Written with One Lobo
NC-17

"Eric Wilde," Operations began as a picture appeared up on the holo screen, "Ladies man, some drug dealing, some insider trading, all irritating things in the grand scheme of things. Four months ago he started to deal in chemical weapons. We need to find out who's supplying him."

Alexandra felt her heart stop in her chest. He'd aged well. He was leaner than she remembered, and he had that elegant appearance to him still. Baby blue eyes, his dark blond hair was cut short, the ends were bleached out to a lighter color, and messily pulled up into haphazard spikes. Small gold earrings hung from his ears. He had a short trimmed mustache and goatee, just like Darren.  In the picture, she could see the shoulders and upper chest of an expensive suit jacket.

She knew without a doubt that Madeline was aware that Alexandra knew this man. She'd purposely not told her, in order to assess her reactions.

Operations went on to a brief overview of the mission. She would infiltrate his organization as a contract money launderer, find out whom his connections were, and get the Intel for section to take out the whole network. Michael would monitor the mission from Section.

When the briefing was over, Alexandra had made her decision. She had to appear confident, even if she wasn't. Madeline would look for any sign of weakness. Of course, Madeline could take anything as a sign of weakness . . .

"He's aged well," Alexandra commented, looking at Madeline with an amused look pasted on her features.

"How many years has it been?" Madeline asked her.

Michael turned to look at Alexandra, suddenly aware that he had not been given important information.

"A little over 6. He's been busy," Alexandra commented.

"Yes, he has. It should be interesting to see his reaction to finding you alive and well," Madeline told her.

Alexandra smiled, "That it should. What explanation do you want me to give him for my obvious state of well being?"

"You made some friends before you went to prison," Madeline told her, "and arranged for it to look like you committed suicide, smuggled yourself out of prison."

The room had emptied out. Madeline turned on her heel, and left the room in step with Operations. Michael looked at Alexandra, and then turned towards the door obviously expecting her to follow, neither one of them spoke until they reached Michael's office.

"Tell me about Eric Wilde," Michael said, after he'd initiated the security sequence on his keypad.

Alexandra flopped down on the sofa on the far side of Michael's office.

"The Eric Wilde I knew lived up to his name - Wild. I knew him because we grew up in the same neighborhood - and we both spent a lot of time away from our unhappy homes. In High School he ran small scams, some small time pot dealing. He never seemed to get caught - whenever someone rousted him, he never had anything on him. He knew how to work a mark even then."

Michael watched her facial expressions as she spoke. Wistful, somehow it seemed she remembered it rather fondly.

"Is your past going to be a problem?" Michael asked her.

Alexandra shook her head, "No, it won't. Unless my background story about why I'm still alive and kicking falls apart."

"It won't," Michael assured her.

Nikita had on an ice pink slip-dress that just barely covered her butt. There was no way she could possibly bend over. Her look was completed with high stiletto heels, frosty makeup, and her hair piled up into a messy mass on top of her head. Her gun was in her purse. There was no way she could possibly hide it anywhere on her person.

Her gaze swept the club. She saw Darren, dressed in snug slacks, and a snug silk shirt, several of the top buttons undone. He leaned up against the bar, ignoring a brunette desperately trying to get him to notice her.

"God, he looks so arrogant," Kim laughed, glancing over at Nikita. She knew Nikita would know whom they were talking about.

"Yeah, but it keeps the problems at bay," Nikita said, "And he can be."

"It's a talent," Darren replied, knowing they'd hear over the comm unit.

Kim was dressed in a black dress, similar to Nikita's. Short, tight, leaving very little to the imagination. Her hair had been swept back and secured with a chopstick.

She and Nikita were playing the part of courier's. The target would ask to meet them in back; he'd pass the disk to them there.

Only, they weren't really the courier's he thought they were.

"Our boy is in the building," Dante announced, "Red Jacket - looking like a Miami Vice reject."

Kim and Nikita casually turned to look. Kim groaned softly.

"I thought the Miami Vice look was pastels and black," Kim teased Dante.

"I guess that makes you and Kita the rejects," Dante teased her back, "Except, no man in his right mind would reject either on of you."

"Unless he knew who they were married to and dating," Darren joined in.

The target walked by them, and purposely looked from them to the back of the club. Nikita and Kim followed.

They walked through a door into the backroom, a second man falling in behind them. Both Nikita and Kim heard Darren, Dante, and several other team members start to shift their positions. There wasn't supposed to be a second person in meet.

"Who's this?" Nikita asked, as they were walking through the door.

"We got a message for your boss," a third voice said.

Nikita barely had time to register the presence of the third person when they lunged at her, knocking her off her feet, slamming her into a metal cabinet. She heard a dull pop from her shoulder, followed with intense pain, her arm going limp.

Kim danced to the side, taking out the man who was walking in behind them, dropping him to the floor, the side of her hand slamming into his throat. He went down, clutching his throat, gasping for air. She'd crushed his larynx. Her hand was already on her gun, the first shot going into the man who'd attacked Nikita, the second shot taking out a knee on the man who'd lead them back her.

He dropped to the floor, howling in pain.

Outside, both Nikita and Kim could hear the club going insane at the sound of gunshots.

"Bring the van around back!" Nikita barked into her comm unit, "We'll bring the target in with us."

Nikita was just pulling herself up off the floor. Kim pulled her up, under her good arm.

"Broken?" Kim asked her, her tone of voice telling Nikita she was keyed up - somewhere between afraid and pissed.

"I don't know," Nikita told her, her own voice betraying the pain she felt, "Maybe just dislocated. Go out the back, bring back in two of the guys to carry this loser out."

Kim nodded, and headed for the back door - darting between panicking, running hysterical people. But at least now - she could dart between them.

Alexandra was a little surprised when she got her suitcase of cloths that went along with her cover. Short skirts, crop tops, snug little t-shirts, a waist length leather jacket. The only thing that wasn't there, were a pair of thigh high leather boots. But it was summer, and very hot. At least Madeline had opted for sandals instead.

Alexandra stripped of her own clothing, and put on a full short pleated skirt, and then a button up shirt - which she didn't button, but instead rolled the ends up, and tied halter top style just under her breasts. No bra of course, and a pair of sandals. She closed up the suitcase, and handed it over to Wardrobe. They'd deliver it to van loading.

Just as Alexandra was walking down the steps, back to the main floor, Nikita's team was returning. Alexandra watched as two of the men on her team dragged the target to one of the white rooms. Nikita had her arm in a sling, her hair was mussed, and part of her dress had been torn. Kim walked with her, looking like she was on top of the world. Alexandra smiled a little. Kim probably did feel on top of the world, being able to walk again, without the cane.

"Hey, what happened?" Alexandra asked.

Nikita had just staggered in her walk, seeing the way Alexandra was dressed. It was suddenly like looking at Alexandra months ago - a year ago - defiant, flippant, and dressed up like she felt - cheep.

"I got knocked around a little," Nikita said slowly, "What's with the outfit?"

Just then, Darren and Dante came onto the main floor, from the hallway.

"I've got a mission on the pad," Alexandra told her.

"What's your role?" Darren asked, taking in her out fit. He felt himself reacting - even now with an audience. There she stood, with more flesh showing than she had in months. A thousand memories slammed into him. He wondered if she had a pair of thigh high boots. He kind of missed those boots.

"Money laundering - Madeline packed for me - I don't think I look like the type, but it's her profile."

Nikita nodded slowly, "Be careful."

"Always," Alexandra replied, "Follow your own advice next time."

Nikita managed something between a groan and a laugh, and continued on towards Medlab. Darren hesitated, and then turned to follow Alexandra into munitions.

"Alex," Darren said softly, sliding his hands around her waist, his fingers stroking her flesh as he moved up against her back, "Your target - is money laundering all you have to do?"

Just then, Walter walked out from the back, "Hey - cute skirt."

Darren looked over at him, "Skirt? The skirt is the first thing you see?"

"It's all I'll admit too when you're standing there," Walter told him, "You here for your gear?"

"Yeah," Alexandra told him, leaning back into Darren, "Should be a small 9 mm, a set of glasses, and a hand held PC."

"I've got it all but the PC," Walter told her, "That, and some of my other new toys, are down stairs. Hang out, I'll be back I about ten."

With that, Walter started out of Munitions.

Alexandra sighed deeply, "I'm going out, and you're coming in . . . we need more people Darren - especially when we're doing so much cover work."

Darren nodded, and pressed a kiss to her neck, his eye's sliding down the front of her open blouse.

"Let's go back here," Darren whispered, pushing her back around one of the walls.

As soon as they were out of sight, Darren spun her around, and his mouth came down hard on hers. Alexandra kissed him back hungrily, her hand sliding up his chest, over the thin silk shirt. Darren pulled his mouth from hers, and started to kiss a path down between her breasts, pulling one of the shirts flaps aside, exposing her breast. He stroked his tongue over the suddenly hardened peak, suckling just a little, and then he dropped to his knees, and pushed her skirt up.

"Jesus Christ . . . here?" She whispered urgently, but she didn't push him away when he pulled her knee over his shoulder.

Darren nipped at the fleshy part of her labia as he pulled the thong panties aside.

"Yes," Darren said, his voice stern, almost menacing, yet somehow a caress, "Right here, right now."

Alexandra bit her lip to keep from moaning out loud when his tongue parted the tender folds of flesh. She slid her fingers into his hair, at first to stroke his scalp, and then she found herself pushing his head towards her, urging him on as waves of pleasure coursed through her. He slid his fingers inside her, stroking her while suckling on her clit, and she felt her whole body start to spasm with the onset of an orgasm.

Then, she heard Walter's voice.

"Red? Darren?"

Alexandra yanked her shirt closed, and pushed Darren's head back. Darren grabbed the hem of her skirt, pulling it down.

Walter walked around the wall, and stopped in his tracks. Alexandra was up against a storage locker; Darren was on his knees in front of hair mussed, holding her skirt down. Both of them were breathing heavy.

"There's a table farther back," Walter told them.

Darren stood up, pulling his shirt from his pants to hang loose, half covering the swelling at the front of his pants. Then he ran his hands through his hair, and looked at his watch, "You were only gone 8 minutes."

"And you've got a debrief to go to," Walter shot back.

Darren leaned over and gave Alexandra a searing kiss, "Be careful Querrida."

With that, he left.

Alexandra groaned, "God in heaven, Walter . . . I'd kill for a couple hours of down time with him right now."

Walter laughed, "Well, I can't arrange that, but I do have your toys for the mission."

Alexandra sighed, "I guess I'll have to settle then."

Hours later . . .

Kristie laughed out loud, "OH No, not in here!"

Walter nodded, "Oh yes, I walk back there, and Alex is up against the wall, Darren is on his knees in front of her, holding her skirt down, his hair all messed up like Alex was tearing it out. Alex had this glassy stoned look in her eyes, and Darren looked like he was in pain. He walked out of here with his shirt pulled out, as if that might hide the fact that he's walking around with a hard on."

"Damn!" Kristie laughed, "You know he's getting all possessive - with her dressed like that!"

Michael walked into munitions just then, "I need to see the inventory for the Cairo Mission."

Walter nodded, and turned around to pull up the list on his terminal.

"Who is possessive?" Michael asked Kristie, his voice the same calm, gentle modulated tones it always had.

"Look in the mirror," Kristie told him, "Of course, out of fairness, I'd have to include Stephen and Darren, and probably Tony after the last few months."

Michael took all this in but didn't say anything. Kristie had always been good at reading people. If Michael had to pick out a tactician - someone who would someday replace him - after Nikita, it would be Kristie. Nikita's style was very different from Michael's - but very effective. Kristie's on the other hand was similar to Michael's, with a few minor differences. But he'd known they were similar years ago - when they'd first met. It was like Madeline had sent him out to work a female version of himself - a version that hadn't been subjected to the emotionally crippling lifestyle of Section One.

Michael wondered if Madeline had noticed this particular talent of Kristie's. Of course, Kristie was not a threat in terms of ambition to Madeline. If Kristie were given her choice, she'd be training the dogs for the rest of time.

Stephen walked into munitions at that moment, his eyes immediately reverting to Kristie, the amusement clearly plain on her face. Michael nodded to Stephen in greeting. Michael wasn't smiling, but then again - Michael rarely smiled. When he did, it generally involved Nikita.

"How's Nikita?" Stephen asked, "I heard she had a close encounter with a wall or something like that."

"Her shoulder was dislocated," Michael told him, "She'll be inactive for a few days, then she'll be confined to supervising inside for a few weeks. She's resting in her quarters right now."

"Translation - Dr. Marc shot her up with a enough pain medication to knock her into next week," Kristie commented, "Kim's worried it was her fault."

"Operatives get injured on missions," Michael replied.

"Yeah well, everyone may say that, but you gotta remember, Kim is still adjusting to her new status. She told me that she thought that If I had been there, or Alex, maybe one of us would have reacted quicker, maybe Nikita might have seen something if she wasn't concerned about monitoring Kim . . ."

"And you know she's not going to take anyone's word for it right now," Walter added, "That's the curse of being a new cold op . . . lack of confidence."

"That's just gonna take time," Stephen joined in, "I got a few newbies right now that were flinching at their own shadow a few months ago."

Michael listened to all of this, and he couldn't help but remember the Kim he'd brought in several years ago. Being disabled had worn heavily on her psyche. It was natural for her to be a little harder on herself now that she'd gained some ground physically. Michael wondered how much of this Madeline knew. Madeline had been watching Kim very closely. Kim knew it too.

Kim grabbed another beer from the refrigerator, and popped it open. Tony looked up and over at her. He was sitting on the sofa, a pizza sitting on the coffee table in front of him. He still had half of his beer left. She'd just started her third. It was getting kind of scary - it was like Kim was starting to go through the same wild streak Alex had gone through for a while.

"Hey, are we celebrating something?" Tony asked her.

"How about the fact that I didn't get anyone killed," Kim sighed.

Tony groaned, "Baby, we went over this. Shit happens. Nikita didn't see it coming - why the hell should you have."

"Maybe she didn't see it coming because she was busy thinking about covering my ass," Kim told him.

"I think Nikita is always watching everything around her. If that had been me, or Darren, hell even Michael or Stephen, they'd have taken the hit too," Tony told her, "You just gotta let it go baby."

Kim had moved over to the window, and she fingered one of her plants. The leaves had a kind of velvety texture. It needed sunlight, and thrived during the summer.

"What if just don't get any better than I am," Kim said softly, "I mean . . . I'm just barely good enough to go out on missions. If we weren't so short staffed, I would not be going out yet . . ."

"Hey," Tony said standing up and walking up behind her. He slid his arms around her; "You're doing fine. There is always stuff we learn along the way. I'm still learning stuff, Darren is, so is Alex and Kristie, Even Michael and Nikita will tell you they're always training, always adjusting . . . you gotta give yourself time baby. Section pulled you and Kristie out of training so much faster than so many of the others; they're expecting some mistakes. But this time, I don't think you made a mistake. You're doing just as well as some of the guys who've had two years, not just a few months."

Kim sighed, and leaned back into him, "I'm afraid."

"I'm afraid," Tony told her, "The last think I ever wanted, was to see you out on a mission. I don't want to see you hurt, and I know sooner or later, it will happen. I also know that somewhere inside of you, your loving being able to do this - so I'll never tell you not to. But I think you gotta remind yourself that you're just as good as anyone else out there - better than some of them."

Kim nodded, "I just . . ."

"It's a lot to handle so fast," Tony said softly.

"Maybe I've got PMS or something," Kim said, her tone becoming a little less brittle.

Alexandra's whole body was poised and ready, not tense and inflexible, but taut - ready to spring. She'd had time to think about things on her way here. Her thoughts had strayed to Darren - and the little tryst they had in munitions right before she left. She'd felt his eye's burn into her, the second she was in his view. His reaction had been physical, emotional - and she'd felt the tension from across the room. He'd once told her he could almost feel her presence, when she walked into a room. He'd lost control, thrown caution to the wind. He hadn't done that in months. Of course, neither had she.

Her mind had also drifted back to some of her conversations with Michael. Alexandra had been leading teams for a few months now. She wasn't as unsure and nervous as she had been at first, but she wasn't too confident either. She still worried about the mistakes - a lot. She didn't make that many, but she also knew that the people on her team looked at her - and expected her to have some magic solution to a problem - and sometimes, all she could give them was a guess - and silent prayer for deliverance.

Madeline was still constantly attacking her psychological well being. She was constantly looking for cracks, for signs that she was in trouble. Sometimes Alexandra wondered if she was right. Maybe she was a time bomb.

She hadn't felt like that one month ago, she didn't feel like one now. Today, walking across Section dressed in the short skirt, tied up top and high heel sandals, she'd turned heads, commanded attention, but she hadn't felt vulnerable.

Madeline had once told her that her femininity - sensuality, was a weapon. Madeline had forced her to use it. She'd taught and coached her to hone it. But the last few months, Alexandra had barely used it on missions at all. The parameters rarely required it. But it was an implicit skill that Alexandra knew the power of quite well.

She hadn't felt as good as she had today in months, even earlier today, before Darren had pushed her back into munitions and gone down on her.

Maybe conservative wasn't the best tact to follow after all. Sure, she'd been a successful team leader. She hadn't lost anyone yet; she'd only had to quietly yank on a few leashes. Perhaps there was a good balance of femininity, sensuality, and cool, calm professionalism that she could use.

Perhaps she needed a cigarette too.

Alexandra checked her watch. She was supposed to make contact with the target inside the club in an hour. She'd arrived far earlier than what had been planned in the profile. Of course, this had to be one of the worst put together profiles Alexandra had seen in a long time.

She walked into the club, and headed over to the bar. The bar was busy, not frantic insane busy, but busy. It took a moment or two for the bar tender to get to her.

"What'll it be?"

"Vodka tonic - and a pack of Marlboro's," she told him.

He turned around, and pulled the pack of cigarettes out of a rack on the wall, opened the pack, held one up, placing it just between her lips, and then he lit it for her.

Alexandra smiled. This one knew how to work a customer for tips.

Then he went about making a fancy show of mixing her drink. She paid for the drink and the cigarettes, tipped him, then turned around on the barstool, to watch the room.

"Put it out," Michael's soft voice in her ear, echoing through the comm unit.

Alexandra took a long drag, ignoring him.

"Alexandra," his voice more firm this time.

"Don't get your panties into a bunch," Alexandra said calmly, softly, so the comm unit would pick it up, but no one near by would.

Michael didn't respond. He wouldn't argue with her in the middle of a mission and certainly not with half of Section in attendance.

Alexandra watched the bar, occasionally sipping her drink. It was mostly for show. She drew out her cigarette for as long as possible.

This whole profile sucked. The Eric she knew wouldn't jump in with both feet, not when a face from his past, which was supposed to have been dead, suddenly appeared. He'd always been cocky, but never stupid. Like Michael, like Madeline, he'd always been a strategist, constantly evaluating.

He'd want to check her out a little more before he bit. The simple fact that he'd recognize her would make him back up. Madeline had to know this. Alexandra wondered if Michael knew this.

She spotted Eric walking in, two other men with him. Body guards. He'd always had a big guy with him before. But now, the big guy looked a little more polished than some beefy bonehead football player wanna-be. Of course, Eric had cleaned up pretty well too.

He had on a nice looking jacket and slacks. Probably tailored for him. So did the muscle. One of them watched the room, one of them started to, but his eye's strayed to a low cut dress on a rather busty brunette.

He'd be the first one she'd take out if necessary. He'd be too busy checking out her cleavage to notice her hand in her purse.

She would approach him. That was the arrangement. She'd know him by his clothing, and that of his companions. He'd have a PDA on the table with him. He'd know her by her clothing, and a brief description. She'd be wearing a black skirt, a dark blue shirt and would have red shoulder length hair and blue eyes. Alexandra smiled. It sounded like they were meeting up for a blind date.

As she watched, they took one of the booths. She didn't want to find herself sandwiched in. She'd have to improvise somehow.

She glanced at her watch. They'd been here for ten minutes. They weren't expecting her for another 15. Of course, there was really no reason to wait until the appointed time.

She walked towards the table, and when she was about fifteen feet away, the more vigilant guard spotted her. He commented to Eric. Eric looked over, and she saw a flicker of recognition, and confusion, turning into blatant shock.

Alexandra reached the table, and set her drink down.

"Mr. Wilde I presume?" She asked, her voice amused, playful, "Are you as Wilde as you used to be?"

The tension in both guards immediately increased tenfold. Something was wrong, and they knew it. They just didn't have all the pieces.

"You look awfully good for a corpse," Eric said, his voice tight.

"I know," Alexandra said coyly, and she looked at one guard, and then the next. She chose the more watchful guard, and gracefully slid onto his lap, and pulled her pack of cigarettes from her purse.

She placed one between her lips. Eric pulled a lighter out, and lit it. She took a drag, and then exhaled, "Well, first off, You," she said, looking the body guard whose lap she'd decided to use as a chair, "Can relax. I don't bite unless you ask pretty please, and then I have to be in the mood to make it rough."

She took a sip of her drink, and turned her gaze back on Eric, "And you should order a drink, you're looking like you've seen a ghost."

"How'd you manage to pull it off. I couldn't even smuggle M&M's into you," Eric asked her.

Alexandra smiled, "I met the right people, once I was there. I didn't know you tried to smuggle M&M's into me."

"I tried," He told her, "But not profoundly hard."

Alexandra raised an eyebrow, "Was it a nice funeral?"

"Surprising turn out really. More of the street rats we knew in high school than cops there," Eric told her, "Sam was there of course."

"With or without his wife?" Alexandra asked.

Eric drew in a deep breath, "Without. They got divorced you know."

"I know," Alexandra told him, and took a long puff off her cigarette, "I'm surprised there were any cops there at all, after all, I did murder someone."

"How do I know it's really you," Eric asked.

Alexandra shrugged, "You trust your gut. It's not like I'm gonna let you take a print or DNA or anything like that, after all, it will only come back to the new life I set up for myself, and even in my new life, I try not to leave a trail."

"So who did they cremate?" Eric asked her.

"An empty coffin," Alexandra replied, "That was the trick, getting out before they actually slid me into the oven. I was a nervous girl until I was out of that funeral parlor."

"Let's discuss this, outside," Eric said, looking around the club.

He was nervous. She could feel the tension emanating from all of them. She ground her cigarette out, and stood up. One of the two bodyguards got up and put his arm around her shoulders. Alexandra knew she was about to be taken for a ride, and checked out. She'd expected it.

They'd moved out of the club, and across the street to where many of the cars were parked. He led her to a Lincoln continental.

"Somehow, I was thinking of something . . . flashier," Alexandra said, looking the car over.

Eric held the door open. She got in, and he climbed in behind her. The two bodyguards got into the front seat.  Alexandra casually set her purse down next to her, her hand inside it. Her body blocked his view.

They'd driven about three blocks when she found out exactly who bad the profile was.

"You know," he said, "I was there when they pushed that coffin into the oven. There is no way in hell someone managed to escape. Who the hell are you really, and who are you working for?"

"Jesus - Eric if you're gonna bail, let me know now. I've got other jobs I can be doing."

"I don't think so," Eric said calmly, "Because if you are some kind of cop, as a hostage, certain groups will pay top dollar for you."

She'd shifted her purse, and groaned, "Sell me? Hello?! Earth to Eric, if I am some cop, do you think I'm gonna let that happen?"

With that, she pulled the trigger twice, sending two slugs through the back of one guard's head, and then she emptied two more into the other. She swung her free fist out; slamming a back handed fist into Eric, knocking him back into the corner of the car. Then she lunged for the steering wheel, guiding the now careening care off the side of the road, over a side walk, and spinning out into an empty grocery store parking lot.

"Fuck this!" Alexandra swore, turning her gun on Eric, who was now scrambling for the door handle. She grabbed the back of his hair, yanked his head back, and then slammed it into the doorframe, hard. He wavered, and then passed out, cold.

"Michael," Alexandra said, knowing her comm unit would pick it up, "Now you can get your panties into a bunch."

"That profile sucked!"

Kristie smiled, hearing Alexandra's voice travel down the hall. So the mission was over, and something had gone wrong.

As if to answer, two big men came around the corner, with a target in their custody. The target was tied up with a blue silk tie. Michael had a calm, emotionless expression on his face, but Kristie knew he wasn't so calm and cool inside. Alexandra should have been out on that mission a lot longer. Kristie also knew that Alexandra wasn't on Madeline's list of favorite people right now.

Kristie nodded to them, and continued on towards the kennels. It was late, and she just wanted to get her dog, and go home.

When she reached the kennels, one of the night attendants was there, refilling water bowels carefully through the wire mesh. The dogs that were still here watched him, but honestly didn't care what he was doing. They were used to his presence and knew the routine. They also knew they'd be going home with their trainers soon.

Kristie reached the kennel that was Teddy Bears, and slide the lock open. Teddy Bear swiftly moved out of the kennel, his stubby little tail wagging furiously.

"Has he been fed today?"

"Right on schedule," The attendant told her, "I heard that you actually took that dog into med lab, to see that other dog."

Kristie nodded, "Yep."

"Why," the attendant asked, "I mean . . . how close can a Rott and a Chihuahua be?"

Kristie felt her temper rise a little. This man obviously didn't understand that dogs weren't so different from humans - just more sincere.

"If you have to ask, you wouldn't understand," she replied, and pulled the door open.

"Hey, aren't you gonna leash him?" The attendant asked.

Kristie just ignored him, and she and Teddy Bear went on their way.

"That man has less gray matter than Pepe, doesn't he?" Kristie said softly to Teddy Bear, "Speaking of which, I suspect you and I won't be Chihuahua sitting tonight."

They made their way across the main floor, and over towards munitions. A few people glanced in their direction, but no one seemed surprised to see a large chocolate Rott walking with her. They reached munitions, and Walter was just getting the last of things put away for the night. Teddy bear immediately went over to where Pepe's bed was, and nudged the small bed with his nose. Pepe jumped out of it, his tail wagging furiously. He reared up on his hide legs, and sniffing at Teddy bears face.  Teddy bear lifted a paw, and gently knocked the Chihuahua back. Pepe leapt up again, charging at him. It was playtime, if only for a few minutes.

"Now that's a video to have," Walter laughed, watching them, "Does Alex ever see this happen?"

"Oh yeah," Kristie told him, "and we do have a video of it I think. I think she's got a picture of them all curled up asleep too. Pepe was laying right on him."

"So, you headed home?"

"Yeah," Kristie told him, "Stephen's probably waiting on me, but that's good for all men, a little bit of waiting."

Walter groaned, "Get out of here."

Darren was just walking into Munitions, as Walter told Kristie to get out.

"Hey - I'm here to claim the Chihuahua," Darren announced, "Unless of course, Teddy Bear refuses to let me near him."

Pepe, hearing Darren's voice, jumped up onto Teddy Bear's head, and scrambled onto his back, to get to Darren. Darren laughed, and scooped the little Chihuahua up.

"Did you miss your daddy?" Darren asked Pepe, scratching the Chihuahua's belly.

Teddy Bear nudged Darren's hip with his head. Obviously, Teddy Bear wasn't done playing. Darren set Pepe down again, and the play continued.

"Alex just got back you know," Kristie told him.

Darren had been bent over, scratching Teddy Bear, who was ignoring Darren, because Pepe was there. Darren stood up, "Something must have gone wrong, she should have been gone for a few days."

"Brought back her target too," Kristie told him, "She was giving Michael and earful about the profile."

Darren nodded, looking at his watch. Alex was back, he was back, and he wasn't scheduled to go out again for another 16 hours . . .

"Walter," Darren said, scooping up Pepe, "Tell Alex I'm holding Pepe for ransom at my place."

"What's the ransom?"

"Some of her time," Darren replied, grinning, "Gentlemen, ladies . . . oh shit - that's right, I'm in Section-"

Kristie balled up one of the rags Walter had been using to clean a gun and threw it at Darren before he had a chance to finish the insult. It ended with all of them laughing - and Darren leaving with Pepe tucked into the crook of his arm.

The debrief took place in Michael's office.

"What, I don't get to listen to Madeline tell me I purposely screwed up the mission?" Alexandra asked Michael, as they walked into his office.

"Did you?" Michael asked calmly.

Alexandra made some noise that told Michael she thought his question was stupid.

"Like I'd do that - and put myself at risk. I should have known it wasn't going to be anything like what Madeline said it was," Alexandra replied, "I don't know if he has any Intel we'd want, but at this point, I think the chances of me infiltrating his household are slim to nothing, considering that he was going to sell me."

Michael sat down behind his desk, leaned backing his chair, to watch her. Body language told him things that she would never admit to. She was keyed up. She paced the room, and Michael had heard how pissed she was for the last 20 minutes. But what she didn't say - was that she'd suddenly felt hung out to dry.

"When did you start smoking again?" Michael asked her.

She looked over at him; "It's an occasional thing."

"Occasional as in

"I wasn't nervous, I was in a bar, and early. It fit that lame ass profile," She told him.

"It would be a mistake to trade one addiction for another Rouge," Michael said softly.

Alexandra's head snapped around, "Don't even go there. I had ample opportunity in Seattle, and I did just fine."

It was a lie, and they both knew it. She had been able to say no, but it had been extremely hard to do. So hard, that everyone around her noticed she was extremely tense.

"Give me the cigarettes," Michael told her.

Alexandra groaned, "Are we done? Can I go home after this?"

"Be back in at by noon," Michael told her, "The cigarettes Alex."

Alexandra looked at her watch. That gave her 9 hours.

She opened the door,  "No."

She walked out.

Nikita woke up when Michael slipped into bed. She glanced at the clock; it was 4:00 am. How many hours had she been asleep? Far to many - and it had been a drug-induced sleep too. Her mouth felt cottony - and Michael emanated tension.

"Can you hand me the water?" She said, her voice whisper soft.

Michael picked up the water bottle, and carefully tilted it, so she could take a sip. She took three long pulls and then nodded for Michael to take the bottle away again.

"What's eating you?" Nikita asked him.

"Alex is smoking - again."

"Is that all?" Nikita asked.

Michael looked at her; "It will start to affect her performance. She can't afford to many mistakes right now."

"I'll talk to her - I'll have Darren talk to her. If he holds out from kissing her, I'm betting she'll stop."

Alexandra rinsed out her mouth, after brushing her teeth. Darren had Pepe, and they had some mutual down time. She also knew he'd get on her ass about smoking again. So she brushed her teeth, and changed her cloths, and took a quick shower before she headed over to his apartment.

When she got there, the lights were off, and she had to use her key. She got the door open, closed it behind her, and heard the telltale sound of little nails on the hard wood floor. Pepe wagged his tail from Darren's bedroom door.

"Alex?" Darren's voice called.

"No, it's a horny psychotic terrorist," Alexandra called back.

"I like a challenge," Darren responded.

She set her bag down just inside his bedroom door, and stripped off her cloths, and climbed into bed. Darren's arms slid around her, his hand stroking her still damp hair.

"Short mission," Darren commented.

"It went all to hell. Target didn't buy my cover, so I had to bring him in," Alexandra told him, "I just heard this rumor as I was leaving Section."

"What's the rumor?" Darren asked her.

"That you were the last person to see Beth alive," Alexandra told him, "Is she the one who Poisoned Pepe?"

Darren sighed, "I think so."

"Did you kill her? Because she wasn't cancelled in house," Alexandra told him, "I'd have heard about that."

"I didn't kill her," Darren told her, "And you don't want to know the rest, trust me. She got what she deserved."

With that, Darren rolled her under him, his fingers massaging her scalp, "I don't want to spend the few precious hours we have talking about her."

Darren's body pinning hers down, his fingers in her hair was enough to distract her from asking any other questions, for the moment.

Tony woke up, to find Kim gone from the bed. He sat up, looking around, and found her by the window, watching the sunrise begin. She was clad in one of his shirts, the hemline just long enough to cover her butt.

She looked wonderful, with her hair all tussled, her shoulders back, looking outside and up at the sky.

"God you're gorgeous," Tony said, his voice a little scratchy, "Did you have a nightmare?"

"No," she replied quietly, "I just woke up - and the sky was starting to turn. I love sunrises," she told him, even though he knew that. He'd found her watching more than one - but it was usually because she'd been awake after having some nightmare.

Now, she should watch all the sunrises she could. After all, since she was now a cold op, the chances that it might be her last sunrise had gone up substantially.

Tony felt his heart twist in his chest, as that thought passed through his mind. He'd been elated the moment he saw her stand up and walk - without the cane. He'd felt the shear ecstasy it had been for her - and he'd been standing a few feet away.

But it was hours later, when he'd noticed that Madeline and Operations were watching her, that terror struck his heart. He'd known then, what was coming. Before anyone said anything, he'd known. She was smart, agile, and had the mental stamina. She'd make an excellent cold op. But it could also make her one very dead woman if anything went wrong. Tony had always clung rather jealously to the fact that chances were that if he came back from a mission, Kim would always be there.

That wasn't true anymore.

Kim turned back to gazing at the sky, after seeing several emotions cross Tony's face so quickly. She had a good idea what he'd been thinking about. He'd mentioned it casually before. But neither one of them would seriously discuss it. What was the point? Neither one of them could fight the inevitable.  But they could enjoy the present.

She felt his hands slid around her waist from behind, and she leaned back into him, resting her head back onto his shoulder.

"Do you remember that sunrise in Kosovo?" she asked him softly.

"It was beautiful," Tony murmured, pressing a kiss to her neck, "I love you."

"I love you too," she whispered back.

Kristie felt the warm body next to her, but she knew it wasn't Stephen. Stephen had spent last night in Section, and probably hadn't even had a chance to get any sleep.

The body next to her stretched, and she felt him turn onto his back. Kristie sat up, reached over, and scratched his belly, just where his rib cage ended.

"Shall we go back in, or say fuck it and just stay home?" Kristie asked him.

Teddy Bear wagged his stubby little tail, as if agreeing with her that they should not go back into Section.

But then the phone rang. Teddy Bear growled.

"Me too," Kristie sighed, reaching for the phone.

    Walter wiped the tears that gathered in his eyes.  He had been laughing for so long, his face hurt from smiling.  Birkoff grinned, shaking his head at Kristie as she waited for Walter to regroup.  His laughter started to ease up, and Kristie jumped at her chance again.

"And did you hear about the lady that got stung by a bee between the first and second holes at the golf course," she paused as she watched both Walter and Birkoff shook their heads before she delivered the punch line, "Yeah, they said her stance was too wide!"

Raucous laughter filled Munitions again as everyone lost  it.  Only the beeping of the intercom disturbed the fun.  Walter held his finger to his lips to quiet everyone down before pressing the button in response.

"This is Walter," he let go of the button as he looked up to Operation's normal roost.  When he found it empty, he was puzzled.  Then, Madeline's carefully modulated voice echoed from the small box.

"Walter, can you please ask Kristie to come to my office," Madeline tapped the button again, and Walter heard it click off.  He looked at Kristie, and saw her smile was gone.  

"I gave you two days of down time in hopes that you would bring a report to me," Madeline watched Kristie's veiled expression, carefully controlled and couldn't help but be impressed.

"You expect me to put in writing, in report form, something that is even internally covert?  You surprise me Madeline, I thought you deemed me more intelligent than that.  If you need information on the goings-on of the meeting that I was privy to, you needed only to ask me in a secured location.  This office, by the way, is not one of those places," Kristie kept her tone light, gauging Madeline's expression.  She saw amusement and surprise there and knew one point had been scored.  

"You pick the place and the time, and I won't come wired. Do we have a deal?" Madeline's Mona Lisa smile played across her lips.

"Montaldo's, at fifth and Lansing, do you know it?"

"The best prima Vera around.  Order a good bottle of red wine, and I'll meet you there at seven," Madeline smiled, genuinely this time as she turned to face her computer.

"Seven is fine, see you there." Kristie mounted the steps after vanquishing her demon.

"Baked ziti for one lady and pasta prima Vera for the other. The vintage on the red is 1980 as requested, and you're dinners will be right out," the waiter turned, favoring both women with an appreciative smile and disappeared into the kitchen.  Madeline sipped her wine, rolling it on her tongue to savor it.  Kristie saw her eyebrows raise in approval.

"This was a good choice, it's wonderful," Madeline swirled the ruby liquid in her glass.

"Michael's training in wine selection finally pays off," Kristie took a small sip; trying to enjoy it as much as Madeline appeared to be.  The slightly sweet, bitter combination made her tongue tingle. 'And they say beer is an acquired taste...' she thought.

"So, now that you're in a place of anonymity, and you have scanned me for bugs with one of Walter's little toys and I've come up clean...is there time for you to tell me about the situation with Beth?"

"What do you need to know Madeline? You were in on the planning of this with me, you pretty much ordered me to do it...and now it's done.  The evidence was disposed of, housekeeping was never called, and none of the rest of the group knows that you were involved in any manner.  I did my job, I got the information from her and her confession in a number of the deaths of operatives in the last few missions," Kristie was trying to keep her temper under control, but she could feel her pulse beginning to race.

"I don't really need the information about the death's of the other operatives.  It happens, and we didn't really lose anyone crucial on any of those missions.  What I wanted information about was the actual techniques you may have used.  You seemed to have handled this extremely well psychologically, and I may have found a new talent in you to utilize." Madeline finished her glass of wine and was just reaching for the bottle to refill it when the waited seemed to appear out of nowhere, the way good waiters do.  He refilled her glass, checked the progress that Kristie had made on hers, and disappeared around the corner again. Kristie was happy for the distraction after hearing Madeline speak of how they had lost no one of any importance.  She reminded herself quickly that she knew that they were all just numbers to Madeline and Operations.  The comment about using her new talent however did intrigue her, and she wanted to hear more.

"How descriptive would you like me to be?"  Kristie watched the feral smile spread across Madeline's face and thought to herself, let the head-games begin.

Alexandra sat in her living room, her feet curled under her on a large cushion of pillows.  Pepe lay like a tiny ball of brown fur,  snuggled down into a plush towel fresh and still warm from the dryer.  She stroked one nail down his spine, and smiled as she watched him first shiver, then nestle himself even deeper into the towel and his sleep.  She heard a low groan, and felt a puff of hot air warm her hip.  She looked beside her to see Teddy Bear just settling his head back onto his borrowed pillow.  Alex knew that only seconds before, his head had been up with ears forward.  After checking on Pepe and Alexandra's safety he checked the rest of his surroundings and finding them safe, was already drifting  back into his light sleep.  Most likely the only time that dog ever got a good night of hard sleep was at Kristie's where he was adjusted to everything.  Tonight however, Kristie had asked this favor of Alex and she wouldn't have dared turn her down...not after all the quality babysitting time Kristie had put in with Pepe.  

The two dogs had played hard, well, Pepe had played hard while Teddy was as gentle as he could be.  Mini growls emitted from Pepe as he had jumped from side to side grabbing at first one, then the other of Teddy's ears and pulling for all he was worth.  The funniest event of the night had happened during one of these little tug-of-wars when Teddy let loose with a sneeze that sent Pepe bounding for Alexandra's lap.  Shaking till  he was reassured by Mama that everything was fine, he approached Teddy like a mongoose approaches the rattle snake...he's got to be careful, but he thinks he can take him.  Making it back over to Teddy again, Pepe was surprised again when a large lick of Teddy's tongue caught him right in the face.  Alexandra had laughed till she cried watching him stagger backward from being caught off balance.  

After a salad for Alex, and a little treat of popcicles for the "kids",they had all found a comfortable spot on the floor to settle down and let Alex catch up on some laundry.  Now as she watched the two odd-ball furry friends sleep she thought this was the best slumber-party she had ever had.  Alex heard a sound to her right, and turned to see Teddy with his head up, and ears pricked up staring hard at the door.  A low rumble started in his chest and made it's way out of his mouth about the time that Alex was chambering the clip in her gun.  Teddy rose on his haunches, head held low, ears back and waited for Alex to make her move. She tapped him on one shoulder and he advanced to within two foot of the door and waited.  Alex walked to the opposite side and listened to someone rattle keys, then mumble something to someone else in the hallway.  A  moment later, the knob began to turn and the door eased open.  The smell of hot pizza wafted into the room only a half-second before Darren put one foot into the room.  One foot was a much as he got in before he heard the low growl of a large dog.  He froze where he was, pizza box balanced in one hand, the other still on the keys in the lock.  

"Uhhh Alex...please tell me that's Teddy that I'm hearing," Darren spoke in a low, level tone and Teddy recognized his voice immediately.

Alex spoke the command to have him stand down, and Teddy stepped backward  from the door allowing Darren to finally enter the apartment all the way. Alex clicked on the safety and lay the gun on the counter behind her.  She took the pizza from Darren and sat it beside the pizza then turned to kiss him fully, stepping into his embrace.

"I didn't know you were in tonight, much less that there was a chance that you may come over," Alex walked toward the kitchen, grabbing two paper towels and two beers from the refrigerator.  Darren bent to scoop Pepe into his palm after feeling little feet pawing at his calf. Teddy nudged him with his big muzzle demanding some attention of his own. Darren dropped one hand to scratch the big dog's ear, smiling as he watched his head tilt into his hand urging him to scratch harder.  

"So, where's Kris and Stephen?  You must be babysitting for a reason, although it seems more like he's looking after you guys," Darren dropped his eyes to Teddy then looked back to Alex.  

"Stephen's out till tomorrow, Japan I think...and Kristie's having a dinner meeting with Madeline,"  Alex carried the pizza with the two beers balanced atop it to the coffee table and sat it all down carefully. Darren put Pepe onto his pile of towels where he only stayed for a split second before bounding toward Teddy.  Daddy and Mom were home, he had a playmate staying for the night and there was fresh pizza in the house. All was right in the world as far as Pepe was concerned.  

  "A dinner meeting...with Madeline?  What's up?"  Darren's concern was plain in his eyes as he took the beer Alex held out for him.  Alex shrugged, opening the box and pulling out two steamy slices of pizza.

"Don't know, seems very covert to me.  I know she's been under Madeline's microscope lately for some reason...but so far, Kris isn't giving up anything to me," Alex took a large bite of pizza, closing her eyes and savoring all of the flavors flooding her mouth.  With her eyes closed, she missed the look of total fear in Darren's gaze.

Dinner was finished rather early, and Madeline informed Kristie that she had a mission for her that evening.  Clarifying that she knew this would be a test of sorts, Kristie nodded her head and the two women left for Section.

"Your performance will be monitored by me and me alone.  You will have one hour to prepare for your subject, I've already uploaded your panel with his Section bio," Madeline placed the small pad in Kristie's hand watching her gaze remaining steady even with this bit of Intel.  

"An operative...intriguing.  Is this person in abeyance, or have they just got an interesting brain to pick?" Kristie held Madeline's gaze knowing that she was looking for weakness in her even now.

"He isn't in abeyance yet.  We feel he may have been holding back on some Intel from his last mission.  Physical violence does not work with him; neither does sexual coercion.  Review his panel see what you can do.

You are against the clock as well on this.  Sometimes we are pressed to get Intel quickly from subjects to prevent further damage being done," Madeline turned away from Kristie, then looked over her shoulder at the young woman, "and, good luck."  The heavy door swung shut and Kristie flipped the panel on and began to read.

Sullivan, a seven year veteran who had never moved above level three but kept around for his size and skill at hand to hand combat.  Robbed and murdered four Chinese men in one evening as they left a club.  One turned out to be an ambassador.  Sentenced to death, sat on death row for two years before he supposedly lifted a handcuff key from a guard that he used to slash his own wrists with.  Died in prison...blah blah blah...Section

material.  There was nothing in his psyche profile that was useful to her, a basic dead-end.  Kristie brought up several photos of Sullivan, and her brain felt a jolt.  A mission, over a year ago had found them on the same team. She and Sullivan had both gotten pinned down in a room with four hostiles hot on them.  Kristie had pried a cover from an air duct she had found in the wall behind a desk.  Being small, she eased into it and was able to turn around to yell for Sullivan's attention.  He had backed into the duct feet first and pulled the cover into place just as the door imploded and the four hostiles piled into the now empty room.  Kristie could hear their angry shouts, even with her line of sight blocked by first Sullivan, then the desk in front of the grate.  Suddenly, she was aware of Sullivan's breathing increasing to a pant.  A very low moaning sound was coming from him, and when she tapped him to get his attention, he could barely turn enough of his head in the confined space to allow her to see one eye.  It was enough, as Kristie saw panic and lunacy in that stare.  His head whipped back around, the sound of the groaning growing louder until Kristie was sure that the hostiles could hear them.  All at once, all hell broke loose and Satan's name was Sullivan.  With one mighty shove, the grate was forced off slamming into the desk with Sullivan barreling out behind it.  He had his gun held at ready and used the other hand to shove the two hundred-pound oak desk across the room and into two of the hostiles.  One corner of it centered its force directly on the spine of one of the men, and he dropped from the instant paralysis.  The other man hit the floor face first; missing the chance at seeing his two comrades nearly cut in half as Sullivan rose to his feet firing.  Kristie had slid from the vent, watched the uninjured man on the floor start to flail for the gun that had slid just out of his reach just before the bullet from her gun entered his brain.  He jerked once and was still.  The paralyzed man was desperately trying to pull the gun from the holster that was now pinned under his useless legs.  Sullivan took two steps toward him, grasped his head in his large hands, and twisted.  Kristie heard the sickening sound like celery being broken, and saw the man's head now lay at a most unnatural angle.  His eyes already starting to glaze as he stared at nothing.

Kristie called for egress, Birkoff shouted a route to her and they made it out thirty seconds before the charges were detonated.  Kristie had not breathed a word about Sullivan's problem, and had never been more thankful for that fact until now.  

Sullivan was brought into the room with a black hood over his head and knew it was futile to struggle inside of Section.  He was banded tightly to an upright metal stand, the steel bands encircling his neck; his chest; his waist; thighs and each wrist.  The hood was pulled off, and Kristie stepped into the room.  

"Oh Kristie, not you," Sullivan shook his head slowly back and forth.  Kristie walked closely to him, stroking a long piece of red hair from over one of his eyes.

"Sorry Sullivan.  You've been holding out on them.  You need to tell me what you did with that last disk.  You made a copy...where is it?" Kristie stepped back, meeting his eyes and his resistance.

"I don't know what you're talking about?  So what's the deal, are you Maddy's little mini-me now?  I didn't think you were that much of a company girl Kris," his eyes held a slight amusement.  Kristie walked to a large cloth panel and reached behind it.  She held up the contraption for Sullivan to see.  He blinked at her, clearly not understanding its design or use.  Kristie knelt by his feet, opened the large circular piece of metal at its hinged side, and fitted it around his feet and knees.  Heavy clamps were closed and held it tightly closed.  To anyone else, it would have seemed he was standing in a large tube about the circumference of a manhole cover.  Kristie stepped back to examine her handiwork.

"What the hell is that?  Is that thing electrified or something?" Sullivan was straining to look straight down, a movement made nearly impossible by the binding strip around his throat.

"Now, tell me about that disk.  That's all we need to talk about," Kristie watched him trying to see the tube around his legs, then his eyes met hers again.

"So, that thing doesn't do anything?  That's stupid as hell.  What's the deal, is this some kind of kinky sex thing that you're trying out on me before you take it home to Stephen-baby," Sullivan was eyeing her, trying to bait her and make her lose her control.  He shuddered just a bit as he watched Kristie's lips form into a very Madeline-like smile before she crossed to the screen again.  She turned with another piece of the tube in her hands.  She brought it over and secured it, just as she had done the first section.  Sullivan looked down to see that the tube had now reached the level of his chest.  Stepping back, she saw the realization finally beginning to dawn on him.

  "Oh shit Kristie!  You can't do this to me...you know...you know..." Sullivan's panic was at full tilt now seeing that not only was his movement totally incapacitated, she was going to seal him in.

Kristie circled him and checked her watch while she was behind his back.  Seven minutes and counting...was that too long?  She came around to face him again, seeing the sweat running down his neck and chest like rain and knew it wouldn't be much longer at all.

"Okay Sullivan, you see where this is going.  I do know what it does to you, to be closed in...in a tight confined place...in the dark.  I also know that you are one hell of an operative that I would be proud to fight beside again.  Before that can happen, you have to tell me what I need to know.  Where is the back-up?"

Kristie watched Madeline's smile broaden as she entered her office. She handed her the pad with the updated personal information on Sullivan and the location of the duplicated disk.  She stood rigidly next to the desk until Madeline asked her to take a seat.  She didn't lounge in the chair, but her body language did not convey any tension to Madeline either and she was pleased with that fact.  She had just used stored information about a fellow operative to get into his head and extract the information that was needed, and had done so without noticeable reserve.

"Why didn't you tell us what you knew of Sullivan's claustrophobia?  That is a major weakness in an operative," Madeline raised her eyes from the panel.

"He also channels his panic into action when that type of situation occurs Madeline.  He's a great operative, and it's not like he couldn't overcome this fear with some hypnosis treatment.  There's no need to cancel someone when the problem hardly ever manifests itself number one, and number two that there is a good chance of recovery," Kristie knew the argument was worthless, but she had to give it a try.

"You're right," Madeline smiled, and made a notation on the pad.  She spun it so Kristie could see that it was for a battery of hypnosis therapy for Sullivan.  

"I'm right..." Kristie couldn't hide the disbelief on her face this time.

"Yes.  Most phobias are highly treatable, but we have to know about them to be able to help the operative who is suffering through them.  Sullivan is still very useful to us, even with this small discretion in his behavior.  Regardless of what everyone else may think, it does not please us to send an operative through two years of training just to cancel them for what others may think is a small problem," Madeline watched her to

see if she saw dissention to her last statement.  She saw none and turned to her computer.  Bringing up Kristie's own profile, she began to enter the new data cataloging the new training that the young woman was now going through, and her initial results.

"As a reward for doing your job so well tonight, you can have tomorrow off as down-time.  Tell no one the purpose of our meeting or your actions here tonight.  I may need you day after tomorrow, and if I do, you should know that this interrogation may require more physical contact. Do you have a problem with that?" "If you really think I have a problem using physical violence, I can draw you a map to a deep well..." Kristie

didn't try to hide the frustration in her voice.

"Point taken.  You'll be hearing from me," Madeline stood and watched as Kristie ascended the stairway to leave.  As she reached the top, she turned to look back at her.

"Now I understand the power you feel over people, and like a sickness...I can see how easy it is to catch," Kristie turned and walked down the hallway with Madeline watching her retreating form.

"I feel that you'll understand much, much more very soon my dear," the door slid shut and her office was once more silent.

Nikita saw something out of her peripheral vision, and looked up. About 40 people were walking onto the main floor. Some of them looked a little nervous, some just alert, some openly curious. Some of them confidence and power - just like a level 5 operative.

"New meat," Kristie commented, "'bout damn time. When I look forward for a plane ride to a job so I can sleep, something is very wrong."

Nikita watched the group's progress as they moved across the main floor. They carried duffel bags, some of them shoulder bags, and they were being lead to a door that went into one of the larger conference rooms.

"Where'd they come from," Alexandra asked, "One of the other sections? Or the agency."

"Section Seven," Michael's voice said, behind them, whisper soft.

Nikita smiled. Even in normal conversation, Michael's voice could sound like a caress.

"I overheard some stuff in comm, about them being breached a few days ago," Kim volunteered, "But they were almost all out in play."

Nikita wondered how Michael had known. She'd catch him in his office later, or outside of Section One.

Nikita walked around behind Michael's desk, pulled out the keypad, and punched in the code that she knew so well by now. Michael didn't look up at her askance. But he did pull her down onto his lap, his mouth covering hers, his tongue slipping past her lips, savoring the sweet depths.

The kiss broke a few moments later.

"Actually, I did have a question," Nikita sighed, her fingertips tracing the sensual curve of Michael's passion moistened lips. Unbidden, her mind brought forth memories of the previous . . . was it a night, or morning time . . . well, their previous session of love making. But she pushed the wonderful memory away, intent on asking him about his knowledge of Section seven.

"Did you have anything to do with Section seven being sent here?" Nikita asked him.

"George contacted me a few days ago, asking about the slight decrease in Section One's numbers. I explained that we were running at 67 of the minimum staffing levels, and that I expected our numbers to continue to fall. When he asked why we were that low, I cited our increased mission load. Then he asked for a recommendation. Section seven has some talented operatives - but poor leadership. Incorporating them into Section One was a good tactical move. Our mission load will increase slightly, but we'll have the staffing to handle it."

"I'm surprised George didn't offer you Section seven," Nikita commented.

"Section seven has always been in a weak position," Michael told her.

Translation - Michael didn't want Section Seven - he wanted Section One. That was no secret to Nikita. Michael had never been power hungry though - just goal oriented. His time would come - unless of course, he was killed on a mission. But so far, Nikita had seen him recover from some seemingly fatal injuries.

Kim stepped off the stair machine, feeling only a hint of a dull ache - where before, she'd have been in serious pain. A few months prior, she'd have been unable to walk at all. She smiled, and felt the almost orgasmic thrill once again. She'd never thought she'd have the full use of her legs again - let alone be able to do all of this.

She saw Tony step off of the machine next to hers, and they made their way over to the free weights. As she walked, she saw more than one pair of eye's track her progress across the gym, the glances appreciative, some even feral. Tony's hand brushed hers as they stepped around one of the nautilus machines.

"Somebody seems to be awfully popular lately," Tony commented. His tone was confident though - not nervous, not jealous.

"Funny," Kim sighed, looking around, "how many people didn't see the same thing before, with a cane in the picture too."

With that, she picked up one of the round weights, and started to slide it onto the bar.

Tony smiled. He did feel a little out of sorts sometimes, hearing the guys in the locker room talk about Kim, seeing them look at her, but he didn't worry about any of it turning Kim's head. It hadn't surprised him before - that he didn't see the cane, before the person, and that many other men did see only the cane. Tony knew it was also an advantage too - that he was able to look past the props.

Kim settled herself down on the bench, preparing to bench-press the weighted bar.

"Well look who's feeling all hot and sexy lately!" A voice said, off to the right.

Kim and Tony both turned their heads, to look. It was Jeff - a known bully, and an operative. He could do the job, but he wasn't much of a team player.

"Don't you have a rock to crawl back under?" Kim asked him, turning her attention back to the bar. She lifted it off the supports, and started to lower it, then push it back up.

"Now you ain't gonna be one of those hateful feminist bitches, are ya?" Jeff asked, leaning on one of the other racks.

Tony was about to say something, but he caught a look from Kim, the look telling him that she was going to fight her own battles.

Kim racked the bar, and sat up, and pointedly at the Jeff's hands, then his feet, and then looked at Tony's feet, and then his hands.

"What is it they say about small hands, small feet baby?" Kim asked, looking up at Tony's face, seeing understanding dawning on his face, as he realized what she was doing.

Before Jeff could retaliate, the intercom went off. It was Birkhoff's voice, calling Kim and Tony to the briefing room.

"I need an updated sat map," Darren told Birkhoff, standing over the computer expert's shoulder.

"This is the latest one we have, its only 36 hours old," Birkhoff told him, his voice betraying a little bit of annoyance.

"A lot can change in 36 hours," Darren snapped, "Damnit!"

"Can't it," Birkhoff muttered under his breath, "Look - it's gonna have to be good enough."

A few more cold ops started to filter into the room. Kim and Tony were among them. Darren knew he was going to be working with twice the amount of staff he normally had on this mission - and they'd still be stretched thin.

"Don't we look all dressed up and no place to go," Darren teased them.

Kim smirked. Darren could tease and torment her all he wanted. He'd recognized her value - and her beauty, with the cane, and it hadn't changed in his eyes without it.

She made a waving gesture in front of her nose, "I smell good too. What asshole terrorist dared to interrupt my workout?"

"Forgive me if I don't feel to bad for you, I had plans to go seduce Alex," Darren sighed, "Black Moon is our target this time around."
Operations walked in at that moment, and everyone fell silent for the briefing.

"Mind if I finish the briefing Darren?" Operations said, looking at Darren pointedly.

"I yield the floor," Darren quipped back, refusing to be intimidated.

He sat down calmly, exuding confidence. Nikita had just slipped into the room, witnessing the exchange. She smiled.

"Black Moon," Operations began, "Is a terrorist organization that we tried - unsuccessfully - to eliminate in the past. After our last attempt, they seemed to disappear off the earth. They've resurfaced. Last night, they bombed an embassy in Tel Aviv."

The holo screen showed images of the wreckage. Rubble, glass, bodies, and body parts littering the ground. Darren wanted to grimace, but he knew he couldn't, not with the audience he had here. It was so like Operations to choose a picture like this.

"We've recovered Intel on their current location. Your job will be to go in, and exterminate them, recover any useful intelligence. Bring back the leaders alive for interrogation. You leave in twenty minutes."

Kim and Tony were both up and out of their chairs a split second later - to head back to the locker rooms for a quick shower before they picked up their gear.

"Got a lot of new folks on this job," Tony commented, sliding into a seat next to Darren, "We know anything about them?"

"Not a damn thing," Darren replied, looking around, "Not a damn blessed thing - other than that they've all recently been uprooted and had to hide in shadows for a few days, until they got shipped here - with just enough time to go out again."

"In other words - they're as worn out as we are," Kim sighed.

"Yep," Darren replied, his eye's traveling over faces.

Kristie found herself laying stomach down in the dirt, hiding under the cover of a bush that had seen better days. Stephen's team had been sent out to recover a target from his home. The target would have Intel that Section wanted. That was the extent of what Kristie and the rest of the team had been told. Stephen probably knew very little more. But surely, they'd all find out later on.

It was very hot, and very muggy. Thunder rumbled across the sky, and bright flashes of lightning frequently lit up everything.

"Make ya homesick?" Stephen asked Kristie, through the comm unit.

Kristie sighed, "Gee - It's hotter'n hell, muggy as hell, and we're about to be drenched - I think this was the part of North Carolina that I didn't miss."

"Kristie," Johnny's voice asked, "Where in the Carolina's where you from?"

"Here - Greensboro," Kristie replied.

"How long do these storms last?" Stephen asked, "I'd hate to have us all moving in, and then have lightning light us all up."

"If you wait for the storm to pass, we could wait all summer long, or we could wait five minutes. You just never know here." Kristie told him, "good news is, with the thunder, we could take out half the security before someone heard us."

"If they don't see us."

"Right."

Everyone was silent for a few moments.

"Stand ready," Stephen said, his voice resigned, "Abby - where's our target."

"Upstairs, master bedroom, back of the house," came the comm tech's voice. She was another 50 yards back, working from the van.

The thunder rumbled through the sky, and Stephen gave the order to move in. Kristie leapt up off the ground, dodging from bush to bush, watching everything around her - the shadows, the brush, the guards and the house.

She came up behind one of the guards, let her rifle fall loose at the hip, instead choosing to use her knife. Lightning quick, she clamped her hand over his mouth and brought the razor sharp blade across his throat, cutting deep and fast. She caught a glimpse of the spray as the lightning flashed, his body convulsing and bucking. She let him go, the body dropping in front of her. She stepped around him, moving behind a decorative tree, preparing to take out her next target.

But gunfire sounded, a shout of alarm went up, and Kristie had to revert back to her rifle. She'd just brought it up to bear when he came around the corner of the house. He turned, as if seeing she was there, and she let off two quick bursts, and he dropped to the ground before he'd ever fired his gun.

Kristie moved around the building, searching for her next target.

"Damn it's cold," Alexandra commented, shivering as the wind cut through the black jumpsuit that was the standard mission gear.

Michael didn't respond. The wind cut through his clothing too. The weather report they'd received hadn't been accurate at all. It should have been somewhere in the high 50's, maybe low 60's. Instead, it was 41 degree's, and windy.

"And you're here acting like it's not cold," Alexandra muttered, "I was about to get laid, when I got called in by the way, but I don't suppose that matters much."

"No," Michael replied.

Alexandra laughed a little, "Hell, at least I got a response."

They were both silent for a few minutes, watching the terrain. Their target was a supply truck. The supply truck contained components of an explosive that section frequently used, and the people delivering it had tried to rip off Section One.

When Alexandra had heard the mission parameters, she'd waited until Madeline was out of the room, then looked at Michael, "So I go from being Section's whore of choice, to thief of choice? That's a helluva promotion Michael."

Michael's only response had been to tell her to go get ready. Missions like this irritated him too. It wasn't that he felt ripping off a supplier was below him, especially when that supplier tried to rip off section one, but there were other missions in the works, that required the attention of a level 5 operative. This was a mission Alex and her team could have handled without him. It was almost below Alexandra's skill level and time even - except that Michael knew that someone below her skill level could make some poor choices - and loose the whole mission all together.

Of course, the target hadn't made an appearance. That did worry Michael.

"We're gonna go back to Section with egg on our faces Michael," Alexandra sighed, shifting around, "Cause the target is not showing up. Looks like our snitch double crossed us too."

Michael couldn't argue with that logic. The target was an hour and a half late.

"Everyone back to the van," Michael called.

It was an hour later, after they were on the plane, and Michael had finished his initial verbal report to Operations that Michael started to pick her brain about Eric Wilde.

"How well could you have dealt with Wilde?" Michael asked her.

Alexandra shrugged, "Well enough - especially for a good girl turned bad girl."

She said that calmly, confidently, waiting to hear Michael's next question.

"Is that how you thought of yourself?" Michael asked her.

"Even after I killed Juan Henry, I thought of myself as a

"Do you think he'll cross Section?" Michael asked her.

Alexandra's head snapped up, "He's not dead?"
"No," Michel replied, "Madeline is going to release him, treat him as an informant."

"Jesus . . . I don't know Michael. I suppose I'll end up being his contact."

"Yes," Michael replied.

Alexandra sighed deeply, "When, exactly, did you find out about this."
Michael handed his PDA to her. A message from Madeline glowed on the screen. She told him to

"I don't know what kind of person he is anymore Michael. I mean - he was gonna sell me off - don't think we can trust him for a minute."

"I trust his fear of section," Michael replied, "By now, Madeline has him well in hand."

Alexandra sighed deeply, settling back into her seat. She also knew she must have made an impression - the way she'd handled him. She hoped between her actions and Madeline's that it would be enough.

But it hadn't been enough for Brian Carlson.

Stephen shoved the target into the van, and turned to look at Kristie - about to ask her what she was doing, and tell her to get into the van. She was standing in the rain, her head thrown back, her face tilted up, her hands held up and out. Stephen felt his breath catch in his throat. This was the part of the country she'd called home once - and he knew she'd spent many summers dodging these rain storms, and maybe even spent a few moments enjoying them - the way she was now.

She sighed, and looked at her hands, as if inspecting them, and then looked over at Stephen, a slight smile on her face. She stepped around him, and climbed into the van.

Kristie knew Stephen had been watching her for a moment - and she knew he'd been about to say something and stopped. She looked around once more, as she climbed into the van - a thousand memories flooding back to her. It smelled like home, it felt like home, and she could hear Whisky and Princess - the two dogs she'd had to leave behind in her head. She knew that a few miles away, her father and the woman she'd grown up thinking of as mom were probably snug in bed, discussing the goings on at their separate works. Perhaps they talked about her. She'd known they would be devastated when she disappeared - and then when a body that was supposedly hers would have shown up. But she also knew they'd go on. She just hoped they'd managed to go on and be happy - and not spend their remaining days dwelling on it.

She watched out the window as the van moved quickly through the streets - heading for the airport. They passed Jack Astor's - her favorite haunt - and the location that Michael had tried to pick her up. Kristie smiled. It was more like she picked him up. Was her favorite bar tenders still there? Would they remember what she drank if she walked in?  

They reached the airport, and Kristie continued to watch out the window, drinking in the sites of the place she'd called home - until the ramp doors on the Section One plane closed, swallowing them up.

She sat back, pushed the memories back deep into her mind, and turned to look back at Stephen. This was her life now, he was her family - and Section One was home. North Carolina was just a fond, bittersweet memory.

"Michael," A male voice said.

Alexandra woke up instantly, sitting up in her seat. The voice sounded strained.

It was the pilot - over the intercom.

"We have a storm front coming in off the ocean, there's no way we can go around it, or over it on the fuel we have, we have to put down - and it's looking like the Ivory Coast."

"Has Operations been informed?" Michael asked quietly.

"Yeah - wasn't too happy, but he couldn't argue with the fuel gauge," The pilot told him.

"How long will we be grounded?" Michael asked.

"About 8 hours," The pilot replied, "unless the weather service is dreadfully wrong - which is about half the time."

Alexandra rolled her head back, and then reached up to massage sore muscles, "I've got a nice crick in my neck. Any chance we can talk Section into putting those seats on the planes like they have in first class commercial flights - the ones that you can stretch out and sleep in?"

Michael knew she was just kidding. But he didn't think it was such a bad idea either. But he also knew Section wouldn't do it.

"Turn and face the wall," Michael urged her gently.

Alexandra did as she was told, and she felt Michael's hands start to massage her neck and shoulders. She felt oddly uncomfortable with him doing this - but only for a moment until she felt her muscles start to ease and relax. Things would always be different - since that mission in Bangkok where they'd been forced into having sex - but at least they'd been able to salvage their strained friendship - odd as it was. She'd never call him

"Anything fun to do in the Ivory Coast area for 8 hours?" Alexandra asked him.

"There are restaurants, clubs, markets," Michael told her, "I'll release the team for 6 hours in civilian clothes."

"All I've got on me are my Euros," Alexandra told him.

"They take anything," Michael assured her.

"This is the shop you bought Nikita's ring in?" Alexandra asked, surprised. It looked like a crack house to her - or at least - a variation of one. The door was steel and the windows had steel panels over them. It looked like a fortress that had been shored up, many times.

Michael banged on the door, waiting for his old friend to look out and recognize him.

"The crime rate is high in this area," Michael replied.

The small panel on the door flipped open, and Michael saw Hassan's eyes peer out at him.

"Michel," he said, "In town again - business or pleasure?"

"Pleasure," Michael replied, "I've brought a friend."

The panel slid closed, and the door opened up. Alexandra recognized the man. He'd been at Michael and Nikita's wedding.

"The redhead! Ah hah! Does Nikita know you're on holiday with this one?" Hassan asked, his tone teasing.

"We're delayed because of that storm off the coast," Michael told him, "We were . . . working . . . before."

"Say no more," Hassan said, "Come in - it's so damned hot and humid outside. Allah is punishing us for our sins with this weather."

They stepped through the door, and watched as Hassan went through the steps to secure it again. Cool dry air enveloped them, and Alexandra breathed deeply.

"Come - back to the shop - are you looking or buying today Michel?"

"That depends on what you have," Michael replied.

Alexandra smiled, listening to the easy banter between Michael and the Jeweler. There was obviously some history here.

They were taken into another room, and Hassan laid out several trays of Jewelry. They talked about the Jewelry for a little while, and then Michael picked out a pair of earrings with blue jewels in them - the same hue as Nikita's eyes. They were wrapped in a soft cloth, which Michael tucked inside a pocket. They left shortly there after, and browsed through the open markets.

Alexandra bought a few trinkets, and an outfit Michael prayed she'd never wear in section - only at her home with Darren. He said nothing, other than to suggest a color. They ate a light meal at an open-air café, did a little more shopping and started back towards the airport.

24 hours later . . .

"What's this?" Nikita asked, when Michael pressed the cloth wrapped tiny package into her hand.

"Something for my wife," Michael replied softly, his voice silky smooth - like a caress. His lips brushed hers; "We had to wait out a storm on the Ivory Coast."

Nikita laughed, "I bet that just made operations day."

Michael smiled a little, remembering the irritated look on Operations face when his team got off the transport with packages in hand. They'd all shopped like madmen. He was guilty of it too though - and he'd encouraged Alexandra - a lot.

"Oh Michael!" Nikita exclaimed, when the delicate gold and light blue gem earrings appeared in the layers of cloth, "They're beautiful!"

She quickly slid the earrings into her ears, "How do they look?"

"Beautiful," Michael replied, his lips brushing hers again, "But not as beautiful as you."

Nikita pulled him back, kissing him hungrily - and then breaking the kiss, "I've got 24 hours down time - I almost fell over when I got the email."

"So do I," Michael told her, "Go change into the black floor length gown - I've made reservations at the Palisades."

Alexandra could hear Pepe's little nails tapping on the hard wood floors as he walked around Darren's apartment. She knew what he was heading for - his food bowel, and water dish. She'd filled them a moment ago. Then, she'd gone into his bedroom, and changed into the outfit she'd bought.

It was a pair of silky pants, gathered at the waist and ankles - made of a translucent sapphire blue material, over silk thong panties. You had to look closely to see through the pants though. The top was a low cut, halter style affair, made of the same sapphire blue silk the thong panties were made of, and it fit snuggly, leaving little to the imagination. She pulled her hair up into a pony tail on top of her head, securing it with a gold tone clasp designed for just that, and then she lined her eyes with black eye liner. After her look was completed, she set about lighting candles all around the living room, and then arranged herself on the sofa.

Darren groaned when he saw the email message. He'd been delayed with some training issues with one of the recruits he was overseeing - and he hadn't checked his email right away. By now, Alexandra had been waiting for him for several hours. He headed for the exit.

When he reached his building, the windows were almost completely dark - with just a faint glow. It was late, the apartment was dark - she'd probably fallen asleep.

He let himself in quietly, the only sound coming from the key in the lock. The door silently swung open, and he stepped through, closing it behind him. In the dim light, he could see Pepe stand up in his little dog bed, his tail wagging furiously. Darren silently moved by him, gently scrubbing the little dogs back with his fingertips. He could see Alexandra's arm on the backrest of the sofa, and some of her red hair, but that was it. He silently walked around the sofa, his eye's taking in the site in front of him. She was stretched out, legs parted. One leg dangling off the sofa, the other knee bent, and leaning against the sofa back. The outfit she wore was sapphire blue, the pants sheer, revealing a scrap of material that served as panties underneath. The top was also sapphire blue, opaque like the panties, halter top style and low cut, framing the full curves of her breasts.

There were several beer bottles sitting empty on the coffee table. Darren wondered how long ago she'd started drinking - and how drunk she would still be when he woke her up.

He bent down on one knee; his mouth pressed a wet kiss to the flesh of her stomach.

She stirred, and woke up, her movements uncoordinated, clumsy.

"Huh? Darren?" she murmured her speech slightly slurred. Darren smiled. She'd drank quite recently apparently.

"No, just a local terrorist come to ravage you in his place," Darren teased her.

"Hmm . . . thought you weren't coming," she murmured, her hand stroking down the back of his head, sliding into his hair, "Sometimes I worry you've lost interest."

Darren pulled her up, so she was sitting, one leg on either side of him. His hands rested on her waist, his mouth brushed hers, and "I'm not losing interest Querrida I got held up with something is all."

She smiled a little, and moved to kiss him again. Darren met her half way, his mouth molding to hers, sliding his hands up her body, moving over her breasts, his hands gently squeezing.

He pulled her body towards him, slid his hands under her butt, and lifted her off the sofa, intent on taking her into his bedroom.

"You don't have to do this," she murmured, "if you don't want to."

Darren sighed. Little things came out when she'd been drinking - that she would keep to herself if she hadn't been. It hurt sometimes, to know how vulnerable she was when it came to him.

He set her down on his bed, and lit only one small lamp in the room. She leaned back, her hair mussed and half out the clasp. Cheeks flushed, lips slightly parted, she looked incredibly sexy to Darren - and at the same time Darren knew she was having doubts.

He pulled off his shirt, tossing it onto the floor. He watched her eye's slid down his body, watched her react to seeing his bare flesh. He smiled.

"Alex," he murmured, shedding his jeans, "Where did you get this outfit?"

She watched every movement his made, but she answered, if a bit slowly, "Ivory Coast. We got stuck there because of a storm front."

We - as in she and Michael. Darren had heard that their team had gotten an unexpected 9 hour lay over. He hadn't thought much about it, but when she said

Now, clad only in his boxer shorts, he reached for the gathered waist of her pants, starting to slide them down over her hips.

"Lift up," he urged her gently.

A dark look flitted across her eyes; "You don't like it?"
Darren stopped, "I like it - it's cute - I wouldn't want you wearing it in Section of course . . ."

"We saw a dancer inside this café - I was gonna do a little routine for you - but I think I drank to much . . ."

Darren sighed. She was really fucked up. It had been over a year since this last happened, and the last time it happened, other things were happening too. They'd gotten into a raging fight too.

But she lifted her hips, and Darren slide the pants down over her hips, carefully pulling them off of her, along with the thong panties.

"So why are you taking it off?" she asked tentatively.

He'd just unlaced the top. He didn't stop, but his movements where deliberate, careful.

"Baby, I come home finding you in this belly dancer style fuck my brains out get up, and I've been fighting this raging hard on, and I know what if I start anything with you still wearing this, I'll end up ripping it to shreds," he told her.

The top came loose, and she clumsily helped him pull it off of her, and pushed herself towards him.

Darren slid one of his hands between her thighs; his fingers intent on stroking the tender flesh nestled there. The folds of sensitive skin parted for him.  She moaned softly, already wet, the anticipation alone had been more than enough. He pulled her up to straddle his thighs, sheathing himself in side her, the tight fit threatening to make him loose control.

"Oh," she moaned, arching her back. Darren felt her nipples brush his chest, the tight hard little buds made him throb within her. He wanted to make this last, but he was fighting himself already.

His mouth slanted across hers, his tongue delving between her parted lips, stroking hers, tasting her. He slid one hand between them, his fingers stroking across one of her nipples, pinching it just slightly between his fingers. She bucked against him, and Darren felt her body tighten and tremble around him, her orgasm taking over, for a few ecstatic moments.

He held onto her for a few moments, letting her body come down from it's high, then he pulled out of her, turning her around. Instinctively, she knew what he wanted, turning onto her hands and knee's.

Darren slid back into her, grasping her hips, tilting them at just the right angle, pushing deep inside her. He drew back, and then thrust back into her, no longer being gentle. She didn't need him to be, and they'd both enjoy it more if he were a little rougher. He pounded into her again and again, fighting and struggling with himself, until he felt her body start to clench around him. He let himself go, feeling his own body spasm and convulse, keeping himself sheathed deep within her.

They collapsed down onto the bed, a tangled mess of arms, and legs, their bodies slick from their exertions.

Darren kissed her deeply, tenderly, holding her close, "I love you so much Querrida."
"Love you to," she murmured, already sliding into a deep sleep.

Darren heard something moving on the floor, and he reached down with one hand, scooping up the Chihuahua. Pepe would start to complain eventually if he Darren didn't bring him up with him. Pepe settled down immediately, choosing a pillow next to Alexandra's head.

But while Alexandra almost instantly passed out, Darren was wide-awake, his mind racing with worries. He had recruits that just weren't getting it in some of their classes, level 1 and 2 operatives with various quirks. Then there was Alex. Alex who one moment was strong and independent, and then the next moment, seemed ready to fall apart. But he had his moments too. He watched some of the other men watch her, felt jealously rear it's ugly head. When she'd mentioned shopping with Michael, he'd felt the fingers of Jealousy tearing at his heart - even though he knew Michael was very married and in love with Nikita, and Alexandra was totally in love with Darren alone. It would have been totally innocent - but still, it bothered Darren a little.

She moaned softly in her sleep, and pressed into him a little more. Darren watched her for a little while longer, until he could finally drift off to sleep himself.

"Call her cell phone again," Madeline told Birkhoff nodded, and redialed the number - again. Again - there was no answer.

"Should I send someone out?" Birkhoff asked.

Madeline was quiet for a moment. Neither Kristie nor Stephen was answering any phone. Not their home phones, not their cellular numbers. Teddy bear had spent last night here, instead of going home with Kristie. Someone had said that they had dinner plans, but that Kristie had planned to come back and retrieve the Rott before they went home for the evening.

But they never came back, and no one thought it odd enough to check.

"Call in Michael, Nikita, Alex, Darren, Kim, and Tony. Send out a sweeper team to both their apartments," Madeline told him.

She was blindfolded, her wrists bound and tied to the top corners of the bed. He hadn't tied her ankles down to anything, only because he didn't have enough scarves to tie them with the right leverage.

He'd promised to remedy that soon though.

But for the moment, she was still blinded, and felt totally at his mercy - and it gave her a dark thrilling sensation - especially when she felt his hair graze her body.

She felt his fingers sliding deep inside her, his thumb stroked over her clit, his breath hot and moist on her breast, his tongue wet velvet as he teased her nipple.

She trembled, waves of pleasure making her whole body shiver under him.

"This would make a great picture," he murmured, his mouth hovering over hers, "Open your mouth."

Her lips parted, and he stroked his tongue along her lips, then nipped at her lower lip. Then his mouth pulled away from hers, and his fingers pulled out of her, and he pushed her legs wide apart, just enough so she could feel a bit of strain. He lowered his mouth to her, his tongue stroking and lapping up the sweet taste that was uniquely hers.

Darren heard her moan softly, and he smiled, his tongue stroking over her clit. He did it again, this time sucking the sensitive flesh between his lips. She gasped, and writhed under him.

The phone rang.

"Shit," Darren swore. He reared up, reached for the phone. He grabbed it up, but he didn't hit the on button just yet.

It rang a second time, and he pushed his swollen shaft inside her abruptly, feeling her body stretch around him, squeeze him. She moaned, and shuddered under him.

Darren clicked the answer button on, catching it on the third ring.

"Yeah? . . . right this second . . . . fucking Alex . . . . no I'm not shitting you, I've got her tied up right now . . . . no I'm not . . . ."

"Hang up that phone!" Alexandra snarled, bucking her hips, straining against the scarves she was tied with.

Darren started to pump in and out of her, pushing deep inside her each time, not enough to really hurt her, but enough to come close.

"Seriously…no... I wish I was taping it, and I wish you'd tell me why you called so I can get back to it, I'm not real good at fucking and talking at the same time . . . . uh no . . .. a few days ago . . . maybe they're fucking in some cabin someplace without a phone . . . because if I don't answer the phone, you'll call my cell, and then I'd have to go get it, and it's on the far side of the room . . . . yes I am, but she loves it . . . . ok - we'll be there, eventually."

He hung up the phone.

Alexandra heard the phone hit the floor, and Darren's thrusts started to come faster, harder.

"Oooohhhhh!" she gasped.

Darren's body came down on hers, his hands sliding up her body; his mouth covered hers, his kiss, hungry, passionate.

"Come for me Querrida," he said, in Spanish, "You feel so tight, so wet."

His mouth brushed hers.

"And I love the way you taste," he whispered as his lips and tongue moved to her neck, just below her ear.

He felt her orgasm hit her, her body convulsing under his, and he let his own orgasm take him, coming deep inside her.

It was a few minutes later, that he untied her wrists, pulled the blind fold off of her eyes, and kissed her - gently this time.

"Who the hell were you talking to?" she asked him, still lying in his arms, her body still weak from their exertions.

"Nikita," Darren told her.

Alexandra groaned, "I can't believe to you told her we were having sex - let alone how we were having sex."

Darren stroked her back with his hands, grinning ear to ear, "I wish we had video taped it."

Alexandra felt a faint trace of lust race through her at the idea - even after the hours of foreplay and sex, just a suggestion, and she was almost ready to go again.

"Next time - so what did she call about? We're still technically on down time," Alexandra reminded him

"No one can find Kris or Stephen," Darren told her, "They probably turned their phones off for the duration of their down time."

Alexandra sighed, "Probably - I guess we should get into the shower - since they're expecting us now . . ."

Kim still had wet hair and no makeup on when Alexandra and Darren met up with her and Tony in the conference room. She also had one of those satisfied; cat that ate the cream looks on her face as well. Alexandra flopped down in one of the chairs, and set Pepe down on her lap. Then she discretely rubbed her wrists under the table. They were a little chaffed. Her muscles were a little sore; in fact, most of her was a little tender right now. Darren sat down next to her, and seeing what she was doing, he gently took one wrist in his hand, looking down at the faint red marks.

"Sorry," he said softly.

"Don't be," Alexandra replied, "I'm not."

Michael and Nikita walked in. Alexandra pulled her wrist out of Darren's grasp. Darren smiled. Nikita looked over at him, one eyebrow raised. Darren's wicked grin grew wider.

Madeline walked in a few moments later.

"You all know why you're here," Madeline began, "I want to know when the last contact each of you had with Kristie or Stephen was."