Chapter 13A

The next day Nikita decided to take lunch out of the MI-6 training center. She couldn't face another day of staring at blank faces in the cafeteria. As she wandered down Boroughs Street, she sought out a Starbucks.

Strange how things turned out: when she was with Section in Paris, all she did was drink tea and now that she was in the land of tea drinkers - England, she sought out coffee.

As Nikita sat on a corner stool drinking her double latte and munching on a bagel with cream cheese, she looked up to see Terry Blake walk through the door. Terry waved and quickly made her way over to Nikita.

"Nik! How are you! How is everything going in Legoland?"

{MI-6 is called Legoland by those who work there, due to the building design.}

Nikita force a smile. "Oh, everything is okay, I guess."

Terry sat down on the opposite stool. "You don't look okay...what's up?"

"It's the trainee they've given me. I think I'm going to fail miserably with him and I will end up back at Section One."

"What! What are you talking about?"

"Well....but hey! You want to know who he is - that smarmy Frenchman we saw in that Bahamian bar!"

"Ohhhhhhh...the one with the hot buns...no way! What the hell you training him for?"

"He was busted for money laundering...but because he's some kind of computer genius, the agency thinks they can use his talents."

"My ghawd! I'd like to experience his talents too! Soooo...what's he like?"

"Well, he was suppose to show up this morning at 7am for self-defense class. I stood around with the karate master, but he never showed. When I went looking for him, I found the guy talking on a public pay phone. He had the nerve to wave me off...told me he was having a private conversation with his solicitor and that he was coming down with a cold and couldn't possibly do a work-out today! So I went and talked to Madeline. She just stood there, glaring at me and told me there was a very narrow window in which I had to have this man brought up to agent status and that if I failed, I would be shipped back to Section."

"Hummm...but what's he like?"

"Terry! He's a computer geek! He may be a good-looking man, but he's arrogant, smug, claims he's afraid of women...which I think is bull. He's putting on an act, I'm sure."

"Well, lay down the law with him."

"That's what Madeline told me...be the dominant one. I'm no good at this job...I told them...I'm not a trainer...I perform better in the field."

"Oh, geeze Nik, I'm sorry things are going badly for you."

Nikita took a final sip of her latte and looked up, "What about you - how's things at MI-5?"

"Awwww, they got me working on this call-girl ring...actually it's kinda fun. Oh, and I bumped into David." She grinned. "You know - your old lover!"

"Don't remind me...I almost phoned him the other night."

"Really? The fires still burning there?"

"No - they have long gone out. It was after my first interview with Mr. Samuelle...there's something about that man...he just got me all flustered."

Terry started laughing. "There was something about him, wasn't there. I can picture him sitting in that bar...hummmmm...those eyes, that mouth...."

"He's going to put me back in Section; those eyes and mouth," groaned Nikita.

"Well David Majors is still talking about you, pumped me for intel about who you were...ah...."

"Sleeping with? That sounds like him."

"Apparently he got hell for fraternizing with a fellow operative. I guess it's alright for working ops to have sex, just as long as they don't form emotional relationships." She laughed.

"There never was any emotional relationship with him...it was all about sex."

Nikita looked at her watch. "Look Terry, let's keep in touch, but I better get back to the factory."

Nikita waved as she made her way through the crowded coffee bar.

~ ~ ~

That evening in her flat, NIkita sat sipping wine and toying with a plate of cooling pasta.

Hummmm...I seem to have lost my appetite. I must get back in focus....tomorrow morning, first thing. If I have to drag that guy's butt out of bed, we are going for a run, then have the karate master beat the pulp out of him. I have to show him who's boss!

The following morning at 6am, Nikita wheeled her black Porsche into the underground staff parking lot of MI-6. She had decided to arrive, wearing her work-out clothes, order Michael Samuelle into whatever sweats he possessed, and drag him out for a run. Sitting in her office, she replaced the telephone and shook her head.

What on earth was going on! The guy wasn't in his quarters....

She stormed out her office and began making her way to Madeline's, stopping just before knocking on the door.

No...no, I must not allow Madeline to know what is happening.

Suddenly, Madeline swung open the door.

"Well, Nikita...you wanted something?"

"I...ah...I am attempting to locate Mr. Samuelle...ah, but he is not in his quarters."

"He is working in TechCom and has been since 5am. We have a high profile mission that required his expertise, or so we hope. I am on my way there now if you wish to accompany me. You may observe for an hour, then return at 3pm and take Mr. Samuelle out for a run."

Madeline grinned, "My sounds like taking a dog out. Anyway...I am sure he will appreciate some exercise after sitting at a computer for ten hours."

"May I ask what the mission is?"

As they entered TechCom, the high protocol nerve center containing banks of computers and agents working on simultaneous missions around the globe, Madeline motioned for Nikita to take a seat in a far corner.

"All you need to know is the mission involves money laundering in Russia. We feel Mr. Samuelle has connectons to certain Russian government officials and his activities in the Bahamas involved dispersal of U.S. aid funds destined for Russia."

Nikita blinked and swallowed hard.

Hummmm...this man is indeed more than he seems.

Madeline walked over to Michael and stood watching him work at a bank of five computers. He typed rapidly on all five different keyboards, moving silently between the consoles. After a few minutes, he turned to Madeline.

"Your set up here is rather cumbersome, a more ergonomic design would facilitate faster retrieval of intel. You do have serious bandwidth, but then I would expect that."

"Mr. Samuelle, we are only a government agency, please work with what we have. You will spend the balance of the morning here, break for a half-hour lunch and then at 3pm, go for a mandatory run with your trainer, Ms. Jones."

Michael swiveled his chair around to smile at Nikita who sat fidgeting in the corner. She nodded and he returned to face the bank of computers.

"Perhaps Ms. Jones might aid me in setting up this trojan horse I'm working on. I trust MI-6 has trained all its agents in the basics of computer language."

"Ms. Jones is not trained to understand the complexities of the task at hand. You will work alone...now I will leave you to your work."

"Very well...but this is such a lonely environment."

Madeline leaned into Michael, "I was under the impression you were not comfortable working with women, Mr. Samuelle...has your little ruse slipped?"

"Not at all...in fact the illogical ineptitude in all women frightens. I only hoped to show MI-6 how utterly incompetent its agents are...women and men."

Madeline gritted her teeth, "Back to work - now!"

She motioned for Nikita to follow her out of TechCom, shaking her head. "Put that smartass through heavy physical training! We will break his arrogant attitude!"

Nikita smiled to herself, "I think he just insulted all women working here. But, I have, however, spent many hours working on computers at Section...I can possibly assist..."

"All you need to know is how to retrieve files and send emails, Ms. Jones. Now, come to recruit reception, I have a new agent who is anxious to be working here. Her name is Zoe Miller-Bates. She has a PHD in engineering from Cambridge. You will introduce her to the karate master, then work on her self-defense techniques. After that, take her to the firing range, and teach her firearms usage. She is a quick learner, so one week should suffice."

Nikita and Zoe had spent the morning on the tasks dictated by Madeline. As they checked in the firearms after a one hour practice, Zoe turned to Nikita.

"Thanks, Ms. Jones...you've been very helpful and friendly. This place is somewhat overwhelming to a new recruit. Say, where are you from - your accent isn't English."

"It's mid-Pacific - Australian and North American." She laughed. "I'm surprised you noticed."

"Well I studied engineering, but also languages and dialects. My parents were in the diplomatic service and we lived everywhere. I guess that's why they ended up divorcing - my mother got sick of moving."

"I'm sorry...I know what it's like not having parents together."

"Oh, you too."

"I...ah...I don't really want to talk about it. So, Ms. Miller-Bates, you got digs yet?"

"My name is Zoe Bates. Don't know why Madeline wants everybody to have a double name...what's with that?"

The two women laughed and Nikita patted her on the shoulder. "See you tomorrow in the self-defense gym - 8am?"

"Good...and, thanks Ms. Jones."

"Nikita...call me Nikita."

~ ~ ~

Nikita returned to TechCom at five minutes before 3pm. Michael was still working at the computer consoles.

"Time for your run Mr. Samuelle. Return to your quarters and put on some running clothes."

Michael turned and looked up at Nikita. "Running clothes...I don't think I have anything suitable."

"Cut the bull! If not, you will run in those clothes...the jeans might be somewhat scratchy and the wool sweater a little warm...but so what! Now move!"

"Well, I might have something suitable in my wardrobe. Can we meet at the front door in say ten minutes?"

"No! Just...just get going...shut down the damn computer and move!"

Nikita stood outside the men's quarters waiting. She paced up and down the hallway. Two young operatives exited and grinned at her.

"Hey, can we help you?" smirked the younger one.

"Yes! Tell Michael Samuelle to get his butt out here now!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

The door swung open and Michael stepped between the two operatives. He was dressed in tight black sweatpants and a black sweat top. He also wore a black wool toque (wool hat).

Nikita giggled. "What's with the hat?"

"I thought I looked like a spy...thought I'd get into character...it's...too much, maybe?"

"Yes, it's not that cold out."

They left the MI-6 training center and started jogging down Borough High Street, dodging the crowds. Nikita turned to Michael who was lagging behind.

"Look, there's a park a few minutes away...we can do laps there."

"Thank you."

They entered the park and Nikita jogged over to a bench. She lifted her leg and began doing stretches.

"It's best to limber up before any serious running...or you might end up with an injury."

Michael stood watching her, taking in the line of her legs contained in a steel-grey track suit. Her hair was piled high and held with a leather tie. She turned, feeling his eyes tracing the outlines of her body and impulsively pulled the zip up higher on the form-fitting top.

"Would you like to show me how to stretch," he questioned.

Nikita could feel his eyes boring into her; she felt like he was undressing her, her heart began to pound.

What is with this guy...no...it's me...I'm over-reacting.

"Do what I'm doing, stretch out the hamstrings and calf muscles."

Michael lifted his right leg onto the bench. "Like this...ouch it hurts."

Nikita's eyes were riveted to his leg - a leg fully developed with muscles and form. As Michael bent over to attempt touching his toes, his sweat top pulled up to expose his waist and a line of buttocks in tight sweat pants. Nikita breathed deeply.

This guy must work out...his legs and butt...

"Are you sure you haven't been working out...you seem...ah, too...look...well..."

"I used to spend time pumping iron in a gymnasium because I spent so much time working at a computer. Perhaps I have built up some upper body strength."

He pulled his leg from the bench and rolled up the sleeve of his top.

"What do you think? Find any muscle there?" He grinned.

Michael's forearms and upper arm muscles were indeed developed.

"Yes, you look...like you've been pumping iron. But strength is only one thing, cardio-vascular is very important. Now, let's start doing some laps around the park."

Nikita set off on the pathway. She set a moderate pace but Michael was soon left behind. Stopping, she turned and waited for him to catch up.

"Wow...you are in poor shape."

"Sorry, I guess pumping iron didn't help with my fitness."

"No it didn't. Okay, let's just walk fast...build you up to running flat out."

"Thank you, you are very kind."

"Kind? Are you kidding me? Look, Mr. Samuelle, MI-6 has very specific plans for you and the time-frame is short...you must work hard."

"So I've been told. But time is on my side."

"What? I don't understand."

"May we sit down?"

"But we haven't even done any running to speak of!"

"Please...please be gentle with me...I'm not accustom to..."

"I know! Being around dominant women - fine! You do look kind of tired."

Michael walked over to a nearby bench and sat with Nikita following. She stood in front of him.

He did have dark circles under his eyes...Madeline had him working since 5am...

"I am sorry, I am tired...I was up most of the night."

"Really...what...I mean...did Madeline have you working on another project?"

"Yes, most of the night."

Ha! I knew it! Madeline had him in her bed all night! No wonder the guy is tired, having to perform for her...poor guy...imagine going all night...well, he has stamina.

"The hours at MI-6 are indeed long." sighed Michael.

He thought to himself: Three hours in the staff room trying to contact his solicitor...what were they trying to do to him? He had to get out of MI-6...it served no purpose. Nikita interjected. "Look, I know it is difficult being a new recuit and when extra...ah, work is demanded from you...well, let's head back to MI-6, you look like you could use some rest."

"Thank you, again you are very kind Ms. Jones."

"Please call me Nikita."

"Yes, thank you, I will try harder next time we meet."

"Well next time will be tomorrow, after your shift in TechCom...and, ah, try to get some rest tonight."

He smiled. "You are very kind."

They walked in silence out of the park and Nikita hailed a taxi to return to MI-6.

~ ~ ~

Nikita walked through the halls of the training center, having completed a work-out with Zoe Bates and the kick boxing master. If felt good to be actually achieving something. Zoe was a quick learner, a hard worker, and keen. Nikita glanced at her watch, and thought:

I best hit the showers and change to outside sweats for the run with Michael Samuelle.

She swung open the door to her office, while dabbing her face with a towel.

Nikita stopped abruptly: seated behind her desk was Michael Samuelle. He was tapping codes into her computer.

"What the hell are you doing in here! And how did you access my office - the door has a special entry code!"

He looked up and shrugged. "A very primitive code. I didn't think you would mind me playing on your computer until you returned. I must say, these people don't trust you with much intel access...you are locked out of everything but boring training files...so I've been toying with some internet sites."

"Get out of my chair! In fact, get the hell out of here now!"

Michael discreetly logged off the computer, rose and walked over to Nikita. He was dressed in a dark blue, ribbed t-shirt and black running pants. As he stood before her, she backed away and side-stepped around him.

"I thought we could do some running," he stated. "I finished early in TechCom. The work they have me performing is very tedious and really child's play...I got bored. I'll just grab a running jacket and then we can go."

"What! I...I...can't just....!"

"Oh, I am sorry...you have been working out in the gym? You look somewhat sweaty."

Nikita quickly wiped the towel over her face and arms. "Yes, a kickboxing lesson...but...ahhhh...why not wait for me in the lounge. I'll have a quick shower, then we can leave for the run."

"Sweat becomes you...your face has a healthy glow...like a woman who has just made love."

"What! Look...please leave...now! I...I'll meet you in the lounge, say in ten minutes!"

Michael smiled and opened the door. "Ten minutes...and I will try to perform better on the run today."

As the door closed, Nikita sank into her chair, breathing deeply.

How on earth am I going to work with this man...every time I see him, I start acting like a schoolgirl...I can't talk properly...I can't even function. And the bull about being uncomfortable around women! He is either very naive or very clever - I suspect the latter.

Nikita grabbed her towel and raced from her office down the hall to the women's locker room. She stripped and jumped into a shower.

Why the hell am I having a shower? I'm just going to get all sweaty again...sweaty...like a woman who just made love - crap!

After changing her clothes, Nikita walked into the lounge. In one corner of the room, Michael stood staring out the window, deep in thought; he did not notice her approach.

"Okay, Mr. Samuelle - I've changed my mind. I think it's time you learned kickboxing!"

Michael swung around. "Oh, mon dieu! You startled me! I am not accustom to sudden moves."

"Well, you are about to learn some sudden moves. I've contacted the kickboxing master and he will be showing you the basics."

"Why him? I would prefer you show me how to protect myself."

"Come with me now! He will start you off with the basics and I will work with you, sort of like a coach."

"I am certain you can teach me everything I need to know."

"I...ahhhh...he is a master in kickboxing...he will show you the basic moves."

~ ~ ~

Nikita and Michael entered the self-defense gym. Josh McIntyre, the karate and kickboxing master Nikita had met on her first day at MI-6, walked over to them. He spoke with a broad Scottish accent.

"Greetings...so Nikita, this is the computer geek we have to whip into shape. Doesn't look as bad as some geeks...you been workin' out matey? No matter, we'll try to make you into at least a baby spy!" He laughed loudly. "Right - go stand on the mat over there."

Josh McIntyre showed Michael the basic moves in kickboxing and then motioned for Michael to try and attack him. Michael shrugged and stepped forward, his hands raised to strike the master. With sudden and violent response, McIntyre threw Michael to the floor.

"First lesson to learn matey...attack, don't show me what you are planning."

"Thank you," replied Michael as he got to his feet. "But I was under the impression that the moves came from inside...one had to feel the moves."

"What the hell you talkin' about mate...this is so you can defend yourself, not lift you to a higher plane...shit!

Nikita turned away, grinned and covered her mouth with a hand to hide her laughter.

"Alright computer wizard...again...come at me!"

Michael began dancing around the diameter of the mat, his hands raised and moving wildly.

"Oh krist Nikita...he's all yours, and good luck with this one. He knows the basics - I guess!"

Josh McIntyre wandered off shaking his head, leaving Nikita and Michael alone in the gym.

"Are you okay?" questioned Nikita.

"I think I may have pulled something when he threw me to the floor. I hope you will be more gentle."

"This is not a gentle activity. Now take your stance again. You are on offensive approach; I'll be defensive. Now - go!"

The two moved in circles around the mat; Michael's hands rotated in stroking motions.

Nikita lunged forward. "You are in offensive mode - try to attack!"

"This is very difficult, I am not an aggressive person...but I will try."

Michael wheeled around and threw one leg in the air as Nikita ducked and dodged behind him.

"That's somewhat better...remember the moves Josh showed you and try to attack me."

"I would prefer to dance with you."

Oh Lord, thought Nikita. This is hopeless. How can I teach a passive individual to be aggressive?

"Well, try to remember the moves and pretend to be dancing...but use your hands and legs as weapons."

"Weapons? But I prefer to use my hands and legs for love."

"What! I...forget that! Think of me as an aggressor who is going to kill you!"

Michael began dodging side to side and whirled around while extending his leg: he connected, hitting Nikita on her calf muscles. She tumbled to the floor and he jumped across her, holding his hand at her throat. She stared up in disbelief.

"Oh, pardon! I am so sorry...I think that was beginner's luck," he purred.

Nikita inhaled deeply. "Ahhhh...no problem...you can get off me now."

Michael jumped up and extended his hand, pulling Nikita to her feet.

"That was...ah, very good...maybe you are getting the hang of it."

"Hang? I am sorry...what does that..."

"Look, that's enough martial arts for today. Let's go for a run...an easy run...so did you, ah...get more sleep last night?" she stammered trying to re-focus.

"Un petit...I will be grateful when I have my own quarters. So, where will we run to?"

"No where in particular...from here to the park. Ahh, we can start off walking, then a light jog."

"Jog?"

What the????? Has he suddenly forgot how to speak English?

Once outside of MI-6, Nikita pointed down the street in the direction of the park. They began walking, then Nikita quickened the pace. Michael was soon lagging behind and she stopped to wait for him.

"Look Mr. Samuelle - I don't want to be nosey, but may I ask a question?"

"Please call me Michael and I would hope I may call you Nikita."

"Yes, fine."

"Ask the question. I only hope I can answer."

"Well, ahhh...is Madeline...oh, ah, is Madeline requiring you to...."

"Requiring me to work late?"

"Yes...ah, in her office."

"Not in her office - no."

"Okay, I didn't mean to pry...it's just that sexual harassment in the work place is unacceptable, even for a person in your circumstances."

"I do not mind...I don't sleep well anyway."

Nikita shook her head and motioned for Michael to continue. They continued walking until reaching the park.

Nikita smiled. "Let's try some easy running now...until we reach the far park entrance."

"You have a beautiful smile."

"Ahhh. Thanks. Let's run."

Nikita increased the pace as she glanced over her shoulder to see Michael keeping up. When she reached the park entrance, she stopped and bent to stretch out her legs. "We should have stretched first, but try giving all your muscles a good stretch now."

"All my muscles?"

"Yes......"

Michael bent over as he placed an outstretched leg on a park bench. His tight running pants clung to his thighs and buttocks. The running jacket was tied at the waist and when he lifted his arms over his head to stretch, the fabric lifted to expose his bare abdomen. Nikita attempted to divert her eyes from the front of his pants and the bulge protruding in the tight fabric.

Oh my gawd...Nik! Get your mind out of the gutter! And off this man's body!

Michael looked over at Nikita. "Nikee-ta...you are not stretching..."

"Ahhhhh...right...I should...yes...stretch...but let's just head back to MI-6. I just remembered I have a meeting, and I need to prepare some files for...come on...let's head back."

"Very well, but may I ask you a question?"

"Ahhhh...well...okay."

"We met briefly in the Bahamas - correct?"

"Yes, I think we bumped into each other in a hotel bar. But we should not talk about that...it was a mission I was on and..."

"The mission that went badly and the reason why you are in the training center?"

"How do you know...you should not discuss...and I suppose you were busy laundering money in the Bahamas!"

Michael grinned. "Yes, I was - and now I am here...ahhh, c'est la vie."

"Come on, we should head back to MI-6," swallowed Nikita.

~ ~ ~

That evening back in her flat, Nikita wandered over to her stereo and popped in a Sarah McLachlan and Diana Krall cd. Once again her appetite had left her and as she flopped onto the eggshell white, over-stuffed sofa, a bag of corn chips and glass of wine in hand, she lay very still, her eyes closed. The music drifted throughout the flat as she sipped the red wine and reached for the bag of corn chips.

What's the matter with me - I used to love eating...food was my passion...now I'm never hungry. Maybe I'm just bored with the new job...or...maybe it's Mr. Enigma - Michael Samuelle. The run did go better today...but why can't I just do the job, instread of acting like an idiot around him.

She reached over and grabbed a hardcover copy of Margaret Atwood's Oryx & Crake.

Maybe reading will make me forget my loser life. She laughed. Hummmmm...a total Canadian evening - Sarah, Diana Krall and Margaret Atwood. Possibly the science fiction would provide an escape. Okay ladies - take me away - do your thing.

As Nikita was slipping into an Atwood fantasy, she jumped to the sudden sound of her cellphone. Grabbing the phone and trying not to spill her wine, she stammered. "Yes?"

"Josephine. Is that you?"

"WHAT! Who...who is this!"

Her Section identity name rang in her ear; and a cold shiver shot throughout her body.

"Ha! Gottcha love! I bet you never thought telling me your secret id name in the throws of passion, would come back to haunt you!"

"David! What do you want?"

"I'm sitting down here in my new Merecedes and thought I'd give you a call."

"Another new car...the ashtrays full in the last one?"

David Majors main passion in life was flashy sports cars. Even though his earnings didn't warrant spending money on the type of cars he lusted after, he somehow managed to keep up the payments.

"Can I come up to see you? I've missed you Niki!"

"I've told you a hundred times, don't call me that; and no you may not come up - go away!"

"Awwwwww! Nikita! I want to apologize for all my previous obnoxious behaviour...I really have missed you!"

"I bet...but no - there is nothing between us anymore David."

"Awwww, come on Nikita - this call girl operation we're working on is driving me crazy...long hours on stakeouts, eating cold burgers. Please let me see you!"

"No David - you probably just want to get laid."

"Hey! That's mean, we had more going for us that just sex...but you must admit the sex was hot! I really miss you, please...."

"There is no point to us seeing each other - and besides I understand you were chastised by MI-5 for fraternizing with another operative."

"Ha! Yes, Terry Blake told you huh? Well, screw them, I don't care...everybody is having some sort of affair with other agents. It was just a little wrist slap anyway. But, hey, Terry says you are having a rough time at MI-6. Working in the training center - blimey - that is penance! And you have some hard-ass computer geek to train. Sure you don't want to talk about it? I'm all ears and I just bought a curry...your favorite."

Nikita paced through the flat not replying. It was true; David and her had supported each other on internal work politics before. Maybe talking to someone from the same world would help her frame of mind. "Nikita? You still there?"

"Yes...well, okay...but just to listen and eat your curry."

"Great! I'll be right there!"

David Majors jumped from the Mercedes and set the alarm.

Oh geeze - I'm getting hard just thinking about her. Down boy - take your time and you will be rewarded!

He ran up the stairs to the second floor and Nikita's apartment. She was still pacing the floor, thinking:

Crap! This was probably not a good idea...but I do need to talk to someone who might understand.

Within minutes David Majors was knocking at Nikita's door. As she swung it open, he stood, curry bag and wine in hand. Grinning, he stepped into the flat.

"Gawd, it's good to see you again! You look great - as usual!"

"Yes...ah, you look good...have you cut your hair shorter?"

"Yeh, decided to go for the military, close cropped look - what do you think?"

"It's all you David."

"I'll pop the curry in the microwave, right! I see you've got a bottle of the grape open, so I'll just chill this one."

He opened the refrigerator and placed the white wine on a empty shelf.

"Woooo...this fridge is looking a little bare...you on a diet! I always said you were a tad thin Nik."

"I haven't been hungry...maybe the curry will spark my appetite."

David stretched out his arms towards Nikita.

"Hey, how about a hug, for old times sake!"

Nikita stood still as David wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her cheek. He felt his erection push on the Armani pants; and so did Nikita. She immediately backed away.

"Ohhhh...sorry Nik! I can't help it...you do that to me...I always have a hard on when I'm with you."

Nikita walked away and sat on the sofa. "So I remember...you should learn to control it David."

"Only you do it to me Nik! But I'll try - I promise."

Just then the microwave beeped and David raced over, pulling out the curry. He dished out two helpings on china plates and walked over to the sofa, handing Nikita s streaming plate. She said nothing, but took small mouthfuls of the Indian curry. It tasted good - he was correct - the curry was her favorite. David reached over and poured himself a glass of wine. He drained the glass, then poured another.

"Ohhh, I needed that...this case is the worst! The local police should be handling it, but there is a possible tie into homeland security. Oh, Terry Blake is a toot to work with - she's keeping me sane. She told me about your Bahamas fiasco - don't figure it was your fault Nik. I think Terry feels guilty leaving you while she was auditioning bellboys." He laughed.

Nikita said nothing, she nibbled on the curry and sipped her wine.

"So, you want to talk about what's bothering you?"

"Why do you think anything is bothering me?"

"Hey, love...it's written all over your face. And working in the training center! Come on! I'm sure they'll send you back out into the field."

"More likely back to Section One, if I don't work out."

"No way! They must know your abilities - you are a great agent...what you need to do is set your goals. Okay, you're stuck in training now, but when you get back in the field...hey, what do you really want to do in MI-6?"

"You forgot already."

"Ahhhh...what...no...you told me but..."

"I would like to work in tactical or be a head strategist."

"Oh, yeh, I remember...lofty goals Nikita."

David finished his curry and looked at Nikita's plate. "You didn't like the curry?"

"It was good...I just have no appetite. But thanks for bringing it."

He took her plate and washed both under the tap. Picking up the red wine bottle, he smiled. "Empty...want to try some white...it's your favorite."

"You brought only my favorites - curry and wine."

"I guess I'm try to make up for all the bad behavior I dished out. I want to apologize for being a real dickhead. I sometimes take people for granted - especially you. Please forgive me Nikita. I am really fond of you and missed you like hell!"

Nikita smiled weakly. "We've played this scene before David - and no way is it going to get you laid tonight."

"I don't care...I just wanted to see you...but please...if something is bothering you - tell me. If you are totally pissed at me - say so. If it's work - dump it one me."

"Thanks...I...I just feel empty...sort of lost. I thought coming to MI-6 would be different...and for a while it was. The freedom compared to Section is great...I met people, made friends - even met you." She smiled. "But after the mission went bad in the Bahamas, I started questioning...well, my existence. Why am I bothering? What for?"

"You do have it bad Nik. Do you want a philosophical answer or a practical one?"

"I'm tired of analyzing the philosophical ones - I'll take a practical one."

"You like your work, well, maybe not right now, but aspects of the intelligence game, correct?"

"Yes."

"Focus on what you like...and pursue that. You are good at the job! Fighting through all the politics is overwhelming, I know. But if you want to be a head strategist - find out what it will take to get you there - then do everything in your power to obtain your goal."

David got up and retrieved the wine from the fridge. He grabbed two new glasses and poured out the wine, handing one to Nikita. She looked up, taking the wine in her right hand while with the other, touched him gently.

"Thanks David. I had forgot how talking to you helped me."

He sat next to her on the sofa and clinked his glass with hers. "That's what I'm here for...to offer my services...any kind." He smirked and put his arm around her shoulder.

"Ahhh...thanks for the advice - not anything else."

"No problem Nik...hey, I love this cd - who is it?"

"Diana Krall, a Canadian jazz pianist."

"Another wonder from the colonies."

"Don't start that again."

"Ahhhh...sorry."

Nikita rested her head on his shoulder and the two sat listening to the music and sipping their wine. The cd had almost ended as Nikita felt herself drifting asleep. David leaned over and kissed her lips; he slipped his hand along her thigh and began stroking between her legs. Nikita moaned and felt her arousal.

"No David...no, please."

"Ohhh, you feel so good...come on Nikita...I can tell you want it too."

He continued stroking and toying with her womanhood. Nikita moaned and sputtered. "This is what you came here for, isn't it David...to have sex with me."

"I know you want it too...why fight it?"

Nikita did try to fight back the sensation in her body; but he was correct - she did need release...even if it was only temporary. She grabbed his hands, rose from the sofa and led David to her bedroom. He immediately began pulling his clothes off, tossing them across the room. Nikita stood waiting, then began undressing slowly. She smiled.

"See I remember, you liked watching me undress for you."

"Oh gawd, yes...oh you are so beautiful Nikita and I'm so hard!" She reached into the side table, pulled out a condom and ripped the silver package open with her teeth.

"Here - something to keep you occupied while I undress."

Nikita slipped her sweater over her head and pulled the cord pants from her legs. David forced the condom on his erect member and grabbed her, pulling off her bra and lace panties, then threw her back onto the bed. He pounced on her, nibbling at her breasts and pulled her legs apart. He immediately entered her body and began pounding into her.

"Awwwwwwww...gawd," he cried out.

Nikita closed her eyes as she clutched his shoulders and breathed heavily. She drifted away as another face floated before her: a man with auburn hair, and deep penetrating grey/green eyes. The man's sensuous mouth was sucking on her breasts.

David continued thrusting until he cried out as his orgasm overtook his body. He fell on top of Nikita as she thrust her hips upward; suddenly she shook violently as her body vibrated with her orgasm. David rolled away, rose from the bed and wandered into the bathroom.

Nikita's eyes shot open: Oh my God! It was him...he was...oh God!

David returned and threw Nikita a towel. "Here sweetheart, want to mop up? That was incredible...absence does make things...ah, hotter. You came big time, love...like when we first did it."

Nikita rolled over and pulled the sheet over her chilling body.

"You want me to stay the night? I know - before I used to just leave...but, ah...hey, it was so good, we could go again when I get...ha, up for it."

Nikita said nothing. Her body began shivering. She sat up and pulled the duvee around her.

"No David...I think you better leave, please."

"What! But...that was incredible sex! You are wonderful Nikita...please...again..."

"No David - please go."

"What did I do wrong? I thought..."

"It's not you...you were great...I'm ...I just want to be alone...call me tomorrow, okay."

"Huh? What? Yeh, sure, love...anything you say...I'll just grab my clothes and see myself out. Hey, you okay?"

"I'm fine...just tired. We'll talk tomorrow."

David grabbed his clothes from around the room, then leaned into kiss Nikita on the cheek.

"You are the most beautiful woman I've know Nikita...I...I..."

"Good night David...please go now."

David Majors pulled on his clothes and left Nikita's apartment. As he slid behind the wheel of his Mercedes, he grinned to himself. "I knew I would get in there...and she was so overcome...probably the best she's ever had." He laughed. "Tomorrow night...same again...."

Chapter 14

Nikita raced through the halls of the training center and into the women's locker room. She quickly put on her lycra tights and top, then ran into the self-defense gym. Zoe Bates was sitting on a bench reading a book on karate.

"Zoe! I am so sorry I'm late," apologized Nikita.

Zoe looked up and smiled. "No problem Nikita...gave me a chance to catch up on some reading. Hey, you okay, you looked a little stressed."

"I'm fine. I went for a drive in my car this morning to burn off some excess....ah, energy and forgot the time - sorry."

"I love your car - wish I could afford one. My parents offered to buy me a car when I was at university - an old mini. Not that they couldn't afford to buy me a sports car but...."

"The car came with my old job...at the other agency I worked."

"Great perk! Maybe I'll apply to work there."

"Not a good idea Zoe - stay here at MI-6. So, should we pick up where we left off yesterday?"

Zoe and Nikita spent the next hour going through various martial arts maneuvers then stopped to take a break. They were sitting with towels around their necks and drinking from plastic water bottles, when Michael Samuelle walked into the gym. He was dressed in black stretch pants and a black tank top.

Nikita choked on a mouthful of water and turned away to regain her composure. Zoe's eyes were riveted to Michael.

"Pardonez-moi, mademoiselle Jones...or, pardon Nee-kee-ta. Do you possibly have time to spend with me going over some kickboxing moves? I was able to spend more time with the master and hope I learned something."

"Ahhhhhh...well....I...was working with Ms. Bates and we haven't finished the set...maybe I...."

"No problem - I will wait and watch you," nodded Michael.

Zoe grinned, "Hey, please - you two have a go. I'm sure I'll learn something."

"Thank you Ms. Bates, but I am certain you know far more than I do," smiled Michael.

Zoe turned and leaned to whisper in Nikita's ear as Michael began stretching out his upper body and legs.

"My gawd Nikita - he is beautiful! Is he Michael Samuelle?

"Ahhhhh...yes...he is...."

"The other female recruits are all talking about him - he is a mystery man, but, oh so gorgeous!"

Nikita shook her head and walked up to Michael. "All right! Let's see what you might have learned Mr. Samuelle."

"Please call me Michael...you let me call you Nee-kee-ta."

"Ahhhh...yes...fine...take offensive stance - go!"

Michael darted about the mat and swung twice at Nikita while she ducked his blows. Suddenly he jumped and swung around, striking her from behind. Nikita barely knew what hit her as she crashed onto the mat. Michael ran to her, leaned over and craddled face.

"Pardon! I am sorry...I did not mean to hurt you...are you alright?"

Nikita jumped to her feet and scowled at Michael. "I am fine! Where did you learn that move! That is from an advanced set - the master did not show you how to execute such a move! That's the second time you've decked me with that move!"

Michael shrugged and smiled weakly. "Beginner's luck, I suppose."

"You don't need to work out! Stop playing with my head Mr. Samuelle. You know far more than you let on, just who the hell are you anyway!"

"A poor criminal made to work for MI-6. Please don't be angry with me...we were getting on so well on our runs."

"Runs! You can't bloody well run! You are supposedly in lousy shape! And don't forget the part about being uncomfortable around women - you are a fake Mr. Samuelle and I will be reporting such to Madeline!"

"Not Madeline...please...she will give me more night work to do."

"Tough! Now get the hell out of here - go back to TechCom!"

"Does this mean we will not be running today?"

"What do you think! NO! Now leave!"

Michael leaned in and whispered in Nikita's ear. "I am sorry I have made you angry...please forgive me...how can I make it up to you?"

"You picked the wrong day to play your little male games with me mister! Leave!!"

Michael bowed and reached for Nikita's hand. He kissed it gently and walked from the gym.

Zoe's eyes where as big as saucers. "My gawd Nikita! Why are you so mad at him?"

"Because he is a fake...he is playing everyone in MI-6 for a fool! He has some sort of agenda, but I refuse to be taken in by it. Now, come on, let's go over the set again."

Nikita glanced at her hand where Michael had kissed her, and wiped it across her leg.

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

Chapter 15

Two weeks passed and Nikita had not seen Michael. She had sent an immediate message to Madeline advising about her suspicions regarding Michael's expertise. The reply from Madeline had stated:

'We are aware that Mr. Samuelle exhibits certain traits for which he professes to know nothing.' End message.

What on earth did she mean by that?

The next day, Nikita had been called to Madeline's office and told she would not be training him in martial arts, ordinance or physical fitness. He was working 8 hours a day in TechCom and then 4 hours learning tactical and strategic planning.

She had returned to her office, somewhat relieved but also with a strange nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach. She should call Adrian Maxwell to plead about being recalled for field service duty. The tightness in her stomach made her decide to wait a few weeks, possibly to get more courage or more likely to see if her work got more bearable in the training center.

Madeline had advised Nikita she would be assigned two new recruits, namely a thirty year old English recruit called Taylor James and a thirty-five year old Irish recruit called MaryAnn McGuire.

Nikita welcomed the new recruits and they got down to work immediately. She felt relieved to not be matching wits with Michael Samuelle but did find herself wandering by TechCom to glimpse him working. On one occasion, he looked up and smiled; she quickly dashed off down the corridor.

David Majors had called her every day since the night they spent together. She had told him emphatically - their relationship was over and she did not care to see him again. He had pleaded with her, asking over and over what he had done wrong. She simply replied, it was not him - she just needed to be alone...with no man in her life.

This was the first day he had not called. As Nikita sat typing reports on her computer, she thought:

I guess he got the message...maybe I was too hard on him...no! Not again!

She jumped at the sound of her phone.

"Nikita Jones," she stammered.

It was Adrian Maxwell's assistant.

What could the head of MI-6 southern hemisphere operations want with her - maybe chew her out again! And she had been too frightened to ask for her field status to be returned.

"Yes, fine - this afternoon at 3pm. I'll be there," sputtered Nikita.

One hour before Nikita received her phone call from Adrian Maxwell, Madeline had sat arguing with her superior.

"I understand we are short staffed, Mrs. Maxwell. We have stepped up recruitment but I feel Ms. Jones has not demonstrated competent proficiency for handing a mission this complicated. Look at the mess on the Bahamian undercover. I can't accept you stating there were extenuating circumstances. What is the true reason, you want to put her back in the field? Ha! As I expected - but simply because her father is head of Center, does not imply she is competent." (She paused) "I have read her file! And just because she performed many undercover missions for Section One, does not mean she is up to our standard. Fine! Fine...I understand you have the last say! But putting the two of them together on a high profile mission like Trojan Horse is folly. He has no experience in the field - his expertise is on computer hacking alone. For one thing - how do you expect him to extract intel from the contessa? She will see through him immediately - or perhaps you would like Ms. Jones to seduce the contess!...........I apologiz

e Mrs. Maxwell. I just feel your choice of agents is wrong for this mission. Yes, I understand. You will update her on the mission profile and facts - I will advise her of the valentine operative training she is to perform on the new recruit. Yes...goodbye."

Madeline slammed down her telephone.

What was the woman thinking! Nikita Jones and Michael Samuelle on a high profile mission - ridiculous! The mission would fail - fail completely and MI-6 would be the laughing stock of the intelligence community..

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

Chapter 16

The next morning, as Nikita approached Madeline's office, she thought about her meeting with Adrian Maxwell. She had left the MI-6 head office, confused. Adrian had simply advised of her status being upgraded to field agent again and then presented her with a disc outlining the profile and background for the upcoming mission: it involved a money laundering operation in Italy. Adrian had not gone into any details, she simply stated: 'the facts and objectives were all contained on the disc and Nikita would obtain more directives from Madeline.'

What had brought about the sudden status change? All Adrian had suggested was a shortage of qualified agents and given her Section experience, she was the next most qualified to undertake the mission. She should feel excited and grateful for returning to field status ...but for some reason...she had this nagging feeling in her stomach again....

What Nikita did not know was that Adrian Maxell had the previous evening, engaged in a heated conversation with Philip Jones, head of Center. He was furious his daughter had been relegated to working as a trainer. Adrian had humored him and then agreed to upgrade his daughter's status. She had also agreed to have dinner with him the following evening and given her divorce had finally gone through, she was actually looking forward to the intimate tete-a-tete. Philip Jones was somewhat older than her, but a handsome man, and indeed very powerful. Adrian Maxwell was attracted to powerful men.

As Nikita was about to knock, the electric door to Madeline's office swung open. Madeline sat behind her desk, typing on the computer keyboard.

"Come in Nikita, I've been expecting you. Please be seated. Would you like some herbal tea?"

"Ahh, yes, that would be nice, thanks."

Madeline poured the tea into small oriental cups and handed Nikita one. She smiled, that Madeline smile, that sent shivers down one's spine.

"So Nikita - how did your meeting go at Headquarters with Adrian Maxwell?"

"Fine, I guess. All she told me was I was returning to field status and gave me a disc with the profile and objectives for a mission. I reviewed it last night after the meeting. It appears to be a somewhat involved mission. Perhaps I can work together with another agent or two. I feel we could expedite the profile quicker and more efficiently."

Madeline sipped her tea, then placed the cup on the desk; she smiled.

"Did Adrian advise who you were to report to on this mission?"

"Well, I...assume to her."

"Incorrect. She is in charge of southern hemisphere operations. While there is a certain amount of overlap in jurisdictions, she should have told you all intel and communications will be directed through me."

"You? I...I don't understand."

"The head of European operations is on leave until next month. Until then you will report to me and once he has returned, you will still direct everything through me. I will relay all information to him."

"Who is the current European director?"

"Mr. Declan Quinn. So, you understand the line of communications?"

"Ah, yes...fine."

"Now in regard to your request for other agents to work with you. You will in fact be working with another new agent. But your request does concern me Nikita. Do you feel unqualified to undertake this mission? If so, I must report the fact to Adrian immediately so we can assign another agent."

"No! No...I can..I am qualified. I just feel due to the scope and technical complexities - working with an agent versed in money laundering and computer science would be advantageous."

Again, Madeline smiled. "Well, you are fortunate. You will be working with your former recruit, Michael Samuelle. He possesses the technical skills required."

"What? Michael Samuelle...but...he's hardly a qualified agent. In fact, he's a criminal!"

"Yes, but a criminal who has the best skills for the mission."

"Yes...but...I havent' seen him...I thought he had been released or sent to prison...I know he was still working in TechCom but...."

"His training in martial arts and munitions was complete. You did a satisfactory job with him. Now, I admit - he would not be my first choice to send out into the field, but - alas - he possesses the technical skills."

"Madeline...I don't think he can possibly perform to standard - not on a complicated mission like this. I trust you've seen the profile...he...."

"Yes, I have seen the profile. And you are correct; he does lack experience in one aspect of the mission profile - and that is performing as a valentine operative. An addendum has been added to the profile, requiring a male operative to seduce the Contessa de Albruzzi. You no doubt have read about her involvement in the money laundering activities."

"What? No I never received the addendum."

"Oh, never mind...I will have a copy sent to your computer. Yes, and you also will be required to perfom valentine operations with her husband."

"But...but...this was never stated...."

"I have added this to the profile in the absence of Declan Quinn's input."

"Ahhhh, I see. And when is he returning from vacation?"

"That is not important right now. You have some important last minute training to undertake - namely to teach Mr. Samuelle how to perform as a valentine operative."

"WHAT! Oh, no...I don't think that's possible...I...!"

"I beg your pardon! So...are you refusing this mission?"

"No, of course not...it's just...I'm sure he will be able to function...ah, seduce a woman...as I reported before, he is more than he appears. I don't think he has any fear of women...I..."

"I agree, but he needs instruction in field mechanics of valentine techniques, namely seducing and extracting intel."

"Ahhhh...I....suppose...but..."

Madeline scribbled an address on a piece of paper and handed it to Nikita.

"Here is Michael Samuelle's loft address. Contact him and commence instruction."

"He doesn't live here at the training center?"

"No, he moved into his own quarters last week. We allowed him to obtain his own living accommodation as a reward for working so well in TechCom. His cell phone number is also there."

"Ahhhhhhh...oh....I...."

"So, that seems to be everything for now Nikita. If you have questions, please direct them to me and you best get started immediately, we have a narrow window on this one."

"There're all small windows," muttered Nikita.

"What?"

"Nothing...I'll contact him right away...bring him...ah, up to speed. I've already started outlining the logistics, the tactical...I hope that is okay."

"Fine. Thank you for adjusting to our way of working Nikita...and good luck."

Madeline swung around to face her computer as Nikita got up to leave.

Nikita wandered down the hallway to her office. She sat and booted up her computer. Madeline had forwarded the 'so-called' addendum.

What was going on? She must have some agenda of her own on this. Sure, Michael Samuelle had the computer skills and background regarding money laundering, especially in Italy...but why was Madeline running this mission? Did she have some ulterior motive other than covering for Declan Quinn, the head of European operations? And as far as working with Michael Samuelle...oh my gawd! How can I pull that off! Forget teaching him valentine op techniques...I'm sure he can fake it. And why...why do I have to get involved in seducing a man for intel! I hate that! I can't do it!

Nikita put her head in her hands and bit her lower lip.

Suck it up Nikita...you wanted a mission in the field - you have it! Concentrate on the tactical and strategy of the mission...downplay the valentine aspect. Now - where is that phone number for Michael Samuelle?

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

Chapter 17

Nikita had left repeated messages on Michael's cell phone service throughout the following day. He had finally responded via recorded message:

'Please come to my loft to discuss the upcoming mission at 4pm tomorrow: atmosphere at MI-6 too oppressive: I work better surrounded by my own space.

As Nikita maneuvered her Porsche towards the old docks area, north of the Thames River, she thought to herself:

Just who the hell does this guy think he is! MI-6 is giving him too much freedom, given his criminal record!

She pulled her car over and scanned a map of the wharf district. This area was a very old part of London, with buildings located on and around old docks, wharves and warehouses. It had become a very trendy area with art galleries and design museums. Many of the old buildings had been converted into lofts for artists, writers and musicians.

Nikita negotiated her vehicle off Mill Street and turned on Bermondsey Walk. She squinted at the scrap of paper with Michael's address, and wheeled the car onto an old dock called Concordia Wharf.

Squeezing her Porsche between two large waste bins, she shook her head.

Gawd! What kind of dump is he living in?

She parked the car at the entrance to an old freight elevator, engaged the anti-theft device and strolled up onto an old wooden platform.

Damn this man...why did I agree to meet him here! All training and mission updates should be taking place at MI-6. And damn Madeline for making me go through this...I'm not a trainer...especially trying to train a criminal computer geek to be a field operative!

Nikita scanned the scrap of paper and eyed the number 5159 penned with a black felt marker on a piece of faded wood.

"Well, I guess this is it," she frowned.

She glanced up and down the narrow street way. "Hope the Porsche is still here when I get back...glad I wore leather pants and top, in case I have to go into mission mode."

Lifting the wooden frame of the freight elevator, Nikita stepped inside and then closed it. She pushed a brass button for the third floor. The lift moved slowly, creaking its way upward and stopped with a loud clank as it reached the third floor. She lifted the double frame doors and took one careful step inside. Her trained eyes quickly took in the scene.

The cavernous space held very little furniture. In one corner sat a large oak table with two computers. The high vaulted ceiling was strung with assorted ropes and trolleys that no doubt has been used for hoisting goods when the building had been a warehouse.

Nikita took another step into the large room and called out.

"Hello! Hello!"

"Over here," came a barely audible whisper.

Michael watched as Nikita made her way around a pile of wooden crates. She halted in her tracks.

He stood before her, wearing only a pair of jeans. Moisture glistened on his chest and tiny beads of water slipped from the auburn curls onto his shoulders.

He began pouring wine into two long-stemmed glasses held at waist level. He lifted the bottle high, the red liquid streaming into the crystal.

Nikita's eyes were riveted to the wine glasses; the red liquid and the enticing package behind the fluted crystal. After filling the wine goblets, Michael reached out with both glasses in one hand and smiled.

"Welcome to my humble home."

Nikita's shaking hand took a glass and brought it to her lips. She thought to herself:

Damn man! He knows exactly the affect his is achieving...must have just come from the shower, throws on some tight jeans...this guy is no blushing computer geek.

She interrupted her own thoughts, took a big swallow of wine and blurted out:

"....then I must be early or do you always walk around barefooted with wet hair!"

"Ahh, caught out. Yes, I was having a shower and heard the lift."

And grabbed the tightest pants you could find.

Nikita's eyes were torn between watching the water dance onto his muscular shoulders and the bulge at the front of his jeans.

Your attempt at this little head game will not work on me Michael Samuelle. And just what the hell is going on - one day you are a straight laced computer geek and now this.

She took another drink of wine and swallowed hard.

"So Michael are you rehearsing some new moves, hoping to become a valentine operative?"

He sipped his wine slowly and smiled. "I am sorry, I do not understand."

"Oh, I think you understand alright!"

"Have I offended you in some way? I apologize if my attire is inappropriate - I was out having a run and was in the shower when I heard the lift. Let me go and put on a shirt."

"No! No....your attire is...is fine...it doesn't bother me at all," stammered Nikita

"Well, come over here," he motioned with a damp, outstretched arm. "I have a futon sofa...you will be more comfortable."

Nikita followed him to the other side of the cavernous room. She fought to keep her eyes off the rear of his jeans. He motioned her to the sofa, and she sat down, crossing her legs tightly. He stood before her; her eyes at his waist level. She didn't know where to look.

"Ahhh..aren't you going to sit down too," she said nervously.

He laughed, "Sorry, I only have the one small futon."

"Well, for gawd sakes, sit on the floor or something!"

Michael dragged over a wooden crate and sat, his legs open, the waist of the jeans resting snuggly on his hips.

"I am very glad you accepted my offer to come here to continue my training. I find the atmosphere at MI-6 rather oppressive."

"Yes...yes," stammered Nikita.

Gawd! Why am I so flustered!

She fought to get her thoughts under control as Michael reached over and topped up her wine glass.

"So Nee-kee-ta, please accept my humble apologies for offending you two weeks ago in the self-defense gym. I certainly did not mean to make you angry or offend you."

"Ahhh...well, you definitely know more about martial arts than you represent."

"I did not wish to hurt you or offend in any way and as I stated before, my performance was purely beginner's luck."

"Well, I will not be made a fool of again! But...well, we have to work together. I trust you have received information on the mission MI-6 has planned for you...and...ah, me."

"Yes, Madeline and Mrs. Maxwell has forwarded a disc with the parameters of a money laundering mission in Italy. So, we will be working together on this mission?"

"Yes...ah, yes, but there is an addendum added...by Madeline. There is a valentine component...ah, for you...well, me too."

"Oh - I see. Will this be difficult?"

"I...ah...I will be honest with you Mr. Samuelle...I have always found valentine missions difficult...but there are procedures to follow...and I...ah, will show you them."

"Thank you. Will I be required to seduce a woman or man?"

"WHAT? No...no, a woman! The contessa Albruzzi...as mentioned in the profile for the mission."

"That will be much easier...I'm not sure if I could seduce a man."

"Ahhhhhhhhh...no...ha...I get to do that part!"

"It seems to me it is more difficult for a woman to perform this valentine operation...having to sleep with a man she finds distasteful."

"Well...like I said, I have always found these type of missions difficult, but...ah, the same could be said for a male agent. Ahhh, having to perform....ahhhh...."

"Be sexually aroused?"

"Ahhh, yes...that too. But, keeping one's emotions out of the equation is the difficult part...you think you can...ahhh, manage that?"

"That is easier for men...sex is just sex...using sex and seduction to extract intel, while not a task some men are comfortable with, can nevertheless be attained."

"Good...you, ah seem to understand the...ah, concept, so I...I won't have to show you any techniques...good, so...I think that covers it for now. We can get together tomorrow at MI-6 to go over the whole profile."

"But I do not know how to seduce a woman to extract intel."

"What? But you...look I'm sure you can fake it. Just sweet talk the lady and get her to give up the intel."

"You make it sound very easy. I would appreicate if you could show me some techniques."

Oh my God! I can't do this...is he for real!

"Look Mr. Samuelle..."

"Michael...please call me Michael."

"Look, ah Michael, this is not really my area of expertise...I am sure you will do fine once you get started. I understand the contessa is a beautiful woman, so the task will be easier for you."

"And the man you have to seduce? Is he handsome?"

"Well, not really but that doesn't matter...I will fake it somehow."

"You are a very good agent Nee-kee-ta. But please - just show me a few little tricks."

"Oh...fine! But please, go put on more clothes...I feel a little uncomfortable showing you...."

"Thank you. I will just put on a sweater...is that okay?"

"Yes...yes, a sweater...and maybe some shoes."

"Shoes! Are my feet...?"

"Oh, forget the shoes...just some clothes on top then!"

"I will be right back."

Michael got up and walked behind a partition to an area that posed as his bedroom. He opened a drawer, pulled out a dark blue ribbed sweater, and pulled it over his head. He returned to find Nikita pacing up and down; he stood watching her, his presence undetected.

She stripped off her leather jacket and tossed it on the sofa, then pulled her hair over a white tank top, so it flowed over her bare shoulders. Suddenly, she walked to the large window that overlooked the Thames Rivers.

Whewww...is it hot in here? What the hell am I doing...I can't do this....

Michael walked quietly up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

"I love to watch the boats on the river at night," he whispered. "....the lights, the glow of the moon on the water."

Her shoulders tightened with the touch of his hands; she inhaled her breath.

"Ahhhh...I didn't hear you come back...so, okay, pretend I'm the contessa."

"I am not certain of the intel I need to extract from you...how should I start?"

"Make me feel comfortable, act like you are interested in me...you need to do that before trying to extract intel."

"So I try to seduce her?"

"Well, ahhhh...yes, sort of...."

"Okay, how does this sound. Contessa - you have the most beautiful blue eyes - I could lose myself in the depth of them."

Michael turned Nikita around and kissed both her hands gently. He then stopped abruptly.

"That was wrong...we should have some seductive music...wait."

Nikita stood breathing deeply and attempting to swallow. "Fine...good idea...I'll just have another drink of wine."

She filled her glass and drank half as Michael returned to face her. The sounds of slow, sexy jazz filled the loft.

"Let us start again Nee-kee-ta."

Michael took Nikita in his arms and began dancing slowly; he lifted his hand to her face and outlined her eyebrow, and stroked her lips with his fingertip. She rocked gently in his arms, her breathing coming in short stabs, her heart pounding. Michael placed his left arm around the small of Nikita's back and stroked her spine while with his right hand, he reached down and began stroking her thigh.

"You are a very beautiful woman Nee-kee-ta...being a valentine operative with you is too easy."

Nikita pulled away quickly. She was having great difficulty breathing.

"I think you have the knack of it...you will do fine...now I should go...so...tomorrow, at MI-6, we will go over the whole mission profile...ahh...my office at 8am...that...that sound good to you?"

"Yes - I will be there. And thank you for teaching me how to be a valentine agent."

"Ahhh...sure thing...you will be fine...I'll just go now...see myself out...goodnight."

Nikita grabbed her jacket and made her way quickly to the lift, pulling up the twin frame doors. Michael stood smiling and lifted his hand.

"Good night Nee-kee-ta. Thank you again."

Nikita stabbed at the brass buttons, attempting to force the lift to move. Once she had disappeared, Michael walked to his computers and clicked one on. He sat before the screen and typed in passwords to access an encrypted site. After accessing the site, he typed the words:

>>>>>>>>>>Operation Pitchfork commencing>>>>>>>infiltration MI-6 mission Trojan Horse proceeding>>>>>>>>>still feel approach impractical>>>>>>>>will advise when operation is active in Italy>>>>>>>>>>

Michael logged off and shut down the computer. He poured more wine in his glass and wandered to the window where he stood watching a barge on the river.

This agent Nikita Jones is very beautiful...she must not become a distraction...but I also must not compromise her position. There is something special about her....her integrity, honesty and also...her smile, her blue eyes...the curve of her....non! Non! Merde! I should try to get her removed from the mission...but...that would draw attention to....awwww....I must not be distracted!

Michael drained the remaining wine from his glass. The river barge had disappeared into the night.