Birkhoff sat at the bar, staring at the rest of the room through the mirror behind it. Everyone here was having fun, talking and dancing. There was a wide variety of music being played and he noted that some of the groups being played were in his own collection.

Downing the last of his drink, he sub-vocalized, "Michael, are you sure there was no way you could have talked Madeline out of this?" He waved his glass tipsily at the bartender who was attempting to figure out how a person could get drunk on Shirley Temples.

"No, Birkhoff." Michael stated flatly over the com-unit, not showing in his voice the toothy smile on his face. "She was emphatic on this training exercise. She said something about the improvement in your performance after the little jaunt you took with Nikita." He couldn't believe he was sitting here in the van playing a Psuedo-Cyrano. His mind flashed back to the pre-briefing in Madeline's office.

****

Michael had just seated himself in front of Madeline's desk when she turned towards him,

"I want you to run a training exercise for Birkhoff."

"Performance-study? An impossible sim-situation?" Birkhoff's work was as reliable as always.

"No, nothing like that. After his little escapade with Nikita, I have decided he needs more outside contact and training. It seems he is still spending too much of his time surrounding himself only with Section. There may be a day when he will be called upon to do more then just sit in front of a monitor in the van or here at Section. We want to make sure he can deal with different situations."

"All right. What type of situation you want me to set up?" he asked. He sat there thinking that it was going to be some sort of high risk scenario ... maybe "bring in the scum," or something along that line.

"We want him to go to a singles bar ... alone."

Michael had nearly lost his teeth when he had heard that.

***

Now here they were, Michael in the van, Birkhoff sitting in a bar all but whimpering. Part of Michael felt sorry for him and part had a job to do and did it with a steely intensity, but he had to admit that he secretly found the entire thing amusing.

"Damn it," Birkhoff said aloud without thinking. The bartender turned his head. Birkhoff blushed, "Sorry." Then, saying to himself, "I wish I was still at home with my joy-stick."

Michael quickly snapped off the broadcast switch and busted out laughing. 'It is a good thing no one else was assigned to this,' Michael thought to himself.

Chapter 2.

They had been at this for over an hour and Michael was getting impatient. He knew he was not allowed to help Birkhoff in any way unless, of course, Birkhoff asked for help or advice about a specific situation. But him just sitting at the bar speaking to no one was getting a little ridiculous.

"Just sitting there like a lump is not getting you anywhere, Birkhoff. At this rate we will be here all night. If you don't get through the exercise tonight, we will probably have to do this all over again tomorrow."

"EEP!" was all that Michael heard over the comm unit.

***

Birkhoff almost spilt his Shirley Temple into his own lap when he heard. "Please help, I can't do this two nights in a row......I just can't."

"Then get on with the exercise. You know what it is. All you have to do is meet a nice woman and carry on an interesting, intelligent conversation." He heard.

"But how?"

"How what? I don't understand the question. You have to be more specific."

"Fine, just fine. Be that way."

Michael had never hear someone spit out a phrase in that fashion while sub-vocalizing and wondered just how Birkhoff had managed it.

"Ok, What would be the easiest way to meet a woman in a place like this, without seeming like a total imbecile," he tossed back the last of his fifth Shirley Temple and ordered another. "Step by step."

"We went through all this back at Section. There are no hard core rules. Just the basic outline, which you already have."

Birkhoff closed his eyes and went through the talk he and Michael had had before they left Section. Opening his eyes, he scanned the mirror behind the bar. He was looking for a nice looking woman who seemed to be alone. As he was nearing his second pass, looking at all those sitting behind him, he caught a flash glimpse of someone who could have been a dead ringer for Nikita.

"Nikita," he thought to himself, "wait till he got his hands on her. If she had not taken him to that bar a few months ago, he would not be going through this now." He took a longer look and nearly swallowed his tongue. She was starring right back at him. She had a sweet smile on her face and a sort of sparkle in her eyes.

"Michael, she is starring at me. Michael? Michael ..."

***

Michael let out a sigh of relief and leaned back in the chair. 'Maybe, just maybe.' He thought to himself.

"Michael? MICHAEL?!!" There was panic in Birkhoff's voice.

"Birkhoff, what's up? Is everything all right?"

"....she's coming. She is walking right towards me."

"Is that all?"

"Is that ALL?!" Michael was almost certain those beside Birkhoff had heard that last remark. "She's, she's..... but.... what ... how ... uh .... I .... Micha .... I ..... uh ..... she .... wha..."

"Relax, she is just another person ... not some two headed creature who is about to eat you .. and your hard drive too." Michael smiled. He knew he shouldn't have said that, but he just couldn't resist the temptation. This entire situation was just too weird for words.

Chapter 3

The closer she got, the frightened Birkoff became. He slammed back the last gulp of his sixth Shirley Temple, as though it would give him courage. In the attempt to order another, he choked and sputtered.

The bartender, as though psychic, had one prepared and ready. A look of concern was on his face as he sat down the drink in front of Birkoff. In spite of the fact the young man was obviously breathing, his face was turning bright red, on the verge of purple. He looked around for the boss, and maybe some other help should it be needed. He then saw the reason for the young mans discomfort walking towards them. Turning away from Birkoff, the bartender let out a bark of laughter which cause half the patrons seated at the bar to jump, including Birkoff.

Realizing he was being laughed at, Birkoff was starting to get mad when he felt a hand touch his shoulder. Spinning around, he found himself face to face with his beautiful Nikita-look-a-like. All the anger he felt drained from his body. Then again, all thought had left, also. He couldn't breath. It felt as though he had swallowed an Oreo whole and it had gone down wrong, closing of his throat as if it were security door back in Section.

She was absolutely beautiful, and he realized it was only the light in the bar and the distance which had made her look like Nikita. She really didn't look much like her at all. She had blond hair and green eyes. Deep green eyes which Birkoff thought he was going to fall into. Her skin, which at the moment had a slight blush to it, was only slightly tanned.

"I couldn't help but notice you. You must be new here, because I know I would have remember someone as cute as you."

Birkoff pulls out the stool beside him as he valiantly succeeds in swallowing that damned Oreo he didn't swallow. Taking her hand from his shoulder and kissing the back of if, a move he had seen Michael successfully use on Nikita, introduces himself as he helps her to the stool. "Hello, I am Seymour. And you?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. My name is Sharry....with an 'a'. I'm a little nervous. I normally don't do things like this, but you were just so cute, I felt I had to make a move before someone else did." She smiled at him with a smile which was so sweet it made him feel much less nervous.

"That is okay." He said. "And you were right, this is my first time here. I am generally so busy, I don't have the time to just take off and do nothing."

"Oh, what do you do?"

"I run my own business as a Security Computer Specialist." he handed her one of the business cards Printing rush to make for him back in Section.

"I am into computers to an extent. A friend of mine helped me build my own so I would have an understanding of them. He was always worried about some greasy repairman soaking me for needless repairs."

Birkoff laughed gently. "Would that more people would build their own personal computer just to get a good understanding of how they work. I had one customer, thought he knew about computers....." Birkoff laughs again, "every time something new came out, a mouse, a backup drive, a larger hard-drive, he felt that he had to buy an entirely new system to get it. I took me years to convince him of the fact that it was both cheaper in parts and labor to just upgrade. I had to almost lie to him and tell him he was breaching his own networks security to get him to stop. It didn't cause too much of a security risk for him, just a lot more UNNECESSARY work for me."

"But there is no phone number on the card." Sharry states.

Birkoff and Michael both jump.

****

Michael, who was beginning to think he could finally start to relax, had leaned back in the chair. Actually, he had started to get bored again. Thoughts of Nikita and things he would love to be doing with her at that very moment started to fill his mind. In this particular fantasy, she was standing before him, fresh from the shower, wearing nothing but a towel. As she dropped the towel, he heard, "But there is no phone number on the card." (Talk about Fantasy Interuptus.)

"Damn," he says to himself. "I knew that there was something missing on those things, I just couldn't put my finger on it." They had had to rush around at the last minute because Birkoff was dragging his feet, whining about not wanting to go through with this, until Michael had had to remind him that probably saying 'no' to Madeline or Operations was the last wrong move a person could make.

Now, if those cards screwed things up, and Birkoff was unable to come up with a convincing reason as to why those cards had no phone number, both Birkoff's and his rear ends would be toasted to a nice golden brown over the eternal flames of Madeline; probably his more than Birkoff's.

Before he could say anything though, he heard Birkoff start to explain why to the young lady, and held his breath.

Chapter 4

"Oh, that. I work only on exclusive contracts. As it stands, I have more work than I can generally handle, so I am not actively looking for new clients." Birkoff watched her and saw that she was drinking in his explanation and continued, "If one of my clients recommends me to someone, then they will let me know about it the next time we talk. I then contact the possible new client, get a run down on their set up, and then make the decision as to whether or not to take the job. I am to the point now were I can pick and choose which jobs I want to take. If it seems like it will be a challenge, then I will probably take it. Fortunately, I don't really have to worry about money. At least half of the clients I work for are pure porfit."

"Oh, how wonderful for you. I wish I could set up something like that. Unfortunately, I have never been smart enough to come up with something. I have always dreamed of doing something which would allow my to retire early and just enjoy life. You must be so smart and...." she looks him up and down, "t-a-l-e-n-t-e-d."

Birkoff blushed. He felt a warm and tingling sensation of a type he had never experienced before.

The sat there and talked, not paying attention to anyone else in the room. The time flew by for them, yet seemed like an eternity to Michael.

***

Michael was beside himself. He sat there enduring the "giggles" of this young lady he heard over Birkoff's comm-unit. It was almost as if the two people he was listening to were teenagers and their childishness was getting to him.

He really though he had lost it when he heard Birkoff giggle to something she had said. He wasn't sure just how much more of this he could take. Birkoff could be bad enough when he was in a playful mood back at Section, this was starting to make Michael ill.

Yet, a part of him was still happy for Birkoff. He was finding out that there was a life outside of Section....part sad because this would, in the long run create pain for Birkoff when he realized that Section would never allow him to have anything serious.

But the exercise was for him to be able to meet someone alone, get to know the person and carry on a conversation without freaking. Not to make a friend....or fall in love.

***

"LAST CALL."

"Guess they are getting ready to close up." Birkoff said sadly. He hadn't know a time when he had enjoyed being with someone so much.

"I feel as though we had just gotten to know each other." Sharry sighed. "I wish the night wouldn't end."

"Well, would you be interested in getting a couple of coffee?"

"Sure! Let me go freshen up first." She stood up. "Be right back." Turning, she started across the room towards the facilities.

Birkoff watched her, noticing the sway of her hips as she made her way across the room. He decided that she was definitely a beauty.

Chapter 5

When Michael heard the 'last call' he was beginning to think that the evening was over. That is until he heard the were going to go out for coffee. "Great, this had better be the fastest cup of coffee in history," he thought to himself.

Just then he heard, "Michael? Uh, Michael....?"

"Yes, Birkoff?"

"Is this supposed to happen....?"

"Is what supposed to happen?"

"Sharry just went to freshen up and....well....she walked into the 'Men's Room." Birkoff heard a something fall over the comm-unit.

***

Michael fell off his chair when he heard that Sharry went into the men's room. He could hear the mirth in his voice as he said, "No. The exersize is over, return to the van immediately. I will explain as soon as you get here. Return immediately.

Back at section, Michael was met by Madeline.

"How did it go?" she asked.

"Fine. He passed." Michael could barely keep himself under control. He kept trying to escape from Madeline.

"So...what happened?"

"Ask Birkoff," losing it and starting to laugh, Michael all but ran from Madeline. Madeline walked over to the hatch just as Birkoff came through. Birkoff looked at her. "Don't start."

"Don't start what? How did it go." She looked at him with a blank stare.

"Not now, not ever." Birkoff refused to look her in the eye.

"Fine. See me in the morning, you still need to be completely de-briefed." she said.

"AARRGG" Birkoff screamed and took off at a dead run.

Madeline went back to her office with a smirk on her face. She guessed that she was going to have to contact Larry/Sharry, the transvestite she hired for the evening and get all the dirt on what had happened........

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