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

"I hate to work this way," the man behind the desk growls into the stack of papers he is shuffling in front of him.

"I know, none of us do," Michael replies, shuffling his own stack. "But what can we do? This all the intel Birkoff has gathered at the moment. According to his figures, it will be another few hour at best before the rest comes in."

Looking at her watch, Nikita speaks. "Fortunately, we still have 3 days before the terrorist fires the missiles."

Both men look at her with that "blank stare" it seems all MALE agent cultivate. With Michael it isn't so bad, she has, if not gotten used to it, learned to tolerate it. But with Das Tiermann, this man she met only today, it seems to chill her to the bone. It doesn't help that, even though Michael is technically his superior, he had been deferring to him on some of the more dangerous strategies.

"Well," Michael said raising from his chair and looking at Nikita, "this is as far as we can go until the rest of the Intel comes in. Why don't we take a break."

Das Tiermann, nods in agreement. "Operations will give at least an hour before final briefing once the remainder of the Intel comes in."

Michael and Nikita leave the office with Nikita almost backing her way out. As she turns to exit the door, she can almost swear that she hears a chuckle from behind her. As Michael walks quickly away from the office towards the cafeteria, she speeds up just to stay with him. "Coffee?" he asks without looking at her.

"Sounds good!" she sighs. Once they are far enough from the office, she pulls on Michael's arm to stop him. "Ok, what's the story there."

"What do you mean?" A puzzled look crosses Michael's face.

"Tiermann!"

"Oh. I was wondering how long it would take you to ask...." he grins at her, "...especially once I saw all the goosebumps on your skin.....and two times you shivered." He runs a finger up and down her bare arm. "Goosebumps look good on you, you should wear them more often."

Her mind starts to wonder to what those fingers could and have done to her in the past, but she forces her thoughts back to Tiermann. This man make her nervous....no he actually scares her a little. "Tiermann!!" she said brushing his finger off her arm.

Michael sighs. she's in one of those moods again, he thinks to himself. "Well, no one knows too much, and really, no one wants to. I know some things, but no where near as much as Op's or Madeline."

"Then spill it, Michael."

"Fine," and he motions her around the corner out of the main flow of traffic. "Tiermann was military, part of a group more secret than Black Ops, killers of last resort, sent in to destroy all living things......and when I say all, I mean all: adults, children, pets, cattle, wildlife, vegetation...even bacteria."

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

Nikita gasps.

"He joined us shortly after the Gulf War. His teams last mission was to take out a town warehousing biologicals. His orders were to take out all chemicals and biologicals in the town and report when finished." Michael chuckles that little chuckle he has when someone ends up screwing themselves up. "He reported all right. The mission was successful, too successful. They ended up giving him a choice: Discomendation or Section One."

"Everyone was killed, children?" Nikita shivers at the thought. Then the last part of what Michael had said hits her. "But why discomendation? Why Section?" She cannot believe what she is hearing, the mission was a success.

"Like I said, it was too successful. When the higher echelon realized that he had killed his own men....at their orders, because he had taken them literally....they knew that they had no way to cope with him. At least they realized that they couldn't release him back to civilian life. The only choice was to find a place for him or imprison him for the rest of his natural life."

"So, Section recruited him? They felt they could control him?" Nikita asks. "Control someone who would kill, not only the enemy, but his own men?"

"Oh, you don't have to worry about him, 'cheri." Michael caresses her check. "I don't! In fact, I would trust him with my life, provided I knew exactly what his orders are before we left."

"You mean he doesn't.........?"

"No!" Michael cuts her off, "Tiermann, is a literalist. Probably the most literal literalist I have ever met."

Nikita visibly relaxes. Michael gently pulls her to him, enfolding her in his arms. Gently sandwiching her between himself and the wall, be begins kissing her face....her eyes....the tip of her nose.....her lips, gently parting them with is tongue for a deep and lingering kiss. She returns his kiss more and more passionately, until her need matches his. Lifting her legs, she locks them around his waist.

Without warning, a bell chimes and the section of the wall they are leaning against slides away. Falling through, they find themselves sliding head first down the laundry chute, Nikita's legs still locked around Michael. In the darkness, Nikita can see nothing, and all she can hear is an angry string of French spewing from the mouth of Michael.

Probably a good thing I don't know French, she thinks to her self, else I might have to wash his mouth out with soap. She giggles when she realizes what just went through her mind and were they are heading.

"I don't find this funny, Nikita." Michael says once he regains control of himself.

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

Just about then, they arrive with a thud at the closed exit of the chute. Twisting around so he can reach his pocket knife, Michael slides the blade between the door and the chute. With a POP, the catch gives-way and the two of them fall into a huge laundry cart full of warm sheets not long out of the dryers.

Nikita, trying hard not to laugh, looks up into Michael's anger-darkened forest-green eyes. Even though she has seen his eyes change with his mood, she marvels at this particular shade. It captivates her, draws her in, seduces her in spite of his anger. The weight of his body on hers remind her of so many other times he was on top of her. Deep in her chest, she feel her heart hammering with more then just the excitement of the wild ride they had just taken.

Michael head pops up above the edge of the laundry cart, looking to see if anyone is around, then checks to make sure both of them are all right. Looking down at her, he starts to ask how she is and the words freeze in his throat. Her eyes, they capture him in their gaze. Sinking deeper into their blueness, he notices how pale the blue has become...almost a pale sky-blue. His fascination with how they lighten when she is happy is rejoined, intensified and even invading. He feels himself forgetting what had just happened; feels the heat of her body beneath him, her legs still wrapped around his waist. He feels his heart trying to leap out of his chest and knows that it has nothing to do with what the slide.

Michael and Nikita begin moving around, not sure if they are attempting to get more comfortable or get out of the cart. Their struggles, succeed in only tying Nikita's ankles tightly together, raising the her dress up to her waist, and rolling the cart half-way across the room. The feel of their bodies rubbing against each other excites them further. The warmth of Michael breath flows across Nikita's chest and down the front of her blouse. Nikita's nipples harden in response, growing harder by the second, forcing their presence to be acknowledged even through the lightly padded bra she decided to wear today.

Michael stops his struggles. Felling Nikita's response to him through his shirt, his own body reacts. From the moment he met her, his body became the most perpetual of Judas', betraying it need for her faster and harder than he had ever believed possible. His own nipples grow hard, remembering what feeling her administrations could provide. His manhood, growing harder....faster then even the last time, strains for release from the tight confines of the black button-fly jeans he had imprisoned it in only that morning.

Nikita realizes Michael skin is growing warmer to the touch. She hears his breath getting huskier. Through the fabric of her panties, she feels his hardness expand to full size with such speed and need that she's flattered.

The iron rod replacing what was once flesh throbs as if it knows just how close it is to its goal. Michael moans almost silently as his manhood pulsates as though angry that mere fabric blocks it path to the velvety softness which awaits.

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

Feeling the trobbing, Nikita feels her own body, flush with excitement. The crotch of her panties become so wet that she can feel the moisture begin its gentle glide between the cheeks of her butt. She starts to moan, as the first and gentlest of orgasms takes her.

Michael smells her and cannot take anymore. He reaches down and rips her panties off. Holding them to his nose, he closes his eyes and inhales the woman he loves and for a moment the rest of the world ceases to exist.

Seeing this is too much for Nikita. With both hands she reaches for the waist of Michael's jeans and fights with the buttons to release the prize she knows is hidden behind them. Popping two of the buttons in the process, She pulled the front of his pants open. Squealing with angry frustration, Nikika starts kicking her feet. Quickly stopping, she realizes that her legs, still wrapped around Michael's hips, are tied together by the twisted sheets. Resigned to wait, she lets out a low moan of need knowing that she will have to wait until Michael decides to drop them.

Hearing Nikita's moan breaks Michael's revere. Looking down, he sees the problem and chuckles. Finding his closed knife only inches from Nikita's hand, he hold it up for her to see.

Damn, she thinks to herself, and it was right next to my hand all this time.

Gently, Michael runs the blade of the knife along all the seams of his jeans he can reach. With the threads cut in most of the areas, it is a simple thing for him to rip his pants off, leaving himself naked from the waist down. His body trembles only slightly as the breeze caused by the quickly moving fabric blows on the "finer hairs" of his body.

Nikita, looking down an Michael, shivers at the sight of his manhood, rock hard and jutting straight out from his body.....like a heat seeking missile pointing directly at its target....seemingly larger then ever before. It throbbed with power....and need, bouncing with each beat of his heart.

With the grace of a dancer, Michael slides down on top of her. Gently and slowly, he enters her at such a gradual pace that he feels 2 times longer than he is.

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

Each time Michael makes love to her, he becomes a worshiper of her body. Feelings of being unworthy of her, being nothing in the light of her magnificence, intrudes upon his consciousness. Yet, as her heat combines with his, his love for her flares with need, not only in his heart.

Nikita gasps! No mater how many times she has had him enter her, it still takes a moment to get used to him. She squirms slightly causing Michael to pause, just for a moment, so she can adjust to him. She smiles to herself, realizing how well they have become attuned to each others needs. Michael sees her smile and his fire for her burns even brighter.

Just when she feels him reach as far inside her as is humanly possible, his pubic hair meshes with her own. She sighs with pleasure, need, and a fire ignited only by him inside her. Nikita reaches up to him, drawing his mouth to hers. Parting his lips with her own, she first nips his lower lip then kisses him. She tastes the Irish Mocha coffee he had drank before their fall to this new nest of love they were creating.

She feels his hands cupping her breasts, measuring their shape, size, and texture with the gentlest of touches. She reaches up and returns the favor, tweaking each nipple with the gentlest of pinches.

Michael moans and she begins to feel him slide in and out of her, kissing her at the same time. Her eyes close instinctively, enjoying the sensations. She feels him brake the kiss as his lips begin the slow decent down to the arch of her neck, then back to her ears. She feels him nibbling on her lobe, then kisses it. He goes back to her neck, alternating between kissing and nibbling.

His pace is deliberately slow, deliberately gentle. His body knows hers, knows just how to driver her to higher and higher states of pleasure. She knows what will happen, cries out for it in vain knowing that he will never spoil it by going too fast.

Nikita begins sqirming. She attacks him with kisses, nibbles and small bites of passion. There will be bruises on him later, but none which will show.

Michael stops the motion of her hips, cupping her buttocks. "'cheri, patience." he breaths in her ear.

==========================================================

Madeline, after locking the door to her office, flops down on the couch. After so many hours on her feet, she finally is able to relax. Slipping off her heels, she tosses them across the room. Then, touching a hidden button under the edge of the couch, a hidden panel along the front of the armrest pops open. From here, she takes out her favorite pair of slippers and places them on her feet.

Reaching back into the hidden compartment, Madeline pulls out a bowl of cheese flavored fish-shaped crackers and the latest Danielle Steele novel. With a snap, she closes the compartment door and lays back to relax for an hour or so.

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

Not two pages into the story, Madeline hears her intercom buzz at her. With a big sigh, she struggles to her feet. Shuffling to her desk she presses the button. "Yes."

"My office, now." Operation's voice in his ice cold-hearted tones tells her.

Instantly, Madeline is pissed off. How dare he use that tone with me! She unlocks her office door so violently that she almost twists the knob off in her hand and slams the door open. Pounding her way through the hallways, slippered feet slap the floor so hard it almost sounds as if she has heels on.

Climbing the stairs to Operation's perch, she throws open the door and propels herself through.

=====================

Smelling agitation faintly in the air, Gail looks up from her console to see a pair of Neon Pick bunny slipper ears flopping around the ankles of someone climbing the stairs to Operation's office. Looking higher to see who the feet belonged to, she nearly spat the soda she was sipping on out her nose to keep from laughing. Madeline, bunny slipper, NEON PINK!!

---------------

After Madeline disappears through the doorway, Gail turns to tell Birkoff what she had just seen. At the site of him hunched over his monitor, one had typing furiously, the other going rapid fire from his mouth to the plate of Oreos and back, she starts thinking.

Walking over to his station, Gail reaches for an Oreo only to have her hand slapped away from the plate. Her first reaction, to get mad, is cut short when she looks and sees he has no idea she is standing beside him Geez, she thinks, talk about automatic responses! She stands there watching him as an evil smile spreads her lips into a toothy grin. This could be good.

Know the effects her teasing has on "Her Man," she already had a few ideas of what she would do. But in her mood, she wanted to push him over the edge right here where he could not and would not be able to do anything about it. Looking around she spied another of the female tech support agents. She remembered that Birkoff, only a couple of weeks ago, had told her that he thought she was cute in spite of the fact that she was always talking about one "beautiful waterfall" or another.

Catching the woman's attention, Gail winked at her and nodded her over to Birkoff. With a big grin on her face, Jane waited until Gail had pulled Birkoff, chair and all, away from his console. As Gale leans forward and pins, with a hand on each thigh, Birkoff to his chair, the opening of her blouse hangs loose granting him a view of her cleavage. So mesmerized by the site, Birkoff is unaware of Jane quietly rolling her computer chair over and positioning herself behind him.

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

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simon pauses the intel scanning up his monitors. Looking up, he sniffs the air. He smells something new....not new, just so damned infrequent he can't recognize it at first. He sniff again. Pheromones! he thinks to himself. Both male and female....

Hearing the noises behind him, he reaches for a special pair of glasses he designed. When he had first created them, he designed them so that he could view several monitors at a time. Since that time, he found he could plug them into the monitoring system and view what was happening in different locations without anyone knowing. Hitting a couple of switches on his console, he now had a ring side and sky-view seat for what was happening behind him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Squeezing his thighs, Gail starts slowly to slide her hands farther and farther up. Licking her lips, she stares Birkoff in the eye, both to intensify her effect on him and enjoy his responses. With her hands within an inch or two of bulls-eye, she stretches her thumbs out and starts to message the growing mound between his legs.

Taking her cue from Gail's subtle nod and Birkoff's tremble, Jane make her move. Gently, she drapes an arm over his shoulder and unbuttons a couple of his buttons while Gail kiss him forcing her tongue into his mouth keeping him quiet. Reaching into Birkoff's shirt, Jane begins playing with one of his nipples.

"Oh, I wish there was a waterfall near here," Jane breathed into his ear with a smile in her voice and a gentle pinch of his nipple, knowing this would tell him EXACTLY who was playing with his body from behind.

Birkoff let out one of his surprised "eeps" which was lost in Gail's kiss, causing both women to tremble with mirth. Both of Gail's hand hit the bulls-eye and began to message the hardness they felt there. Jane wraps her other arm around Birkoff's chest and reaches into his shirt. Once she finds his other nipple, she begins to play with them both in earnest....gently tweaking, messaging, pinching and tugging on them.

Birkoff's body begins to tremble with passion. Knowing the excitement of the situation they are in at that moment and knowing the signs, Gail knows he gone to the point of no return and steps up her message. Birkoff feels himself begin to shake; feels himself soar to a height he has never been before as a flood of warm wetness fills the crotch of his shorts. He continues to soar and the flood continues.

Gail feels the front of his pants begin to twitch and grow warm. Knowing what she has done to him has her so hot that she begins to feel the beginnings of her own response. Then, when, through the sense of touch, she feels his pants balloon only slightly with the result of his flood, she too has a minor flood of her own.

Jane looks up just in time to see one of the new ops, 'chelle if she remembered correctly, walking up the stair to Ops office followed by the ever-present Denny, a second-level ops.

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

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simon, so excited by the show going on behind his back, tries to adjust his position without causing any disturbance. Soon he would have to go off somewhere to deal with the situation. He couldn't wait to get home and review what had just happened in privacy. Then, he turns to shut off the recorders. Shit, dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb, he mentally beats himself in the head when he realizes that he forgot to turn them on. I guess it would be too much to hope that they would repeat the last 10 minutes for me?

=========================================

Madeline slams the door behind her rattling the every piece of bric-a-brac in the office and on the desk.

Operations looks up in surprise at her entrance. "What's wrong?" he asks thinking that something major has come up with the intel. Then he spies the slippers on her feet. "Cute footwear, never new you were into the warm fuzzy stuff." He says, smiling at his own cleverness.

"You will never treat me like that again!" she spits threw her clenched teeth.

"Wha....?"

"Th-th-that tone you used...." her anger causing her to stutter. "....when you "called" me in here." she finished, making the work called sound like a curse. "It sounded like you were calling Nikita to your office during her first year as a full Cold-Op. I won't have it."

Operation stands and walks over to her, he had never seen her so made. "I called you while I was going over some intel which was highly disturbing....I didn't mean....." the rest of his statement cut off by a resounding slap across his face.

Op's stood there stunned for a few moments. Then as her hand came up to slap him again, he smiled. Blocking it, he found himself flying head-over-heals and landing flat on his back. Before he could get his bearings, he heard the "snick, snick, snick, snick" of two pairs of hand cuffs cuffing him to the legs of his desk.

Now where did she have those hidden, he thought to himself. ....and why are they WARM?!

Looking up he sees her standing over him, one foot on either side, hands on hips, and a pink-bunnied foot tapping out a very impatient cadence. The look on her face sent him into flashbacks of other times he was being a "bad-boy", instantly turning him on.

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

Madeline, anger pounding in her ears with every beat of her heart, stands there looking down at Ops. "You will never use that tone on me again."

"Y-y-yes, ma'am." He answers contritely. His mind going over all the other times she had him in situations like this. His body becoming aroused by the lust he remembered.

That phrase caused something to click inside Madeline. Part of her separates from her anger and takes a another look at the man handcuffed to his desk, lying at her feet. She recognizes what is happening to him and knows that she has him where she wants him at the moment.

"You remember the first time you were in 'cuffs?" she said, a look of pure seductive evil on her face.

Ops nods.

"Good! Do you remember what I did with those electrodes?"

Ops nods again with a sparkle beginning to form in his eyes and a slightly hidden smile.

"Well.... I am not going to do that." Madeline states and begins to walk away.

Ops face falls in disappointment.

"There is also the time we picked up the acupuncture needles..." she says, turning back.

Ops face lit up again, expectantly.

"I don't think I'll do that either."

Ops turns his face away, pouting.

"Look at me." Madeline snaps at him. Ops turns his head towards her. She can see the desire mixed with his frustration. "Of course, there was that time we combined the Leather with one of the Cattleprods....."

Ops started to pull at the 'cuffs holding him to the legs of his desk. Madeline stands, pulling her dress off over her head. Ops' eyes bulge as he sees her only in a red lace Merry Widow and bunny slippers. Kicking off her bunny slippers, she walks over to him. Bending over, Madeline unfastened his belt. Then, with a strength only Ops' knew she possessed, she rips his pants and boxers off of him.

Straddling him, she slowly and deliberately impales herself on his rock-hard manhood. Once he is fully inside her, she refuses to move....refusing to allow him to move by the use of her fingernails.

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

"Well?" Madeline looks at his face. "Are you going to ever use that tone on me again?"

Ops can think of nothing but her sitting on him and the need she is creating.

Madeline pulls out a piece of paper hidden in the top of her lace Merry Widow. "Oh, by-the-way, I did a little shopping this morning." She fans the paper under his knows letting him smell her perfume and the subtle scent of her sweat. "I will need a petty cash voucher for this."

"Wh-wh-what is it?" he stutters, feeling the tinge of fear he feels when ever she seems to have the need to tell him about her shopping trips.

"Oh, not much really. Nothing I would be ashamed to let Accounting see." Madeline smirks at him the same way she does when she is trimming her bonsai.

Ops shivers just hard enough for her to feel.

"Let's see...." Madeline says, and begins to slowly read the list in her hand. "We have a 120,000 volt cattleprod, 11 High Conductive Electrode Leads, 10 yards rope (silk), Cat-O-NINE-tails, a string of 8 balls, a 7 Gates of Hell, 6 D-size batters, 5 lbs. fishing sinkers (lead)....." Madeline feels Ops begin to squirm under her. Looking up from the list, she sinks her fingernails into his stomach, "Be still," she hisses. "You didn't answer my question! Are you ever going to use that tone on me again?"

Ops lays there, looking at her, refusing to answer.

"Fine," she looks back down to the list. "a Quad-speed Big Boy, a Triple Ripple plug, a pair of Ankle-Cuffs,.....and a Leather Lead-rope with a stud chain....that was on sale at Shepler's Western Store."

Ops can't take anymore. "OK!" he almost shouts. "I promise to never use that tone on you again. I will treat you with the respect you deserve at all times."

Now that she has what she wants, she decides that she is satisfied and that sex would be anticlimactic. She begins to get up, planning to leave Ops unsatisfied...It will make him need me more later she thinks.

Before she can move more that half an inch, she hears the door bang open and someone fall to the floor. Spinning half-way around to see what is going on and who would have the nerves to enter without knocking, she causes Ops to moan in pain.

There, sprawled on her face, between Ops' legs and less then a foot from Madeline's bottom, is one of the new female recruits. Madeline recognizes her. "'Chelle?!" Madeline states, not really embarrassed nor truly upset, having knowledge of 'Chelle's "tastes" as well.

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

"I-i-i-i'm sorry. I intended to knock first." 'Chelle's face was so red from embarrassment (and excitement), Madeline wondered that she wasn't bleeding. Madeline looks behind 'Chelle to the door and sees Denny. He had been following 'Chelle around like a puppy for the last three months and had probably bumped into 'Chelle when she stopped to knock on the door.

"Next time, make SURE you do." Madeline states, Ops still moaning in pain. "Now be nice enough to lay down the files you brought and leave."

Madeline watches as 'Chelle remembers the files and looks at her left hand. Rising up on her hands and knees, 'Chelle gently places the files on the floor between Ops' legs, then slowly crawls backward out of the room. As she reaches the door, she bumps into Denny. He was just standing there with his mouth gaping wide open. 'Chelle kicks him in the leg to get him to move.

"OH, and by-the-way, if anything is mentioned to anyone, concerning what you have seen here, you will BOTH beg to be canceled." Madeline states without a care.

Denny shudders back to the present, quickly grabs 'Chelle lifting her to her feet, and all but runs from the office.

===================================================

Nikita enters the Women's Locker Room. Going to her locker to retrieve her sweatpants for Michael, she overhears a conversation between two of the women on the other side of the lockers.

"...I can't believe this. You mean Madeline was actually sitting..." said one of the woman.

"...I swear, I am only telling what I...." said the other.

Nikita grabs her sweatpants and closes her locker. Overhearing Madeline's name a second time, she knows that she had better nip this gossip in the bud before someone gets hurt. If Madeline should find out....

"Excuse me," Nikita says coming around the corner. "I don't mean to interrupt, but did Madeline by chance use the worked 'cancel'"

'Chelle looks up at Nikita and can only nod when she sees who is talking.

"By any chance, do you know what that word entails?" Nikita asks.

'Chelle shakes her head no and answers, "Not fully, no."

Nikita leans over and whispers something into 'Chelle's ear, making her gulp and her eyes bug out.

Nikita turns to leave. Smiling to herself as she walks away, she say, "Well, nothing to worry about...." Just as she reaches for the door handle she finishes her statement. "....as long as Madeline didn't use the phrase 'you will beg to be canceled,'" knowing that Madeline probably had said just that.

Behind her she hears a "thud" and knows that 'Chelle has past-out on the floor. She chuckles quietly.

Walking down the hall, Denny is passing the Women's Locker Room just as Nikita opens the door. Glancing in, he sees 'Chello sprawled across the floor. Oh, a dream come true. he thinks to himself.

"Don't even go there, Denny." Nikita says, looking into Denny's face and seeing a thin line of druel dribbling from the corner of his mouth.

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

================================================

Sometime later:

A lone figure sulks at a single door on Level 9. The 12'x 15' area between the elevator and the door was all which existed and could hardly be called a corridor. A shaky hand raises, knocks hesitantly, then drops down to his side. This was a person in need, extreme need.

"Enter!" says a firm voice from the other side of the door.

The figure reaches out, turns the knob, and enters. He looks around. Seeing no other operatives in the room, he walks up to the single occupant of the room. "Miss Catsma?"

"Denny," Catsma looks up sternly from the papers on her desk. "What bring you here so soon? I don't know if I can help you, all the 'Chelle look-a-likes are so tired I have had to give them the week off."

Denny is crestfallen. He can feel his ache of need so acutely, he is afraid he might have to go to Med-Lab and suffer all of those embarrassing questions, again.

Catsma's stern look melts into sadness for the young man. He's in such bad shape, he can't even manage a single blank stare she thinks to herself.

"Miss Catsma, there must be something, anything!! You have such a great imagination....can't you think of something?" Denny is almost whimpering.

"Well...." she runs the entire listing of her personnel through her head attempting to find a match for him which would be suitable. Finding none, she runs through other possibilities and even considers offering herself to him as a surrogate. (After all, she always did think he was kinda cute.) Then, she has a flash of inspiration. "There is the order we just got in. And I was hoping for a chance to check them out."

Denny is puzzled. He has no idea what she is getting at.

Catsma laughs. "Oh, dear, I am sorry. We just got a shipment of inflatable companions, each in the semblance of almost every person in section." She laughs again when she sees the surprised look on his face. "What can I say, there are only so many look-a-likes we can keep here...are dare to keep here. I think you may like these toys. Each comes with 14 different vibratory tools and aids....all electric, to save on the cost of batteries."

Catsma ushers Denny to one of the unpacking rooms, where he finds several "dolls" already inflated. He freezes staring at one in particular. Catsma follows his gaze and laughter of pure joy fills the room. "I didn't know that we had even sent a picture of 'Chelle to the company." she states and walks over to the doll who is a perfect likeness for 'Chelle.

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

Leaving the storage room, the three of them walk over to the door of one of the private rooms.

"Well, I will leave you now. Just be careful not to plug too many of the devices in at the same time." With that, Miss Catsma walks back to her desk.

------------

About 30 minutes later, every light in the Section goes out and there is a smell of ozone on Level 9. As the emergency circuits click in and Ops' voice can be heard all over the main level, Birkoff checks his boards to see what happened.

Birkoff finds the problem on Level 9: Room 1. Switching on the monitors to that room, Birkoff finds Denny lying on his back with a silly smile across his face. Across the room from him, half deflated, is a blow up doll with 'Chelle's face on it.

------------

Rushing into the room, Miss Catsma asks Denny, "Are you alright?"

Denny looks up at her and smiles. "Fine, just fine!" he says with a giggle.

"What happened?"

"Well," he said pointing to wall outlets across the room. "You see, I knew that I couldn't plug all fourteen toys into just two powerstrips. So I decided to use a third." Denny waves his hand over at the molten pile of plastic and metal beneath the outlets. "I plugged in the first two, then added an extra one to the last socket of one. I figured that with 120 volts coming to that outlet, as long as each socket got a minimum of 8 volts each, so 6 times 3 minus 1 equals 17 outlets and 120 divided by 14 gadgets equals 8.5 volts per sockets, so I could plug all fourteen in."

Catsma stood there shaking her head in agreement. "I can see that and it makes sense. So, what could have caused all of this?"

Denny, still smiling a silly smile of "satisfaction", just shrugs his shoulders, "'don't know. Maybe a faulty wire somewhere."

Catsma, not really believing what she was seeing or hearing, just turns and walks away..

==================================================

Leaving Denny to himself, Catsma walks over to the Unpacking Room, takes out her keys and deadbolts the door. With the brains these men have, it might be wiser if we don't allow access to the Nikita dolls until we install some emergency breaker outlets she thinks with a smirk.

Turning to the door, she is just in time to meet Sections Firemen as they enter.

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

Belinda rouses from sleep, slightly sore from the afternoons activities with her man. Staring up at the ceiling, she smiles a fulfilled little smile. Rolling over on her side and propping herself up on one elbow she looks into the still sleeping face of the man beside her.

Walter, wakes with the feeling of being watched. Opening his eyes, he grins when he sees Belinda's beautiful face only a foot away. Before she can react, he steals a kiss then jumps out of the bed. "I'm hungry, lets get something to eat." he says throwing on a white button up shirt and sweatpants. He then tosses Belinda another button up shirt.

"You and your food, it never fails. Maybe we should have a 'fridge put in here." she giggles at the thought. "Then we would never have to leave this room on our days off."

Belinda picks up the shirt, eyeing it carefully. "You sure this is enough?" she asks as she slips it on. Looking into the mirrored wall, she sees that the hem of the shirt comes down to mid-thigh. "Guess it is......," she giggles again.

Belinda takes the arm Walter offers her and the two of them head out the door. "Shall we go to Commissary Kitchen and see what we can cook up?" Walter asks.

"Sure, sounds fun."

--------------------------------------

In the back store room, in the farthest corner of Commissary, the Commissary Director was taking inventory. She had decided to do this herself. For some time now, supplies had been walking off and she was determined find out where they were going.

She was so engrossed in what she was doing, she didn't notice the two operatives enter her kitchen until she heard them going through the cabinets and the refrigerator.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From the moment Walter and Belinda enter the kitchen, they are in "search and devour" mode. Each of them searching the cabinets, the storage bins and the refrigerators for something to eat. They steal kisses from each other whenever they are close enough.

Not finding anything that sounds good, they move on to the first of the storage rooms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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

Hearing what sounds like wholesale pillaging, the Director lays down her clipboard. Leaving the Storage Room, she walks through the dishwashing area and heads towards the main kitchen area.

Walking down a short hallway, she hears two voices coming her way. Instantly, she recognizes one of them and darts into an alcove leading to yet another storage room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Having found mostly canned goods in most of the other storage rooms, Walter and Belinda work their way farther back into the kitchen. Kissing their way up a short hallway, they almost miss a small alcove leading to another room.

Belinda squeaks with delight when she sees the peanut butter....extra smooth. She grabs the jar and immediately opens it. Walter stands there and watches as she shoves her index finger in to the second knuckle. He continues to watch as Belinda slowly removes her finger and slowly, deliberately, licks it clean with long strokes of her pink tongue leaving tiny traces of peanut butter on her lips.

Behind Belinda's head, Walter notices a nice BIG jar of Smucker's Blackberry Preserves. Walking over to Belinda, Walter pins her to the shelves as he reaches for the jar.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hiding, crouched in a dark corner, the Commissary Director watches and worries. PBJ, ol' girl, what have you gotten yourself into? she thinks to herself. These two have the ability to cancel you in a moment if they catch you LURKING here, watching, and wouldn't have to be anywhere near you when they do it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kissing the remaining peanut butter from Belinda's lips, Walter sneaks the jar of blackberry preserves behind her back and opens it. Dipping his fingers into the jar, Walter scoops some out.

Pulling away, only slightly, from Belinda, Walter smiles a wicked smile. Stepping further back, he shows her his hands and chuckles.

Belinda laughs. "Don't you even think about it you ol' reprobate." She says, shaking a peanut buttered finger at him. A small amount flies off the tip of her finger and lands on his nose.

Belinda freezes. Walter stands there stunned for a moment, then the grin on his face gets bigger.

"Now you've done it." Walter says as he starts feinting at her with his blackberry covered hand.

"It was an accident," she laughs, trying to make him believe her even through her laughter.

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

"Accident or not, you fired the first shot." He retorts, and tosses the globule of sweetened berry juice in the general direction of her breasts.

SPLAT!! The blackberry preserves spatters over one shirt-covered breast as Belinda looks down. A droplet splashs up onto her nose.

"Hey, now! That was at least three times as much as I hit you with," she complains. While Walter is laughing his head off, Belinda reaches into her jar and scoops out three fingers full of peanut butter and smears it down the front of his face.

Walter returns the favor, and goes her better, by scooping all four finger into his jar. Belinda starts trying to dodge him, knowing that if he catches her, she is going to get it and get it good.

It only takes Walter a couple of minutes to catch her, but Belinda has her face covered so that he can't reach it. So, Walter decides on another target. Reaching up from the bottom of her shirt, he spreads the gooey mess across both breasts and down her stomach to her the top of her pubes. All the time, Walter tickles her, making the mess smear even more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PBJ is, at first, incensed by the waste of good wholesome food, food which would have made several healthy snacks or was a main ingredient in several of her recipes. She has always run a respectable, functional kitchen for Section for the last four years. Her reviews have always been sparkling clean as is her kitchen. She has never allowed horseplay in it and, BY GOD she wasn't going to now.........

As she starts to get up, she remembers just who these two are, what they do for section, and images of what could happen to her flash in front of her eyes. Not knowing what else to do, PBJ sinks back down into her hiding place, surrendering to defeat. She has no other choice but to sit there and watch.....watch and pray that they don't find her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Walter spies an empty prep table over by the door. Pulling Belinda over to it, he slips her shirt off over her head and lifts her up onto it. As the cold metal touches her bottom, she squeals, "It's cold!"

"It'll warm up fast enough," he says lustily.

Walter's finger tips begin brushing over Belinda's skin, gently, lovingly. He loves the smoothness, the warmth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PBJ continues to sit in her dark corner watching what was going on. She watches as Walter's head lowers to Belinda's breasts, lapping up the blackberry preserves like a cat lapping milk. He is like a man on a mission, yet he seems to be consciously attempting to make this pleasurable for Belinda as well.

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

After cleaning off each breast in turn, Walter begins to work his way down her chest, slowly, oh so slowly.....working hard to get every molecule of the sticky substance off her body and down his throat.

Whatever his tongue was doing, it is definitely having remarkable effects on the woman who has become a meal. Her nipples are as hard as humanly possible. She also arches her back as though attempting to force his face further into her chest and stomach. Her eyes are closed as she sits and enjoys the ministrations Walter is performing.

Damn, she thinks to herself. At this rate that man is going to become a Diabetic.

After what seemes like an hour, Walter has finally reached Belinda's pubes and has cleaned off the last of the blackberry preserves. Rising up, he reaches over and gently lays Belinda onto her back.

Quickly removing his own clothes, Walter climbs up onto the table. While still on his hands and knees, he positions himself over her and begins kissing her. Reaching down between her legs, he begins massaging her, making her squirm with pleasure.

Ahhhhh, geez!! PBJ moans inwardly, Even if I hadn't needed to wash that table before, I will now. PBJ's legs were starting to get tired and cramp a little. She works herself quietly to move into a different position and almost knocks over a giant sized can of Succotash. Catching it before it tilts off the shelf, PBJ silently sighs with relief. How much longer can this go on?

Looking up after making sure the can would not fall, PBJ is just in time to see Walter insert himself, with one quick thrust, deeply inside of Belinda. PBJ's mouth drops open, He wasn't just blowing smoke.....He is the LARGEST man I have ever seen..... Secretly, PBJ is both curious as to what it would feel like, yet is still definitely glad she had never taken him up on his offers.

PBJ hears a moan escape Belinda's lips and she quickly looks up at the woman's face. Belinda seems to be in a state of ecstasy. As PBJ continues to watch, Belinda's moans became more and more intense....became louder and louder. Once they became loud enough, PBJ begins hearing words in the moan....things like "oh, yes," "harder," "deeper," and "I love you so much, I wish days like this would never end."

As she watchs, she finds herself becoming excited. The room seems to be getting hotter and hotter....and for some reason it even seems to become smaller somehow.

Then without warning, things began to peak. Belinda's moan became more of a squeal, almost reaching a shriek. Walter's pumping becomes faster and harder.....his breathing faster and shallower. Then both, it seemed at the very same moment, jerk as though in the throes of an orgasm which seems to last minutes. Suddenly, without warning, they both fall flat on the table, exhausted.

Even PBJ felt exhausted, in a weird sort of way.

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

===============================

A cool breeze and sudden shadow blocking the sun, rouses the sleeping woman on the beach of a little known Mexican resort. Peeking from beneath the edge of the hat covering her face, she complains. "Hey, you're blocking my sun!" Reaching for her drink, she slides the straw under her hat to her mouth and takes a sip. Putting the glass back down, she notices that the shadows still haven't moved. "I said...." the rest of the statement is lost when she angrily lifts her hat and sees to whom the shadows belong.

There before her stands two men, dressed in black, staring at her. "You will come with us, Cygnet," is all they say and lift her to her feet.

"Well, I knew you'd find me, but not this soon." she sighs. Damnit she thinks to herself, I knew it was a big mistake to taunt him with those computer messages. It would be just like him to turn my whereabouts over to Section.

The two men, each, take an elbow and lead her over to a black van waiting in the parking lot half a block away. ----------------------------------------

Madeline hangs up her phone, and immediately buzzes Ops. "They found her. What do you want done with her?" she said.

Ops voice returns over the intercom. "Good, she has the potential of being a good Cold Op. We found that out when she managed to escape." The intercom goes silent for a moment and Madeline know he is stuggling with his decision.

Moments later, Madeline is on the phone making all the arrangements for Cygnet's return. A smile crosses her lips as she goes over the plans with the party on the other ende of the phone. This is going to be fun. she thinks to herself. It's been a while since I've... and she starts to remember the last time.

=============================

Hearing a knock on the door, Madeline closes the files she is working on. She had come in early this morning so as to make sure her schedule was clear for today. Madeline presses a button on her desk, and the door opens. Entering is a woman being escorted by the elbow by two men. All three are wearing black.

Madeline glances at the men, then glances to the couch. The men, seeing this, pilot the errant Cold Op in training over to the couch and force her to sit. With their job done, they leave as fast as they can without seeming to run from the room.

Cygnet presses herself down into the couch and crosses her arms across her chest. Glaring at Madeline through the hair which covers most of her face, she waits.

Madeline just sits in her chair, staring that Madeline stare of hers at the girl on the couch.

.....and the clock ticks.

.....and time passes.

.....and Cygnet watches Madeline and waits.

.....and Madeline stares.

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

Cygnet's rear begins to get tired from sitting so long in one position. She wants to move, to relieve the pressure on her tailbone. Her pride, at that moment, is still too strong to allow her to ask permission to move, but she fears to adjust her position without permission. Cygnet actually fears that if she should move into the wrong position, it might make Madeline even more upset.

.....and Madeline stares.

.....and the clock ticks.

As covertly as possible, Cygnet begins looking around the office. Anything to take her mind off her tired butt. On the shelves she sees books on music, psychology, medicine and many, many other subjects. Different plants and a couple of bonsai trees are tastefully placed around the office with small grow lights on them. Then she notices that on Madeline's desk stands a pitcher of water, a bottle of Tequela (with the worm), and a gun lying on its side. A shiver runs down Cygnet's spine.

.....and the clock ticks

.....and Madeline just sits there, unmoving and stares.

As lunch time grows closer, Cygnet realizes she is becoming thirsty. Still she doesn't say a word out of fear for what Madeline may be planning.

.....and Madeline continues to stare, unmoving.

.....and the clock ticks.

Outside the windows, Cygnet can see the main staging area. She can see other Cold Ops walking about, most going about their business, others (who knew her) sneaking glances in (curious about what is going to happen to her), and still other chatting away with each other as they go to lunch. (She knew they had to be going to lunch because occasionally one of them would rub their stomachs as they walked in the general direction of the cafeteria.)

Cygnet's stomach growls and she realizes she would kill for a drink of water or tequila.

.....and the clock ticks

.....and Madeline continues to stare.

Finally, Cygnet cannot take it any longer, she has to have a drink. Forcing herself to look directly into Madeline's eyes she speaks. "May I have something to drink?"

.....and Madeline continues to stare.

Cygnet waits, then repeats the question. "May I have something to drink?"

.....and the clock ticks.

Cygnet becomes angry. "I said, 'May I have something to drink?'", again, receiving nothing but a stoney silence.

Cygent jumps up from the couch and stomps towards Madeline's desk. Madeline leans forward, placing her hands on her desk.

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

Seeing Madeline's hands move to the desktop, Cygnet slowly backs away and sits back down on the couch. She shakes with both fear and anger. Her thirst is still driving at her, but having stood, her butt is now recovering from all the sitting.

.....and Madeline stares.

.....and the clock ticks.

.....and people continue to walk past the windows.

Cygnet looks around the office again. It seems smaller to her. She knows that it's not any smaller than before, but she can't help the way she's beginning to feel. With every glance around, things seem just centimeters closer than they were before....including the walls.

.....and the clock ticks.

.....and Madeline stares.

Cygnet begins feeling a little closed in. She looks away from Madeline and stares out the office windows. It doesn't help, if anything it makes Madeline's office seem smaller. ...all that room out there.....all that space to move around in. she thinks to herself. Then Cygnet turns back to the office and jumps inwardly. Even though she knows that Madeline hasn't moved, it feels as if Madeline is right in her face.

Cygnet starts to rant. "Talk to me! What are you going to do to me? Just answer me! Damnit either answer me or cancel me and get it over with." She continues to scream and shout at Madeline as she loses control of herself. She jumps off the couch and begins to pace the floor as she loosens her shirt. Cygnet finds she is having trouble breathing. "I don't feel any air moving..... what happened, where's the air.... Is this place sealed?" Now her rants are beginning to move into the area of pleading.

.....and the clock ticks

.....and Madeline stares.

Launching herself at the door, Cygnet finds it locked. She screams, "Let me out, let me out. I can't breath." Cygnet then turns, eyes on Madeline behind her desk and takes a flying leap at her.

Madeline, expecting this, moves to one side and slaps Cygnet. Cygnet freezes, looks Madeline in the eye, then lowers her head. "I'm sorry," Cygnet says to Madeline with heart-felt regret.

Madeline smile at the girl. Placing a finger under the girl's chin, Madeline raises Cygnet's face so that she can see into the girl's eyes. "I know. You have the potential to be a good Cold Op, but you will have to start your training over and work twice as hard. This will be your last chance." Madeline continues to smile. "It seems that the powers-that-be must have seen your potential, few get a second chance and no one ever gets a third."

Cygnet can't believe her ears.

"Now back to work. No one knows you were gone, unless you told them. As far as anyone is concerned, you were on a training excersize."

Cynets mouth drops open and she can't move. She survived this.

"I said, 'back to work!'" Madeline says, slapping her hands together. "Oh, and go get some dinner. They should be serving about now....."

Cygnet breaks into a run as she leaves the room pausing only for a moment to shatter that damn clock and heads to the Cafeteria.

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

Prologue:

Birkoff finds Ops in the cafeteria eating dinner.

Operations sees him walking towards the table, "Well?"

"The intel is in, but," Birkoff pauses for effect, "we won't need it." he says with a grin. "Shortly after the intel arrived, we got word. Both sites have blown up."

Ops sits there with his mouth open. "What happened?"

"Well, from the intel we have and the reports made from the statements of a couple of the survivors, we have pieced together what happened. It seems that Goldfinger, the leader of the organization, is a consumate klutz. It seems that as he was putting in the alpha key and initiating the takeover of the missles....he tripped. He ended up shorting out part of the system, sending a false offline signal to the beta key. It went into action, taking over the initiation process where the other left off. Then, when the original system came back online, the beta key misread this as tampering and set off it's self destruct, setting off the self destruct of the alpha key......and boom."

Operations busts out laughing. Birkoff and all those around sit in stunned silence, this was the first time on all their years in Section, any of them had heard Operations laugh with just simple amusement.

==============================

Five ladies, in various moods, sat at a long table in the cafeteria, eating. They talked and listened, and were just enjoying each others company after what felt like a long day of work and surprises.

--------------------

Nikita, entering the cafeteria and getting her dinner, turns from the serving line to see: Jane, 'Chelle, Catsma, PBJ, and Cygnet sitting together at one table. This was something she could not pass up. With a smile, Nikita starts for a table which, by its very location, would have her walking right past the women. As Nikita reaches the table with the five women at it, she pauses. Looking at them, her smile gets warmer. "Oh, by the way, Ladies," Nikita says, "no mater what you write, Michael will always be mine." And then she walks off, leaving the five women in stunned silence.

END

----------------------------------------------------------------------

The OTHER Ending by 'Chelle

The ladies sat at the table, looking at each other in stunned silence as Nikita swaggered away.

Cough

Snicker

Snort

"As if..." Catsma said.

The table erupted in laughter as they all gave each other highfives.

"Preach on sister Catsma!" Jane replied giggling into her cup of iced tea.

"Did you SEE the outfit she had on?" Cygnet exclaimed, biting into her crossiont.

"At least it's better than that damn hat she wore for a month straight. What kind of a hillybill wears THOSE things anymore?" 'chelle chortled as she popped the top on her Dr. Pepper.

"shhh... here comes Michael." pbj hushed the group as they all turned and smiled at the deadly handsome man walking thru the cafe.

"Ladies... May I join you?" His dancing green eyes touched on each one and he was please to see they all seemed to be in good moods. Something must have tickled their funnybones.

"of course, please do. " Jane patted the chair next to her.

~~~~~and all was right with the world.. and section.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

AFTER The OTHER Ending by The Watcher

(With a minor re-write by The Watcher)

Over in a dark corner of the cafeteria, a lone figure watches. Laughter bubbles inside as the person watches the five women.

None of them realize that they are being watched and listened to. All of their remarks heard, all recorded for future use.

It is all the person can do to keep from laughing at their antics upon seeing Michael enter the room, see their attempts to make things seem normal as Michael walks up to them. The person chokes on a glass of water watching these women fanning themself gently, controling themselves by shear force of will.

Once he is gone, the lone figure presses the single button on a remote being conceled by the fingers of a right hand. Suddenly, without warning, 60 volts of electricity shoots through the seats of all five women. All five women jump from their seats, knocking over their table, spilling food and drink all over themselves and each other.

Looking around to see who could have done this, they spot the only table without an occupant. Rushing over to the table, they find on its surface (among the normal dinner refuse) the remote, a single red hair, and (written in spilled salt) the words "The Watcher".

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