Part Three
Alternate Universe
NC-17

The beautiful couple entered an office. Gray walls, sleek stainless steel and black leather furniture adorned the interior. No art embellished the walls; just the ornate beveled glass decked the window, which let the hallway light into the spacious room. Michael walked around the desk, unbuttoned his Gautier jacket and sat on the ergonomically correct chair. He smiled at the gawking mouth blonde and nodding his head pointed to a chair.

He booted up the laptop, opened a drawer that housed a key pad, entered the necessary key strokes and crossing his hands on his laps, relaxed observing the nervous beauty sitting before him. She in turn sat on the edge of her chair, playing with the on/off switch of a modern looking lamp. On, off, on, off, on, off her teeth scraping her bottom lip, her little pink tongue sneaking out to stroke the same lip, Michael stirred.

"Kita" he softly, deeply said, eyes shuddered, "you are, stop what you are doing I can't make love to you here, it wouldn't look good. What do you want to know, go ahead ask."

"Oh God Michael," she stood and let out a sob, "there is so much." Walking around to his side.

He pulled his chair away from the desk and grabbed her hand bringing her to sit on his already encouraged lap. "Umm, come here the door is locked anyway." Smiling.

"No Michael." The blonde popped up, "I need answers, I am not going to give you a lap dance in this, what did you call it?"

He smiled again, pulled her back down on his lap and engulfed her in his arms, restraining her escape "Oversight, the Temple." He played with the shell of her ear by stroking his tongue to it. The soft pad of his fingers moving the hair away from the other ear, thus preparing it for his attention.

"Michael," Nikita stated softly, closing her eyes, rubbing her short clad skirt rump unto his very live lap. "I want to know," Her eyes closed, her head bobbed back.

"Umm", Michael mumbled, moving - rubbing his now stiff self against her soft moist one. "Shh, I have got to," he's sentence stopped by Nikita's mouth. He rolled his chair to the lonely window, pulled the blinds, closed them and the couple was left in the dark, in the moment.

As Nikita began moving her skirt up and Michael began moving his fly down, the intercom rang out, "Hey Michael, Mr. Jones is ready when you are." The distinctive voice of one of the Birkoff twins sounded around the room.

"Seymour give me half an hour, I am busy right now," Michael spoke and rendered the room incommunicado.

"Mmmykoll," Nikita protested as he entered her swiftly first ripping her thong black underwear with one move and messing up her blouse with his wet mouth to her breasts.

"You'll wear your jacket, let me, I've had this fantasy."

She interrupted not sure where her wit or voice were coming from, he was actually also rendering her taciturn from her brain by the use of his tongue. "Fantasy?"

"Mmm, uhum, since I met you, all kinds of,God Kita, move, I' m cumin." The man's mouth was devouring her now exposed breasts, his sucking almost painful and at the same time necessary. Her hips moving slowly, grinding her drenched cave into his stiff pole. His hands on her hips now controlling the movement, like one would the joystick in a Nintendo game box.

"Ni-ki-tahhhh" he said as he came, stilling her movement, her head had lolled back, her elbows on the desk steadying her body so he could have more access to her desperate breasts.

He disengaged and picking her up sat her on the desk, moving the laptop out of the way. He buried his incredible head between her legs and went at her apex with gusto. Licking, biting, sucking, loving and adoring the area that was making her let out little yelps of passion filled explosions - breath taking pleasure filling them both as her stocking clad feet fumbled with his already stiffening joystick. Her climaxes so strong around his tongue that it made him cum again wetting her feet, which he now licked, dry.

She sat back on his lap and the lovers holding each other came down. Michael kissed her temple and her brow. "Kita, no matter what makes you mad now, no matter what shocks you or upsets you, promise me you'll let me explain, I love you, marry me now."

"Now? How? Of course I'll marry you whenever you want." She answered kissing him tenderly.

He moved Nikita off his lap, and they both started arranging their clothing. He pushed a button on the laptop and said, "I need to use the Abby for a moment, do you mind?"

"I understand, will be here when you are ready." Deep French accented voice answered.

Releasing yet another button he smiled at the blonde. "Let's go get married." He closed her opened mouth and stroked her lips with the same finger he'd used on the chin. "Then we'll have that big wedding you and Grandma want."

"Uhum." Swallowing hard.

"Unless,I just can't wait, I want to be officially yours in front of God." He shyly said, his green eyes a grayish color - the shade of devotion,

That did it, she snapped out of it, hugged his neck and said "God, could you be more, perfect. Let's go."

The friary was about a kilometer away from the secret place, she could see the busy monks and nuns moving around preparing an area for a fair of sorts. Aromatic breads, pastries, cheeses and such products placed on tables for sale or consumption, children milled around as well as clergy and people wearing jeans and such.

Michael walked up to one of the priests, vowed, smiling and spoke to the man in French. The couple looked strange in their black clothes against this relaxed, typically reposed scenery. The couple walked into a stone building that looked like a tiny church. They stood with the priest in front of a statue of the Virgin Mother and of the Prince of the Universe.

The wedding was quick, more a blessing, a sanctioning that these two were husband and wife, that these two were united now, belonging to each other,'till death us do part. She was moved beyond words, he was moved beyond actions. They were teary and clung to each other; there was devotion, emotion and unprecedented love,Gwenevere and Lancelot had nothing on these two. The pump and circumstance of the big wedding would come later; this was the ceremony designed for. Nikita was now Madame Samuelle and she smiled.

///

The walk back to Oversight was full of funny repartee between the newly wed couple. Michael holding Nikita by her waist was laughing softly at the blonde's comments. Some sexual, some passionate, some funny, some serious and all loving. She told him that she needed a wedding ring and so did he. Nikita was saying she didn't want any trollop setting her claws on her husband and ',after all Michael you are quiet yummy, Mr. Hunk.'

They gained entry through a different hallway with beveled glass doors, instead of windows. Still in the hallway and as they approached a big room were a gray haired older man sat at a desk, a teen-ager wearing a bathing suit and robe called Michael's name. The couple turned to find a beautiful 14-year-old with long straight copper color hair, the gold highlights adorning her hair obviously caused by the sun. Her eyes, the color of fresh cut grass danced with merriment as her eyes locked with the handsome young man.

"Oncle Mishel je me suis ennuy de vous," She told Michael, confirming that she had missed her uncle.

Nikita turned to watch as Michael held unto the girl who had hopped and landed in his strong arms. He kissed her, laughed loudly as she said something in French and got off him running to a room and quickly coming back with a black velvet box. Smiling at Nikita she handed it to Michael. He took the blonde's hand and said. "These were my mom and dad's wedding rings. He put a ring in her finger, she put another one in his finger and they kissed, the girl said " Ahh."

"Kita, this is my niece Lisette " Michael told the blonde as the pretty girl hugged her tightly. The girl engaged Nikita in a conversation about the ring and how it matched perfectly the engagement ring, on and on as only an enthusiastic, happy 14-year-old would. "My mom was Uncle Mishel's twin sister Michelle, she died in the same car crash that killed Grandma and Simone,hated her. I think I am going to like you though."

Michael continued forward to the large room with the man at the desk. " I'll answer all your questions later Kita, I am sure you'll have a lot."

" Nikita don't let him be a mute, he has this tendency on placing that stupid mask on his handsome face and then you are shit out of luck," Michael gave the girl a dirty look.

"Michael she is right, don't you just hate." The blonde added.

"Mishel come here and look at this article on our 1998 vintage,we surpassed all expectations," The older man said in a thick French accent. "Is this Nikita?" He added removing his reading glasses and sitting back on the large comfortable chair.

"Come here my child, let me look at you." Stretching his hand to her. "Michael she is even more beautiful than you said," the man remarked as Nikita approached the other side of Michael. The young man moved a bit, giving the old man who now smiled access to his wife, Nikita realized the man was in a wheelchair.

"Ni-ki-ta, this is my paternal grandfather - here they call him Mr. Jones. His name is Gerard."

Nikita was speechless, what the hell was going on? Another side of Michael, another family? Wait hadn't Michael said his paternal grandfather was dead? A niece, a grandfather, who else was going to pop out? Did Walter and Paul know that Mr. Jones was Michael's grandfather? Did they even know about Mr. Jones? Her hands went around the old man's neck, a sweet kiss to both his cheeks and hers; confusion plainly displayed in her face.

Michael it seemed was part of the French elite. The older man and the girl showing Nikita what her husband looked like as a child and would look like as an old man. Beautiful eyes, hair, appropriate physique, even for the man on the wheelchair and an air of elegance and royalty Michael always displayed. No one acknowledged Nikita's questioning gaze, they were speaking in English about mundane stuff people who have not seen each other in a while speak about.

"The suzerainty of my family is but a tiny spec of my responsibilities Nikita. You now are a welcomed part of this, let's call it a realm. You owe us fealty, just as we owe it to you. Michael will explain, And the fidelity we owe to France, you will see, extends to the rest of the Planet, God has been tremendously providential to us. We must be complicit with Him; we owe it to our ancestry, our patrimony, our legacy and our dowry, on and on Nikita. You will see that with dreams and parvenu comes duty,Michael trusts you will shine among us,Now do you want to stay and listen to our discussion of the wine business?"

"No, I think I would like to go, Perhaps Lisette can, I am sure Michael will fill me in eventually, right? Nikita said as both men nodded their heads, Michael concerned - the old man amused.

Nikita smiled tenderly at the old man who held her hand in his surprisingly strong one. "Michael tells me you are opinionated, why so guarded, speak up child, when am I going to have another baby to ride around in my chair."

"I am not a baby, you know Nikita the chair is motorized, I ride on it all the time, right Grandpa?" Lisette said pushing Michael out of the way and hooking her hand on the blonde's elbow, "I call him that because the great-grandfather title is too stuffy," The girl pulled Nikita purposely away towards another door and the women laughed as the girl talked.

"Bienvenue a la famiglia Nikita." The old man let out, as the teen-ager remarked "Marlon Brando has nothing on him, non?" A comparison to the Godfather the blonde had thought about long before.

////

Michael came into the elegantly appointed room whistling some catchy tune, he called out to Nikita who was sitting in a balcony overlooking a resplendent view. She turned her head and stretch an arm silently calling him to her side.

He bent and kissed her head. The late afternoon was turning cool and he handed her a shawl he had picked up from a chair in the bedroom he had crossed. " What a view no?" He commented, sitting next to her on the stone bench.

"Oh Luuuucyyy,you' ve got some splaining to do," She singed-sunged 'I love Lucy.' Smiling she proceeded to explain to the confused man the TV show she had quoted for a second time - and for a second time he was clueless,never seen it.

"OK, let's go inside, sit on the sofa and talk, I promise, no holes barred." He said pushing her with his shoulder in jest.

The couch was white as well as the upholstered chairs, the pictures of Michael as a child with his sister, parents, adorned the tables. The woman had spent the last half-hour alone in the room getting comfortable, relaxing, listing questions in her mind to ask her husband.

" When are we going to start our honeymoon?" Michael asked, padding the blonde's thigh.

" I know you have this itch that needs scratching, so do I, but first things first, what the hell is going on here? Tell me Michael, tell me now." She said.

"How much do you know of French history?" He said

" Monarchy, French Revolution, Bourbon's, very little, very very little." She answered.

"In 1795 the 10 year old heir to the throne of France Louis XVII died of tuberculosis in a Paris prison (The Temple a fortified monastery) he had been held at with his teenage sister. His parents Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette, were guillotined two years before the French Revolution. There were rumors even before his death that another child had been substituted in his place. 19 years later in 1814 came the restoration of France's monarchy. The child's heart was stolen, lost, found, and somehow given to the Bourbon's of Spain who returned it to Paris in 1975 for placement in a reliquary in the royal crypt in St. Denis basilica." Michael said as Nikita sat barefoot on the couch, her arms hugging her legs and her chin resting on her knees.

Michael's eyes danced like his niece's as he continued. "After the Restoration, about 100 people from all over the world came forward claiming to be Louis XVII. My great-grandfather's great-grandfather Charles who was said to have come from Berlin in 1810 with no birth certificate and no known parents didn't want to come forward. His remains were tested and his DNA and the heart's DNA matched. Charles of Bourbon, Duke of Normandy, was buried in Holland in 1845. I am a direct descendant of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette, I am Mishel de Bourbon, Duke of Normandy."

Nikita's eyes grew, like they seemed to do with each revelation by Michael. "We don't claim it Kita, the French Lineage is just a title, there has been so much warring among the Bourbon Family that we just take our rights, lineage and progenitors in order to serve France, nothing else. We don't need it as my Grandfather says. Just like Juan Carlos a Bourbon cousin is King of Spain - my Grandfather is King of France." Michael standing and walking to the window said

"But King Juan Carlos does rule Spain,for whatever the Monarchy is worth there." Nikita added.

"Exactly like in England, Monarchies are archaic Kita. But what is not obsolete is the real threat of terrorism of all sorts in the world. In defense of patrician moral beings - in come the French Bourbon's. Quietly, without any credit, we do what we have to do to make everyone safe." He said, hands in pockets.

"You fight for honor, for love, for," Nikita said.

Michael interrupted, "Kita,we do what we have to do. You'll hear my Grandfather say this all the time."

"Do they know?" Nikita asked.

"Who?" He said stroking her arm, absentmindedly.

"Paul, Walter, Adrian, and Madelyn, do they know?"

//////

"What did they tell you?" Michael asked. "You can trust them Kita, they are telling you the truth."

"That George had started the Sections with Adrian, that they were all members. That they had retired to seek a normal life after your mother was murdered, Oh God they said murdered." She cried covering her mouth.

"Go on Ni-ki-ta, I'll fill you in afterwards." He said kissing her hand and removing it from her mouth.

"That they agreed that George should take over, but he was out of control. That you never knew they had been members of the antiterrorist group. They'd found out George had recruited you, thus breaking the rules of their retirement," Nikita stopped when Michael interrupted.

"Who told them I was recruited?" He asked

"Rene, he was very upset when George had you killed." She added tilting her head when she spoke. Michael nodded his head subtly, she continued. "They suspected you were not dead, because of the ongoing Vacek mission and the shooter, they said Andrea was one of George's top agent." Michael interrupted

"Operative,Andrea was an operative, and George did not kill her, the Vacek did, George used the head that was sent to him to draw me out. I am sorry, go on."

"That the pregnancy couldn't be yours because you two had not been together for over a year and you had that Vasectomy." Here she gave him a playful frown.

" I told you about the pregnancy already, it is not mine and I would have never agreed to something like that, a child, I only want one with you." He smiled, pulled her close and kissed her lips, she lay her legs on his lap and he started caressing them distractedly.

"I know Michael,let's see. Oh and that Maddy had been an, Operative since her college days. She didn't know of you, or of Section 1, she came from 4. And they furtively brought me to London so George wouldn't suspect. And by the way they helped me profile a sym."

Michael let out a loud laugh, brought his hands up to her apex and let the proud woman wallow in his touch. "La femme Nikita." He whispered, winking and blowing her a kiss. "They have told you as much as they could. They know I am a Prince, they know my Grandfather and Niece are alive, they know why they are ' hiding' , but they don't know we are Oversight."

"We need to call them Michael." Nikita said

"They have been moved, they know, we'll see them tonight." Michael said

"Here goes Kita, my mother was murdered, along with my sister Michelle and Simone," Michael stopped, swallowed, pinched the crown of his nose. "Simone," Nikita interrupted noticing this part was causing him great angst.

"I would prefer not to know much more about her, you told me she was a mission,this part is too painful Michael, I understand," She kissed him softly.

"Thank you Nikita. My mother and sister were going shopping with Simone for maternity clothing, she had told them she was pregnant, we had already gone our separate ways. My Grandfather was going to drop them off on his way to the airport." He swallowed again, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"Her mission was to lure my family, one at a time thus forcing me to obey, destroying the Sections, Center, they didn't know about this place - thus destroying our Theocracy or Hierarchy. She didn't know they would be killed that my Grandfather would wind up in a wheelchair, she didn't know she would also be killed. "

"But Michael who, George, who? Nikita asked crying.

Michael his beautiful eyes silver color, "Terrorist groups that Vacek now runs,They are called The Collective, many reasons, the Throne, the vineyard, the holdings, who knows, they don't need a reason. This is why my mother's family retired; why my paternal grandfather completely gave up the Throne and along with my niece doesn't move from here. It is why I will continue," Michael finished, deep breath, smiled and said, "Enough information - can we get,"

"Michael" she said as he picked her up and carried her to the bed, kissing her laughing mouth as he went along. "What shall I call you?"

"Your Serene Highness," soundly dropping her on the bed. He lay on the bed head on the pillow, she sat opposite him and he stroked her bare leg and arm and curvy rump.

"My father died when Michelle and I were 5 years old, the story goes that he died in an accident in the vineyard, but the truth is Red Cell a Communist group out of Vietnam, had him killed - this is when we hid the Bourbon connection." Michael continued

"Let's get jiggy," She told him.

"Hmm" as she kissed his trouser covered hips. "Jiggy?"

////

Honeymoons sometimes are full of angst. There are the new or virgin lovers - although those are a rare occurrence in this day and age. There are the exhausted lovers - big weddings, loads of partying, overextending oneselves and so on. There are the outside conditions that may cause angst - weather, health, family, friends, war, pestilence and the other Horsemen of the Apocalypse

But usually honeymoons are full of wonderful moments. The memories created to be treasured forever. And certainly this was the case with our favorite lovers. The cleansing confessions of moments before; the necessary arrangements for indispensable time with friend and foe - all done with grace, finesse and alacrity. The lovers ready, sex toys in hand, off they went into their own epoch.

The stone lodge on the property dated back hundreds of years. Although close enough from the main compound for security reasons, it was far enough to insure its privacy. The cottage sat in a clearing surrounded by a forest in the shores of a babbling brook that traveled noisily to an impressive waterfall. The cascading waters close enough to see from the large window that had been replaced years before with a glass pane.

The building solid, old, but certainly with all the modern facilities that would serve to make the honeymooners comfortable. They'd travel to the locale on horseback; his black like a starless night, hers white like the light she brought to his life. The lush landscaping aligning the perimeter wild, but somehow manicured. An engaging place for a spellbinding time with an enchanting couple!

The bride had checked the place out while the groom busied himself with starting a fire, firing up the generator, opening windows, preparing a bath. The tub, an old cast iron and brass clawed vessel sat daintily in the middle of the kitchen area in the one room house. The bed with its brass ornate headboard covered in hand-embroidered linens and plush feather mattress. The sofa, the dining table, the chairs, the ottoman all covered in velvets and silks - the place very white, direly regal, extremely elegant and intensely romantic.

After carrying his wife over the threshold, the husband then re-entered transporting more firewood. She gasped as she saw him release the horses and send them galloping back to where they' d come from. The wild flowers she'd gathered pilled in her arms threatened to spill as she slightly jumped.

"Don't worry" he called out, "they'll be back soon enough - in a couple of days,you'll see."

She nodded her head and entered again floating petals in the boiling water he had filled the tub with. The fragrance of the crushed flowers was filling the space with an intoxicating aroma. She turned when he entered, his muscled arms rippling with the exertion of carrying the wood. She smiled shyly, her sky blue eyes dancing with the joy of the moment

"If we could always stay here," She thought out loud.

His intensely green stare made her a bit timorous. She saw need and devotion in those wonderful eyes. His indescribably handsome face scrutinizing her every move, like a predatory animal in desperate need of the kill.

"I love you Kita, is the water ready?" He asked, almost mundanely when he saw her touch the bath water

"Not yet." She whispered as she winced from the intensity of the heat.

He was at her side in a flash, taking the affected hand and bringing it to his lips. With closed eyes and devotion he touched it to his mouth and tenderly kissed the red patch better. He had started the music an instant before and the soft sounds of a French ballad filled the one room environment. He engulfed her in his arms and together they commenced a silent dance that would start them on the road to Paradise.

"You know you are my Prince Charming," She saucily said as she kissed his mouth with devotion.

He smiled - his rare and priceless mouth in the most provocative of moves, eyes shuddered for a brief spans. " This is the beginning of our fairy tale."

She moved one of the hands that caressed his neck to caress his fascinating lower lip. The princess bride whispered kissing her prince with a calenture that sucked the oxygen from his lungs and the actuality from her brain, she suspired "Once upon a time..."