Rebellious Streak
By: Kimberly
Michael spent as little time as possible in medlab. The moment they determined that nothing was ruptured or broken, and as soon as he could walk himself, he was out of medlab. Nikita hadn't been so lucky. She'd developed a raging infection, and had spent two weeks in medlab longer than he had. She'd been comatose for days in fact.
He hovered over Nikita for a little while, when she was asleep. It was easier that way. He didn't see the pain in her bright blue eye's. It would have been more than he could take right now at any rate. Operations and Madeline were suspicious of his and Nikita's friendship.
Defying the leaders of Section One was something Michael did often, but discretely. Nothing about Nikita was discreet though. Defying them where Nikita was concerned, put her safety at risk - more so than it already was.. Michael still felt that Simone was left to die because of him.
He would not always be able to protect Nikita from a stray bullet, or a successful counter attack, but he would never be able to live with himself if he was the reason for her death.
He had another problem though. He couldn't live without her. He was being eaten up with guilt, knowing she was dying inside because of him. It was so hard being near her, and not with her. Worse yet, that part of them, that could just somehow know what the other was going to do, was gone now. For the last year, they could work together, know what the other would do, what they would say, what they were thinking, without asking. That was rare, even here. They were the best partnered team Section had, and somehow, they'd lost that link - ever since he'd shut her out. Chalk one more sin up to his record . . .
When she'd stirred, he'd quickly slipped out of the room. He passed Alexandra in the hall, nodded to her. She was in mission gear, blood splattered on her face and in her hair, on her cloths. She'd seen him, made brief eye contact, barely nodded, and kept going. Michael felt a cold surge in his veins. He was seeing seriously dangerous warning signs that the younger redhead was in trouble. The cold, empty expression in her eye's, the firm set to her jaw, the emotionless expression that was becoming common, not just a mask. She was OK when on assignment. It was when she was off duty that she was in trouble. On duty, she was effective, followed orders, didn't hesitate. He hadn't heard her laugh, seen her smile, in weeks though. Like Nikita, he'd become attached to the 'children' - against his better judgment.
Darren was about ten feet behind her, his expression telling Michael that he was pissed. Darren was still hesitating. He had a hard time pulling the trigger unless provoked. Nikita had been like that, at first. But it hadn't lasted. Since her return, she'd managed to bury that shred of humanity deep, and just done the job. Darren would get there, Michael hoped. That, or he'd be canceled on a mission or here.
Darren was also blood splattered, but not as bad as Alexandra. None of the other operatives around him seemed to have been hit with whatever they had.
"What happened?" Michael asked him.
Darren sighed, and shook his head, "An innocent bystander just walked in on us, Lloyd ordered us to shoot him, I hesitated, and she just blows him away, makes a huge fucking mess! The guys whole head just exploded! I don't know how housekeeping is gonna get it all! She was behind me, watching our other possible entryway, the one that was supposed to be open - when this guy walks through a door that isn't supposed to be there. We got our target, but I don't know how good he's gonna be to us, he's pretty freaked out over the whole thing. Part of the guys skull nailed him right in the face!"
"It's unfortunate when innocent lives -" Michael began.
Darren held up his hand to stop Michael and frowned. More blood.
"I know, I know, One life for the thousands of others . . . How is 'kita."
"Better," Michael said, "The doctors say the infection is gone. She's awake more and more."
How would you know Michael, you avoid her now . . .
Darren smirked, opened his mouth to comment, and thought better of it. Michael avoided Nikita when she was awake.
Michael regarded the other man for a moment, knowing what he was thinking, "You should get to debriefing."
Nikita had the been fingering the petals on the red rose that someone had anonymously left for her the entire time Alexandra had been there to visit her. No one seemed to know where it came from, but Alexandra had her suspicions. She'd seen Michael hover and watch over Nikita when she was asleep.
"He looks like hell," Alexandra said quietly.
Instinctively, Nikita knew who she was talking about.
"I wouldn't know," Nikita told her, "I haven't seem him since we were on the transport a few weeks ago."
Alexandra sighed, "I saw him in the hall this morning, talking to Darren - who wants my head on a spit at the moment."
Nikita frowned, "You and Darren are fighting? I thought you were pretty good friends."
Alexandra sighed, "Well, it's not that big of a deal. He wants me to spill my guts all the damn time, I want him to lay off. I had to kill someone who walked in on us, it was kinda messy."
Nikita nodded slowly, "He hesitated."
Alexandra shrugged, "Not really, I just reacted faster is all."
She's protecting him . . .
"People adjust to this place in different ways," Nikita said "Both of you are still adjusting, and you will, for a few more years I'm sure."
Alexandra sighed, "So when are you out of here?"
The door opened, and Darren walked in. He was dressed in slacks, a jacket, and a dress shirt, the collar unbuttoned. His hair pulled back into a pony tail.
"You look nice," Nikita said as he walked over to her hospital bed.
"Thanks," Darren said, and looked briefly at Alexandra. No smile, just a glance, that spoke volumes. Regret, sadness, maybe even anger.
"So what's the occasion?" Nikita asked him.
"I have a date," Darren said, "I met her in a club last week."
"Which club?" Nikita asked him.
"Biagio's," Darren told them, "Got any suggestions on where I should take her tonight?"
Nikita was thoughtful for a moment, "The Raven is nice if you want to go dancing, the bands are usually pretty good."
Alexandra watched and listened for a few minutes. She'd wanted to leave, as soon as Darren started talking about this girl, but that would be kind of obvious. Besides, Darren deserved some kind of life . . .
"Have a good time," Nikita told him, "and be safe."
Darren rolled his eye's, "I've heard the drinking lecture, the condom lecture, and every other lecture 'Kita, I'll be fine."
Alexandra watched as he left the room, and then looked back at Nikita, "We can date outside of Section, right?"
Nikita nodded, "As long as you don't get serious, it can't interfere with Section at all though."
Alexandra nodded, "I'll see you later then, page me if you need anything and these guys aren't cooperating."
Nikita watched the redhead leave medlab and sighed. Alexandra was still quiet and unresponsive. Darren was straining against his leash, and she had no clue about the one other person who cared about her - or at least, she thought cared about her . . .
It was a dark brown wig that she put on, and she darkened her eyebrow's with pencil. She didn't worry about colored lenses. If Darren got that close, he'd make her, and she knew it. She put on a short black dress, black nylons and pumps, and headed out for the Raven. She didn't know what it was, but something inside her told her she should be checking out this woman. The Raven was not like anything Alexandra had ever been to in her entire life. Smoke from cigarettes hung heavy in the air. The music was so loud it prevented any normal type of conversation, but people were still trying. The mode of dress ran from fancy to street cloths, depending on the person. Waitresses and waiters wove through the crowd serving drinks and taking orders.
It was a good hour before she saw Darren and his date enter the club. Darren didn't seem near as amazed at this place as Alexandra had been. They worked their way through the crowd, eventually making their way over to a group of people that his date seemed to know. As Alexandra watched, the other woman introduced Darren to everyone, and then they made their way out to the dance floor. Alexandra managed to get a few discrete pictures, and even got her hands on a glass that she'd seen the blonde holding. The rest of the evening was boring. She danced with a few guys, but had a hard time keeping track of Darren and his date. His date, on the other hand, was hard to miss. Platinum blond, petite but lush, busty, and airheaded to boot. Alexandra managed to follow her into the ladies room and snickered when she heard her talking to another woman. A true air head.
Alexandra waited, watching them for the rest of the night from the far side of the club. Every move he made, she saw. Every time he laugh at something the blonde said, Alexandra wondered what it was. Everytime he had his arms around the blonde on the dance floor, Alexandra wondered what it must feel like . . .
"Hi there Birkhoff," Alexandra said, hours later. She'd changed cloths, gotten the prints off the glass.
Birkhoff looked up at her, "No candy, so I guess I'm safe."
Alexandra managed a smile, "I could go down to the candy machine, but it looks like your pretty well stocked as it is."
Birkhoff sighed, "So what is it that you need, it's three am. The only people here are working."
"Run these prints for me?"
He shook his head, and slid the print card into the scanner.
"Can I ask why I'm scanning prints, when I'm supposed to have a request from a senior operative, which you are not?"
"Say Nikita asked for them then," Alexandra said, looking around the room, "I'm just watching out for a friend, I want to make sure this one is who she say's she is."
Birkhoff shook his head, " Does Nikita know she's requesting this?"
"She will, as soon as she's up tomorrow . . . is that her?"
A department of Licensing photo came up, with a suspended drivers license, for driving while under the influence of alcohol or other intoxicants. Records also showed that she was a waitress at a coffee shop. No other criminal records.
"Almost Lilly white," Birkhoff said, "If Caterina is anything other than what she say's she is, she's got an airtight background."
Alexandra nodded, "then lets hope she really is Lilly white, can you erase this check?"
Birkhoff typed in a few keys, " Done."
Alexandra nodded, "Thanks Birkhoff, I appreciate it."
He nodded, "It's peanut M&M's next time though."
Nikita headed straight for Michael's office when she was released from medlab. He had to go there eventually, and she still had to talk to him about the 'children'- or more specifically, Alexandra - who was way out of control. Something she'd said made Nikita think that Alex may have been following Darren.
Nikitia was in luck today, because Michael was in his office when she walked in. She sat down on the chair across from it, sitting sideways as she usually did, and waited for him to look up.
He finished typing something, pulled out another console, and keyed something in. No sound surveillance for at least the next 10 minutes now . . .
"I've been meaning to talk to you," he said.
She shook her head, "Michael, I'm here because of Alexandra."
He sat back his chair, and waited.
"She's going to self distract. When she is 'happy - go-lucky' it's brief - and it's only on an assignment when there's an audience - it's like she'd acting. Usually, she's too quiet, unresponsive. She keeps everyone at arms length - and she's pushing herself to the point of collapsing. It's like she wants to die."
Michael sighed, "She probably does."
Nikita didn't freak out. A few years ago, she would have, but not now, not anymore. Nothing got to her much anymore - except Michael . . .
Nikita sighed, "Not that the quality of life here is so great - but I just can't see letting her just go - and it's not just because I am responsible for her . . . I think she's going to be really good someday - she's pretty good now."
Michael stippled his fingers, rubbing his index finger against his lips, " Her profile indicates she wouldn't take her own life, but she would take unnecessary risks."
"She's doing that now - I can't reach her, Darren can't and shouldn't try, and I know you're not exactly the warm fuzzy type . . . but could you try?" Nikita asked him, "Please? For me?"
Michael looked up at her. Did she just say please- and for her? Nikita never asked him to anything that way.
"I will try to talk to her," Michael told her, "She'd not a talker, it could take a while."
"So use that irresistible charm that works so well on women," Nikita said, only half teasing. The other half was a challenge, an angry jab.
Michael felt it, like an accusation. He was quiet for a moment, "That would not be a good idea. Both of them know . . . to much."
Nikita stood up to walk out, but she paused by the door, "I didn't think there was anything left to know Michael."
She walked out, not realizing how badly her words cut into Michael. But he deserved it he thought to himself. He never should have started what he couldn't finish with her.
It was later that day, in the gym that he found her. He was there for his own work out, but so was she, so it seemed like a good opportunity.
She nodded as he walked over.
"How are you feeling today?" he asked her, and hoped it didn't sound as lame to her ears at it did to his.
It must have, because she looked at him for a moment before answering.
"Fine," she said, and pushed the bar up again.
"You've seemed a little quiet the last few weeks," he said, doing a curl on his machine.
"I haven't found much to talk about here lately," she said, " It's not like these jobs we're sent on are suitable for a nice chat over coffee."
She had a point.
"How are you and Darren getting along?" he asked her.
She stopped and looked over at him, "What do you mean?"
"You've been good friends, and lately you seem to be off," Michael mentioned.
Yeah we're off, he's dating some blonde idiot, and it's like I just plain don't exist anymore . . .
The redhead laughed at him, actually laughed.
"Darren and I are still just friends, I'm healthy, and I do my job, what more can Section One possibly want?"
He sat up, "I know the first year or so here can be lonely-"
She shook her head, and tucked a stray curl back behind her ear, " The first year or so? Michael, I know I'm not 'mary-fuckin-sunshine' like 'kita, but that's just not me. I hate it here. I hate what I have to do, I hate the fact that I'm good at it, and I'm still pissed - even after four years - that I got caught. If you want to listen to me bitch and whine and cry you're out of luck. Nothing is going to change, and nothing is going to help it."
"There is no reason why you have to be unhappy all the time," he told her, "Nikita had a hard time adjusting to Section One when she first . . ."
The redhead stood up, "I don't want to talk about this Michael - and I have plans tonight, so I gotta go."
A lexandra checked the address on the card she'd been given at the club the night before. It was a Rave, whatever that meant. Someone at the club last night had told her they were huge house parties, where you were charged admission at the door, and once inside, anything went.
Alexandra felt like she needed some fun, a release. So, she dressed up again, called a cab, and gave the driver her address. She didn't want to worry about how she'd get her car back home tonight, she had no intention of staying sober. If Section One called, she'd call another cab, and sober up on the transport.
She looked out the back of the cab window a couple times, and quickly realized that her cab was being followed by a black sedan, they weren't tryin to hide it either. It didn't take an idiot to realize who it would be either. Michael. But she wished it was Darren. But he would be out with Caterina tonight - again.
Alexandra forced a smile as she paid the cab driver. If Michael wanted to follow her around, let him. She'd never read or heard or been told she couldn't go out and have fun. Nothing was stopping Darren, so why couldn't she . . . .?
At the door, there were two huge bruisers, who took her money, and let her in without any hassles. They didn't even ask for the card. Just like the Raven, there was a layer of smoke that hung in the air. But it wasn't just cigarette smoke. Alexandra saw people smoking from various kinds of pipes, snorting things.There was a bar set up where people could buy drinks. She got her self a coke and captain morgans rum, and started to weave her way through the room slowly. The crowd was thick and heavy, and the moving was slow.
"You look bored," someone said behind her, in her ear.
Not bored, lonely . . .jealous . . .
Alexandra had felt someone move in behind her, but she wasn't worried. Not in this crowd. For one night, she wasn't going to be Alexandra, cold ruthless assassin, Section One Operative. Tonight, she was just Alex, a woman in her early twenties out to have fun.
She turned, "I'm not . . . I'm still in awe, I've never been to one of these."
He was as tall as she was, short blonde hair, thin wire framed round glasses. He had on dark jeans and a blazer, very tanned skin, he looked like he spent lots of time in the sun.
"Never?" he said, "What's your pleasure, I'm sure they have it."
She laughed.My pleasure . . . can you send me back in time about 6 years to save my bestfriend and myself? Can you put me in Caterina's shoes, if only for one night?
"I'm fine, I got myself something to drink - do you dance?" she asked him.
Michael parked down the street, and walked back, paid the admission, and slipped into the crowd. It wasn't hard in this group. It was all people in their early 20's, maybe late teens, and their biggest concern was their next drink. Alcohol and drugs were everywhere. People dressed in anything, and less seemed to be better among the women.
He moved through the room, picked himself up a coke, and kept watching. He suspected that this was a last minute decision for the young redhead. He knew from her profile and background file that in highschool, and college, she'd been a straight arrow. Never any trouble, except for the one incident that landed her in Section One. She'd never been antisocial, but she wasn't a socialite either. This would not have been her first choice. But, Section One would not have been her first choice either, and the stress and strain tended to change people, push them over the edge they wouldn't have crossed before.
It was a half an hour before he spotted her. She was wearing this short black skirt, satin top and waist length jacket, black nylons and heals. She'd styled her hair, put on some makeup and jewelry. She was drinking something, and while he watched, she changed dance partners three times. At one point, she saw him and smiled raising one eyebrow, daring him almost. The song ended, and she wove her way back through the crowd, picked up two drinks at the bar, and made her way over to where he was.
"Michael, I didn't know Rave's were your scene," she said, and handed him the drink.
He looked at it, and then back at her. She was tipsey, but not drunk.
"Coke and captain morgans, try it, I hear you have quite a tolerance," she told her.
"This isn't really your scene either," he said, the soft French accent made the words sound so silky.
She laughed, and it sounded bitter, "I don't have a scene anymore Michael, C'mon, doesn't anyone like to have a little fun besides Darren and I?"
She gulped down the rest of her drink, "Well, since you've decided to follow me, I'll make it easy on you, lets dance. I'm sure 'kita won't mind since it's me."
She looped her arm through his, and pulled him out to the floor, into the middle of the throng of bodies.
"Why would Nikita mind if I danced with a woman?" Michael asked her, his eye's surveying the room as he danced, and talked.
"Listen Michael, I don't know what the deal with the two of you is. I don't know if your good friends, or more. But I see the way you look at her, the way she looks at you, when you think no one is watching. I know something is different - and I would even bet it was her the sent you after me."
"We have rules on relationships," he told her.
The song changed, it was a slower one, so he slipped his arms around her waist, keeping them high on her back, and she rested her hands on his shoulders.
"We break every other rule known to man to get the job done, don't talk to me about rules, and hey, I don't really care - I do, I hope you two are - but before you both go freaking out about me, work on what you have," she said, "or had."
"You're seeing things that aren't there," Michael told her.
The redhead laughed, " Sure Michael. You just keep telling yourself that."
The song ended, and she broke away from him, kissed her palm and blew the kiss back towards him, putting the crowd between herself and him.
Michael stepped back, and moved back towards the door. He'd seen and done enought for tonight. He'd watch her the next couple days, and decide what to do then. She was drinking, but he didn't think she'd use any illicit drugs. Worst case, she'd wake up next to some guy who's name she wouldn't remember, and come in to Section One tomorrow with a hangover.
Alexandra watched him leave, and found another drink, another dance partner, and closed her eye's for a moment, pretending that the arms around her belonged to Darren.
It was 1:00 am, the music was still pumping out, loud, the beat strong and heavy, she was working on yet another drink, and she was near the open glass doors talking with some guy who was equally drunk. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the front doors bust open, and police officers come pouring through. A scream went up, but she was already moving. The worst thing that could possibly happen was for her to be arrested. Her ID would stand up, but her prints wouldn't. They'd come back to a woman who committed suicide in prison 2 1/2 years ago.
She ran as best she could in high heels through the back yard, over to the fence. She grasped the top edge and pulled herself up, swung one leg up and over, and almost fell back, when someone grabbed her leg.
She yelled, and turned her head to look, and saw a cop, reaching for his night stick.
She struggled, yelped when she felt the first blow, and the part of her that would not allow herself to fight a cop disappeared.
She caught the next swing, and leaned back toward the cop, elbowing him in the face, breaking his hold. She flung herself over the fence, landing in a heap on the other side. She leapt to her feet immediately, and headed for the next fence. Taking to the street right there would be a mistake. The police would probably be watching the streets for just this kind of thing. The people who ran, had a reason for running. . .
By the time she'd climbed over the 12th fence, she was climbing into the lot of a 7-11, and seeing a buss pulling over to the buss stop, she ran over, and up the steps, and collapsed onto the bench. The driver turned in his seat to gape at her, "Lady! Are you OK?"
She nodded, "I won't be if you don't get moving," she said, and fished in her purse for some change for her ticket.
"I had a little misunderstanding with a date is all," she said, "What bus am I on?"
It was four am by the time she made it back to Section One. She'd knew immediately, once she'd had a chance to look at herself, why the bus driver had been so shocked.
Her skirt was torn and dirty, as where the rest of her cloths, her nylons in shreds. She had a nasty gash on her thigh, which was oozing blood still, she'd need stitches. She knew two ribs were broken from the cop's night stick. Hence, why she went back to Section One. She'd rather explain to a med lab staffer than the local hospital why she looked so bad.
She passed Michael in the hall, who didn't blink or ask, just followed her to medlab.
"What happened?" he asked, once the tech on duty went to get whatever supplies he though he would need.
She sighed, "Nothing Michael, I'm fine."
She looked at him, blue eye's wide, challenging him to argue with her.
He chose not to, this time
"Good, because we have a briefing in one hour," he told her, "Be ready."
She let the tech lay the last piece of tape on the bandage and was off the gurney, heading for her Section quarters. She didn't want to go in wearing ripped, dirty, alcohol soaked cloths into a briefing.
She passed Darren in the hall, who stopped and gaped at her.
"Really wild party," she said, padding down the hall in her bare feet, "I'll tell you about it later."
She had just enough time to shower, run comb through her hair, and walk, rather stiffly, into the briefing room.
It was a simple agency assist job, they'd be surrounding a local city park in plain cloths, and jump in to assist the NSA if they needed it. Michael was monitoring live feed from Section One. While he and Birkhoff watched, listened and waited, Nikita walked into the main floor, and walked over.
"You're back earlier than you should be," he said to her, switching his voice transmitter off. She had pulled her hair into a pony tail, and she wore jeans, sneakers and a sweatshirt, "You're always back early."
"I wasn't almost dead from an infection," He reminded her.
She shrugged, " I'm feeling much better Michael, besides, I wanted to find out how our material is doing."
Michael felt his heart sink a little. She didn't miss him at all anymore apparently . . .
"They're fine," he said softly.
She glanced around, "did you try to talk to Alex?"
He nodded, "She doesn't want to talk. I followed her to a Rave party last night, she spotted me, we spoke briefly, and I left. I think she's feeling her oats 'kita. She never had the chance to be a kid."
Nikita nodded, "No, she didn't. So what do we do?"
Michael was watching the screen, listening through his comm. unit to the dispatched team, but he still kept up with Nikita, "Let her rebel a little. In time, she'll calm down. All we have to do is keep her from getting herself killed, here or out there."
Nikita nodded, and picked up a comm. unit to listen in, keeping the voice transmitter off, and she watched the screen.
"Unless she gets herself arrested first."
The comment came from Birkhoff, and Nikita looked from him to Michael, her gaze telling him he had more explaining to do.
Michael wanted to reach over and smack Birkhoff in the back of the head. Nikita looked over at Michael, her gaze questioning.
"I wasn't aware she had been at risk," Michael said, looking at Birkhoff, expecting an answer.
"Oh . . . She and Darren were talking about it. The party she was at was busted by the police. She climbed over a few fences to escape," Birkhoff told them.
The heard the click of heels approaching behind them, so all conversation ended.
"Nikita, you're supposed to be home recovering," Madeline said in warm even tones.
Nikita smiled at the other women, a smile she didn't feel.
"I'm fine Madeline. I don't like to lounge around," Nikita told her, " I thought this wouldn't be to strenuous."
Madeline nodded, "So how are the 'children' doing?"
It didn't surprise Nikita that Madeline knew the term that she, Michael and Walter used to refer to Alexandra and Darren.
"They're doing well," she said, " I've seen satisfactory results so far, with acceptable levels of strain."
Which wasn't entirely true. There was lots of strain, but strain that Nikita had expected. But Madeline didn't need to go picking at their brains just yet. The difference was, these two would have someone to lean on when they needed it.
Madeline looked up at the monitor, "How is our team doing?"
"Still standing by," Michael answered, " I have them dispersed into 4 teams of two around the park."
Alexandra and Darren has their voice transmitters switched off too.
"So, tell me about last night's wild party," Darren said, as they sat on a park bench, looking like just another couple in the park, "You're moving rather stiff."
She smirked "I was hoping it wasn't that obvious."
It sounded good to hear even a little humor in her voice. It had been a while, and those events were rare.
"Only because I know how you move," he said, "so, there's a story here, wild night of sex Alex?"
She shook her head, "Yeah, right - it could have been, but none of the guys I danced with did much for me. Section has spoiled me. I like strong confident men. I was at a Rave party."
Darren looked over at her, and then back at the area they were supposed to be watching, "You? No way."
She grinned, "Oh yeah, I went. It was fun - right up until the cops raided the place. I had to run through the back yard in heels, climb a fence, and this cop grabbed my leg, hit me with his nightstick in the side - I broke or bruised the hell out of two ribs."
"Shit!" he hissed, "Why are you out here!?"
She gave him another half smile, " What am I gonna tell operations and Madeline - or Michael and Nikita for that matter, 'sorry guys, I was out partying last night and got beat up by a cop so I can't work' - I don't think so - I'm gonna stick to regular clubs from now on I think. You would not believe what I saw there."
He shook his head, "Yes I would, Drugs, drinks, and everything else."
She nodded, "I saw this girl rubbing this guys crotch through his cloths, and he had his hands on her breasts right over her cloths, another five minutes and they'd have been upstairs in a room - which were going for about 20 bucks an hour, 40 if you didn't want to be watched."
Darren shook his head, "Sounds like a Rave - so what possessed you?"
You did, and now you don't see me . . .
She shrugged, "I felt like going out and having fun - why do you go out?"
Darren was quiet for a moment, "Because I'm lonely."
She looked over at him quickly, "Every now and then I think this life is going to get better, but then something always reminds me - it isn't, is it?"
Darren sighed, "Alex, I really don't know anymore."
She slipped her fingers into his, it would fit into the role they were playing, " Tell me about your new friend." That woman who replaced me, so you don't need me anymore . . .
He smiled a little, "She's nice, always wants to be out partying. A little air headed, but it's safer that way. She doesn't ask questions I can't answer."
Alexandra nodded, "But you're still lonely."
He nodded, "It's not just someone to curl up to at night - my brain needs a companion too Alex."
She squeezed his hand, "I get lonely too . . . but I'm too afraid to let anyone get near me for long - I don't know what will happen with Section One - and I hate stupid men."
They were quiet for a few minutes.
"Michael pretty much denied anything between him and 'kita," Alexandra told him.
Darren looked over at her briefly, "You confronted him?"
"Sorta, he was hassling me at that party - he followed me - and I know 'Kita was behind it too. They're in real trouble. Maybe too far gone to fix this time."
"Shit," Darren said, "at least they can still be friends enough to work together as well as before."
Alexandra shrugged, "I hope so. They haven't worked together in over a month."
"Well, we can rescue Section One's best - why can't we get Section One's best back together - or at least give them a shove?" Darren asked her.
She took a deep breath, "I'm game - it will be entertaining at least."
"So, what should we play off of then, Jealousy, lust?" Darren asked her, "Those are the two most powerful motivaters, aren't they?"
You have no idea . . .
"For most people," she said, "How about both?"
Darren nodded, "So, Michael is the one who is holding back right now, how do we get him to be Jealous, or lust after her?"
Alexandra grinned, "That's easy. We'll put her in a sexy dress, out with other men, and not on a mission. But how we convince her to get out there, and convince him to be there to watch, is the hard part."
"I'll tell her I'm worried about your state of mind, she'll go out with you," Darren said, "then I'll tell Michael I'm worried about you, some of the guys you're hanging out with, He'll follow you - and see you and 'kita."
"That's almost too simple though," she said, looking over at him briefly. Like anyone would believe you're worried about me now . . .
"Alex, love isn't rocket science, it's a matter of people, chemistry, and luck - which we have at least two of them in this particular situation."
"Everyone break off," Birkhoff's voice said in their ear pieces, "The CIA has decided their man is not going to show."
Alexandra and Darren both sighed.
"I hate baby sitting jobs," Darren said.
Alexandra nodded and they got up off the bench, and headed back over to his car.
On the drive back to Section One, they passed a body piercing shop.I wonder . . . Alexandra thought to herself.
They arrived at Section One turned in their gear, which today consisted of their communication pieces.
"Nikita, I didn't realize you'd be here today," Alexandra said as she approached the blonde woman standing by Birkhoff's station.
"I'm restless," Nikita told her, "How are you?"
Alexandra thought that seemed like a loaded question, and answered bitterly,"What? Michael didn't give you a full report? I'll have to write it out for him next time."
"I heard a little," Nikita admitted, " Why don't we go have coffee and you can tell me about it."
They had coffee, and then Nikita found herself, with Alex, in a body piercing shop on the far side of town.
"What do you think?" Alexandra asked nikita.
She'd picked out a stainless steal ring, with a shiny black bead on it.
Nikita looked at it for a moment, "I like it - I'm thinking pink myself."
It was another stainless steel ring, this time, with a baby pink glossy bead on it.
"I like it," Alexandra said, "OK, are we ready to do this?"
Nikita walked over to the inclined table, sat down and leaned back, and eased the leggings waist band a little, "Ready."
Alexandra took the seat next to Nikita, and did the same thing. They both watched as the guy who was doing the piercing - who had them all over himself, swabbed each of their belly's with alcohol, swabbed the piercing gun, and injected the ring through Alexandra's belly button.
Alexandra hissed, and took a deep breath, " that wasn't so bad."
"Sure Alex, I can tell by the way you hissed," Nikita said, "OK, ready when you are."
He pulled the trigger again, Nikita hissed, and it was over.
"How long is this going to sting?" Nikita asked Alexandra as if she knew.
"I don't know," Alexandra told her, fingering the new ring in her belly button, "I'll let you know when mine stops."
"Now what," Nikita asked her, as they walked out of the shop.
"Now, we go shopping," Alexandra said, "Because we, are going out on the town tonight."
Michael's right, she's having her rebellious streak . . . Nikita thought, At least it was just her belly button . . .
They combed through the mall, hitting store after store, trying on outfits, the shorter the better. By the time they left, Alexandra had picked out a snug skirt and top, that left her stomach bare, and Nikita had picked out a full short skirt and top, that again left her stomach bare. Next, they were off to Alexandra' apartment, to dress, do their grooming routine. While Nikita was in the shower, Alexandra called Darren.
"Hey, you talked to Michael yet?" Alexandra asked.
"Not yet, where are you so far?" Darren asked her.
"Home, 'Kita is in the shower, we got our belly buttons pierced, we went shopping, and tonight we are going out to the Carlisle," Alexandra told him.
Darren blinked, " You got what pierced?"
"Belly button," Alexandra said, "It looks really cool, Madeline would just drool over these outfits Nikita and I picked out too - maybe you should wait to talk to Michael, so 'Kita and I can have some fun first - we'll shoot for tomorrow night instead."
Darren opened and closed his mouth, he wasn't surprised, he was shocked. Alexandra was hungover this morning, going to parties the police raided, and now miss goody two shoes was getting pierced, and bent on corrupting her mentor. . . "Sure Red," Darren lied, "I doubt I could pull him out of his office anyhow. Caterina wants to go out again anyhow."
"Oh . . . well, have fun," Alexandra said, "Be careful partner."
"I always am," Darren told her, Partner . . . she's never called me that before, and I like it . . .
"OK, see ya tomorrow then," Alexandra said, and hung up the phone.
Darren turned his cell phone off, and headed back to his apartment. He had his own date to get ready for.
Later that night, he found himself at the Carlisle, trying to pay attention to Caterina, while finding himself constantly looking for Alexandra and Nikita. He saw them later that night, drinking and dancing, every hour or so, it was different men too. They were both dressed in short, sexy dresses, meant to attract attention and dare. It was late night, or early the next morning rather, when they finally left, half staggering their way out of the club. It didn't surprise him that they staggered, they'd been drinking all night. What did surprise him was what they were doing - here, in the club, obviously prowling. Something neither woman would have normally done - and if he put the plan he and Alexandra had thought up aside, something still did not feel right.
The same thing happened the second night, and the third. Nikita and Alexandra met up in the evening, played until two or three, slept a couple hours, went into Section, went home, slept, and started again around 10 PM. The fourth night of partying was interrupted by a mission, but two days later, Darren heard them planning again, as they worked out in the gym.
It was that day, that he finally went to Michael's office.
"Hey boss," Darren said, stepping inside.
Michael looked up from the screen after a moment, "What can I do for you Darren?"
"Do we have anything on the pad for tonight?" Darren asked.
Michael was silent a minute, "Not yet, but that can change at any time."
"That I know," Darren said, "I just got off the phone with Alex. You heard about the navel piercing?"
Michael looked at him for a moment, "Who's navel?"
Darren frowned, he hadn't realized how far out of the loop Michael was at this point, "Nikita and Alexandra got their navels pierced, and tonight they are going to prowl the clubs - again - you haven't noticed them coming in bleary eyed, maybe a little hung over . . .?"
Michael felt his heart twist in his chest. His worst nightmare come true. It was like reliving what happened with Jurgen all over again . . .
"I don't like this Michael. The guys she's - Alex - and 'Kita for that matter, are hanging out with . . . I know they can both take care of themselves . . . but it's just . . . something doesn't feel right," Darren told him.
It wasn't an act either. Something didn't feel right to Michael either.
"Where are they going?" Michael asked him, typing on his keyboard again.
"The Carlisle I think," Darren said, watching for some kind of reaction from Michael.
All he saw was that blank expression.
"Well, I gotta go, it's probably nothing. They're both single women after all, they're allowed to feel their oats too I guess."
Michael turned his gaze back the computer screen, and continued to type, until Darren left, saying something about a date himself
The comment about feeling their oats did it. Michael started to close out his computer. Michael closed up everything in his office, and left Section One. He'd told her once, he'd kill the man who tried to take her away from him. Section One be damned, he couldn't live without her.
Like most other clubs, the Carlisle was dark, smoky, and crowded. The music throbbed and pulsed. It was a true meat market. Nikita and Alexandra were choice cut that night.
Alexandra had dressed in black again, the short snug skirt and off the shoulder halter top in shiny black satin, leather boots coming just to the bottom of her skirt. Her stomach and latest piercing was in full view, as was a bit of cleavage. She had her hair down, a mass of wild red curls, dark lipstick, eye shadow, eye liner, the works.
Nikita had on an ice blue outfit that matched her eye's. The top tied just below her breasts, pushing them up a bit, and the full skirt came to mid thigh. She wore no nylons, and strappy high heels. She and Alex had curled her hair up and let it hang loose, and done the full makeup routine.
They had company, and drinks bought by other men, in five minutes. Alexandra consistently pulled herself and Nikita away after an hour with each set of men. Nikita didn't resist.
"We have the same problem," Alexandra said, as the watched two more guys start to home in on them.
"What's that?" Nikita asked downing the last of her drink. She knew Alexandra had a good buzz, and definitely tipsey. Nikita was pretty much there herself.
"We both want what we can't have," Alexandra said to her.
Nikita looked over at her, "This sucks, you know that?"
"Want another?" Alexandra asked her, waving over the bartender, " what kind?"
"Manhattans, what else?" Nikita told her, "God, look at these two GQ types, they've got 'I'm looking for a piece of ass' written all over them."
"Two shots of cuervo gold, and then two manhattans," Alexandra told the bar tender, slapping down some cash.
Alexandra turned to look in the direction Nikita was, and felt her head swim. She realized she was drunk, and so was Nikita. They'd make easy targets tonight . . .
No! Tonight, I'm not Section One!
"Not to many men can wear their hair long and have it look as good," Alexandra said to Nikita, as they both watched the two guys watching them. As good as Darren, as good as Michael . . . these two don't even come close . . .
The two shots of tequila arrived, and they did the salt, tequila and lemon routine.
"God damn!" Alexandra gasped, "It feels OK once it gets past your throat though."
Nikita laughed, and leaned over, so they were shoulder to shoulder, "What are we doing here Alex?"
The redhead laughed a little, "Getting really drunk! And shooting down the men as they come along!"
Nikita smiled, and took a gulp of her drink since they'd just arrived, "Besides that, why are we doing this, we get pierced, we buy outfits that say 'try to get in my pants' - or under my skirt in our case."
Alexandra gulped part of her drink, "Do you know what I looked like, before Section One?"
Nikita looked over at her, "No actually, I don't."
Alexandra sighed, "I had bleached blond hair - really nasty looking. I bleached it myself, a few to many times - and I weighed about 30 pounds more than I do now, without the muscle weight. Now, that I'm in such great shape, I can have any guy in the world - but I can't."
Nikita nodded, "You're lonely."
Alexandra laughed, "I'm fucking insane is what I am . . . I can do whatever Section asks me to, and rationalize it away - but I don't have the balls to help myself . . . have you seen Darren's girlfriend?"
Nikita gulped down more of her drink, "No, I haven't. What's she like?"
Alexandra shook her head, "shorter, very curvy - petite - I hate her, and she's got this full head of blonde hair that I know she must spend hours in front of a mirror with hot rollers to get . . . and brain fucking dead."
"You're jealous," Nikita said and motioned to the bar tender for two more drinks.
The redhead shook her head, "But I can't be - at least before, we could just be buds, you know . . . but now . . ."
"So why can't you just be buds now," Nikita asked her, handing her the new drink.
Alexandra looked at her, like she'd said something truly stupid, "Why is it that you and Michael can't?"
They were both silent, and they sipped their drinks for a few moments, and the two guys they'd watched, who were watching them, walked over.
Michael spotted Darren, in the club an hour later. He was standing by the bar, watching someone, two someone's actually. Nikita and Alexandra. They were both dressed in the typical party girl attire that was prevalent in these clubs. Tight short tops, short skirts, and heels. One rule applied in all cases - sexy.
After several minutes, it became clear to Michael that Nikita was remaining sober tonight, where Alexandra was getting all out and out drunk. Rip roaring drunk in fact. Nikita was sipping something off bottled water, Alexandra was going through mixed drinks, shots . . . they were both dancing with different guys, never staying with one for more than an hour.
The entire evening, Darren watched, moving around the club, Michael watched, and watched Darren watching.
Darren saw Michael once, and found he wasn't surprised. It didn't surprise him that he never approached Nikita. He was just . . . watching over them . . . just like Darren. Darren was also sure Michael didn't want to evaluate to closely why he was here either. Darren was right.
It was late, 3 a.m., when Nikita made it home. She slipped her key in her lock, and turned it, and pushed the door open. The matchstick fell, and she caught it. She hit the light, stepping inside, and knew, before she saw, that she was not alone. She had her gun in her hand and aimed in that next second, and in the third, she relaxed.
Michael sat calmly in her living room chair, content in the knowledge that she would not shoot him, no matter how surprised, or how pissed she was.
"Michael, what the hell are you doing here?" she asked him, lowering her gun, and kicking off her shoes.
"I thought I was always welcome," he said, his soft French accent sounding like a caress as he walked towards her.
She sighed, crossing her arms across her chest, "You probably know where I've been too."
He reached out, rubbing some of her hair between his fingers, "yes."
"So you've taken to following me now? This is pretty sick Michael," she snapped at him.
He traced a finger across her jaw line, and across her bare shoulder, "I put you at risk-"
His hand slid down to hers, and somehow, he managed to pull her into an embrace, "I wish . . . so many things . . ."
She hugged him back, not wanting to, but enjoying the feel of his arms around her.
"Alex is . . . I don't know what is going on with her. It's like she wants to drown herself in . . . anything . . . and for a few hours, not be what she is."
Michael had started to rub her back, slowly, to soothe, "What is she?"
Nikita toyed with Michael's hair as she spoke, breathed in the scent of it, "To her? Section One, a Killer . . . someone who can't forgive themselves, no matter how much they do for someone else."
Nikita leaned back a little, desire and longing plain in her eye's, and as she moved to kiss him, she said, "Like someone else I know."
Darren saw the light's go out in Alexandra' apartment, and knew that for the night she'd be OK. He started his car, and drove back to his own empty apartment.
Continue on to Toxin