Charity Begins At Home

*What time is it? How long does she think she has to stay with this slimeball anyway? I can't believe she's not home yet.* Michael's thoughts seethed through his mind.

He sat in the dark in Nikita's kitchen, waiting impatiently for her to return from her date with Chandler. Refusing to admit to himself just what he was so upset about, he got to his feet and started pacing back and forth. As far as he was concerned, it had been one of the worst weeks in Section in quite a while.

Watching Nikita move ever closer to Chandler had been an exercise in testing his limits. At first, it had seemed so easy. Identify the problem, set up a sequence, designate an operative to bring him into the open and eliminate him. Operations and Madeline had decided that this operation would be a good test of Nikita's abilities and Michael had been told to simply act as backup if needed. This was the first time she had been allowed to run things her own way and it was driving him crazy. Having Operations remind him that she would do whatever was necessary to bring down Chandler, even if it included sleeping with him, was infuriating. The memory of that conversation still ran through his mind.

"Whatever it takes Michael! " He had been so close to decking him for that. Somehow it hadn't seemed to matter so much when he had been the one told to sleep with a target to get the job done.

Prowling restlessly around the apartment, he opened the fridge. "Hmm, not much in here. Just some milk and a leftover Chinese food carton. Someone needs to have a talk with this girl about nutrition." Closing the door, he turned away. As he did, he noticed a gift basket on the counter. Taking a closer look, he saw an envelope with Nikita's name on it and, feeling somewhat foolish, carefully opened it and read the note inside. "To Nikita, a beautiful wine for a beautiful lady."

"Aaahh, merde. I can't believe this. This guy has no taste at all. Beautiful wine for a beautiful lady indeed! Probably had one of his lackeys write it." Looking at the wine, he realized that it was a particularly nice St. Emilion, and a good year to boot. "Must have had his secretary buy this as he doesn't look like he'd know a Cabernet from a Burgundy." (Can we tell this guy is jealous as hell folks?) Smiling to himself, Michael rooted through the drawer in search of a corkscrew. If he had to stand back and watch Chandler sniffing around Nikita, he was at least going to enjoy himself drinking Chandler's expensive wine.

************

Two hours later the wine was gone and Nikita still wasn't home. Michael was about at the end of his rope. If she wasn't home in the next 20 minutes, he was going after her. To hell with what Operations would have to say about that.

At 19 minutes and counting, there was a muffled thump outside the door and amid some swearing the sound of Nikita's key in the lock. Michael hastily moved from his post on the couch over to the shadows by the window. As she came in the door, she stumbled a bit and sighed.

"Oops, here we go. Don't fall on your face Nikita, can't wake the neighbours at 2:00 am."

The ginger kitten who had been sleeping on her bed came winding around her feet, delighted she was home and begging for attention.

"Hey kitty, how's my boy been? You been a good kitty tonight and kept all the burglars out?"

She nuzzled her face into the kitten's soft fur and rolled him on his back to kiss his stomach. At this gesture Michael's stomach tightened. For a moment he had visions of her mouth on his stomach with her hair trailing over his skin. Irritated at himself for letting her get to him, he rose to his feet.

"Where have you been! It's two o'clock in the morning."

Nikita jumped out of her skin. "Jeez Michael, what the hell are you doing here. Don't you have a home of your own?" Her eyes seemed to mock him as if they knew the reason he was there. Swaying on her feet, she reached down and unzipped her boots. Kicking them into the corner, she crossed over to the stereo.

"Let me guess. You're here to check up on my progress with Chandler, right?"

The music she chose seemed to be a reflection of her defiant mood, the pulsing beat picking up the echoes of all the undertones in the room.

Moving away from him, she stretched and arched her back. The movement thrust her breasts against the thin material and pulled her already short skirt even higher. Michael swallowed hard and tried to maintain his train of thought. "You need to be more alert. If I'd been an enemy, you'd be dead by now!"

He turned off the music. "Are you listening to me!!" NIkita had started for the stairs to her bedroom, pulling down the zipper of her dress as she went, exposing an expanse of bare back with a hint of black lace at the bottom. At this remark, she turned and moved into the kitchen, dress falling off her shoulders.

"Look Michael, this can wait until tomorrow. I don't need to discuss this with you now." She was getting decidedly irritated with him. It had been fun at first to see how far she could push his buttons, knowing that he didn't like any of her involvement with Chandler. However, the tension between them was starting to get to her and seeing him in this intimate setting, especially with all the alcohol she'd consumed, wasn't making things any better.

"You are not the boss here. This is my place and my rules." As she said this, she opened the fridge and took out the milk. Not bothering with a glass, she drank straight from the carton, winding up with a milk mustache along her upper lip.

************

Michael had walked over towards the door, feeling his control start to slip. As he turned to open the door, she added "The next time you decide to wait up for me, don't! You don't own me!!"

Stopping in his tracks, he said very softly "What was that?"

Feeling just a bit defiant, she met his eyes and said, "That's right Michael. You don't own me. No one does, including Section. The day I let any of you control freaks take over my life, I'll cancel myself." With that remark, she ran her tongue along her upper lip trying to get rid of the sticky milk mustache. Michael's eyes followed every move and she smirked at him.

Staring straight into his eyes, "Okay, you can leave now. Trot along home and dream of me," she continued sarcastically.

The blood rushed to Michael's head and he felt his hands start to shake as Nikita turned and bent over to put the milk back into the fridge. Turning back to him, she quirked an eyebrow.

"Still here?"

With those words, Michael lost it.

************

Moving like a leopard, he grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her up against the counter.

"By the time I'm done with you tonight, ma chere, you will be the one dreaming of me."

Then he kissed her, slanting his mouth across hers and slipping his tongue into her mouth. Nikita's mind swam, he tasted of wine and aroused man. By the time he pulled his head back, she was having a hard time breathing.

Pushing the dress off her shoulders, Michael kissed her throat, threading his hands through her hair and holding her head back so he could lick the long clean lines of her neck. She moaned, closing her eyes and arching against his hard body, reaching for him only to have him capture her hands behind her back with one of his, holding her helpless between his body and the counter.

Kissing his way along her shoulders, he released her hands and pushed the dress the rest of the way off. Underneath, she was wearing only a black lace garter belt with stockings and a lace thong.

"God", he groaned, "what were you thinking of, wearing this?"

Nikita smiled to herself with what was left of her mind, remembering how she'd looked at herself in her pier mirror, wondering if he'd like the way she looked.

Cupping her breasts in his hands, Michael stroked them gently while kissing her again and rotating his hips against hers, kneeing her legs apart. Moving his head down, he licked the tender skin between her breasts and teasingly flicked his tongue against her nipples. Wrapping her hands around his head, Nikita tried to pull his head to her breast, wanting more. Smiling against her, he obliged, taking her nipple into his mouth and sucking, swirling his tongue around it. She gasped with pleasure, rolling her head back, clutching his head to her, his silky hair clinging to her fingers.

Michael sank to his knees and kissed his way down her stomach, sliding his fingers under her garter belt and snapping it gently against her.

"Did I ever tell you I love garter belts?" he murmured, "the way you look in this is driving me wild."

With the last part of her mind that was still functioning, Nikita thought, *How can he even talk right now, I can't even think*. All she could do was moan in delight as he blew a series of warm breaths through the lace of her thong. He tugged at it and slid it down to her feet. Lifting each foot to help her out of it and then taking his time kissing his way up the arch of her feet, past her shaking knees and up her inner thighs.

Cupping his hands around her buttocks, Michael drew her to his mouth, pausing for a moment to admire the picture she made of black lace and blond hair.

All thoughts of teaching her who was boss had vanished. All he could think about was the moment and the woman.

Nikita clutched his shoulders with trembling hands, tearing at his shirt in her frenzy. He drove her right up to the edge and then pushed her over. She was overwhelmed by an intense orgasm, convulsing against his hands and mouth, moaning his name.

Michael rose to his feet, shaking with his need. Pulling Nikita to him, he kissed her deeply, rubbing against her body, mimicking the movement of his tongue in and out of her mouth.

She pulled his shirt off, trailing her fingernails across his nipples listening to his breath catch in his throat. Leaning forward, she ran her tongue across the base of his throat, nipping gently as she went. Sliding her hands down his stomach caressing him.

Michael gasped, "If you keep on doing that, I'm going to come like a 16 year old."

"Why Michael," she giggled, "Is this the Ice Prince talking? I thought you had all kinds of control."

Michael couldn't respond to that, all he could feel was her hands stroking him and the feel of her body under his frantic hands. He shoved her hands away and reached for his zipper.

"No, let me do that."

Nikita eased the zipper down and reaching inside his loosened pants, cupped his buttocks, scratching them while she drew down his briefs and pants. He had the body of a Greek god, all muscles and clean lines.

She looked at him smiled. "Aaahh Michael, if I'd known you looked like this, I'd have told Walter to set that bomb at Bauer's for thirty minutes instead of three."

She started to lean down to him in clear anticipation but Michael pulled her back up.

"Not this time Nikita, I can't take any more of this."

Kicking away his clothes he drew her down to the kitchen floor, rolling her underneath him and covering her body with his. Kissing her, he pushed her knees apart and looked deep into her eyes.

"You are mine, love. Never doubt that. No matter what the Section says or does, you are mine and I am yours."

With those words, he drove into her. Nikita moaned at the sensation clutching at him.

"No.... don't...."

"Don't do what..... this???" he flexed his back and drove back into her, moving in a rhythm as old as Mother Nature. She wrapped her legs around his waist and clutched at his back and shoulders, gasping in renewed passion, surrendering to him completely.

Michael tried to maintain his control but could not. Moving on her and in her, he tried to keep her pleasure in mind but, all his body could assimilate was how good she felt.

Feeling near the breaking point, he gasped.

"Come with me, mon coeur.... Look into my eyes."

Beyond thought, she locked eyes with him, holding his gaze as he moved over her, hair matted into tiny sweaty curls, face clenched in pleasure. She convulsed under him, crying out and as he felt her muscles rippling around him, he drove into her and came, throwing his head back and groaning her name.

Dead silence reigned in the kitchen as they lay entwined on the floor, still wrapped around each other with only their gasps for breath filling the air. At last, Michael moved reluctantly, sliding out of her and moving to her side.

Nikita moaned a protest and he leaned over her nuzzling her throat.

"Not to worry, love. That was only the appetizer."

She opened her eyes and stared disbelievingly at him.

"Appetizer???? My god, what do you do for dessert???"

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