Nikita slouched down on the old chrome and vinyl kitchen chair and stretched her legs out. Unwinding her hair from its disheveled topknot, she dropped her head back and ran her aching fingers through the tangled mess. With exhaustion creeping through every muscle and sinew, even that was an effort.

The screen door creaked open as Michael walked in with a bundle of split wood in his arms. He dropped it into the bin next to the big wood burning stove and, peeling off his heavy work gloves, sat in the chair opposite her.

"How's the cow?" Nikita asked, eyes closed and arms criss-crossed over her head.

"She'll be fine," he answered softly, "I just have to make sure there's no infection."

Opening her eyes, Nikita rested her tired gaze on him. Life on a farm was a lot different than she had imagined, particularly Michael's farm which was as basic as one could get. No electricity and no running water basic. They had arrived mid morning two days ago. Michael had given the couple who looked after his farm a few days off so he and Nikita could be alone. Yesterday, their first full day here, she had fetched the eggs and then did a little weeding in the vegetable garden while he had ridden out on the tractor to inspect his property. Feeling useless, Nikita insisted that there must be something more she could do.

So, today Michael had grabbed some rope and the chain saw and invited her down to the pasture. They spent the better part of the morning and afternoon breaking up a beaver dam that was reducing the small creek through the pasture to a trickle. It was hard work but Nikita found herself enjoying the physical exertion, much to her surprise. She also enjoyed watching Michael work, the muscles in his powerful arms and shoulders flexing beneath the white undershirt as he dragged a log out of the water.

By the time they were finished, Nikita was tired but in an odd, contented sort of way. Granted, missions often required a fair amount of physical effort but they never left her feeling tired in a good way. Michael had rounded up the four cows then the two of them plus the little herd slowly made their way along the quarter mile back to the barn.

It was after Michael completed the evening milking that the accident had happened. Somehow, as he was ushering the cows into the corral for the night, the smallest one had been jostled against the open gate. Nikita was pouring milk into the battered tin pie plate for the barn cats when she heard the terrified bellowing of the animal and Michael shouting for her. When she got to the corral it looked as if the cow was pinned to the gate but she couldn't tell how. There was so much blood running down the side of its head. Michael had worked his way between the animal and the gate, his arm around the cow's neck, trying to hold her head still.

"The workshed. I need the rope and the wire cutters. Quickly." He issued the order in the tone of voice that no Section operative would dare disobey.

When Nikita returned with the items, Michael had her loop the rope around the cow's neck in a slip knot then hold her end as tightly as she could. He warned her to be prepared. Bracing herself as well as she could in the churned muck of the corral, Nikita waited for Michael to loosen his hold of the cow. As soon as he let go, the frightened animal yanked her head away but still could not get clear. Nikita's arms burned with the exertion of trying to keep the rope taut, fighting against the strength of the panicking cow. Michael quickly tied his end around a fence post as the animal strained to free herself, eyes rolling in fear.

Grasping the cutters, he snipped the length of loose barbed wire that had ripped through the cow's ear when she was pushed against the gate. His hands scarlet with blood, Michael pulled the wire by its hooked end clean through the ear. Then, swiftly untying the rope from the post, he loosened the slip knot and pulled it over the animal's head. Free from her terrifying ordeal, the little cow bounded into the corral with a kick of her hooves.

"You did a good job," Michael said calmly, gathering up the rope. "Thank you."

Distress filled Nikita's voice. "God, that was horrible, Michael. How did it happen? Will she be okay?"

"Everything will be fine. She got pushed into the gate, that's all. Why don't you go back to the house? I'll finish up here."

Realizing there was nothing more she could do, Nikita acquiesced. She trudged back to the farmhouse thinking about the cow and how stiff and sore she was going to be tomorrow.

Michael rose from his chair and started to build a fire in the stove. Checking the kettle, he filled it with water from the pump then put it back on the cast iron plate above the growing fire.

"Would you like something to eat?" he asked as he peeled off the filthy undershirt. Pumping water into the basin, Michael soaked a washcloth and scrubbed the dried blood off his torso, goosebumps breaking out on his skin from the cold water.

Nikita groaned. "I'm too tired to eat. All I want is a nice, hot bath and then crawl into bed and sleep for the next thousand years." Pausing, she realized what she said. "Oh hell, I forgot. There's no running water. Well, then I'll just take the bed."

Drying himself off, the corner of Michael's mouth curved up, his green eyes sparkling. "I think we can do something about that. Take your clothes off."

A questioning eyebrow raised, Nikita remained seated. She never thought she'd hear herself say this, but if he wanted to get frisky, she was just too tired.

Reading her thoughts, Michael smiled, "What I meant is, I'm going to give you a bath."

While Nikita crawled out of her clothes and put her hair up again, Michael brought in the big metal wash tub and put it on the floor in front of the stove. Pouring boiling water from the kettle into a pail, he added cold water until it was the perfect bath temperature. Then, taking Nikita's hand, he swept his other arm over the empty tub.

"Milady, your bath awaits."

He bowed slightly at the waist, Not wearing anything to curtsy with, Nikita nodded haughtily and stepped into the tub with a laugh. Standing with her head bent forward, she felt the hot water sluicing over her neck and shoulders, running down her back and legs. Michael worked the soap into a lather, then putting it aside, began to bathe Nikita.

Tenderly, his hands slid over her wet shoulders and back, slowly washing her creamy skin in small circles. Long fingers kneaded the knots in her sore shoulders and neck and pressed down along her spine, easing the kinks in her back. Nikita closed her eyes, feeling Michael's rough soapy hands slide over her bottom and down along the back of her legs. When he reached her calves, he gently pressed against the tight muscles with his thumbs. Taking the bar of soap in his hands, he washed each foot, while she held his shoulder for balance. When he was done, Michael emptied the rest of the pail over Nikita's back, the soapy water splashing into the tub. Circling her head from shoulder to shoulder, she stretched the relaxed muscles.

"Mmmm, Michael, that felt so good, " she purred. She felt like she could fall asleep where she stood.

"Turn around. The stove heat will dry your back and keep you warm," he replied, a small smile touching his lips as he refilled the pail.

"Yes, boss," she murmured and was answered by a smack on her rump.

Nikita's damp skin glistened in the golden light pouring through the window. She watched as Michael washed her arms. Tilting her head up slightly as his soapy hands moved over her shoulders and up her neck, Nikita looked through drowsy eyes directly into Michael's and her breath caught in her throat. Desire filled the emerald green eyes as his gaze moved from her eyes to her lush mouth and his supple hands continued to slide over her wet, pliant body.

How many times had he felt her silky skin under his hands, her slender curves fitting into his palms, her body trembling as she surrendered to him? However many times it happened, it would never be enough. He could feel her heart beat faster under his fingers as they lightly caressed the underside of her breasts, his thumbs brushing over the rosy tips. Leaving a trail of bubbles behind, slowly one hand moved lower over her smooth, taut belly and then lower again. Michael watched Nikita's face flush with pleasure as she moved against his agile fingers, her breath quick and shallow through parted lips. Holding the small of her back with his other hand, he lowered his mouth to her shoulder and grazed his teeth against the tender skin, then bit down gently. Nikita whimpered as she buried both hands in his thick curls.

"Oh Christ, Michael. What are you doing to me?" she gasped as his fingers continued their delicious torment.

His breath warm against her ear, he whispered, "Making you forget how tired you are."

Looking again into her exquisite face, her blue eyes stormy with passion, he crushed his mouth against hers. Closer and closer, Nikita could feel herself reaching the edge of the precipice as she abandoned herself to Michael's tantalizing hand, his ravishing tongue. Closer...and closer...until... She clutched Michael's shoulders as a conflagration exploded through her and she was swept over the edge and drifted downward into nothingness.

At last, Nikita opened her eyes. Michael gazed at her luminous face then gently brushed her mouth with his.

"You're so beautiful when you come," he murmured against her lips, his eyes shining into hers.

Smiling like the proverbial Cheshire cat, Nikita stretched her arms over her head then rested them over Michael's shoulders as his hands slid down to her waist.

Running the tip of her tongue over his succulent bottom lip, she replied huskily, "Take off your clothes."

FINIS

Send suggestions and comments to ranma.