He pulled back slightly, needing to see her face. "Kiss me."

Nikita felt her heart turn over at the simple request, and raised her face to his. A hot shiver danced through her body as his mouth covered hers again, his tongue slipping unchallenged between her lips to explore her mouth. Michael's tongue danced lazily, thrusting and parrying with hers, the hard heat of him lovingly bruising the depths of her aching inner walls again and again. She moaned his name, torn between wanting to be pushed over the edge and needing him to hold her in agonised anticipation until she could stand it no more.

Michael shifted down her body slightly, taking first one then the other nipple into his mouth, biting the soft swell of her breasts gently, his hands cupping them tenderly.

"Harder." He instantly obeyed Nikita's muffled request, taking her nipple between his teeth and biting again, no longer gentle. He felt her hips jerk in response, her legs tightening even more around his body, urging him on. She was warm and tight around him, and he could tell by the tensing of her legs and back that she was almost there, the skin on her chest flushing a pale pink.

Nikita trembled as she felt Michael's hand leave her breast and move slowly down between their slick bodies, down to caress the damp aching heat between her legs. She bucked under him as she felt his finger part the warm tangled curls, slowly finding the hard centre of her. Liquid warmth was spreading through her, her whole consciousness narrowing down to the point where their bodies joined. She felt as though her blood was roaring through her veins to this one spot, her sex swelling and tightening around him.

Michael could feel himself grow harder at the sound of her throaty moan. Too much.

He slipped another finger into her warmth, feeling his own body pulsing under his hand. He was rewarded instantly. Nikita's leg muscles tensed, and her hands came up to clutch at his shoulders. Michael had forgotten about his wound entirely, and was surprised by the sudden stab of pain as Nikita's fingers dug into his upper arm. He didn't care.

Nikita felt as though she was melting. Oh god. I can't... There was a split-second of pleasure/pain, and then she was tumbling, her whole body shaking as her release crashed over her. She could feel him, hard and deep inside her as her body gripped him. She pushed up hard against him, almost sobbing at the intense rush of hot blood through her throbbing sex.

Michael held himself steady as Nikita's climax claimed her, letting her move against him as she needed, desperately wanting her to take from him all the pleasure he could give her. His breath now felt hot in his lungs from the effort of holding back, and he slowly began to move inside her once more.

Michael brushed his lips against hers gently, and was startled by the suddenness of her response. Nikita reached for him urgently, her hands sliding behind his neck to pull his mouth down hard on hers, her tongue entangling with his.

It was too much. Michael could feel the familiar shiver up his spine, the heated dance of a thousand nerve-endings across his body that signaled his body's capitulation. Nikita wrapped her legs around his hips once more, pulling him hard against her, taking him deeper inside her body.

Michael murmured her name as he closed his eyes, the aching pressure in his groin growing to an almost unbearable throb as he thrust urgently into her slick tightness. Through the roar of blood in his ears, he felt Nikita move down his body slightly. His breath caught at the feeling of her mouth on his chest. Then her teeth were biting almost savagely down on an erect nipple, the sensation shooting straight to his groin. God. It was more than enough to blow him away.

Tunnel-vision. A bright pin-point of light flaring behind his closed eyelids as his release slammed into him, his head swimming as wave after wave of pulsing heat pounded his body, beating a rhythm inside the fluttering warmth of Nikita's body. Michael gasped out her name as his climax shuddered through him, amazed to feel her shake and tremble around him a second time.

Nikita caught her lip between her teeth as her body stirred once more, suddenly taken over by the feeling of the hard length of him thrusting into her with long urgent strokes. She was lost when she felt his release come, gasping and closing her eyes tightly as her inner heat gripped him in a pulsing embrace once again.

Overwhelmed by the feeling of his body twitching and dancing inside her, Michael clutched Nikita's hips harder, pushing her knees up against her body, desperate to be closer, deeper, a single thought blurring in his mind.

It will never be close enough.

~*~*~*~*~

Michael rested his forehead against hers, sucking the cool air into his lungs, just concentrating on staying awake. He inhaled deeply, the scent of Nikita's heated skin and hair filling his nostrils.

He couldn't stop touching her. Trailing his hand across one breast, he rubbed her skin with his fingers, smiling as his fingers came away stained with her last choice of lipstick. Glancing down at himself, he had his answer. Nikita's artwork was smudged and blurred, the colour now decorating her breasts as well as his chest.

He dozed, feeling his heart rate slowly returning to normal. No mean feat considering my pillow. He was sprawled across Nikita's body, his head resting between her breasts, the slow rise and fall of her chest soothing him into sleep. He thought Nikita had fallen asleep, but he suddenly felt her hand on his, her fingers entwining themselves with his. Her sleepy voice rumbled against his chest.

"The French have a phrase for it, don't they?" She didn't need to explain what she meant by "it". His body was still tingling pleasantly, and he had by no means quenched his thirst for her.

"La petit mort." He smiled at her.

"Now, that one I know." Her eyes sparkled. "The little death." The laughter in her voice trailed off slightly as she spoke again, her voice quiet. "I'm very glad that you came back early."

Michael let his eyes wander over her. Her hair was tousled and no doubt tangled by now, having dried without being brushed after her shower. The fair skin of her jaw and neck was flushed dark pink from its encounter with his beard, and he could see faint bite marks on her shoulder and breasts. She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

"So am I." He pressed a soft kiss on the swell of her breast, feeling her heart quicken beneath his lips.

"I don't know why...but it suddenly seemed very important for you to be home for Christmas, so that we could be together. I know that we haven't even spoken about it before, but..." Michael reached up and placed a long finger over her lips, his eyes searching her face.

"If it is important to you, then it matters to me, too." He ran his thumb across the curve of her eyebrow, the combination of bone and silky skin a nearly addictive feeling beneath his touch.

"But I've just finished four days downtime." Nikita looked at him in quiet despair. You probably won't have any problem, but I don't think they'll even consider approving leave for me at the same time..."

"Don't worry." Michael watched Nikita's eyes fill with hope as he went on. "We have three days to organise our schedules. I'll work something out."

Satisfied by his answer for the moment, Nikita turned her attention to more pressing matters. She trailed her fingers down his chest and stomach, she watched as Michael's eyes closed, heard his stifled groan as her hand slipped lower to curl her fingers around him.

"I know you wanted to take it slowly, but my idea was much better time management." She grinned wickedly at him, flicking her eyes at her bedside clock.

"This way, we have enough time to, uh, debrief .. .work out any kinks in the mission profile, and..." She stopped as she met his amused gaze, laughing bubbling up in her chest.

Michael raised an eyebrow at her. "And perhaps run a few more sims?"

Nikita wriggled closer, her legs tangling with his as she adjusted her hold on him. She watched with satisfaction as his facetious smile was replaced with an expression of longing so heated that she could hardly speak.

Clearing her suddenly dry throat, she curled a hand around the back of his neck, bringing Michael's face closer to her for another kiss, whispering her answer as their lips touched.

"Excellent answer, Mr Samuelle."

~*~*~*~*~

The candles had burned low but still flickered, adding their warm glow to the moonlight streaming through her window. Nikita stretched, every muscle in her body smarting. There was a weight on her legs, on her hip, and for one confused moment she could not remember where she was. Then the weight on her shifted slightly, and she could feel him, his legs tangled with hers, a long arm flung over her hips and resting on her belly, the fingers spread over her skin almost protectively.

His body came awake before he did, shifting restlessly behind her, hardness curling against her soft curves. Nikita sighed, glorying in the feeling of Michael's warm body pressed all along the length of her. His breath was tickling the hairs on the nape of her neck and his stubbled jaw was burrowed into the crook of her neck. His nearness, just the sensation of his skin against hers was making her flesh goosepimple. Everywhere. It had been a very long month without him.

All five senses achingly aware of her, Michael slowly opened his eyes. He wanted her again, was instantly rock-hard against her. He shouldn't have been surprised. It was never enough, never be enough, no matter how many time they made love. The wanting never seemed to stop, but it was so much more than that. It was the sound of her voice, the touch of her hand on his, a private smile in the middle of Section when no-one else was with them. The longing was the sum of many parts, and every single one of them was scorched into his mind, his body.

Nikita grinned happily at the stomach-fluttering sensation of warm lips brushing the nape of her neck. Stretching lazily, she arched herself against him, relishing his body's instant reaction as she moved against him. Nikita chuckled softly as Michael's hands gripped her hips admonishingly, before pressing herself closer still. A groan of defeat rumbled in his chest. Coming fully awake, he tugged on her hips, turning her body over to face him.

Michael skimmed a hand down her arm, his open palm coming to rest on her hip. He closed his eyes, wondering if such a simple gesture would ever stop making his heart skip a beat. God, she is beautiful. And she is mine.

"Good morning." His accent always seemed thicker after sleep and, after all these years of hearing it, it still sent a thrill down her spine every time. Nikita peered over his shoulder at the small clock on her bedside table, and laughed softly. Two o'clock in the morning. She ran her fingers lightly along his jaw before trailing kisses in their wake.

"Well, technically." She smiled at him. "It is morning...but only just." She brushed her lips against his, coaxing his mouth open before slipping her tongue gently between his lips, desperate to taste him again. Michael needed no coercing, and they were both breathless and trembling when she broke their kiss, stroking his face, her eyes drinking in the sight of him.

"But it is good."

She slipped her arms around him, shuddering softly in delight as her breasts brushed his chest, her nipples stiffening immediately at the contact. Nikita buried her face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of his skin. God, how she had missed him. They'd made love twice. Her body shivered with the memory of the sheer abandonment of it. They had clawed and bitten, caressed and soothed, her body now feeling as though she had just gone through boot camp and she still wanted him, wanted to crawl inside his skin and make him cry out her name.

Michael shifted slightly, easing his injured shoulder into a more comfortable position. There was still pain, but he didn't care. At the first touch of her hands on his body, he had stopped noticing anything apart from Nikita. She felt so warm in his arms, an irresistible contradiction of soft yielding flesh and sleekly muscled limbs, and he felt his heart start to race once more as she wriggled closer to him, her thighs brushing against his.

Nikita sucked some much needed air into her lungs, trying to cool down both her mind and body. He's injured, Nikita. Give the poor boy a chance to recover. She eyed him speculatively. If not for that bandage on his arm, there wasn' t much to indicate that he might not be at a hundred percent. It must be that Level Five training ... and here I am feeling as though I've been hit by a Mack truck!

Nikita's lips parted as though to speak, before she clamped them shut again. Michael waited patiently. She obviously had something to say to him, and he was sure that it was going to be interesting.

"I can't believe you made me go through all that stuff with the lipsticks!" Suddenly cranky, Nikita smacked him lightly on his uninjured arm, before curling her fingers through his tousled hair and drawing his face close again. His mouth was soft against hers, the touch of his tongue lightly dancing across her lips sending the butterflies in her belly cart wheeling once more.

Michael pulled away from her slightly, putting a hand up to her face. It was dark, but he was close enough so that she could see his eyes, those eyes of his that could tell her everything that his heart wanted to say. Her only regret was that it had taken her so long to learn how to read them.

He smirked at her, tilting his head to one side to study her, an eyebrow raised in mock disbelief. "Did you not enjoy it?"

Grateful for the cover of darkness, Nikita blushed at the memory of it but managed to grin back at him. She turned her head to kiss the palm of the hand touching her cheek. "You know I did."

Michael smiled at her reply and rubbed his face against hers, his hands coming up to tangle in her hair. Nikita moaned softly as his fingers pressed against her skull, gently pushing on the pressure points. Tangling her legs with his once more, she rubbed her foot along the inside of his calf, sparks seeming to shoot across her skin wherever it brushed against him. She heard him sigh, a melancholy sound at odds with their lightheartedness a moment before.

The sudden lump in Michael's throat was making it hard to speak, but he wanted her to understand just what she did for him, what she did to him every time he was with her. He spoke softly, the words floating on the darkness cradling them.

"Every time I am shot, or wounded ... every time I come close to death, your face is all I can see. Every hurt that I have ever caused you slaps me across the face, and it is though death itself is taunting me. All I can hear in my head is too late. Too late. Too late to make amends. Too late to tell you how I feel about you." He stopped, caressing her face before touching his mouth to hers in a gentle kiss that still managed to sear her lips. Michael took her hand and held it to his chest, pressing down on the steady thud of his heart. "That is why I came straight to you. I needed you so much, to feel your touch, to hold you, to feel as though I was really alive again. You always bring me back."

She bit her lip, trying to stop the tears that were welling up in her eyes from spilling over. It was quite a long speech for him, and he needed no distraction from her.

He hesitated when he saw her eyes glittering with moisture, but forced himself to go on. Having someone with whom he could be completely honest was still a luxury that he had to adjust to, but he knew that she needed this new level of intimacy as much as he. She would be able to handle anything he told her ... after so many years of half-truths and secrets, the truth was a gift she treasured, no matter how harsh it seemed.

"Three of my team died yesterday. If this bullet had been two inches lower, I would have died too." He touched her face again, almost in apology as she turned pale, shock widening her eyes. "I almost didn't want to come here, didn't want to bring the scent of death into your home. But you were all I thought about, every moment of every day. So I came home to you, and your new lipsticks. I opened your door, saw the Christmas tree, heard you singing at the top of your lungs ... it was all so normal." His eyes searched hers almost fiercely, his pulse starting to race as he saw understanding flash across her face. She knows. She understands. "A normal life. My life with you, not with Section."

He paused, his thumb caressing her eyebrow in a gesture so familiar, so tender that Nikita could literally feel herself melting into him. "It was as though my heart had started beating again."

"C'est seulement avec vous que je suis vraiment vivant." He pressed her hand harder against the thumping of his heart, his skin warm beneath her splayed fingers. He smiled at her blank look, but made no apology. Michael never found speaking English a problem, but there were times that his feelings were just too much, too intense. Lapsing into his native tongue just seemed to be right when he was with her. "Je ne puis pas vivre sans vous."

Nikita took a deep breath, running her fingers lightly up and down his back. Damn the man. He could be telling her that he hated her new haircut or that he was just going to take the garbage out, and it would still send her insides into major meltdown.

She ran her hands lightly up his arms, tracing the outline of the bandage on his shoulder delicately, before taking his face in her hands. He closed his eyes as she pressed feather-light kisses along his jaw, his eyelids, his forehead, finally kissing the frown between his eyebrows away.

Michael gathered her in his arms, holding her so tightly that she could scarcely breathe. "I am glad that you were here, that you were not on this mission. You were safe. But I also wanted you to be out there with me, by my side, and I hate myself for it." He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers. He found what he was looking for, empathy burning in the luminous blue depths in the semi-darkness. "There is no one else is this world that I trust as I trust you. Inside and outside Section."

"Michael..." Nikita tried to swallow the emotion swelling up in her throat. "You have saved me more times than I can remember, more times than I ever deserved. Anything that I can give back to you will never be enough. You have nothing to feel guilty about, okay?" She tightened her arms across his broad back, reveling in the sense of peace that being in his arms gave her. "I would do anything to keep you safe. Anything just to keep you."

Michael's heart swelled with a tangled wave of feeling, love and gratitude colliding with relief and more than a tinge of guilt. He kissed her hard, his mouth warm and open on hers, his tongue exploring her mouth with a sense of urgency.

Nikita moaned low in her throat. It was as though Michael was stealing her very breath away, her pulse starting to hammer in her ears as he moved against her, his body hard and insistent. Wait. There had been something that she had wanted to say before she lost herself in him again. Nikita eased herself out of the heated kiss gently, trying not to laugh at the look of loss on his face.

Giving him a tremulous smile, she took a deep breath as she mentally flipped through the French grammar book that she had been reading during her downtime. She blinked back sudden tears as his whispered words clicked into English in her head, a bittersweet memory floating through her soul. Leaning forward, she kissed him softly, feeling his lips curve in a surprised but delighted smile against hers as she answered him.

"I can't live without you, either."

~*~*~*~*~

Nikita opened her eyes, blinking slowly through the remnants of the now-forgotten dream that had awakened her. Pale early morning sunlight was struggling to penetrate her windows. Probably around six. She twisted around to see her clock, and burst out laughing.

Michael gazed bleary-eyed at her from the depths of his pillow, not bothering to move his head at all. Every muscle in his body ached, a languid exhaustion that owed nothing to the mission and everything to Nikita.

"Something I said?"

Pure joy fizzed up in her chest and she was helpless with laughter, her eyes blurring with tears as she took in the sight of that beautiful face, softened by sleep, sporting a very unusual mix of stubble and colour. What a vision to wake up to! She propped herself up on her elbow, head on her hand, her whole body shaking with laughter.

Well, I guess we now know that any lipstick will rub off under extreme conditions! Reaching over him, she grabbed a tissue and swiped at his mouth. He quirked an eyebrow at her but didn't flinch as she did her best to remove the streaks of makeup from his lips and chin.

Michael sighed inwardly, musing once again that it was a very good thing that her apartment was no longer under surveillance. Nikita grinned at him, managing to get her giggles under control long enough to explain.

"I don't think that shade suits you." I wonder what you would have done if I'd spat on the tissue first? She tried to stifle the laugh that the thought produced, but failed miserably. The more bemused Michael looked, the more she laughed, the tears streaming down as she pictured him submitting to her attentions with a suspiciously damp kleenex.

He smiled as he watched her, the sound of her laughter tumbling over him, a wave of warmth that was taking him down in its undertow. Their lives in Section had never held much joy, but Nikita always found what little there was to be had and seized it, with open hands and an open heart. Michael could feel his own spirit relaxing, unfolding from its tightly wound confines. It was the same every time he was with her.

"Nikita?"

"Hmmm?" She wiped her eyes and tried to choke down another snort of mirth.

"What you were singing when I, uh, surprised you?" The question seemed to have the effect of dousing her in cold water, embarrassment staining her cheeks as she stopped laughing and ducked her head. Michael smiled smugly. Thought you were off the hook, did you?

He knew that she only sang when she thought she was alone, and that she would have been mortified when she found out that he'd been listening to her. He tried his best to look serious as he watched the colour flush her face.

"Uh, it's called Shut Up."

"Is that really what it's called?" He'd already looked at the CD cover, but he seemed to be on a roll when it came to teasing her today.

"Ah, no." She grinned at him, her embarrassment dissolving under his affectionate scrutiny. "It's called Shut Up and Kiss Me."

"It certainly seemed to inspire you." He was smiling into her eyes, and she felt the same old tug of longing in her heart. She reached out and touched the small cut above his eyebrow, circling it tenderly with a fingertip.

"Yeah, well ..." She shrugged. "I haven't been able to stop singing it for days now. It's how I was feeling. I was, uh, missing you and ..." Nikita paused as she caught the look of pure male satisfaction on his face. Cheeky bugger.

"Sorry I made you wait for it." The outraged look on her face at his smug apology was almost worth taking a bullet for. He wouldn't have missed it for the world.

She blinked at his tone, for once completely stuck for words. Hmmm, think you're pretty good, hey? Well, I think you must have gone on one too many successful Valentine missions, matey. She shrugged at him casually, hoping he couldn't hear the hammering of her heart against her ribs as she remembered the kiss that he'd finally given her.

"Wait for what? The kiss? No problem. I could have waited longer."

Michael studied her through narrowed eyes, taking in her flushed face and slightly unsteady voice.

"Really?" Nikita failed to notice the sudden steely glint of intent in his gaze and was quite unprepared for the hands that covertly reached for her hips.

"Oh, yeah. No big deal ... oomph!"

Michael rolled onto his back swiftly, taking her with him. Nikita gasped as he settled her on top of him, his hands hard on her hips. Leaning down, she brushed her lips against his, teasing and nibbling at the fuller bottom lip, smirking in satisfaction as his body instantly stirred under hers once more, his hips subtly thrusting upwards.

They stared at each other, Nikita's now-dry hair hanging around their faces, a pale curtain of scented silk. The air around them was practically humming, an erotic gauntlet thrown down between them. Michael broke the silence reluctantly, the words breathed against her mouth.

"I have to go back in shortly. I shouldn't be gone more than a few hours." He hated saying the words, but there was no avoiding the fact that he would have to get out of this bed very soon.

Michael watched as disappointment clouded Nikita's eyes, some of the light going from her face as she looked away sadly. Determined to act as though he hadn't noticed, he spoke again, keeping his tone light.

"Would you like to rent The Pillow Book again tonight? We could see how it actually ends." His eyes intently focused on her face, his heart lightened as her gaze swung around to meet his again, a smile of mischievous delight curving her mouth. He slid his hands under the covers and then slowly up her thighs, higher and higher. Michael smiled as her breathless moan confirmed that he found his intended target.

Her voice was a low gurgle in her throat.

"Later. We'd only end up paying a late fee on it again, anyway." She grinned, quirking an eyebrow at him as she brushed his mouth with her lips once more, running her hands greedily over his chest.

"Are you sure? I could run out and get ..." His words were cut off, swallowed up by a kiss that made his head swim. Finally feeling the need to breathe, he reluctantly pulled his mouth away from Nikita's.

His voice sounded very unsteady in his ears. "Fine. No movie tonight. We should eat something now, though. Did you want me to..." Michael's train of thought was suddenly and totally derailed by Nikita's wandering hands and mouth.

She smirked down at him, her eyes glittering with wicked purpose.

"Michael, all I want you to do is shut up."

~*~*~*~*~

December 25th

Nikita twitched her toes against the something that was brushing against her foot annoyingly, her mind still anchored firmly in sleep. Foot is cold, her brain complained as Nikita burrowed deeper beneath the feather eiderdown.

Michael watched her intently, grinning as he saw a small frown appear between her eyebrows. She will never, ever be a morning person. He had learned the hard way that it was not a good idea to wake her up too abruptly. Which is why he was now sitting at the edge of the bed, stroking the soft sole of her foot with his fingertips. He had seen her toes poking out from underneath the covers, and hadn't been able to resist. She finally came awake, turning onto her back in surprise as she saw him.

He's here. Happiness bubbled up in her chest at the sight of him, and all she could do was beam at him, speechless with surprise.

"Good morning." Michael smiled down at her as she blinked sleepily up at him.

A dozen questions shot through her sleep-fuddled brain, and it pounced on the most pressing one. "What are you doing here?"

He raised his eyebrows at her, pretending to be offended. "Merry Christmas to you, too."

Nikita grinned at him and raised her face for a kiss. He obliged immediately, so thoroughly that within seconds they were both breathless. Coming up for air, Nikita reached up a hand to caress his face and whispered back, "Merry Christmas, Michael." Leaning down, he pressed his cheek against hers, the warm rough texture of his stubbled jaw sending a shiver of goosebumps all over her body, despite the warmth of her Christmas pyjamas.

Over his shoulder, Nikita glanced around her room. He'd lit all her candles again. She looked towards her window. Pitch black outside.

"Michael, it wouldn't happen to be incredibly early in the morning, would it?" Michael only smiled again, moving slightly so he was blocking her view of the alarm clock. Nikita narrowed her eyes at him before grabbing hold of his wrist, pulling it towards her face so that she could see his watch.

Nikita flopped back onto the bed, a hand over her eyes. "Michael! It's not even five a.m. yet!" She took her hand away to peer at him. "You look exhausted, what on earth are you doing here this early? I thought you had to be in Section today."

"I was." Nikita stared at him in surprise. "I've been at Section for a few hours already this morning. I reviewed every potentially hostile situation on board. There doesn't seem to be a lot happening at the moment." He gave her a wry smile, one hand reaching down to brush the hair back from her face.

"Did you know that during World War One, the English and German armies that were stationed in France called a ceasefire on Christmas Day and played football in No Man's Land?"

Nikita grinned at him. "I do recall Sister Margaret trying to drill such a fact into my head when I was in the ninth grade."

Michael's eyes widened slightly at the mention of Sister Margaret, but he carried on. "It seems as though some things in this life are consistent. No terrorist activity, no political unrest. At least, none that our sources are picking up." He stretched out beside her on the bed on top of the covers, his head on her spare pillow. His pillow.

"So ..." He paused for a moment, loving the look of delighted anticipation that had flooded Nikita's face.

Exasperating man. "So ...?" Nikita prompted him, digging her fingers into his side, just under the ribcage. She smiled in satisfaction as he jumped and grabbed hold of her hand. Should never have let me know you were ticklish there, buddy.

"So ... I'm all yours all day today." His voice sounded tired.

"Really...all mine, all day." Eyes closed, Nikita reached out a hand to touch his hair, pulling lightly on the longer curls that brushed his collar. "And just what should I do with you, all day today? Hmmm?"

No answer.

"Michael?" A soft snore was her only answer. She propped herself up on her elbows to be greeted by the sight of Michael, fully dressed with his shoes on, fast asleep on the top of the covers.

~*~*~*~

"You bought me my own copy of The Pillow Book?" She beamed at him, a wide grin of delight curving her mouth.

"Hmmm. I was getting a bit tired of paying the late fees, and I have the feeling that the video store clerk was beginning to believe that I was some sort of pervert."

They were sitting cross-legged on the floor in Nikita's living room, surrounded by the remains of a late breakfast and shredded wrapping paper. Nikita hadn't bothered to change out of her pyjamas, but she'd managed to find one of Michael's clean t-shirts in her laundry basket for him to wear with his jeans. She couldn't quite get over the fact that they were having this time together, and found herself sneaking quick peeks at Michael when she thought he wasn't looking, as though to reassure herself that he was actually there.

Michael looked up and saw her staring at him. Smiling at her, he was surprised at the flush of colour that suffused her face, as though he'd caught her doing something she shouldn't be doing. He let his eyes roam over her, his mouth twitching at what Nikita was wearing. She looked as though she'd just come off the set of a movie set in the 1950's, sitting cross-legged in hot pink pyjamas that had a pattern of red hibiscus flowers rioting all over them.

He met her eyes and found her gazing at him once again. "What are you looking at? Do I have crumbs on my chin?" He brushed his fingers across his mouth.

Nikita flashed him a brilliant smile and eased herself up from her sitting position. She slowly prowled towards him across the field of ripped wrapping paper on her hands and knees, eyes locked on his.

"I'm not sure. I'd better check, hmmm?" Michael swallowed hard as she stopped in front of him, her face only a breath away from his. He watched as her gaze caressed his face, studying his mouth lingeringly before coming back to meet his eyes.

"What's your assessment?" Michael felt his heart start to race as Nikita tilted her head towards him, bringing her lips closer to his. He could smell the spicy scent of her shampoo, and the heat of her body seemed to seep through his thin t-shirt to warm his own skin.

"That intel is still not confirmed. I think I might have to go over the ... uh, figures again." She dropped her gaze to his chest and lower, a burning caress that left him shifting his legs restlessly. Nikita dipped her head and touched his bottom lip lazily with her tongue, holding his eyes with hers.

Michael's lips parted on a unsteady breath and she slipped her tongue between them. He tasted of coffee and buttery croissant, sweet and savoury at the same time. The sensation made her head swim, and she kissed him fiercely, her fingers digging into his knees as he kissed her back, one hand slipping behind her head as his tongue swept her mouth urgently.

The quiet chirping of Michael's phone on the kitchen bench was like a sheet of cold water. They broke apart and stared at each other, breathless. He looked at Nikita, knowing that the quiet despair he saw on her face was reflected in his own. Michael uncrossed his legs and stood up reluctantly, trying to swallow the lump of disappointment in his throat. Nikita grabbed hold of his hand, tears welling in her eyes as she looked up at him.

"Don't answer it." He watched unhappily as she angrily brushed away the fat tear that had rolled down her cheek. Michael crouched down to look her in the face, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to her forehead.

"I have to." He walked slowly to the kitchen. Holding the phone in his hand, he eyed the kitchen wastebasket beneath the bench contemplatively. Not a good idea. He sighed with resignation and took the call.

"Yes?" Nikita watched as Michael turned his back to her, his head tilted slightly to one side as he listened to the caller.

"N-o-o..." Nikita buried her head in her hands groaning, as she strained her ears to hear Michael's end of the conversation. As usual, he was speaking so softly she could hardly hear him.

"Fine. Thank you. No, I'll tell her."

Nikita stared at him as he ended the call, her heart sinking to the bottom of her stomach. It's not fair. No matter what she told herself, she did feel cheated ... cheated of every second that Section took away from them.

Michael turned and gazed at her, his face unreadable, still holding the phone in his hand.

Nikita felt her heart plummet even further, but she had to know. It's not fair. "What is it?"

"I have five days downtime." He paused, before deliberately turning off his phone, a knowing smile curving his lips as he let his eyes wander intently over her pyjama-clad form.

"And so do you."

THE END

Shut Up (Kiss Me) ~~~ Paul McDermott & Fiona Horne

I was caught by your smile under a blushing moon
you were the only one left there
your words poured like wine over an open wound
you were the only one left there

with sky born blue gray eyes
sky born blue gray eyes

Pale-like folds over a broken bed
you were the only one left there
cold hands in mine
your lips were bruised and black
you were the only one left there

Shut up and kiss me now, kiss me now, kiss me now,
I have been patient, but patience is gone.
Shut up and kiss me now, kiss me now, kiss me now,
All of my vision has blurred into one.
Ah just shut up, just shut up, just shut up and kiss me now.

The cool of the night fell on us like a ghost
you were the only one left there
I wept as a child, wept for the life I'd lost
you were the only one left there

with sky-born blue gray eyes
sky-born blue gray eyes

Shut up and kiss me now, kiss me now, kiss me now
I have been patient, but patience is gone.
Shut up and kiss me now, kiss me now, kiss me now,
All of my vision has blurred into one.
Just shut up, just shut up, just shut up and kiss me now.

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