November came and went. For Kristie, it had been the longest six weeks of her life. She'd gone through two surgeries. The doctor had removed the cataracts, and inserted plastic lenses into her eyes. The first night - after the first surgery, she'd been able to see the inside of the bandage. When they had finally taken the bandage off, the whole world seemed to be in intense Technicolor. Everything was extremely bright. It was the same thing when they'd done her other eye. Then there had been the little issue of making her retest on the firing range. Now, after six long weeks, she was going back to active duty.

Just in time to enjoy the holiday season with the terrorists of the world. It just figured.

She'd left Stephen's bed early to get in her morning work out. Stephen's team had come back late last night. He'd let himself into his apartment at 11:00 pm - and didn't appear the least bit surprised to find Kristie sleeping in his bed. It had been easy to slip into the routine of being a couple again. A routine she missed - and that scared her most of all. But life was short - especially life here. She'd be a fool not to enjoy what time she had.

She passed by one of the smaller gyms, pausing to look inside for a moment. Darren was in there, his hands just barely padded up, clad in a muscle shirt and bike shorts, the small light weight sparing boots on his feet. They were designed only to cut down on the scraps and scratches inherent to practicing - and give the wearer the effect of the same weight an average shoe would. It made sense -when they used this, they wouldn't be wearing a gi - and they wouldn't have padded hands and feet.

This morning, Darren was attacking the heavy boxing bag like it was evil incarnate, punishing it for every sin and transgression from the beginning of time. Kristie stood there, unable to help herself for a moment. She'd seen Darren fight - for practice inside Section - to win outside in the field. He was good - he was dangerous - this morning something was different. He was angry. It was all rage. That control he normally exercised wasn't there.

She sighed, and wondered if something had gone wrong on a mission. He'd been leading his own teams - on smaller scale missions - for six months now. He'd been getting bigger and bigger assignments in the last few weeks too. But somehow she knew interrupting him this morning, asking how he was, would be a mistake. She backed away from the window, and headed for the main gym. She'd catch him later.

Once inside the main gym, she spotted Kim on an exercise bike - Tony on a treadmill near by. Kristie slid up next to Kim climbing onto one of the bikes.

"Good morning," Kristie said, "Or is it good evening for you two? Weren't you all out on a mission a few hours ago."

Kim nodded, and glanced over at Tony. Kristie quickly followed her friend's eyes. All was not well.

"It was a rather . . . stressful mission," Kim commented, and gestured to the bike, "So we're venting our frustration here."

"I always thought sex was the best stress reliever myself," Kristie teased her friend, "But hey - to each their own."

"We're also on closed quarters," Kim muttered, "For bullshit reason's, but we're still here."

Kristie raised an eyebrow, "Oh no, what happened?"

Kim looked around a little, then back at Kristie, "I think we were sold out. Madeline and Operations aren't so sure. We arrived on sight - and it looks like no one is home. So we wait, I'm rechecking the Intel that Section has - pull a thermal scan from a satellite - and this all takes time. So the whole team is just waiting - on the perimeter the sim came up with for us. All of a sudden - I pick up heat signatures 20 yards back - they just appeared. The team was ambushed. We lost 4 cold ops, we missed our target completely. We brought in one of the pricks that killed our guys - and they aren't even from the same terrorist group. Mercs for hire. Operation and Madeline think the Mercs were hired as a security detail. But my money is on bad Intel and us being sold out."

Kristie groaned, "Shit - who did we lose?"

"Greg, Brian, Floyd, and Kevin," Kim told her, "Half the team."

"Damn . . . well that explains why Darren is beating the big bag to death in the boxing room."

Tony had stepped off his treadmill, and walked over to where Kim and Kristie were talking. He carefully looked around, "I'm worried he's gonna crack here soon. He's lost 6 people in the last 6 months. Granted, 4 of them were last night - but still. He doesn't go out anymore. He's working - all the time. He looks for a reason to stay here and work. If he's home, he's working. If he's here, he's working - and if he sees Alex . . . Jesus the look he gets on his face sometimes. I worry."

Kristie felt her stomach twist, "Uh . . . clue me in, I haven't been seeing this, but I haven't seen Darren much at all."

Tony sighed, "He's gets this look on his face that says regret whenever he sees her, and he looks like he's in physical pain. Then he gets up, or looks away, and just finds something to do. Anything."

"And if we can see it  . . ." Kim's voice trailed off.

"So can Madeline." Kristie groaned.

***

Nikita sighed deeply, as she watched the computer generated sequence mimic what Darren's team had done, and listened to the audio transmissions. There was no confirming evidence either way. The target certainly had not been there. There wasn't any real evidence to confirm that the target had been tipped off.

The one mercenary that they'd brought back to question only knew that they were hired to guard the compound. That was it.

And there was nothing really flawed with Darren's performance. Operations was pissed at the situation. Darren and Nikita got to bear the brunt of it, because it was Darren's team, and Darren was Nikita's material.

It had been a costly mission. They'd lost four cold ops. Section was didn't have a surplus of operatives right now. In a few months they would catch up - assuming that they didn't have anymore trainee's that were in the final stages fail. Right now, the few they had in their last few months of training looked like they would succeed - but it was the first few months actually on a job that would be telling. On top of that- it would be a few months before those trainees could even be used. Nikita hoped it slowed down this year during the last 3 weeks of December. It had last year. In fact, it had every year but one - since she'd been in Section.

She heard a knock on her door, and she looked over to it, and called out "Come in". She'd closed her door today. She'd found herself doing it more and more often. She got less social visitors, and she needed her time to get all the work done. When she'd become a level 5 operative, and found herself with an office, she'd made a promise to herself that her door would be open as much as possible. It was symbolic gesture. This particular matter needed her full attention though. Things that needed her full attention were happening more and more often too.

The door was pushed open. Darren stepped through. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail. His expression reserved, grave. He seemed tense.

"I was just reviewing last night's mission," Nikita told him, nodding towards the chair.

Darren sat down stiffly, not saying anything. His gaze was steady, and glued to Nikita.

"There wasn't anything you could have done. There were no mistakes. But there is no way for us to tell if the target had been warned. It's going to be a matter of back tracking our information - and DRV will handle that."

"I have another mission going out tomorrow," Darren began slowly, "It requires 8, it can be done with 6. I need two more people."

"I'll take care of it," Nikita told him, "Have you slept?"

"I'm not tired," Darren replied.

Nikita nodded a little, shifted in her chair, and pulled up a file, then looked at Darren, "Martial arts could use some help today. Some of my trainee's are in there from 3 to 5."

Darren nodded, got up from his chair, and walked out.

Nikita watched him go, and chewed her lip. She was worried about his mood. His performance had been fine on missions. But the last few weeks, she'd noticed that his behavior outside of missions had been rather reserved and withdrawn.

***

"Michael, Alex - you have a hostile coming in from the south," Birkhoff's voice came over the comm unit.

Alexandra shifted, just a little bit. Michael continued to work on the lock. The scrambler had shorted out just as they plugged it in.

A shadow appeared in the stairwell, and Alexandra slowly let out her breath, waiting. The gun barrel came out first, then a head. She'd had the area sighted up, and when the head appeared, she squeezed the trigger. Her aim was dead on - and a millisecond later, blood splattered back against the wall.

"That was messy," She muttered, and frowned, "Remind me to ask Walter what grain of amo we're using. I'm either becoming a wuss, or there's more kick to this stuff."

Michael didn't answer her. But a moment later, the door popped open.

"We're in," Michael said calmly, stepping through the door.

Inside the room, there was a desk with a stand-alone computer. Michael slid a disk inside, plugged a router into the back, and turned the computer on.

"Birkhoff?" Michael asked.

"I'm getting it now," Birkhoff's voice answered, "And you've got another hostile in the stairwell. They're breaking off from the 3 and 4 team."

"Team 3 and 4 pursue," Michael ordered.

Alexandra was still at the door, again, sighting up the stair well. She saw the body slide back, and then the hostile stepped into view gun up - but not aimed.

She let off two more shots. The body jerked, and then crumbled back.

"Birkhoff, where are the hostiles now?"

"Bottom of the stairwell, Team 3 has 2 of them pinned there, and the other 3 are in the parking lot."

"What are they doing in the -" Alexandra started to ask.

But before she finished asking the question, she knew the answer. The power suddenly went down, and they were plunged in darkness.

Alexandra heard some scuffling in the stairwell, as she yanked her night vision glasses into place. Just as she was able to make out shapes, two figures appeared. She let off a few shots, and a few shots slammed into the wall next to her. Both bodies slammed back, one of them tumbling down the stairs. She heard one of the Section cold ops swear, following an "oomph" sound. Alexandra smirked. One of the bodies must have hit him. But what was he doing so close to them, and not firing?

"Birkhoff," Michael said calmly, "The power is down. Did we get enough data?"

"Not really, but it looks like reinforcements are on the way for the plant. You better get out of there."

Alexandra stepped into the hallway moving carefully. She could see the shapes, see the shadow of some of the blood splatters as she and Michael quickly made their way down the stairs. Her boot slid in some of the pooling blood, and she twisted, flailing to keep her balance.

It was Michael's hand that grabbed her arm in a vice grip, catching her before she went down, and they continued to work through the maze of hallways. Minutes later, they were climbing into the van with the rest of the team.

"Go," Michael ordered the driver, just as the door was being pulled closed.

It was early morning by the time they arrived back in Section - just after midnight. Michael felt the minutes tick by as if they were hours. Operations was irritated that the team hadn't anticipated what the hostiles were going to do. It was Michael's team - therefore  - It was Michael's fault. Michael didn't react. He didn't glare at his team. He knew that no one knew that the power source could be taken down from there. There was no point in arguing with Operations, no point in berating his team. They'd performed well with the information they had. He just wanted this briefing to be over. He wanted to go home - to his wife.

Nikita was awake the moment Michael opened the front door. She turned onto her back, and reached for the light, flicking it on for him.

Michael's eyes raked over Nikita, taking in her mussed hair, the slightly wrinkled baby blue T-shirt she wore.

"How'd it go?" Nikita asked him, her voice soft, relaxed.

Michael started to pull off his cloths, and dump them into the hamper.

"There was a power station in the parking lot that was not on the schematics. The hostiles managed to cut the power, we didn't get the entire database," Michael replied, and slid into the bed, naked. He reached for Nikita, and pulled her T-shirt up and off of her.

A smile crept across her lips, and Nikita slid her panties off, and stretched out over Michael.

"Operations was angry?" Nikita asked.

Michael rolled Nikita under him, pushing her legs apart with his, "I don't want to talk about Section right now 'Kita."

His mouth came down hungrily on hers, his kiss passionate and demanding. Nikita felt the tight coil of desire in her start to build even more. She slid her fingers up Michael's back, then down again, kneading his buttocks. She knew her hands stroking and kneading on his back and buttocks got to him, urged him on.

Michael shifted, rubbing his hardened member against her sensitive nether lips, feeling her become wet against him. He pulled his mouth from hers, and sat back, kneeling between her legs still.

Nikita looked up at him with glazed eyes, her lips parted, her breathing rapid. She sucked in her breath when he parted her nether lips with his fingers, and grasping his own thick hard member, started to stroke her with his tip. Nikita moaned and shuddered with the erotic torment. Michael watched her, struggling against his own bodies reactions. He wanted to prolong his teasing of her a little bit longer, but he was fast losing the battle to his own desire.

She shuddered then, her body jerking slightly under him, the sudden gasp and moan telling Michael she'd reached her climax - much faster than either one of them had anticipated. Michael slid the tip of his cock down, finding her sheath and sliding inside her while her body was still shuddering. Her tender, sensitive flesh quivered around him, clamping down, and Michael sighed in relief. This was home, this was where he belonged.

He stretched out over her again, their bodies molding together, rocking back and forth, the rhythmic thrusting building and building.

Michael's mouth brushing Nikita's, his eyes looking deeply into hers, the eye contact never braking, until Nikita's body started to convulse again. Michael relaxed his tightly held control, feeling his own orgasm take over, and he came with her. His eye's slid closed as his mouth met hers again, drinking in her sweet taste, holding her tight and close while their bodies started to relax into each other.

"Love you," Nikita murmured in his ear.

"Love you too," Michael whispered back.

***

Alexandra knocked gently on the door to Darren's apartment. He'd left a message for her that he had Pepe, she could pick him up if she wanted to, or he'd bring him in the next day.

Tonight, Alexandra wanted her dog. But She also wanted to see Darren.  She'd heard some things - and she'd never had a chance to talk to him inside Section. He was always so busy, burying himself in work, checking and rechecking things excessively.

She'd heard that he'd been a little short tempered. He came in with shadows under his eyes. He got into a nasty argument with Beth in the hallway two weeks ago. Beth just wasn't accepting that it was over. She'd been waiting for him more than once when his team had returned. Darren had given up being polite a month ago. Kristie had mentioned that while she'd been confined to Section during her initial recovery from eye surgery, Darren had seemed a little bummed out when he visited her.

So now, she found herself standing at his door. Away from prying eyes - she hoped. The door swung open, and Darren stood there, his hair down, wearing sweat pants and nothing else. His hair was loose.

"Did I wake you up?" she asked as she stepped inside.

"No," Darren replied, his gaze hungrily sliding over her. Then, all of a sudden, he looked away. Alexandra felt like she'd suddenly been released from a warm hug prematurely. It was almost painful.

"I uh . . . I got your message about Pepe - and I wanted to see you anyhow."

Darren nodded, but didn't look directly at her.

Pepe was standing on the sofa, his little tail wagging wildly in the air, his ears up and alert. It was the 'I am so happy to see you' stance. He looked like he was gonna explode from excitement any moment. But he looked like that most of the time.

Darren sat down in one of the single chairs, Alexandra shrugged off her coat, laying it across the end of the sofa, and sat down next to her dog. Pepe scrambled into her lap. Alexandra started to stroke his back.

"You look like you're not sleeping," Alexandra mentioned.

Darren looked back at her, his expression wary, his tone harsh, "Who told you that? Tony? Kim?"

Alexandra shook her head, "No - they didn't. But I do see you in Section - working, all the time. Morning, noon and night. I saw  you in the gym the other day, and now - with dark circles under your eyes that didn't used to be there. It's three am. Why aren't you asleep?"

"Why don't you sleep Alex?" Darren asked her, his voice and tone harsh. He got up from the chair and walked over to his small balcony, looking down at the street. The city had started to decorate the street lamps and trees two weeks ago. It was almost Christmas.

Alexandra gently pushed Pepe off her lap and onto the sofa, "Darren - Talk to me. I heard you lost a few people off your team, Kristie said you seemed a little down - and you're not yourself lately."

He sighed and laughed bitterly, "I'm surprised you noticed."

Alexandra bit her lip, and squeezed her eyes closed. He was spoiling for a fight.

"OK, whatever sin I've committed this time, just scream and yell at me for it, and lets get this over with. I came to get Pepe and see what's going on with you. I never get to talk to you inside Section anymore, and you never leave long enough for me to catch you at home."

Darren sighed, "I'm just . . . irritable lately. It's not really you Alex. Just take Pepe and go on home. Sleep well."

Alexandra stared at his back for a few minutes, and quietly moved up behind him. She pressed her palms to his shoulders, and felt his whole body stiffen suddenly. She stroked her hands down his back, then slid them around his waist, and up his chest.

Darren sucked in his breath, and grabbed her hands, "You don't have to do this."

Alexandra sighed, and slid in between his body and the glass door, "Are you trying to politely tell me you don't want to?"

"No," Darren said gently, looking down at her, his fingers intertwining with hers, "But I know you. You'll come to my bed because you think it's what I want - and I don't want you to feel like trash because of me."

She groaned, "We always manage to complicate things lately. Darren I'm worried about you and a bunch of other things. But I'm not feeling you up in your living room just for you. If you don't want to - just tell me before I make a complete fool of myself."

Darren let go of her hand, and slid his arms around her waist, holding her in close to his chest, "I am ok Alex. You don't need to worry about me."

"What is keeping you up at night?" she whispered into his chest.

Darren drew in a deep breath, "Just . . . stuff."

She moved, just slightly, and ran the tip of her tongue across one of his nipples. Darren hissed, white-hot desire surging through him. The memory of her licking a drop of water off him in the hallway slammed back into him - and again, his body reacted almost violently. He was hardening against her now. He knew she could feel it.

"Alex," he said softly, gently, pulling them away from the glass door, and then he eased her away from his chest a little, but didn't let go of her, "Not like this. Did Nikita send you? I know you'd tell Madeline to go to hell."

Alexandra groaned, "Jesus Darren! I'd tell Nikita to go to hell to if she'd sent me here to try and seduce you and get you to talk! Is it so hard for you to believe that I came here on my own?"

Darren sighed, "I'm just worked up over the missions lately is all. You heard I lost half my team, right?"

Alexandra started to push him towards his bedroom, "Oh yeah, heard all about it. Bad Intel - that's what one of the theories is."

Darren scooped Pepe up off the sofa as they walked by him, and once they were in the bedroom, he set Pepe down on the end of the bed. He pulled Alexandra around in front of him, and gently unfastened her slacks, and watched her kick them off. She shrugged her shirt, bra and panties off, and let them fall to the floor where her slacks lay. Darren dropped his sweats down next to her slacks.

But when she climbed onto the bed, Darren arranged her so her back was to his chest, his arms wrapped around her, the blanket pulled up and over them.

"I've lost seven people over the last few months Alex. One suicide - which I can't believe I didn't see coming, two on other missions, and four last night. The worst part is - there wasn't a damn thing I could have done differently."

"Are you having nightmares?"

"Sometimes," Darren said quietly, "Sometimes my brain is just racing - and I can't slow down enough to sleep."

Alexandra didn't have to ask about the long hours he spent rechecking and evaluating profiles. He was looking for ways to minimize losses.

"I know this doesn't help - but bad luck is a factor in all this Darren."

She felt his heart pounding in his chest, against her back. It wasn't stress, or fear, but raw desire. He didn't want to use her to divert himself. But this time, she wanted to be used.

"I know," he whispered, "I just gotta work it out, in my head. Probably the same as the way you sometimes need to work things out on your own."

Alexandra nodded, and turned in his arms, "Let me help you at least get to sleep then?"

Darren opened his mouth to tell her no, but the sheer longing in her eye's stopped him. He let her push him onto his back, and when she crawled over him, he expected her to sheath him within her. But instead, she slid down, and took his now rock hard member into her mouth.

It was raw liquid heat that enveloped him, and Darren couldn't stop the quiet moan of pleasure that slipped out of his mouth. She drew back, grazing with her teeth, stroking with her tongue, then slid back down again, rubbing the tip along the roof of her mouth.

Up and down, up and down, and Darren rode the waves of exquisite torture, feeling his pleasure build and rage through his veins. He couldn't stop himself when he reached down, sliding his fingers into her hair, massaging her neck, and stroking her scalp. He felt her nip at the ultra sensitive tip of his member, and that was the end of his control. He tried to pull her back and off, but she pushed his hands away, still stroking him with her mouth, drawing out each and every last tremble and convulsion his body had left.

Darren had become nothing more than a mass of exhausted cells when she finally rose up and gulped down half the water in the glass next to the bed. Then she snuggled into his side, drawing the blanket up and over them, and pressed a kiss to his neck.

"Sleep," she urged him softly.

"I love you," Darren murmured, his arm settling around her waist.

"I love you," Alexandra said softly, already feeling his heartbeat slowing down, his breathing changing to a deeper, slower pace.

The phone rang. Both Alexandra and Darren were yanked back into the conscious world from a deep sleep. They were at Darren's apartment. While he reached for the phone, she turned towards the lamp. The room lit up, and she sat up, and looked over at the clock. It was 6:00 am. Pepe groaned, and rolled over.

Alexandra smiled a little. He was so spoiled.

Then, her cell phone went off.

Alexandra grabbed for her bag, pulled her phone out and answered.

"Sapphire," A voice said, "Come in."

Alexandra hung up, and slid out of bed, and reaching for her clothing, "Care to hazard a guess?"

Darren pulled her towards the shower with him, "Something big - considering I didn't prep it, and it just came up."

Their shower was a quick, clinical act. No romance, not playful stroking or touching. It was a matter of economy and time that they took it together. When they reached Section, Nikita was in the briefing room.

"We barrowed you Alex," Nikita told her, "We're a little short people right now."

Alexandra nodded, and sat down on one of the chairs. Would she answer to Darren? Or Nikita? It wasn't that she didn't want to answer to Darren. That was not an issue for her. But when she was working with Darren - Section tended to be judging or testing. He was in no shape for another test.

She watched him as he stood there, talking with Nikita. He seemed a little more relaxed. Maybe she was just seeing what she wanted to see.

But she did know, it felt good to wake up with him - instead of just thinking about him.

Operations walked in at that moment, and the briefing began.

"Two hours ago, the agency intercepted Intel regarding a terrorist attack on American soil. The explosive to be used will be delivered this evening - in Kosovo, of all places. We're going to intercept the delivery of the explosive, and take the individuals delivering the product and the receiving it - for questioning. Transport leaves in 20 minutes. Your panels will have more detailed information."

Nikita stopped Darren as he reached the door, "I'll be providing technical oversight from here. You'll run the team in the field."

Darren nodded, "OK."

"You've got three new people to deal with Darren. Be firm. No leeway," Nikita reminded him.

It was in Walter's station that Darren saw Alexandra again. She was dressed in the standard black mission gear. Darren felt his groin tighten, his eye's finding her lips, thinking about what had happened a few hours ago. He wanted to kiss her very badly right now. He stood there for a moment, just watching, and she dropped something. Then she bent over to pick it up, providing him with a very nice view of her tush.

Walter happened to look over at him, and noticed exactly what was going on. He gave Darren a sly grin.

Alexandra had stood up then, and turned to look to see what Walter was looking at. She found Darren standing there.

"What?" she asked him.

Darren shook his head, "Nothing - got my gear Walter?"

Alexandra stepped just out of the munitions station, and waited while Darren got his gear.

Walter said softly to Darren, "Enjoy working with her."

"I do," Darren groaned, "To much."

Walter chuckled, and watched Darren and Alexandra head away from his station.

"What was that all about?" Alexandra asked Darren again.

"I . . . you just look too damn good Alex," Darren sighed, looking down and over at her, "and right now, I really wish I could drag you back to my bedroom, lock the door, turn off the phone . . ."

Alexandra smiled a little, "I may take you up on that when we get back."

***

Michael was very methodical in how he dressed for these missions. It was a low penetration Valentine Op situation. He'd meet her at the party, dance with her, get her to take him back to her room, and search the room. Right now, as he dressed in just the right clothing, he was mentally distancing himself. He had to. Otherwise he'd never be able to do this. Nikita would slip, unbidden, into his mind in the middle of it. That could be disastrous.

Madeline walked into wardrobe at that moment, and watched Michael adjust the shirt of his tuxedo.

"Have you discussed this with Nikita?" Madeline asked him.

"No," Michael replied.

"I suppose you think this is payback," Madeline commented.

Michael didn't reply to that.

"Why did you feel the need to go to George?" Madeline asked him.

Michael finished with his shirt, "Why do you keep information?"

"To protect my position. Did you feel you needed some form of protection?"

Michael took the microdot she held in her hand, and slid it into his pocket, "I like being married."

"Does your wife like being married when you're sent out on missions of this nature?" Madeline countered.

"Our work lives are separate from our personal lives," Michael replied.

"So that's how you think you'll make it work. You're both possessive Michael. How long before you're wishing you hadn't asked George for that favor?" Madeline asked him.

Michael didn't answer. He simply walked past her.

The target was a beautiful woman. Medium height, thick honey blonde hair. Tanned skin and full lips.  Michael knew she was in her early forties. When he managed to get to her, and ask her to dance, he could see little small faint traces telling him she was defiantly in her mid thirties. Her eyes were older. But he'd seen those same eyes on Nikita and Alex - both of them young women. There were traces of plastic surgery. Michael wouldn't recognize them unless he hadn't know what to look for. She'd had her lips injected with collagen apparently. She'd had some fine lines removed around her eyes and lips. Her nose had been altered. Whoever her plastic surgeon was, he was good. Michael may not have been able to pick out the faint traces if he hadn't been told about them. The target had lived a hard life. Michael knew that from the Intel that he'd been given earlier. He also knew she was very vain - and her vanity extended to the men she kept - and took.

It was second nature to him now. He no longer worried about his appearance, his walk conveyed confidence. In truth - he didn't worry about those things when he first started either. It was years later, when he truly understood the importance of packaging together the physical appearance, how one carried themselves, and the psychological aspects that he thought to wonder and worry over these things. But his natural talents had made him an ideal candidate for Section One - both as a cold op and a valentine op.

He was cursed.

Michael maneuvered himself into a position near her, where she couldn't help but notice him. It took only 5 minutes for her to approach him. They drank a glass of champagne together. They waltzed a few times.

When the party was drawing to a close, she drew him into the elevator with her, up to her room on the penthouse floor.

It was so easy, Michael was almost sick to his stomach. She pressed her body to his, he went into machine mode, averting his eyes to her lips, his fingers stroking the bare skin on her back. She would never know he was on automatic pilot.

Down the hall, into her room. More kisses, her hands groping at his body roughly. Their clothing was shed. She shoved him down onto the bed. Michael was as rough with her as she was with him. Her psych profile dictated that would be the best route to take.

A little while later, she was done. Michael withdrew from her, his excuse being that he was getting them a glass of water. He came back with two glasses, and handed her the one he'd slipped the drug into. She drank it, and a few moments later, slipped into a deep sleep.

Michael quickly dressed. The drug she'd been given would also act as a tracker. Section would be able to track her for three days. At the end of three days, the acid in her stomach would have destroyed it to the point where Section would no longer be able to get a clear signal.

He quickly went through the room, and found the disk that he needed. Next, he went to the laptop, and uploaded the contents of the disk into an email. Section would have it soon.

He dialed Birkhoff on his cell phone.

The young computer guru confirmed he'd just received the file. He was downloading it now.

Ten minutes later, Michael was walking down the hall, away from the targets room.

***

"Querrida," Darren's voice said softly in her ear, "Wake up. We're landing."

Alexandra's eyes slid open, and she looked around for a moment. Then it registered what he had called her - Querrida. So we're back to that, she thought to herself, and smiled.

"What?" Darren asked gently, seeing her smile.

"I'll tell you later," She told him, sitting up and stretching, "How long did I sleep?"

"Four hours," Darren replied, keying up something on his panel.

Alexandra watched him for a few moments. His attention was totally focused on the upcoming mission. She could feel the tension in him.

"Did you sleep?" Alexandra asked him gently.

Darren shook his head, not looking at her.

She knew she shouldn't tease him, not here, not now. But she couldn't help herself.

"Then you should have woke me up four hours ago, we could have gone back to the -"

"Don't think that thought didn't cross my mind," Darren chuckled, looking over at her, a quick smile on his lips, but then his gaze went right back to the panel, "But we're at the mercy of the rumor mill, and we are both under the microscope."

"Especially when we're both on the same team. I'm not exactly Madeline's favorite person right now either . . . did you ask for me? Or did you just get me?"

"Nikita handled all of that. I lost 4 people, I got one of those 10 minute 'It's not your fault, don't let it get personal chats', and then she told me she would handle staffing. That was yesterday."

Alexandra nodded, "I don't know some of these people well."

"They know of you," Darren commented, still not looking at his panel, "I overheard some of them talking. The gist of it was that Nikita used to be Michael's 'partner'. Now that she's moved up the food chain - you've stepped into her shoes."

Alexandra's lip twitched, "Big shoes to fill. I don't come close."

"Perception is half the battle Red," Darren commented, "I think you do come pretty damn close."

Alexandra only nodded.

"What does Michael usually hand off to you?" Darren asked her, "Just so I know?"

Alexandra drew in a deep breath. Darren had slipped into team leader role with her.

"Sometimes he lets me call the shots - depending on the situation. If he's leading from the van, I lead from the field."

"I put Tony in my weak spots," Darren told her, "Tyrone - he's the big black guy with the shaved head and the small pony tail of corn curls - he tests everyone. He will tend to be a little protective of you - because you're a woman. If I put you with someone else, and you get hit, he'll likely try to tear apart whoever you were with. So you've got two choices. Male ego now or later."

"Put me where you need strong people Darren," Alexandra told him, "I can handle it either way."

Darren was quiet for a few moments, doing something on his panel, "I think . . . position three."

Alexandra pulled out her panel, and looked at her position that she'd just been assigned. Tony was Darren's point man. He'd been assigned appropriately. The position she'd been given was right in the middle. It was what she would have done, if she was making decisions. The remaining members of his team would be watching. She knew some of her reputation. Damn good - but obviously not in favor at the moment. They'd be watching, evaluating her - and therefore - Darren.

Politics at its best.

They plane landed with a few small bumps and jerks, and as it taxied to a stop, they started back to the belly, and into the van.

Kim was already linking up the satellite when Alexandra climbed in. She sat down in a seat off to one side of Kim.

"Weather looks to be cold - damn cold," Kim announced as the last person climbed in, "Hope you all packed your thermal undies."

Alexandra thought for a moment about their black clothing. In the wrong terrain, they'd stand out like sore thumbs.

Darren must have thought about that too. As the van pulled out, he kept an eye out the window.

"Remember folks, we need players alive from both sets," Darren announced.

"And don't shoot into the cargo," Tyrone's deep voice bellowed from the back of the van.

That earned a couple of snickers from everyone.

A little while later, they were fanning out along a ridge, taking cover in the shadows.

"Ok, boys and girls, its time for roll call," Kim announced after a moment, "Call 'em out. I'll let you know if you're signal needs to be adjusted."

"Tony thinks the scenery is lacking," Tony's voice announced through the comm units.

"Joe thinks it's too damn cold," a nervous voice announced.

Alexandra knew she was in third position, she was next. What to say?

"Alexandra wants a hot buttered rum," Alexandra announced.

"Kelly would settle for just the rum," another voice announced.

"Tyrone want to serve Alexandra that hot buttered rum on a warm beach."

That generated a couple snickers.

"Nick wants to watch," another voice announced.

"Bill can't think of anything cute to say."

"Nigel is suffering from serious shrinkage."

More snickers.

"Alan can't believe he just heard someone admit that."

"Darren thinks his Mexican tush shouldn't be subjected to these temperatures."

"Kim is reading plenty of testosterone out there. Think you can handle these boys Alex?" Kim's voice asked.

"Any day," Alexandra replied.

It was quiet for a few moments, "OK folks, you're all loud and clear - and no one else is out there. Hope you're all as comfortable as can be."

Quiet for a few more minutes.

"We didn't get this Intel from the same source as last time, did we?" Tyrone asked.

Darren drew in a deep breath, "I don't know. I don't always get that - especially when it's this last minute. Why?"

"I got me one of those bad feelings," Tyrone told him, "I didn't get to sacrifice any chickens this morning."

Alexandra grimaced.

"Hey - Alex -you got yourself one of those good luck Mexican dogs, right?" Tyrone asked.

"Yeah," Alexandra said.

"You do anything special for him before you go out on a mission?" Tyrone asked.

"A good snuggle, scratch between the ears and a few dog treats. He got his daily sacrifice this morning," Alexandra replied.

"You know something guys? It's almost too quiet out there," Kim announced, "No static or nothing. I always get static in Kosovo."

"The nearest major city is what - 5 kilometers away?" Darren asked.

"Yeah," Kim said, "And they've got plenty of stuff to cause interference - and they're lit up, so they should be making my life miserable right now."

"Hold formation, Tony - can you see the road on your end?"

"Yeah," Tony replied, "For miles."

"I got it on my side," Darren said, "Stay alert folks."

Alexandra looked up at the sky, all the stars. The last time she and Darren had been here - They'd had trouble getting a clear transmission. They'd listened to a lot of Nato transmissions. Why wasn't Kim getting them now?

"Nato is still babysitting this area, isn't it?" Alexandra asked.

"Yeah," Darren said.

"Remember how hard it was for us to get a good transmission?" Alexandra asked him.

"Yeah," Darren replied, "You thinking something?"

"Oh yeah," Alexandra said, "I'm -"

The sound of a low whoop whoop whoop whoop got everyone's attention.

"Kim?" Darren asked, "What is it, and where is it?"

"I'm not getting anything, but something outside sounds like a chopper."

"Get out, NOW!" Darren snapped, "Move! Everyone drop your comm gear Now!"

Alexandra ripped off her comm unit, dropping it onto the frozen earth next to her.

"Alex - retrieve Kim! Everyone else go North!" Darren yelled out at them.

Alexandra scrambled down the ridge, in the direction of the van. The chopper came up behind the van, launched something, and it exploded. The glow revealed Kim scrambling through the brush 25 yards away.

Alexandra ran full out in Kim's direction. Between the explosion and the flood lights, there was no way they weren't all exposed.

Kim saw Alexandra running towards her. The chopper overhead opened fire, spraying the ground with bullets. Alexandra dove and rolled through some straggly brush, and Kim scrambled into another patch of brush.

"Alex!" Kim yelled, dropping the laptop and yanking out the gun she'd shoved into her pants. She rolled onto into a sitting position, twisting left and right to see if there were any hostiles on the ground.

The chopper was turning, to make another pass. It let off a long round of shots at some of the cold ops scrambling north.

Two of them broke off from the group scrambling north, and dropped to the ground.

Alexandra slid on the frozen ground next to Kim, almost tripping over her.

"Are you hurt?" Alexandra gasped.

Just then, the something launched from where the two cold ops had dropped to the ground, and the chopper exploded in the air. A moment later, pieces of hit the ground between where Kim and Alexandra were, and the red of the team.

"I don't think so," Kim told her, grabbing up her cane, and pulling herself to her feet, "A few scrapes. Nothing bad."

Alexandra nodded, and picked up the lap top, "Where supposed to all head North."

Kim nodded. The two of them made a wide berth around the burning chopper, guns still drawn. It was five minutes later when they joined the rest of the team, down in a valley just beyond the ridge.

"They must have been able to tap into us somehow," Kim announced, "But how they did it is beyond me."

"I figured we were being monitored somehow - that's why I told everyone to drop their comm units. Not that it did us much good," Darren sighed, looking around, "Hell, at least I didn't lose anyone else this time."

"Nikita must just hate it when you have to tell her you lost another one of us," Tyrone snickered.

"Oh yeah," Darren groaned, "Shit . . . nearest city is 5 Kilometers that way - and we are in the dark and vulnerable. Lets start hoofing it folks."

Tony quietly walked over and took the laptop from Kim's hands.

"Are we going into mandatory refusal?" Alexandra asked Darren quietly.

"Yep," Darren told her, "First house we come across, we look at burglarizing for cloths and food."

Two hours later . . .

Alexandra pushed the window up slowly, quietly, and slowly climbed through. Darren followed her. Both of them remained still and waited for a moment, listening. They saw a man and two small children watching a TV in the front room, a woman doing dishes in the kitchen when they'd skirted the house before.

Alexandra crept up the stairs, looking for a bedroom. Darren was right behind her. They found what they were looking for right away.

Darren stayed at the door, listening, watching, while Alexandra rifled through the closets. She started to shove cloths into a bag, and then another bag. She returned to the door, and she and Darren crept down the stairs again.

They listened and waited until they could see the woman leaving the kitchen through the other doorway and go into the room where the man and the children were.

Alexandra quietly pulled the fridge open, and started to grab anything she could get her hand on, and drop it into the bag. Then it was a few items on the counter. A sound caught her attention, and she stepped back into the other room again, plastering herself against the wall.

The woman walked back into the kitchen again, got something from a cabinet, and then left the room again.

Alexandra and Darren slipped out of the window again, crept around the house, and headed back towards the small copse of trees where the rest of the team was waiting and hiding.

"Breaking and entering are just one of your many talents," Tony commented.

Alexandra laughed, "Funny huh? Considering I was a almost a cop!"

She handed one of the bags to Kim, "Food in this bag - this bag has clothing."

She started to pull out various shirts. Everyone had pulled their gear webbing off, and put it inside their jackets, instead of on the outside. They'd put regular clothing on over the thermal black suits they were wearing now.

They'd managed to cloth everyone, but they'd still have their coats on. There was no way they were going to give up their warm coats in this weather.

***

Kristie walked into Walter's station. Walter and Brianna were standing together, watching comm, and listening. Kristie had seen Nikita standing there, her hand over her eyes, Birkhoff's fingers flying over the keyboard.

"What's going on?" Kristie asked, directing her question to the grim looking pair that ran the munitions station. They both looked worried.

"The team in Kosovo might have been taken out," Walter said softly, his voice a little unsteady.

Kristie froze where she stood. That was Darren's team. Alexandra had been with him, along with Tony and Kim, and a half dozen other cold ops. Four of her closest friends . . . .

Something tugged at her pant leg, and Kristie looked down to see Pepe tugging at  the hem of her jeans with his teeth.

Kristie picked up the tiny dog, held him close to her heart. Pepe wasn't his usual wiggling ball of excitement and joy. He snuggled into her, and whimpered. She knew he was picking up on the mood of the people around him.

"There has to be something," Nikita snapped, "What is the satellite giving us?!"

Birkhoff shook his head, "One big explosion, right after the chopper came up on them. Then, nothing."

Nikita felt her stomach turn over. She felt nauseated. She ached inside. It hurt anytime she lost an operative. But some of the people on this team had been her closest friends . . .

"Why can't we find traces of them then?" Nikita demanded, "Shouldn't we be able to see their bodies as heat sources?"

"If they were still giving off any heat, yes. When a body drops below 90 degrees, we can't find it." Birkhoff said quietly, his fingers stalling over the keyboard for a moment, as the view from another satellite came up.

All they got were two large heat sources, a few small scattered heat sources. One by one, the smaller scattered heat sources started to fade, and blink out.

Kristie silently walked closer to comm, unable to believe what she was hearing. She watched as two more heat sources blinked out. She knew what that meant. The bodies were cooling off. The temperatures were in the 20's in Kosovo right now. Dead bodies cooled quickly in climates like that.

"Birkhoff, Nikita, report," Operations snapped over the intercom.

Birkhoff looked up at the glass tower, "The team was taken out. I can't find any evidence that they survived."

"What about the delivery?" Operations snapped.

Nikita felt anger and resentment ready to boil over. But deep down, she knew he had to worry about the mission the team had been on too.

"The delivery team and the pickup team never showed. Only whoever took out our people," Nikita told him, "Judging from the audio transmission and satellite recon, it looks like they were ambushed."

There was a deep, irritated sigh from Operations, "Birkhoff. The source in Kosovo. I want to know who it is, where they get their information. I want them checked out. Send a team from the Paris substation to check out the ambush site."

Kristie listened to all this, feeling her heart twisting painfully in her chest. Pepe must have sensed the depression in everyone. He was very still, occasionally whimpering a little. Kristie looked down at the tiny ball of tan fur and enormous brown eyes, and was suddenly grateful that Pepe was a dog, and not a child. You didn't have to explain death to dogs. Somehow, they just knew.

Michael heard the bad news within moments of walking back into the compound.  The first place he went - was Nikita's office. He knew she'd be the best source of information, and she'd be devastated.

He reached her door, and raised his hand to knock. Always trained to listen, Michael couldn't help but hear the sounds of retching on the other side of door. He didn't bother to knock. He just quietly slipped inside the door, and closed it behind him.

Nikita was bent over the garbage can, her arm propped up on one side of it, her head resting on her arm. She was on her knees on the floor.

"Kita," Michael said softly, squatting down next to her, "I just heard."

Nikita took a few deep steadying breaths, "I'm ok, it's just . . . been a rough day. Lunch didn't agree with me."

"It's ok to mourn the loss of friends," Michael said softly.

Nikita shook her head, "Not here it isn't! I don't know how you do it Michael! I don't know how you stay sane! I sent them to their deaths! I barrowed Alex from your staffing, because if they were going to be short people, I thought it would be better to send people who were really good - so we just lost Darren, Tony, Kim and Alex - along with 6 other cold ops. They were doing everything right. The targets didn't show, but someone else came at them from the air, and just wiped them out."

Michael felt numb inside. He cared about some of the people lost. They'd been friends. But death was inevitable here. The losses occurred often. But it didn't make it easier somehow.

"Some would say I'm not sane Nikita," Michael said softly, pulling her off the floor, and pushing her into her chair, "Do we know who took them out?"

"No, not yet," Nikita told him, "DRV has the contact information, but it turns out the contact was killed this morning."

"Who in DRV worked this one?" Michael asked her.

Nikita looked up at him, "Beth."

Michael didn't react. But his lack of reaction spoke volumes.

"Yeah, I thought so too," Nikita commented, "But it all checks out. Not that it wouldn't be easy to cover her tracks - since she knows the system."

***

"Kris?" Stephen called softly, letting himself into her apartment.

Kristie looked over her shoulder at him. She'd been sitting in the dark, watching the stars in appear in the night sky through her sliding glass doors that lead out to the balcony. Pepe was still snuggled into her chest. He showed no inclination to move.

"I'm here," She said quietly.

"You ok?" Stephen asked, "I heard the news, and you were already out of Section."

"I needed to think, without a thousand eye's staring at me," Kristie told him, "Anything new?"

"Nothing good. Beth was the DRV tech."

Kristie's head snapped up, "If she gave them up -"

Stephen cut her off, "It doesn't look like she did. The contact was found dead a few hours ago."

Kristie sighed, "Convenient. I wonder if I researched the missions Darren has had, that went bad, and cross matched them with the DRV techs - I wonder who's name would come up the most?"

Stephen sat down on the floor next to her, "What makes you say that?"

"Because she's been a pain in Darren's ass for weeks," Kristie snapped, "And I'm angry. I just lost some of my best friends, and I hate Section."

Stephen sighed, and pulled her into his arms. There was nothing he could say.

***

The morning turned the sky from midnight black to a dark gray. There were clouds in the sky. It was still desperately cold. They were all worried it was going to snow.

Kim's hip ached a little, but not bad. If Tony hadn't started her going to the gym, she'd be in phenomenal pain right now. As it was, the pain was tolerable.

They'd walked the 5 klicks to the city. They'd burglarized a house for food and clothing. They'd burglarized another house for money a few hours ago. Tony was watching her like a hawk. She knew he was worried about her blood sugar, but he'd stuffed her full of food a few hours ago. If anything, she'd felt a little lethargic, from eating too much.

They were on mandatory refusal. They couldn't get data from Section One. They knew who the sellers were, but that was it. They just had to find them.

The contact was supposed to be in the city. Kim would have to do a data search through bank records, utilities and such. That meant they needed a phone - or a computer hooked into the web. Darren would have to translate for her. Kim didn't speak the local language.

It was mid morning by the time they found a café with public Internet access. Darren sent everyone else out to pick pockets in the market. When he and Kim were done, he and Kim would drink a cup of coffee outside the shop, and they would all gather at the south end of the open market.

It took all of ten minutes to find out that their contact had been found dead yesterday morning. Kim started to research a few of the people they knew were the sellers. She found a relative. It had taken her a little over an hour and a half to come up with this.

She and Darren had the cup of coffee, then made their way to the meet point. Alexandra was just arriving as they were.

"What did we get?" Alexandra asked, looking at Darren expectantly.

"Our contact was waxed yesterday morning. We have a relative of one of the sellers. We'll get the sellers location, and go from there. What did everyone manage to collect.

They all gave up various numbers of cash they'd collected. No one kept anything else. It was too risky. They'd collected a fair sum of money, but they were limited in how they could use it. None of them had papers. If they were stopped, they had big problems.

They took public transportation to get to the other side of town. When they reached the apartment building she was in, the team took various positions on the street, inside the building, and in the hallway. They could call out to each other if the authorities arrived.

Alexandra was in the hallway. She could hear Darren and Tony talking to the woman, threatening her. She heard a few things get knocked around in the apartment. She could hear the woman crying then. Then there was silence. Darren and Tony walked out.  Both of them had grim expressions on their faces. Alexandra didn't ask. She knew they both hated whatever it was that they had to do. She almost offered to go in too - she knew she had a talent for being cold and ruthless - or at least faking it, detaching herself, but this was Darren's team. He had to do it.

They all gathered in the alleyway.

Darren held up car keys, "It's a sedan. The target is in a city to the north of here. We gotta steel another car to get us all there. The woman's husband will be home in 6 hours. That's how long we have until she can warn the target."

The team spread out in the parking area behind the building looking at the various cars, trying doors. One of them had the window busted out, and plastic had been used to serve as window in the mean time. That was the other car they chose to steal.

They hit the road nervously, watching the traffic around them carefully. If a cop tagged one of them, the other half of the team would keep going.

Alexandra waited until they were in the car, and it was just the four of them, Tony, Kim, herself, Darren, plus Bill.

"What did you do to that woman?" Alexandra asked him.

"Scare the living hell out of her. Taped her mouth shut, and taped her to her own bed," Darren replied. Operations will have my ass for leaving her alive, but at this point if we get out of this with any ass left intact, I'll be surprised."

Alexandra nodded, and turned her gaze back to the street, "It's not as bad as the last time we were here."

"When were you here last time?" Kim asked, from the back seat.

Alexandra's mouth twitched into something of a smile, "A few times. Once right after Nato moved peacekeeping troops in - that was that mission where we were totally dark - and no one knew where we were but Madeline and Operations.. Another time on a mission, in the spring - and we were here one time on Christmas eve - on a hit"

"That was a head trip," Darren sighed, remembering.

"Yeah, it was. I was looking down a sniper scope while we listened to Christmas music. Come all he faithful, joyful and triumphant, come ye oh come ye so I can blow your head off."

Kim grimaced, "Nice."

"I hate this job sometimes," Alexandra sighed, "Like these times. I've got a dog waiting for me to come home and bestow new dog chews on him for Christmas. I have gifts to pass out."

"What did you get me?" Tony asked her.

"You'll have to wait and see," Alexandra replied.

They were all quiet for a few moments.

"Section probably thinks we're dead you know," Kim pointed out.

Darren nodded, "I know. But whoever ambushed us has it figured out by now that we aren't. That's our problem. No support, and a target that knows we're coming."

"The group that's gonna bomb someone - do we know anything about them?" Alexandra asked.

"Only that they're going to target an American city - on Christmas."

"Guess that narrows them down to something other than Catholic," Tony commented.

"Intel suggests Islamic," Kim added, "You know - Section will send a housekeeping team. They may figure out we are not dead. They may now already."

Darren glanced back at him in the rear view mirror, "Are you hinting that we should contact Section?"

"No," Kim said, "In fact, the more I think about it, I think we should stay dark. This is your second mission where someone may have tipped our targets off. I'm wondering if we've got a problem inside Section."

Alexandra turned around in her seat to look at Kim, "Another leak? Like maybe Brian didn't tell me everyone?"

Kim drew in a deep breath, "Or a new traitor."

Alexandra turned her attention back to the road, "I really hate this job."

Kim found herself paired with Tony. It wasn't that they asked to be paired together, but Kim didn't speak the language, so leaving her alone wasn't an option. Darren usually put Tony on the weak spots. There was another cold op outside standing watch too. Kim knew he qualified as a weak spot, just as much as she did at the moment.

"I would kill for my own cloths," Kim sighed.

Tony didn't look at her, "How's your hip?"

"Sore," Kim replied, "And I stick out like a sore thumb. If anything goes wrong, I'm a liability to the team."

"Whatever you're about to say - just don't," Tony said slowly, carefully.

Kim sighed, and kept her eye's up and moving. She knew what was happening inside. Darren, Alexandra and Tyrone were securing the target. They'd work him over, and then they'd have to kill him. They couldn't get him to Section for questioning. They couldn't let him live to warn the terrorists so they could pick another city.

"Did you ever work with your relative, the one that was killed?" Kim asked him after a few minutes of silence.

"No," Tony sighed, "If I had, I would have known how to cover my tracks a little better."

Kim smiled a little, "You're lucky Section didn't put you on housekeeping staff."

Tony chuckled a little bit, "Yeah . . ."

Alexandra wasn't used to seeing Darren like this. She'd only seen him like this once, and it had frightened her. It was the day that she'd killed Anna, in front of him. She'd been afraid Darren was going to kill her. He'd almost strangled her.

She watched him draw his foot back, and viciously kick the target in the stomach again. Blood had sprayed from the targets nose and mouth a few times already. His arm was broken. He was a lot harder to break than his mother had been.

"Alex," Darren said sharply.

Alexandra doused the targets head with a bucket of cold water. She'd done that a twice now - when he'd started to pass out.

"He's not breaking man," Tyrone muttered in English, "We need someone else."

"We don't have anyone else," Darren snapped, and gestured for Tyrone to drag him back up into the chair.

Darren drew out a mean looking knife from his boot, and brandished it, "Take off his pants Tyrone. Alex, get me some of those sharp knives from the kitchen."

Darren and spoken the commands in the targets language. Both Tyrone and Alexandra looked at Darren, surprised.

"Now," Darren snapped, in the targets language.

Tyrone pulled out his own knife, and started to cut away the targets pants, shaking his head.

Alexandra came back from the small kitchenette with four small but sharp knives.

The target suddenly figured out what was about to happen. He started to scream names. Darren demanded locations, dates and times. The target only knew that the buyers were in Vancouver Canada, and that they were taking a boat into Washington State.

Darren pulled out his gun, and pressed a sofa cushion to the targets head. He shot the target through the cushion, to muffle the sound.

But it didn't muffle the spray from the exit wound.

Alexandra grimaced. Darren noticed her reaction, but didn't say anything. No one liked this part, but that wasn't her normal reaction.

Darren silently walked over to the sink and washes his hands, then wiped the blood off of his boots.

A phone call was made a few blocks away. Darren knew he was breaking huge rules. But he'd gotten as far as he could. At this point, there were no other options. They'd never get out of the country in time to get to Canada. They didn't have papers. It was a matter of time before they were caught.

They were told to report back to the place they'd arrived at. A retrieval team would meet them there. No time frame was given.

It took four hours to get back to the location their plane had left them at. Their pilot had left when the mission had gone bad. They knew they were supposed to wait in plain site. The retrieval team would take them in like targets.

While they waited, a mechanic was waiting outside a building, smoking a cigarette. Alexandra noticed. She couldn't  help but notice. She must have watched a little too much.

"Stop," Darren said irritably.

Alexandra glanced over at him, and bit back a nasty retort. His team, his mission, it had been a rough job. Madeline would grill the rest of the team about their interaction later on.

So Alexandra remained quiet.

"I thought you quit," Darren said quietly, "You didn't taste like you'd been smoking the other day."

Tony and Kim looked up, and over at them. Alexandra drew in a deep breath, "It's been a while."

"How long?" Darren asked her. His tone was still irritable.

"Hell, I don't know," Alexandra replied, "It's difficult to enjoy a cigarette when you and Michael are always taking the pack, and tossing it out the nearest window."

"Take the hint."

Alexandra sighed deeply, but remained silent. He was really testy. She carefully judged the distance between them, and the rest of the team. She leaned in close, about to tell him to back off, but then movement caught her eye.

The retrieval team had arrived.

"I think our ride is here," She said, instead.

They were taken at gunpoint. Searched and secured. It was standard procedure - until they could verify their identity.

It was a long trip to Paris. It took two long hours before they were satisfied they were who they said they were. They were given a chance to clean up, and then sent back to Section One.

***

Kristie had Pepe tucked into the crook of her arm as she walked onto the main floor of Section One.

"Have you put that dog down in the last three days?" Birkhoff asked as she passed by him.

Kristie stopped, "Yeah. He has to pee sometimes."

Birkhoff grimaced, "Thanks for sharing. You're gonna have to give him back though, turns out the team survived. Paris just verified their identities."

Kristie felt relief flood through her, she turned and looked around to see who else was there, who else knew.

But it was business as usual in Section One. The death of ten people had been taken as an everyday occurrence. Their survival was of no importance to anyone else but a handful of people. Kristie looked up at the glass observation deck, and saw Madeline and Operations looking down over their domain. Resentment boiled up within Kristie, but she held it in check. Now was not the time, nor the place.

"Is Nikita or Michael in?" Kristie asked Birkhoff.

"Nope - they're in Canada. Trying to catch the terrorists Darren's team missed," Birkhoff said, disinterestedly.

"Perk up Birkhoff, we only just found out that ten people weren't killed," Kristie reminded him.

Birkhoff looked up at her, "I know all about people getting killed and not getting killed Kristie. I don't need a lecture from a cold op."

Kristie took a deep breath, turned, and walked away. Birkhoff was still bitter over Gayle's death.

"You're about to be called up to go to Seattle too," Birkhoff told her, "As soon as Darren's team gets in, they're going out again."

Kristie was waiting by the van loading and unloading when Darren's team got back. Darren was the first one out, then Alexandra. When Alexandra saw Kristie - and Pepe, she pushed past Darren, scooped her dog out of Kristie's arms, and hugged him tightly to her. Pepe yipped and liked her face.

"Why don't I get a greeting like that?" Darren asked Tony, as they paused for a moment.

Alexandra didn't look up at him, "You're not quite the snuggler he is."

Kristie raised and eyebrow, and opened her mouth to say something, but then stopped.

"I thought you'd be missing this guy," Kristie told her, "And we've got a briefing in ten minutes."

Alexandra hooked her arm through  her friends, and kept Pepe snuggled into her side with her other arm, "Did I miss anything good?"

Kristie snorted, "Nothing good, but you missed some stuff. Pepe's been a good little boy. A little lethargic, but I think he was depressed."

Alexandra looked down at the tan ball of fur tucked into the crook of her arm. He didn't look depressed now. His tail was wagging furiously.

"That hasn't happened since you left," Kristie told him, "We were all bummed when we though the team was wiped out. I think he picked up on it."

Alexandra nodded, "He picks up on everything. I can't hide anything from him at all. Thank god he doesn't talk."

Darren followed behind Kristie and Alexandra, listening to the easy banter between the two women. An idea had come to him. He just didn't know how cooperative Kristie would be.

"Kim," Darren said, stopping them at the crux of the hallways, "Why don't you hit medical - get your hip checked out."

"I'm fine," Kim replied, "So is my blood sugar - thanks to you all force feeding me all through Kosovo.  Shoot the terrorist, feed Kim. Steel a car. Feed Kim."

Darren looked at Tony, giving him a 'Take care of this' look.

"What the hell is that?" Kim demanded.

Alexandra and Kristie were a good ten feet in front of them now, but stopped to turn and look.

Darren sighed, "Me attempting to be discreet. Do I have to order you to go to medical?"

Kim pushed her finger into his chest, "Order all you want. I'm not a cold op."

"Kim," Tony started.

"No," Kim snapped, "Mr. Personality here needs to back off. You think I like being reminded that I couldn't run when I needed to? You think I like being the one member of the team that can slow people down? Make this a little more obvious Darren, maybe they'll confine me to the station, or cancel me."

Kim pushed Darren back out of her way, and said in a quieter voice, "Take a hint - that's why Alex is happy to see the dog - after being with you for three days."

Kim strode away, her cane tapping angrily as she went, passing Alexandra and Kristie. Alexandra and Kristie resumed their walk, and started chatting again.

Darren looked at Tony.

"What are you looking at me for?" Tony asked him defensively.

"Have I been that much of an asshole?" Darren asked.

Tony drew in a deep breath, and opened his mouth. Nothing came out.

Darren shook his head, "Say no more."

"Don't try to make up with Kim for at least an hour. She'll need that long to calm down, trust me," Tony told him, "And I don't want to hear it."

***

An hour later, two teams were on the flight to Seattle. One terrorist had been caught. One cell made it through. They knew that bombing would be in one of two places. Section Three in Seattle was in over their heads. Michael's team and Nikita's team weren't sufficient to cover everything.

So Darren's team and Dante's team were on their way.

Alexandra came back to the area of seats that Kim and Kristie were occupying with her, carrying three water bottles.

"Kris, I think you're the only one who hasn't gotten into it with him. When is it your turn?" Alexandra said dryly, "I just walked by him, said hello, he just nods, and keeps at whatever he's working on. He's going off the deep end."

Kristie nodded, "Stephen says this is normal."

Alexandra sighed, "He scared me, when we were working on the terrorist in Kosovo. I know he can get violent - but he never enjoyed it before. I wasn't so sure this time."

Kristie sighed, "You did say both of you had changed an awful lot. The stress is getting to him."

Kim sighed, "I think it is."

* * *

She knew he had to do this. She knew Section would be watching. She ached inside for him. He hadn't sleep more than an two or three hours in the last 4 days. He was going on sheer force of will and terror. They all were. But they'd all been able to catch a little more sleep on the plane. But not Darren. Fear of mistakes was his lover these last few nights. Alexandra couldn't reach him anymore. She ached with the knowledge. She worried that she was watching him come apart at the seams.

Michael and Nikita had teams in Canada. If either one of them had been here, it would have been them doing this interrogation, and not Darren.

But Darren's team and Dante's team were in Seattle. They'd found one of the targets that was supposed to pick up the bombs someone else had delivered. It was a totally blind operation. The current Intel they had told them that the date the attack was supposed to take place was 24 hours away. They had 24 hours to find the other terrorists, and the bombs. 24 hours to stop a catastrophe.

Alexandra had just gotten them back into sections mainframe from the laptop. Kim was still out in the field the rest of the team, which was now being lead by Tony - while Darren worked on breaking the target.

Darren had the target tied down onto a chair. They didn't have the benefit of Madeline's drugs to work on this target. It would just be a matter of how much this guy could take.

Alexandra watched, from her side of the room, glancing from Darren, to her computer screen. She felt numb, listening the sound of flesh hitting flesh. The grunts of pain coming from the target. The questions Darren asked went unanswered. The target simply started chanting a prayer to Allah. Darren attacked this right away. Alexandra felt her stomach twist. This wasn't the Darren she knew. But she knew why he did it. She knew he wouldn't have done this under normal circumstances. Lives were at stake here.

Darren punched him. Kicked him when the target was on the floor. When he passed out, Darren tossed a bucket of cold water on him.

There was blood on the floor, all over the target. On Darren's shoes, on his hands. He stopped for a moment, wiping his hands on a towel. He picked up a knife, and told the target he was about to be castrated, without the benefit of anesthesia.

Alexandra kept her face masked. She didn't want to be here for this.

The target started to pass out. Darren swore vividly, and grabbed the bucket, and started towards the bathroom for more cold water.

"He's gonna die," Alexandra said softly, as Darren passed her.

"Oh yes," Darren snapped, "Painfully."

"Yes, and before you get any information out of -"

Suddenly, the whole room shook. The whole building shook. The loudest rumbling Alexandra had ever heard assaulted her senses. She knew immediately what it was. Terror gripped her as she dove for the doorway, hoping the frame of the door would hold. Darren was right with her, his arms yanking her against his hard chest, slamming them into one side of the doorframe. Alexandra knew he was trying to shelter her. Some things would never change.

The rumbling continued on for several moments. It seemed so long. In reality it went on for almost a full minute. They clung to each other, so tight it was hard to breath. Then, the rumbling stopped. They only thing they heard now were screams, and crying. They both looked up, and around. The target was still on the floor, tied to the chair. The room was intact - for the most part. Glass from the window lay on the floor, shattered during the explosion.

They both quickly moved to the window, to look out. Kim's voice was heard over their comm units, asking them their status.

"We're ok," Darren barked, "What about the team?"

"We're all accounted for - I haven't gotten the location of what was hit yet," Kim's voice told them.

Alexandra and Darren both leaned out the window. Alexandra felt a piece of glass cut into her hand, but it seemed small - hardly noticeable in comparison to what she saw before her.

The building had been a block away. Now, it was a pile of rubble. Floor after floor had disintegrated. Flames were roaring up in one particular spot. The building on either side of it had huge chunks of it missing. The street in front of it was buckled and broken.

The first sounds of sirens could now be heard. The destruction was 4 blocks away.

"Alex," Darren said, his voice had a hard edge to it. It had been that way for days, "What building is that?"

Alexandra almost gagged on her words, "The Children's hospital! The bastards bombed the Children's hospital!"

With that, Alexandra felt her stomach turn over, and she groaned, clutching her stomach, and turned away.

Darren saw her movements, caught her as she swayed, saw blood oozing out from her hand. He eased her onto the floor, pulling her hand back. How had she been wounded? He'd tried to cover her with his own body . . .

"Alex!" Darren snapped at her, yanking her hand out.

There was a piece of glass imbedded into the palm of her hand. Darren carefully pulled it out, watching it to make sure he wasn't going to cut any more of her hand. He knew how it had happened now. With the horror in front of them, she hadn't paid any attention to her hand, or any pain.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, sighing in resignation.

She shook her head, "Just suddenly nauseated . . . a hospital Darren . . . they hit a hospital!"

"A day early too," Darren answered her, and looked back at their target, the one he'd been beating the hell out of, trying to get him to talk. No wonder the bastard had such phenomenal resolve. He knew he only had to hold on a little longer.

"Stay still," Darren said to her, and he moved over to the target, and felt his neck for a pulse. Nothing. No pulse. He wasn't breathing. Darren felt nausea hit him hard. He'd killed a man, beat him to death - for nothing. Nothing had been accomplished.

Darren gagged, but nothing came up. He hadn't eaten in the last 24 hours. There hadn't been time. He felt Alexandra pull him back from the body, and the two of them just clung to each other on the floor for a few moments. This was rock bottom. This was the worst feeling they'd ever felt. All the years of training, the pain, the suffering, the emotional wounds to the soul that had laid deep thick scars to never ever be healed - all for nothing.

Darren pulled them up from the floor, and walked over to the laptop. They'd lost their connection to Section. He pulled out his cell phone, and dialed a number.

Alexandra stood by the window, listening to Darren bringing someone up to speed on the nightmare now presented to them. While she stood there, she watched ambulances and fire trucks trying to get close to the destroyed building. The screams rose up into the air like sharp razor blades to cut into her soul. They'd failed. All those people had paid such a horrible price.

She heard Darren get off the phone, and then heard his voice behind her, and through the comm unit.

It was Tony's voice that came over the comm unit, "Darren! We just found the bastards! We're moving back to transport now."

Darren drew a deep breath, "Take them to the plane. Alexandra and I will be there soon. We have to wait for housekeeping. I'll inform Section we do have come live targets."

It was 15 minutes later that housekeeping arrived, carrying two large suitcases. Darren and Alexandra silently left the room behind, pulling on their coats, their bodies numb as they walked out of the cheap hotel, onto the street.

The street was completely blocked and clogged with emergency service vehicles. People were running everywhere, in every direction. They walked for 12 blocks before they were able to hail a cab, and head towards the airstrip.

"Hey! Did you hear about the bombing?!" The cab driver babbled at them, "Fucking bastards hit the god damn children's hospital!"

Darren drew in a deep breath, "Yeah, we heard."

Alexandra felt Darren's arm tighten around her shoulders, and they gazed out the windows, seeing all the Christmas decorations lighting up the city streets. It was Christmas Eve.

***

Michael was waiting for them when they returned, with several 'guards'.

"Operations is waiting. They'll take the prisoners to be processed," Michael told Darren, while the rest of the team poured out of the van.

Alexandra caught Michael's gaze on her for a moment. He'd ask her questions later. She continued with the rest of the team onto debrief.

Operations was livid. He didn't cast blame on anyone in particular. Their Intel had been wrong, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that a hospital had been destroyed, on Christmas Eve - and it was a children's hospital. The entire country was outraged. The entire western world was outraged. They wanted answers, and someone to hold accountable.

They were put on closed quarters standby, pending Madeline's interrogation of the targets. Nikita had followed Darren out of debrief, followed him as he immediately headed towards the observation room where he could view the interrogation. Nikita waited until he'd reached the door.

"You should sleep," Nikita said gently, crossing her arms, standing face to face with her protégé.

Darren looked down at the beautiful blonde operative, whom he'd known for years, trusted for years.

"I can't sleep now Nikita," Darren replied.

Nikita smiled up at him, indulgently, "I'm sure if you laid down for five minutes, you'd fall asleep immediately. When was the last time you slept?"

He took a deep breath. He couldn't remember, not for certain.

"Exactly," Nikita replied, "When we get the Intel we need, we'll need everyone at 100. None of us are there right now. You have to get some sleep."

Alexandra came around the corner then, stopping a few feet from them, "I uh . . . I was gonna see if you wanted Pepe for the night - or nap, as it is."

Darren looked from Nikita, to Alexandra, and Chihuahua who was franticly wagging his tail at him. This was one fight he couldn't, and didn't want to win.

"Ok," Darren said, and moved towards Alexandra.

Nikita turned down the hall, heading for Michael's office.

Darren stopped in front of Alexandra, his eyes intent on her face, "You would give me Pepe now too, wouldn't you."

Alexandra nodded, not saying anything.

Darren brushed his fingers across her cheek, "What I really want is to be able to take you home with me . . ."

Alexandra grinned, "But then we wouldn't get any sleep."

"Oh we'd sleep, because I'm so tired it would be pretty fast," Darren murmured, "You take Pepe. I might roll over on him and squish him."

Alexandra knew that Darren wouldn't do that, she knew Pepe would raise a fuss and wake him. But She knew Darren would never take Pepe when Alexandra was around. He'd given the dog to her.

They both started down the hall, silent and resolute. There would be a few hours to sleep, and then they'd return to hell.

***

Kim ached all over - especially her hip. She'd seen the orthopedic doctor - Tony called him the bone doctor. There wasn't anything wrong with her joint - nothing that hadn't been there before. The calcification was the same. The muscles were swollen and bruised though. That was the source of her pain. When this was all over, she was going to step up her workouts with the physical therapist.

She'd slept in her chair on the plane on the way back. But that had only been 5 hours. When she looked at her bedside clock here in Section, she calculated she'd slept another 6 hours. She sat up, threw back the blanket and grabbed her cane for the few short steps to the small shower stall.

Hot steaming water flowed out of the showerhead a moment later. She adjusted it to just the right temperature, and then stepped inside, leaving her cane against the wall out side.

While she showered, she had time to reflect on the hellish week. They'd been sent to Kosovo, where the mission had been blown. They'd gone into mandatory refusal. Two days later, they'd contacted Section with the Intel they needed. Then they'd come back, retrieved more gear, and then bent sent back out, this time to Seattle. The bombs had gone off earlier than what they'd thought they would. It wasn't that they'd taken their time trying to find out who, what, and where - they hadn't. But once again, their Intel had been wrong.

Kim was really starting to wonder about the source of that Intel. The question was, how did she start to check it out, without being too obvious.

She stepped out of her shower, dried off, dressed, and headed towards comm. She'd pick Birkhoff brain. He'd been in the dumps for weeks - a few months actually. Maybe a huge secretive project like this would pull him out of his self-imposed isolation.

***

Michael awoke first. It could have been a sound from the hallway. He wasn't sure, and it didn't matter - not really. Nikita was beside him, or on him, depending on how one chose to look at it. She had an arm over his chest, her leg over his thighs, her head resting on his shoulder. He could smell her shampoo. Strawberries . . .

The didn't normally sleep together in Section. They didn't sleep in section at all hardly. When they had to, the other was usually out on another mission. This particular time, they'd just needed sleep, and the healing comfort of one another arms. A few hours of safe, warm nothingness, the comfort of a warm body, a specific warm body to curl up with.

Michael turned his head slightly to look at the clock. Six hours. They'd been asleep six hours. He hadn't expected that they'd have that much time. He was loath to wake Nikita. Perhaps he would just stay still a while longer . . .

The date suddenly hit Michael like a ton of bricks. It was Christmas. Christmas morning! They should have been home, waking up to the hot coffee and the smells of fresh baked bread, greeting the morning in front of their Christmas tree. Michael almost groaned. Oh god, their tree! It would be dry as a bone by the time they got back to it. There would be needles all over the carpet. Their first Christmas in their home together - their first Christmas where they could admit to being married - and they'd spent it on a singlewide cot inside Section One. It was pathetic.

***

Kim pushed the door to her Section quarters open, and almost walked right into Tony. He stood there, with two cups of coffee in his hands.

"I missed you," he sighed, "We better catch these bastards so we can sleep at home, in our own bed."

Kim smiled. She smiled because of his reasoning, because he's used the term "our". Somewhere along the line, they'd moved from that point of being a couple, to one of those couples that just never would be apart. It was a decided thing - like being married. He didn't differentiate her apartment from his. Both places were "their  home".

Kim took the cup of coffee, and sipped it, "Merry Christmas Tony."

He leaned in to brush a quick kiss on her lips, "Merry Christmas Kim."

She sighed deeply, "I was just about to do some snooping - feel like joining me?"

***

Kristie walked into the gym, and found Alexandra climbing away on a Stairmaster. She chose a machine next to the redhead, and started her own work out.

"You left him still asleep, didn't you?" Alexandra asked her, grinning.

"Oh yeah," Kristie sighed, "Sex or sleep . . . hard choice last night . . . so we compromised. A little of both."

"I slept solo. Darren was exhausted, and he needed to really really rest," Alexandra replied.

"He's started to fray at the edges," Kristie commented, "Though I am told that's normal for new team leaders."

Alexandra grimaced, "I don't even know him half the time anymore Kris - I watched him beat that target, to get him to talk - and I almost couldn't believe it was Darren. There was a time when he never could have done it."

"You know the drill here Alex, do or die. Adapt or become extinct," Kristie reminded her, "I distinctly remember you telling me something similar once."

"Only because you're as hard headed as me," Alexandra laughed, "I know all this. . . I know that when he has time to think, he's gonna start comparing himself to his father. That's what scares me the most."

"As long as he doesn't take half a jar of anabuse and chase it with a bottle of tequila, he should be fine," Kristie replied, "He's not his father. He'll see that soon enough."

"I offered Pepe to him for the night, he didn't take him," Alexandra told her.

Kristie laughed, "The cure for all ailments? A Chihuahua? Though there is something about having a pet to curl up with . . ."

She fell silent for a moment, remembering her own dogs, the ones she'd had to leave behind. She missed them terribly.

Alexandra must have known what she was thinking, because she reached over, and squeezed Kristie's arm gently.

It was then that a level 1 Operative came in, and informed them that a briefing was going to start in half an hour.

***

He looks tired, Nikita thought to herself as Darren walked in. He'd was clean, his clothing neat, but he had circles under his eyes. He'd pulled his hair back into a ponytail, and today it looked severe.

Michael stood next to her. Nikita looked over at him, and saw that his eye's had settled on Darren as well. Sometimes Nikita forgot that Darren had once been Michael's material.

There were many other Operatives that had gathered in the room. Several teams in fact. There would be three level 5 cold ops leading teams in tandem on this one. That didn't happen to often.

Alexandra and Kristie walked in together, both of them sporting wet hair, obviously having just come from the shower.

"Dear god, they're both still wet!" Ryan joked, "You should have called me, I'd have held the camera!"

As if they coordinated it, both Kristie and Alexandra flipped him the bird, and picked out a spot on a the wall to lean on. Darren had immediately turned and sent Ryan a scathing look.

"What?" Ryan snapped, his voice petchulent, "They promote the guy to Level 4, and he loses his sense of humor."

"It's called professionalism," Darren said calmly, "Granted none of us applied for this job, but there's no reason to act like street trash."

"You trying to insult me or something?!" Ryan snapped.

Everyone watching somehow knew Darren's temper was reaching the breaking point. It was as if the air itself around him went up a degree.

Nikita opened her mouth, but she felt Michael's hand touch hers. The message was clear. Let Darren fight his own battles.

"Grow up," Darren said calmly, more calmly than he felt, "You want a fight - we'll sell tickets - after this mission is over."

"You're on," Ryan snarled.

Nikita looked at Michael. That was not the outcome she had in mind. But at least the argument was over, for the moment.

Kristie leaned over and said quietly to Alex, "My money is on Darren."

"Ditto," Alexandra replied, "We could start a pool . . ."

Operations walked in, grabbed up the remote, and a map, and two pictures appeared.

"Achmed Rasham," Operations began, "The leader of this particular cell that continues to evade us. He used a local family in Seattle to get into the children's hospital, and plant the bomb. The family seemed to be under the impression that just the MRI area would be taken out, not the entire hospital. The child was checked out of the hospital three hours prior to the bombing. He used forged documents to enter the country, and to leave. We have the forger, and now we have the names he's using. He landed in Cuba two hours ago. Intel has him there for three more days. But there is one more target in Washington State."

Operations hit something else on the remote, the images changed. Alexandra, Kristie and Kim all immediately recognized Hanford, a nuclear power plant.

"Hanford, a nuclear power plant. The bombs have been planted, a specialist team will be searching the facility. Team 3 & 4 will seal off the area - no one goes in, anyone coming out will be detained until we have positive - correct - identification. Teams 1 & 2 will go to Cuba and take Rasham. The detail will be on your panels."

***

Nikita moved silently down the hall. This had to be a quiet abduction. There were two many guards, an army available to be called up at any given moment. She was dressed in the appropriate attire of housekeeping, and when she reached the door, she quietly let herself in, Michael a step behind her.

The target was in bed. He instantly awoke, jerked to one side, reaching for a weapon. Nikita fired off two rounds of tranques, both of them hitting him dead center in the chest. He collapsed almost instantly.

Michael hefted his body into the laundry cart, and pulled the sheets back over him. They moved back out into the hallway, and back towards the utility elevator.

***

"You're just gonna shit when you hear this," Tony said quietly, sitting down next to Darren on the plane.

Darren sighed, "Now what?"

Darren was exhausted, irritably, and he'd reached his tolerance point for anything and everything. The bomb squad took 12 hours to search the facility. No one tried to get in, but detaining the people coming out had been a nightmare.

"Some of the ops were talking about starting a pool," Tony told him, "So I of course, being Italian, had to take the reigns. Right now your slightly favored, I figure 55."

Darren looked over at him, "Christ? Ryan's taking me seriously?"

"You said something like "we'll sell tickets", did you expect him to back down after that?" Tony asked him.

Darren groaned, "Shit . . . we don't need this. I don't need this!"

"I think we all really need this. That little shit - well, he's not really a little shit, but he is a shit - and he needs a good beating," Tony told him, "Besides, everyone's mood is up a little now."

Darren grimaced, "Glad I could help."

"If you really want to help - win. I bet 100 bucks on you," Tony told him.

Darren's head snapped around, looking at him, "Jesus Tony! What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Nothing, I just like to gamble is all. Now, in the whole spirit of keeping this friendly, we're putting this fight off until tomorrow, so everyone gets good nights sleep."

Darren groaned, "Operations is gonna send us all someplace shitty over this. Nikita's gonna blister my ears, and beat up on me after the fact."

"Relax, we're keeping this real quiet like," Tony told him.

***

The picked one of the padded wrestling rooms with an observation deck looking down on the two opponents. Tony collected bets by the door, while Kim quickly recorded them on a laptop. Several people were there when Alexandra walked in, and placed her 100-dollar bet. Kristie and Stephen were there. Walter and Brianna. Several of Darren's team members walked in, all of them betting in his favor. Alexandra was glad Darren wasn't watching this. If he lost, it would be mortifying. If he won, she'd tell him. She figured he win though. Ryan was good, but Darren was better, and Darren was in one of those moods lately . . .

Nikita walked in, trailing Michael behind her. Both of them put 100 bucks on Darren. A few more people came in, and put their money on Ryan.

Just as Tony was reaching for the intercom button to start the fight, the door flew open, and Birkhoff handed him 100 bucks.

"I still think this is pathetic," Birkhoff told him, "I'll watch from comm. I've got other stuff to do."

Tony reached for the intercom button.

"He better win," Alexandra said quietly, leaning over to whisper in Kristie's ear, "Otherwise, he's gonna be even more moody than before."

***

They both walked in, Darren just slightly ahead of Ryan. Ryan took advantage of Darren's back being turned, just temporarily. He fought dirty, he fought to win. There were no rules in his mind.

He went for the kidneys.

Darren must have sensed something, and he shifted just in time. Ryan's jabb was off. It hurt, but it wasn't disable ling.

Darren immediately blocked, and punched. Ryan blocked, and kicked. Darren sidestepped. The went back and forth, landing occasional punches, and kicks. Ryan started to taunt Darren with comments about Alexandra, and the time Darren had slept with Kristie on the mission. He did it to make Darren loose his temper, lose control. Instead, Darren became even more controlled. Punch, block, Kick, block, punch, punch, block, kick, punch, block, block. Back and forth they went. They were both starting to get tired, and it started to become obvious that Darren was gaining the upper hand. Ryan started to get desperate, and resorted to comments again.

Darren feigned a punch to the head, but swept with his foot instead. Ryan's feet flew out form under him. Darren leapt before Ryan ever hit the ground, pouncing on him, pinning him, and holding him down.

"Give," Darren panted, "I'm tired, you're tired, and we've both made our point."

"Fuck you!" Ryan snarled, bucking under Darren's weight, "Fucking fat Mexican!"

Darren laughed, "Come one Ryan, you can't move me, we both know it. Give."

"Fuck you, both those bitches!" Ryan snarled, still squirming.

"In your dreams!" Darren hissed in his ear, and reached for Ryan's neck. He'd compress the artery, make him pass out.

Ryan thrashed, but then started to go slack. Darren let go. Ryan's breathing became slower, more even. He didn't move.

Darren made sure he still had a pulse, then got up and walked out. He heard people cheering and jeering in the hallway above, but he didn't stop, just headed for his quarters for a shower.

It was during his shower, that he heard his door open. A moment later, Pepe stuck his head under the curtain, and looked at him.

"You will never learn," Darren said, scooping up the little dog.

Pepe yipped in indignation as Darren held him up in the shower stream. He started to scrub shampoo into his fur. Pepe whined. Darren rinsed him off, and let him out of the shower. Let Alexandra deal with drying him.

He heard a cabinet being opened. She was getting a towel.

He finished up his own shower, and looked out, before stepping out. No telling who else walked in with her.

But it was just Alexandra, waving a handful of money at him.

"How much did you make?" Darren asked.

"I'm 80 bucks ahead," She told him, "The losers money was divided up in proportion to the winners bets. The betting was pretty close."

"Good," Darren sighed, "I think."

"Half of Section was there," Alexandra told him, "Your entire team bet in your favor. So did Michael and Nikita, Walter, Brianna, Birkhoff, Marc even sent someone up with some money in you favor - and speaking of which, he wants to see you."

Darren shook his head, "I'm fine."

He pulled out a pair of boxer shorts, and started to dress.

"He did give you a good beating," Alexandra reminded him, taking in all the bruises to his torso, a few on his face, and one on his leg, "I thought he had you in the balls that one time."

Darren laughed, "So did I. I'm fine. I'm not so pretty right now, but I'm fine."

"Then let Marc check you out," Alexandra told him, "He checked Ryan out. Ryan has a busted rib."

"Just one?" Darren asked, "Pity."

Alexandra laughed, "That sweep was the clincher."

"I remembered that was how you ended things - often."

"Come on - just let him check you out, and we'll all go out to dinner."

Darren stopped in front of the mirror, "Guess I don't have to worry about Marc checking me out. I look like I was run over."

Alexandra walked over, and dropped down a little, and ran her tongue from the waistband of his boxers, up his stomach, then his chest, to his collarbone, "I still think you're the hottest thing that walks."

Darren groaned, "If you do that again, I'll do anything you want."

"Deal - tonight, after you go see Dr. Marc."

***

"Oh MMMAARRCC!" Alexandra called out, as she pulled Darren into medlab, "I brought you a present!"

Darren grimaced. He hated how familiar Alexandra was with him. He wasn't totally convinced the man was immune to her.

Marc came out from a little cubicle, "Ah yes, the other fighter. Thanks for winning by the way."

Darren managed a half smile.

"Ok, lose the shirt, and the pants. Leave your boxers on," Dr. Marc told him, pulling a privacy curtain closed around them.

Darren was afraid to ask how Mark knew he wore boxers. But he held his tongue, stripped off his cloths, and sat down on the gurney.

Marc felt along all the colored areas, feeling for anything to indicate broken bone, or internal bleeding.

"Hey, hands off the merchandise there doc," Alexandra teased.

Marc laughed, "Stick him in a bra Alex, and I won't give him a second glance."

"I don't always where a bra, and you don't give me a second glance," Alexandra teased back.

"Alex," Marc said, satisfied that there was nothing more than bruises, "I'm trying to be professional here."

Darren reached for his pants, "You really are gay, aren't you."

"I hope that's not a problem," Marc said, his voice a little edgy.

"Nope," Darren told him, pulling on his shirt, "Am I good to go?"

"Yes," Marc told him, "I'd recommend over the counter ibuproferin for any pain."