Rebellious Streak II
By: Kimberly
Darren spent a lot of time browsing the web. It was one of the few forms of entertainment he had while actually inside Section One - and you could lie easily about yourself, and didn't have to worry to much about a background story.
One of his favorite things to do was browse the newspapers - particularly from his home town, Chicago. He could keep abreast of the life that had been denied him. He went through the for sale ad's, the personals, help wanted, looking for anything he knew of, a store he'd once been too, a name he knew. And he always looked up the wedding and birth announcements. Sometimes he saw an old high school class mate in there.
But the name he saw this time shocked him.
Marie Ann Parkhurst and a Lloyed Jefferson, were to be married in two weeks time.
Darren stared at the screen in shock. Lloyed Jefferson had been his fathers best friend. His mother hadn't used the last name of Parkhurst since before she'd married Darren's father.
Birkhoff was used to cold ops using one of his terminals to search the web, and it was OK - as long as Birkhoff wasn't using that computer terminal. He had lots of them at his station, several of them had originally been intended for cold op use - but Birkhoff had taken a lot of them over.
Darren was one of the select cold ops who actually enjoyed and excelled in computer technology. Alexandra was not far behind him - which was shocking, considering who her trainer was - the damn near computer illiterate Nikita.
He knew Darren had stopped, and Birkhoff was vaguely aware that Darren was leaning back, totally silent.
So Birkhoff turned to look.
" What'd you find?" Birkhoff asked, shoved against the desk, sending his rolling chair towards the cold op who was barely a few years older than Birkhoff himself.
Darren suddenly blinked, and Birkhoff knew that Darren's mind had been someplace else. Birkhoff looked at the screen. Wedding announcements.
" Someone you know?" Birkhoff asked him, " I could probably even find out -"
" No," Darren said quickly, " I was just thinking that I will probably never marry."
Birkhoff didn't say anything to that. He'd been in section for over 7 years, through his teenage years. It had given him a unique perspective on life - people. He'd never had the opportunity to dream when he was younger - never had the desire to dream . . . what would it be like for him now, if he wasn't in Section One?
Darren had only been a cold op for a little less than a year. His two years of training prior to being a full cold op was time that Birkhoff didn't even count - unless he'd spent a lot of time training with Birkhoff.
Darren disconnected the link to the web, " I need to feel some sunshine, see ya later Birkhoff."
Birkhoff watched as Darren shoved his hands in his denim jacket coat pockets, and walked away from the comm station, and Birkhoff new better than to believe that Darren had only been thinking that he'd probably never marry. It had to be someone who's name had appeared on the Chicago paper web page. But Birkhoff also knew that the last think he should do was tell anyone about it - unless it became a problem - then he'd let Michael handle it.
Michael knew that the tracer Nikita had deactivated had also been destroyed. She was learning, he'd give her that. It made him relieved to. She had finally learned to cover her tracks - at least better than before.
He had several locations that the tracer had spent a lot of time at. One was an apartment complex, the other was a diner across town. Since the tracer had been at the diner for 6 to 8 hours at a time, it was a good bet that whoever had been tracked worked there.
The threat from the toxin was supposed to be over now. They had the formula, the reserves, the lab had been swept clean. Everyone involved accounted for. A clean sweep all around - and with a minimal body county.
Except for someone Nikita might have spotted it the park. Michael was well aware that the chances of Birkhoff losing a transmission was slim, unless Darren screwed up, or the glasses failed. Darren made mistakes, but not that bad, and the glasses tested fine. So Nikita was protecting - or better said, had protected an innocent. Michael just wanted to make sure this person was that innocent.
Standing outside the apartment complex and watching wasn't likely to produce results as quickly as watching the diner. He could follow home the staff from the diner in the course of a few days, faster than following everyone at the apartment building to their jobs.
The diner was a greasy dive, specializing in cheap, cholesterol loaded food. He had perused the menu when he walked through the door, and had decided to settle on soup - how bad could that be after all?
A waitress came around the corner, her head down, still tying on an apron, and he felt a cold shock wave slam into his body, course through his veins, damn near making him immobile.
Damn near, but not quite.
Michael turned, and left the restaurant, and walked quickly to his car.
He hadn't seen her in years. In fact, the last time he'd had a photograph of her, she'd had longer hair, a fuller healthier figure, a husband and a child - they'd been living in the country side in France. But now, for some reason he couldn't explain, his sister was here.
Nikita saw Michael coming towards her, and even though he appeared calm, she instinctively new his wasn't. In fact, she'd bet he was pissed. The only thing that gave him away was that he was walking right towards her, looking around to see who would notice, and his pace was faster.
" Michael is something wrong?" Nikita asked him quietly.
" We need to talk," he said, " over coffee."
Over coffee . . . that meant outside of Section - which meant Michael was afraid of being overheard - really afraid.
That was a rare occurrence.
" Sign Nikita and I out as gathering Intel," Michael said to Birkhoff, " I'm going to introduce you to one of my contacts."
Birkhoff nodded, and kept his opinion to himself. He had no doubt that Nikita was not going to be meeting a contact today.
" What's wrong Michael," Nikita asked, once they were out of his car, and sitting at an out door table and cafe.
" The woman who's picture Birkhoff lost, the one Darren tried to get a facial shot of," Michael began, his voice held a barely contained anger, "Is my sister - and you put a tracer on her. Do you know where her husband and child are?"
Nikita sighed, she was in trouble, and she knew it.
" No - I don't know if she really is your sister - it's not like I could run prints or a DNA scan on the sly," Nikita told him, " I recognized her when the feed came through - if it is her, I didn't want her near our target when everything started to happen."
Michael was quiet for a moment, " She's supposed to be in France - out in the country."
Nikita nodded, " I know - I haven't seen a child or another man with her. She hasn't gone near our targets apartment or lab. She goes to work, and goes home - and she's very nervous. She's probably wondering where he is by now."
Michael sighed, " Rene' . . . looked after her . . ."
Until we had to kill him . . .
Nikita reached across the table and took his hands in hers, " I thought the records had been erased Michael, I'm sorry."
" They were," He said quietly, " You covered your tracks well . . . I found them as you were erasing them."
Nikita thought for a moment that perhaps she should be pissed, that he'd check up on her. Yet she knew his intentions would have been good. She hoped he understood hers.
" I hadn't planned on keeping real close tabs on her, I was going to watch, but not real close," Nikita told him, " and you can't approach her."
Michael sighed, " Section would contain the situation.
They'd cancel her, and never tell Michael . . .
" Let me get close to her, check her out, make sure we've got the right person, and we'll go from there," Nikita suggested.
Michael nodded his agreement, and kept a tight grip on her hands.
" She looks tired," Michael said after another long silent moment.
Alexandra found herself sitting on that park bench, across from the catholic church. The sun glistened brightly off the stain glass windows, and she knew that inside, the chapel would be bathed in dim colored light. She saw people going in and out all the time, undoubtedly, lighting candles for loved ones.
Young Alex, I see you here everyday, lighting a candle, the priest said, sitting down next to her, after she'd gone through her daily ritual.
She's sat back in the pew after she lit the candle, though not to pray. She chose to reflect on the good times, those days when Lora had been alive, and OK. But she hadn't been, for years.
She only smiled at the priest. She wouldn't say who she lit the candle for. He had no right to know. He'd refused a funeral mass, she hadn't been buried on consecrated ground, because she'd committed suicide. It gave Alexandra perverse sense of glee, to know she lit a candle for someone that Father Armagost has scorned. It gave Alexandra a tiny sliver of peace, if only for a few moments, because she was doing something for the friend she hadn't been able to save in life . . .
I haven't seen you in confession lately, he observed.
She almost laughed out loud - if he only knew what I wasn't confessing . . .
Forgive me father, for I have sinned, I hunted down and killed the monster who's responsible for Lora's death . . . absolve me for passing the judgment no one else had the balls to, forgive me for being judge, jury and executioner, even though I feel to guilt, no remorse, and I'd do it again . . .
Then, she's been caught. The police were looking for her. She was supposed to go in with her attorney this afternoon.
You! We don't welcome murderers here! Cursed creature! Father Armagost yelled at her, making shooing motions at her.
She'd been on her knees, having just lit a candle. He blew it out. She rose to leave, and lost her balance, and reached out to steady herself. He shrunk back from her, as if her touch was damnation itself . . .
" Alex," Darren said, approaching carefully. She was deep in thought, staring at the church. Her expression conveyed dispair, sadness, and regret.
Darren knew very little of per life, her old life, before Section One. He wasn't sure she'd been catholic, but there was something about a catholic church that drew her, but at the same time, kept her at bay.
She blinked, and looked up at him, and he thought the might have seen a hint of a smile pass her lips.
Alexandra took in his appearance, his posture, facial expression, and knew something was troubling him - more than just life in Section One. He was getting used to life there, they had no choice.
" What's wrong," she asked him, patting the seat next to her on the bench.
He sat down, " What makes you think something is wrong."
She slid her arm through his, " You're tense, and you've come here to find me, and even though you've followed me here, you've never come up to me here."
Darren smiled a little, so she'd known he'd followed her a few times . . .
" I found a wedding announcement in a Chicago newspaper," Darren told her, and sighed.
Alexandra felt him slide his fingers into hers, and she let him. Darren wouldn't do that, unless he really needed to, needed her . . . and today, Alexandra needed the human contact.
" An old girlfriend?" She asked him softly.
" My mother!" Darren snapped bitterly, " Is marrying the bastard who used to get fucked up drunk with my father - the same man who used to laugh when my father flew of the handle and beat the living shit out of me or my mother - and she's marrying the bastard!"
She squeezed his hand, " The same mother who testified against you."
" Yes," he said quietly, defeated, " Alex - I don't understand . . . I never have . . . and seeing that announcement in that paper . . . I just . . . I guess it just all came back seeing the announcement."
Alexandra pulled her fingers from his, and stood up on the stone park bench, and settled back down on the backrest behind him. She pulled his hair free of the hair band he had it tied back with, and started a slow neck and shoulder massage, pushing his coat back off his shoulders, " Was she always like that?"
She knew this would get him talking, which was why he came to her. She always listened, and never judged - not anymore at least . . . .forgive me for being judge, jury and executioner . . .
Nikita was wearing the small flesh colored dot just behind her ear, so Michael could hear her, and she could hear Michael, without anyone else hearing him around her.
" Can I take your order?" Sarah asked.
Nikita looked up, as if surprised, " Uh . . . yeah, I think I want the Reuben, and chili cheese fries."
Sarah wrote something on the pad of paper she had in her hand.
Nikita couldn't help but remember her own brief stint as a waitress - and what a terrible job it was . . . or how easy it was to get that job.
" Reuben and Chili cheese fries," she repeated, accent sounding thick and French.
" Uh, if you don't mind my asking - your accent - it's French right?" Nikita asked her.
Sarah looked up from the note pad at her, and managed a smile. She got asked that ten times a day. Half the time it was followed by a lewd comment from the men.
" Yes, it is," she said quietly.
" Cool - I miss France - I spent a summer in Lyons - a girlfriend of mine from school, her grandparents lived there. It was the best summer of my life I think - Have you been to Lyons?"
The waitress nodded slowly, relaxing a little, the blond in front of her was just some college kid - probably a pampered one at that.
" I have been to Lyons, a beautiful place," Sarah said softly, " I need put your order in . . ."
Nikita smiled, and handed her the menu, " I'll bring in my pictures, maybe you've seen some of the places."
Sarah nodded slightly, and moved away.
She'd come back with pictures tomorrow, and conveniently, Sarah's car would have a blow out on the way home . . .
Darren reached up, and grasped Alexandra's hand, " You're hands have got to be aching, and if you keep that up, I'll be a puddle on the floor ground, and fall asleep."
Liar he thought to himself,if you keep that up, I'm gonna throw you on you back and make love to you right here in the park!
She smiled a little, and contented herself with sifting her fingers through his hair. Which, for Darren, was just as bad.
" Why is it that you come here, to this place?" Darren asked her, " I know we're not supposed to ask, but were you catholic?"
Alexandra moved to sit next to him, and Darren physically felt her withdrawing emotionally, erecting those protective walls.
Damn it!
But then, she surprised him.
" Sort of. I was never raised in the catholic church, but it was there, a cop I knew and well, one I worked with, took me in, and I went with his family for a while, when I lived with them, and I went after that . . . It was a kind of solace - as long as I avoided the priest that is."
Darren looked over at her, " I'm almost afraid to ask."
She managed a smile, " No, he wasn't a pervert, just a jerk. A very pretentious jerk. I used to go in and light a candle for Lora - before she committed suicide and after - he wouldn't do a funeral mass for her, or allow her to be buried there on consecrated ground - because she committed suicide."
Darren nodded slowly, " So you stopped going."
S he shook her head, " No, actually, I went every day, lit a candle for her anyhow. I didn't believe in a vengeful god . . . I can't say what I believed in - if I even believe anymore . . . I never went to confession after I killed him you see . . . I didn't feel guilty - Father Armagost threw me out of his church, called me a cursed creature, demon from hell, or something like that. My immortal soul was doomed to burn in hell - that kind of thing."
Darren nodded, " Banished."
She sighed, " Maybe I am, maybe this is hell . . . I don't know if I believe in a god anymore Darren. I question, with all that we see happen . . . how there could be a divine entity like that, and yet see all that we see . . . and yet I still miss that . . . solace. Part of me is afraid that the comfort I felt was imagined - never really there."
She was quiet for a few moments, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees.
After a few moments, she felt Darren's hand on her back, gently rubbing to soothe.
" You said you lived with a cop for a while," Darren mentioned quietly, " and his family."
She nodded, " A while . . . my trainer, per se, for about a year. I made the mistake of sleeping with him a few times - and I think his wife suspected, because she was pushing me to go back home . . . and suddenly, he thought I should have another officers perspective."
Darren felt his stomach twist and churn, thinking of Alex at 17 or 18, in bed with some guy who was probably twice her age, because she worked with him.
She chuckled a little, " I can almost see what your thinking Darren. It wasn't abuse - I agreed to it, I knew I had options . . . but it nice to be wanted - and I was willing to take my affection where I could get it."
" Why weren't you living at home?"
She leaned back and into his side, resting her head on his chest and shoulder, " My father was a jerk, big drinker . . . when he wasn't working in the shipping yards on the waterfront, he was in a bar - unless he was running low on cash and had to buy the cheap stuff and drink at home. My mother disappeared when I was little - just up and left one day. They were never married, I wasn't exactly planned, they lived together on and off until I was 9, and then she just took off and left me with him."
She laughed a little, " Madeline would say I've got abandonment issues."
Darren thought Madeline was probably right.
Nikita had gone back to the diner the next day, with dummied up photo's of the trip she never too to Lyon's. She'd arrived late at night, for a late evening dinner supposedly, and Sarah had opened up a little more, talked to Nikita a little more. She was new to this country she said. She was here on a student visa, and she'd probably be leaving soon, to go to another school, probably on the west coast someplace.
As Michael listened to her talk, he was more and more convinced that she was his sister, and more convinced that she was laying out a carefully tailored lie for Nikita.
" Get her fingerprints Nikita," Michael said softly, when he judged by the sounds, that Sarah had walked away from the table.
Nikita made a small affirmative sound
The diner closed, and Sarah had the accidental " blow out" on her way home, and Nikita pulled up behind her to help her change the tire - the tire conveniently was not inflated enough.
" I'll give you a ride," Nikita offered her, " Where do you live?"
This gave Nikita and Michael the chance to get up to the apartment, and slide a sensor in the door lock, so a key could be made later. Nikita stayed a few moments and made small talk, and then made an excuse to leave, having an early day with work tomorrow.
It occurred to Nikita as she was walking down the stairs and out of the building, that Sarah never actually asked what it was Nikita did for a living.
" Michael," Nikita said, once they were back in Section One, " She's never once asked what I do . . . isn't that a little odd? I mean, here I'm asking all this stuff about her . . ."
Michael nodded, " yes, it is . . . we'll have Birkhoff run these prints for us and erase the transmission."
Nikita looked at him, " You're not sure it's her."
" It's her, but she's lying about why she's here, she might be on the run," Michael answered.
They found Birkhoff right where they expected him to be, busy typing away at a computer.
" I need these prints ran Birkhoff," Michael said quietly, " unofficially."
Birkhoff looked up at them, " I'll have to erase the whole transmission."
" Yes," Michael said, " You will."
Birkhoff sighed, " OK . . ."
He scanned the prints, and nothing came up. No record found.
" She would have to have a passport, right?" Nikita said, " They have fingerprints on file."
Birkhoff nodded, " Let me tunnel try this . . ."
He typed for another few moments, and a file came up. Birkhoff hit a button the printer started to print, and then Birkhoff shut down, fast.
" What did you do?" Michael asked him, seeing the younger man so quickly back out of where he'd been - and make an actual hard copy.
" I hacked into the agencies records," Birkhoff told him, " This is the woman we saw in . . ." Birkhoff stopped himself, and gulped, and handed the paper to Nikita and Michael.
Sarah Deveroux, age 27, never married, no children, born in Paris France, no living relatives. It was a personnel file record. Sarah was working for the agency.
Nikita sighed deeply, and looked over at Michael, who was still staring at the picture.
" Thank you Birkhoff," Nikita said quietly, and she turned, and left the building with Michael.
Nikita walked with Michael in silence, got into his blazer and waited until they were well away from Section before she spoke.
"What are you going to do?" She asked him.
He was silent for a moment, " I don't know."
More silence.
"Do you have any contacts in the agency?" Nikita asked him.
Michael nodded 'yes'.
"Do you trust them?" Nikita asked him.
I don't trust anyone but you Nikita, and sometimes I'm afraid of even that little bit . . .
"I don't know," Michael told him, " with some things yes . . but this is . . . complicated."
Nikita realized where Michael was driving then. Sarah's apartment.
Nikita dialed the number to the restaurant, and asked for Sarah, giving a fake name, and when the person who answered the phone put Nikita on hold go get Sarah, Nikita hung up. The apartment would be empty - at least Sarah wouldn't be there.
Michael and Nikita walked up the stairs quietly but calmly, as if they belonged there, and when they came to her door, Nikita watched for any surprises. Surprises in the form of neighbors, or anyone else who might be there.
Michael slid the key Section One had engineered for him into the lock, and turned it, and opened the door slowly.
" Match stick," Nikita said, pointing to the floor.
When the door slid open, the match stick was knocked back away from it's spot. It was a simple but effective trick that Michael had taught Nikita years ago.
Of course, that meant that she was not protected from any surprises from Michael. Nikita picked up the match stick, setting it on the table next to the door, and closed the door behind them.
Michael looked around taking in the main room of the apartment. The furniture was older, raggedy looking. A few dishes in the sink. A stack of mail sitting on the counter. Nikita snapped on latex gloves and picked up a photograph in a frame.
" Your parents?" Nikita asked him.
Michael shook his head 'No'. Nikita put the photograph down, and thumbed through the mail. Phone bill, a few advertisements addressed to 'resident'. Electric bill too. It had been opened so Nikita slipped it out.
" She's been here for 2 months," Nikita told him.
Michael nodded, and started to go through the Kitchen.
Nikita went into the bedroom, and into the master bathroom.
The makeup was relatively new. The lipstick tube hadn't been used much at all. The eye shadow barely showed a dent in it.
Nikita went through the dresser drawers. Cloths only, and not much of them, and all relatively new undergarments. Either her boyfriend was paying, or someone had set her up - like the agency.
" Michael," Nikita said quietly, stepping out into the living room again, " The makeup is new, undergarments pretty new, the cloths though are older, some of them a year, year and a half, and none of them have European labels in them - it's all in English.
Michael nodded, " This is supposed to look lived in, long term, but she hasn't been here long . . ."
Nikita nodded, and took a picture of the phone bill and the electric bill. They might have references listed.
" Lets go," Michael said, picking up the match stick.
Nikita followed him out, and watched as he replaced the match stick, and they left the building just as quietly as they came.
" What are you doing?" Alexandra asked Darren, walking up behind him at Section One. He looked up at her briefly, " Browsing the web."
She frowned, she knew better. He wasn't just browsing. She hit the back button, with the mouse, and found a listing of airline prices to Chicago.
" There is no way you can do this and not get caught," Alexandra told him, " You'd be canceled."
He sighed, " I was just dreaming."
She squeezed his shoulder, " What could you possibly say to her."
"I could ask her why," Darren said quietly.
Alexandra pulled a chair over to sit next to him, " What answer would justify what she did Darren? What answer could she give you, that would make it worth while, Section will cancel you, her, and the man she's marrying - unless that's what you want."
" No," he said quietly, " I don't want her to be killed . . ."
She patted his shoulder, " C'mon, lets get out of here, we'll have pizza, rent a video and pass out in front of your T.V."
Darren nodded a little, and signed off the net program. Alexandra checked with Birkhoff to see what was pending for Red team, and they sauntered out of Section One.
They picked out a video, and bought beer, and ordered pizza.
The picked apart the fire fight scenes in the video, arguing over what would have worked and what wouldn't have, sprawled out on the floor.
An advertisement for a wedding expo came on the T.V., effectively dampening the mood.
" Did you ever plan out your wedding - as a kid?" Darren asked her.
She sighed, " White roses - I told you that before though. Big wedding, all the friends and his relatives - being that mine never wanted me and I don't know where they are . . .and I wanted one of those huge elaborate gowns with a long train, shiny satin or silk . . . and everyone would be happy and there would be dancing . . . and then there was the wedding night . . ."
Darren laughed, " Not many women think to much about the 'wedding night' part."
She smiled, " Maybe I think about it more, because I'm not 15, and I want different things . . . I once saw this lacy white teddy in the intimate apparel section of a department store - strapless, backless, thong panties of course . .. white stockings to go with it - it was made to go under a gown of course - it was exquisite . . . and of course it would be so romantic - but passionate. He'd be in awe and ravenous . . . sounds pretty stupid talking about it now."
Darren shook his head, " No it doesn't . . . I always thought I'd get married, have all the family there - mom wouldn't be whiny and nagging, my father would be sober . . . Tux's with long coat tails . . . a big reception, dancing of course, I love to dance . . . and then I'd whisk my bride away to disappear on a cruise ship or something . . . hell, at this point I'd settle for a woman."
Alexandra looked over at him, " What happened to Caterina?"
Darren rolled his eye's, "She was born with less gray matter in her head than your average fruit bat - I slept with her once, she's not an active partner. That's the biggest turn off. I'd rather jerk off on camera for Madeline and listen to her analyze what it all meant than sleep with someone who just lay's there."
Alexandra clutched her stomach and start to laugh.
Darren couldn't believe his ears. It had been so long since he'd heard her really laugh, in fact, he could count the number of occasions on one hand.
He laughed with her.
" The tighter the grip, the more repressed!" Alexandra quipped, imitating Madeline.
Alexandra got up to her knees, and reached for her beer, sitting on the coffee table, and swayed, struggling to keep her balance.
Darren sat up and grabbed for her as she started to fall over. She landed across him, laughing, and it suddenly occurred to Darren how intoxicated she was. He hadn't kept track of the amount of beer they'd been drinking.
She looked up at his face, still grinning, "Well well, what do you think Madeline would say to finding us like this?"
She wound some of his hair around her fingers, watching his face.
Darren couldn't help himself. He knew she should be pushing her off, he knew she was beyond reason right now. He knew she'd gotten there on purpose too. He knew she'd probably be pissed at herself in the morning, but she'd be even more pissed if he pushed her off now. He knew this was the last thing he should be doing right now, but all coherent thoughts left his mind when he looked into the hungry sparkling sapphire blue eye's looking down into his.
" She'd probably bitch us out and throw us in the abeyance pool," Darren answered, cupping her cheek, and rubbing his thumb over her lips.
" Hm," she murmured, " Then we probably shouldn't tell her."
Alexandra leaned down and kissed him, tasting his lips then delving inside with her tongue, the kiss becoming hungry and frantic.
Darren's arms slid around her, one hand sliding up her back and neck, into her hair, the other down to her butt, cupping firmly.
She pushed herself up, tugging at the shirt he had tucked into his jeans, yanking it up.
Darren sat up, settling her straddling his thighs, and tossed his shirt aside, and pulling her blouse from her slacks.
She slowly began to unbutton it, teasing him, shrugging out of it slowly. He reached behind her, unclipped her bra and slid it down her shoulders, and quickly dipped his head to take one rosy tipped peak into his mouth.
She gasped and moaned, arching her back, grinding her pelvis into him.
Darren switched to the other breast, firmly cupping the one he's just finished with hand, and felt her yanking open his jeans, and reaching inside to grasp him. He felt her nails graze his flesh and a shiver slammed up his spine.
She grasped, squeezing, rubbing her thumb over the sensitive tip, and Darren moaned out loud, and his mouth left her breast, and he kissed her hard, grabbing her hand and pulling it away.
" I'll be done in 30 seconds if you keep that up," he said, his voice husky, as he eased her onto her back, reaching to unbutton her slacks.
She rubbed her hands up his chest, rubbing her thumbs across his nipples, playing with the small hardened buds.
Darren hooked his fingers into her slacks, pulling slacks and panties down and off at once.
He grabbed her hands, kissed both palms, nudging her legs apart, and then he bent down, running his tongue along the seam between her swollen labia, and thrusting in between with his tongue.
He parted her with his fingers, and suckled the sensitive bud, holding her writhing body down as best as could with the other arm and hand.
She shoved her hands into his hair, and arched her back, rocked her hips as if to give him better leverage.
After several minutes, she grabbed his hair and pulled his head up, " I'm . . ." she gasped, shoving him over, and moving over him.
She grasped his swollen penis, and guided him inside her, slowly.
Darren groaned. She was tight, hot and wet, it almost hurt but felt so good at the same time.
He grabbed her hips, afraid to let her impale herself as it seemed she was bent on doing, and then slid one hand down to where they joined, rubbing her clit as she rocked on him.
He fought himself to keep from coming, and then felt her climax, her entire body seemed to spasm, and he couldn't hold his own back, and she collapsed onto his chest.
" Try her cell phone," Michael said, frowning slightly. It was 6:00 am, and Alexandra was not answering her home telephone number. No surprise Michael thought to himself. It didn't take him two seconds to guess where she was, in some strangers bed, passed out - hopefully sober enough to make it into Section One.
Nikita nodded, and dialed Alexandra's cell phone number. It rang four times, and then she answered it sleepily.
" Huh?"
" Sapphire," Nikita said, " Come in."
Nikita heard another ring in the background, and Darren's voice answering, " Hello" sounding just as sleepy.
Nikita hung up, and felt a nervous surge in her stomach. She hoped to god it wasn't what she though it was, but she knew better. It had only been a matter of time. Now, the trick was to hide it.
Michael got off the phone, and looked at Nikita, " Where was she?"
Nikita sighed, " I didn't ask her."
" Find out - she's putting herself at risk." Michael told her.
You have no idea . . . Nikita thought to herself.
Alexandra looked over at Darren, grabbing up her cloths as he grabbed up his.
"It's six am," Darren said, looking at his watch, " Not that I can do much about it now, but are you OK?"
She nodded, " Christ, they've gotta know I'm not at home."
Darren shrugged, " We just pretend things are the way they were yesterday. Just friends in Section one . . ."
She nodded, " I'll tell them I crashed a girlfriends house, we were out partying late, and I fell asleep there."
Darren nodded, and offered her a hand, pulling her up off the floor.
But instead of letting go, he pulled her into his arms, and kissed her firmly on the mouth, "Friends - until we're out of section one tonight."
Alexandra nodded, partially agreeing, partially because it was easier than saying anything right now. She grabbed a brush off of Darren's bathroom counter and ran it through her hair, and followed him out of his apartment, and got into her own car. It wouldn't do to have them show up in the same car.
When they arrived, she literally ran down the hall to her section one quarters. She'd have a change of cloths there. Maybe she'd be lucky, and no one would recognize she was wearing the same cloths as yesterday, that her fair was decidedly flatter, and that she had on no makeup what so ever.
But maybe she wasn't going to be so lucky.
She rounded the corner, and slammed right into Michael, Nikita barely stepped out of the way in time.
Michael caught her arms, steadying her, " Where are you going?"
She sighed, " I wanted to get something from my quarters."
He looked her up and down, not letting go of her arms, " Where were you this morning?"
She took a deep breath, " I crashed on a friends sofa, we were up really late talking."
She prayed to god she didn't smell like the beer she'd been drinking.
Darren came around the corner, and stopped in his tracks. His eye's briefly flickered fear, and then it disappeared. Nikita almost fell back on her butt. No way on god's green earth did she think Darren could have pulled that off so well. She just hoped Michael didn't catch it.
No such luck.
Michael had been watching Darren's face for a reaction.
" Hi there folks," he said, " Dragged you out of bed too Red?"
She pulled away from Michael, who let go of her, " Yeah, actually."
" The briefing is about to start," Michael said, gesturing for Alexandra and Darren to walk in front of him.
Alexandra sent up a silent prayer to the god she didn't believe in anymore that nothing else was going to go wrong this morning, that Darren wouldn't let his emotions run wild like they always did.
They pasted Birkhoff's com station just as he was standing up.
" Hey, what movie did you two rent last night?" He asked them, looking at Alexandra and Darren.
Alexandra did her best not to react with dread, resisting the urge to look at Darren. Darren answered quickly, " Some unheard of action flick - we had more fun critiquing how the assault than we had just watching the movie - hazards of the occupation I guess."
Alexandra blinked, and said a silent thank you. At least one of them had their head on straight this morning.
But she could almost feel Michael's accusing glare as he walked behind her, even though she knew if she looked, all she would see was his standard blank stare.
Nikita felt the reaction in Michael, even if no one could see it. It was damn near worse than if she came in drunk from someone else's bed. Section One didn't particularly care if you had a sex life, you just couldn't have any semblance of a relationship inside Section, or out of it. Nothing that interfered. As far as Michael was concerned, everything interfered.
Alexandra sat between Nikita and Darren through the briefing, listening intently, not asking any questions. It as a simple mission really. Their target would be in the city park today, where he'd find out where to meet his next contact. They'd follow him from the park to the next contact, and pick them both up.
It was going to be a well manned net. They had to get this guy.
" No mistakes people," Operations finished, " This is too important."
Birkhoff and Michael went through tactical, and they were dismissed for an hour until it was time to go.
" My office, now."
It was directed at Alexandra and Darren.
Alexandra had a strange sense of de ja vu. She hoped it didn't hurt as much this time - he only had an hour after all.
She stole a look over at Darren once Michael was in front of him, and he gave her a quick reassuring smile.
" Where were you last night?" Michael asked her, once he'd typed in the necessary commands to protect them from the ears of Section One.
Alexandra sighed, " Like you don't already know."
Michael remained silent staring her down.
" For Christ sakes! We ate pizza, polished off 2 beers a piece, watched a video and fell asleep. We didn't hurt anybody, no one is exposed, we haven't defected to some terrorist group - why is everyone so freaked out?" Darren snapped.
Michael looked at Darren, and then Alexandra, looking for any chink in their armor.
" It doesn't matter what I think-"
" Then why the hell are you riding my ass," Alexandra snapped at him, "What do you care if I go fuck half of Section One, get blasted out of my mind at a party, as long as I come to Section One able to perform."
Michael bristled, and Nikita cringed.
" Because you can't perform!" Michael yelled, " You come here drunk - I don't trust you to watch my back or anyone else's. And no one tries to hide where they spent the night unless they have something to hide about what they did while they were there."
Alexandra took slow steadying breaths, and willed Darren to not screw up now.
" Michael - 'Kita, we passed out in front of the T.V." Darren said.
" You can go, be at the egress on time - and dressed appropriately," Michael told them. Nikita almost breathed a sigh of relief when they left.
Michael typed in a few commands on the computer.
" What are you doing?"
" Pulling up automated surveillance," Michael said.
Nikita felt her stomach twist and churn.
" I thought we were using those resources elsewhere, unless there was a concern," she said slowly.
" New recruits are monitored by electronic means only. No one scans the recordings unless we pull up the file. They're retained for a week and discarded," Michael told her.
Nikita took a deep breath, " So there could be a computer file of us then."
Michael shook his head, " Neither one of us is considered new."
Nikita walked around behind Michael's desk, and felt her blood run ice cold at the image she saw. It was defiantly more than four beers between the two of them. Michael ran the recording through at high speed, and after several minutes, they saw a high speed version Alexandra and Darren making love on Darren's living room floor, in front of the t.v.
" They lied," Michael said, stopping the file.
He saved it on a disk, and typed in a few more commands.
" What are you doing?" she asked him.
" Erasing the file and canceling surveillance," Michael told her, " We'll deal with this after the mission."
Alexandra and Darren made sure they took positions far enough away from each other. They were being watched now, and they knew it. Chatting on a mission could be construed the wrong way now. In fact everything could be construed wrong.
And it gave both of them time to think.
Darren knew last night, even with that small buzz that he had, that what he was doing was wrong. Alexandra was beyond buzzed. She was intoxicated. No if ands or buts. He also knew something wasn't quite right with her lately. She was off balance, nearing her breaking point - she had the ability to say no, but she didn't want to because she didn't want to do anything she was supposed to do. He knew they were attracted to each other, but he also knew that most of what they did last night was rebellion on her part. She was going to do what she wanted, section one be damned.
A year ago, he'd have been thrilled dancing in the streets - that she cared, that she wanted him. Today, it made him feel good to be wanted, but it scared him. He didn't know what she was going to next. She was a powder keg ready to blow - and he'd helped her strike the match last night.
Her temper being as short as it was lately, she was just about likely to open her mouth and say 'yes Michael, we had sex, a couple times' and then tell him what position and what it felt like. Sometimes Darren thought she looked for a reason to pop off at Michael.
Probably because he was the firmest compared to Nikita. Nikita looked to solve a problem. Michael's answer was 'sections' way only. End of discussion.
Nikita was stationed, watching and waiting with Alexandra, who was as talkative this morning as your average rock.
Nikita reached up and switched off her transmitter and gestured for Alexandra to do the same.
" If this is going to be lecture, don't waist your breath," Alexandra said immediately.
Nikita sighed and thought to herself, I'm saving the lecture part for Michael . . . I hope that's all he does . . . .
"No lecture, not from me. I just want to talk without all of section one hearing me," Nikita told her.
"I didn't know that was allowed," Alexandra commented dryly.
Nikita sighed, " I know life sucks here."
Alexandra managed a short bitter laugh, and looked at Nikita with one eyebrow raised, but didn't say anything.
Her expression said 'tell me something I don't know' . . .
They were quiet for a few minutes.
" I'm willing to listen, any time Alex."
The redhead turned and looked at her, " Don't sweat it Nikita, I've always been fine, I always will be."
" You're on dangerous ground. Section one can be vicious in teaching lessons," Nikita reminded her.
Alexandra shrugged, " So be it. Our days are numbered as it is. I choose to enjoy what I have left - and yes, I know I'm on borrowed time."
" Nikita," Michael's voice was heard over the comset, " Target moving in your direction."
Nikita switched on the transmitter, Alexandra did he same, both women spread out, preparing to follow their target from different directions.
They waited and watched as Max tailed their target in.
Michael called for other operatives to take surrounding positions on the other side of the alley.
" It's blocked off Michael, there's a building site here, we can't get trough."
Alexandra looked over at Nikita, who was looking around where Max had followed their target in.
" Michael - there's more than - shit!" Max's voice could be heard, and then the loud bang of shots rang out.
The target came out of the alley, with four other people, instead of the one he was supposed to meet.
" I need more people," Nikita said, " They're getting in a van to leave!"
Alexandra and Nikita sprinted over, neither concerned about maintaining cover. They could hear several people calling in that they were converging on their location.
The van started and began to pull away.
" The tires," Nikita yelled to Alexandra, " We need them alive."
They both aimed for tires. Nikita taking out the front and back passenger side.
Alexandra raced out in front of the careening van, heedless of her own safety, and blew out the front divers side tire, then taking out the back drivers side.
Operatives poured out of the woodwork.
" What about Max," Alexandra asked.
" Leave him," Michael said, " We're exposed as it is. He'll have to make it back on his own. Law enforcement is on the way now."
Alexandra looked over at Nikita for a moment. Nikita shook her head, but Alexandra turned and ran for the alleyway anyhow.
Birkhoff looked over at Michael, as one of the blips started moving towards the alley.
" Who is it," Michael asked him.
Birkhoff new better than to try and hide it, especially with Michael, " Alexandra."
Michael nodded, " Alex, we don't have time, Law enforcement is converging on the park. The van has to leave now."
" Then go," she answered, and then the comlink went dead.
" She's shut down," Birkhoff said.
They heard the tell tale tapping of heals behind them. Birkhoff turned to look, Michael didn't. They both knew who it was.
" Who's stepped out of the sequence?" Madeline asked.
" Max was hit, he's down. Alex is going to extract him now," Michael told her, acknowledging her only with a glance.
" And she's disconnected the com link," Madeline observed, " Now does this affect our exposure risk?"
" 60 if they are picked up," Birkhoff said, " I can dispatch a separate transport."
" There isn't a full pickup team available," Michael replied, " If they're exposed, Nikita and I will contain the situation."
" We're out of the park," Nikita's voice said, " Law Enforcement has sealed off the area, Alex and Max are still inside."
" Come in," Michael ordered.
" Hey," Alexandra said, squatting down next to Max, shoving her gun into the waistband of her jeans, " how bad is it?"
Max looked up at her with glazed eye's, " You disobeyed orders . . ."
Alexandra managed a laugh, " So what's new? How bad is it?"
Max was breathing heavy, and he lifted up his hand. Blood was soaking through shirt, his jacket, it oozed on his fingers.
" No burning?" she asked him.
He shook his head, " Missed my lung, hurts like hell though."
She heard the sirens getting closer and closer.
" I need you to stand up Max, I'm not strong enough to carry you," Alexandra said, her voice taking on an urgent note, " I don't want to get cleaned by section in county lockup."
He nodded, and she stood back, offering her hand. He used her to help pull himself up, and almost pulled her down. She leaned back, straining to help him get to his feet, and he finally did, staggering a little.
A chain link fence separated them from the construction site, and she led him over to it. Max leaned on her heavily, and let go when she climbed to the top, and got one leg over, and reached down for him.
" I . . ." he gasped.
" Max, I am this side of abeyance - if I don't get your ass back I'm there. Please," she begged, " I'll pull, you push with your feet."
He nodded, as if drunk. Alexandra grabbed the collar of his coat and pulled with all the strength she had, feeling her back muscles strain.
Slowly, he made it to the top, and toppled over to the other side.
Alexandra jumped down, and helped him stand back up.
There was a ladder up against the next wall, and she pulled him up behind her again, and once again, he tumbled over to the other side. Just as he hit the ground, she heard Police in the alley way they were in before.
She scanned the lot in front of them, looking for a car. Busses and Taxi's were out of the question at this point.
Max leaned on her, and they moved down another side alley, and found an old beater parked behind a restaurant. The hood felt cold, so it had been here for a few hours.
It took only a moment to jimmy the lock open, and she shoved Max into the passenger seat, and reached under the dash, and started to pull out wires.
" Watch for me buddy - I don't want to kill anyone today 'cause I forgot to bring a car," she told him, trying to make light of the situation.
She heard him mumble something, and the engine roared to life. She put the car in gear, and hit the gas, quickly leaving the alley.
The garage that lead into Section One was accessed via palm print. She was almost afraid that it wouldn't open for her after what she'd done. But the fates were with her, or Birkhoff was helping her out, or Michael, Madeline and Operations were just looking forward to taking their pound of flesh out of her ass.
The door opened, she drove in, and the door closed behind it.
" Dear god we made it," She said quietly, and looked over at Max.
" Thank you," he murmured, his eye's flickering open.
" Don't thank me Max - if you'd have died out there - you'd be free of this hell on earth we call Section One. It might have been kinder to let you die." she said, and climbed out of the car, and hit the intercom on the wall, " I need medlab here in the garage!"
She went back to the car, and opened the door.
Max looked at her with eye's she knew were having trouble focusing, " You really think it would have been better?"
She sighed, " Max - you're one of the kindest people here I know . . . but lets face it - our lives here are miserable - if when I found you, I knew you'd die from the bullet wound you have, I'd have left you there. But you'd have lived long enough to flounder around in a hospital, Section would have sent a cleaning crew. I can't think of a worse way to die. If I couldn't have gotten you out, I'd have put a bullet in your head. If the police had caught up with us, I'd have done us both."
He frowned, and reached up with his hand, and stroked her cheek. It was a kind friendly gesture.
" Life here isn't so bad, once you get used to it," he told her, " You'll get used to it."
She sighed, " Max, if I wasn't such a coward, I'd have been dead a year ago. Sometimes I think about doing it now . . ."
She heard the door opening, and turned to see Medlab staff come through with a stretcher.
" They want you in debrief now," one of the medics told her.
She nodded to Max, stepping back, and headed for the elevator.
Birkhoff looked up at Michael. They'd been able to monitor Alexandra and Max the entire time because Max had not turned his transmitter off.
Birkhoff had just heard Alexandra talk about suicide, and looked up at Michael, " I didn't know she was that bad."
Michael was silent for a moment, " Erase the transmission, put a copy on a disk."
Birkhoff nodded, and typed in a few commands, and handed Michael a disk.
The redhead in question came through a door on the far side of the main floor, and locked eye's with Michael briefly. Eye's that bore no hope, only resolution. Michael remembered seeing Nikita like that, once. It frightened him then, it frightened him now, to see it in Alexandra's eyes. His feelings for Alexandra were vastly different from the ones he held for Nikita. Despite the fact that she pissed him off at every turn, he had a certain respect for her. It was her intelligence, for the ability to separate the job, even how she thought about others before herself - most of the time. But now he knew what it took from her. Somehow, he'd managed to get attached to her, to both her and Darren in fact. Just as Nikita had done.
She took the stairs up to debrief, knowing Michael watched her the entire time. She resisted the urge to turn and tell him to fuck off.
" What did you think you were going to accomplish?" Operations demanded.
Alexandra sighed, " Max -"
" Max, like any other section one operative, is acceptable collateral," Operations snapped at her, " We don't put the life of one operative above the lives of the whole. You put Section One at risk by risking yourself being arrested as well."
She sighed, " He was far from dead in that alley. If we'd have been picked up by the police, I'd have done us both before they took us to county jail. The last think I want is death by cleaning crew."
Madeline had remained quiet the entire time, until now.
" What makes you think you don't face cancellation now?" Madeline asked her.
Cancel me, do me a favor, 'cause I'm too much of a coward to do it myself . . .
" Because I can still do the job, how many operatives here don't hesitate when they pull the trigger on an innocent life Madeline?" Alexandra asked her, " And those of us who don't hesitate - how many of them do you worry about, when they aren't on the leash?"
" This is your last free screw up. I don't want to see shreds of humanity out of you," Operations warned her.
" You can go," Madeline told her, " Keep in mind, Your actions directly affect those around you."
Alexandra knew she'd just been threatened with lives other than her own.
" Michael wants to see us in his office," Darren said, as she reached the bottom of the stairs.
His pound of flesh . . .
" Wonder what we did?" Alexandra muttered, as they slowly walked to Michael's' office.
Darren held his tongue. It had occurred to him that Operations and Madeline were totally in the dark about all the problems Alexandra was having - until now. That meant Nikita - and Michael, were protecting her.
" Maybe they've just got more training they want to go over with us," Darren answered, and looked over at her, realizing how lame it sounded.
She looked up at him, her expression belied how tired she was. Her expression almost lifeless. So different from the passionate woman who'd clung to him, and dug her nails into his flesh last night as they made love. It scared him.
She sighed, " I hope I haven't screwed you over."
Darren smiled, " I doubt Section One makes decisions about me based on you Alex."
They had reached Michael's office, and the door was open, Nikita and Michael obviously waiting.
" You can close the door," Michael said turning the lap top screen around. He keyed in a couple of commands to protect what little privacy they had.
" What is this?" Alexandra asked, watching as Michael slid a disk in.
" Video surveillance," Nikita answered her.
Darren closed his eye's and groaned, and leaned back on the small sofa. Alexandra sat rigid, her arms folded and crossed in front of her.
The image came up on the screen. She and Darren were drinking beer, a lot of beer, and watching the video.
" I don't think anyone needs to see the rest of this," Alexandra said after a moment.
Nikita hit the fast forward button, " Oh, you mean this part, the part where you weren't having sex?"
The video went high speed, and dropped to normal to show Alexandra and Darren having sex on Darren's living room floor. Judging from where they were, and what they were doing on the screen, both Darren and Alexandra knew that Nikita and Michael knew about the whole night. Each event. Every intimate detail.
" You can turn that off any time now," Darren said quietly.
" I thought we weren't doing anything we had to hide," Nikita replied, letting the video continue to play.
" I don't want to hide it, but normal people with normal lives don't take their home sex movies to work and share with their co-workers, I'd rather not do it here - as twisted as this place is."
Alexandra stood up, walked over popped the disk out, and busted it in half, and threw it over the desk and into the garbage can.
The room was frighteningly silent.
" If you want to cancel me, just do it. I simply do not care anymore," Alexandra told them, but her gaze remained on Michael staring him down.
You don't get the easy way out," Michael told her, " None of us do. There's another briefing scheduled for this evening, we have a mission in the middle east. I suggest you get some sleep - separately, since you didn't get any last night."
Nikita watched as they both got up and left quietly.
" She shouldn't be on active status," Michael said, after the door was closed.
Nikita looked over at him, " I did the same things. She can do the job, she's still growing into it. It took me time."
Michael pulled another disk from his jacket, " Max's comlink was still live. Birkhoff and I were able to hear a conversation she had with Max."
Michael replayed the conversation Alexandra had with Max in the garage.
" I didn't know it was that bad," Nikita said quietly, after Michael took the cd out, "I guess we should have known though - from what we've seen lately."
Michael didn't reply. He didn't know what to do. He could understand really, even if part of him didn't want to.
" I need to go meet that contact again," Michael told her, knowing she'd understand who it was, " I'd like you to come with me."
The 'contact' meant Michael's sister.
Nikita nodded, and they silently left Section One.
It didn't take long for Nikita to realize they weren't going to Sarah's apartment. Instead, they really did meet a contact. Someone Michael knew from the agency.
He was a short, wiry man, dressed in a 3 piece suit. In the span of 15 minutes, Michael learned that 'Sarah Deveroux' came to the agency by way of an accident. They found her catatonic in a dungeon of sorts, when the agency accidentally stumbled across red cell. After the blood bath was over, The agency brought in everyone they found alive to question them Sarah Deveroux has no memory what so ever. As far as their contact knew, she still didn't. But they did find from one of Red Cells operatives that she'd been brought in with a husband and child, all three of them had been taken hostage with a large group of civilians. Red Cell simply had not had a chance to use their hostages when the agency stumbled across them.
Sarah Deveroux knew she had a husband and child only because the operative had mentioned it. She'd stayed with the agency since then, training to be an operative for them.
The man the met also told them that her latest assignment had turned up missing, and that she'd been recalled this morning.
" Are you going to contact her," Nikita asked him, once they had left the park where they met Michael's agency contact.
" No," Michael said quietly, " There's no point in stirring up a past that doesn't exist for her . . . and I don't want her to be used as leverage."
Nikita nodded, and knew Michael was making a good decision - for Sarah's sake. Even if it hurt him.
Continue on to Resolution