one life to live
no time to pretend
no win no loss
no heroes in the end
no dreams no plans no promises

young lover
just turn out the lights
one kiss
one softly whispered yes
no talk oh no, no tears
no hearts to repossess
no names no chains no hostages

young lover
just turn out the lights
slip under the cover
of the night
young lover young lover young lover
everything's all right

no dreams no plans no promises

Gino Vanelli

I have asked myself why Michael, of all people, has let himself become involved in the lives of civilians. I was sure he would have been the last. Maybe those years with Elena and Adam are the cause. He must have had more than casual contact with the outside world, formed a few friendships with neighbours and others. I know Section didn't force him to remain isolated while in the marriage, because it would have seemed abnormal and damaged his cover. Elena spoke sometimes of people she knew socially from church or her single life before meeting Michael. She had the odd night out with the girls and asked people over to dinner. They lived like real people when he was at home.

I think Michael, though on guard at all times, may have come to like human contact.

Of course the handful of old men he plays chess with and a nun hardly count as a huge circle of friends. I know Father Peter Ambrose was the one who got Michael involved with the children at the home. The children are mostly the young victims of recent war, poverty and bad government. Michael says they are the lucky ones in a way. Even thought they have lost their families, there are a lot more children still in danger, still trying to survive under terrible conditions. Bringing children to St. Anthony's and finding them a place to be warm and safe and loved was Father Ambrose's life quest. Now Sister Rebecca carries the torch for him.

And she continues to see that Michael, lonely and shy young business man she perceives him to be remains involved in their lives. I think she wants to adopt him out, too. She nags him to get out, apparently. Asks him if he has a steady woman friend yet. Invites him to the Children's home for birthday parties. The very idea that he goes somewhere and has fun sometimes fills me with awe.

He has invited me to come this Sunday evening.

I'm not sure. I have my druthers about it. Mixing with people hasn't been good for me. Last week a really nice young woman asked me if I'd like to get coffee with her. I have seen her on a number of occasions in the grocery store and passed her as she jogged by, as her home is not far from mine. She got stranded last week after he car broke down and after meeting her in line at Starbuck's I offered her a ride to her office downtown.

I had the feeling from her warm smile and her easy conversation, that she might like to form a friendship and though I really need someone to talk to, to gossip with, I found myself being cold to her. Dashing her simple request. It all comes down to fear of that unknown entity that lurks in all strangers. I prefer to keep my relationships with operatives now.

Michael smiled at me in a briefing today. It bowled me over. Operations saw it and frowned. He knows that Michael and I are growing closer. It's funny. It used to be me that pushed, tried to flirt with him, make him want me. Now I am the hesitant party and he is the one who gives steamy stares from across the room.

We have to resist. There have been no valentine missions planned lately where we can pretend to be normal people who love each other.

I don't know how I can stand it. I want him. I want to feel his skin against mine again, his mouth on me. I look at him sometimes and feel I will combust. Go up in flames. One day they'll find nothing but my scorched feet in a pair of size ten Prada boots.

There seem to have be no valentine missions on the horizon where we can pretend to be people who are free to love one another. I don't see how we can endure this much longer. I get the feeling that Madeline has relaxed her position somewhat, but something inside me doesn't trust what I see. Operations remains very down on our pairing in anything but the work environment.

I hate to say this, but after Marc and Angela, and seeing the horror of what happened to them, I have learned a thing or two. I almost see Section's side of it. If some terrorist even made a move for one of Michael's fingernails, I think now I would tell them whatever they wanted. I could not watch anyone hurt him.

I have learned something else today. Operations is talking about sending me to Lisbon. I have not requested a transfer but it seems there is an opening there for a strategist. I shudder about being sent away from Michael. He is aware of the talk and says that he will not let it happen. I think he is not being realistic. What can he do if the big head wants me out?

The vehemence in his tone thrilled me. The look in his jade eyes told me he would not let me go. It scared me, too, his determination. I do not want him to put himself at risk going up against Ops for me. Michael has changed so much lately. He takes far more risks on my behalf.

I don't know what I will do if they separate us. I can't imagine the emptiness in my life if I can't see him.

I was thinking about it when he called this morning. Lisbon. I was trying to imagine the good things. Sun. Warm weather all year. A night life. Apparently the Lisbon office is not so busy, not so much in the thick of things. And Michael could come to me if he had a large block of downtime.

One week to be together every few months if we were lucky. He'd forget me. After a time he wouldn't care any more.

My phone rang three times before I picked up. It was Michael. As usual my heart turned over just at the sound of his voice. He was asking again if I could come to St. Anthony's. It was a birthday party for a little boy called Zoltan. Michael is fond of the child because he is so much like Adam, a bright little imp, turning six. There is apparently another cause for celebration, a Canadian couple has decided to adopt one of the girls, an fourteen year old from Albania called Sofia. It also seems that Rebecca is dying to meet me and Michael says that if I come it will get her off his case.

I said yes. I have a very hard time turning him down when he turns on the charm.

I have a hard time turning him down when he's less than charming.

So what does one buy a six year old boy anyway? I was a little worried about it. I don't really know what boys like. I looked at X-men and Star Wars and Lego. There are a million toys I've never even heard of. I almost bought a truck and then I thought not because Adam had been obsessed with tonka trucks and I didn't want to remind him. I decided on three Disney videos. I figured that all of the kids could watch them.

Michael came to the door in jeans and a dark brown suede Tommy Hilfiger shirt. Only Michael would dare to wear a brown suede shirt to a kid's birthday. All that cake and ketchup and mustard about to get smeared on suede. I'd bet a bundle he'd manage to stay clean, too. I have to think that he did it to torment me. I kept imagining what those muscles of his would feel like under that butter, soft leather covering. Just looking at how the fabric draped over his wide shoulders and how the shirt tails flowed over his narrow hips was enough to send me into spasms.

" You look-uh-nice, Michael, " was about all I could manage to croak out.

" Thanks," he said. " You look pretty nice, yourself."

So much for awkward moments. This was not really a date. It was a kid's birthday. I suddenly felt a little self-conscious in my plain black dress and boots. A little too Section like. I could have chosen something more playful to wear. Maybe I was trying to tell myself to keep my distance. And if I looked unapproachable and untouchable, I would feel that way. Why did he have to come looking so touchable? I wanted to pet him. Like a cat. Til he purred. Til I purred.

I want him to pet me, too.

I left him in the kitchen and went back to my room and took a soft pink cashmere cardigan out of the closet. I put it on over the black dress rather than taking the blazer I had planned on. He wasn't the only one who could send messages here.

This is a mistake, was what I was thinking when I saw his wry grin.

I picked up the gayly wrapped present from the counter.

He smiled at me. " You didn't have to buy anything, Kita."

I shrugged. " I never get the chance to shop for kids. It was fun. I got something they all could share. I feel sorry for parents, especially the not so well-off ones. All that merchandise and kids wanting everything. I saw a few temper tantrums in the store. Mommy. Mommy. Buy me this. I'll bet child-rearing is hard nowadays. Used to be if I threw a tantrum, Bobbie would tan my butt.

" It's hard sometimes. I hope Elena isn't spoiling Adam too much. I never wanted him to have everything he wanted. Sometimes it's better to have a few wishes left unfulfilled."

That's easy for you to say, I was thinking.

" Sometimes, though, it's nice to know you can have something if you really want it. If you long for it," he said in that husky French accent.

His eyes seemed to take a very lazy trip down the front of me and all the way up. As if he was telling me that he wanted to have his wish fulfilled. I just took a deep breath and looked at that brown suede covered chest, so wide, so firm, so smooth. I wished ...

I think I must have looked like a little kid with her nose pressed up against the window of the confectionary, eyeing the candy.

" Did Roberta give you parties? " he asked.

" Not really. I'm sure I wasn't missing much. Roberta's idea of a party was a six-pack and a carton of smokes."

" These children have so little they appreciate everything, " Michael said softly. " you'll like them all, Kita." He opened the door and I shut out the lights, exiting before him. As I brushed past him I caught the scent of his soap and shampoo and the erotic, animal smell of suede leather and man. He put his hand on the small of my back as we walked down the hall. I really tried to relax but it was not easy. It was going to be a very long evening.

Michael's present was an extravagant one. A computer and all of the latest CD rom games. They had only had a small P.C. before and it wasn't powerful enough for Internet access. I was a little surprised at his generosity and told him so.

" Won't Section ask questions when they check your expenditures for this month? "

" Section won't find out," he told me as he maneuvered his car through four o'clock traffic. He was not driving his usual Mercedes sports model. He told me that when he went to St. Anthony's he usually drove a rental. He didn't want to appear to be too wealthy.

" I have my way of getting around the Section watchdogs."

Oh, Michael, I'm sure you do.

I know Michael's usual cover is that he is in the computer field. I just nodded and watched the road. A few minutes later we pulled up to an ivy covered building with a wrought iron gate. It was nice as far as institutions go. I spent two weeks once in a children's facility after I ran away for the first time, while the courts decided if I should be sent to foster care or not. I was around eleven. That place had been cold and sterile, foreboding. This looked more like a home.

" What are you thinking? " he asked. He had come around to open my side of the car. He was looking at my endless legs as I struggled to swing them out as gracefully as I could. He shut the door leaning in close enough so that he brushed me again with a suede covered shoulder. Did he have any idea how he was torturing me?

" Nice, isn't it? I like old buildings."

" That this isn't anything like the Child Welfare Institution I stayed in at one time. I was apprehended for a couple of weeks when I was around eleven."

He studied at my face. " You must have been scared."

" Yes, well, I was often scared as a kid." I sighed and shrugged. " I didn't have any stability, Michael. Any routine freaked me out. It didn't exist for me, at least not when Bobbie was drinking. I had a hard time with being in that place. Being told when to go to bed and when I had to brush my teeth. As you know, behaving myself isn't my strong suit."

I gave him a wan smile. I had to sound like I'm whining but it is so nice when someone will actually listen to me. And he is a good listener.

"You don't have to behave yourself on my account, Kita. I kind of like you when you're misbehaving."

I swallowed hard and wet my dry lips with my tongue. If he kept saying stuff like that, looking like that, I was going to run out of spit completely. He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, brushing the skin along my cheek bone softly with his lips.

Okay, I thought, I'm a goner.

I saw it then. A miracle. In his eyes. I saw what had been missing my entire life.

He loved me.

I pulled away slightly from him, shocked. I'd been squeezing the birthday package against my chest and the jaunty curled bow was beginning to look a wee bit sad. I looked up into his smiling eyes and my heart melted into a hot, leaden lump in my chest. Today at work he was monotone, one note Section Michael. The mysterious, meticulous man in the black suit. The man I know. I am comfortable with him. I know how to behave. I know what is expected of me. I know all about that cold, graceful deadly man, though I complain about him bitterly.

We argue. We plot. We hide. We play games. We speak mumbo-jumbo. We live according to their laws. Until now he seemed resigned to all of that.

Outside he was merely my sometime friend. He gave me crumbs. A trail to follow. He was my unrequited love object. My holy grail. My quest.

He was my David. The statue. The epitome of male beauty. I wanted to reach inside that marble breast and pluck out and aching, bleeding heart. A heart that echoed mine.

I told myself, that unlike him, I was not resigned to being Section's commodity. I told myself I was brave. Brave enough to take what I wanted. To defy. I told myself I could have him and not be afraid of what might happen to us. And I also told myself to expect nothing.

I told myself a lot of things.

And now here we were in the real world and this was no mission where we were pretending.

And now after all these years there it was in his eyes. Love. And hope. I never thought that I would truly see that, feel that, or know that from him.

I had never really seen love in his eyes before, even when he was making love to me, deep inside me, kissing me, whispering French phrases into my ear. Always something of his soul was held back, held captive, in that black void that is Section.

I only knew that man the other women have known. That devastatingly handsome charmer who has somehow overtakes that elegant, but robotic body. I took him out of desperation. He was there on that boat in Lyons. He was there in England and in Greece. He was perfect, a flawless lover, an expert in the art. But he was still one of them. He was still holding back and somehow that in itself was a comfort because it meant that I could have him, be with him, and not have to face reality.

This reality.

This love.

If I could be someone else, someone sitting high in a tree, I would look down on us and know that here were two people loved each other. I would also know which one was terrified.

He was the one who now accepted that love. He was the one who understood. Why was he doing such an about face? Why was he no longer afraid?

All the Section-speak was gone, the shadowed eyes, the mouth tightened in a grim line. Here I was, facing a stranger, a beautiful, captivating stranger with eyes that twinkled like summer sunlight on a water, his smile trembling at the corners of his shapely mouth. A stranger whom I have long dreamed of kissing, holding, telling my deepest secrets.

And now I was scared to death. Ready to run from exactly what I had been wanting.

I have known exactly what he meant to Section. What value he has. Why he is their most important possession. I know why they do not want to lose him. I have known how all of the women he has seduced have felt. Limp. Boneless. Ready to do anything, say anything just so he'll kiss them again.

I was one of them. Laying there panting like a velvet covered sexy steamroller had just flattened me. Happy as a pig in shit. For a while.

Until he'd turn that wide, unfathomably cold shoulder and I would fall to earth.

And now I know what it is to be loved by him.

Loved.

Michael loves me...

And I am devastated by it.

And I haven't the slightest idea where we go from here. Love in Section. A maze with no exits. A castle with no drawbridge.

There is nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide from them.

He tilted my chin up with his finger. Even that slight touch was enough to send tremors through me. How can I face danger every day and not blink an eye, yet he touches me like this and I come utterly unglued? How can I hide what I feel from them. How can he?

" Am I coming on too strong?" he asked, quite seriously. He was concerned. That little white line was there between his brows. The one that appears only sometimes. Like when the world is about to blow up. " Am I scaring you off? "

Is the pope Catholic?

You are a tsunami, Michael.

You are a red hot bullet pointed right at my heart. Too strong. Hardly the word.

Does he mean this? Does he? Because if I have been fooled by some monstrous new ploy, if this is another of his head games, I will die.

I could have used some divine guidance but none seemed forthcoming.

He steeled his jaw. " This is totally new to me and I don't know what to do, Kita. Tell me what to do."

I found my voice. " I don't know what to do either. Just don't say anything else. Not now."

" I have to tell you "

He never got to finish. We were suddenly under attack by about a hundred screaming little kids.

Maybe it was a good thing. I was a little afraid of what he was going to tell me.

I want us to be more than friends. I want us to wake up together every morning. I want to be your lover. I want you for my own.

I give myself to you. My heart, my body, my soul-- all yours. Do with them as you will.

And then I'd walk into Section and Ops would hand me my walking papers. You've won an all expenses paid transfer to Lisbon.

So much for love. Pack that suitcase.

Anyway, maybe it was more like ten little kids. They were noisy. Like heard of buffalo. They came out of nowhere and charged at him, followed by the small, laughing dark haired woman I'd seen drop him off at his loft a few weeks before. She was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt and certainly didn't look like a nun. Something about the woman was eerily familiar to me. I wanted to rush into her arms and cry my heart out.

The first little boy to reach him was thin, dark haired and missing most of his teeth. His likeness to Michael's son Adam was heart wrenching. He was wearing shorts that revealed knobby knees covered with coloured bandaids. He carried a Star Wars laser sword in one hand. I watched with a lump in my throat as he threw himself at Michael. Michael, laughing, scooped the small boy up under the armpits just as I'd seen him do with his own son and swung him high in the air.

" It's Zoltan, the birthday boy. Have you grown six inches since I last was here? "

" Nope. I'm still the smallest." Zoltan touched the side of Michael's face in that bold, curious way that some small children have. " Last time you were here you had more whiskers."

" I decided to clean up my act." Michael lowered the boy to the ground and gave each child gathered around him a greeting, by name. I was amazed. He adored them, and they were more than obvious about how they felt for him. Some were more vocal and demonstrative but even the shyer ones stood there at the back of the group and stared at him with longing. The two older girls looked at him like he was a movie star.

" Is that lady your girlfriend? " asked Zoltan.

Michael looked over at me and raised a brow. " I don't know yet. I haven't asked her. But I'm working on that."

I took a deep breath of air into my lungs.

" This is Nikita. She's a very good friend of mine from work. This is Zoltan and that's Pasha over there and Franz. That's Henri. And that's Celeste with the pigtails. The two giggling girls are Sofia and Katerina. Where's Sasha? "

" He's pouting, I think. He's been pouting a lot lately," said one of the older boys. " I thought he'd be setting up the computer for you," Michael said.

" He did some, but then he got mad."

Rebecca stepped forward and went up to Michael for a hug. Close up she looked even more familiar to me. It was something about the way she moved. All brisk and business and yet so cheerful and full of love and good humour. " Hello Michael. It's been weeks." She pulled his face down the her level and gave him a warm kiss on each cheek in the European way.

He grinned down at her. " Yes. I've been away on business for a few weeks."

" The gift for the children was most generous, Michael. God bless you." Rebecca turned he gaze on me, fixing me with her bright blue eyes. " Hello, Nikita. Michael has told me about you."

He had the grace to flush. " Good things, I hope." I reached out to take her small hand. She had a firm handshake which she finished by covering the top of my hand with hers. There was something about her touch, something healing and I knew right off why Michael would risk his cover by getting to know this person better.

" Of course. What else? He told be you were beautiful but I never expected a super model."

" Well, hardly that. But thank you."

" What an adorable pair you make."

" Alright, Rebecca," Michael said. " You can work on convincing her later. Tell her what a wonderful catch I'd be. I'm wondering where the food is. I'm starved."

" You'll have to go in and see what Sister Adelle is up to then. I have a feeling she's all caught up in her tapes of the Young and the Restless again and has forgotten to put the hot dogs on. Go and see her. She and Sister Heloise are most anxious to see you, Michael. I'll look after your friend, Nikita."

Michael went off happily amidst a swarm of children, scooping two of them up and carrying them under his arms like wriggling, giggling sacks of potatoes. Rebecca took my arm in hers and began to lead my up the path.

" They love him. I bless the day Father Pete brought him here. He was so sad then. Such a handsome man but almost afraid to smile lest his face crack. And now look at him. Do we owe that partly to you?"

I looked down at her. Direct was this woman's middle name. " He's happier now. I don't really think I have anything to do with that." I wondered what he told her. Had he told her of Elena and Adam? I could not ask her.

" I noticed that he was always much happier when he spoke of you. I've been hoping you two would get together."

I swallowed. " Well, there have been impediments. And we're not together, actually. We're friends still. Our company..." I bit my lip. " It doesn't allow fraternization between employees. And they're talking about transferring me." It was more than I'd meant to say.

" And you'd go? "

Did I tell her: If I don't go they'll kill me. " Sometimes these things can't be helped. I am sort of a junior -uh- executive and "

She nodded. " Have you told him, Nikita? Does he know all about you? "

" Pardon?"

" I know this is none of my business, but I never forget a face, especially one as lovely as yours. And the unusual name. Let me say that I am extremely proud of what you have done with your life. I know you, Nikita. I know you from when you lived in Antwerp."

I stared at her. That was it. That was where it was.

" I was in the Sisterhood of the Perpetual Virgin. We ran the soup kitchen there. The hostel. I know your face as well as the back of my hand. I always wondered what had happened to you. There were rumours that you had died. I'm glad they weren't true. "

I felt as if a ton of lead had fallen on me. Why is it like this for me? Michael finally finds some happiness and it will be me who will be the instrument to take it all away, destroy it? Had I been compromised, I wondered? With those few words. 'I heard rumours that you had died.' I wanted to ask her where the nearest washroom was so that I could throw up.

" Are you alright, Nikita? You seem pale. "

" I don't like to think about my life then. It's over now. All in the past. I want to lie to you and say that girl wasn't me. I know you'll see right through me."

She smiled. " I would see through you. Ask the children. They say I have a third, all-knowing eye, right here." She pointed to the middle of her forehead. "I also have extra-sensory hearing. I know the moment one of them sneaks out of bed to do something bad. You'll meet my nemesis soon. That's Sasha. He was a street kid in Moscow. Michael has a special fondness for Sasha. He has a lot in common with you, Nikita. Michael brought him to me."

" Michael brought a child to you? " Incredible. Michael brings street kids to orphanages. Why am I surprised by anything the man does? The very idea floored me. And made me sad. Just another part of himself he had kept from me because of Section.

All because of Section.

"He found Sasha in Moscow about ten months ago."

Ten months ago. During the Peruse mission. While I'd been hating him. Calling him a cruel manipulative Section lackey.

Why hadn't he told me? Would I have given him the chance? He would never use that act of kindness to make me love him. He isn't like that, just as I know his bringing me here wasn't a ploy to impress me. He truly felt he has found a place here. A haven. He wanted me to share it with him.

" Sasha was fourteen at the time. Such a poor, pathetic boy, but so proud. Like you were Nikita. So like you. He was living in the streets, selling stolen cigarettes on the black market. He's fifteen now. "

I nodded, remembering, feeling the unshed tears back up in my throat.

" Michael would understand about you. His heart is very big. He is a most perceptive sort of man. Very generous, but you would know that. Why do you find such shame in it? And please, Nikita, I didn't mean to cause you any pain with my questions."

" Am I ashamed about having been homeless, you mean? "

" Yes. Homeless. It's such an awful word. Or people have made it so. "

" Better than being called an indigent. Or a beggar. Or a bum," I said bitterly. There was still great disgrace in it. I would never forget what I was. She was right in that assumption. " There will always be names for us."

" You're not homeless now, Nikita. As I said, you can be proud." I suppose she realized that she was digging too deep, prying. She looked momentarily sheepish. " I do put my foot in it. If you ever need to talk, I'm here."

" I won't need to talk. I have dealt with it. I don't want you to say anything to him. I'd rather he didn't know anything about this conversation. I'd rather he thought we were strangers." I know I sounded brittle. Cold. I had to sound that way or I would cry.

I had to think. And this would give me time. I really didn't know what to do at this point. Did he need to know about Rebecca's recognising me? There was no reason why it would be a problem if he didn't know. Just another in a long line of secrets between us. " Please," I repeated. " I do not want him to know."

She studied my face for a long moment. " Yes. Of course. Are you in love with him? "

I couldn't help but laugh. She was incredible. So sweet and yet such a snoop. " Do you drive people crazy, Sister Rebecca? "

" With my prying? Of course. People don't expect that of a nun. I'm also stubborn and tough and quite like a pit-bull terrier. I grab onto things and don't let go. How do you think I get these children? I go right in there and challenge their governments and bring them here and then I'm equally stubborn at finding them places. And as you can see, I am incredibly modest, too." She laughed. It was a loud rather obnoxious bray. Like a donkey, but incredibly endearing. " You didn't answer me."

" Yes, I love him. I love him more than I have ever imagined loving anyone. He is my world, my life. He doesn't know that yet, by the way."

" I won't tell him. I'll let you have that pleasure." She sighed. " I have no doubt it will be a pleasure when you let him in on it. He's a hunk."

I grinned. " Yes. He is."

" Ah, just as people have preconceived notions about the homeless, you think nuns never notice men. We are nuns. We aren't dead from the knees up. We have hormones, too."

I blushed. " I didn't think that."

" Ever hear that saying: He'd tempt a saint."

" Yes."

" Well? That Michael would seriously tempt a saint. Don't ask Sister Heloise about Keanu Reeves. She has never been quite the same since taking some of the older children to see the Matrix. She has a thing for devilish men in black trench coats. I like them more real and gentlemanly. Like your Michael."

" I can understand that." If only the poor woman knew the truth.

" Well. If I'd met a man like Michael I'd never have taken the vows. Just remember, in love, honesty is often the best policy."

" To a point. Some things are better left unsaid. At least until all the cards are on the table."

" You might be right about that. Did you know that I stink at chess? But poker. I can really play poker."

I had to grin at that. I understood that more than she would ever know.

I tried to enjoy myself but the worry pressed at the back of my mind. I watched the boy called Sasha. He was tall, well-built and had straight sandy blonde hair that fell into silvery gray eyes framed by brows and lashes several shades darker than his hair colour. He looked a little predatory with his high, Slavic cheekbones and wide full mouth. He would be a handsome man one day. A heartbreaker. I hoped he didn't end up robbing banks or something.

He looked like he had a chip on his shoulder as heavy as a concrete slab and seemed unable to keep his eyes off the cute young girl named Sofia who was departing for Canada. Sofia kept looking over at him, flashing a dimpled smile. She tried once to get him to dance to the music they were playing on the boom box, but he shuffled off with his hands jammed in the pockets of khakis that would have fit a man twice his size. Then he resumed his glowering stare from the other side of the room.

Michael walked over with a paper cup full of Kool-aide. " Want something to drink? I think it was a very good year for this particular vintage. Slightly fruity. But it has a bit of an after taste."

" You're the fancy French dude. You should know. " I took it from his hand, our fingers brushing as I took the cup.

"Fancy French dude," he repeated, grinning. He stuck out his tongue. It was bright blue.

I laughed in spite of myself.

" Thanks for taking it off my hands. I don't usually drink the blue stuff." He gave me that grin that makes me want to throw him down on the floor and have my wicked way with him. I have no will power. Even with all my fears about our future, or lack of one, I want to kiss that sweet, supple mouth, wrap my arms around his wide shoulders, have that bright blue tongue do sexy, wild things to me.

I don't want to sound like I'm blowing my own horn, but I think he wanted the same thing. There is just something about the smouldering looks he had been giving me lately. Even at Section.

" Did you get anything to eat? " He was slightly out of breath after a laser sabre fight with the little boys. As Franz put it, " Michael kicks butt. "

" I'm not all that hungry, Michael."

" You're not hungry? I saw you eat three hot dogs once. Two of yours and one of mine."

" We were on stake-out. I was wired. And as I recall it had been twelve hours."

" Right. That was a long twelve hours. I think you were wearing some kind of new perfume. It drove my sinuses crazy."

" You don't like perfume, do you?"

" I like it when you wear absolutely nothing, Kita. "

I just swallowed hard again over that. What was he trying to do to me?

"You're okay with this, aren't you? " he asked. " Are you bored? "

" No, Michael. I'm not bored. I find this intriguing, actually. I am still trying to figure you out, but then that is nothing new." I gave him a small smile. " How is Sasha doing? Is he coping okay with being off the streets."

" I thought he was. He's seems down right now. The kid has a thing for computers and numbers. I think if he could get into a good university he could go a long way. "

" This thing with Sophia has him blue? Or is he homesick? "

" Maybe both. I don't see how he could be homesick for the life I found him living. He's very smart, very mature for his age. He's had to be. He's been alone since he was ten."

" Where did you find him?"

" When I found him I was doing some reconnaissance in Moscow. For the Valendikov mission. He tried to pick my pocket. He was thin, scared, hungry. He ran from me. I chased him six blocks. He'd cut his arm somehow. I think he'd done it breaking in somewhere and the cut had become infected. I managed to get him to a hospital and contact Rebecca. She got him out."

" Why, Michael? Why would you get involved like that. It had to have been a risk. Excuse me for saying this, but it's not like you."

He fixed me with those jade green eyes. " None of this is like me. That's what you're trying to say."

" Yes."

" Like I told you once there are things you don't know about me. I've had to keep things from you and I'm sorry for that. I've changed in the last few years. I guess it's being a father. Or maybe you've finally rubbed off on me."

I took a huge gulp of blue kool-aide. " I don't think I can take much credit for that. Ops would say that I have been a negative influence. I am concerned about these people, Michael. What if something happed that might endanger them? And compromise us. " What if Rebecca knew more about me than this rumoured death? What if she knew about the prison term? It gave me a headache to think about it."

" I keep contact down to a minimum, Nikita. I've only been here more lately since Father Pete died. Things are calming down here. I can taper off my visits."

" Will that be hard for you? "

" Yes. I like coming here. I've been lonely. I'll miss them. Just as I've missed you."

" You've missed me?" I tried to keep the bitterness out of my tone, but I know it slipped in." You didn't have to stay away from me, you know." He had been scarce since Greece, even after my accident falling off the balcony. The last I'd really seen him was when he called me from the bar. Drunk and not exactly in control.

" I don't expect you to understand my self-imposed absences. I know it feels as if I've been ignoring you and then coming back when I need something. I'll try to change that if you'll give me a chance."

I just looked down at the blue liquid in the waxed paper cup. I didn't know what to say. My heart was racing in my chest.

Lisbon. And if not Lisbon then something else. It was always the same.

" I'm trying to change things, Kita. We have to do something or we'll both go nuts."

" That's a distinct possibility."

He smiled and gave me a lazy perusal with those long, lashed green eyes. " I know this will seem abrupt but I'm going to ask . . .Will you spend "

" Oh, look! " I said. " Rebecca is bringing in the cake."

I know what you're thinking. I'm an idiot. I should have waited for him to finish his sentence. Why the heck would anyone get excited over a cake just when they think they might be getting propositioned?

I am an idiot. And a chicken. So get your hobnail boots on and kick me around the block a few times. The cake was good. Chocolate with fudge icing and vanilla cream in the middle, but I hardly tasted it because he was looking at me again. And he had this little smear of frosting at the corner of his lip and you know what I was thinking.

I am writing this and heaving a big sigh of regret here.

I'd just finished my second piece when his cell phone rang. He came over to me, leaning down very close to my ear so I could catch the scent of that soft suede shirt again. They should make a men's cologne called Michael, chocolate and suede. It would have great erotic possibilities. " We have to go in. There's a briefing in an hour. Something to do with Black Dawn. They've found Erich Mueller. You're on the team."

I nodded. " I'll get my bag."

" I'll thank Rebecca and make the excuses."

So three hours later instead of having a roll in the hay with Michael I was belly down on a roof trying to get some stupid ass terrorist in sight so I could blow his brains out. And you guessed it, I was intensely relieved that I hadn't had to decide if I should sleep with Michael. As it was I didn't sleep for about three days straight. When we came back, having taken Mueller alive and blowing up the Black Dawn sub-station, Operations actually complimented me for a job well done instead of chewing me out.

I wanted to ask him if it meant he'd changed his mind about Lisbon. I haven't heard it mentioned again and I'm keeping my fingers crossed. I sort of mentioned to this op called Delores that there was an opening in the Lisbon station and that maybe she should apply for it.

Michael and I got awfully busy the next week. I was working in the field and he was back at comm mostly. I did see him once when he was headed out on a mission. He was with Walter being wired up for something. He was standing there with his shirt off wearing just his mission pants his arms up high in the air while Walter fitted him. I just stood there and gaped like a school girl, looking at combination of wide shoulders and back tapering to a narrow waist. God, I miss getting my hands on him. Now that he's back in Section mode he hardly notices me.

There were a few of us gaping. I noticed that Donna went over to Walter's desk three times when she could have made one trip. I guess it's not every day that you get to see a Chippendale quality body half naked at work. I felt like going over to her desk and telling her to keep her eyes off my man. I didn't. I was panting myself by the time Walter got to Michael's back and he had to turn around and display his bare chest.

I was given two days off. I planned to spend most of it sleeping. I just came home and flopped, but I was too worked up to really sleep deeply. I sort of tossed and turned and had weird dreams. I spent the second day catnapping and restocking my fridge with the odd necessity. Of course I thought of Michael the entire time. I thought about calling his place and thought that he might either be at work or sleeping. He needed his sleep, too.

I spent a lot of time fantasizing about that big bed of his, wondering what colour his sheets were, reading romance novels, eating chocolate bars, trimming my toenails.

When he didn't call that night I started getting pissed off. And jealous. And then worried. You know me. I'm an idiot.

He still hadn't called me by eight on Thursday night. I decided to put some music on, light some candles and soak in the tub.

I wish I had a nice big tub, a soaker style one. I have a standard model, surrounded by institutional white tile that has started to look grotty. If I want to soak my back I have to bend my long legs up and rest them on the front edge. I don't know quite what I look like while I'm doing that. I had my face covered with cream and my hair slicked into a slimy knot with some hair infusion. I was singing along with the stereo and missing him.

I really wasn't expecting him to walk into my bathroom and look right at me.

I think I swore at him. I was so stunned I don't know what I said.

Okay, he's seen me naked before. He's even seen me in the bath, but he hasn't seen me looking like Swamp Thing. I think I looked like one of those dolphins at Sea World as I tried to get my legs back in the tub and my exposed parts covered somewhat decently with the washcloth. He didn't seem to mind that I'd splashed his shoes and pants.

I glared at him. " Gee, Michael. Drop in any time."

" Before you accuse me of breaking in I tried the buzzer. If you don't want visitors in the bathroom, lock the door."

"Well, that makes one hell of a lot of sense. I didn't hear you. I was singing." I sunk a little further down in the tub, hoping the bubbles were covering me.

" Is that what you call it?" He grinned and then as suddenly as it appeared , it was gone, replaced by his usual grim expression. " Can you shower off that gunk and come talk to me?"

" Sure. Is this work related ? "

" No. It's personal. Hurry. I'll wait out there."

I came out five minutes later. He was pacing my living room in his knee length black wool coat, tapping his gloves on one hand. I knew there was something big coming. He always does exactly the same thing when it's serious. I tried to think of what I might have done to raise his ire, but nothing came to mind. I'd been behaving myself lately to prevent the sceptre of Lisbon from raising its ugly head.

He'd taken the liberty of silencing Duran Duran. I wrapped my terry robe a little tighter and rubbed at my hair. I'd showered so quickly I don't think I got all the goop out of it.

" What is it, Michael? "

He sighed. " Rebecca called me about an hour ago. Sasha ran away some time during the night."

" Okay." I shrugged. " May I say that doesn't really surprise me? I took one look at him and saw myself in a mirror, Michael. He looks like the type of kid who'd run at the drop of a hat. I'm sure he'll be fine if he doesn't do anything stupid. A week on the streets and he'll start missing Heloise, the French pastry chef."

" If it were just him there wouldn't be so much cause for concern. He took Sofia with him. It seems he is saving her from being shipped off to Canada."

I took in a deep breath and blew it out. " You're serious. She actually went with him."

" Yes. He left a note saying that he loves her and..." He ran his hand through his hair and swore.

" Did Rebecca call the police? "

" She called me first. I asked her to keep the police out of it for now. I told her that it wouldn't do Sasha any good to have this on his record. She wasn't happy about that. I told her that we could find them for her."

" We? I have to be at Section at four o'clock."

" No. I cleared you for a couple of days. I'll make it look like you're gathering intel. Don't worry about it. You'll do this for me, won't you? I have to go in to Section but you could look. You"ll know what he's thinking. You've been in this situation. I don't know anything about the streets. I wouldn't know the first place to look."

" When is Sofia scheduled to leave for Canada? "

" The end of the month. Kita, he's been coming around for me. We were communicating --"

" Michael, he's a fifteen year old kid and that is reason enough for his being unpredictable. You can't run a sim on him like you would on some terrorist and predict exactly what he'll do. That's the problem with you, you know. You expect everyone to behave according to your set of principles. And then when they disappoint you, you wonder why. And you want people to do what ever it is you want to do whenever you get around to deciding the time is right. Some people don't like to be controlled. "

He frowned at me. " Is that what I've done to you? "

" Let's save that for another time. " I shook my dripping head. "Michael, Sasha is like me, damaged goods. He'll do what ever he feels is necessary to survive. That doesn't always involve reason and logic. He goes on instinct and what he has learned will cause him the least pain, not by what his head or good sense tells him. And if you try to hold him under your thumb he 'll rebel. Hell, Michael, I'm still like Sasha. I may never get over it. Have you ever been able to predict what I might do? I've been off the streets for almost five years trying to find out what I am and what I want. I still want to run from things, Michael. Even the things I love the most. Start trying to pin me down and I'm gone."

He just stared at me for the longest time. " I know that, Kita. "

" Oh, God. I'm sorry. I wasn't meaning to bring this conversation back to me and my stupid insecurities." I was flushing. " Did he give you any clue that he might do this? Has he talked about wanting to go back home? "

" Nothing. He hates Russia. He was happy as hell to come here. I can't believe he'd do this. She's fourteen years old. Do you think they believe that they're in love? "

" Kids grow up fast nowadays, Michael. If we don't find them fast and they bring in the police, you know what this means."

" I know what that means. We can't be involved with the local police. If he does anything stupid to harm her, I'll wring his neck."

" We'll just have to find them before he does anything stupid," I said softly.

" Yes. When we find them I'll deal with the other problem. I know I can't see them as often. This is all I can think about right now."

I put my hand over his forearm. " They won't have gotten far. It would be more worrisome if he were alone. Alone he could get much further. He's had a lot of practice at this. What about her?"

" I don't think so. She's a war orphan. I think she lived a pretty normal life before her parents were killed."

" Good. She seems flighty. She just went with him because she's got a teenaged crush. He might be serious about this, but I doubt that she is, Michael. She's going to slow him up. There'll be all sorts of girl stuff he won't have thought about. She won't be able to just pee up a wall somewhere and she certainly isn't going to want to eat out of a dumpster and sleep in the alley."

" You did it."

I stiffened. " I was different. I had to do it. I was Sasha, Michael, not some little girl who likes pop bands and bad boys who give me come hither looks."

He frowned, chewing his lip.

" Okay. I like bad boys who give me come hither looks."

That got me something that came remarkably close to a come hither look. I think if I'd have allowed myself to get close to him he might have kissed me. I wouldn't let myself do that. I needed to think.

" Um, let me get dressed. Then we can try to brainstorm a few things."

" Yea, okay."

He looked so down in the dumps I went to him anyway and then I kissed him on the cheek. It was only meant to be a reassurance, but I found myself in his arms for what seemed a full minute. He just held me tightly, a veritable bear hug. It was nice. I'm not used to that sort of thing from Michael. When he let me go I figured I'd better get dressed and find those two kids pretty quickly. No telling what kind of reward I might get if I found them.

I dressed in my grungist clothes, which by my former standards would be quite suitable for Princess Caroline of Monaco. I carried my gun, concealed in the pocket of an old biker jacket along with a picture of the two teenagers.

Michael had weird ideas about how people fall in love. There was no reason a teenager couldn't feel like they were as much in love as so called adults. When I first saw Michael I was barely out of my teens. I knew I wanted him. I have spent five years as a thorn in his side, yet he loves me and I love him. It's my belief that there isn't a single person on this earth who can figure love out.

After about six hours of pounding the pavement in a ten mile radius around the children's home my feet were starting to hurt. It had started to rain hard and I was feeling like a drowned rat. I was trying to think like they would think but it had been so long since I'd done stuff like that I had forgotten half my old tricks.

The darker it got the less chance I had of finding them. I knew that. I hoped like hell that Sasha hadn't decided to hop on a bus or something.

It was around ten when I decided to head back to my car. I cut through an alley behind some restaurants and theatres. I'd been on the phone to Michael with no good news and the sound of his voice killed me. I could almost taste his despair.

That was when I got jumped by some punk. I don't know who the jerk was but he jumped me from behind and I hit the side of my face on a dumpster. I was furious. I managed to kick him off me and get into training mode. Let's just say the guy waddled off wearing his balls for a necktie.

I didn't have a handkerchief, as usual, to wipe the blood off my mouth, so I used the bottom of my tee-shirt. I think my bottom lip was split and my cheek grazed. I was swearing like a sailor when I saw them. They were sneaking out the back exit of a movie theatre.

Sasha made me chase them for three blocks until Sofia slipped on some wet cardboard and went down. Sasha went back to help her and I managed to get hold of his pants leg.

He wasn't coming without a fight. He was tough. I had to hand it to him. And he didn't hit or shove me, which was fortunate because in the mood I was in I would have whipped his ass.

He stopped trying to get away from me when Sofia started to cry. " I can't do this anymore, Sasha. I want to go home. I'm scared and I want to sleep."

" You promised you'd try Sofie."

" I don't want to, Sasha. I want to go home."

I put my hand on his shoulder. " Sasha, let's take her home. This isn't going to work. She doesn't have it in her to do this."

" How the hell would you know? "

" Look at me Sasha. I know."

He sighed, throwing up his hands. He looked about to burst into tears.

" My car is about a block from here. Sofia, can you make it if I help you? "

" I'll help her," Sasha gritted.

" Suit yourself, kid, but if you try anything you're toast."

I called Michael on his cell. He was on his way home. He told me to meet him there. He would call Rebecca with the news.

He arrived just before we did. He took one look at my face and practically nailed Sasha to the wall. I have never seen him lose his cool like that. He never even blinks at Section when I get kicked in the chops. He doesn't even wince when someone aims a gun at me. " Did you do this to her? If you touched her, I'll --'

" Michael, chill," I said. " He ran away from me. That's all. I got jumped by some punk in the alley before I found them."

He let us into his loft. He was shaking when he told a sobbing Sofia to go to the guest room and wash up, that she was to get into the bed and go to sleep. I showed here where to go and walked back into Michael's kitchen.

Sasha was leaning up against the sub-zero fridge looking scared and insolent.

" I thought you were smarter than this, Sasha. I told you when I brought you here that I was expecting good things from you."

Sasha just lifted his chin and glared. He reminded me of me.

Michael grabbed his collar, lifting him up on his toes." Are you going to sit down and talk to me or do I make you "

" Michael. Maybe it would be better if you calmed down. I think you're scaring the kid. You look a little formidable right now." I wiped my nose on my sleeve. A little trickle of blood from my nose stained my sleeve. " Maybe if you got out of your work clothes."

He took a deep breath. " I'll be fine. I'm sorry. I'll get you some ice for your lip.' He moved Sasha aside and went into the fridge for the ice, wrapping it in a towel and handing it to me. " Your stupidity I can forgive, Sasha. But look at her. I can't forgive that she got hurt looking for you. How would you have felt if Sofia had been punched in the face by some creep? "

" I'd have killed him."

" Do you see, Sasha? Do you understand what you've done here. You're lucky I talked Rebecca out of going to the police. Why did you think you could do this? "

" I love her. I wanted to be with her. They're sending her away."

Something in my heart melted hearing that. I watched the visible slump of Michael's shoulders.

" You love her." Sasha pointed at me. He was almost hysterical. " You love Nikita. How would you feel if someone took her away from you? Just sent her away somewhere so you'd never see her again. How would you feel, Michael? "

Michael's back was to me. I didn't see his face. There were tears coursing down Sasha's face. His bottom lip quivered.

Michael's voice was husky. " I'd want to take her and run, Sasha. I know how you feel."

" You don't know."

" Believe me, I do," he said softly. " I know it's going to take time to get used to this "

" I will never get used to this. I don't want her to go." The boy wiped at his eyes with the heel of his hand. " It's not fair to us. Why can't I go with her? "

Michael shook his head. " Maybe someday, when you're older, you'll see each other again."

" She'll forget about me. She won't love me anymore."

Michael's tone was gentle. " Do you want her to be safe, Sasha? And happy. If you love her I know you want all those things for her. You can't be selfish. You have to do this for her. She can have a good life, Sasha, so much more than she can have here."

" I do want those things. But what kind of life will I have without her, Misha? What kind of a life will I have ? "

' A hard one. For a while, Sasha. You'll make it. You'll do what you have to do. You'll be fine. "

" I don't know what to do, Misha. I can only see the loneliness. I can only see what's being taken from me."

"I know," Michael pulled Sasha's head down to his shoulder. " Sasha, you have to be a man here. Here and now. You have to make the sacrifice if you want her to live. Because if you run with her, she won't be safe. You know what it's like out there. You have to let her go. I know you don't believe me when I tell you this, but I know how hard that's going to be for you, Sasha. I know."

Sasha looked over at me, then back at Michael. He nodded. " I won't give any more trouble. I'm sorry." He looked at me. " I'm sorry you got hurt because of me, Nikita."

" It's okay, Sasha."

" There's a bedroom and a bath up there. Go and clean up. Then get into the bed. Go to sleep."

The boy went up stairs. Michael turned to me. He shook his head. There were tears in his eyes that mirrored mine.

I knew he wasn't crying just for Sasha.

I couldn't bear to look at him. I knew exactly what he was thinking. I lowered my head and made a show of rearranging the ice in the tea towel. We just stayed like that, not saying anything, for a long while. The silence just hung in the air. We have been together in this long enough to know what the other is thinking.

" Let me get something for that lip. Maybe it needs a butterfly."

" It doesn't need anything. I'm fine. Maybe I'll just go home now. I think you've got enough to deal with."

He sighed and came over to me, pushing my face upwards with his fingers. I didn't want him to be so close to me and yet he was not close enough. " You're going to look like hell tomorrow. What are you going to tell Madeline if she asks ? "

" Domestic accident. Maybe I'll say I slipped on a banana peel. She knows I'm a klutz."

" Thank you for helping me, Nikita."

" I'll always help you if you need me, Michael." I was really hoping that he'd draw me against him for another one of those long hugs, but he didn't. He seemed as awkward and preoccupied as I was. I wanted to tell him that everything would work out for us, that he should have faith and hope.

But how could I tell him things that I don't believe myself. We both know the score.

Instead of a hug he leaned into me and pressed his lips to my forehead. His mouth felt cool against my heated skin. I felt as if I couldn't breathe or think those few seconds that he touched me. It took everything I had not to wrap my arms around his waist, tell him I loved him more than I can ever imagine loving anyone ever again. He'll be my only love. My heart knows that.

I stood there and clutched that tea-towel full of ice, feeling it cold and hard and numbing against my fingers.

I wanted to tell him that we could run. We are older, wiser and faster than those two heartbroken teenagers.

Please, Michael, I was wanting to say, I know what you feel. Just don't go back to being cold to me. I can't live with that.

I moved away from him. " I'll see you at work, Michael."

He just nodded.

I wanted to ask him not to keep his distance too long. I didn't.

" You'd better call Rebecca again, " I said before I opened the door.

" I will."

" Goodbye Michael." I walked out the door, shutting it softly behind me. I stood there for a moment staring at the glossy black painted metal. I wanted to open the door and go back, tell him what he told Sasha. That everything would be alright.

I knew it wasn't true.

Ops sent an operative called Ramsay to Lisbon. I heaved a sigh of relief when Birkoff told me. Sofia has gone to Canada. She's been communicating with Rebecca and Sasha via E-mail and Michael says that she's doing well. They were writing a lot the first week but the e-mails are tapering off and sometimes she doesn't return them now.

I haven't asked him what he's decided to do about tapering off his visits to St. Anthony's.

I haven't really spoken to him for more than a few minutes in weeks. When we speak it's about Section or small talk. It's awkward again.

As I watch him walk away though the cold halls of Section, his head down, his eyes remote, dressed in dull black wool, not soft brown suede and faded blue denim, I tell myself that it everything will be alright. One day we'll be together. This will only hurt for a little while.

Send suggestions and comments to ranma.