***AUTHOR'S NOTE*** I'd say this little scene takes place after LOVE...

Nikita clomped up the stairs ahead of Michael, trailing her fingers along the bannister. "So far, Michael, the only things we've found that are out of the ordinary are five cases of grape soda, a shoe horn, and -" Nikita paused as she passed by a night table in the master bedroom. "And," she continued, scooping up a magazine, "Playgirl."

She flipped through the pages, stopping at a particularly interesting photo, and held it up for Michael's perusal. "I don't think that position's possible, do you?"

Michael rose from a squat on the other side of the bed, one black-gloved hand brushing the flower-patterned coverlet. He tugged at the lapels of his leather trench coat while his green eyes took in the centerfold Nikita had extended. His face was an inscrutable mask as he tucked an unruly curl behind his ear.

His eyes flicked up and met hers over the magazine. An eyebrow raised a fraction.

Nikita snorted and made sure to put the magazine down exactly as she had found it. She wondered if anything in there could possibly compare to what was hiding under Michael's close-fitting gear.

"Birkoff, we're moving out. There's no sign of the explosives," Michael said, moving around the bed silently.

"Okay, Michael, we're -" Birkoff's voice cut off in their ears, replaced by the beep of an alarm and a low muttering sound.

"Birkoff?"

"Hold position, Michael. The target is approaching the house."

"How much time?" Michael asked, meeting Nikita's worried gaze.

"Five seconds. Get out of there," Birkoff said quickly.

Michael turned in a rapid circle, his eyes scanning the layout of the upstairs room. "Negative, Birkoff. No egress."

"Then you'll have to hibernate."

"Hibernate?" Nikita demanded, following Michael as he turned and moved down the hall.

"We hide," came his succinct answer. When the noise of an opening door reached their ears, Michael slipped into the next doorway. The bathroom.

"Where are we gonna hide?" Nikita whispered, gesturing with her hand. "The closet?"

Michael ignored her, reaching up an arm to carefully pull back the navy shower curtain. He stepped into the tub and waved his hand for Nikita to follow. She stepped in after him and tugged the shower curtain back, turning to find Michael lowering his lean body down. Nikita leaned forward to give him room, her hands flat on the tile, until his fingers tugged at her hips. He caught her when she fell and lowered her to his chest, her hands clutching at his shoulders.

Nose to nose.

Their legs were tangled with each other, her thigh riding dangerously high between his. The tub was about a foot too small for their long bodies.

Nikita moved her head to one side and pressed her lips to his ear. "Okay, Michael. I give. Why are we down here?" She pulled back slightly to see his face when he didn't answer.

His eyes flicked to the curtain. "Less chance of a shadow."

The stairs creaked and Nikita could feel Michael shifting under her, his ribbed sweater pressing through the thin rayon of her tank top. He moved his left hand down from her shoulder and splayed it across her lower back. The other hand insinuated itself between their bodies, his knuckles gliding across her abdomen as he drew his gun from its holster. Nikita felt the warm metal slide across her ribs; Michael brought the gun up next to his temple, grazing the side of her breast in the process.

Nikita tensed as someone passed the bathroom door, humming lightly. She squirmed over the length of Michael's muscled body, trying to be better prepared for an attack if it came, and ruthlessly ignored the tingling of her nerve ends.

She halted her movements when Michael's hand on her back pressed down firmly, locking their hips together. Nikita turned her head and found Michael regarding her with his eyes half-lidded.

Nikita froze, so close she could feel his warm breath on her skin. Unaccountably, she remembered the kiss she had shared with her trainer on their last mission. The way his hair had felt under her fingers as she had drawn his head down. The way his full lips had instantly parted as she tasted him for the first time. Even knowing they were under surveillace by that sub-human, Bauer, Nikita had enjoyed Michael's touch. His strength.

Just like now.

She had never really felt it before, that sense of female power, as first Bauer, and then Michael, responded to the sensualist she had portrayed. She wanted to feel it again. She wanted to be able to bite Michael's jaw with him powerless to respond. She wanted to know exactly how far she could go...

Mischievously, Nikita twitched her hips.

She felt his hand flatten along her spine, his fingers pressing against her skin where her shirt gapped from the waist band of her pants. Her ears buzzed as blood was rerouted, her senses heightening.

An expectation shivered through her.

The half-light that filtered through the shower curtain seemed to distort her reality, to shade his eyes with a peculiar green. Nikita could feel his heart beat beneath her. She could feel his chest rise and fall as he breathed.

His hand began to slide down, the rough pads of his fingers dipping below her waist band.

She stretched her neck and brushed her mouth over his. Once. Twice.

Each inhaling and exhaling with the other.

Emboldened, she flicked her tongue along the seam of his mouth. Traced the lush curve of his lower lip. Circled around the 'm' shape of his upper lip.

She felt his heart thudding faster, keeping pace with her own.

Nikita began to draw back, wanting to see his face. Michael followed her, his mouth seeking. Unwilling to let her off so easily.

Their mouths met and slanted together, tentatively opening to taste.

And then to devour.

They suckled on each other's lips, tongues sliding over warm, smooth skin and hard teeth. Nikita gave a soft gasp and Michael stole the breath from her, their mouths opening wider. Fingers dug and fisted fabric. Spines arched. Their mouths angled for more.

Each breathing frantically, struggling to get enough...

"You're clear."

Nikita pulled away abruptly, their mouths parting with a soft murmur of suction.

"Michael?"

She stared down at him, unconsciously licking her lips to taste him there. Michael blinked once, his long lashes lowering and rising.

"We're on our way, Birkoff," he said softly.

Nikita shivered as she felt his voice rumble through his chest. Belatedly, she unclenched her fingers from his jacket. A small smile shadowed his lips.

"After you, Nikita."

Nikita cleared her throat and began to climb off his warm body.

She had discovered how far she could push him.

And now she wanted to push him farther.

THE END

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