwww yuk!"

       They all giggled and laughed for a few minutes, and then they died down for a while.

       Finally, Kristie asked, "Ok Alex - since you've been here and done this - what worked for you."

       "Darren," Alexandra told her, "But you can forget that. I'm possessive - and as far as I'm concerned, I own him."

       "Oh no, don't want that!" Kristie told her, "Not that it don't look good - but I'm trying to keep my consumption of Section men to a minimum!"

       Nikita laughed at them.

       "Start off with stuff you can get away from quickly. Kissing, touching, foreplay stuff," Nikita told her.

       "Work up to the bigger stuff," Alexandra added, "and give yourself room to get away. If Darren got too aggressive, and I got scared - he'd let go of me, and wait for me to come back to him in the bed."

       Late afternoon . . .

        Darren woke up, having opted for a nice long nap. He hadn't slept much in over a week, and it was telling on him. Lack of sleep - and Alexandra's stunt she pulled on him with the round of oral sex.

       He knew Michael and Stephen had both turned back to bed after breakfast. They looked as miserable as he had felt.

       Now Darren just felt lethargic. But that was to be expected after the week and a half he'd just had.

       He saw something move out of the corner of his eye, and turned to took, and saw a cat lazily walking through the door. It stopped and looked at him for a moment, then turned around and left.

       I must really look like shit if a cat just left me alone . . . .

       He got up, and walked out onto the porch, and found Michael and Stephen watching the three women on the blanket in the yard.

       "Have they been out there all day?" Darren asked.

       "Yep," Stephen said, "Like cats lazing in the sun."

       "Speaking of cats. One just walked in my room, looked at me, and left. I must look really bad."

       Michael glanced over at him. His hair was tousled, he had a shadow on his cheeks, and his goatee and mustache needed a trim.

       "Maggie always has house pets around. There's a Chihuahua around too," Michael told him.

       "My grandparents always had one. It was a cultural thing - they believed they kept sickness from the house," Darren explained.

       "Did they?" Stephen asked.

       "Well . . . let me tell you what happened. They had this last dog - he died, a week later my grandfather died - a few months later my grandmother died. I always figured that if they'd had a back up dog . . . but how knows?"

       "Is that why they are so agitated?" Michael asked.

       "I think so," Darren said.

       Kristie walked out of the bathroom, and faced Stephen, who sat on the bed, his back to the wall, a newspaper on his lapp.

       "I suppose I just ought to get this over with, and prove I can do it," Kristie sighed.        

       Stephen folded up his paper, "Anyone can just jump in and do it Kristie. Why don't you let me try to get you aroused - and we'll go from there."

       She crossed her arms, "I guess."

       He almost laughed at her. She really was dreading this.

       "Come get into bed. I'm not gonna do anything drastic tonight."

       Kristie took a deep steadying breath, and walked over to the bed, and climbed into it.

       "Come sit with your back to my chest," Stephen invited, holding his arms open, but not reaching for her.

       Kristie maneuvered herself to sit between his legs, her back to his chest. His arms gently went around her.

       "Tell me about your home," he told her.

       She frowned, "You mean the one Section calls my home or my real home?"

       "North Carolina," Stephen replied.

       Kristie took a deep breath, "Its a lot like it is here - but not so arid . . ."

       He listened to her talk about the cattle her father raised, her family, her friends, school memories, a bar she always went to. After a while she really did relax back into him. He told her about some of his memories growing up, and they laughed and sighed with each other, enjoying the mutual company, and not being on guard for once.

       "So tell me about the first time you made love Kristie - what made you decide it was the right time?"

       She took a deep breath, "I don't think I've ever made love - once maybe - I started having sex in my late teens. The first time it was all hormones and curiosity. Not a very great liberating experience. But I'd read enough, heard enough to know that it was all inexperience. I . . . dated . . . this one guy who taught me some techniques - he liked to experiment and play - I was comfortable with him enough to play - so we did."

       Stephen nodded, "That's pretty sad Kristie - lots of sex, but never made love."

       She sighed, "I didn't want complicated - my folks were divorced . . . I didn't know there was a difference until recently."

       Stephen played with her hair, "Tell me about it."

       "I . . . I might be wrong, so I don't want to say," Kristie told him, suddenly nervous.

       That hit Stephen in the face like a wet mop. He knew exactly what she was thinking about. The night he'd spent with her, when she'd asked him to never go down on her, unless it was really them, and not the mission.

       And now she had doubts.

       "Kristie," He said softly, and he brushed his lips against her neck, "Let me try to please you?"

       She drew in a nervous breath, and nodded.

       He started gently lifted her shirt up and off of her, leaving her clad only in her panties. She tensed a little, but Stephen moved slowly and gently, cupping each breast in his hands, his thumbs slowly stroking over her nipples. He didn't squeeze much, just rubbed.

       She felt his breath hot on her neck, his lips brushing her ear, and she shivered. He didn't stop the gentle caresses though.

       Kristie was surprised she actually kind of enjoyed this.

        He slowly teased her nipples into rock hard peaks, and continued to torment them, and then after a while he slid out from behind her, and eased her back the bed. He  gently slid her panties off of her , and lowered is head between her thighs, and parted her with his tongue, stroking between the sensitive labia, up to her clit. He stroked over her there with his tongue, circling it gently, slowly building her up. He let her shift and writhe around without holding her still, keeping the slow sweet torment up until she suddenly gasped and arched her back, her body convulsing a little.

       Stephen slowly lifted his head up and looked at her, "You ok?"

       She looked a little dazed and surprised. Stephen grinned.

       "Are you gonna enter me soon?" she asked, struggling to push her self up.

       "Nope," Stephen told her, stretching out next to her.

       Kristie looked at him, "Why not?"

       "Tomorrow," Stephen told her, "I just wanted to make you come and relax a little."

       He gently looped an arm around her waist, pulling her back against him.

       She shifted, feeling him hard and erect against her buttocks, "Stephen - I'll be ok . . ."

       "Tomorrow Kristie," Stephen said gently, "The next time I'm inside you, I want it to be you wanting it for you, not for me."

       "I-"

       "No you don't, you just think you do, just relax Kristie," Stephen told her, stroking her cheek, "We got some time."

       Nikita found Michael typing away in front of a PC in Maggie's office.

       "You're doing reports? Here? Now?" Nikita asked him.

       Michael was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt - unusual for him. Nikita wondered if maybe all of his black slacks and black shirts were in the wash . . .

       He glanced up at her, and pulled her down onto his lap, "Say Hello to Walter."

       Nikita looked at the screen. Michael was in a chat room.

       Nikita reached for the keyboard, and typed in "Hi Walter - this is Nikita."

       Michael and Walter had been bringing each other current on what was going on inside Section and at the Ranch. Another mission had been breached - but they didn't know how and were keeping it quiet. Birkhoff was going insane trying to refortify his electronic security. Rumors were flying around about what had happened to Nikita, Kristie and Alex. The most popular one was that they'd really been sold - and were working undercover. Another one had them truly missing, and Darren, Michael and Stephen were searching for them.

       "Do we have a turncoat Michael?" Nikita asked softly, sifting her fingers through his hair, "I that Madeline had taken care of that with Nariff."

       "Nariff didn't make it through interrogation," Michael told her.

       Nikita sighed deeply, "When do we go back?"

       "Three more days," Michael told her, "Maggie and Madeline agreed on a time frame when we got here. Section has implemented closed briefings, all briefings will be flash until the hole is plugged."

       Nikita sat silently on his lap, thinking about how many times in the four years she'd been an operative that they'd had to deal with a leak. To often. Their directory had made it out on the market a few times. Moles had been planted. Operatives had been bought off. . .

       Darren  could see Alexandra. She was in her mission gear, argueing with Michael about something. She abrutply turned away, and took off running for something. Michael shouted to her to stop - she was going to be too exposed.

       Then gunfire sounded, and he saw Alexandra's body twist and turn, as if suspended in the air for a moment - then she fell.

       "NO!" Darren yelled.

       Alexandra shot up in bed, looking around, "What?"

       Darren sat up, "Jesus . . . I had a nightmare!"

       Alexandra looked at him, seeing his chest rise and fall because he'd been breathing hard, his eye's wide, his lips drawn in a tight line.

       "Must have been pretty bad," Alexandra said softly, wrapping her around him, "You ok?"

       Darren nodded, and looked at her, and ran his hands up her back, feeling her. Alexandra's expression changed. She suddenly knew it involved her.

       "Tell me," she said softly.

       "You were shot - a lot," he said, "I woke up."

       Her lip twitched, "I hate dreams like that."

       Darren nodded, and tightened his arms around her.

       The dry heat baked off of the old Chevy pickup parked by the barn. It rose in waves that shimmered the horses in the distance to shapes that belonged in a Salvador Dali painting.  Michael leaned on the tailgate, clad in faded jeans, work boots, and a cotton tank top, the standard issue clothing of the ranch.  Darren stood nearby, pitchfork in hand, waiting for Stephen to toss the next bail of hay from the loft.  He didn't have to wait long, as they saw the chaff rise in a cloud as the bail sailed from the heights to land in the loose pile that Darren had gathered below.

       Nikita, Alexandra, and Kristie had spent the morning lounging and recuperating after a very pleasurable night the evening before.  They were now gathered in a tight circle peeling a barrel of apples for the pie that would be served for dessert that night.  The conversation turned to girl talk the way it had many times since they arrived, as they watched the guys working up a sweat, except Michael, that is.  Kristie couldn't pass up the opportunity for a little fun.  

       "Hey Michael, whatcha doin'?  You look like a North Carolina highway improvement worker.  All you need now is a shovel to lean on till the time to get off rolls around!"  

       Nikita and Alex giggled uncontrollably when Michael cast a one-sided grin at Kristie.  

       "I'm the team leader.  I'm supervising," he deadpanned.

       "Now you have it down, that's what those highway workers say too.  Too many chiefs and not enough Indians!"  Stephen had leaned out of the loft and held onto the hoisting rope.  He slipped one foot into the hook, and lowered himself to the ground like an expert rock-climber.  Kristie watched him, enjoying the freedom to do so, without repercussion.  The sweat gleamed against his now tan skin.  Two days in the sun had left him with a tan that would have taken Nikita at least, two weeks to get.  Alexandra and Kristie had gotten their fair share of sun the day before, picking the apples that they were now peeling.  Nikita, having such fair skin, had opted for a huge sun-hat, but was still left with pink arms at the end of the day.  Today, sun block was the word of the day for her, and she made sure she was thickly coated.

       "I think he's doing an excellent job, not that he ever does a bad one," Darren smiled brightly, "that damned old truck may fall apart without him leaning against it to hold it up."

       "Now you did it, there goes your raise, now how are we gonna feed our sixteen kids???"  Alex bantered.

       "There's always the side of the highway baby.  I can find some cardboard, a magic marker, and make us a work for food sign; " he grinned brightly at her.

       "Yeah, but yours would say, will work for sex, " Nikita couldn't resist, and joined in, ribbing Darren.

       Easy laughter echoed to the house where Maggie stood in the large kitchen with her husband.  She was to report to Madeline in twenty-four hours on the progress of the female operatives' conditions.  As she and her husband stood arm in arm, watching and listening to the pure sounds of friendship and love coming from the yard outside, she was already forming the fraudulent report that she would be calling in…

       The afternoon wore on, chores were finished, lunch was an enjoyment, and the operatives began exploring a little more of their surroundings.  Nikita wanted to see the hayloft, never having been in one before, and Michael was more than happy to show it to her.  Alexandra had overheard Maggie talking of a new lamb that had just been born the week before.  She now sat, back against a fence post, Darren watching her every move as she stroked the lamb to sleep in her lap.  The mother sheep, more than happy for the break from the energetic youngster, was grazing a few yards away.  

       "So soft Darren, look at her,"  Alex having little to no experience with any animals other than the typical house cat or dog, was enthralled to be holding the new member of the farm family.

       "Him."  Darren said softly.

       "What?"  Alex lifted her eyes, not catching his meaning.

       "That's a little ram.  I checked for them earlier this morning.  Martha said that the mom had been a little too protective to get near them earlier, so I slipped some sweet-feed in here this morning to her, and got a quick peek for them.  You're holding the future of their sheep flock there.  His mom over there was sent out, and bred to a blue ribbon ram two counties over.  They weren't sure that she took, and were nearly ready to send her back out again, then, he made his grand entrance last week.  He's seems full of piss and vinegar as my Papa used to say.  They should have a blue ribbon stud of their own."  Darren sat back on his heels, smiling at the little ram.

       Alexandra finally felt her mouth close.  Hearing Darren slip into an almost country dialect, Alex's mouth had dropped open.  She could see from the dreamy look in his eyes that he was remembering back, and enjoying it.  Not wanting to ruin the moment with words, she merely watched him.

       Stephen had fallen into a conversation about old Chevy's, and seeing the condition of the farm truck and the condition of Joe himself, offered to change the oil for him.  Joe agreed faster than Stephen could finish his sentence and showed him where the tools were.  Kristie had been down on the ground, under the truck, with Stephen until he put the new oil filter on.  Knowing that he was nearly finished, Kristie dusted herself off and told him she'd be back in a few minutes.  

       The lake was as still as glass, the water reflected the trees with mirror perfection, but she knew that there were fish in there.  Kristie had her own conversation with Joe earlier that day, and after trading stories of monster bass, Joe had handed over his own rod and reel to her.  Pointing to a patch of soft, wet ground near the back corner of the barn, Martha had handed over a small spade and a clean coffee can.          Kristie had only had to spend a few minutes to find some of the nicest nightcrawlers that she had ever seen.  Coffee can and rod in hand, she had headed for the lake. Stephen finished up with the truck, rubbed his hands clean with some homemade lye soap, and stated looking for Kristie.  

       "Nope honey, I haven't seen her, "  Maggie reached up to wipe a small smear of grease from Stephen's cheek, and he smiled at the motherly gesture.  Joe agreed that it had been awhile since Kristie had left the yard, and wondered aloud where she was himself.  Nearing the barn, and hearing a few impassioned moans issuing from the area of the hayloft, Stephen changed his direction.  He and Michael had made a peace of sorts with one another in the past few weeks, and interrupting he and Nikita would probably be the worst mistake that he could make.  

       Darren and Alexandra had made their way around most of the animal pens and met up with Stephen by the lower pasture where the cows were grazing.  Alex thought he looked a little frantic, and wondered what had happened to Kristie immediately. The two of them had been inseparable in the past few days.

       "Have you guys seen Kris?"  Stephen's eyes continued to scan the area, searching as he spoke.

"Not since this morning.  I thought she was helping you with the truck,"  Darren answered for both of them, having been the last one to see the strawberry blond.

       "Oh God Stephen, you don't think she ran do you?"  Alexandra knew it was farfetched as soon as she said it, but couldn't stop herself.

       "No, Kris knows better than that.  She wouldn't even try it, that would be putting us at risk."  Darren shook his head, disagreeing with Alex's train of thought.

        "That's the truth, and I know that, especially after what she did for me…"  Alex dropped her head.

       "Red, she would have done that for anyone, and you know that.  Right now, the important thing is to find her!  Let's split up."

       Kristie leaned against the old willow tree, enjoying the feel of the thick grass between her toes and the breeze on her neck.  She had kicked off her sneakers, and pulled her hair into a careless ponytail right after picking the perfect spot.  A stripped willow branch now doubled as a stringer for the bass that she had been pulling in for the past half and hour.  Luck had been with her, and she had hit a bed, going through her worms as quickly as she could bait the hook.  She cast out again, and watched the bobber settle for a moment, knowing that was about all the time she would have before she had another fish on.  

       "Yes!"  Kristie giggled delightedly as she saw the bobber disappear, pulling back to set the hook.  The water churned as the big bass rolled, and Kristie could almost taste the fresh catch, with apple pie for dessert.

       "Kristie!"  Stephen yelled her name, then stilled instantly, listening for an answer.  He had circled the front pasture, near the cows, and had ended up near the barn.  Michael and Nikita, hearing the commotion, came down to investigate.  If he hadn't still been worried about Kristie, Stephen probably would have laughed at their appearance.  Both coated in a dusting of chaff, hay caught in their hair, and contented smiles on their faces would have convicted them, if Stephen hadn't already known what they had been up to.  

       "What's up?"  Nikita reached up to pull a long piece of hay from the collar of Michael's shirt.

       "Kristie's missing."  Stephen looked solemnly at them.

       Instantly in mission mode, Michael's mask was in place.

        "When and where was she last seen?  You knew we weren't supposed to let them out of out sight!"  Michael's eyes flashed.

       "Oh, is that right?  You expecting us to all go AWOL or what Michael?" Nikita stepped away from him.

       "This isn't the time for this Nikita.  She may have not recovered as well as you and Alex."  Michael clarified his statement quickly to diffuse her temper.

       "What do you mean, she may not have recovered as well?"  Nikita was amazed.

       "She's dealing with a rape now too!  She gave me around fifteen hours of hell until she finally passed out from exhaustion.  But, I've never seen anyone kick it like that successfully, that's why I'm so worried about her.  I swear to you Michael, she was with me.  She greased the truck while I changed the filter for Christ's sake.  She just finished before I did, and when I looked up, she was gone."  Stephen pleaded with his eyes, trying to see if Michael believed him.  He saw what he wanted, and saw Michael's hand come up to lie on his shoulder.

       "I'm sorry, we just need to find her quickly in case something has happened."  Michael turned back to Nikita.  "You and I will check the far side of the ranch, near the woods.  Stephen, you can cover more ground on horseback.  If we find her before you, we'll come back up here and ring the meal bell.  You can hear it from nearly any part of the ranch.  If you see Darren and Rouge, tell them to do the same.  Nikita, tell Martha what's going on, in case Madeline calls"

       Kristie suddenly jolted away. She'd laid back on the soft grass, closing her eye's and inhaled the strong scents of earth and grass around her . . . and fell asleep unintentionally.

       She sat up, looking up and around. The sun was on it's downward decent. It has to be late afternoon. How many hours had she been gone?

       She looked longingly at the pole and remaining worms. She'd have to fish another time. They'd be worried if she stayed much longer. Reluctantly, and pulled her string of bass out of the water, grabbed her coffee can of worms and the borrowed fishing pool, and started walking back towards the ranch house.

       Stephen heard the ringing of the dinner bell and felt relief and annoyance at the same time. It was early for dinner, so he knew Kristie had been found. She had some serious explaining to do. He turned the horse back in the general direction of the ranch house and barns.

        Stephen had covered the southern half of the ranch, and was starting on the northern half when the dinner bell had started it's peeling. The rocky terrain had him concerned. There were area's where a person wandering could easily fall off a ledge if they weren't careful, and seriously hurt or even kill themselves. But every place he looked, he found no bodies, and no tell tale signs that anyone had fallen.

       But there was a lot of ranch to cover. Pastures of cattle, pastures of sheep, and fields of various plants that were still growing.

       When Stephen reached the stables, Joe was already inside and he offered to take care of the horse for Stephen. A blind man could see the anxiety written on the younger mans face.

       "Where the hell were you?!" Stephen demanded.

       Kristie looked up at him, over a table of several neatly laid out bass steaks.

       "I fell asleep at the water hole," Kristie told him, grinning at him, "Sorry."

       Stephen looked at her, seeing her infectious happy grin, and he couldn't stay angry or annoyed. She was obviously delighted over her catch of fish.

       "You fell asleep - and caught all of this?" he asked, his voice much calmer, "I'm taking you with me next time I go fishing!"

       "I think the Section water hole is probably stocked with parhanna," Kristie told him, "You may not want me with you."

       A snort of laughter from the doorway drew their attention. Alexandra stood in the doorway, a kitchen apron tied around her waist, "I can think of a few people we could throw in . . ."

       "Rouge," Michael's voice came from inside, warning her.

       Alexandra rolled her eye's, and called back into the house, "You're only on that list half the time Michael, relax."

       Stephen didn't have to think hard about who Alexandra might shove into a pool of parhanna's. Jonathan, Operations . . .

       Dinner was a feast of Bass, garlic roasted vegetables and a green salad. Maggie made a point of making everyone take seconds, feeding and stuffing them to the point where they were all drowsy at the end of their meal.

       When they were done cleaning up the dishes and the Kitchen, Alexandra noticed that Darren slipped into Maggie's office, and moments later the tell tale sounds of a modem floated out. Alexandra had to smile. Darren couldn't live too far away from the internet.        

       "Maggie!" Joe called, "Who ya got in there?"

       Maggie, Nikita and Kristie had been grinning over some private thing all evening.

        Maggie called out to him, "Just the girls, bring 'im on in!"

       It was just after eight in the evening. Michael and Stephen had disappeared out to the barn to organize some gear for Maggie, and have their evening session of what Alexandra called "Guy talk." Joe had taken Darren with him to run some errand after dinner.

       The porch door opened, and Joe held it open wide, Darren walked through carrying something in his hands.

       "Alex," Darren started, "I got something for ya here."

       Alexandra's eyes widened like saucer's as Darren gently set the Chihuahua in her lap.

       "Oh my god!" Alexandra breathed, looking up at him, then at Nikita, as if to ask the other woman if she could really have the puppy.

       "Between me, Kristie, Darren, Walter and Birkhoff, someone can watch him when you're out on an assignment overnight," Nikita told her.

       "I know you love dogs," Darren told her, "and when you were delirious, you were calling for Stripe."

       Tears sprang up in Alexandra's eyes, and she blinked furiously. Stripe had been a dog she'd had as a teenager. He'd died shortly after Lora, but of old age.

        "I can't give you back Stripe," Darren said softly, squatting down in front of her, "But this little guy could sure use a home - and sometimes dogs are easier to talk to than people."

       That was all it took. Tears spilled out of Alexandra's eyes, and she hugged the squirming tan mass to her, and reached out one hand to hug Darren too her.

       Kristie blinked back a few tears and looked at Nikita, seeing her do the same. Kristie couldn't help but think about Whisky, the dog she'd left behind. Her family would have him now, he had a good life.

       The dog in Alexandra's lapp let out a sound somewhere between a bark and a yipe, and Darren flinched back.

       Alexandra held the little puppy up in the air, "Did you have something to say?"

       The Chihuahua's tail waggled back and forth, his little pink tongue darted out, wet his tiny little puppy lips, and he let out another high pitched bark.

       "Just great - he's already getting possessive of her!" Darren joked.

       Everyone laughed at his comment, and the discussion of names ensued. Alexandra finally decided that he looked like a "Pepe".

       "Now," Nikita began, "This is how we're gonna play it with Michael. He's gonna object - we all know how orderly he likes things-"

       Maggie cleared her throat, "I say he's therapeutic. I'll tell Madeline he is my recommendation for stress relief."

       Kristie looked over at Maggie, and grinned, "Can you recommend that they send me to the Bahamas for two weeks, without being on a mission then?"

       Stephen had stripped down to bare flesh and slipped beneath the blankets of the bed when Kristie was in the bathroom. Under normal circumstances he'd have made the disposal of clothing part of the foreplay. But this wasn't a normal circumstance. Someday things would be different for them - at least, he hoped it would.

       "I still don't know how Maggie is going convince Madeline about the dog," Stephen called out to Kristie.

       "I don't care how she does it, I just hope she does. If you could have seen the tears in Alexandra's eyes when Darren gave her Pepe . . . I've never seen Alexandra so . . . happy," Kristie called back.

       Stephen heard the tell tale sound of teeth brushing, the water running in the sink, and a few moments later, Kristie walked back into the bedroom, clad in a tank top and panties.

       Stephen couldn't help but remember the first time he'd seen her like that . . .

       "I've never heard of a dog being box trained," Stephen said quietly, watching Kristie move around the room, tossing laundry into a basket, setting her brush on the dresser.

       "It's not common, but it's done," Kristie told him, "You just gotta empty it often. Heck - if you can train cats to do it, you can train dogs to do it."

       She sat down on the bed, and slid under the covers, but remained sitting,  "So uh . . . what do you want to start with?"

       Stephen smiled at her, she was trying to be all business.

       He gently slid his hands into her hair, and pulled her lips to his, and kissed her, his kiss gentle and exploring.

       Kristie kissed him back, letting his tongue enter her mouth, slipping her tongue into his. She ran her hand down his chest and stomach, slipping under the blankets - and stopped when she realized he was completely nude.

       She broke the kiss and looked at him, "Do you always sleep in the nude?"

       Stephen tucked lock of hair behind her ear, and trailed his finger along the shell of her ear, "Only when I plan on making love to the person I'm sleeping with."

       The corner of her mouth twitched up as if to smile.

        "What if I just want to play tonight?" Kristie asked him softly.

       "Then we just play," Stephen told her, letting his fingers slide down her neck to her shoulder.

       Kristie reached for the hem of her tank top and pulled it up and off, and tossed it towards the laundry hamper, and slid her panties off, and sent them after the tank top.

       She climbed over Stephen's legs, straddling him, but just far enough down on them so his now swollen cock wasn't going to be underneath her.

       She pulled his hand down between her legs, silently telling him she wanted him to touch her there, and she pressed her mouth to his, and they started to kiss.

       Stephen gently parted her labia, his finger tips slightly massaging the sensitive lips. She was already starting to get wet, and he spread the moisture back and forth, drawing tight little circles around her clit, then stroking right over the stop.

       Kristie's kissed became more insistent as he slowly worked on the most sensitive places on her body, and she suddenly reared up on her knee's, grasped his swollen cock, and moved over him.

       "Kristie," Stephen breathed in her mouth, "You don't have to - aaahhh!"

       Kristie had just guided him to her opening, and let her body weight press him deep inside her.

        "If I don't get back on the horse now . . ."

       Stephen's arms tightened around her, his mouth pressing small kisses around her mouth, "You'll never ride again?"

       "hhmmm," Kristie murmured, raising up a little, then down again, just the slightest bit of movement.

       Stephen slipped one hand in-between them, and cupped her breast, his finger tips tweaking her nipple, "You control the pace."

       She nodded, her lips and tongue seeking out his. She raised herself up a little, then down again slowly, and Stephen knew she was experimenting with how he felt sliding in and out of her. It was slow torture for him, she felt so hot, tight and wet encased all around him, but he'd do whatever he had to, to please her.

       Her pace changed after a few minutes, becoming faster and harder, and her mouth left his, she arched her back, her head thrown back. Stephen knew she was enjoying herself now, totally focused on her own pleasure.

       He felt her inner muscles spasm a few moments later, and he let his own release come, his mouth moving on her neck, his tongue tasting her skin, moist and salty and something else that was distinctly Kristie.

       Nikita was almost dozing off, enjoying the feel of their sweat - slickened bodies melded together in the aftermath of their lovemaking. Michael made love to her every chance he got since the worst of the withdrawals were over. She knew he'd made love to her twice to distract her from the pain of the withdrawals, but he'd been especially tender the last two days. It was as if he was a starved child savoring a choice piece of candy.

       "She can't keep that dog," Michael said softly.

       Nikita raised her head up, "Michael - It's a done deal. Don't worry about  it."

       Michael stroked Nikita's cheek, "It's a distraction."

       "I should have kept the cat," Nikita told him, "You should get a pet."

       Michael sighed, "Madeline will never agree to it."

       Nikita chuckled, "I'll bet you a weeks worth of dinners that Maggie convinces Madeline."

       Michael almost wanted to point out that it was worth his while to lose that bet. Nikita couldn't cook to save her life. But he prudently held his tongue.

       "We're even going to dog sit for her," Nikita told him, and she flicked her tongue over his nipple, "So I suggest you get used to the idea. I'm sure Pepe will expect to sleep on the bed."

       Darren woke up to find Pepe sitting on his chest, a few inches from where Alexandra was half draped over him.

       Pepe licked his lips, and wagged his tail. Darren wondered if the puppy would ever grow into his monstrously large ears. He didn't recall his grandparents Chihuahua having ears that big, or eye's that buggy. Pepe wasn't a nervous dog though. Darren hoped the old superstition worked. Alexandra needed some good luck, good health and general well being.

        Pepe got up on all four of his tiny paws, took a two small steps and licked Alexandra's cheek. Alexandra raised her head up and looked at Pepe.

       "You gotta go - don't you?"

       Pepe wagged his tail in response.

       Alexandra couldn't help but grin. She looked at Darren, "Good morning."

       She pressed a kiss to cheek, and slipped off the bed, grabbed up set of clean cloths, and dressed quickly.

       "I'm a minute behind ya Alex," Darren told her.

       "Ok, but I'm just gonna introduce Pepe to the cat box," Alexandra told him, "Sleep a little more if you want."

       Darren shook his head, finger combing his hair, and watched Alexandra carry Pepe out of the bedroom. He felt the corners of his mouth turning up into a grin. The Chihuahua would be another reason for her to go on, a reason to be happy, a reason to fight hard to survive. The Chihuahua was also going to give Darren competition for her attention.

       Darren climbed out of the bed, and walked into the bathroom for a shower.

       "Good baby," Alexandra praised the tiny dog, scratching his head in between his ears when he did he morning business inside the cat box, and not outside of it on the floor. She stood up, and started back towards her and Darren's bedroom, and patted her leg, "Come on Pepe."

       Pepe leapt out of the box, and scampered after her. Alexandra kept looking over her shoulder, making sure Pepe was following her. When she reached the bedroom door she held it open for Pepe to walk through, then closed it behind them.

       She could hear the shower running, and Darren was not in bed. Alexandra stripped off her clothing, tossed it on the bed, and slipped into the bathroom.

       She slowly pulled the shower curtain back, seeing Darren's back to her, and he was slightly bend over, rinsing out his hair.

        "Querrida?" He asked, without looking.

       "You better hope so," Alexandra teased him, tracing his spine from his neck down to his tailbone with her fingers, "Otherwise you're in an awful bad position."

       Darren chuckled, still rinsing out his hair. Alexandra grinned, watching him. Darren was very proud of his hair, and he took care of it. Alexandra pressed her fingers into his muscles at his shoulder's and started to work her way down his back.

       "I don't think this is such a bad position . . . you seem to like being taken this way!" Darren told her.

       Alexandra pressed her body up against his, her hands snaking around his torso, her hands coming up his chest. Her fingers found his nipples, and she rubbed her fingertips over them, already tightened into hard little peaks.

       "Sometimes I wish I could find someway to make you feel what I feel, when you're inside me," she murmured into his back.

       Darren reached down, and took her hand in his, and pulled it to his lips, and pressed a kiss to her palm, "I think you feel pretty amazing, around me."

       He pulled her around in front of him,  "And I love the way you tremble when I wash you."

       Alexandra watched him with hungry eye's as he poured shampoo into his cupped hand.

       She tilted her head back, soaking her hair.

       Darren pulled her back from the water, and quickly lathered her hair, and then massaged her scalp as the water rinsed the soap out. He repeated the process with the conditioner, and then lathered up his hands with soap, and reached for her shoulders.

       He started down her arms, then dropped down to start at her ankles, and move up her legs. He reached the apex of her thighs and then jumped back up to her shoulders, and worked down her chest, cupping her breasts, teasing her nipples with his thumbs.

       She trembled.

       Darren's hand started to move down her body, massaging, kneading, caressing. He delved into her navel, pressed his thumbs into her flesh where her hips joins her legs and torso, making her moan softly, her body tremble.

       His fingers slipped between her legs, and he lifted one knee, resting her foot on the side of the tub. He parted her, finding her already wet in anticipation.  He stroked her inner lips, stroked back and forth over her clit.

       She was moaning softly, holding onto his shoulders to keep her balance, but Darren was merciless.

       She came quickly, crying out softly, her hands gripping Darren's shoulders almost painfully. He gently eased her back into the stream of water to rinse the soap from her body, then pulled her from the shower, settled her on the edge of the bathroom sink counter and slid into her firmly.

       "Querrida," he whispered to her, his strokes measured, careful. He wouldn't allow himself to come until he made her come at least one more time.

       Alexandra wrapped her legs around his hips, and reached up with her hands, her finger tips rubbing across his nipples. Darren moaned and gritted his teeth. His nipples were extremely sensitive, and Alexandra knew it. She leaned forward, flicking her tongue over one.

       Darren slid his fingers into her hair at the base of her neck, continuing his strokes.

       He felt her body start to react, her muscles tensing and contracting around him, and he let his own release come, washing over him in wave after wave of intense white hot pleasure.

       Alexandra slowly unwrapped her legs from around him, and her hands still holding onto his arms, and she rested there on the counter for a moment.

       Darren tilted her face up to his, his mouth brushing hers, "Have I told you I loved you today?"

       "Ditto," she said back.

       They both slowly trudged out of the bathroom, and into the bedroom to get dressed. Pepe sat curled up at the foot of the bed, having settled down on Alexandra discarded cloths. He saw them, and stood up, his tail waggled back and forth, his huge ears perking up.

"She has a what?"  Madeline couldn't hide her surprise.

"A Chihuahua.  Like the little Taco Bell..."

"I know what a Chihuahua is, I just can't believe what I'm hearing.  You know our rules about pets Maggie.  They're a ..."

"Distraction, I know, I know.  That's all I've heard for years.  Madeline, consider this before you decide to devastate her again.  The dog is a commitment.  It's helpless, defenseless, and utterly dependent on someone to care for it.  Alexandra has been suicidal in the past, it's in her file. What is the one common thread that runs the gambit when it comes to suicidal tendencies?"

"That the person felt they had nothing to live for."  Madeline couldn't deny the truth.

"Just in the past two days, she has worked harder at getting better.  The withdrawals hit her harder Madeline.  She'd just come through an addiction, then another was forced upon her.  Her body still remembers how good the drugs made it feel.  Like a person with phantom pain from a severed limb,

she's fighting phantom pleasure.  She knows what it will come to, but the temptation to let it help her escape is terribly strong.  Nikita, being more experienced, and having Michael helping her, has nearly recovered.  Kristie, by what ever means, went nearly cold-turkey.  With Stephen's help, and the relaxation of being somewhere that's close to the way her old life was, her recovery from the addiction is over from what I have seen.  We are still doing her sexual-rediscovery therapy, but she's making progress from what I read in Stephen's reports.  But Alexandra, she just needs a little extra help.  Madeline, she is a fascinating creature, and if you let us help her heal the deeper wounds, you'll get back ten-fold what you put into it."

"You know you're asking me to put my head on the block with Operations, don't you Maggie?"

"Yes dear, but for some odd reason, I think you'll be able to persuade Paul to see things my way."

"I don't think our relationship works the way that you remember Maggie. Times have changed, and so have we."

"Maybe you need to schedule a trip for you and Paul to the ranch, and we'll work on it."

"Maggie...you're certifiable."

       Michael and Stephen were just packing the last of the gear inside the back of the blazer when Nikita, Kristie, Alexandra and Maggie came out of the house. Maggie had sent Joe and two other ranch hands up to the camp site earlier that morning. The pit was already dug, they used the same spot each year. But a fire needed to be started and banked properly, and the spitted pig needed to be set up.

       They would camp in two man tents up on the plateau, feast on a pig roast, and drink beer and Joe's homemade whisky tonight. Most of the ranches security team would be there, the only people absent would be those that were on duty. Maggie and Joe tried to do this kind of thing often. Maggie was a firm believer that a little bit of fun went a long way in healing the soul and body.

       "Did we get the corn and the rest of the fixin's in the truck?" Maggie asked, peering at the now very full blazer.

       "Yes," Michael told her, "Stephen and Kristie will be following us on the bike."

       Kristie's head snapped up, "Bike?"

       Stephen grinned. He knew she was a huge Harley fan.

       "Lets just hope it runs long enough to get us there. Joe say's it runs, but not great. It's pet project of his."

       Pepe was tucked into the crook of Alexandra's arm, his buggy eye's alert and looking excited.

        "Where is it?" Kristie asked, almost licking her lips in anticipation.

       "In here," Stephen said, starting towards the small shed beside the barn.

       Kristie stood back while he rolled it out.

       "Grab yourself a helmet," Stephen told her, "And get me one too."

       Kristie found three of the hanging on the wall. She pulled two of them down, and walked back out of the shed.

       It was an old Harley. Someone had obviously been slowly restoring it. There were a few small dings in the chrome and body, but it started right up when Stephen slammed the kick start down with his foot.

       Kristie pulled her helmet on, and handed Stephen his.

       "I want to drive," she yelled at him, over the rumble of the engine.

       Stephen knew she knew how to ride, and well from what he had been told. He stepped back, and allowed her to climb on, then climbed on behind her.

       Alexandra climbed onto the back seat, settling Pepe in her lap. Darren climbed in next, and slipped his arm around her shoulders. Michael got into the driver seat, Nikita sat in the middle, and Maggie got into the front passenger seat.

       "Kristie has gotta be in heaven right now," Alexandra said to Darren quietly, so only he could hear, "You heard the story about how Michael got to her."

       Darren nodded, "All leather gear - Harley with all the fancy stuff - and she took over the whole mission."

       Alexandra nodded, her eye's darting up to Michael - who was deep in conversation with Maggie and Nikita. Alexandra wondered if Michael was thinking about the past too.

       The wind, the pulse of the engine under them - it was almost as good as the heroine she'd tried not to enjoy. Stephen was behind her, his hands resting on her hips, and they followed behind the blazer. Kristie was itching to take it out on a long stretch of freeway, and had been turning idea's over in her head for the last half an hour.

        But the camp site was just up ahead. The scent of the roasting pig reached them even now, and she felt her mouth water in anticipation.

       They were high on the plateau, about 100 feet from the edge of the cliff, giving them a spectacular view. Joe was hopping around with his cane, occasionally waving it at someone to do something. As they pulled up he waved at him, grinning at seeing her being the one to actually drive the bike. She didn't want to turn the engine off when they came to a stop, but she did. There would be time later. There had to be.

       "Thought you might enjoy that bike," Joe called out, hopping over towards them.

       Stephen was busy watching Kristie revel in her enjoyment, watching her face glow from the ride.

       "Hell yes!" Kristie laughed, "I loved it!"

       "Lets just hope it runs long enough to get ya back," Joe told her, "I'm happy we got the brakes fixed."

       Kristie's smile didn't fade though. She'd known the engine wasn't running perfectly, but it was still fun. She'd have to get herself her own bike someday . . . someday soon.

       She looked around the camp, her eye's met with Michael's, and for a moment, they were back in time, over 5 years ago, in North Carolina. She grinned, Michael smiled, and the unspoken agreement came to mind. It was a good time, a good memory to have - and in the past. The friendship was there, but they both loved someone else.

       The sound of a high pitched bark drew their attention, and all eye's turned to the ground.

       Pepe raced up to them, tail wagging. Alexandra was ten feet behind him, walking.

        "Well hello to you too!" Kristie said, picking the Chihuahua up, and she looked like Alex, "I think he needs a picture on the bike."

       Alexandra had her camera in her hand. Kristie wondered how many rolls of film the redhead was going to go through.

       Kristie settled the 3 pound puppy on the bike standing behind him for a moment to make sure he wasn't go to fall or slide off. He seemed to be ok, and she stepped back, and Alexandra snapped a few pictures. Pepe seemed to be posing.

       Darren sighed, and looked over at Nikita and Michael, "I'm rethinking this whole dog thing. Now I've got competition."

       Nikita laughed, "And he's cute too."

       Michael rolled his eye's, "She can't keep him."

       Maggie cleared her throat, "I've already handled it."

       Michael looked over his shoulder at Maggie, "How did you convince them?"

       "That's a need to know thing Michael," Maggie teased him, grinning.

       They spent the day setting up the tents, hiking up and down the plateau, exploring a cave half a mile away, and later on that evening, feasting on roasted pork and drinking homemade whisky. The security patrol checked on them several times throughout the day and evening.

        Nikita sat with Kristie and Alexandra, Pepe asleep at their feet, all three of them feeling buzzed from the whisky, enjoying the dry heat from the fire and the soft sparkles of light from the stars over head.

       "I keep waiting to wake up, and find out this has all been a very nice dream," Kristie said after a while, "that it's not real."

       Nikita bit her lip. She saw parts of herself in them a few years ago - and even now.

       "I know what you mean," Nikita said, taking a sip of her whisky, "Sometimes I'm convinced Section has a rule against having any fun."

       Alexandra giggled, "Even Michael's been drinking - and more than one - He looks like he's getting good and foxed over there with Stephen and Darren."

       Nikita had been watching him all evening, and it didn't take much to encourage her gaze to drift back over to him.

       Michael, as if he knew he was the topic of conversation, looked over at her, raising his glass, his gaze full of heat, lust and promise as it traveled over Nikita.

       Kristie and Alexandra howled.

       "Someone is getting laid tonight!" Kristie laughed, "If that isn't a 'I want you' look, I don't know what is!"

       Alexandra leaned forward in her chair, and looked over at Nikita, grinning ear to ear, "Does he tell you to 'Stand down' when you're done?"

       Nikita laughed with them, "No, but he doesn't 'stand down' for long!"

       Michael couldn't make out their words, but the latest fit of laughing and excited chatting started after he'd given Nikita the once over.

       "Michael's the only smart one," Stephen announced, "Darren gets Alex the dog - and she has eye's for only the dog. I drag that decrepit bike out - and Kristie would rather ride it than me!"

       Michael chuckled, "I was informed that the dog sleeps on the bed, even when it's spending the night elsewhere. I will not sleep with a Chihuahua. You got it for her, you take care of it."

       Darren held his hand's up, "I will take him all the time, I'm just thinking that I'm gonna have to fight for him . . . on a down note - how much longer do you think we'll have here?"

       Michael took a swig of his whisky, "Not long enough! Two more days, maybe. We're all going to be under a lot of scrutiny when we get back."

       Stephen lifted his glass, "Then we make the next two days worth it."

       Darren and Michael lifted their glasses with him, and they all downed another healthy swig.

       Maggie was sitting with Joe, the two of them watching the women off by themselves, and the men off by themselves.

       "How much more time do they have?" Joe asked her quietly, his arm around his wife.

       "Madeline wasn't sure. She agreed to another week, but I got an email from her that she was being sent to work on an assignment with the agency. Someone named Jonathan was going to pick up where she left off for the next two months. She wasn't real happy about it. She's worried that he won't consider their best interests," Maggie told him quietly.

       "What about Paul," Joe suggested.

       Maggie shook her head, "He won't let his own soul heal, let alone anyone else's."

       Joe shook his head, "They're a strong bunch . . . but I think another week would do them good."

       Maggie sighed, and rested her head on her husbands shoulder, "I doubt they'll get it."

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