Shelly stood in front of Walter's work table, naked to the waist. She had her arms crossed in front of her covering her breasts, standing still while he adjusted the new bullet proof vest prototype.

She had no problem with nudity, per se. On the beach, in bed, at home, sunbathing, in the hot tub, making love. She was totally comfortable with nudity in its proper place. But in the hallway of Section One was another case altogether. She felt cold and clammy from nervousness.

Walter was being his usual self, a likeable pervert. "You're really endowed, Shelly. Truly gifted." He grinned. "Almost as voluptuous as this girl I knew from Switzerland.."

"Shut up, Walter," she said playfully. "You know you make me jealous talking about your other women..."

"You'll always be the only one for me, Sugar."

"Liar!" she replied, smiling. The joking helped to ease her nervousness. Walter was all talk and she trusted him.

Walter was just about to hand her the vest to put on when Michael walked up to the equipment bay. He was no longer using the crutches, a slight limp the only sign remaining of his injury.

"I'll take it from here," he said.

Walter looked startled, then took a step back from Shelly.

"O.K., Michael," he said. He lay the vest back down on the table and left.

Damn, thought Shelly. This was just what she needed...

She had had a fantasy or two about being naked with Michael, but this wasn't exactly what she had had in mind.

She shifted one arm to keep herself covered and with the other she reached for the vest. "I'll do it," she said.

"No." Michael gently gripped her wrist. His expression was unreadable, as usual. "I'll do it."

"O.K.," she said. Shelley hated it that her voice quivered a little.

"Put this on first." Michael took out a folded piece of shiny material from his jacket. It was like a sleeveless T-shirt of silver mesh.

"A new sensor net," he explained. "We hope it will detect security devices in the building."

She nodded. Then she closed her eyes in gratitude as he stepped behind her and helped lower the garment over her head. Then he helped her put on the vest, velcro-ing it closed at the sides.

"How does that feel?" he asked.

"Different than the regular ones. It's lighter..."

"We hope it'll be useful against the new bullets," said Michael.

Shelly nodded. At the briefing earlier that week they had been told about a new type of bullet called the "Annihilator." Regular kevlar vests were useless against it. When the Anihilator entered human flesh, instead of flattening, it expanded and burned a wide area.

It didn't kill you. It just made you wish that it had.

Michael's hands were warm and gentle as he helped her on with her jacket. Shelly felt glad that Michael was here, looking out for her. She felt she could get through this mission with him by her side.

"How are you, Michael?" she asked.

"Fine," he said.

She waited for him to say something else, but he didn't.

After a minute, she sighed, and said, "So our team will have the new vests to protect them when we storm the building..." Their mission was to destroy the lab where the bullets were being manufactured.

"Not the team. Just you," he said.

She looked startled. Michael went on,"There is only one prototype and you're wearing it now. There was no time to make more."

"But you'll be unprotected! You know the other vests are useless," Shelly protested. "Michael, why me? You should wear it..."

"Because you're taking point," he said. Michael hated lying to her. He knew the vest she wore would be no protection at all.

He paused and looked at her again. Was it pain she saw in his eyes? Pity? She wasn't sure.

"Let's go," he said.

He followed her down the hallway to where the mission was loading.

Michael liked Shelly. They had grown close this past week. But like Nikita, she let her humanity get in the way. She couldn't turn off her emotional side.

She wasn't split in two like he was. She wasn't able to compartmentalize the horrid duties of Section from her feelings.

Shelly was a good opererative. She was fearless. But she ranted against the abuse they all took from Section. Once she had screamed at Operations when a mission had gone wrong and several children had been killed.

Shelly had another thing in common with Nikita. Operations didn't like her. Never had.

Shelly did her job, and did it well. But she needed to vent about it, and that had become intolerable to Section. Michael's way of coping, the way of silence and suppression, while difficult and more soul-damaging, had kept him alive.

Shelly's way would get her killed.

Michael looked at her back as she walked in front of him, his expression grim. She didn't know it yet, but she had been put in Abeyance, deemed expendable.

They entered through the open door of the van. Michael was the last to get in, closing the door behind him. He also shut the door to his heart side, the real part of him, in preparation for what he had to do.

His face blank, he tapped on the wall to signal the driver. "Go," he said.

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

It had all begun just a week before, when Madeleine had called Shelly into her office.

"Come in, Shelly," said Madeleine, smiling.

Shelly entered the office cautiously. Something about the bonzai trees gave her the willies.

She crossed the room toward Madeleine and noticed that Michael was seated in a chair in front of her desk. He struggled to rise from the chair. He was still using the crutches, his leg not yet healed from where Jurgen had shot him.

"Please don't get up, Michael," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder and pressing him back in his chair before she took her own seat next to him.

Michael looked at her. She was dressed in black pants and a long black tunic, which did nothing to hide her tiny waist, flaring hips, and generous bustline. She had short dark hair that was stylishly arranged around high cheekbones and sparkling blue eyes.

He turned back to Madeleine when she spoke. "Shelly, what do you think of Michael?"

Shelly looked startled. She didn't really know Michael, but she felt sorry for him. With Nikita gone on vacation and Jurgen's death just a short time ago, Shelly could only guess that he must be desperately unhappy. It was to be expected. They were stuck in Section, after all.

Instead of revealing any of these thoughts, she turned to regard Michael thoughtfully. Her eyes moved up, down, and back up to his eyes again.

Holding his gaze steadily, she said, "He's O.K. except for the delusions."

"Delusions?" asked Madeleine.

Shelly turned to her. "Yeah, he has this delusion he's a machine, not a human being."

She gestured toward the crutches. "Look at him, he's not healed up yet, and he's been working himself to death, not resting.."

Shelly shook her head. "He shouldn't be here. He should have his carcass in bed." She grinned at him. "His very fine-looking carcass, I might add..."

"Good," said Madeleine, smiling. "Then you have no objections to working with Michael other than his ....... dedication?"

"Working with him?"

Madeleine nodded. "Yes. With Nikita gone for a indefinite amount of time, Michael will need to be teamed with someone new for the next few missions. "

Her smile widened. "We want you to be partners. Do you think you can do that?"

Shelly looked at Michael. "Sure, no problem," she said somewhat uncertainly.

Shelly hadn't been an operative very long, but she had proven to be very adept. It was not her skills that Operations had a problem with, but her forthrightness. She wasn't afraid to tell anyone what she thought. And it had been a grave mistake to speak her mind to Operations.

She spoke her mind now. "I think it was Michael who needed the vacation, though. When does he get a break?"

Michael turned to her. "Not for a while. There is an important mission coming up."

"Yes," said Madeleine. "We're gathering intel now. It may be a week or so before we're ready to move. Until then, I want the two of you to get know each other."

She looked from one to the other. "Spend time together. Build trust. Establish a rapport. Is that understood?"

Shelly looked at Michael's profile. "Understood," she answered.

"You're dismissed."

Shelly stood up and held Michael's crutches for him as he rose from the chair.

"Thank you," he said, as he accepted them back from her.

When they got to the hallway, Michael spoke. "Would you like to go for coffee?" he offered.

She smiled at him. "No," she said. "I don't believe in wasting time, you'll learn that about me. You'll find I'll always be completely honest with you about what I want."

Her eyes looked him up and down again. "I don't want to go for coffee," she said.

"Where do you want to go?" asked Michael.

"Your quarters. Right now."

Michael's eyes widened. Then he turned and limped down the hallway. "It's this way," he said.

Shelly smiled and followed him.

When they got to his room, spartan, basic, and utilitarian, Shelly looked around.

"Where's the bed?" she asked.

Michael just looked at her.

"Do you want to establish a rapport or not?" she challenged.

"In here," Michael told her, hobbling through a doorway.

"Lie down," was her next order.

She took the crutches from him and helped lift his injured leg up on the bed as he lay back on the pillows.

"Shelly, I don't think..." Michael tried to protest.

"I don't want you to THINK, Silly," she said from the bathroom doorway.

"Don't move til I get back. TRUST ME." Shelly smiled at him and entered the bathroom. Her plan was going well so far.

Michael closed his eyes. It felt good to lie down. He felt too exhausted to argue with Shelly. He hoped she wouldn't be too upset with him when he rebuffed her advances...

"Here, take these."

Michael opened his eyes. Shelly stood fully clothed by the bed with a glass of water in one hand and two white pills in the palm of the other.

"It's your pain meds," she explained. "You're hurting and exhausted and you need to rest. Here."

Michael hesitated.

"Will I have to force you?" she teased. Micheal had no doubt she would if he refused.

He took the pills.

"Good Boy," she said. Shelly leaned over him and fished inside his jacket pocket. She removed his cell phone and switched it off.

"You're going to rest now, Michael," she told him. Nobody's going to bother you for the next several hours."

She smiled at him. "If I'm going to be your partner, I'm going to look after you. You're going to sleep all day, and when you wake up, you'll see to it that you eat something, got it?"

"Yes," said Michael obediently, already drowsy.

Shelly removed his shoes and covered him with a blanket. Michael was having trouble keeping his eyes open.

She went to the light switch and turned it off.

From the doorway, she said wistfully, "Do you think we'll make good partners, Michael?"

He didn't answer her. He was already asleep.

She walked back to the bed and kissed him lightly on the forehead. Then she left, closing the door softly behind her.

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

The next day, in Michael's office, he and Shelly were finishing up going over the intel for the upcoming mission. They expected to be going out within a few days.

Shelly threw the folder on the desk and rubbed her hand over her eyes. "God, I'm glad I didn't have any lunch before I saw those pictures," she said, referring to the dead victims of the Annihilator. "Poor souls."

"Maybe we can do something about it," answered Michael, "So it never happens to anyone else."

"Yeah," she smiled. "I wish I could be more like you, Michael. In control."

She sat up straighter and looked into his eyes. "Look, I apologize for my "Machine" comment. You handle things pretty well, compared to me. Sometimes I just lose it, you know? Like that time I cussed out Operations... Those kids getting killed just got to me..."

Michael closed his eyes. Cussing out Operations, screaming at him, had gotten her put in Abeyance.

"Maybe that's why they teamed us up," Shelly went on. "I could learn alot from you.."

Michael smiled. "I've already learned something from you," he said.

"Really? What?" She couldn't think what that could be.

"That I needed to sleep," he said, smiling.

She laughed. "How are you feeling today?"

"I'm fine," he said.

Shelly looked at him. He did look much better. She tilted her head and smiled back at him.

"Yeah, you do look fine today. Not so pale. And no more dark circles under those sexy green eyes..."

Michael still smiled, but looked a little uncomfortable at the same time.

"That was a friendly tease, Michael, not a come-on," Shelly decided to explain. "The only plans I have right now is for us to be friends. Anything more would make things too complicated..."

He looked at her, his face unreadable. Shelly wondered if she had gone too far with the "Just friends" comment.

"Too complicated for right now, I mean," she went on. "Maybe later on you'd like to... I mean, we could....."

She stopped, kicking herself for sounding so stupid. "Michael," she blurted out, "Have I ruined everything? Are you afraid to ask me out for coffee again for fear I'll drag you into bed again?" She asked, only half joking.

He gave a dazzling, breath-taking smile. "Neither one of those things frightens me," he said, leaning toward her across the desk. "Going for coffee or going to bed..."

She blushed.

He took her hand in his and caressed her fingers, rubbing his thumb sensuously across the back of her hand.

"In fact, it sounds wonderful, delicious...." he breathed. "Why don't we do it now?"

"Now?" she said, gulping.

"Yes, now," he said, standing up. "Let's go get some coffee.." He teased. "Isn't that what we were talking about?"

"Oh, sure.. COFFEE, right," Shelly stammered. "I'd love to.."

They smiled at each other as she held the door for him as he maneuvered his crutches and hobbled into the hallway.

"After you, mon ami," she said.

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

That had been five days ago. Since then, most of the awkwardness between them had dissapeared. As far as Shelly was concerned, she felt they had achieved all the goals that Madeleine had set for them. They had established a rapport, built a trust, become friends.

Now that friendship and connection would be tested on the mission.

Inside the van, it was just Shelly, Michael, Walter, and Birkoff.

Shelly looked puzzled. "Who'll be covering you, Michael, while I'm on point?"

"Never mind about that," he answered. "Just do the job."

He went through the mission profile again. "Birkoff will knock out the security system. Then you'll go in. The lab is on the second floor. Set a charge and then get out of there. I'll be right behind you."

"But our intel says all the guards are armed with the new bullets. You're going in unprotected!" Shelly was getting angry again. Hadn't Section done enough to Michael? Did they want to get him killed? she thought.

Birkoff and Walter weren't pleased with the scenario, either. But they were more resigned to it than Shelly was.

"Don't worry about me," Michael said. "You can do this. I trust you..." He put his hand against her cheek and gazed intently into her eyes.

All her tenderness for Michael welled up inside her and impulsively, Shelly raised one hand to his shoulder and stroked a lock of his hair lying there.

"Same here," she said.

Walter decided it was a good time for another lewd comment. "So you two are doing it, huh?" He grinned. "Tell me, Michael, is she a wildcat in bed?"

Before Michael could reply, Shelly put her arm familiarly around Michael's waist and looked playfully back at Walter.

"Yeah, we're doing it," Shelly lied smoothly. "We make like bunnies every night," she said, winking at the older man. "Don't worry, Walter, Honey... I'm just sleeping with him to make YOU jealous..."

Birkoff laughed, as did Walter. Michael smiled a little. Shelly released Michael's waist and sat down.

She sighed. She could hold her own against Walter. Section One and the bullets were another matter.

"Alpha point in twenty minutes," announced Birkoff.

Lord, don't let me screw this up, Shelly prayed.

Michael stood in the van doorway, waiting for Birkoff's signal.

"Security alarms knocked out," Birkoff said, looking up at Michael. "Go."

The two operativess exited the van, approaching the building cautiously, keeping to the shadows.

With Michael behind her, Shelly didn't see him activate the small jamming device in his palm.

The motion detectors fifty yards from the building were activated again. But she didn't know that.

Shelly moved forward, tripping the security system.

The alarms went off deafeningly and spotlights strafed them. Guards aimed weapons in their direction.

"Abort!" Michael shouted. "We have an abort condition.."

The van pulled closer to the retreat point. Shelly and Michael ran.

She saw a sniper's red laser light on Michael's back and leapt on him, bringing him down to the ground. Before she could fall on top of him, the bullet hit her.

Shelly screamed. It was like fire burning her, a ball of flame in her back, growing larger....

Michael scrambled up and lifted her swiftly on his back, running. The van pulled up close to them and he leapt into the open door. As the van peeled off, more bullets pinged against its dark gray sides.

Inside, Walter helped Michael lay the wounded girl down on the seat. Amazingly, she was still conscious. Her face was pale and she was moaning, her breaths coming in struggling gasps.

Michael sat next to her and pulled her into a reclining position, her head supported against his chest. He put his arm around her.

Walter got out the Med kit and came toward her. When he reached for the fastenings on the vest to remove it, Michael grabbed his wrist.

"Don't touch her," he said.

"Look, Michael, I can't treat the wound if I can't see it," said Walter, exasperated. "Let me help her, damn it.."

"No," said Michael, still gripping his wrist. "That's not the mission profile."

Birkoff looked up in shock. Walter was stunned.

"What are you talking about?" Walter shouted. "Do you want her to die, for God's sake?"

Walter looked down at Shelly. He eyes were closed now, but her breath still came in uneven gasps, punctuated by soft moans.

"No," Michael said softly. He released Walter's wrist and then placed his hand against Shelly's cheek again.

God, how he hated this, Michael thought. "The mission was to bring back a bullet and see how it worked on a live subject."

Walter looked like he was about to be sick.

Birkoff put his face in his hands.

Michael looked down at Shelly and rested his cheek against her hair. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Except for Shelly's moans, the ride back to the Section was completed in total silence.

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

The next twelve hours in Medlab were hell. Shelly hadn't been given any pain medication. There had been no ease from the torment.

She lay on her side, still gasping. First, the vest had been carefully removed, then the mesh shirt. The latter had recorded the telemetry of the shot pattern and trajectory of the bullet. Since then, being naked in front of men was the least of her worries.

The wound had been prodded, sampled, measured, and inspected by several teams of weapons experts and technicians, as well as doctors.

One of the doctors kept asking her periodically to describe her pain on a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst she'd ever experienced. The pain was indescribable; ten didn't come near it.

"About three hundred," she gasped.

After that answer, the doctor suspected she might not be lucid and asked her questions about what day and year it was and who was the current President of the United States.

If I had a gun, she thought, he'd be first on my list.

She moaned again, the weariness and pain overcoming her. No, she corrected herself. I'd shoot myself.

Finally, the doctors all left, one of them pulling the sheet up over her before he, too, left her alone. Shelly sighed, at least relieved from their intolerable pestering, if not from the pain.

Shelly reflected that she wouldn't have to shoot herself. She'd just die of this torture. At this point, she would welcome it.

The tranquility only lasted a few minutes before she heard someone enter the room. She was too weary to open her eyes to see who it was.

The sheet was pulled back from her shoulder again.

"Nasty," said Operations, looking at the wound. He flicked the sheet back over her.

"Did we get what we needed?" It was Michael, his voice sounding strained.

"Oh, yes," said Operations, almost merrily. "We now know exactly how to make some bullets of our own."

"What happens to her now?" asked Michael.

"She probably won't survive the bullet's removal. If she does, she'll be cancelled."

Michael stopped him from leaving with another question. "Why cancel her? Why not use her again?"

"I'm listening," said Operations.

"We could track her recovery, see how she reacts to different treatments..."

"And after that?" said Operations.

"Shelly is predictable, easy to manipulate. We could use her emotions against her again.."

"Maybe you're right. As much as her emotions are a pain in the ass, they do make her....reliable." Operations relented.

"All right, Michael," he said. "Tell the doctors to do everything to save her. If she survives, she's out of Abeyance. For now."

Shelly heard Operations leaving. She forced herself to remain perfectly still.

Michael let out a breath. Shelly had saved his life, and he had pleaded for hers, making her survival sound valuable to Operations in the only way he could, by talking about her feelings as if they were a commodity.

Maybe he hadn't done her any favors. Maybe she'd be better off dead.

Michael sighed again and reached out a hand to Shelly's hair, caressing one lock of it very lightly. "I'm sorry," he said.

When she heard the door close behind him, Shelly opened her eyes and let the tears flow.

She hadn't expected to be shown any respect from Operations, so that was no surprise. But Michael.....

She had trusted Michael as her comrade, her friend. She thought they were beginning to understand each other a little... His cold words had stung her almost as much as the bullet. She understood now why Nikita had, mistakenly, turned to Jurgen. Shelly had never been on the receiving end of one of Michael's manipulations before.

"You were right, Walter," she whispered to herself. "About Michael and me." She felt so used. She felt like a fool, angry at herself for her blindness and stupidity. "You were right, Michael WAS screwing me..."

She turned her face into the pillow and sobbed.

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

Two weeks later, Shelly stood in front of the door to Michael's office, trying to get the courage to open it. She took a deep breath and turned the knob. Here goes...

"You wanted to see me?" she said.

Michael stood up from his chair at the desk and came toward her, helping her into the chair he pulled out for her.

"Yes. How are you feeling?" he asked, looking at the sling she wore supporting one arm.

"It still hurts," she said pointedly, hoping her words would convey more than one meaning.

They did. Michael lowered his eyes."You'll be glad to know that the lab where the bullets were made has been completely destroyed." He paused and let out a sigh. "We won't be using them ourselves, either. They'd be too dangerous if turned against us..."

"Yeah, so I've heard..." she said.

"Shelly.." Michael began.

"What? What do you want from me?" She was starting to lose her tenuous control on her emotions, the anger welling up.

"I want you to know it was never my intention to hurt you..."

"That's a good one, Michael! That was EXACTLY your intention..." The anger flooded over her boundaries and overtook her.

"You know what the worst part was?" she went on, before he could respond. "You know what hurts the worst?" She took a sobbing breath. "The way you made me feel about MYSELF. Stupid, I feel so stupid. I feel humiliated. I feel ASHAMED. Ashamed, isn't that funny?"

She took another shaky breath. "I feel ashamed, when all I ever did was try to look out for you, to be your friend..."

The tears in her eyes spilled down on her cheeks and she sobbed. She hadn't intended to lose it like this. She felt even stupider now.

"Sorry," she said, trying to get control again. "Why am I bothering you with this? I know you don't care, anyway..."

She got up to leave.

Michael went to the door and stood in front of it, blocking her way.

"Shelly, you have to understand this," Michael said intensely. "I did it to keep you alive. They were going to cancel you anyway. I recommended you for the mission so that you'd have a chance for survival. Otherwise, you'd be dead by now..."

She stared mutely at him.

The next part was difficult for him to say, but he had to warn her. "If you want to go on surviving, you need to trust me again..."

She closed her eyes and lowered her head. "I don't know if I can ever do that again.." she said, her voice almost a whisper.

Michael took a step forward and very carefully pulled her against him in a gentle embrace, taking great care not to touch the injured shoulder.

She did not resist, defeated. In spite of herself, she was comforted by the embrace. Tentatively, she brought her good arm up to hold his shoulder and leaned her head against his chest.

Into his collar, she said, "Michael, don't do me anymore favors. Next time, just let them cancel me."

"I'm sorry," said Michael. He didn't know waht else to say. Watching her suffer, knowing he was the cause of it, had been almost unbearable. She wasn't the only one who felt ashamed.

She lifted her head up and pushed away from him, a little more composed now.

"Me, too," she said. He opened the door for her and she left.

Michael sat down at his desk and put his head in his hands. Maybe he had been trying to be a machine so long he didn't remember how to be human. He felt like a piece of the little humanity he had left had just died inside him.

He stayed like that, thinking, at his desk for a long time. At last, he lifted his head and turned on his computer to finish some reports.

It was just another day in Section One.

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