Nikita had been back 10 hours from a short in and out mission. She was reading the paper when she saw the ad for the craft and antiques fair in St. Joseph, a small community a couple of hours north of Paris. Who cared if she was depressed, she needed to do something fun to get out of the funk.

It was early spring and Nikita wore her checkered low slung trousers she had just bought in a high-end boutique, powder blue belly sweater and light blue sweater coat. She was going to buy herself a new silver toe ring. The advertisement boasted that the silver smith would be there. She looked beautiful, as always smelled wonderful and wore her straight blonde hair loose but for a strand twined with baby blue ribbons.

She had taken a train since the park was right off the train station and the short trip was elegant and reminiscent of days gone by. She crossed the busy street elated for it had been a year since she had done anything remotely normal.

She immediately stopped at a kiosk were they were selling hand painted crafts. She savored the home made pastries, bought a tiny hand made birdhouse and a cute hand mirror because she saw her happy reflection on it. Rarely did Nikita see herself as beautiful, this day she felt beautiful.

The band was setting up in the gazebo in the middle of the park and Nikita could hear the notes while they lined up their instruments. She could see a man selling hot chocolate and bought one relishing in the taste of the rich froth. She bought her ring and chatted amicably with the hippie looking artisan, reminiscent of Walter - who Nikita truly loved.

She noticed a couple selling antiques, including some really old books and stopped to browse when she came upon a first edition on the life of Moliere. She was teary eyed buying the very expensive book knowing it would please Michael and as the man wrapped it carefully in special paper she was making plans on how to give it to him.

“Excuse me you wouldn’t happen to have any books on Moliere.” The female voice said in perfect French.

“I sold my last one to the pretty blonde over there.” The man stated. “Maybe you could make a deal with her.”

Nikita was by now standing by a tarot card reader’s kiosk. She was laughing with a gay couple and a very handsome man and his 15-year-old son. They were listening to a gypsy tell Nikita she was about to meet the biggest impediment to her happiness. The handsome man flirting with her was telling the gypsy he would give her big money if she saw him in Nikita’s future… Nikita laughed, when the woman customer from the antique kiosk approached her.

“Excuse me, the vendor over there tells me that you just bought his first edition on Moliere, would you consider selling it to me, my husband would love it.” The pretty brunette said.

“Sorry, it is my boyfriends favorite and I want to surprise him with it.”

“But I never told you I liked Moliere” The handsome father and son team continued flirting with the giddy blonde.

All of a sudden Nikita was not listening anymore, approaching was a man pushing a stroller. Michael wearing dark glasses, brown leather jacket, jeans and a silver chain resting on his brown sweater covered chest. He was looking to the garbage can so to throw away the wrapper of the baguette he had just finished eating.

“Michael” Nikita said and immediately regretted it, she was sure his mission wife was somewhere around.

“You know my husband?” The woman before her smiled.

“Hello Nikita” Michael who was quicker than Nikita said, “it has been a long time, this is my wife Elena” moving forward and kissing both her cheeks and taking her in his embrace. “Nikita is a cousin of sorts on my stepfather’s side.” A resplendent smile, one that did not reach his eyes, covering the lips Nikita knew so well.

Nikita gave a nervous laugh and looked at Elena who was wrapping her arms around her and saying something about any family of Michael’s…

“Isn’t if funny that the love for Moliere runs in the family.” Elena said, oblivious to the palpable tension.

“It comes from my stepfather - how have you been, it’s been a long time.” Michael repeated himself.

“I didn’t know you had married Michael, congratulations Elena, Michael is a fine man… and what have we here, is this your baby?” She had recuperated nicely…on the outside, inside she was…Beam me up Scotty, she wanted to shout.

“This is Adam our son” Elena cheerfully said and handed the sleeping baby to Nikita.

“He is beautiful, looks like Michael when he was a boy.” Nikita said holding the baby to her face and caressing the gorgeous infant. Nikita wanted to run, scream, how mean was fate.

Michael on the other hand wanted to throw her on the table and make her pregnant right there. His heart sang when he saw his beloved holding his son, it should have been their son. They exchange a look of pure love, of pure sorrow, of pure regret.

“Michael said your name the other night and I asked him in the morning who Nikita was, thinking it was some old Russian guy. He told me he was thinking how much Adam looked like his cousin, he never clarified Nikita was a beautiful woman. I am jealous Michael.”

Nikita smiled and offered some explanation for her name and agreed that the baby did look like her when she was young. Nikita thought this woman couldn’t be for real…so sweet, sickening; so naïve, worrisome; so understanding, bull shit.

“Even though we are not blood relations Michael’s mom used to tell me I looked like Michael when he was an infant.” Nikita was on a roll.

Good recovery Michael thought. He could not take his eyes off Nikita holding his son in her arms. She was an angel who would probably never know motherhood firsthand. And he started to worry how her heart was going to take this new blow.

“We are going to an early supper, you must come with us.” Elena said.

“No, no I don’t want to intrude.” Actually what she wanted to do was run. Were the hell did Scotty hide when she needed him most.

“Michael” whine, whine “convince her; we never see anyone from your family.”

“Please Kita.” His sexy accent, his deep voice, his incredible charm and somewhere in there - the mission leader.

“OK but I have to be on a plane early tomorrow, so I can’t be out too late.” The blonde said, giving up on Scotty beaming her up. “I came on the train, am in Paris for a business trip and saw an advertisement for the fair. I always love artisan fairs.” She was blabbering and realized it, but her heart was exploding with the sight of the happy family.

”Tell you what, you go with Michael to change.” Nikita wanted to slap the crap out of the whinny assed wife, who the hell did she think she was. “And we’ll meet in the restaurant say in 3 hours? Let’s go to The Forge Michael, what do you say?”

“Elena that is too complicated, Nikita is saying she needs to get up early, it is already 5 o’clock; let us just go somewhere near and I’ll take her home…how about Café Decharmis?” He said.

“Well then let’s take her to our home” turning to Nikita “It is only 5 minutes away and we’ll order Chinese or Michael can bar-b-que. And we can put Adam down - I’ll need to feed him soon anyway.”

Michael saw Nikita’s tension building, she didn’t want to go to their home and he shuttered his eyes. The baby was becoming fussy, he needed to be fed. “Kita when are you leaving Paris?”

Nikita pulled composure out of thin air and answered, her voice breaking and she handed the baby to Elena before coughing. “I am leaving tomorrow for a day and will be back Tuesday afternoon, will be staying for a week then.” She was making it up as she went along but Michael seemed to approve.

“What do you do?” Elena asked, handing the baby to Michael. Adam immediately calmed in his father’s safe embrace. Elena put an arm into Nikita’s bent elbow and pulled her along to their car.

“I am a buyer for a large retail chain in the States.” Nikita said.

“Really? Then you are not the cousin who is in the art world?” Elena questioned her.

“Yes, I buy Art for them.” Nice safe Michael thought. “We don’t have much family left.”

“Except for Aunt Madelyn.” Michael added.

“But she is virtually at death’s door.” Nikita added, wishful thinking on her part.

“Yes, I saw her about a week ago.” Michael said.

They reached a new white SUV with a baby seat on the back. Nikita wanted to throw up and was sure she would die when she realized she was going to have to see the damn house anyway. “Michael, I really don’t want to put you out. Why don’t you let me take the train, I have the return ticket and I’ll see you guys when I come back. Perhaps you can come down to the hotel and I’ll take you two out to dinner.”

Against Elena’s protest Michael agreed. Elena whinny bitch that Nikita had decided she was, excused herself to feed the baby. At least she didn’t pull out a tit that was probably all Nikita would have needed. She explained though that she didn’t have enough milk this time, not like she had when Alan was born, so she had to feed this baby formula.

She spoke of Baby Alan without emotion, not like Michael who broke down when he spoke of his son. This woman…there was something about her. Couldn’t Michael see it? Well it was not Nikita’s place, for she would have come across as the jealous other woman.

She kissed Nikita and had Michael walk his ‘cousin’ the half block from the parking lot to the train station. Silent Nikita fists at her side. Michael protesting the pace, she was almost running. Sadly for Michael, it was obvious that Nikita didn’t get the fact that this was but a mission to the handsome man that loved her so.

“Slow down Kita, she can’t see us from here, please let me know you are ok.”

“No Michael I am not ok.” She said tears running down her beautiful face. “I thought I could handle it, I don’t think about it Michael. I understand your position, I respect your decisions, but don’t ask me to be immersed in this…this…farce, or is it Michael? Are you this good an actor?” She had finally stopped, the freaking train station was empty but for a lone porter.

“Kita please…” Michael pleaded, very un-Michael like.

“Excuse me” she said “the train to Paris?”

“Just left.” The porter said.

“NO!!!!!” She screamed, sat on a wooden bench and openly sobbed.

“Kita…” Michael started.

“Don’t even think it Michael, I am not going back, I can’t…”

“Kita I was going to suggest we rent you a car.” Michael sitting by her, arms wrapped around her, holding her chin and whipping her tears with his soft kisses. His insurmountable composure running out.

“Where do you suggest we rent a car Michael, the place is empty, can’t you see?” She continued. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me where you lived so I wouldn’t make this incredible blunder….” She was angry now. “God, when Madelyn finds out…”

“Kita, wait here, I will take her home, make an excuse and come get you. I will take you to…”

“No what’s the use - you will take me to your house, I will get this over with, it is inevitable Madelyn is going to make me do it anyway. I can hear her now ‘Nikita you have to become Michael’s wife new best friend’…”

“We’ll drop her off then and I will take you to your home. Is that ok?” He calmly, sweetly asked.

“Let me compose myself…the hell with it, let’s go.”

Michael stopped her in a dark corner of the station, drew her to his body and sweetly kissed her responding mouth. “I am sorry Kita, I do care and it is just a mission…”

///

Elena was glad Nikita would see her house. The elegant rather large home sat on a perfect street. Manicured lawns, rambling driveways, expensive cars, old trees. The home sat quite a way back from the road. The neighbors across the street brought a large package that had arrived while the Samuelle’s were out.

Nikita had to be almost dragged out of the car by a Michael with his damn iron mask firmly in place. “Kita please, the package is Section fabricated, I am glad you are here…please come in.” He pleaded.

Nikita reluctantly got out of the car and whispered “This is going to cost you…”.

His answer as absurd as it was made the blonde laugh out loud “Yes I know, shit rolls downhill.”

When they entered the house they found Elena in the den crying. Michael was carrying a sleeping Adam. Nikita lagging behind, taking in the warmth of Michael’s home. Taking in the knowledge that mission or no mission this was Michael’s family; this was Michael’s son

“What is it Elena?” Michael said handing the baby to Nikita and rushing to Elena’s side. He did have the presence of mind to ask the blonde to put the baby up in his room, first door to the left. For this Nikita silently thanked the obviously conflicted man.

Nikita controlled her emotions as she entered the baby’s perfectly decorated little boy’s room. She changed his cloth diaper and put him into footed pj’s and laid him to sleep on his back, making sure the bed was empty of toys and pillows. But first she rocked him and sang an old lullaby her mother used to sing to her - arro rro mi nino, arro rro mi amor, arro rro pedazo de mi corazon.

She wondered were Roberta had learned a Spanish lullaby and freaked when she saw the red light of the monitor blinking at her. She was sure that Michael and Elena had heard her. But when she was quiet she realized that Elena was crying relentlessly and Michael was trying in his award winning hushed tone to calm her down.

When she returned to the den, the gift box still sat by the door unopened. Michael sat on the arm of the sofa next to his wife. He quickly moved the hand he held around her when Nikita entered. Elena was still softly sobbing.

“He’s asleep.” Nikita said.

“Thank you. I’ll go up if you don’t mind Nikita. Michael will take you back now. I am sorry the perfect day ended like this. Please call me when you get back.” She hugged Nikita, a genuine caress and walked head bent up the stairs.

Michael looked at Nikita; she was grief-stricken for this woman was a pawn in a game she didn’t even know she was playing. So he grabbed the keys to the Citroen and walked out the door of the house, his blonde lover close behind.

“Section sent another parcel from her father…she always has the same reaction, although usually she throws it across the room.” And as if by script, Michael and Nikita heard the large package crash to the floor, the lingering chime of some music box resounding in the silence of the night.

Michael pulled the car out unto the quiet tree lined street; he reached over and grabbed the blonde’s hand bringing it up to his lips in a tender kiss. They rode a while in silence. The feeling of closeness permeated the car - they were two people in pain, but very much in love.

“Kita, I’ve missed you, I’m sorry my love…”

Nikita turned her body to face Michael’s, they were now on a highway on their way to Paris. The blonde woman made a decision that she felt could be her last - she was going to fight for this man she truly loved. “Michael, how conflicted are you?” She said.

He looked at her quizzically. “You have to travel 2 hrs to Paris and two hrs back; four hours wasted on the road. Let’s stop at a hotel and I’ll go back tomorrow” she said and he smiled. “You were the one that told me we needed to take what we could.” She saucily added.

“I did, didn’t I.” He retorted.

Michael spotted an exit and the off ramp, wheels squealing he got off the highway. They found a Sheraton and Michael pulled the goldish color car unto its driveway. Nikita jumped off and yelled happily “I’ll get it”, entered the establishment and registered.

Michael looked at his watch, it was now 19:25, and they’d left his house 15 minutes earlier. He figured he had to leave around 23:30. He knew this was the wrong thing to do, he knew he owed something to the mother of his child. But he owed something to himself, to Nikita and to their unfulfilled desire.

Nikita came back with one of those maps that show you were your room is; a plastic card key and a smile on her face. He had to smile also, how little this woman asked of him and how little Michael was allowed to give her. She walked to a side entrance making exaggerated signs with her arms for Michael to park and follow. He made sure the car was parked behind the building and away from the highway.

Their room on the second floor was one of those indescribable hotel rooms. New décor, clean to a fault and quite ordinary - if Nikita would have described her recent fantasies to Michael, she could guarantee this scenario was not part of any of them. But she was thrilled anyway and sat soundly on the bed, jumping a bit when his stretched body hit the mattress. He started to play with the edge of her sweater, the sliver of skin above her waistband that had been torturing finally within his reach.

Nikita said, “first we order some food” and took the list of room service options, settling for the Pizza delivery. They ordered like children in some parental chaperoned vacation and proceeded to do what they had denied themselves for over a year, to love each other body and soul.

Michael was slowly kissing the spans of skin that was obsessing him. She was reclined on the bed, holding her upper body with her arms, he was half off the bed. “You know Michael I never did anything like this before. Do you think I am bad?” She questioned.

“Kita, I think you are very bad…can you be a liddle bid badder?” He inquired, eyebrows raised, quirked corners of the incredible mouth.

“I will be, however, we need to eat and it would not look right if we were…” He stopped her his mouth covering hers with a passion that overwhelmed her, she let out a gasp and lay on the bed, pulling him down with her.

That is all they were doing - kissing. Michael had his hands buried deep in her hair. His gifted tongue lapping at her over sensitized tongue. The tongue completely out of his mouth licked her lips, her gums, her teeth, and her tongue, all the way into her throat. He was softly capturing his essence through her mouth for he wanted these few hours to last him until their next encounter.

He then started nipping at her lips, softly sucking her bottom lip into his mouth. Then he bit her chin, sucking it, licking it, she was dripping wet and grabbed one of his hands and brought it between her legs. Michael laughed, opened his eyes and saw her looking at him.

“Be patient” and moved again to the sliver of skin between her top and her trousers. “Mmm great invention this low hip hugging fashion.” He inserted his tongue in her belly button and lapped there too.

There was a knock on the door and Michael got up to get the delivery. Nikita turned on the television found a porno movie and called downstairs to have it turned on - Sex Kittens in Space.

Michael put the pizza down on the round obligatory table and took the plastic ice bucket to go get soft drinks and ice. He came back with brownies wrapped in plastic that looked quite good. Nikita had laid a towel on the bed they weren’t using and had opened the pizza box, already munching on a slice of three cheeses, black olive, portabello mushrooms and anchovies.

He put down the drinks and took the slice from Nikita, she was laughing at the buxom blonde squeezing the actors schlong through her very large breasts. Michael raised an eyebrow and said “What a waste.”

“Oh you think so, watch now” the woman taking the man’s extremely large penis in her mouth while he continued screwing her breast. He came letting out a grunt and she drank his seed. “See, who needs a story line.”

“Kita, let’s eat, will practice some of the…” He was munching on his first slice, Nikita on her third.

“It is an instructional film Michael, wait ‘till you see what I learned when you were getting ice.” She interrupted.

She gave him the book while they ate and he kissed her hard, he would take it home and think about her as he treasured it. They spoke of mundane things, commented on the movie that still played and wasted an hour or so being ‘normal’. And then they got into the seriousness of fulfilling their conflicted beings with wonderful lovemaking.

“Kita…I want you to know that I’ve been having trouble…performing with Elena.” He shyly commented before they started.

“Michael…” she jumped and kissed him hard, sitting on his lap and really grinding her cute little ass unto his very hard member. “It doesn’t seem to be happening now…”

Michael smiled and continued kissing the blonde goddess. So little, it took so little to make this woman smile. So the lovemaking continued slow and sensuous. Michael disrobed himself and slowly disrobed the woman he loved so much. She wanted to hurry, he wanted it slow, so he set the pace.

Michael started by kissing Nikita’s breasts. Her rosy tips hard and sensitive, his tongue and teeth caressing them at a maddening slow wet pace. He was sucking them into his mouth and caressing them with his tongue after nipping at them with his teeth. One of his hands held Nikita’s hands over her head and the other hand stroked the breast that was not being kissed.

He then, to her complaint, moved down her flat stomach to her belly button. There he teased the tender skin all around with his talented tongue. She was writhing in the throngs of passion so he pinned her down with his body on her. He wanted her like that - needy and greedy.

Michael finally looked up at her and said. “What is it you learned in the video?” His voice was husky with the need increasing in him.

“Come up, let me show you … But I must take it all the way through.” She said as he released her hands.

Nikita pushed Michael to lay on the bed, she pilled three pillows under his head so he could watch, she said. “You can’t close your eyes, or move.” He promised, of course the man had an iron will.

She took a piece of ice from the bucket and as slowly as he had touched her before she was touching him now. The ice firmly held between her beautiful lips. She started in his mouth, both lovers sucking on the frozen cube and then she painted his body with the ice. Slowly, methodically, his eyes fixed and dilated, his mouth a bit opened breathing hard.

She had tied his hands to the headboard with the ribbons he had taken from her hair. She approached his manhood, standing like a flagpole. She was on her hands and knees facing him, and he could see her gorgeous ass raised, reflected on the mirror across from the bed. She put his hard member in her mouth and undulating she imitated the movements of sex with her exposed ass.

Her hands holding on to the scrotum and the base of the penis, while her mouth sucked with great force the head and swallowed the shaft completely - deep throat had nothing on her. Michael was having trouble breathing, he was calling on all his strength and purpose not to flip her over and enter her hard. He had promised the blonde he would abide by her orders and she was racking chaos with his body.

She spit out the ice and sat on Michael’s foot, allowing his elegant big toe to enter her sex. She continued sucking his shaft hard, his balls being manipulated and the skin of his ass being sensitized with licks from her very wet and still cold tongue. She took her other hand and to his great surprise, she started touching her hard pebble of ardor. And he could see it all from the front with his eyes and from the back through the mirror.

He had not seen a more incredible sight, her ass softly lifting and falling as his toe fucked the very wet center. She was stimulating her clit and her mouth sucking his dick deep down in her throat. And of course her magical fingers creating havoc with his balls and his ass. He then looked over and saw the porno star being sucked by a woman while a man fucked her ass and Michael whispered “Kita I have to cum.”

He felt her stop the movement with his toe and he tumbled over the abysm of release taking the woman who inhabited his dreams over the edge with him, her insides massaging Michael’s toe. He pulled the ties from his hands and threw her back entering her quickly and bringing both of them again to cataclysmic release within a matter of minutes.

They laid engulfed in each other watching as the buxom actress on the tube paid back her lovers with the same fervor that they had served her. You could hear the woman’s ragged breath and Michael took Nikita’s clit in his gifted fingers and brought her a release of her own as Michael sucked hard on her very sensitive breasts, biting tugging, rough with the nipples above and the nub below. Nikita came again swearing for the intensity of her climax as Michael’s mouth also conquered her clit.

They caught their breaths and Michael asked silently for Nikita to let him fuck her one more time. This time it was in a missionary position, not much preparation, just quiet understanding that the time was drawing near. When he came he called her “Mon coeur”.

Michael stood up and went to the bathroom, taking a quick shower, making sure not to wet his head. He had to take the smell of his sex and his woman away. And in the shower Michael cried for the state his life was in.

When he came out Nikita was wearing her sweater coat and nothing else. She had picked up and was sitting watching reruns of Mr. Ed in French. She smiled at Michael and gave him her brush and he quietly thanked her and said. “I’ll be back tomorrow around 10:00 and will take you back to Paris.”

“Not necessary Michael, I can take the train back, will find out at what time it leaves…It is better this way Michael, be with your son, we get called in enough…I’ll see you in a couple of days? She was keeping a stiff upper lip and Michael appreciated the gesture.

“OK…Kita, thank you for the book…I’ll treasure it always.” And softly kissed her mouth while they both stood by the door.

“Michael - show it to Elena, tell her I gave it to you as if it was from her.” Nikita said, he nodded and told her to lock the door, and so Michael left.

Nikita sat in her room, nursing a can of warm Coke and wept.

Jurgen, Gray but a memory. Simone, Elena, Rene Dion. Chuck, Lisa, all forgotten having served their purpose…the good of the many. Alone again - naturally.

///

Michael saw her walk pass his window and quickly got up to close the blinds. Three days before they had been wrapped in each other and he already missed her. He knew what had to be done to insure they had a couple of minutes of solitude, maybe even a ‘moment.’ So he quickly reached for his drawer and disarmed the surveillance.

“Michael?” Nikita wearing a black suit, short skirt and white blouse spoke from the door.

“What is it, I’m busy” Hoping the last moments of surveillance or someone lingering in the hall outside his office, would catch his stern response to his underling.

This answer was the standard and Nikita walked up to the handsome man after locking the door. She noticed there was a bit of skin showing over the short v neck sweater Michael was wearing. She thought there could not be a more beautiful man in the world, he had perched his taut butt on the corner of the desk.

“Mmmm” she said licking his neck and moving to kiss his awaiting lips. “Hi.”

“Hi” he said and perched her between his legs. “I’ve missed you.”

“Michael…” as he stroked his hand up her legs, lingering on her ass, under her skirt, to find the thong underwear she was almost wearing.

“Kita, do you want me to completely loose my concentration…I am going to be distracted all day long with the mental picture you have given me…” All this while he was thoroughly devouring her mouth, her ear, her tongue with his. He was hard as a rock and she laughed as he swiped her clit, ever so gently and she squeezed his vulnerable rod. His strokes became more intense.

She said, “Aghhh Michael.” As she came unto his talented digits.

He suggested, “Ten minutes - Level 23.” And pulling down her skirt and giving her a last kiss before the surveillance block deactivated, he left his office buttoning his jacket

Nikita took a deep breath and heard Birkoff through the intercom “Michael Madelyn wants to see you now.”

“Birkoff he is not here.” Nikita husky sex filled voice.

“That’s ok Nikita he is here, Madelyn wants to see you also.” Birkoff told her.

“On my way.” She met up with Michael outside Madelyn’s hall.

“After this, Level 23.” Michael surprisingly whispered and more surprisingly winked and smiled.

She turned to the bathroom letting Michael enter the spider web first.

“Nikita come in, I was just telling Michael how you called me and relayed your innocent meeting with him and his mission.” Madelyn evilly continued. “I am sure that you would have never seeked him out, right?”

Nikita as rebellious as ever, “Madelyn, I don’t care what you believe or not, I told you what happened. I think we can use this to promote whatever Michael’s mission is. His wife believes we are related, and ...she called my cell phone this morning to have dinner with me.”

Michael was surprised by this but of course didn’t let it show. Through osmosis, by the legs that softly brushed against each other, Nikita made him realize this is what she had wanted to tell him when she had gone in to see him. So he had been right…”He couldn’t allow her to become his weakness.”

“I want you to go to dinner with ‘the Samuelles’ and tell Elena how you are going to be staying for a month doing whatever you told her you did. Then Michael you are to convince your wife that your cousin should stay with you.” Madelyn smiling added. “Michael - set it up, profile it.”

“Of course.” Michael’s anger under control, his stone face tight, realized the meeting was over.

When the door swooshed closed Michael’s anger manifested itself, he pulled Nikita, dragging her to an elevator and out to van egress where they got in one of Section’s car and drove off. He was furious, but instead of screaming while standing at a light he reached over and kissed the blonde. She let out a sigh and a sob.

“I hate Madelyn - bitch. I don’t want you in the middle of this…pain. You were right, this farce is…”

Nikita interrupted. “Michael, just like you I have a job to do. You can’t protect me in the field, in the bedroom, in life. I am a big girl…you trained me Michael…” she was quite mature “and to tell you the truth…there is something about Elena I just don’t know…no one is that naïve.”

“Kita, ok…you…I…I can’t do this anymore, I have Adam to worry about, and now you. I think I am going to call George.” Michael said, more as a thought than a statement.

“Michael, what the hell is this about…No you will not call George. No you will not abandon the mission and no you don’t have to worry about Adam alone. It is ok to care about me, heck I fear for you all the time. But I deeply care about Adam also, your son Michael…is my son too.” She reached over and kissed him on the cheek, he pulled over to a strip mall parking lot.

The couple sat inside the tinted window vehicle with total desperation. The bucket seats turned to face the back seats and Michael having locked the doors turned as Nikita moved his seat so she could kneel in front of him. She let go of his lips and took hold with her teeth of the zipper that suddenly felt as though it was going to pop open.

“Kita…” Michael whispered with tears in his eyes and desperation in his loins. “I need you.”

Nikita was focused, she unzipped his pants and tugged at them until Michael’s dick was easily accessible. She then proceeded to hold his manhood in her expert hands and move it up and down and kiss the tip oh so tenderly. When she felt his sweet pre-cum make a miraculous appearance, she moved up and sat on his lap, facing the man whose head lolled back.

She was in control, he was gladly allowing it and he watched mesmerized as she inserted his enormous pole into her incredible soft, pliable, wet womanhood. She moved relentlessly, slowly and thoroughly making sure that every wall, every fold, every contour was in contact with this man she adored. She was somehow rubbing her sex nub against his zipper and was hovering in a constant climax, their foreheads resting against each other. Nikita felt she would faint from the intensity and the length of her climax.

“Oh God…I’m coming Kita.” His hands digging into her gluts. The force of his cum made Nikita fall over the cliff of passion. He held her, his strong arms wrapped around her as she rested her head on his shoulder and he felt the tremors of her center around his. He was whispering soft French sentences and allowing her to kiss his neck with devotion.

“Don’t start anything we can’t finish Kita. Let’s talk about this…mess.” He said, kissing the tip of her nose.

///

The first visit with Elena was not that difficult, because they were in a restaurant and the wife kept talking about the City and how much she loved coming here. She was positively annoying, or was this Nikita’s take on the woman Michael went home to every night? Michael who had been suffering all night, when Elena went to the powder room, assured Nikita in a whisper that all she needed to do was say the word and he would put an end to this incredibly painful experience.

Elena of her own accord asked Nikita if she wanted to stay with them for the month she was going to be spending in France. Michael was somehow relieved because that meant Nikita would not be going out on any dangerous missions. But mostly because she would be spending time with his son and with him… Even Michael could pretend and hope.

Also it was Nikita’s job to keep Elena and Adam safe. Michael was concerned that Ops and Maddy would try to hurt Elena or Adam in order to get Vacek to come out. These two never learned did they?

The actual three weeks Nikita spent in the Samuelle household proved to be very profitable. Since they were so focused in their work and Michael was not too affectionate with his wife, Nikita was able to deal with the situation. Michael on the other hand, knowing that the end was near was a nervous wreck, although you wouldn’t have known it for the front he put on. He was glad Nikita was there to help him through it.

She had convinced Elena to contact her father, Adam shouldn’t grow up without knowing his only living relative. Elena seemed to have, after first fighting it, agreed with the ‘Cousin’ and tried to contact her father, no response from him yet. Michael and Nikita not once crossing the line and allowing the feelings they held for each other to interfere with the ‘happy home life’.

The end came soon enough. Michael, Nikita and Elena sat in the den chatting. Elena all over Michael, Nikita lying on the floor in front of the fire and Michael wound up like a top - wife and love in the safe room, not conducive to relaxation. Elena went up to put the baby down after feeding him and all of a sudden Vacek appeared through the opened French doors. He thought Nikita was his daughter and started to nervously explain why he had stayed away so long.

Before Nikita or Michael could react properly, a lone gunman came into the house and shot Michael and his father-in-law. Elena walked into the room as the hit man ran out through the back…she let out a scream and passed out cold. Section rushed into the house after Nikita had secured the house and made sure Elena was out by injecting her with a drug. Both Michael and Nikita could hear Birkoff screaming orders and coordinates in their com links. When the area was sanitized and Michael and the dead Vacek removed Elena was brought back.

The police, all Section operatives, came to investigate the murders. It had been a quiet war with Vacek's security team - all 12 of them - killed around the perimeter of Michael and Elena’s home - housekeeping quickly on site. The authorities had assured a hysterical Elena that they were there to get to the bottom of this horrendous massacre.

Nikita had told Elena she would deal with the authorities since Elena was understandably emotionally wrought. She asked the blonde to also deal with the funeral, Michael had asked to be cremated - the same could be done for her Sallah after the authorities finished with the bodies. A simple mass would be given in the hospital chapel.

Nikita had insisted Elena be taken to a hospital. The brunettes asthma exacerbated by the terror of the moment. The neighbors took Adam until Elena or Nikita returned. Nikita ordered guards posted to the perimeter to insure Adam’s safety.

Birkoff told the blonde when she arrived at home, Elena had never made it to the hospital. The EMS vehicles no where to be found. She sat by her kitchen counter drinking red wine and crying her eyes out.

Several hours had passed. Nikita sat in the same position cradling the wineglass and the phone. Her heart took flight as she heard a key to her front door. Michael had come to her in his hour of need. She didn’t move, she couldn’t.

He walked in taking Nikita’s fragile breath away. Michael was a site to behold, a magnificent creature immersed in anguish. His soulful eyes hauntingly gray. His copper hair in elegant disarray framing the grievous face. His long black coat, his gloved elegant hands as perfect wrapping to the sorrowful package. He was imposing in his extraordinary way and Nikita let out a gasp as he quietly lay his keys on the counter and walked over to the overwhelmed blonde.

She could hear soulful music playing as the man approached her. The words of ‘Is Jesus Your Pal’ reverberated in her ears. Michael was an angel who had suddenly lost his way - ‘Come and Sit on my Box…’

Michael knelt on the floor hugging her waist and laying his face on her lap. His sobs reverberating in the silent apartment. She lay her hands on his head, fingers caressing his magnificent hair and she too cried. Not a word spoken, she knew tonight he had lost his soul in one swift moment.

A knock came to the door. “Popsicle open up, I need your help.”

Mick Schtoppel Nikita’s neighbor was the king of bad timing. She didn’t want to move; she didn’t want to stop Michael’s moment. But Michael went to open the door. Nikita feared for Mick, God only knew what Michael was thinking.

“Hello Michael” Mick said anguish displayed also in his face. “You both have to come with me.”

Nikita cringed, “I understand” Michael said and turned extending a hand to Nikita. She didn’t ask a question, just followed and obeyed.

After a long drive, an even longer plane ride and another car ride, the trio came to the compound Nikita knew as Center/Oversight. She had slept perhaps because of the boredom of the trip. Her hands had been in contact with her beloved Michael the entire time, she was afraid to let go. Not a word had been spoken.

It was obviously clear to Nikita now that the buffoon she knew as Mick was a very trusted and efficient Center operative that had been placed near the blonde for a bit of protection. She watched the care and respect the man had for Michael and she remembered when Michael shot at him during the Gray missions She smiled as she remembered how Michael had thrown him out of the moving limo during Terry’s pregnancy face. To think she had credited Michael with the paternity.

“Michael bravo.” George said as he approached the grief stricken man.

Michael whose deportment had not changed in the 24 hours since the debacle was stoically looking at nothing in particular. He had not slept, he had not shaved, he had not changed clothes, he had not eaten and he had basically given up. “Thank you” an always-polite Michael whispered.

George smiled at him and said, “Do you think either Adrian or I would abandoned you Michael? Last time it was really IDS. You are our son, don’t forget that.”

As if by magic a little sleepy voice said “Daddy.” It was little Adam; the neighbors had been Oversight Operatives, had always been there to watch over Michael and Adam. Michael was reborn in that instant. ‘I thought I lost you’ - he seemed to be repeating one more time.

////

The baby had not been privy to the war that was waged to kill his grandfather. Operations and Madelyn were advised Adam died in the mayhem that ensued. Elena…well Elena was a surprise of great magnitude.

The two Section heads were reprimanded for propelling the end of the mission with their hidden agenda. Especially when it was learned that it was actually Red Cell’s plan all along to have Section get rid of Sallah for them. Michael had been right - someone, in this case his mission wife, picked up the baton. Nikita had been right…no one is that naïve.

Elena was not who she said and she never returned to the house to retrieve her son. Red Cell had intercepted the EMS vehicles and after killing everyone removed the ‘grieving widow.’ So now Elena and her ‘Uncle’ - a man who she planned the coup d'état with, ran Red Cell and each other’s life.

Adam continued living in the compound completely shielded from the anti-terrorist activities. Nikita continued her ‘Mole’ work with Mick as her courier. Michael continued his work, which had become more difficult now after Ops and Maddy had become completely obsessed with getting rid of George and keeping Michael and Nikita apart.

Somehow the water always comes to its proper level. Michael no longer held the ‘get out of jail free card’ that had been his deep blood cover. However he did have Nikita as his ‘one hotel on Boardwalk.’ And the Section started down yet another strange and intrigued filled path.

George, angry because of the actions against Adrian was mounting a campaign to drive the Siamese twins out of Section. In turn the twins, Operations basically following the mandates of his mad lovely assistant, left the track and entered weirdo-world. Case in point the Agent George sent from Four, not to mention Hillinger and Quinn versus the catastrophe of a mission in the small Tennessee town or the mission with extremely green teen-age recruits coordinated by the Siamese Twins.

No one at this point cared who did what to whom. No one realized that with all this backbiting the only ones that could be winning were the terrorists. Thank Goodness for the watchful eye and clever moves of Michael and Nikita. Adrian could always count on the cool head of her ‘son.’

To disarm Nikita, whose numbers were as always up, Madelyn started attacking Walter and Birkoff - but Michael was the vestige of control. Michael cleverly hid Birkoff and Belinda taking them to Center. Jason, a stronger, better trained operative replaced Birkoff and Walter was advised that Belinda was alive.

To make matters worse Michael had to also deal with Madelyn’s love for her Red Cell counterpart and had to deal with Operations temporary insanity. So these incidents were drug induced, who cared - they were extemporaneous missions that should have not been taking place. And Michael continued to keep all the balls in the air, never dropping one.

Michael had hoped those two particular missions had shown Operations how loyal he was. Perhaps the missions could have helped Michael save the Section heads’ asses - for the Committee was getting pretty sick of Maddy and Ops. It was a pity they could not see the forest for the trees. Who was to tell Michael Maddy would up the ante so.

/////////////////////

Michael and Nikita started a more or less open consanguinity ‘We are together now.’ - ‘If you want to be.’ - ‘I want to be.’

Of course Madelyn with her ingrained jealousy for Michael’s affection and Operations with his desire to please Madelyn, made the lover’s relationship hard to maintain. But the bonds were indestructible, so Madelyn had a problem - what to do. ‘Let’s go home.’

Michael did not want Nikita hurt, he wanted to make sure his beloved ‘Kita’ was out of harms way. Michael knew that Section would continue to concentrate all their efforts in stopping their love…at least Madelyn would (and let’s face it - she wore the pants, although he wore that God awful white ‘do).

Nikita was shaken to the core by the intensity of Michael’s love for her. She did try to make Michael see how difficult it was to love each other in the open at this time - Michael had been demoted - but there was no convincing Michael. - ‘When you lead we live’.

Michael had woken Nikita up - “We’re getting out. Get dressed.” She thought she was dreaming, wasn’t this what she had wanted to hear from the man for so long? She put on a pair of jeans, a sweater and a pair of short boots. He was standing by the refrigerator getting a bottle of water when he heard her start down the stairs.

“What’s going on Michael?” she asked and went to approach him.

He said, “Let’s go for a drive.” He needed her to trust him, she didn’t argue this time - hell Michael was getting out with her - who cared if it was for a short time.

They rode in the truck not dressed in their mission gear. She drove, he played with the tool that would help set them free - a Field Router. Michael said he wanted her with him, she knew this remark was heartfelt and not mission related. - ‘I don’t need you - I want you’.

Finally after running, hiding, thumbing rides Michael thanked the truck driver who had taken them in the final leg of this particular journey. In his sexual breathless French he explained to his Nikita the truth of the mission they were on, as they started down the little dirt road. Nikita’s French continuing to improve and Michael trying to speak to her in his native tongue whenever possible. Or was that - use his native tongue…who knew…

She laughed as she heard Michael tell her that it seemed that yet another high ranking Section Op, not as good looking as Michael of course, had decided to go into business for himself. Ops had pretended to promote him over Michael and the handsome op feigned anger - and now it was time to pretend, so they’d hit the road.

They approached an old stone and wood edifice and Michael proceeded to open the great big heavy window shutters. Nikita slipped in the snow mostly because of the nervous hesitation the whole setting was instilling in her. He held her up - steadfast Michael.

When they entered the house Michael had not said a word in a while. He was giddy, well as giddy as Michael got, with the prospect of Nikita in his home. This was a place Michael had found while doing aerial recognizance and he bought it because it was far from anyone else. Nikita gingerly and nosily walked around the small space while Michael prepared the house. - ‘What the hell was a hectare.’

He started dinner and built a fire, Nikita checked out the black SUV in the garage and thumbed through the long-playing record collection. Dinner went well, conversation abounded and the lovers settled into a familial pace. The notes of a wonderful French slow ballad playing in the background and Nikita complained to Michael of a broken latch letting in a draft. He smiled and asked her to dance.

‘Le chanson d’el poette…La pluie tomb aujord’uie…” Nikita smiled as she heard him sing to her. Michael’s timbre was more than enchanting…but when he spoke in French, or mispronounced a word - it was as if he was putting his index finger in his mouth and then stroking her like one of his cello strings. Now he was singing - in tune. Her legs gave a bit.

He sat and covered her with a blanket that hung on the back of the couch. She lay her head on his lap “I’ll fix it tomorrow…the latch.” He said as he stroked her hair with a gentleness that seemed to stroke her heart instead.

Nikita thought of this magical man. He could shoot, he could kill, he could love, he could be a great father, an incredible lover, a wonderful husband, a stupendous cook, a wine connoisseur, a cello playing super hero who spoke many languages and rode motorcycles. He looked like an angel all the time. And the man was hers, she could bitch, moan, or slack, he was there no matter what. She had let him down, he never even thought about it once…He was her friend…’Voila’.

Michael and Nikita sat in the dark but for the glow of the fireplace and the flame of oil lamps and candles. It was early but the pair had started the long convoluted day… the night before and were tired - and also in love. She snuggled on his lap and kissed the thigh that held her head. He shivered and started to get up, Nikita thought she had done something wrong.

“Michael?” She asked.

“Time to go to bed.” He said, his voice husky and low. “Come Kita” as he finished throwing more wood on the fire and handing her a candle as he started up to the loft. She remembered his talk with Sarah - how the innocent woman had extracted information about his love. Nikita, after Madelyn had turned of the feed and left the area, had forced Birkoff to allow her to listen in.

“You remind me of her.” He had said to the woman. “ For she too has an innocence, a joie de vie, a je ne c’est quoi.” He added. “She is a beautiful woman both inside and out.” Michael’s voice was virile and Nikita heard a smile in his voice.

“…I wake up in the morning feeling for the silkiness of her hair and the warmth of her skin as part of mine. The sun rises on her head…she is light. I remember all day her perceptive smile, her warmth and her soft lips that tempt me like no others.” He paused and laughed, “How poetic…non? She makes me like this - a bumbling fool.” He said shyly and Sarah encouraged him on.

“The scent of her perfume permeates my soul. She makes me forget who I am, what I’ve done, were I’ve been. She holds my heart in her chest as though it was Murano glass. I can’t breathe when I miss her; I can’t live when I’m not with her; I can’t bear to not see her. I am everything because she is mine. I am truly in love.”

They reached the top of the stairs with their candles held high. Heat rises and Nikita found it toasty in the loft - or was it the heat of the moment that gave her that warmth? The room sparse but for a bed, a dresser and a door.

One lover went to the left side of the iron bed, the other to the right. They exchanged meaningful words and amusingly shy barbs. Removing their shoes they met in the center of the bed with a fierce embrace and a warming kiss.

Michael smiled and stroked the beauty’s eyebrow. She picked up her head and softly kissed the mouth of the man that lay above her. She smooched his hand and placed it under her sweater, he smiled and nodded and started the sensual dance of two people in love.

The pace was being set by the cold winter’s night, by the glow of the fire, by the intensity of Michael’s arousal and of Nikita’s drenched essence. Michael asked his woman to allow him to thoroughly love her before he needed to loose himself. His climax always better when she was a heap of molten lava…heating his arrival and branding his release

The kisses soft like caresses. The tongues wet like streams. The arms embracing, stroking, holding - needing, giving, wanting, receiving. They amazed themselves with all the new things they found out about each in every expedition into each other’s flesh.

Michael moved swiftly over her body. Again aware that he needed to fulfill her every need to be able to then concentrate on achieving his culmination. She was floating and he smiled as he sucked like a baby at Nikita’s perfect breasts.

He was tugging on her nipples with his lips covering his teeth. He was then licking and blowing on the very erect areola. The combination of Michael’s tongue, breath and the cold air in the room achieving the desired reaction. She was truly overwhelmed and the sounds she was making demonstrated this. He was not allowing her to touch him or herself, his body making sure she was immobile.

A genuine whimper from her, a grunt from him as she wiggled her core and rubbed against Michael’s rod. He was hard and big, ready for his turn, but patiently waiting for the precise moment when the release would be so much more. This dance went on for quite a while until he could hold back no more. Her plaintiff cries requiring his attention.

And they came many times, their releases increasing in perfection with each turn. He was Robin Hood. He took from the rich center of her core and gave to the poor hardness that would make him follow this woman to the vowels of hell. And then they slept soundly warmed by the heat of their love.

The morning found Nikita alone - a note and hot tea all she found. Michael was captured in town and taken into Section by Zalman and his lot. Everything went as planned and again Michael and Nikita saved the Section as was their job.

Other missions, more wasted resources and then…Madelyn stroke with the evil Gellman process…’I’m straight’ Nikita had smiled, probably for the last time in a while. ‘I don’t love you.’ And ‘What have they done to me.’

But not Madelyn, not Gellman, nor Section or life was going to rob Michael of his beloved Nikita. Hell he had not yet found a way for them to be together. It was time to get Adrian to pay back Michael - and the gardener did - she came out of her imposed retirement taking care of Adam and revealed to Madelyn that she should have killed “Mother after all.”

The place were they finally consummated their love was strange, but the adoration and understanding and devotion they employed demonstrated a perfection in uniting their souls. ‘Because I can’t live without you.’ And when it all came together, when the miracle happened, when Nikita returned to their fold, Michael knew that a battle had been won, not the war.

Madelyn would not give up easily. Madelyn would come back with more. But they thought Michael had Adrian - he regained the ‘Get out of jail for free card’ and ‘built one more hotel on the Boardwalk.’

“You know Michael - I knew I should love you, I knew that you loved me, no matter what she said….I heard her say the process never worked right with me, I wonder why.”

“Michael…” Nikita once more fell into his loving arms. She whispered how dreams of him confused her and sustained her, all the same, during the Gellman process. He made sweet love to the woman he called his own.

When Paul tried to get his Madelyn ‘fix’, she told him how unhappy she was because of her failure during the whole Nikita/Gelman/Adrian process. Paul, who had completely become Madelyn’s puppet, suggested the Helmut Volkner episode - which was the beginning of an unconquerable drama especially for Michael.

‘Where are you staying?” - “Are you asking me to move in with you?” - “Heroin Helmut.” - “Beginner’s luck.” Michael looked so yummy as the possessive, strong, drug dealer, in love Freddy. His leather clad thighs, his sweater clad chest, his quirky smile, his gait, his gaze, his strut…Ahh Michael and when he told that boob that the only thing he sold were drugs…AHHHH Michael.

He stood by the chain link fence watching the jet take off. His fear was not that she could not take care of herself. His fear was the talk they’d had in the church. Did Nikita understand that she needed to shield her heart, that this was just a mission that was all? Did Nikita realize that sex with a mark was just sex that was all?

Did Nikita understand that Michael never stopped loving her? Michael was concerned, for the first time in a long time he doubted himself, he worried and he had misgivings. So he went to see his son.

Adam had grown a lot. Once a month or more often Michael came to spend time with his boy, Nikita always with him. The boy would regale them with stories of all sorts; he had learned to speak and walk and he did it all non-stop. Father and son now sat on the floor of the boys room and he asked “Were is Mamman?”

Michael’s eyes filled with tears. Nikita would have loved to know that the boy asked for her. She would probably be mad at him for having come without her. Adrian made her presence known.

“Michael want to talk about it?” Adrian asked.

“For the first time Adrian I am afraid…what if I loose her?” He mumbled.

“For heaven’s sake Michael, she loves you…do you think she is going to fall for this man?” Adrian answered. George joined them, patting the boy on the head.

“Michael - she is a good operative, she knows what to do, she is not as vulnerable as you think she is.” George added, Michael nodded his head.

He stood in the room in his quiet way. Nikita turned and saw him…she ran to embrace Michael and she begged for Helmut’s fate. Michael didn’t misunderstand the situation. This was Nikita, the one that fought for Jurgen, for Vizcano, for Sarah, for all…it wasn’t love for this other man, it was her intrinsic compassion. Michael nodded his head and when the time came - seeing her wounded - he let Helmut go.

Another battle, but yet not the war. They were laughing, walking into Nikita’s apartment - now their home, Michael pushing her against the closet door kissing her mouth plainly, fully, tongues dancing…when - Operations made his presence known.

‘The Knights of the Realm’. Somehow when Michael and Nikita saw Paul in this position, they saw the Operations they had first known. - A man that had a soul, honor, duty and loyalty. They saw the horrors of the Vietnam War, the horrors of a betrayed man, the horrors of the destruction of a good man - all reflected in this Paul.

Michael, in a silent agreement with Nikita, in the dingy apartment, with the dead Veteran on the beer bottle covered floor, told Operations what he really thought; what Operations really needed to know. Madelyn was destroying him, ending his career and compromising his honor by confusing his duty.

Paul, they both knew, was obeisance personified. A man who not having committed any crimes of any kind, had dutifully and heroically honored a commitment that would take him down the path of loneliness, sorrow…And as if Michael, Nikita and the cadaver had resided to the background - Operations or better yet Paul was reborn. ‘That is cold even for you Madelyn.’

//////////

Madelyn paced the floor of her new office. Since the original Section had been blown up by Operations in an attempt to thwart a Dark Moon advance, everyone at Section had been a bit ‘out of mind’. Oh yes she thought recalling a particular nefarious interrogating device which had been left behind ‘I remember Paris’ she whispered to herself. Her orchids thrived in this light, perhaps she should start growing Venus flytraps - suited her personality better.

‘Into the looking glass’ she gazed and thought that at times she felt as though she was ‘slipping into darkness’ or ‘sleeping with the enemy’ she did not know which. Her life had taken a trip ‘down a crooked path’ and she was not going to sit around and play with ‘toys in the basement’. Madelyn always looked up and beyond.

She complained to Paul, making promises as she plotted against Nikita and Michael’s love. Ops was acting quite strange lately and sending her on missions was the last straw. Her first mission - a trade with Dark Moon where they exchanged their best profiler Satin for Madelyn. The exchange made, Satin melted when she saw Michael her ‘hero’.

Paul was in his lair, safely tucked in there, like a spider in his web. He was troubled; although Madelyn had become his Achilles heel, she also was his muse, his inspiration, and he had hoped his destiny. He smiled as he watched her walk in, all covered in soot and dust, her piercing dark eyes looked up as a depraved smile spread on her face. She was telling him ‘hit me with your best shot’; mission accomplished - he would have not expected less.

So Paul, the new Paul, decided to trust someone, anyone; he took a step he would have never dreamt of taking - he called Mr. Jones at Oversight. A meet was set, he was to bring Michael and Nikita as his security detail. He found that odd but he succumbed knowing what was good for him. The meet was at an al fresco café in the heart of Paris - that put the shrew military man at ease - hide in plain sight.

Nikita and Michael, all dressed in black sunglasses and more, looked at each other while they sat in a small metal table at the back of the café; Paul at a different table. Nikita thought that it was ‘time to be heroes’. Michael by osmosis was willing her to behave, be circumspect, still and vigilant - a female Michael; all power and presence.

George turned the corner, his security team dressed in pewter color garb stood beside him. Paul frowned, nodded his head and allowed the man to sit. “George?” He asked instead of stating.

“Paul, I am sure you are wondering what I am doing here. I am the designated contact, Mr. Jones sends me, what can we do for you?” George sternly advised.

“George you would not have been my choice, however…I need to speak with someone.” Paul almost whispered.

A surprising development occurred as George always-felt respect for this man, now turned into a bit of compassion. He had known a younger Paul when they dragged him out of a bamboo cage at the Hanoi Hilton - he never gave up. He wouldn’t leave his men behind and he had proved this with Willie. 30 years after the war ended Paul had still taken care of his last soldier, until Walter Oversight’s designated watcher, had decided that enough was enough.

“You have Adrian…you love her and defend her - no matter what.” Paul looked back at the stoic black clad couple. “I have sacrificed Stephen, Corrine - I can’t sacrifice Madelyn…I don’t know what to do. I can’t go on like this, she needs to be rained in, but I can’t face loosing her…” He was leaning in, pouring his heart out, “she has become my weakness…she is out of control.”

“Perhaps it is not so bad to be vulnerable. Perhaps she is not your weakness - but your major strength. Perhaps a closeness between operatives - look at Michael and Nikita - is not such a bad thing.” Paul’s blue eyes changed shade, subtly but George saw it. “Oh yes, we know, but never mind that…look at their numbers, look at their commitment towards Section, towards each other, towards all the operatives who work under them. What do you want Paul our blessing? Or is it that once more Paul does not want to leave his ‘men’ behind.” George finished.

“No…yes your blessing and your help. What do I do with Madelyn - she is constantly obsessing over the most inane things. I think perhaps…” Paul stopped suddenly.

“Do you think a modification of sorts would help?” Nikita horrified at the prospect looked at Michael - he quickly grabbed her hand under the table, as if telling her to trust him to correct whatever became askew.

“The Gelman process didn’t work with Adrian…err or that woman, it didn’t work with Nikita and I don’t think that it is what Madelyn needs anyway.” Paul added.

“Nikita.” George called her over. “You too Michael.” They joined them at the table.

“Nikita - I am going to put you in charge of this. Madelyn is out of control - Paul tells us, as if we didn’t already know.” George said. “I want you to personally profile this, I want you to modify Madelyn, taking away her detrimental characteristics, the ones that made her kill her sister. But keeping the ones that made Paul care for her. Michael will help you, but not interfere.”

“This is good. Nikita’s biggest problem has been being too empathic.” Paul added.

“May I?” Nikita said. “I wouldn’t…”

“Nikita, you are probably the most indicated operative for this…I insist.” Paul said.

“But Madelyn and I have not gotten along.” She said. “Perhaps it would look like revenge on my part.”

Michael spoke, his soft caressing lilting accent bringing the proceedings to a head. “Ni-ki-ta, remember a couple of years ago she came to you…she wanted to remember…Let her be well again, through your lead and your caring hand.”

She thought for a moment, the wheels in her mind could be seen - turning. “OK. How long do I have?” Nikita was feeling kind of proud that these men would entrust her with this intimidating task.

It came to pass that Nikita’s preliminary wafting soon changed. Madelyn assigned her the mission of pretending to be Carl’s fiancé. The sinister sadistic weapons and drug dealer had been released to Nikita’s care after a drug induced personality change…erasing and adding memories. Nikita, was having her own mind altered - Madelyn had added a reprogramming tool she was developing with the use of Michael’s DNA.

“Walter I don’t know what is wrong with me…this man, this Carl, he is everything I despise in a man…and I feel I am falling in love with him.” She was crying. “I almost slept with him.”

Michael happened to be walking by Walter’s area when he heard Nikita speak. He stood still as anger swelled up in him. He walked in, handed Nikita the disk with the latest intel and the upkeep medication and imperturbably started to walk out.

“Michael” Nikita called out “Carl is in a lot of pain, can we get him some pain meds?” She couldn’t believe she was asking this.

“I don’t care about his pain Nikita.” He turned and left and threw over his shoulder “Neither should you.”

Walter saw the interchange, saw Nikita’s anguish and saw Michael’s pain. “Sugar, give me that disk.” He put it under a lamp, a microscope and found the culprit. “Aha looky here.”

They both stood looking at the screen, Nikita at first couldn’t see anything, then as Walter explained she saw Carl morph into Michael. Without saying a word Nikita left munitions. Storming into Madelyn’s office she found Michael very pissed off.

“How dare you Madelyn. How far are you going to carry…” The blonde screamed.

Michael interrupted. “Ni-ki-ta.”

Nikita slapped him hard, leaving her handprint in his magnificent cheek. “Don’t you ever get tired of being their errand boy?” And she stormed out.

Michael caught up with Nikita an hour later. He had been looking for her, she was not answering her phone and he found her in his close quarters lying on his bed, lights off. “Kita are you in here.” He called out knowing the answer.

“Go away Michael.” She whimpered.

“Kita, I had nothing to do with this…how could you think that I would want you to care for any other man, never mind a sleaze like Carl?” He said approaching her laying body and caressing her back. “Are you going to fix Madelyn now - Kita she is like the broken doll she took from her sister.” Michael finished kissing her on the lips, the forehead and her head. “I thought we were past this, I thought you trusted me?”

“Michael” she laid her head on his lap, “ I am sorry…I do trust you.”

So, Nikita’s profile, with Michael’s help, had Madelyn sent on a mission to a State Mental Hospital were she got electric shock treatment - “Michael get me out of here. Michael get me out of here.” When she successfully completed the mission, a virtual mind scraping process was introduced and Madelyn became the woman she should have been. Madelyn had come ‘up the rabbit hole.’

//////////

From Punta de Isla airfield, the transfer allowed them to appreciate the more than 300 meters high volcanic step rocks, which reached up to the island’s unique village. But they were not there to visit the village. The island of Robinson Crusoe hid in a magnificent cove a sailing yacht that bobbed in the aquamarine waters of the Peruvian coast. It was to be a sanctuary, at last, for the young newlyweds. Reality would encroach on their delirium soon enough of this they were sure.

They gathered driftwood and started a fire, the early evening was getting cool. Michael and Nikita sat back to back on a blanket on the sand as he read her French poetry in his native tongue. She was drifting in a myriad of unforgettable pictures flashing at high speed through her conscious and she shivered, eliciting a kiss on her head from her man.

‘I’ve got a smile, stretched from ear to ear…” Michael sang to Nikita as they danced on the beach. Her head on his shoulder, her hands in his hair and the sound of the ocean was resonating in their souls. They held hands, walked the beach in their comfortable, very fitting fashion and laughed out of sheer joy. The sail boat on the water, the dinghy on the beach. All in all and unforgettable first night of their honeymoon.

They made languid rich love, the type of lovemaking that has sex as a secondary objective, because it is enough to be one. They cuddled, spoke of love, kissed, and held each other no longer with the fear of letting go. And when their union had turned cold because of the time of the year and the time of the night, they boarded their dinghy and went back to their yacht.

The lovers had spent a couple of weeks in Dingman’s Hallow where they had made love in every possible position and in every possible local. It was great to be truly outside of the constant scrutinizing eye of Section. Since this had been their second visit, to set up the mission down there, their stay had been less harried. They had truly enjoyed their time since they had also shared it with Adam.

Now the couple made love in the berth of their yacht. Although not as spacious as their bed at home they had made the best of this coupling. Nikita sat with her back to the wall, legs crossed before her, Michael opposite her, same position, his hands instantly going to caress the perky breast that begged to be touched.

Nikita had laughed at Michael’s remark that they were doing it like frogs, she had remarked “Ribbit, ribbit.” She loved this playful Michael. He had put his head to her chest and caressed her back telling her in quiet susurrus that he loved her and needed to take care of her. She had acquiesced and allowed her hands to travel the length of his manhood before gripping it with a firm fist and manipulating it to his absolute enjoyment.

Their love-making again slow and carefree. They realized they had all the time in the world to enjoy their coupling. They came together when Michael picked her up, still facing her, legs still in the same position and mounted her into his spiraling discharge. She was gasping with the sheer luxury of the feelings being released like doves in an act of freedom. Her clitoris being rubbed incessantly by the talented and devoted fingers of her husband, making her scream with a climax that rocked their world.

She moved jerkily on his rod and the friction ignited a cataclysmic eruption of desire and lust, which only added to prolong the lovemaking. But the intensity of the climax had suddenly added a sense of desperation to the act. The couple ominously touched breasts, kissed nipples, bit ears and chins and kept caressing contact constantly with their over sensitized skin and sexual organs. Elysian fields, perfection and a shuttering climax achieved various times during the night.

After a particularly trying fourth season of their love, Michael and Nikita had decided to regroup, look at their lives, get married, and try to be normal. Their rabid fans, as Walter called their optimistic and always present devoted team, had mounted an unprecedented campaign to ‘keep Michael and Nikita.” These all encompassing group of skilful, clever, sharp and exquisite people wanted the magnificent couple to be able to live forever in their hearts and thrive doing what they did best…making this make-believe world a better place where a hopelessly romantic ideal could evolve and prevail.

The fan campaign was taken to the halls of power - the Committee, where they encountered the troublesome relationship the top ranking duo had met with during those four years. And with the unending dedication of the First Team and their eager operatives the fans received the news of cancellation with total apprehension and a vow to continue to protect and serve their favorite team leaders.

And so it went. Paul was sent to Center liberating Michael of the sojourn of that position and thus giving Paul what he so richly deserved. With Madelyn at his side, the very capable couple, now fixed like two dogs in heat, would run Center under the close scrutiny of George as Mr. Jones and Adrian as “Mother Dearest.” The reign of terror sent to abeyance.

Walter who had been sent to the ice, like some tired old Eskimo, was brought back with his beloved Belinda. The old couple made beautiful music together, he in his Munitions, her in Level 4 with all the children - yes even Nikita’s clone and that supernatural boy who came from 4.

Birkoff was brought back to Section 1, he married Carla (Note from Author: this is my story and I marry whomever I want), and she was expecting a little boy. Birkoff had matured remarkably well in his stint at Oversight, had developed new systems and had established a relationship with Nikita’s former neighbor. She continued serving Adrian. His brother Jason with his lovely now wife Noemi, replaced him at Oversight. Hillinger remained at Center.

Chuck, joined Mowen and Davenport as Michael’s security team. The trio having been loyal to the Super-hero was rewarded with the much-coveted posts. Chuck’s hair always looked like his mentors now. And looking around the facilities we could see so many familiar faces that the previous regime had unfairly tossed into abeyance, only to be saved and resurrected by the mighty duo of Nikita and Michael.

Section One was moved to the compound in Andorra. True that everyone loved Paris, but after the War with Red Cell and all its factions, it was decided that the compound was a more suited place to keep the operations running smoothly. The facility built underground was exactly like the one in Paris - Paul had been right, one gets destroyed and many get built.

Nikita got off at the church. She was wearing a long flowing black leather duster. Her head covered with a kerchief also of black leather. She looked like the bride of Frankenstein and laughed, knowing that underneath she wore a magnificent dress by Vera Wang. Off white, off the shoulder sheath with tiny seed pearls embroidered to the bodice. She discarded the coat and headwear on a chair by the door.

She walked through the Church’s second set of double doors, wetted her fingers in the blessed waters and made the sign of the cross, looking anxiously through the completely empty church. She significantly walked down the isle to suddenly stop when her groom Michael appeared by the altar. His tuxedo obviously made to his impressive measurements hugged his perfect body in all the right places.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked.

“I do” she answered.

Now the priest appeared and married the pair in a simple ceremony, poignant for symbolically they were alone and now one. The fans, the only guests, looked on. There was a known joy that if all-good things do come to an end…it has to be a good conclusion.

The perch somehow looked different than when Operations had inhabited it. The Section now with a sense of camaraderie ran like a happy Swiss watch. There were operatives of all kinds working sedulously around their stations. Talking a multitude of languages, sharing a multitude of skills and a wealth of information. The place was now efficient, cohesive and true, no longer a place of pure evil

Michael his emerald green eyes observing a mission unfold through his monitor content the action had gone sans casualties. At this moment his gaze was fixed on the beautiful woman he finally could call his wife and who had just entered the perch with their son Adam. He was 4 now and the boy looked like Michael but acted like Nikita.

“We’ll wait for you in the car daddy, I want to go to McDonalds and get a happy meal - they have an “Ice Age” toy that I need.” The adorable boy told his loving father.

“You need it Adam?” Nikita asked. “I don’t think you need it. Tell you what Michael we’ll go, I see you are busy, shall we bring you anything?”

“Just the two of you safe. Take the Goatee twins, don’t ditch them this time.” Michael joked with his beautiful blonde wife, referring to her habit of leaving her security team behind. He grabbed her close to his body and kissed her hard. The boy skipped out of the room from the hand of his pastel-wearing mom. “I love you” she called out not waiting for an answer.

Section was running smoothly and the missions had gone well. The most covert antiterrorist group on the planet finally had a coupling of ends and means. Michael was were he belonged, and he was happy. The fans were well served, they too were happy. They would always cherish their heroes and conjure them up whenever the need arouse. All was well in the world.

The lessons of the past not to be forgotten. Perfection does not exist, don’t stride for it. Happiness is necessary, grab what you can and go with it. Love is all you need.

The magnificent Gautier clad Operations looked down from his perch. Picking up his cell phone he dialed…”Jo-zee-fin, I love you.” All was well.