Prologue

Michael quietly stepped through the entrance of his home and swiftly entered the security code into the alarm on the wall. He closed the door gently and locked it. Looking around the foyer, he inspected the dimly lit area before following the light she had left on for him. He deposited his garment bag on the living room sofa and propped his briefcase full of phony paperwork next to it.

He was glad to be home. He had been away from her for two long weeks. They had returned from the mission in Prague two days ago, but Michael had remained in Section to allow the knife slash on his left hip time to heal. It had been torture, wanting to come home to her and not being able to. But now he was here and his heart filled with peace at the thought of his wife sleeping upstairs in their bed.

Before going up, he completed his routine sweep, making sure windows were locked and doors secure. He stopped in the kitchen to peel down his pants and examine the wound again. Not too bad. Only twelve stitches. But what lie could he give her that she would believe?

He pulled up his pants and turned off lights as he climbed the stairs to the loft. He made sure his tread was soft so as not to alarm her, but a bullhorn couldn’t wake his love when she was soundly asleep.

Hushed, he entered the bedroom and immediately sought her out. His eyes lit on her willowy form in the bed, curled up under the comforter. She’d fallen asleep with the television on again and he immediately felt contrite for leaving her alone so often with only it and the telephone for companions. He tipped over to the bed and looked down at her.

Exquisite. His Nikita.

Michael allowed himself to caress her cheek, but she looked so tired he decided not to wake her. He moved to the television and turned it off, then wearily undressed and put away his clothes. He slipped into the bathroom to perform his nightly ablutions, then clicked off the light and made his way towards the bed.

Carefully, he slid under the cool sheets next to her. Slowly, he entwined his body and limbs with hers. She stirred for a moment, a small sigh escaping her lips. Michael nuzzled his face against her fragrant hair and inhaled deeply of her warm feminine scent.

Closing his eyes, he said his nightly prayer. He begged forgiveness for killing three men a few days ago. He prayed for his sister and her family. He said a blessing for Roberta. He thanked God for his wife and her love and devotion. He wished for Andrei Chernek to stay away for the rest of their lifetime.

She unconsciously snuggled back into him her soft skin brushing against his. He ignored the heavy weight of his erection against his thigh. In the morning, he promised himself as he drifted off to sleep.

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

Nikita carefully peeled back the gauze covering Michael’s injury and let out a small gasp. “Babe, you actually did this in the shower?”

Michael reclined against the pillows and held his breath as he continued the lie. “I didn’t notice until too late… there was a jagged piece of metal on the door.”

Clucking her tongue disapprovingly, she gently kissed the wound before covering it again. “My husband, the walking scab.”

Michael chuckled as he pulled her up to him and settled her between his muscled thighs. He grunted at the pressure on his sore hip and cupped her behind to ease her slightly away from it. “Kiss me hello, wife.”

“I thought I did already?” Nikita wriggled her pelvis against his erection.

“Uh…ahh…forgot what I was saying.” Michael groaned with pleasure.

“You were begging me for a kiss.” Nikita ran her fingers over his lips. “Open wide.”

Michael obediently closed his eyes and parted his lips and Nikita lovingly covered it with hers. Their tongues danced around each other sensually as their hands mutually caressed and aroused. Nikita sucked gently on his lower lip and bit it softly. Her mouth trailed kisses from his jaw line to his ear and she licked the lobe before sucking it into her mouth. Moaning in pleasure, Michael’s hands slid her nightgown up to her ribcage.

“I missed you.” He breathed as her tongue dipped into his ear.

“Mmm.” Nikita murmured as her fingers skimmed his rigid abdomen. “Me too.”

She sat up and tugged the nightgown over her head. As she leaned forward, Michael cupped her breasts and brushed his thumbs back and forth over the dusky pink nipples. Nikita’s eyes fluttered close in rapture. She leaned forward further and his mouth latched onto a rosy peak. She allowed his suckling for a few moments longer, then leaned down to give him a luscious kiss. Michael was breathless when she pulled away and mindless when her fingers encircled him and fondled him expertly from base to tip. Her tongue swirled around the flat male nipple, then her teeth grazed over it teasingly. She repeated the action on the other nipple, then kissed and licked her way down to his navel.

Michael’s body was tense with need, his skin tingling from her touch. He buried his hands in her thick silky hair and held his breath as her mouth hovered over his thick erection. “Merde.” He shuddered when she took him into her mouth. She smiled wickedly to herself, enjoying the power she had over him. He writhed and gasped under her and when he was nearly at the brink, she moved up and over him, then sheathed him within her.

Michael gasped again at the delicious sensations and the feel of Nikita -- tight, hot, and squeezing him intimately. He grasped her hips as she undulated above him, his body thrusting upward to mate with hers. Their ecstatic gasps and incoherent words of love mingled. Their bodies strained together in an erotic cadence until they brought each other to a glorious climax long moments later.

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

Operations punched in the code and hummed lightly as the door to Madeline’s office slid open with a quiet hiss. He trotted down the few steps and stopped abruptly upon seeing her leaning seductively over a cold op named Hutchins.

Clearing his throat, Operations shoved his hands into his pants pockets. “Madeline.”

She straightened immediately, her coy smile disappearing to be replaced by a cool expression. “Yes?”

The tall, dark-haired young man jumped up guiltily and turned towards his superior. “Good morning, sir.”

“Hutchins.” Operations inclined his head in acknowledgement, his eyes glittering coldly as they took in Madeline’s slightly gaped blouse. “I’d like a word with Madeline…alone.”

“We’re finished here.” Madeline moved around her desk to take her seat. “You’re free to go.”

Hutchins almost stumbled as he hurried up the steps and out of the office. Operations simply stared at the woman who had been the object of his desire for so many years, mentally beheading Hutchins in an effort to appease his jealousy. He ignored the tiny prick of sadness in his heart as he paced in front of her desk.

“I wanted to get your input on Bolivia.”

“Actually, I’ve already worked up a preliminary profile and routed it to your terminal.” Madeline smiled politely.

“Oh. Well, I must have missed it.” Operations smiled back. His heart rate had increased as usual when he was in her beautifully glacial presence. His eyes roamed over her appreciatively as he tunneled a hand through his hair.

“I apologize.” Madeline inclined her head as she studied him. “I’m due to meet with Mentz in a few minutes. Was there something else?”

Operations perked up, glad to have an opening. He gave her his best masculine grin as he moved closer. “Yes. Would you like to join me for dinner tonight?”

She remained silent a moment, as if savoring the prelude to her rejection. “No thank you.”

Her answer was simple, succinct, and included no explanation. Just a flat out refusal to spend the evening with him. He masked his disappointment and his tender feelings. “Perhaps another time?”

She didn’t answer, just looked at him with that maddening smile of hers. It had seemed only a short time ago that she had returned his affection, but now she was determined to keep their relationship on a strictly professional level.

“I’ll leave you to your work then.” Operations turned quickly and exited the office.

As he ambled back towards the loft, nodding curtly at his peons as he passed, he cursed himself for his lack of restraint where Madeline was concerned. How much longer could he endure her stoic rejection of him before he regained his pride?

Behind his tough, impenetrable exterior lay a passionate, kindhearted man. That he had chosen such an iceberg to give his love to somewhat irked him. Aside from the aesthetic, what had drawn him to her all these years? She was nothing like the women he had once been attracted to - warm, caring, fiercely passionate women like his former wife, Corinne. Maybe it was time he gave up his fruitless pursuit of his unwilling quarry and find some other woman to ease his loneliness.

No, he decided, as he entered his office and sat down at his wide, glass desk. He knew what he wanted, whom he loved. No other woman affected him the way Madeline did and he was determined to have her.

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

Toni tried not to sneer at the myriad number of couples that walked hand-in-hand and arm-in-arm through the mall. She hated couples, mainly because she wasn't part of one at the moment. It didn’t help that she hadn’t been sexually active for the past six months. Well, there had been that one guy a couple of months ago, but he had been a mark and a member of the wham-bam-thank-you-mam club. Besides that, Toni found sex on command with a complete stranger vastly unappealing.

It wasn’t that she didn’t have her pick of the male eye candy that inhabited Section One. She’d been flirted with and asked out on numerous occasions by good-looking operatives. She just hadn’t been attracted to any of them or anyone else for that matter. Okay, maybe Davenport. He was balder then she usually liked, but he had dark eyes and facial hair, which she really liked. And Victor was a cutie too, but she had the feeling he was taken.

Truth be told, Toni figured her time in Section One had matured her way beyond her twenty-five years and she felt like settling down to a serious relationship. Gone were her days of flitting restlessly from man to man. Section rules be damned. She was ready to be someone’s one and only.

She quickened her pace through the mall, anxious to get home where she could wallow in misery with a pint of Butter Pecan ice cream and a good movie. She gnashed her teeth as yet another joined-at-the-hip pair ambled slowly in front of her, hands clasped, bodies close. The woman’s hair was long and blond and her mate had shoulder-length, brownish hair that curled over the collar of his black leather jacket. There was something familiar about the man’s sexy, lissome stride.

Toni was almost on top of the couple and was preparing to go around them when the man turned his head to speak to the woman. She gasped upon recognition.

“Michael?” She called.

Two heads swiveled as they looked over their shoulders at her. It was indeed Michael. She watched his eyes turn from warm green, to icy jade, and then warm again. They paused and turned as Toni stopped in front of them. The beautiful blond was looking at with curious and beautiful azure eyes, a tentative smile on her face. Michael, however, didn’t look too pleased to see her, but his expression changed in a millisecond as he moved forward to greet her.

“Toni.” He smiled widely at her and Toni nearly dropped her packages at the transformation. Her mentor was handsome when his face was pulled into an expressionless mask, but with a breathtaking smile that revealed his male dimples, he was devastating. And Good Lord, but he looked delicious in a tight pair of faded jeans.

“It’s so good to see you.” Michael gave her a sharp look before surprising her by enveloping her in a warm hug.

Toni nearly stumbled when he released her and her eyes immediately fell on the gorgeous woman standing a little behind him. With her slim figure and high cheekbones, she could have been a model. She was dressed casually in jeans, a beige sweater, and a suede, hip-length coat.

Michael’s eyes glared another warning as he moved back and drew the young woman forward. “This is my wife, Nikita. Nikita, this is Antonia. She’s a distant cousin, on my father’s side.”

Toni blinked several times in disbelief after realizing Michael had introduced her as a relative and registering the word ‘wife’. The blonde smiled shyly and extended her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Antonia.”

Shaking Nikita’s hand gave her a little time to recover and Toni chanced a look at Michael. “Wife? I didn’t know you were married, Michael.”

“The wedding was six months ago. I tried to contact you, but you moved.” Michael explained, his eyes boring into Toni’s.

“It’s good to finally meet someone from Michael’s family.” Nikita was saying. “Do you live in Paris?”

“Yes.” Toni nodded and her smile faltered as Michael’s expression hardened. Wrong answer, she thought as she quickly plastered the smile back on, awkward and unsure of what to say next. What the hell was going on? Whatever it was, her life in Section One had taught her to be on alert and prepared at all times. She didn’t know what game he was playing, but Toni decided to follow Michael’s lead.

She was still absorbing the shock at the revelation of Michael being married when Nikita spoke again.

“We’ve got to get your number.” Nikita insisted warmly. “It’d be a shame for you and Michael to lose contact again.”

“Oh…sure, yes.” Toni fumbled and shifted her packages.

“Hey, I’ve got an idea.” Nikita touched Toni’s shoulder. “Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight? My mother’s in town for a visit. It would kind of be a family get together.”

“Well, I don’t know -- “

“Do you have plans?”

She really should have said no, especially with Michael shooting daggers at her from behind Nikita. But Toni’s curiosity was getting the better of her. She was just dying to know the real story behind Michael’s marriage. “No, I’m free.”

“Good.” Nikita said, cuddling up next to her husband. “I’m sure Michael would love to have you.”

“Of course. We’ll get a chance to catch up.” Michael replied with another smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He casually draped his arm around Nikita’s shoulder. “Well, we should be going.”

“Oh! Just a minute.” Toni gave her number to Nikita and in turn Michael’s wife wrote down their phone number and address for her. Toni peaked at Michael as she grinned up at the taller woman. “It was so great meeting you, Nikita. I’m sorry. Where are my manners? I didn’t congratulate you on your marriage.”

“Thank you. You make sure you’re there at eight, okay?” Nikita smiled as Michael took her hand.

“We’ll see you tonight.” Michael flashed Toni an annoyed look as he led his wife away.

“I look forward to it.” Toni called after them, still stunned at this new revelation.

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

Operations adjusted his tie as he stood on the doorstep of Madeline’s elegant home, a large bouquet of lilies in his hand. He felt her withdrawing further and further from him with each passing day and he knew he had to do something before they completely lost the connection they once shared.

He didn’t care about the rumors of her liaisons with the younger male operatives in Section. Her assertion that their personal relationship was over did not deter him either. With gentle nudging, Madeline would soon come to realize that they were meant to be together.

He rung the doorbell and waited patiently for her to appear. A few minutes passed with no answer. Frowning, he buzzed again. He knew for certain that she was at home. She’d left word with Birkoff that she would be there if she were needed.

After a few minutes passed with no answer again, Operations leaned heavily on the buzzer until the door was suddenly thrown open.

“Madeline.” He straightened and grinned, admiring her still buxom form in a silk, crimson robe.

“Is there a problem?” She said breathlessly, running her hand through her disheveled hair.

“I -- “ Operations halted as he examined her in the faint light spilling from inside the house. Her chest was heaving rapidly and her lips were bruised and swollen, as if from kissing. As he leaned in closer, he noted the flush to her cheeks and the faint odor of sex clinging to her body.

His body suddenly went rigid and his eyes narrowed as he looked into the house behind her. “You have company.”

“You should have called.” Madeline said icily as she glanced dismissively at the flowers. “I told you that the personal aspect of our relationship no longer existed. I think you need to accept that and move on.”

“Perhaps I should.” Operations returned, his heart breaking at the reality of the situation.

“Then I’ll see you at Section tomorrow.”

Operations stared at her for a moment before looking regretfully at the flowers and then roughly shoving them at her. He turned on his heel and left, feeling like a fool, but an infinitely wiser one.

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

Toni felt as if she were in the twilight zone or some strange alternate universe that had Michael behaving like a doting husband, a respectful son-in-law, and a congenial host. She hadn’t quite put her finger on the true nature of his relationship with Nikita. His marriage seemed real. Gleaming gold wedding bands, a feisty mother-in-law, and wedding photos attested to that fact.

Still, she felt a strange unease about the whole situation. Section One strictly forbid its operatives from relationships with ‘civilians’. Yet here Michael was, standing in the kitchen, looking quite out of place but comfortable in front of the stove. He was flirting with and sneaking kisses from his wife as she helped him prepare dinner. In a shallow saucepan he stirred something that smelled delicious as he traded salacious barbs with his mother-in-law, Roberta, who sat propped at the kitchen island with Toni, preparing a salad.

Since she’d arrived thirty minutes earlier, Toni’s mind had been bursting with questions for Michael, but she hadn’t been able to corner him with them. He’d introduced her to his mother-in-law and pressed a glass of wine in her hand as Nikita had shown her into the living room and regaled her with the tale of their whirlwind courtship. She was sure Nikita and her mother were not Section operatives. Toni also realized that Nikita thought her husband was some type of security systems specialist. So Toni had decided to follow Michael’s lead and bide her time until she could get him alone and wheedle the truth from him.

“So what do you do, Toni?” Roberta as she hacked into a tomato.

The question caught her off guard. Toni choked on a sip of the sweet wine and coughed and sputtered as she tried to think of a plausible profession.

“Breathe, girl!” Roberta pounded Toni’s back as Nikita quickly stepped forward with a glass of water.

“You’re killing her, Mom.” Nikita pushed her mother’s heavy hand away and handed the glass to Toni. She was looking at Toni with a strange, albeit amused expression.

“Thank you.” Toni gasped, hoping her face wasn’t as beet red as it felt. Her skin felt itchy and her ears were hot. She drank down the water and cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, Roberta. You were saying?”

“I asked what you did for a living.”

Toni noted that though Michael hadn’t turned around, his head was cocked at an angle that spoke volumes. Her answer had better be a good one. “I’m a buyer.”

“Cool.” Nikita moved back to the stove. “I guess you travel a lot too, like Michael?”

There was a tinge of bitterness to the question, and Toni wasn’t the only one who picked up on it. Michael glanced over at his wife, but her eyes were averted, head bent over her task of sautéing chicken breasts.

“For what store?” Roberta was asking.

This time, Toni answered without hesitation. She tossed out the name of a popular chain store and hoped they never had reason to try to contact her there.

“Hey, they have beautiful shit. Since we’re family, do we get a discount?”

“Mother.” Nikita issued the single word as a warning.

“What?” Roberta’s eyes widened innocently. “We are family.”

“Toni doesn’t know us that well and would you please stop swearing so much?”

Roberta rolled her eyes and leaned towards Toni. “’Scuse my French, honey.”

“That wasn’t French.” Michael threw at her over his shoulder.

“Oh, now I’ve offended his pretty ass too.” Roberta threw up her hands and turned towards Toni again. “’Scuse em moi my bad French and filthy mouth.”

Toni snickered as Michael and Nikita shook their heads. She was going to enjoy being in this family, for however long Michael allowed her to be in it.

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

“You have to come again soon, Toni.” Nikita smiled as she released the smaller woman from a bone-crushing embrace.

“I had a great time.” Toni returned warmly as Michael helped her into her coat.

It had been a long time since she’d enjoyed the simple pleasure of having dinner with friends. She usually got together with Walter, Birkoff, and a few other Section operatives when their schedules permitted, but things had been so hot as of late, they hadn’t had a get together in months. After her initial shyness, Toni had relaxed and found delight in getting to know Michael’s very young wife and her mother. She and Nikita shared a lot of common interests, and Roberta, who Toni had discovered hailed from New York, was a nostalgic reminder of home.

The evening had ended all too quickly for her. The looming specter of loneliness she had felt had dissipated in the few short hours she’d spent in the presence of Michael’s family. She dreaded going home to her desolate apartment and she actually found herself envying her mentor.

“Now that we’ve finally met a member of Michael’s family, we’re not letting you out of our sight.” Roberta gave her a hug as well and tucked Toni’s scarf snugly about her neck. “You’re such a sweet chick. We’ll definitely be seeing more of you.”

“I’d like that.” Toni grinned.

Michael gently grasped her elbow and steered her towards the front door. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

She exchanged good-byes with Nikita and Roberta and allowed Michael to lead her from the apartment and into the hallway. As they walked towards the elevator, Toni tugged slightly on his sleeve to get his attention. Now that she had him alone, she let loose with one of the questions that had been plaguing her all evening.

“Is this for real?” She asked in a low voice.

He pressed the elevator button and turned to look at her. The congenial host was gone. The iron mask was back in place. “What do you mean?”

“You know very well what I mean. Married, Michael?”

He remained silent as the heavy elevator door clunked open and he stepped inside. Toni followed him and stood directly in front of him, hands on hips. “What gives? I thought we couldn’t have relationships outside of the Section. Do they know?”

Silence reigned as the elevator descended. Toni crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You’re not getting out of here until you tell me the truth.”

Like she could really go up against Michael and win. But the bluff was worth a shot.

“This doesn’t concern you.”

He had her there. It was none of her business if Michael chose to defy Section code and play family man when he wasn’t detonating bombs and gathering intel.

“Well, maybe not…”

The elevator doors banged open. He moved forward, making her back out of the elevator, then guided her out into the frigid night air. “Nikita likes you.”

Toni pulled her coat closer around her. “I like her. Roberta’s pretty cool too.”

“She’ll want to see you again.” Michael said as he walked beside her the short distance to her car.

“And you don’t want me too?”

“If she invites you over again, make an excuse. Tell her you’re moving out of the country.”

“No need to worry, Michael.” Toni bristled at his terse tone. “I won’t blab to anyone.”

Michael blinked at her. “See that you don’t.”

Toni stopped in front of her car and unlocked the door. “I wouldn’t deliberately get you into trouble.”

“I’m not the one who would be in trouble.” He countered as he opened the door for her.

She was pissed now. Not only at his tone of voice, but at his tight-lipped stance. Whether he liked it or not, she was now involved in his secret life. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Go home, Antonia.”

“Hey, you dragged me into this.” She whined as she slipped behind the wheel. “Tell me what kind of trouble I’ve gotten myself into.”

Michael closed the door firmly and walked back into the building, head held high, shoulders shifting gracefully as he moved.

With a defeated sigh, Toni started the car and gave it a moment to warm up. Getting in the middle of Michael’s muck was not a good idea, especially when she was teetering on the brink of being cancelled. Her performance as of late had not been that great. Michael had warned her about that and had offered to help her improve, but he had been seriously busy at Section with other duties, and absent the rest of the time. Now she knew why.

She shuddered as she recalled the caustic stare Operations had given her yesterday. Forget Michael. For now. She would be at Section One at six a.m. to work on her marksmanship. Staying alive was more important than being nosy at this point.

Satisfied with her decision, she put the car in gear and drove away.

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

“Is everything clear?” Madeline folded her hands in her lap and leaned back in her chair as she studied Michael.

“Yes.”

Michael’s tendency towards monosyllabic responses irritated her. In all the time she had known him, she had never heard him utter more than three sentences at once, unless he was in mission mode. Even then, the sentences were clipped utterances designed to save time and garner a prompt reaction from his subordinates. It was difficult to study the Class Five operative when he revealed so little.

Madeline didn’t really suspect the new profiler, Andrea, of consorting with the enemy. She did suspect her psychological soundness, if the rumors from the substation she transferred from were true. If the insular young woman were left alone, perhaps she would function with no problem for an undetermined period of time. But Madeline didn’t like having a ticking time bomb in Section. Better to find out sooner than later whether or not they were dealing with a potential security risk.

Having Michael investigate her under the guise of being emotionally interested in her would efficiently kill two birds with one stone. Andrea’s reaction to Michael’s screw-and-search scenario after he dumped her would provide insight into her mental fitness. Most important of all, Madeline would have a chance to determine if Michael’s apparent apathy towards his mission wife was a ruse. Operations might be fooled by his carefully controlled façade, but Madeline wasn’t.

However, stilted rejoinders would not net her the substantiation she was after. She decided a blunt query would elicit the introductory intel she needed for her report to Operations.

“Given your marriage to Nikita Wirth, will you be able to complete this assignment?”

Michael’s gaze didn’t waver from hers. His hands remained loosely clasped in front of him. No signs of fidgeting. A steady pulse at the hollow of his throat, just above his collarless black shirt. His body language wouldn’t provide her any insight either.

“Yes.”

“You’ll be able to achieve an erection, properly arouse her, pretend you are enamoured of her so that she won’t suspect your motives for pursuing her?”

Not too crude, but sufficiently offensive. Any other operative would have been blushing by now, or bristling with disgust. Michael only stared at her vacantly as he replied. “This isn’t different from any other scenario I’ve performed.”

“You weren’t married then. I hope you won’t confuse your duplicitous marriage with your very real obligation to Section.”

“Have I given you reason to doubt my loyalty?”

He hadn’t yet. But she was sure that she would soon have evidence to prove her theory of his ambivalence to Operations.

“No.” She answered his question.

“Then why are we discussing this?” Michael rebutted. His stony expression hadn’t changed, but to Madeline, the question revealed his irritability at being interrogated about his relationship with Nikita. “Is that all?”

Madeline could think of no other reason to detain him, so she acquiesced to his veiled request to be dismissed. With a nod, she did so. “I expect an initial report once you’ve had sex with her. And I do expect you to have sex with her.”

Michael didn’t bother to reply as he turned and left her office. As soon as her door swished closed, she picked up her phone and dialed Hutchin’s cell phone. He was down today, and no doubt still slumbering after the arduous night of copulating they’d engaged in.

He answered the phone on the fifth ring, his voice still husky from sleep and sexual satiation. “Yeah?”

Madeline paused for a moment to control the sudden stirring of sensation the deep timbre of his voice elicited. Was it the memory of last night’s pleasurable interlude or her coming manipulation of Michael that made her nipples tighten and her heart race with excitement?

She forced herself to calmness before she spoke. “It’s Madeline. I have a job for you.”

**********

Toni loped towards Walter and hauled herself onto the stool on the other side of his workstation. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself.” Walter paused to take in her demeanor before he continued his work. “What’s up with you?”

“Briefing in twenty minutes.” Toni yawned and dropped her head onto her crossed arms.

“I mean with your attitude. You seem a little bummed today.”

She shrugged noncommittally, her face still buried in the crook of her arm.

“Michael was looking for you.” He told her.

“Michael’s a prick.”

Walter chuckled. “All men are pricks these days. You sure seem fixated on that word lately. If you’re in need of one…”

“Shut up, Walter.” Toni rose abruptly. “Where’s Michael?”

“In his office, I imagine.” Walter replied and leaned over the counter with a devilish grin. “About that prick you were needing.”

“Shut up, Walter.”

Toni moved away from him and walked towards Michael’s office, curtly nodding at Birkoff along the way. She didn’t bother to knock and Michael didn’t bother to look up as she noisily proclaimed her presence by slamming the door.

“I need to talk to you.” She told him as she flopped into the chair across from his desk.

Michael continued to type for a moment, then reached down and entered the code into his desk panel that would block surveillance to the room. He finally looked up at her. “Yes?”

“Nikita invited me to go shopping with her this weekend.” Toni told him. Ever since their initial dinner together nearly a week ago, Michael’s wife had called Toni on two separate occasions for chitchat and to invite her over for dinner again.

She had been out on a mission the first time. The second time, she had been home and their conversation had buoyed Toni’s sagging spirits. Nikita was a lot like her and they shared the same interests. Her suggestions for lunch or a run in the park were tempting, but Toni knew she had to heed Michael’s warning. She had made polite excuses, but her desire for a female friend and Nikita’s persuasive tactics wore her down. In the end, she had accepted the invitation.

“What did you tell her?” Michael wanted to know.

Toni fingered the short, dark curls at the nape of her neck and looked away. “I told her I would go.”

She looked out the window at the passing operatives instead of at him. Michael wasn’t prone to histrionics, but his laser stare was chastisement enough.

“You’ll have to call and cancel.” He insisted.

“Don’t you think she’d be suspicious if I kept avoiding her?” Toni reasoned as she bravely faced him again.

“Just do it.”

“If you gave me a clue, maybe I could understand why you’re so adamant about this.”

“I told you it’s none of your business. I gave you an order and I expect you to follow it.” Michael said softly, though his tone was anything but docile.

Toni sat up. “An order? What is this shit, Michael? Is your marriage to Nikita some sort of mission?”

Ignoring her, Michael glanced at the silver watch circling his wrist. “We have a briefing in fifteen minutes.”

“We’re going to have a briefing right here.” She retorted recklessly. “Once in a while, couldn’t you just level with me instead of keeping me in the dark. It would keep me from making a fool of myself.”

Michael closed his laptop and moved slowly around the perimeter of the desk. He leaned over Toni, his face inches from hers, each hand resting on the arm of the chair. Nervous though she was, Toni held her ground, her eyes locking defiantly with his.

“Don’t ask me about Nikita again. You wouldn’t like the repercussions.”

“You threatening me now, Michael?”

“Yes.” He concurred with deadly calm. A heartbeat later, his expression softened. “And protecting you. After the briefing, we leave for the Balkans. As soon as we return, I want you to call Nikita and cancel your date.” He straightened and strode from his office and Toni frantically searched for something to aim at his regal head. His laptop might draw blood, and she needed her shoe, so she resorted to her usual habit of saluting him with her middle finger. With a frustrated sigh, she stood and followed him.

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

Curled under a thick blanket with a glass of wine and the television tuned to a boring documentary, Toni chastised herself for being a chicken. She had no choice but to take Michael’s ultimatum seriously, but she was too ashamed to call Nikita and lie to her yet again.

Nevertheless, past experiences told her that Michael’s dire warnings should always be taken seriously. If severe consequences came with pursuing a friendship with Nikita, especially if the consequences involved Section One, she would nip their fledgling acquaintance in the bud as soon as possible.

No, right now.

She picked up the phone and punched in the required digits. Nikita answered after a couple of rings.

“Hello?” Her voice was throatier than she remembered. She must have been sleeping.

“Hi, Nikita. It’s Toni.”

“Hey!” Nikita greeted enthusiastically. The feelings of guilt begin to rise again, and Toni quickly brushed them aside.

“I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“Yes and no. I’m nodding off in front of the television, trying to wait up for Michael.”

“Where is he?” Toni tried to ask nonchalantly.

“Having dinner with a client.”

Dinner with a client, my ass. Earlier today, the Section grapevine reported that Michael was putting the moves on the new profiler, Andrea. Toni hadn’t believed it, until she’d seen it herself. Michael and Andrea leaving Section together only a couple of hours ago.

It had pissed Toni off. She didn’t like Andrea. Something about the woman set off warning bells in her head. What was with her hair, anyway? Toni also didn’t like the fact that Michael was apparently stepping out on Nikita after only six months of marriage. She could have sworn that he was really in love with his wife, however suspect the reasons for his marriage were.

Just when she had come to terms with Michael’s ‘This is Section’ mantra, he was giving her reason to loathe him again.

Asshole.

“It’s an awful night to be out.” Toni commented. It had been raining off and on all day and the temperatures had dropped into the fifties.

“Yeah.” Nikita agreed. “I tried to get him to reschedule, but you know him. Workaholic. I have a mind to go back down to his office and give them hell about working him so hard.”

Toni sat up straight. Had she heard her correctly? “You’ve been to Michael’s office?”

“Uh huh. His co-workers are pretty rude, but… whatever. I don’t plan on visiting him there again.”

What office? The more clues she was given, the more Toni begin to think Michael’s marriage to Nikita was all a big Section ploy. An office? Co-workers? There was no way Michael could hold down a real job and balance his duty to Section. It had to be an elaborate setup with Section operatives in place. Maybe abeyance operatives, as they were already short-handed and couldn’t have their best people sitting around just to dupe Nikita.

If that was the case, she might have unwittingly compromised a mission, a faux pas that could put her on the fast track to abeyance herself.

“I was calling about this weekend.” Toni began.

“Don’t tell me you can’t make it?” Nikita sounded disappointed.

“Well…I have a lot of things to do.”

“Ah, come on, Toni.” Nikita persuaded. “Can’t they wait? Michael’s going out of town this weekend and I don’t want to be alone again.”

Toni winced at the forlorn statement. She wondered if Michael’s business trip was Section related. Or maybe it was really a secret meeting with Andrea.

Prick.

She suddenly felt very sorry for Nikita. As lonely as she herself was, she certainly wouldn’t want to be in the younger woman’s shoes.

“I’ve already been putting them off for a while.” Toni tried again.

“Please?” Nikita begged. “You’d be saving me from being completely miserable. I haven’t decided yet if I’m going to work or continue going to school and I get terribly bored by myself.”

“Well…”

“Just lunch and a little shopping.” Nikita begged again. “Please?”

Toni sighed inwardly. Maybe this once she could go with her, then disappear completely afterward. She could always take Michael’s initial advice and tell her she’d taken a job out of the country. “I guess I could put them off one more time.”

“Great! I don’t mean to sound so needy, but with my mom and Julie so far away…” Nikita’s voice trailed off. “Anyway, I’ll see you on Saturday, okay?”

With a murmur of agreement, Toni said good night and tossed the phone away from her in disgust. Michael was going to cancel her himself for this.

Fuck him. Who was he to judge her when he was out screwing around? She jumped up from the sofa and trudged up to bed, trying to convince herself that she was not afraid of Michael.

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

Nikita sat across from Michael at the breakfast table in the kitchen, her foot nestled in his lap. His face was buried in a newspaper, a coffee mug balanced in his strong hand. She munched on a piece of toast as she studied him.

The previous evening, after waiting up for him until midnight, Nikita had left a light on for him and gone to bed. She didn’t know what time he had come in, but he had been in the shower when she had finally woke up at seven. While he made breakfast later on, he informed her that he would be working at home that morning and she informed him that she was going to look into a volunteer venture to keep her busy during the day.

He seemed distracted. Her attempts at conversation were met with a grunt here or a nod there. Nikita could only guess at the reason for his aloofness, but she had a pretty good idea what it was. It had begun to happen more frequently as the months passed. Whenever he returned from one of his business trips or meetings, he was sometimes distant, closed off. He always reverted to his usual self a short time later, and though she never asked what was going on in his head when he zoned out on her, it bothered her.

She couldn’t allow it to continue any longer. Too many secrets could destroy their already fragile union. They hadn’t started out on the right foot. Maybe if she came clean with him, they could lay everything out on the table and figure out how to make their situation work before things blew up in their faces.

“Michael?” She began hesitantly.

“Hmmm?”

“We need to talk.” Nikita announced firmly.

The paper came down and he stared directly at her for the first time all morning. “About what?”

“Us.” She picked up her fork and fiddled with her omelet.

His sudden wary tone unnerved her. So much for courage. Her heart was pounding anxiously in her chest as her resolve began to crumble. Who was she kidding? Once he found out the truth, he would probably bolt upstairs, pack his bags, and leave her.

No.

He would probably strangle her and then leave her.

“What about us?” He prompted in his softly accented voice. His hand slipped under the table to caress her leg, his fingers lightly tracing the silky skin of her calf muscle. Her eyes locked with his and a shiver of excitement rippled through her body. She was a fool to risk losing him, but the truth felt like a huge albatross dangling about her neck.

“That year I spent living on the street.” Her eyes lowered to her plate again.

His fingers stilled. “Yes?”

She chanced a look at him. His expression was guarded, as if expecting the worst. It was the worst.

“Go on.” He prompted.

Taking a deep breath, Nikita continued. “Something happened to me.”

The pealing of the doorbell cut the tension in the air. Nikita jumped and Michael’s eyes narrowed at her nervousness. He released her leg and gently moved it off his lap as he stood to go answer the door.

Nikita dropped her face in her hands and shook her head. She was trembling and the pounding in her chest had reached her ears.

What is wrong with me? There is no way I can tell him this and not expect all hell to break loose.

A few minutes later, Michael returned to the kitchen, a tissue-wrapped bundle of flowers cradled in his arm.

“What’s this?” She asked.

“They’re for you.” He murmured as he held out a tiny white envelope.

Bewildered, Nikita stood and took the envelope from him. It was blank except for her name, scrawled almost illegibly across it in red ink. She tore open the seal and scanned the card inside, eyes widening slightly in amazement. She looked up at Michael, then down at the card again. Her voice barely above a whisper, she read the card aloud.

“Congratulations on your marriage. I wish you and your husband much happiness. I am always watching over you. Love, Andrei.”

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

His features were schooled into a perfectly vacant mask. His emotions were in check. His arms were folded rigidly over his chest. Only the impatient drumming of his fingers on his sleeve gave away Michael's anxiousness, but neither Operations nor Madeline were paying him much attention at the moment. They were both leaning over Madeline's terminal, studying the analysis report on the card that Nikita had received from her father.

The decision to inform his superiors about Chernek's contact had been the most difficult of his life. After watching Nikita silently dump the flowers and the card in the garbage and storm upstairs, he had stood rooted to the same spot for several long minutes. The sure end to his marriage was just a few steps away and he could either feign ignorance, or do his duty and inform his superiors.

In a daze, he'd gone about tidying up the kitchen, glancing dismally at the trashcan whenever he passed it. Nikita's actions had been a clear sign that she wasn't too thrilled with Chernek's gift. The few times he had dared to mention her father, she replied with a pithy remark and deftly changed the subject. Maybe, just maybe, he could follow her lead and pretend Andrei Chernek didn’t exist.

Still, he couldn't take the chance that Section would somehow find out, which would make the whole situation much worse. Every now and then, he pilfered an AVSD unit from Walter and swept their home for evidence of surveillance. Nothing had turned up so far, but Section had other ways of tracking the goings-on in his household.

Nikita had bounded downstairs an hour later, showered, dressed, and in a better mood. He had returned to the kitchen table, his laptop open in front of him as he pretended to work. She had pressed a passionate kiss to his lips and told him she was going to her appointment. After she had left, he had walked with a heavy heart to the trashcan, plucked the card from it, and carried it to Section.

"There's nothing here to go on." Operations was saying as he glanced at Michael. "Not a trace of evidence that could lead us to Chernek."

Madeline's unfathomable eyes locked on Michael also. "And you didn't see anyone?"

"No." Michael dropped his hands to his sides. "The flowers were left on the doorstep."

Operations begin pacing. "He was very careful."

"But at least we know he's watching." Madeline interjected. "And he made contact way ahead of our initial projection."

"Then we wait. See what his next move will be."

Michael was buoyed by this decision. The less action by Section and Nikita, the further Andrei Chernek stayed away. In an instant, he was hit by another possibility. "There is something else."

Operations perked up. "Yes?"

"Nikita and I ran into Antonia outside of Section."

"Antonia, as in your material?" Operations growled. "When was this?"

Michael explained the details of Antonia's impromptu dinner appearance. Operations received the details with a scowl. Madeline's features remained impassive until Michael was finished.

"You were compromised over a week ago and you didn't bother to inform us until now?"

"I thought the situation could be contained." Michael replied evenly. "Nikita took a liking to Toni. She's intent on getting to know her better."

Operations grunted. "If Chernek's been watching all this time, he knows about her."

"Maybe this isn't so bad." Madeline tried to assuage him. "Michael appears more normal if he has friends and family."

"You're suggesting we trot out a few aunts and uncles too?" Operations sneered.

"No. Leave Antonia where she is. I'm sure I can shore up her background. Given Nikita's negative reaction to her father, maybe a more feminine, sympathetic touch is needed to persuade her to reconcile with him."

After pondering the idea for a moment, Operations agreed. "Do it." He turned to Michael. "Call Antonia in. Brief her on Chernek. Make sure she understands the importance of this mission."

Michael nodded and left and Operations looked back at Madeline. "You sure you can make Toni's profile solid?"

"Yes."

He turned to leave but her soft voice called him back. "May I have another moment?"

The sneer returned. "Let me guess. You're concerned about Michael?"

"Aren't you?"

"No. He was forthcoming, so I'm not worried."

"I still have doubts."

He snorted. "You always do when it involves Michael." Operations effectively dismissed the topic by leaving.

Madeline sighed. He was obviously still peeved about finding her with Hutchins. He was still unable to let go of their past and it was bleeding into their professional lives.

However much she enjoyed her physical relationship with him, Hutchins was not in charge of Section. She would end her affair with him as soon as he completed the special task she had assigned him and map out a strategy to get back into Paul's good graces.

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

Michael returned home later that evening after briefing an incredulous and judgmental Toni and evading Andrea. Nikita was already home, her small black sports car parked in their reserved lot. Madeline had given him hell about buying it for her, but Operations had approved. When it came to anything concerning the Chernek mission, the older man spared no expense.

The loft was warm and bright when he entered. Loud techno music blasted from the sound system. He removed his overcoat and draped it on the armchair. Walking over to the stereo, he turned the volume down and tuned the radio to soft jazz.

“Nikita?” He called out as he wandered toward the stairs. He was anxious to see her, assure himself she was still his.

“In here.” She answered from the vicinity of the laundry room.

Michael moved through the kitchen to the cramped space off of it where the washer and dryer were housed. He was greeted with a charming view of Nikita’s shapely bottom, encased in a pair of white shorts so tiny they could pass for underwear. She was bent over the clothes hamper, tossing garments into piles of whites, darks, and colors.

“Where were you?” Nikita asked in a somber voice as she flung a pair of his briefs into the white pile.

“I left a note. I had to go into the office for a while.” He moved towards her as she straightened, his hands resting lightly on her slim hips. “How did your appointment go?”

She frowned as he kissed her cheek. “Oh, that. It went okay. I’m going to be volunteering a few days a week down at that American Library. Kids reading program. Until I figure out whether or not I’m going back to school.”

She was mumbling. And flinging things. Which meant she was either mad or something was on her mind. When they were dating and she had become angry with him, she’d flung ice cream at him. A couple of months ago, he had returned home after a grueling two-week mission in which he’d only been able to contact her once. She’d flung a sopping wet bra at him that time, since she’d been washing her delicates when he’d finally ventured home. It was a bad habit that he was determined to break before she started flinging knives at him.

He remembered their conversation before her father’s flowers had arrived and backed away from her to lean against the doorjamb.

“This morning. You wanted to talk to me about something.”

Nikita nearly dropped the bottle of liquid detergent she held. Her back became ramrod straight and her blue eyes shuttered. “It was nothing.”

A shiver coursed through his body. He had never heard voice sound so - hard. It was deeper, her accent more pronounced. Whatever she had wanted to tell him must have been serious.

“It didn’t sound like nothing. You said something happened to you when you were living on the streets.”

She kicked aside a pile of darks and dumped another pile into the washer. “I said it was nothing.”

He closed his eyes, fear gripping his heart. Had Jamey left her exposed to danger at some point and she’d been harmed because of it? He could only imagine the horrors she had been subjected to. He opened his eyes and watched her as she slammed the lid closed and started the washer. He could barely form the words, afraid of what the truth might be. “What happened to you?”

His voice must have relayed his fear, because her head shot up quickly, her eyes clashing with his. “I wasn’t raped or anything.” Her voice rose an octave. She was agitated. Annoyed.

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Then what?”

She expelled an exasperated breath and frowned. “I don’t want to talk about it now. It was nothing really. I just … can we please not talk about this?”

“You were the one who brought it up.” He chided. “What’s wrong? Are you upset about your father?”

Nikita kicked another pile of clothes as she slammed the hamper shut. “I don’t want to talk about my father!”

He was startled. At her tone and her demeanor. He had seen Nikita angry before, but this…

She was turned away from him, her hands propped on her hips, her head lowered as she took deep breaths to calm herself. Michael straightened, unsure of how to handle her sudden mood swing. He was moving towards her when she turned around. He was surprised the transformation. A tiny smile graced her full lips and her eyes were warmer, though they shimmered a bit with unshed tears. She pressed herself to him and slipped her arms around his neck, her fingers playing in the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Let’s go out tonight.” Her lips hovered close to his. “I’ve got cabin fever.”

His arms circled her waist as he examined her overly bright smile. “I thought we could spend a quiet evening at home.” And maybe he could pry the truth out her.

“We always spend a quiet evening at home.” She fitted her mouth to his, her tongue teasing apart his lips to delve inside. He smiled to himself. She’d been eating peanut butter and chocolate again.

“Where do you want to go?” He whispered against her lips.

Abruptly, she pulled away and walked passed him to leave the room. “I don’t care. I’m going to change.”

Michael was still a moment, frowning at the swift return of her foul mood. He replaced the scattered clothes in the hamper and followed her up to the bedroom.

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

Michael sipped his drink as he watched his wife swaying to a slow tune - in another man’s arms. He had wanted to go to a nice restaurant for dinner. She had had other ideas. A popular jazz club that had an eclectic mix of patrons. He watched the man’s hands inch lower as Nikita swayed in her black dress that dipped dangerously low in the back. He wanted to shoot the man. And Nikita too.

He knew something was wrong with her, and it had a little to do with her father and a lot to do with whatever she had been about to tell him this morning. She didn’t usually drink a lot. In fact, Nikita had a low tolerance for alcohol. She got tipsy on two glasses of wine. And though he’d warned her not to, she had ordered three gin and tonics and downed all of them as if she were trying to forget something.

She wasn’t falling down drunk. Her inebriation didn’t make her angry, or sad, or giddy, as it did most people. Instead, it had made her stubborn. Michael wanted to go home, but she wanted to dance. And since he had refused, she had sashayed towards the bar and found someone who would. It hadn’t been difficult. Half the men there had been ogling her all evening.

She giggled as the man whispered something in her ear. Nikita shook her head, then leaned back, and proudly flashed her wedding ring at him. He didn’t seem to mind that she was taken, until she turned and pointed towards her husband. The man’s eyes widened as Michael, eyes glinting with restrained fury, stood and moved toward them.

He didn’t wait for an introduction. The man bowed to Nikita and disappeared through the crowd just as Michael reached them. He glowered at her as he took her arm and steered her towards the exit.

Nikita didn’t utter a word as they drove home. She kept her eyes averted, staring out the window. Every now and then, her hand would drift to her face and soft noises would emanate from her. She was crying, or trying hard not too. At the moment, Michael was too angry to comfort her.

He parked the car and came around her side to help her out. He wrapped her leather coat tightly around her as Nikita leaned into him, pressing her face into his neck. “I’m sorry, Michael.”

Now she was a sobbing drunk. Michael remained silent as he steered her into the building. He was afraid of what he might say, given his dark mood. He led her into the apartment and up to the bedroom as she continued to cry softly. He left her standing next to the bed as he entered the bathroom. His hard stance began to soften as he primed the shower.

He reentered the bedroom, where she sat dejectedly on the bed. Michael squatted down in front of her and removed her shoes. Her nose was red, face wet, eyes swollen. His anger fled completely as his heart constricted with love for her.

He unfastened her garters and slipped off her stockings. “You want to tell me what’s wrong now?”

Nikita shook her head. “I’m tired. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Sighing, Michael pulled her to her feet and tugged her dress over her head. Little wonder her dance partner had been so enamoured of her. She didn’t have on a stitch of underwear.

He led her into the bathroom, opened the shower door, and shoved her gently under the spray. She didn’t even flinch as the icy cold water sluiced over her body. Instead, she closed her eyes and tilted her head backward as the water slid over her face.

Confident that she could hold herself up, Michael released her and moved into the bedroom to change into a pair of pajama bottoms. He went back into the bathroom to find her stepping out of the shower. He picked up a thick towel and began to rub her briskly with it.

“Feeling better?” He asked as he examined her exhausted face and dried her hair.

Nikita murmured in the affirmative and he guided her to the sink and made her brush her teeth. He held out a nightgown for her, but she waved it away and padded into the bedroom to slip beneath the cool sheets.

Weary, Michael doused the lights and slipped into bed beside her. He draped is body over hers and fell asleep instantly. He awoke a short time later, roused by Nikita’s tossing and turning. He squinted at the bedside clock.

Two a.m.

He had to be up by seven to leave for his intel gathering mission. His head ached. His body was tired. Today had been draining emotionally, rife with his fear at losing her, loathing at himself for betraying her, and anger at her for declining to tell him whatever it was that was bothering her.

She quieted for all of one minute and then she was awake again. Nikita rolled over to face him, her hands roaming over his lean body. She tugged at his pajama bottoms and he pushed her hands away.

“Go to sleep, Nikita.” He ordered. She was probably still a little buzzed and disoriented. Michael was exhausted. His head was still pounding and his anger had returned. In his mind’s eye, he saw her flirting with the man at the club. He saw himself high-tailing it to Section like a good little operative, with Chernek’s card in his hand.

Her fingers slipped into the waistband of his pants as she kissed his chest softly. Now his heart was pounding along with his head. But he was still angry. At her and at himself. He felt…unworthy. That was it.

“I’m tired, Nikita.” Not too convincingly said, for a low moan accompanied the statement. He gave in, as anxious to smooth things over between them as she apparently was.

He moved to roll her over, but she wouldn’t allow it. He couldn’t see her face in the darkness, but he could feel a subtle change in her. She wasn’t a totally passive lover, but she usually acquiesced to him. Not tonight. Maybe it was the gin or the intense emotional storm they had both been caught up in, but his normally submissive lover became aggressive.

And strong. She didn’t softly ask him to roll over, or lie back, or sit up. As she kissed his mouth, his chin, his neck, she flipped him, rolled him, arranged his beautiful limbs exactly the way she wanted them. As her fingers caressed, pinched, plucked, kneaded, the ache in Michael’s head slowly dissipated and shifted lower.

Her actions were desperate, fiercely passionate, tender. Michael just lay there, too surprised, and aroused at her wildness to do anything else. And he enjoyed it immensely, wondering at the change in her behavior, but not willing just yet to do anything to detract her.

A long time later, after she finished having her way with him, he was weak and sated, spent and numb. He couldn’t move a muscle, not even to consult the digital clock on the nightstand. Neither of them had spoken much at all. While he was contemplating her odd behavior, she was flat on her stomach next to him, leg and arm thrown possessively over his body, snoring softly.

His hand flexed and gripped her bent knee as he closed his eyes. He could probably wake her and force her to confess her secret to him, now that she was more…agreeable. He couldn’t form a coherent thought at the moment, however. His body was still tingling. Ears still ringing. His thoughts merged into a blur as he slid into slumber.

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

Nikita awoke reluctantly to the persistent, shrill ringing of the bedside phone.

"Leave me alone." She grumbled and turned her face away, then winced at the dull slice of pain that knifed through her head. Her stomach heaved and a wave of nausea engulfed her. "Oh, God."

The phone seemed to ring louder and more ominously, as if commanding her to answer it. Nikita waited for the nausea to subside, then gingerly rolled over and fumbled for the receiver. "Hullo?"

"Good morning."

With difficulty, Nikita sat up upon hearing Michael's alert greeting, wincing again as the room swayed and her head throbbed. Her voice was a ragged whisper. "Hey, babe."

"How are you feeling?" His loaded question was tinged with rancor.

"How do you think I feel?" She rubbed her temple. Instantly, she regretted her curt reply. If her befuddled memory served her correctly, it was she that had plied herself with alcohol, even though he had warned her not to. "I'm sorry. Did I make a complete ass of myself last night?"

"No. You were close." Then he murmured in wry amusement. "But you were properly…repentant."

Nikita blushed at that remark, remembering the way she had manhandled him last night. She slowly reclined against the pillows.

"Are you mad at me?"

"Yes." He didn't hesitate to answer.

"Do you still love me?"

"Always." His soft reply was laced with quiet conviction and reverence.

Her spirits soared at his reassurance and she was grateful she hadn't mucked things up too badly. A burst of static crackled over the line. "Where are you?"

"In the air."

"So how long will you be gone this time?" She couldn't help but sound resentful.

"I'll be home late this evening."

"That's a switch. I'll wait up for you."

"You do that." He told her firmly. "We can have that talk you started yesterday morning."

Nikita grimaced at his tone. He had pulled the dominant husband routine only a few times since they had been married. Given the amount of trouble she had caused him the previous night, she was now inclined to play the docile, obedient wife.

"Yes, sir." Nikita felt like saluting. "May I go back to sleep now?"

"No. If you keep sleeping, it'll be harder to get rid of your hangover."

"I don't have a hangover." She lied.

"Alright." He placated her. "Take some aspirin and drink some tea. I'll see you tonight."

She slipped the phone back in its cradle and eased from the bed. Wrapping Michael's robe about her, she teetered downstairs, gritting her teeth at each step that jarred her aching head. She went to the kitchen and made coffee. Tea wouldn't help her malady. She needed powerful doses of caffeine. Nikita tossed in an extra measure of French Roast and pushed the brew button, then shuffled back upstairs.

She turned on the shower and then caught a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror.

"Ugh!" She exclaimed as she leaned against the vanity and examined her reflection. Her blond hair was matted and snarled. She hadn't bothered to comb it out last night after her shower, and with her head pounding viciously, she hated that she had to do it now. Her face was puffy and blotchy and her eyes were swollen and red-rimmed.

"Bleck." She shuddered and began to carefully comb out her tangled locks. While she did so, she thought ahead to her scheduled confession with Michael. As much as she wanted to clear the air between them, she didn't want to risk losing him at this early stage in their marriage. The truth would come out eventually. Until then, she wanted to enjoy whatever precious time they had left, in case he did decide to leave her afterwards.

She regretted mentioning it at all.

But what will you tell him?, she asked herself anxiously as the comb paused mid-stroke.

"You're going to lie." Nikita answered herself aloud. "Then pray that he forgives you."

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

"Rachmaninoff?"

Nikita tucked the CD under her arm and wandered down the aisle of the record store to the Rock section. "Michael likes classical. It's grown on me." She picked up another CD and waived it in the air with a mischievous grin. "But every now and then, I like to play something that makes his ears bleed. Keeps him on his toes.

Toni studied Nikita in her jeans, oversized red sweater, and running shoes. Her blond locks were pulled on top of her head in a messy ponytail and she wore no makeup. She looked like a teenager and more a fan of the flavor-of-the-month, cookie-cutter pop music that most young girls swooned over. "Has Michael or marriage mellowed you?"

"A little bit of both."

"Well, here." Toni handed her another disc. "This'll have him pulling his hair out."

"Oh no." Nikita shook her head. "He likes Led Zeppelin."

"Really?" Toni's mouth fell open. Michael? Liked Led Zeppelin?

"Are you ready?"

"Sure." Toni clutched her selections to her chest and followed Nikita to check out. "Michael always struck me as the cultured, sophisticated type."

That remark drew an amused snort from Nikita. "When he wants to be. The other day he was sacked out in the recliner, watching 'Star Trek', with a beer in his hand."

"A beer?"

"We didn't have anything else in the house."

"Star Trek?"

"I think he sees Spock as a kindred spirit."

"Ahhh."

Nikita lined up behind a young couple with matching, lime-green hair. "Why don’t you know more about Michael?"

She and Michael had gone over their convoluted family history during yesterday's briefing, so Toni fibbed easily. "I didn't meet him until I was in my teens. He was always sort of detached from my side of the family."

"That's right." Nikita nodded. "Your aunt married his father's cousin."

"Yeah." Or had her cousin married his father's aunt? Toni thought he had told her something different, but oh well. Nikita didn't really seem to care all that much.

They paid for their purchases and then casually strolled through the mall. Despite her misgivings, Toni had to admit that she hadn't spent a more pleasant afternoon in a long time. Lunching and shopping at her leisure, with Nikita along as company, was far better than sitting at home waiting for a phone call from Section. She was surprised at her own desire to share in ordinary, everyday girl things with another woman, given that she didn't get along with the female populace all that well. The exception had been her neighbor, Carla, but fearing the wrath of Section, Toni had given her the cold shoulder until she had ceased pursuing a friendship with her. Eventually, without a word, Carla moved away.

Nikita glanced over at Toni as they walked and emitted a derisive laugh.

"What?" Toni asked.

Nikita hesitated a moment before speaking. "When we first met, I was suspicious of you."

Dark eyes wide with surprise, Toni stopped dead in her tracks. "Suspicious? Why?"

Shrugging sheepishly, Nikita swung her shopping bag to and fro. "A beautiful woman appears out of the blue, surprised to see my husband, surprised to see me. Acts nervous, stutters a bit. Michael is edgy and looks as if he wishes you were somewhere else. Wouldn't you be suspicious?"

Some actress she was. Toni had thought she recovered nicely from the shock of seeing Michael. Apparently, their act hadn't fooled Nikita at all. "Y-you thought that I ... that Michael and I..."

"You're stuttering again."

Pressing her lips together tightly, Toni twisted the curls at the name of her neck. "You really thought --"

Nikita held up a hand to interrupt her. "I said I was suspicious. That's why I invited you over for dinner. To see how you and Michael would react."

Toni felt her insides tighten. If he got wind of this, Michael was going to implode. "Nikita, I would never -- "

"I know. I don't think the other woman would be bold enough to come to dinner." She reasoned, then looked at Toni with narrowed, wary eyes. "Would you?"

"Nikita!"

"Okay, okay. I was kidding."

There was an awkward silence as they fidgeted and stared at each other uncomfortably, oblivious of the throng of people who passed them. Finally, Nikita heaved a contrite sigh. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Toni rushed to assure her. "I understand."

And she did. Her thoughts drifted to Andrea, who Michael had apparently seduced and dumped judging by the way she had stormed through Section looking for him yesterday. And Lisa Fanning. And Nikita. Like a dolt, Toni stood rooted to the spot as Nikita regarded her with amusement. "Want a cup of exorbitantly priced designer coffee?"

Relieved, Toni agreed. "Sounds good."

As they loped companionably through the mall, Nikita draped an arm around the smaller woman's shoulders and began drilling her with questions about her love life. As she fielded them, Toni's female intuition kicked into overdrive. She was already plagued with guilt over her part in such a heinous ruse. With nervous clarity, she surmised that Nikita, regardless of her reticence, knew they were lying, and was simply biding her time until one of them slipped up.

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

Trying to ignore Nikita as she pranced about in skimpy, pink panties and a midriff baring T-shirt was difficult. Especially when she slowly and deliberately bent over, causing the silky material to pull tautly across her delicately curved rump. She was cunning, Michael thought with a wry grin. She knew her bottom and her legs were his favorite parts of her body.

Ever since he'd arrived home, she'd been waiting on him hand and foot. Running him a hot bath, fixing him something to eat, massaging his back. Despite the lateness of the hour, her energy seemed boundless. If he hadn't known her efforts to please and tease him were designed to make him forget about the talk they were supposed to have, he would have succumbed to her subtle seduction. As it was, it took all of his considerable will power not to spring off the chair and drag her to bed.

She gifted him with a sunny smile as she sat at his feet and massaged a fictitious kink from his calf muscle. As long as she wanted to play this game, he would let her. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back and enjoyed the feel of her devious little fingers manipulating his flesh. He would wait for her to go in for the kill before putting an end to her subterfuge.

He didn't have to wait long. She placed a soft kiss on his leg and then slid smoothly onto his lap. He suppressed a shudder as her warm breath fanned his neck, then her warm lips brushed his skin. When her fingers slipped inside his robe and ran up his ribcage, he opened his eyes and looked directly at her. She lowered her lips to his and he turned his head. She followed his mouth and he turned his head the other way.

Nikita sat back and regarded him in feigned confusion. "What?"

Michael turned back to her, his hands resting on her slim hips. "We were supposed to talk."

"Now?"

"I told you we would this morning."

Nikita rolled her eyes. "Can't it wait?"

"No."

"I'm horny." She stated bluntly.

His lips twitched and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. "We talk first."

Nikita moved off his lap and walked to the bed. She plopped down on it with a frown. "That's my weapon."

"Turnabout's fair play." He murmured, remembering the time she had angrily refused to make love with him. A two-day mission had stretched into ten and when he'd arrived home, she'd been pissed and distant. To make matters worse, he was sent off on another assignment the next day. He'd been distracted and short-tempered during it and had arrived home a week later furious and in need. Michael had half-dragged, half-carried his wife upstairs, with little protest from a then horny Nikita.

He abandoned the pleasurable memory as he watched Nikita lie back on the bed, arms stretched above her head, back arched. Her T-shirt strained against her small, but luscious breasts and she crossed one smooth leg sensually over the other.

Michael tilted his head and admired her supple form. "Nikita."

"Yes?" She whispered in her huskiest voice.

"Talk."

She sat up in disgust and hissed. "You can be so damned single-minded."

He pressed a pillow over his tightening groin and waited.

"Okay." Nikita sighed and stared at her feet, suddenly fascinated with her pink toenails. "When I was on the street...I got arrested for indecent exposure."

Michael knew about that. She'd flashed her breasts at a police officer trying to move her and a crowd of clamorous teenagers off private property. He also knew that was not what she had initially wanted to confess to him.

"Is that all?" He asked quietly.

"No." She gave him an embarrassed look before returning her gaze to her toes. "Jamey and I arrested for picking pockets."

Michael's eyes bore into her as he drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair.

"We didn't go to jail or anything." She continued lamely. "We just...uh...got probation and they sent me back to my mother."