Promotion
By: Kimberly
Nikita watched Operations movements as he 'conferenced' with Michael - up on his observation deck. She hadn't been invited to the conference - but this was one of the times he didn't mind. Michael was a level 5 operative - she was still level 4. There were some responsibilities that she and Michael didn't share.
Operations was obviously irritated. It showed in the way he stood, the way he'd dressed today - severely. He leaned forward on his hands, bracing himself on the railing. He had a scowl on his face.
Michael looked over the floor calmly, his emotionless mask in place.
Nikita had been standing over by Birkhoff's comm station, and she reached over with her good hand, and scooped up a handful of M&M's.
Walter was walking by, and stopped by them, " So Darren is the one and only operative to walk out of there unscathed huh?"
Nikita nodded, smiling at Walter, "He has the devil's own luck that way."
"Of course - he was stuck in that hole with me for damn near 20 hours," Alexandra said, hopping up behind them on crutches, "How lucky could the man be - I'm a miserable invalid!"
They all laughed.
"So what's the old man pissed off about this morning?" Alexandra asked, looking up at Operations from his glass tower, "Wasn't the hard drive worth anything?"
"Hard drive was fine," Birkhoff said, smirking, "Which was amazing considering how I got it!"
Alexandra rubbed the top of his crew cut head, knowing it would irritate him, "Sorry - I guess the whole idea of being eaten alive by Serrin gas just kinda made us a little frantic - be happy we even got the damn thing - I thought we were going to have to start using the assault rifle to get the computer off the desk."
It was a lie, but no one needed to know that.
" So Darren is a team of one right now," Walter commented, "That' probably what's gotten Operations all riled up."
Nikita nodded, "That would be my first guess . . . but this is Operations we're talking about, who knows."
The conversation turned to the various contacts section used to get to the chemical weapons plant, and how their information could have been corrupted.
Madeline's voice suddenly came through the intercom, "Nikita, could I see you in my office please?"
"On my way," Nikita said into the air, knowing the intercom would pick it up.
Nikita started over towards the stairs, and saw Michael and Operations leaving the observation tower. Michael continued down the hallway, and Operations went into Madelines office.
"Oh boy," Nikita said quietly to herself, and wondered what could possibly require both of them to be there.
She met Michael's gaze just before he disappeared around the corner. He gave her a slight nod. Whatever it was, he thought it would be OK.
Nikita squared her shoulders, and walked into Madeline's office. Madeline was standing by her plants, pruning them. Operations sat on one of the sofa's, an unlit cigarette in his hand. He was feeling a lot of stress if he was smoking, let alone considering doing it in Madeline's office.
Madeline looked over at him, a look of disapproval on her face, and he slid the cigarette into the pack again.
Nikita pretended not to notice.
"Have a seat," Madeline said, walking around to sit behind her desk.
Operations was in his dark slacks and dress shirt, in hard cold, colors. Madeline wore one of her business suits. Both of them looked tired.
It had been a rough couple days in Section One. Half of Michael's team had been killed. The other half were too injured to send out. They'd lost over half a team in North Africa, including the team leader. Most of a substation had been decimated by a suicide bomber, and the operatives who had survived numbered less than 20, and were all outside of the substation, on missions.
Nikita still had given up her loud eclectic wardrobe. Lately she'd chosen to dress a little more conservative. She had on slacks and a sweater today, heeled boots that hid under slacks mostly. Her arm still rested in a sling.
"We've lost the equivalent of 6 teams, between what we've lost here, and from the Portland Substation," Madeline told her, "And we're down four team leaders - four level 5 operatives."
Operations spoke up next, "You've been here five years. It's a little early for a promotion to Level 5, but Michael seems to think you can handle the responsibilities involved - knowing that it would take you out of his sight - and therefore out of his protection much of the time."
Nikita laughed a little, "I don't think I've enjoyed as much protection from Michael as everyone else seems to think I have . . ."
"And probably some of it you could have done without," Madeline added, smiling.
Nikita nodded smiling, "Definitely some of it."
" The position entails a lot more than what you do now. You'll be responsible for a group of new recruits currently in training. More will be added. You'll have several operatives besides Alexandra and Darren to supervise. You'll be planning some missions, supervising in the field and from here. You will have to make the decision to cancel operatives from time to time. Is that going to be a problem?"
Nikita shook her head, "No."
"You can take over Taylor's office. Birkhoff is upgrading your status as we speak. The operative files have had copies redirected to your attention - tomorrow, you, Michael, and the other level 5 Operatives will meet and reorganize the teams."
Nikita nodded, and stood up to leave, "I should get busy then."
She walked towards the door, and Operations said, "Nikita."
She stopped, and turned to look.
" Failure is not an option. I don't have to tell you how many lives you're going to affect," Operations reminded her.
Nikita nodded, "I understand."
Nikita found Michael waiting outside Taylor's office - now her office.
"I understand you feel I can handle this," Nikita said, smiling a little, "thanks for the vote of confidence."
"You were ready 11 months ago, when you took on Alexandra and Darren," Michael told her, stepping aside for her to enter.
Nikita pushed the door open, feeling as though she was entering someone else's home, that she shouldn't be there . . . Taylor's office . . .
Nikita knew Taylor, but not as well as she knew Michael, Walter, or Birkhoff. He'd been a good operative overall, from what she'd seen.
The office must have been cleaned out. It was barren. There was a laptop style computer on the desk - a chair against a wall, one of those vinyl sofa's against the wall. A more comfortable chair sat behind the desk.
There was a single lamp on the wall, behind and above where Nikita's chair sat.
Michael produced something from his pocket, fixing it to the underside of the desk top, and placing a key pad in the top right hand drawer. He keyed something in.
"Type in a 5 digit code - letters or numbers, it doesn't matter. This will allow you a modicum of privacy from audio surveillance," he told her, and walked around to the other side of the desk - allowing her to keep her code secret.
She typed it in, and activated it, "Am I being tested?"
Michael nodded, "We're always being tested Kita. But the promotion is real. They'll watch you carefully."
Nikita nodded, "Tell me about this other level 5 that we're going to meet with tomorrow."
Michael fingered the blinds on the one window she had, that gave her a view of the hall, "He's good. A team player - a playboy as well, but he leaves it out side of Section."
Nikita nodded, and typed in her password, and opened up her incoming file mail, "Jesus! Michael - there are over 100 people here."
Michael nodded, "You're going to be busy."
Nikita nodded, and opened the first file, "I guess I better get started - we'll have to rent a movie another night."
Michael nodded, smiling slightly, and quietly left.
Nikita had 10 recruits in training she was overseeing, with the assistance of 2 level 4 operatives. There were 12 operatives who were now her 'material' besides Alexandra.
She read through the files of the 12 operatives first, making notations on things she wanted to examine more. She moved on to the 20 recruits still in training, again making notes to examine certain strengths and weaknesses further. Then she started on the remaining files, all operatives who would be on her team, or Michael's, or the other level 5 operatives team. She knew she'd inherit at least a 1/3 of them as her material as well.
Michael appeared in the early evening, asking her how she was doing, and brought in to her. She thanked him, told him she was doing fine, and dove into the dinner Michael brought her, and continued to read through the files. It was close to five am by the time she was done. She set an alarm on the P.C. to wake her, and stretched out on the vinyl sofa to catch a nap, before her 8:00 am meeting.
"Did you hear?" Darren asked, when Alexandra let him into her apartment. He didn't have a key to the new place. Neither one of them asked, they didn't offer. Their relationship had changed. They were back on friendly terms - but it wasn't quite the same. It was like there was some kind of line between them, that they were both afraid to cross.
"Hear what?" Alexandra asked him, hopping on her crutches back to her chair, "I'm gonna let you help yourself to coffee or a soda or whatever."
Darren smiled, watching her, "Can I get you a refill?"
"I'm fine," she told him, and let herself fall back onto the sofa, "So what did you hear?"
"Nikita got promoted to level 5," Darren told her, "Same level as Michael - and there are a ton of operatives she's gonna have to oversee."
Alexandra digested all this, watching Darren walk into her living room, and sit down on the other end of the sofa, "I hope that's a good thing for her - Michael is awful busy sometimes."
Darren nodded, "I was thinking that. It means you and I will probably not be working on the same missions so much anymore, since technically I'm Michael's material, and you are Nikita's."
Alexandra frowned, the expression developing slowly, "That's gonna suck. I just about had you broke in!"
Darren laughed, "HA! So you think! Now I just don't have to watch over your sorry ass."
She playfully kicked at him with her good leg.
Nikita gave herself just enough time to splash some water on her face and change into fresh cloths. She walked into the conference room they'd agreed to meet in, coffee cup in hand. Michael was there already, along with three other level 5 operatives she knew of already.
"Congratulations Nikita," Frederick, one of them said, "I think - sometimes I don't think this is much of a great deal as far as promotions go."
Nikita smiled, and shrugged her shoulders, "Remind me to give you my honest opinion next time I get enough sleep to form one."
Michael gave her the slightest nod, watching her a little. Nikita knew he was measuring her stress level, how tired she was . . . he would always protect her if he could. It was just part of him. She smiled back, reassuring him.
The last level five operative came in. Michael knew him, so it was Michael that introduced him.
Jerome was already a level 5 from the late Portland substation. He had a quick smile and , just oozed charm too.
They all sat down at the conference table, and started to divvy up the operatives from the Portland substation, and the operatives that were now left without a mentor. Nikita picked up the largest amount, being the newest Level 5 and therefore the one with the lowest number of people to supervise. Jerome went through some things that they would all need to know about some of the operatives form the Portland sub station.
The meeting broke, and Nikita went to check on the Intel status of several missions that had just become her responsibility, and then to check on the status of the recruits in training.
She spent the afternoon strategising with a mission profiler. At 7pm she assembled a team, they had a briefing with Madeline and Operations present, and they were scheduled to leave at 5:00 am the next morning.
Nikita finally let herself into her apartment around 10:00 PM. Michael was waiting for her. She found him sitting up in bed, reading.
She shed her clothing quickly, and slid into bed. She took Michael's book from him, setting it on the bedside table, and straddled his lap, demanding his attention.
Michael smiled at her, sliding his fingers into her hair, massaging her scalp.
"How are you doing?" He asked her gently, his lips brushing the sensitive skin below her ear.
"You tell me," she replied, her fingers dancing across his chest.
"I've heard only good things," Michael told her, "Darnell will be a problem - you'll have to rule over him with a heavy hand."
"I know," she answered, and slid her hands down his chest, "Touch me Michael, I need to feel your touch tonight . . ."
Michael more than happy to do just that. His lips traveled from her neck, down her body, his hands caressing as he went, stroking her most sensitive spots. She ran her hands up and down his chest, touching, feeling, her thumbs stroking his nipples, something she knew got to him quickly. She reached down between them with one hand, wrapping her fingers around his swelling, hardening shaft, her fingers expertly stroking him. Michael eased her back on the bed, moving his mouth farther down her body, his tongue parting her, stroking her most sensitive parts. She climaxed quickly, and he entered her, driving them to another shattering climax.
Michael whispered that he loved her, calling her "Mrs. Deveroux," Nikita answered back the same, calling him "Mr. Deveroux," and slipped away into sleep.
Michael had his own mission going later that day. It felt odd, not having Nikita there on his team. It wasn't his need to protect her. If the truth were to be told, he did very little protecting at this point. Nikita was frighteningly good at what she did. But he was used to how she did things. He didn't worry about her slipping up. She looked for things a lot of operatives didn't.
It was Reggi that was on point today - Michael was running the mission from Section. He was still limping badly enough that he didn't belong in the field yet.
Nikita was out with her team, running the mission from the van. If she had to go out, she could - but she'd be better off nursing her temporary disability in the van. She had Birkhoff with her, and that made Michael relax a little. Birkhoff would fix anomalies faster than most. No matter how good she was the rest of the time, every mistake would be judged that much harder, because she was new.
Out of the corner of his eye, Michael saw Alexandra limping through Section, just now off the crutches - though Michael suspected that she'd avoided using them at home for the last few days. Like Michael - she hated to be down.
Another operative Michael didn't recognize stopped to talk to her in the hall. He was tall, medium build. He kept his hair cut short. It was blonde and wavy. He dressed in a tailored business suit. Valentine Op, Michael thought to himself. Michael glanced over again, to see that operative reach out and touch her upper arm. Alexandra drew back a little, but not far enough to break the contact. The man leaned forward, catching her arm, as if to steady her. Michael knew she was uncomfortable. Alexandra just didn't like to be touched. A few people could, but not virtual strangers.
She tolerated it, and then stepped back, to lean on the wall, favoring her leg supposedly. The man she was talking with must have gotten the hint, because he didn't touch her again. But he did watch her as she walked away.
That same man made his way up the stairs, and disappeared into Madeline's office.
" Gayle," Michael said softly, turning off his transmitter, "Do you know who that man was - the one that just walked into Madeline's office?"
"Huh?" she asked, "I wasn't looking for him Michael - I didn't see."
She had her attention focused on the screen in front of her. She took tracking Operatives very seriously.
"Target is secured," Darren's voice said, "We should have medlab waiting though."
"Why?" Michael asked him.
"His leg is broken," Darren replied, "Nothing life threatening that I can see."
The bone would never be set though. Michael didn't see the point in telling Darren that. Why waste resources on someone you'd dispose of after you were done questioning them. Michael stopped monitoring when the team was in the van, on the way back, and far out of the risk zone. Gayle kept communications open, and Michael told her to notify him when the team returned. He headed for Madeline's office.
Madeline smiled at Michael when he walked into her office.
"Michael," Madeline said, smiling at him, "I want you to meet someone. This is Jonathan. He's a psychological profiler. He and I will be splitting up the work load here for a while."
Michael shook hands with Jonathan, and felt . . . something. Jonathan oozed charm, sex appeal, charisma . . . Michael would have pegged him for a valentine operative first . . .
" I just met one of your protégé's Michael - yours and Nikita's that is," Jonathan said, "Alexandra."
"Yes," Michael said politely, "She's good."
Jonathan nodded, "So I read in your status reports. She's interesting. Outwardly she friendly, on the inside, she tends to draw back. She was a little anxious."
Michael looked over at Madeline. Jonathan had all of five minutes in the hall with Alexandra. That was a lot to assume after five minutes.
"Anxious?" Michael asked him, "She's on medical leave right now."
"I felt it," Jonathan told him, "I'm a touch empath."
Michael didn't react. So that was what he 'felt'.
"That must be a valuable tool," Michael told him, "She's used to being in the field. That's probably where the anxiety surfaced from."
"And she doesn't like to be touched either," Jonathan said, "that much I remember from her file as well."
Michael nodded, "She has her emotional scars . . . Haskel has been picked up. The team is en route now. Darren reports that the target has a broken leg - that's the only obvious injury."
"Good," Madeline said, "How is Nikita's team doing?"
"I don't know," Michael told her, "I didn't check."
Madeline nodded, and Michael said polite good-byes, and left.
Jonathan smiled, "He's not comfortable having an empath here. I had trouble feeling his emotions. Has he ever been tested?"
"Extensively," Madeline replied, "He's good at picking up emotions in people. So is Nikita actually, but neither one of them is truly empathic."
"But he's had some experience with one," Jonathan said.
"Oh yes," Madeline replied, "It was before we began testing operatives for these things. We had an operative - one of Michael's trainers in fact, that was empathic. His name was Jurgen."
"Was," Jonathan said, "He's gone I take it."
"Yes," Madeline told him, "For over a year. He kept his abilities a secret."
"I think that's a bad idea myself," Jonathan told her, "it breeds distrust - something that is already a problem by the sheer nature of what is done here."
"I'm afraid you're going to find yourself a subject of a lot of distrust at first," Madeline told him, "Our operatives are nothing like what you're used to at the agency. As you're well aware, none of them volunteered to have their life's career here."
"I'm well aware of what I'm going to find," Jonathan told her, smiling, "and I'm used to being the pariah of the group. All gifts have their price. Alexandra . . . doesn't like to be touched. I was under the impression she does some seduction work as an operative as well as assault work. How is that she performs so well?"
Madeline sighed, "Being touched was not a problem when she first came to us. She was sexually abused by her first mentor. He raped her, beat up her and another recruit - who did die. If Michael hadn't stumbled across it, she'd have died. She lived through the ordeal and managed to perform quite well. If I wasn't familiar with her before her initial attack, I wouldn't know she'd ever been attacked. A little over 6 months ago, she and Michael were captured on a mission in Iraq. She was brutalized in every way possible. Her recovery hasn't been easy - nor is it complete. She can perform, but it's taxing for her. She did have an sexual relationship with another operative here for a while - with our blessing for the express purpose of becoming comfortable with her sexuality again. She tolerates his touch more than anyone else's but she's still afraid - even of him."
"So she forces herself to behave sexually on the job," Jonathan surmised.
"Yes," Madeline told him.
Jonathan nodded, "Tell me about the man she's been involved with."
"Darren . . . he's half Costa Rican - his father. He killed his father by poisoning his with lethal dose of anabuse. His father beat his mother up daily, and often Darren, when Darren was home. His mother turned him in. Darren is a very emotional person, and his friendship relationships tend to demand an emotional response - which is interesting, considering that deep or strong emotion is something Alexandra tries to hide. He really hates pulling the trigger on who he deems as innocents - but he performs well the rest of the time. His biggest asset to Section One is that he's good for morale. He has a very highly developed sense of right and wrong, surprisingly enough. In his past, before he poisoned his father, he was essentially a child of the streets. He came to us BI-lingual. Spanish and English. Very few brushes with the law, not violent unless pushed to it, which isn't easy."
"He's no longer involved with Alexandra either," Madeline told him, "They've had a falling out. They're friends, but no longer romantically involved. They came to section at about the same time. They had the same initial trainer, and when Giles was canceled, Michael and Nikita took them over. They continued to train together. They're intimate on an emotional level - but the relationship has suffered lately. Darren had to seduce an old flame from his teenage years - and Alexandra canceled Anna during the ending assault, in self defense. It put a severe strain on their friendship. So bad that at one point he issued a veiled threat. Now, they've seemed to mend the fences. But they're not the same."
"They're not intimate now?" Jonathan asked.
"No," Madeline told him, "They were together once during his assignment to investigate Anna, and he said the wrong name in his sleep. She took it badly . . . ."
Michael retreated to his office, and immediately started a search for information on Jonathan. By nature, Michael was skeptical. He'd dealt with one other person who truly had the ability, and that person almost destroyed him not so long ago. That same person had done a tremendous amount of good for Nikita. While Michael was searching, Alexandra appeared in his doorway.
"Can I pester you for a while?" Alexandra asked him.
Michael nodded, not looking up from his screen at first. She sat down in the chair gingerly, favoring her leg a little.
"What's on your mind?" Michael asked her.
"Well . . . two things," she told him, "Did Nikita tell you I was taking up an old hobby - photography?"
"Yes," Michael replied, "She's said you're quite good too."
Alexandra smiled a little, "Not that good - I was wondering if I could photograph you some time . . . just when you're out side of section. I don't want you and Nikita to pose - I don't to that kind of photography . . . I just thought I should ask your permission first."
Michael was quiet for a moment, "If you're careful - don't follow me."
" I won't," Alexandra told him, "It would be sometime when we're all outside . . . and you'd know I had my camera."
Michael nodded his agreement.
"Who was the guy in the hall - his said his name was Jonathan, and that he was new here," Alexandra asked him, "He was . . . touchy. That's unusual here."
Michael sat back in his chair, "He's Madeline's new counterpart . . . and a touch empath."
Alexandra stared at him for a moment, "Empath in that he can read minds? I didn't realize that stuff was legit."
"Empath in that he's good at feeling other people's emotions," Michael told her, "Section is going to be very open about his role here."
"Then there are a few people here that are empaths Michael," Alexandra pointed out, "You and Nikita are very good at reading people."
Michael shook his head, "It's different. An empath - a true empath - can feel the same emotions you are feeling. Sometimes they can pick up more - if it's a very strong . . . thought. Nikita and I are just good at reading body language. We can be fooled easily - you mask things very well. When you try hard enough, I can't read your body language."
"Jesus," Alexandra breathed, "He touched me in the hall . . ."
"It's OK Alexandra," Michael reassured her, "He wasn't profiling you. It's difficult for someone like Jonathan to not touch, it's like pure cocaine to an addict. Part of Madeline's job is to see to the welfare of the operatives here - they do want to make things as easy as possible for us. I think that with someone sharing the work load with her - we'll see more of that."
Alexandra took a deep breath, "If that's supposed to make me feel better Michael, I don't."
He sighed. It didn't make him feel any better either.
Nikita was bone tired when she returned with her team. Appearing ruthless didn't come naturally to her. But she pulled it off. Darnell tested her authority right away. Nikita didn't give him an inch. He shut up and performed well enough for the duration of the job.
The mission centered around infiltrating a facility, taking out the guards, and bringing in their target. The mission was a roaring success. No injuries, and they had their target. She went through debrief with Madeline and operations in attendance. There was a new person there, who's reason for being wasn't explained at first. It was at the end of the debrief that Nikita learned what his position was - and he asked permission to touch her. Nikita agreed without hesitation. She had nothing to hide today, and she wasn't sure this wasn't some kind of dog and pony show.
She left the briefing to finish her report and send it. She was reviewing progress reports, just nearing then end of her day when Michael walked in.
"Hi there," Nikita said, smiling when he walked in.
Michael looked pointedly at the place where the security feature he'd installed was. Nikita keyed in the codes, and watches him as he walked around her desk. She felt his hand rest on her shoulders for a moment, and he began a slow gentle neck massage.
"Have you met Jonathan?" Michael asked her.
Nikita let her head fall forward, "Oh yeah - do you think he's legit?"
"Yes," Michael told her, "He met Alex in the hall this morning."
Nikita sighed deeply, "A little lower . . . so how do we protect ourselves against him?"
Michael started to work his thumbs down her neck, "We don't . . . in some ways. He can feel emotions, not read minds . . . just be aware that he can feel what you feel - when he's touching you - or something you have a lot of contact with."
Nikita grimaced, and reached back and grasped his hand in hers, "I should be home around 8pm or so tonight - what about you?"
Michael squeezed her hand, "I'll see you then."
It had been a question and a request for him to let her finish her work at the same time. Nikita was taking her new responsibilities seriously.
Michael saw her later that day, with a few of the recruits she'd been assigned, even later, he saw her talking with a few of the operatives that where now her material. She worked on a few more missions that were taking shape as well.
But by 8:00, she was letting herself into her - their apartment.
Michael had a glass of wine waiting for her. She took it, and sank into his waiting arms easily. He'd shed his jacket, he was dressed in his slacks and black shirt still, but it was unbuttoned at the throat.
"It gets easier, you're busier than normal at first because there is so much to cover right away," Michael told her.
"Hm," Nikita breathed into his neck, "let's have take out delivered, and curl up in front of the fire tonight . . . I don't want to cook, or clean up, or think."
Michael nodded, and reached for the phone, "Thai?"
Nikita nodded, and walked into the bedroom, and changed into a T-shirt and sweats. Michael watched her as she moved. She patted the sofa next to her, asking him to come sit with her.
"They're not forcing us to sleep with half the scum of the earth because we're going to have very conflicting schedules," Nikita breathed, snuggling into his side.
Michael nodded, "probably."
He spread out his fingers, caressing her stomach. His fingers brushed across the ring she had piercing her navel. He smiled. He remembered that time. Nikita had followed Alexandra through her rebellious streak. It was when they first found out the young redhead was going to Raves. His and Nikita's relationship had been on again, off again then . . . he remembered when he'd first found out about the piercing . . .it annoyed and aroused him at the same time . . . be glad I didn't pierce anything else!
Nikita's breathing had changed, and Michael realized she'd fallen asleep. He sighed, and pressed a kiss to her hair, deciding he'd hold still and let her sleep until dinner arrived. He'd let dinner go, but he knew she'd never forgive him for that.
Nikita made a point of always keeping the door to her office open. She was making a statement. She heard someone stop, and knock on the open door, and she looked up.
Jonathan stood in her doorway, smiling at her. Unlike Madeline, the smile did reach his brown eye's. Nikita had heard more than one of the women here this morning mention him. Jonathan was an attractive man. Michael had told her he'd pegged him for a Valentine Op at first.
"Can I disturb you?" He asked her.
Nikita nodded, and found herself hoping he didn't want to hold her hand or something like that. She wasn't comfortable with him, not yet at least.
"Sure," she told him, "Have a seat."
He sat down on the vinyl sofa, leaning back, crossing one ankle over his knee. He dressed in a nicely tailored business suit. Nikita knew right away it wasn't your average store bought suit either.
"I know you don't like games, so I'll get to the point," he told her, "You're the newest Level 5 operative here. I know it's not an easy transition - and you're not likely to ask Madeline for help. I'm at your disposal if you need me," he told her.
Nikita smiled, "I've had some practice. I trained a little . . .before hand. I assisted Michael a lot . . . but I'll pick your brain often I'm sure."
"Good," Jonathan said, and smiled again, looking around, "You're not comfortable in this office yet."
Nikita frowned, "I thought you were a touch empath . . . and I haven't spent much time on that sofa."
Jonathan laughed. It was a rich, hearty sound, "You researched me. I should have expected that. I don't read operatives usually, without their knowledge. I'm not feeling you on this sofa. But I've seen enough of your file - your quarters here at section one are drastically different from this room. Your personality alone doesn't fit with the . . . severity of it."
Nikita smiled, "I haven't taken the time to decorate yet. I'm going to have it painted a very pale gray I think - and put up some pictures. I have an operative who's a talented photographer."
Jonathan nodded, looking around, to envision the changes she was going to make, " A photographer? I missed that in the files."
"It's a hobby we didn't realize she had, she's only recently taken it up again - Alex," Nikita told him.
"I've met her already. A very intense woman," Jonathan said softly.
"One of the strongest will's in Section," Nikita agreed.
"Next to you and Michael," Jonathan added.
Nikita laughed, "Yes. If you put the three of us in a room, and locked the door until we agreed, we'd all die of starvation I'm sure."
"She's disobeying your orders to stay home and let her leg heal as we speak you know," Jonathan told her, "She's exercising her leg with a reluctant physical therapist down the hall."
"I know," Nikita told him, "If I order her home, she'll work with a physical therapist. If I told her it was OK to exercise it, she'd have done it by herself."
Jonathan laughed again, shaking his head, "You know your people well. My offer will still stand. It's part of my job to help the level 5 operatives."
"I know," Nikita told him, "I'll be using you a lot with the recruits soon."
Michael appeared in the doorway, and Nikita looked over at him, "Michael."
"I have some Intel on one of your missions for you," Michael told her, "Birkhoff just got it in, and he's in the middle of a decryption. I offered to walk it over."
"Thank you," she said, taking the disk, "Have a seat. Jonathan was just offering to give me some help when I need it."
Michael nodded, taking a position standing by the window, "You're going to have your hands full for the next several weeks."
"On that note, I should stop bothering you, or it could take months. You know where to find me," Jonathan told her, "Michael - good to see you again."
Jonathan left the room. He got the distinct impression Michael wanted to be alone with Nikita. He didn't need his empathic abilities to see the connection between them.
Nikita waited until Jonathan was far down the hall, and she keyed in the security code. Michael closed the door, and moved closer, leaning on the corner of her desk.
"What's up - Birkhoff could have sent anyone to walk that over," Nikita asked him.
"I got more Intel on Jonathan," Michael told her.
Nikita nodded, "And?"
"He has a weakness for emotional people. The agency transferred him here because he's addicted to feeling strong emotions. He becomes too personally involved often, with men and women," Michael told her.
"To personally involved, are you telling me he'll sleep with someone? Tell me something that surprises me Michael," Nikita replied, "Madeline sleeps with every male operative who's trained for seduction work. Sometimes I'm surprised she doesn't sleep with the women."
"She doesn't let it get personal. Jonathan does. He doesn't prefer one gender of the other," Michael told her, "And he has a taste for forbidden fruit. Be careful. He's bound to find out about you and I soon."
Nikita smiled, "You have nothing to worry about Michael."
She reached out, and brushing her hand across his thigh, coming to rest on his hands.
"You I trust," Michael told her, "But he's already noticed Alexandra."
Nikita felt her stomach twist in a knot, "He told me he'd seen her this morning."
"I don't think Madeline and Operations are aware he has this problem," Michael said gently.
Nikita nodded, "And it's not like we can just tell them we checked him out - though they've probably done some checking themselves . . ."
Nikita's laptop chimed, and they both looked over.
"Ah - I gotta go, I have a strict schedule I keep - I have to work with my recruits for a while," Nikita told him, saving the file she'd been working on.
She squeezed his hand one more time, and breezed out of her office. Michael had to smile. Who would have thought, 5 years ago - that she'd be doing this? Five years . . .that means I've been here twelve . . .
Michael left her office, giving it one more look. She needed to do something - it wasn't hers yet.
Alexandra saw Nikita walk in with Darren, and groaned, she was gonna get chewed out.
"OK, I'm beat," she told the trainer, and got up off the machine, "I'm gonna stretch out and go home."
She didn't give him a chance to argue. She walked over to the side, and started to stretch.
"I thought you were going to be resting at home," Nikita's voice said behind her.
Alexandra groaned, "Kita, I was bored . . . I feel fine!"
Darren had already gone over to where the other recruits were.
"I'd like to have you join us Alex - but if you re-injure your leg . . ."
Alexandra sighed, "I'm going home now Nikita."
Nikita helped her up, and said quietly, in her ear, "Let me know how often Jonathan happens to just meet up with you, OK?"
Alexandra frowned, nodding, "Yeah, sure."
Michael arranged to have his daily workout at the same time Nikita was in the gym with her recruits. They were on the far side of the gym, but he could still watch. He didn't have to hide the fact that he was watching either. Not in this situation. It was a martial arts class. She worked with the students, paired them up, had other operatives work with them. The end result was that she was keeping all of her people in continual training. He knew she had the operatives meeting with the sensei at least twice a week too. She held herself to that rule. Then she and Michael would practice for a while. It was the one thing they always did in Section together, at least twice a week - unless one of them was gone on a mission.
Michael felt a drop of water hit his stomach, and turned to look. Alexandra stood over him, grinning, her water bottle tipped slightly.
"Hey," she said, "If I begged and pleaded - could you get Nikita to put me back on active status?"
"No," He replied.
Alexandra made a face at him, "Michael your a pain in the ass."
"Must be here you learned it," He teased back, "If you're good - she just might let you back earlier than she originally said. She does have some tough missions coming up."
Alexandra nodded, "OK, OK, so - how's your leg - we got shot in just about the same spot."
Michael's standard answer was fine. It took him years to not do that to Nikita, and he knew Alexandra had been lonely and bored, hence why she was standing there talking to him, and dripping water from her water bottle on him to get his attention.
"It's almost healed. I'll be back in the field tomorrow," He told her and saw her eyebrow raised, "I do different things Alex."
She rolled her eye's, "Well, I promised Mother-Nikita I'd go home and rest . . ."
Nikita sighed, looking at the Intel she had, and the target they wanted to get. No matter how they approached it, they were going to lose some operatives - most likely the first two in. She'd ran every last SIM that she could, she'd gone through it with the strategist, and she'd explored every option there was. She'd even had Michael take a look at it.
She had to choose two operatives to go in first, knowing that they had a survival rate of 5 max. This was one of those things that Madeline and Operations would be watching for, to see if she could sacrifice an operative if need be.
And they needed to get this target. He could lead them to some larger and much farther reaching terrorist organizations . . .
Nikita scrolled through the abeyance pool of operatives. She had to sacrifice two - and though she refused to make a judgment call of who deserved it more out of that pool, she did want two who could at least make some effort.
She picked two, and then picked the rest of her team. She put Alexandra on the back up team. If they had to go in, she'd be able to perform - and it got the redhead back in the saddle slowly.
She arranged to go over the mission with Madeline and Operations. While she was walking up to Madeline's office, she saw Darren walking across the main floor with Max, and Reggi. Jonathan stopped them to talk for a few minutes. Nikita wondered what it was they were talking about.
The door slid open as Nikita approached, and she walked through, into Madeline's lair of false light.
"I was just looking at the mission profile. All of your options had between a 15 to 5 chance of survival rate for the two lead in operatives - yet you chose the worst survival rate," Madeline mentioned.
"The profile on the target suggests that he'd rather die than be caught - we need the information he has badly," Nikita told him, "I chose the method most likely to succeed."
"And your choice of the first two abeyance Ops was based on?" Madeline asked her.
"They were the most likely to succeed - from the pool of choices," Nikita told her.
Madeline nodded, "I agree."
Nikita took a deep breath, "We should go as soon as possible . . ."
"Sapphire, come in," Nikita's voice was heard on the cell phone.
Alexandra sighed, and hung up, and looked at Darren. He'd been making dinner, stir fry.
"Section?" He asked gently.
"Yeah," she said, "So much for dinner - can I take a rain check?"
"Anytime," Darren told her, and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her hungrily on the mouth, and broke the kiss after a few seconds, "I guess I'm not gonna be seeing you anymore on a lot of these - so no one will be there to convince you to save yourself too next time . . . So you gotta do it yourself - promise me."
Alexandra nodded, and replied quietly, "I promise."
She took her camera case, and left.
Nikita was direct and too the point. They were loading into the van within one hour. Alexandra knew she was extra quiet. But this was a serious mission. She'd seen Michael nod to her as she left. Now they sat in the van, speeding off to the airfield, and fates unknown. Alexandra looked at the people around her. She'd worked with a lot of them, some of them she hadn't. Some of them she'd rather not work with. Fisk being one of them. Nikita even put him in the lead position. Alexandra wondered why in hell Nikita would do something like that. Maybe she was proving a point.
Alex was on the backup team, and they took their perimeter positions. No one got through, they were told, no matter what.
Once they were inside, the lead operative was killed after a few minutes, the second one as well. It took them fifteen minutes to secure their target. The back up team had to spread out a little thinner, half of them having to go in. But they got their target.
Alexandra sat down next to Nikita on the way back, once they were on the plane.
"Hey boss," Alexandra said gently, and quietly, "You ok?"
Nikita looked over at the redhead. Her sapphire blue eye's held compassion born of a long friendship. Alex would trust Nikita with her very life. Nikita hoped she never had to break that trust with Alex.
"No," Nikita said, taking a steady breath, "But I will be."
Alexandra nodded, and leaned back in her seat, "At least they died - getting to someone one who would have killed thousands more, and it was fast . . . it still sucks, but at least it wasn't in vain."
Nikita nodded, "That's what I keep telling myself."
She opened up the laptop, and began to type. She wanted to finish her report on the way back. She wanted out of section as early as possible tonight.
Alexandra sat back in her seat, and closed her eye's, and started to drift off, then thought better of it. She might have a nightmare - and there was no one here that would recognize it early enough, and wake her, before she made a spectacle of herself.
Darren would know right away, before it got bad, and wake her up. He would just somehow feel it. It frightened her that they were that close. But he wasn't here . . .
She sat up, and blinked a few times.
"Why don't you catch a nap or something," Nikita said, seeing Alexandra flip through a magazine, obviously not really paying attention to it.
"I don't like to sleep on the transports," Alexandra replied, turning to the table of contents.
Nikita frowned, but continued with her report. Alexandra always slept on the transports when there was time . . .
It was two hour later, and Nikita was done with her report, having proof read it, checked for spelling errors, content, the whole thing. The entire plane was asleep, except for the pilots, Alexandra and Nikita.
Alexandra had read through the entire magazine, and was now examining an advertisement, every now and then, she started to nod off, but she shook herself awake every time.
"Alex," Nikita said softly, shutting down the computer, "Why are you trying to stay awake?"
Alexandra looked at Nikita, and then looked around at the other passengers, all sound asleep.
"I have nightmares Nikita," Alexandra said, her voice barely above a whisper, "Bad ones - and I don't want to wake up everyone because I start sqwaking in my sleep - I do that a lot."
Nikita frowned, "Why didn't you tell me?"
"What can you do?" Alexandra asked her, "They'll work themselves out in time. . . and while I work them out, I don't want half of section watching me."
Nikita sighed, and squeezed her younger friends hand, "You should talk to Michael - doze off Alex - I have a lot to work on - if you start to fidget, I'll wake you."
"I'm fine - I don't want to have you watching over me," she told her.
"Alex - If I need you ready at moments notice - I need you rested - and I've gotta work on another mission profile here - that will probably involve you - you catch a nap - and if you start to fidget or seem restless - I'll wake you," Nikita told her, " Put your head down, close your eye's."
Alexandra sighed, and leaned over, rested her head into the corner between the seat and the wall. Her breathing changed within minutes, and Nikit knew she'd dropped off to sleep.
Nikita loaded up the information for the next mission profile, and started to work.
Operations, Madeline, and Jonathan were waiting for them when they arrived back at section one. Nikita waited until the other operatives climbed out of the van and started towards Walter's station - two of them had their target by either arm, dragging him because he had a bullet in one calf. Nikita stopped in front of the three of them, shoulders back, her eye's briefly following the targets departure.
"The target took one shot in the leg," Nikita told them, "We lost Fisk and Sarten early in the sequence, I have full report prepared for you."
She held out a disk, and Madeline took it from her, "Do you have anything you'd like to discuss?"
"No," Nikita answered, "If there's nothing else - I'm going to get some sleep."
Michael wasn't in Section. Nikita checked. She did find out the he'd asked Birkhoff to notify him when she returned. Nikita told Birkhoff not to bother, she'd go find him, herself.
Michael heard the key turning in the lock, and knew it was Nikita. He'd gotten a phone call from Madeline and Birkhoff. Nikita was back from her last mission, and on her way home. Madeline told Michael that she had lost her two lead in operatives, and left it at that.
Michael took her coat from her, and hung it up, "Are you hungry?"
"No," she said softly, and took a deep breath, "I . . . part of me wants to cry, part of me is angry at myself, at Section because I knew it going in . . . the worst things is . . . part of me just doesn't feel anything."
Michael wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in close to his body, and he felt her body shudder with the first sob. He tightened his arms, and felt his own heart ache. She shouldn't have to make these decisions, but at the same time - because she valued life so much more than most of Section One, she was the person who should.
Nikita woke up to hearing "Josephine, come in."
A moment later, Michael's cell phone range. Nikita was already stepping in the shower when she heard it. A moment later, Michael slipped into the shower with her.
"You got called in too?" Nikita asked him, her voice hopeful.
"Yes," Michael replied, "We might be working on something together."
"Your Target, Duncan Shikke is a very paranoid, but very successful arms broker. Up until now, he's dealt strictly with smaller arms. Guns, grenades, ammunition, small missiles. He's managed to develop an arrangement to sell nuclear weapons. There are two groups that are bidding for them right now. One of them is a front for Section One. The problem is that Shikke will recognize the Section operative who's arranged this front," Operations explained to them.
"Shikke thinks he's meeting with two brothers. These two brothers were supposed to be traveling with wives. Michael and Nikita will pair up, and Alexandra and Darren," Madeline told them, "Shikke is also a cocaine addict. He generally refuses to do business with anyone that won't use with him. He thinks that he can tell the government agents apart from the legitimate buyers this way," Madeline told them, "As a precaution, Nikita will pose as being pregnant. This way, at least one of you will be of sound mind throughout the entire time."
Alexandra didn't blink, didn't react at all. Darren looked little surprised though.
"We have to use cocaine?" Darren said, "I . . . I thought that stuff was supposed to be addictive - within the first one to two uses."
"The cocaine that Shikke uses is very pure. No doubt you'll be addicted after the first dose. We'll arrange for detox upon your return," Madeline told them, "I don't think I need to remind you all how important this is. We need to find out who is supplying Shikke with nuclear devices to broker."
"When do we leave," Michael asked the next question.
"Right away," Madeline told replied, "A wardrobe had already been arranged - Nikita, I have something for you to wear underneath clothing so you appear to be pregnant."
Nikita followed Madeline into wardrobe. Madeline had an insert for Nikita to wear under her cloths, that made her appear to be only a few months pregnant. Her stomach would be just rounded enough to show, but not so large that she looked like she was 7 months along.
"These pills, when taken daily - will make you retain just enough water - so you have the same type of retention that most pregnant women do," Madeline told her, " Needless to say - check for camera's before you undress."
Nikita nodded, and changed cloths.
Alexandra came out from behind the curtain, dressed in an outfit that fit with her role. Short skirt, tight middift top.
"Nikita," Alexandra smiled at Nikita, frowning in front of the mirror, in an outfit that really showed her stomach, "You are just glowing!"
Nikita rolled her eye's, and looked over at Alexandra, "Don't bend over in that skirt."
Michael felt something catch in his throat, when he saw Nikita walking out of Madeline's office, looking just a few months pregnant.
"If someone brushes up against you, will this feel real enough to pass?" Michael asked quietly.
Nikita nodded, and took his hand, and pressed it to her stomach, "Feels just as firm as I would feel - or so Madeline say's. I've never been pregnant, so I don't know."
Michael wanted to yank his hand away, but he drew it away gently. It almost hurt to see Nikita looking pregnant. It reminded him that she never could be, that they could never risk it . . .
They remained quiet, until they were out of Section One, and on the way to the airport.
"What is Section really going to do when the three of us come back addicted," Alexandra asked quietly, "We're going to be with this guy for five days."
"Provide detox treatment," Michael told her.
"You sound like you've done this before," Darren mentioned.
"Twice," Michael answered, and looked over at them, his mask in place.
Alexandra looked over at Nikita, who's expression told her that she was worried.
"I've never used drugs," Alexandra said after a few minutes, "I never even smoked a joint when I was a kid - if this stuff is so pure . . . what's it going to do to me?"
"Maybe we can talk Shikke into not having you use," Michael told her, "If you have to - take very small amounts."
Darren sighed, " I wish I could say I was such a good teenager - but I can say that I was never a big cocaine user. I tried it three times. It was a great high - but a buddy of mine OD'd, scared the shit out of me. I never even smoked a joint after that . . ."
"So you two are brothers . . .you look nothing alike," the Shikke said, while the servant poured expensive wine into four glasses, orange juice into a fifth for Nikita.
"We had separate fathers," Michael replied, "My father died soon after I was born. My brothers father . . . He just left soon after Darren was born."
Michael looped an arm around Darren's neck, "We stick together, we always have."
"And your mother - what happened to her?"
Darren rolled his eye's, and took a big sip of his wine, "Our mother . . . married some other loser not so long ago. An old man with children older than her . . ."
Shikke laughed at them, and his eye's traveled over to Nikita and Alexandra, who had taken up seats next to each other on one of the sofas. Nikita leaned back with her hands on her stomach, Alexandra sat there looking bored.
Shikke asked how far along Nikita was. He asked Alexandra questions. They were being checked out. Michael tried to turn the conversation to business - it would be out of place if he didn't. Shikke told them they'd talk business tomorrow.
They ate huge dinners, drank more wine, and hours later, Shikke brought out the cocaine.
"This is the finest snow on the planet," Shikke bragged, starting to cut out several lines, "Come, I insist - all of you - well, not you of course."
He'd been looking at Nikita, when he said not you of course. Shikke had already managed to find a way to pat Nikita's stomach, and he was satisfied that she was pregnant.
Alexandra snuggled into Darren's side, watching Shikke cut the cocaine into lines.
"I uh . . . I've never actually done this . . ."
Darren laughed, "My wife . . . I've done my best to corrupt her - but I'm still working on it."
Shikke looked up at her, "All of my guests use it - and You Nikita, are the only exception."
The threat hung in the air.
"You'll be fine baby," Darren said, running his hand down over her hip, and he said in her ear, just loud enough for Shikke to hear, "Sex when your high on cocaine is fucking amazing . . ."
Alexandra swallowed hard, knowing Darren was playing the role. She had no choice, and she knew it.
Shikke did his lines, and they all watched him expectantly, and he nodded to Michael, "The next two are yours - let me know if it's not the best shit you've ever had."
Nikita watched as Michael leaned forward, and snorted up his two lines. He stepped back, pinching the bridge of his nose, his eye's closed.
"Very good shit . . ." He said after a moment, a grin spreading across his lips. He reached for Nikita.
Darren went next. It has been years since he'd done this - and it had only been a couple times. The initial sensation was a burning in his sinuses. The next sensation was a phenomenal feeling of Euphoria.
"Damn," He sighed, and saw Shikke cutting another line, looking at Alexandra.
"Just a small one," Shikke said, "First times are done best if they are shared - wouldn't you agree?"
Alexandra took a deep breath, staring at the innocent looking little flecks of powder, arranged in a thin row. She felt Darren sway a little, his hand gripping her hip.
She took the straw, and started to lean forward, her heart pounding so hard she was sure everyone could hear it.
"If your husband can't give you the fuck of the century after tonight, you let me know," Shikke said just a she started to line up the straw.
Michael, Nikita and Darren froze, afraid of what Alexandra was going to say next. It had to be one of the worst things anyone could say to her at this moment, considering what had gone on in the last couple months.
"I get the fuck of the century every night," She told him, grinning wickedly, "We've never needed any help - but thanks."
She sniffed hard, gasping at the sudden burning sensation, staggering back.
Darren caught her, holding her up. Alexandra shook her head, trying to get away from the unfamiliar feeling, her world seeming to twist and turn, become unstable all around her.
"Easy there baby," Darren said in her ear, wrapping his arms tightly around her.
"Your brother doesn't play much, does he," Shikke said to Michael, watching them.
Michael laughed, and Nikita fought to keep the smile on her face. She hated this. She knew Michael hated this . . .
"My Little brother . . ." Michael said, picking up the bottle and pouring himself more wine, "He's still a newly wed . . . and this one led him a merry chase . . . You should have seen what we did to him at his bachelors party."
Nikita watches as Alexandra opened her eye's, blinking a few times, " Oh my god . . . this is . . .I like this . . ."
Nikita forced herself to laugh, "You two should have seen what we did to Alex for her batchelorette party."
Alexandra had the presence of mind to play along with it, and laugh with Nikita. She reached up and threaded her fingers into Darren's hair, " Oh yeah, that was . . . one helluva party."
Shikke's girlfriend did her two lines, and she wrapped herself around Shikke, reaching into his cloths.
Nikita fought her hands not to shake as she turned the door knob to the room she and Michael had been given. Michael's mouth was already on her neck, kissing and nipping at her. He whispered what he wanted to do to her in her ear, in French. He still had the presence of mind to remember that they had to hide her false pregnancy though. Once they were in the room, he patted her butt, and told her to go put on one of those satiny things, and come to bed.
Nikita pulled out a red night gown and walked into the bathroom. She quickly changed, and walked back out into the bedroom. Michael was already in bed, waiting for her. She climbed into bed next to him, and said something about it being a little chilly.
"I'll keep you warm," He told her, pulling the blankets up higher.
He kissed her hungrily on the mouth, and moved to her ear, "How do you get whatever the hell that is off of you?"
She was already pulling it down and off, it slid on and off like panties would. Michael realized what she was doing, and smiled at her, pulling the night gown off of her shoulders, and down just below her breasts. He took one nipple into his mouth, and slid his hand down her body, his fingers parting her.
"Michael," she whispered, pulling his face back up to hers.
He kissed her mouth, and then nipped at her ear, "I'm OK . . . I'm high, but I'm OK . . . I won't hurt you."
"What about Darren and Alex - neither one of them have the willpower you do," Nikita asked him, "She's never tried anything like this . . ."
Michael cupped her breast, "They'll be OK Nikita. They'll probably fuck their brains out, but they'll be fine."
He pulled Nikita's hand to his chest, an unspoken request for her to touch him. She stroked him, her hands gliding up and down the hard planes of his chest, finding the tiny beads of his flat male nipples, and she rubbed her thumbs over them. Michael moaned into her mouth. She knew what got to him.
He traveled down her body, his tongue pausing again at her breasts, then at her stomach, delving into her naval, flicking over the small ring, so she felt just a little bit of a tug. He eased her thighs apart, and ran his tongue across the moistening cleft, delving in-between, tasting her. He suckled each lip, and found her sensitive bud with his tongue, and stroked her there, until she writhing underneath him. His assault on her senses was so intense she came fast and hard, crying out loudly.
Michael reared up over her, sliding his swollen hard shaft into her hot wet core, and began that rhythmic thrusting that he knew would devastate her in minutes. But something else happened.
Michael felt his senses explode as his own release suddenly shook his body the core. Nikita realized instantly what happened, but she didn't complain. Rather, she wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him to ride out his release. Michael struggled for a moment, trying to gather his senses together, and found himself hardening again. Nikita moaned underneath him as he hardened still inside her, and Michael started to thrust again, his intoxicated brain registering that this shouldn't be happening . . . She found her release again quickly, and her spasming muscles were his undoing, and he came again.
In an hour, Michael was still awake, and flying, but Nikita was intoxicated, barely hanging on to consciousness, still drunk on the heady sensations that coursed through her.
Michael knew it would be cruel to start again. Already he was afraid that she'd be sore tomorrow. But his energy was boundless tonight - because of what he'd been forced to ingest. Under normal circumstances, they made love differently. Nikita was on top, they made love from behind - but they had a false pregnancy to hide.
Nikita kissed him back, turning her head when he moved onto her neck, nibbling the soft sensitive flesh just below her ear.
Alexandra clung to Darren when he let them into the room they'd been assigned. He held her close, wrapping both arms tightly around her, "I've got you, you're OK, I've got you."
She felt his lips press a kiss to her forehead, and she looked up at him, eye's glazed and wild.
"I don't . . . it feels good but it's not real . . ."
Darren stroked her back, "It will wear off in a couple hours," he told her, struggling to hold onto his own enraged, engorged, intoxicated senses.
She squeezed her eye's shut, and then opened them again, and Darren thought he saw something different in them. She'd been fighting the drug in her system for the last hour. Darren had given up trying to convince her to just ride it out, but now, suddenly, she'd decided too it seemed.
He felt her hands move from his waist down across his firm buttocks, feeling him. She ground her pelvis into his. Darren sucked in his breath, realizing what is was he was seeing through his drug altered vision, in her eye's. Desire, lust . . .
She let go of him, and backed away, moving towards the bed. He watched, mesmerized as she unzipped the skirt, tossing it and her panties off, yanked off her top, and sat back on the bed spread eagle, and reached out for him, palm up, fingers spread.
Darren crossed the room slowly, and opened his mouth to ask her if she was sure this was what she wanted - considering their history recently. But someone could be watching, listening . . .
"Touch me," she begged, her voice husky, taking his hand and pulling it to her breast.
Darren knelt down in front of her, cupping her breast with one hand. He took her other nipple into his mouth, and started to yank off his own clothing with his free hand. In the back of his mind, he knew they were both very hypersensitive. He blamed it on the purity of the drug, knowing that what he'd tried so many years ago wasn't exactly high quality.
Darren had barely gotten the last of his clothing off, and she was grabbing at his other hand, pushing his fingers down between her thighs. Darren plunged one finger deep inside her, and felt her muscles clench around him, her body spasm, and she cried out with her first orgasm of the night . . .
It was the next morning, at the breakfast table, that all four of them discovered that what they'd been given wasn't just very pure cocaine, but cocaine mixed with acid. Michael was instantly pissed, but he had to hide it. Nikita, Darren and Alexandra bristled, all of them painfully aware of how out of control Michael, Darren and Alexandra been the night before. Shikke was so busy laughing, and shoveling food into his mouth, that he didn't notice their discomfort.
He announced that he was expecting more guests tonight, and tomorrow he'd have what he needed from his supplier to do business.
They'd have to spend another night in drug induced madness to get what they wanted. After breakfast, Shikke spent the rest of the day in his office, telling his four guests to enjoy the pool, or the tennis courts, or the trails, or what ever.
Michael suggested they explore the walking trails. They all knew it meant that he wanted all of them away from the house for a little while, away from prying ears.
"Are you ok?" Nikita asked them, once they were far out.
"Yeah," Alexandra said softly, "I feel like I'm recovering from the flu, but I'm OK . . ."
Darren nodded, "Same symptoms . . . I thought something was different last night - but I thought it was just how pure the cocaine was."
Michael nodded, "I'll try to get a sample - for Section, so we know what we're dealing with when we get back. Make sure you don't use anything that Shikke doesn't use himself, and do very small amounts."
Alexandra wrapped her arms tightly around herself, remembering what she'd done last night. She'd been a depraved animal, they both had . . .
"We can't get into Shikke's office right now. Later tonight, I'm gonna pretend to feel ill, Michael and I will try to break into his office then," Nikita told him, "You two get to know the buyers. We'll want to know who is interested in nuclear weapons - one of them may well be the supplier."
More 'guests' started to arrive late that afternoon. The evening went pretty much the same way. They ate huge dinner, drank themselves into oblivion, and then Shikke came out with the cocaine. Nikita had just started to plead being ill, and Michael informed Shikke he was going to see his wife settled in. Alexandra and Darren held off until they were the last there to use, and found themselves unable to avoid using again. They both took as little as they could get away with, but it still hit them hard, their bodies not used to being assaulted this way.
It made working the room harder, and after a while, impossible. But they kept the conversations going, trying to give Michael and Nikita enough time to search. It reached the point where Alexandra started to hit on the other guests, and Darren played the jealous husband, to keep everyone's attention.
Michael and Nikita barely made it up to their room before they heard people coming down the hall.
Hours later, he crept out into the hall, to knock on Darren and Alexandra's door. Darren answered it, his pants hastily pulled up, " What the - Michael . . ."
" How are you both?" Michael asked, not peering around Darren, very aware of what he'd probably just interrupted, judging from his own experience with the drug and Darren's state of undress.
Darren took a deep steadying breath, "High - I don't know how much more of this shit we can take Michael . . . .it's like it's getting worse."
"Acid does that," Michael replied, his eye's traveling the halls, "He's mixing it himself - I found a log he was keeping. He's experimenting, he's trying to addict his clients, so they keep coming back to him."
Darren sighed, and shivered, wrapping his arms around his bare chest, " Will we be able to find what we need tomorrow?"
"It depends," Michael told him, "I want us out of here just as much as you do."
It was three more days by the time they were able to get the information they needed, and notify section one. In the mean time, Nikita painstakingly searched for any information while she had a chance to slip away. Michael, Darren and Alex helped as much as they could - but most of the time the best think they could do was keep Shikke and his clients distracted.
They were able to slip out, on the fifth day, having notified Section one of the delivery times, the supplier and buyers. Nikita's false pregnancy was the excuse they used to leave the house, and seek out a doctor. From there, they simply returned to Section One.
They took a commercial flight out of Germany, and Nikita stood by and watched helplessly as the first symptoms of withdrawal started to make themselves evident. All three of them looked pale. They were sick to their stomachs. They had fevers, cold sweats. They were all irritable and exhausted, but they couldn't sleep. When the pain came, it was almost unbearable. Nikita rationed how much advil they were taking for headaches, afraid they'd overdose themselves.
Michael had a print out of Shikke's drug log, and handed it to Madeline when they walked back into Section one. It was Madeline and Jonathan that met them there, at the entrance.
"What's this?" Madeline asked him, taking the crumpled paper Michael handed her, and unfolding it.
"Shikke was experimenting, with different combinations of acid and cocaine," Michael told her, "Medlab will probably want to know, what we're in withdrawal from . . ."
"Go on," Madeline told them, handing Michael the paper, "Nikita can make the report."
Nikita stood with Madeline, watching the three of them almost run down the hall. Madeline looked down at the paper, "I wish you would have told me, what it was they were being subjected to. This is going to be much harder to treat."
Nikita was immediately angry, "Shikke's been doing this for a while - I'm surprised your source didn't know - besides we needed to know who the supplier was. I thought the end result justified the means, even here."
"It does," Madeline told her, "But three of our top operatives are now addicted - not just to cocaine, but to another drug that's difficult to fight. We're not in a position to be down those three operatives right now."
Nikita sighed, "What would you have done differently?"
Michael hated spending any time he was conscious in medlab. But the alternative right now was worse. The detox regimen they had developed for them consisted of 24 hours in IV medications that were non addictive, but would help with the pain, the nausea. Nothing they could give them that was non addictive, would help with the paranoia and mood swings. They'd strapped Michael down to the hospital bed, and he knew they were doing the same things to Darren and Alex. At one point, he heard some very in human howl from someplace off to his left, and he thought it sounded like it might have been Alexandra.
Nikita came in to see him several hours later, and told him that she'd finished the report for Madeline, and that one of the tech's assigned to detoxing Alex had forgotten to hook something up for a while, and waited until a doctor was available to check in on her. Alexandra had become shocky, but she was stable now . . .
As soon as medlab was done with their regimen, and they unhooked Michael, he dressed in a clean set of cloths, and wandered down the hall to check on Darren and Alexandra. Darren was just getting dressed, still looking as shaky as Michael felt.
"I feel like shit," Darren told him, "That guy had better have been worth it."
"Have you had any visits from Madeline, or Jonathan?" Michael asked him.
"Everyone but has looked through the window at me, that's for sure," Darren told him, "Nikita checked in on me a couple times. Had a wonderful time listening to Alex scream like a banshee for a while. What the hell were they doing to her?"
"Nikita told me the tech made some mistakes," Michael told him, "She essentially went through withdrawals unassisted."
Darren pulled on his shirt, shaking his head, "I wonder how much of that was really a mistake. I don't trust anything around here anymore. I need a good night's sleep in my own bed - I'm gonna go check in Alex before I take off."
He followed Michael out into the hall, and they stopped in front of the door to Alex's medlab room, looking in first.
Jonathan was sitting on the side of her bed, holding the trembling redhead, who was still suffering the withdrawal symptoms.
Both Michael and Darren watched for a moment, the tension palpable.
Nikita appeared behind him, "What was it you said about forbidden fruit Michael?"
Continue on to Hard Choices