The heat of the sun was so intense, Michael could feel his skin tanning. Unfortunately, he would have to shed his black clothing sooner or later. He turned around to give Nikita a hand out of the demolished airplane. After completing their mission, they had been forced to make a crash landing after it was discovered that a bullet hole to the fuel tank had caused a leak. Michael frowned when he realized that Martin, another op, was already helping Nikita out of the plane. True, she hadn't spared him a glance. Her wide blue eyes were taking in the glorious landscape of the deserted island. Martin, on the other hand, was unashamedly taking in Nikita's form fitting black jumpsuit. Michael scowled as five other male operatives lumbered out of the crashed vehicle. Seven men to one woman, he thought. Michael decided he had better stake his claim first. Moving deliberately toward Nikita, he wrapped a possessive arm around her shoulders.

"Are you all right?" he asked. His green eyes expertly roved over her form in search of any injuries she might have sustained from the crash.

"I'm fine," she said, blushing slightly at his appraisal of her.

"Good," Michael nodded gruffly. "Go set up camp."

He strode ahead, leaving a bewildered Nikita behind him. Michael, confidant that she would obey his order, set his mind on contacting Section. So immersed at the task at hand, he didn't notice the blonde man approach Nikita.

"This is some place," Sean remarked, coming up to Nikita. He easily hoisted two equipment packs over his wide shoulders, and then gave her a brilliant white smile.

Nikita smiled back. "Yes, it's beautiful."

"Michael doesn't seem to appreciate this place though," said Sean.

Nikita shook her head. "No. But I'm sure he's got a lot on his mind. He probably wants to make sure we have closure on this mission."

Sean brushed away her defense of Michael. "I think he just doesn't know how to loosen up. After all, we are on a deserted island in the middle of nowhere. Perfect place for a little R&R. I'd be praying Section doesn't come for us at all. However, Michael's probably going to contact Operations right away. Wouldn't you rather hang around here and do some sunbathing?"

Nikita hesitated. A vacation did sound very enticing. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been to a beach. But before she could answer, Michael's brusque voice broke into their conversation.

"Nikita," he said sharply. "I thought I told you to set up camp."

Nikita almost took a step back at Michael's fierce expression. Why was he so angry?

"I was just about to," she said, moving away from Sean.

"Now wait just a minute," said Sean, grasping Nikita's arm at the elbow. He glared at Michael. "Just where do you get off ordering people around on neutral territory? The mission's over Michael. You're no longer team leader."

"Until we reach Section, we don't have closure. I still have command of this team," Michael countered.

"We'll see about that," said Sean, even as Michael turned away in a dismissive gesture of authority.

Nikita looked warily at the two men.

"Sean, let go of me," she said.

Sean looked down at her, pausing a moment before he released her arm.

"We shouldn't have to do his grunt work," he stated firmly.

Nikita shook her head. "I trust him," she said. "And we can't stay here forever, Sean."

Sean grinned humorlessly as he watched her delectable backside moving away from him.

"We'll see about that."

Michael tapped away at his laptop, not believing what Birkoff was telling him

"A week!" he typed.

"Transport is tied down with the Alvarez mission," Birkoff responded. "I'll try to see if I can juggle some things around so you can get off the island sooner. But until then, I suggest you hang loose."

"Hang loose?" Michael muttered.

"What's that suppose to mean?" he typed.

"See you in seven days!" Birkoff signed off.

Michael growled. Really, this was getting very infuriating. First, Nikita had begun parading around in her sports bra. Then, it was discovered that the main food source of the island was bananas. Michael hated bananas. And now, Michael had to lounge around on a tropical island for seven days. Granted, that wasn't such a terrible chore. Especially since he had Nikita with him. Unfortunately, there were also six other men on the island, and Nikita was getting way too much attention from them.

Michael sighed and closed up his laptop. He trudged back to the campsite which consisted of a couple of sleeping pads surrounding a central fire. It was getting late, but the air was still very humid. Michael pulled at his black tank top. Maybe he should take it off. After all, he noted, all the other men were down to just their boxer shorts. He pulled the cloth over his head, and his vision was obscured when Nikita stepped into the camp. Nevertheless, he could still hear. Yes, he could still hear the low appreciative whistles that came from the six male operatives. Michael flung the rest of his shirt off. His face hardened as his keen eyes took in the sight before him. Nikita, already bared to her sports bra, had tied her tank top around her waist in a makeshift skirt. But to Michael, she might as well have been naked. He watched, enraged, as the other male operatives openly stared at Nikita's body.

"Nikita!" he barked out.

She turned, her smile dying on her sunburnt lips as she saw her former mentor's scowl.

"Yes?" she said.

"Operations wants to speak to you," Michael lied.

He gripped her elbow as she came to his side and led her away from the campsite.

"Ouch! Michael, I don't have my shoes on," Nikita protested when he led her onto a rocky path.

She barely had time to eke out a shout before Michael swiftly tossed her over his broad shoulder and proceeded on his way. Nikita groaned as she watched the world turn upside down. She wiggled around to get comfortable, but stopped abruptly when she felt Michael's hand on her thigh.

"Keep still," he ordered.

"I think I'm going to throw up," said Nikita.

Michael quickly set her back onto her feet and watched impassively as she stumbled backwards two awkward steps before finally tripping over a vine. She landed on her rear with a thud and a curse.

"Just what do you think you were doing?" Michael demanded, his hands on his hips.

"What?" Nikita looked up in confusion at his towering form. Then she scrambled to get back onto her feet.

"You," he jabbed a finger at her, and she retreated back a step. "Parading around in nothing but your brassiere and a flimsy piece of cloth tied around your waist.."

"It's too hot to wear anything more," said Nikita, her blue eyes flashing. She folded her arms across her chest. "What are you? My father?"

Michael grimaced inwardly at the images her words conquered up.

"If I were, I'd have you over my knee right now," he said.

Nikita laughed shortly, then stopped when she saw how serious his expression was.

Michael cleared the space between them until his nose brushed against hers.

"I'm warning you," he breathed, "You're mine. Stop playing around with those boys."

Nikita glared at him and moved to back away when his arm snaked around her waist to hold her fast against his body. She gasped as his whole length pressed against hers.

"I don't belong to you, or anybody else," she managed to sputter.

She pressed her hands against his bare chest to push herself away. Big mistake. Michael's hold on her only tightened.

"Michael," she breathed, lost in the intensity of his green eyes.

His lips moved in to flutter against her cheekbone, then light as a tropical breeze he moved downward, pressing smaller butterfly kisses against her skin until he reached her mouth.

"Here?" Nikita heard herself question with uncertainty.

She moaned deep in her throat when he answered with a hard, bruising kiss that robbed her of any more words. She heard him laugh, a deep masculine chuckle of satisfaction.

But before she could pull away in indignation, he was lowering her to the ground, cradling her body in his capable hands and arms.

"Mine," he declared again, before taking her mouth in his.

Martin hacked away manfully at the coconut. After twenty minutes, all he had to show for his efforts was a slightly dented knife, and no coconut meat. He sighed. Hopefully Sean's fishing expedition would bring them some food.

"Dammit Daniels!" Sean's voice rang across the island.

Martin looked up to see Sean and the rest of his fishing crew trudging back to camp.

"Get that hook out of my face!" Sean shouted.

"No luck?" Martin asked.

"There's nothing in this sea but rocks," said Sean, throwing down his makeshift fishing pole.

"I've got some more bananas!" Nikita's carefree voice helped ease away some of the men's frustrations.

They watched as she unloaded her yellow bundle.

"Gee Nikita," said Martin. "You sure have a knack for climbing trees."

"Oh, it's easy," she said.

The men watched hungrily as she carefully peeled a banana.

"Hi Michael!" she said in a cheerful voice, oblivious to her audience.

"I found a freshwater lagoon two kilometers from camp," said Michael. He tossed out several filled canteens to the operatives. "

"Great," said Daniels. "I could really use a bath after that fishing expedition."

"Oh me too," Nikita agreed, offering him a banana.

Michael gave her a look before continuing. "We can make a trip there now before nightfall," he said.

The men agreed in a chorus of affirmatives. They had only been on the island for three days, but the hot weather had definitely increased the stench of body odor.

"Where do you think you're going?" Michael asked, placing a hand on Nikita's shoulder.

"To the lagoon," she replied. "With everyone else."

"No," he said. "I need someone here to watch camp. I'll take you there tomorrow morning."

"Michael," she protested. "My hair's a wreck, and this mud sunscreen you made for me is making my skin itch. I need a bath. Besides, there's no one on the island. And Section's not due for at least another four days. It's not like someone's going to come and steal our stash of bananas."

"Nikita."

"Michael."

Michael winced. Her big blue eyes stared pleadingly at him.

"Fine," he relented. He would just have to make sure she bathed in a secluded area where none of the other operatives could see her.

He watched Nikita chat brightly with Martin and Daniels. She acted as if they were going to a beach. Michael's eyes narrowed when he saw her lightly punch Martin on the shoulder. She was laughing at a joke the operative had just made. Michael wondered if he could talk Nikita into bathing with her clothes on, just in case.

"Oh Michael," Nikita gushed. "This is so beautiful!"

The operatives murmured their agreement. The lush foliage of the jungle nestled around the cerulean bowl of water was postcard perfect.

"Nikita," said Michael, grabbing hold of her arm. "There's a smaller pond down here you can bathe in."

He led her around a gentle waterfall that trickled down a slab of granite, and pointed to a tiny stream which led to another of pool of water that was surrounded on all sides by rock.

"I'll come back for you in five minutes," he said.

"Okay," Nikita agreed, not really hearing what he was saying. She was so enthralled with this little piece of heaven. Amused, Michael watched as she slipped off her mission boots and dipped her toes into the clear water. Her face crinkled with pleasure.

Michael felt his groin tighten. All he wanted to do now was sit and watch this beautiful creature bathe. Nevertheless, he knew that the best way to make sure none of the other operatives were playing peeping Tom, was to watch them himself. Sighing, he turned away just as Nikita slipped the rest of her clothing off.

"I wonder if Michael's gonna join us," Martin asked out loud.

"Probably not," said Sean. "I saw him go off with Nikita, and we all know what that means!"

The men chuckled with raucous laughter. They quickly choked off their amusement when they saw the iceman himself appear at the edge of the lagoon. Quickly turning back to the mundane task of bathing, the men pretended nothing had happened and gave Michael the privacy to slip out of his attire. Conversation was minimal as each man concentrated on himself and the beautiful surroundings.

Meanwhile, Nikita was turning somersaults in her own little pond. Her laughter tinkled the jungle air as she scrubbed furiously at her skin, trying to rub off all the mud Michael had plastered onto her. "You have fair skin," he had told her. "Burns easily. You need this for protection."

Nikita flipped onto her back and backpedaled a distance, admiring to the clear blue cloudless sky above her. The sound of twigs breaking caused her to stop and sink back into the water. Pulse racing, she quickly scanned the surroundings for any intruders.

"Michael?" she called out. Silence answered her.

Not wanting to be at a disadvantage should there really be an enemy; Nikita pulled herself out of the pond and pulled on her tank top. She crouched cautiously, feeling like a cat as she listened again for signs of an intrusion. Suddenly an arm snaked around her waist, pulling her hard against a wet body.

Swiveling her neck, Nikita turned to meet Sean's cold gray eyes.

"Hello Nikita."

Nikita tensed, feeling Sean's hand on her stomach creep down between her legs. She wondered if he was armed. Their mission in Prague had ended in an all-out shoot out where the operatives had used up all their ammunition. However, she knew it wasn't beneath Sean to keep a little extra ammo on hand.

"You're beautiful," he breathed into her ear.

Swiftly, Nikita jabbed her elbow into his abdomen. He groaned, but his hold her only tightened. Anticipating this, Nikita simultaneously jammed the heel of her foot onto his toe while snapping her head back to smash his nose in. She screamed, hoping Michael would hear her. Then, squirming in Sean's hold, she managed to slip her hand down his shorts to grab hold of his organ. This time it was Sean's turn to scream as she brought him to his knees with one practiced twist of her hand.

"Oh hi Michael," she said, watching her team leader race toward her, concern and fury blended to perfection on his sculpted features.

"Nikita," he said, resting his shaking hands onto her shoulders. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she said, curling into the strong shelter of his arms.

Michael cupped her head to his chest. Then his glittering green eyes took in, with disgust, the scene of Sean writhing in agony on the ground.

"Come on," he said. "Let's get out of here." He took Nikita's elbow and started to lead her away when suddenly the jungle erupted in a chorus of high screeches. A flood of primitive warriors appeared out of nowhere to encircle them.

"Michael!" Nikita gasped when she was wrenched out of his grasp by two men clad only in paint and leaves.

Michael lunged for her, but stopped when he felt the prick of five spears on his body. He raised his hands, knowing that violence was not always the best way to deal with natives. He would wait and learn before choosing the best course of action. He stared into Nikita's frightened eyes, willing her to calm down. She got his message and instantly stopped struggling.

Silent, Michael stood still while his hands were bound behind his back. He watched as Sean was treated in a similar manner. Curiously, the natives did not treat Nikita like a captive. Instead, they milled around her, stroking her blonde hair and plucking at her clothing. Then, apparently satisfied, they stopped. With a rousing shout, they began to move onward into the jungle, prodding Michael and Sean forward with them. Confused, Nikita stood where she was left behind, not knowing if she should follow.

"Go back to camp!" Michael ordered over his shoulder.

He strained his neck to try and get one last glimpse of Nikita, but his sight was obscure by the mud caked hand which covered his face.

"Giou," the native barked at him.

Falling back into step, Michael shifted the ropes around his wrist until the knot was freed. He would bide his time. Hopefully Nikita would be safe for now.

For the next hour, Michael trudged through the dense jungle, stopping only once to get a drink of water from a muddied stream. Finally, when he was beginning to feel the first twinges of fatigue in his muscles, they reached their destination. Genuinely impressed, Michael took his time taking in the medium sized village that stretched out before him. It was primitive, yes, but clearly well organized. There was a central well to provide freshwater, several large, sturdy huts, and even an adobe building, which appeared to be three stories high. The natives marched Michael and Sean down the central pathway that cut through the village.

"What is this place?" Michael heard Sean mutter beside him.

Michael ignored him, still seething from the operative's earlier attack on Nikita. When this ordeal was done, he would see to it, personally, that Sean would pay for his transgression.

The warriors brought them to a shallow cave at the edge of the village. Leading the operatives to a tiny slit, which served as the entrance, the warriors shoved their captives into the darkness.

"Michael! Sean!"

Michael strained his eyes to see the rest of the male operatives getting up from their sitting positions to meet him.

"They caught us when we were getting out of the lagoon," Daniels explained. "We tried to overpower them even though we were outnumbered. They only had spears and sling shots."

"Or so we thought," Martin interjected. "They shot us with these darts that were dipped in some sort of tranquilizer. Knocked us out cold. Next thing I knew I was lying on rock."

"Where's Nikita?" one of the operatives asked.

"Back at the camp," said Michael.

"She managed to escape?" Martin asked.

"No," Michael answered. "The natives released her. I don't know why."

He folded his arms, his face pensive. Besides him, Sean stood, sullen and silent.

"From what I gathered from the surroundings, we've encountered a primitive civilization that has not yet come into contact with the modern world," said Michael. "That is surprising considering our advanced forms of transportation and communications. However, what's even more surprising is how this tribe has managed to survive all these years in the wilderness."

"What's so surprising about that?" asked Daniels.

Michael paused. "Because when I entered the village, I did not see any females."

"Either did we," said Martin. "But maybe they're just hiding away in their kitchens 'cuz they're afraid of us." He shrugged.

"Perhaps," said Michael. He rubbed his chin pensively. He thought about how strangely the natives had reacted to Nikita. Almost as if she was an exotic breed of animal that they only encountered on rare occasions.

Peering through the slit etched on the hard rock, Michael saw that two warriors stood guard outside. It wouldn't be too difficult taking them down. Pondering his next move, Michael was jolted out of his thoughts when a container was tossed into the cave. A purple fume spilled out of the container and quickly filled the small area they were in. With matched speed, a heavy rock was swiftly rolled into place, effectively blocking the only exit from the cave. The last thought Michael had before blacking out was whether or not Nikita had made it safely back to camp.

* * * *

Nikita nibbled at her pineapple, keenly aware of the five natives, which stood protectively over her. It had been two days since they had catapulted into the campsite she had been hiding in. They had surrounded her with their spears and started jabbering in their foreign language. Then, despite her struggles, they had lifted her onto an ornate wooden chair and carried her off into the jungle. For the past two days, they had kept her in a small, but clean hut under constant supervision. They had let her out only once, accompanied by ten male escorts, to take her to a cave at the edge of their village. Leading her to the top of the cave, she was allowed to peer in. She had been both shocked and relieved to see Michael, as well as the other male operatives, trapped inside. They had been in a deep slumber. When she called out to them, not even Michael responded. She assumed they had been drugged, and was furious with her captors. They had tried to placate her by showing her that the men were well fed and had not been harmed. Still, Nikita knew she had to find a way to escape and free the other operatives. If only she wasn't always under the watch of so many guards. They were everywhere, even when she had to relieve herself. They had provided her with a cleanly lined hole in the ground. But when she had tried to get them to at least turn around, they had simply stood there, puzzled as if she had requested a telephone.

The natives were clearly a puzzling race. From their bulging muscles and sharpened spears, Nikita had deduced that they were well equipped for conflict. However, they had not been violent toward her. Rather, they stood guard over her as if she was an artifact that might be stolen. On the several occasions that she had tried to escape, they had merely surrounded her with their spears and prodded her back to her hut. Nikita was starting to feel like a cow.

Mkito. Lsa lsa Ind.

At the sound of the voices, Nikita rose from the silken bed she had been lying on. She watched as an exceptionally tall warrior strode into her hut. Now, Nikita was tall for a woman, but this man towered over her at least a good foot. A twinge of apprehension tingled down her spine as she took in the numerous scars that traversed the man's broad, cared chest. This man had certainly had his share of fights.

Kant muh The man spoke made a slicing motion through the air and two more natives scrambled to reach his side. They must be servants, thought Nikita, noting their bare feet and the hemp bags that they carried.

She turned her attention back to the warrior who stood in front of her. He was staring intently at her, his brown eyes roving over every aspect of her body. Nikita was used to this kind of attention, and she dreaded what was to come next.

Durge The man jabbed a finger at his chest, and repeated the word again.

"Durge," Nikita repeated. "Your name is Durge?"

The man nodded solemnly, and Nikita attempted a smile even though the man's face was hard as stone.

"I'm Nikita," she said. She pointed to herself. "Nikita."

The man stared at her for a moment.

Sharee Durge pointed to her.

"Sharee?" Nikita repeated.

The man nodded, apparently satisfied that she had gotten his message.

"Whatever," Nikita muttered.

The man turned to his servants who handed him a silken cloth. Durge showed it to Nikita, then tossed it onto her bed. Nikita glanced at the cloth, then back at Durge.

Okh. Ryyiu He grunted and motioned toward his men.

Four servants brought in a large, rectangular wood box filled with water. The scent of exotic flowers filled the air and Nikita inhaled. Durge turned to her, and Nikita took a step back when she saw the way his eyes glinted.

He wrapped a thick hand around her slender throat and applied pressure. Not enough to choke, but enough to make his intentions clear. With his other hand, he cleanly ripped off her tank top. Once she was completely nude, he released her and took a step back to inspect her. Nikita flushed, feeling the eyes of all the men in the hut on her.

Durge grunted, clearly impressed. Then he jabbed a finger at the wooden tub. Head high, Nikita gracefully settled herself into the lukewarm, but scented, water.

Giou Durge turned on his heel, his entourage of men following after him as he exited the hut. Left with only a few guards that stood silently in the far corners of the hut, Nikita managed to relax somewhat. Fishing around the tub, she managed to find a brown bar of slimy, but effective soap. The natives obviously had plans for her tonight, and Nikita decided that it was high time to make another escape attempt.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The cool, dank air of the cave seeped into every pore of Michael's body as he lay on the dirt ground. Groaning, he managed to push himself up only to wretch out the remnants of the afternoon's meal. He clutched his stomach, trying to banish all thoughts of bananas from his head. That was about he had been given to eat the past three days. Bananas, water, and nuts so hard he swore they were really rocks.

He pressed a hand to his forehead. Tomorrow, Section transport was due to arrive on the island. He had to get back to the campsite. If only he knew where Nikita was. In the dim lighting of the cave, he stumbled into Martin.

"Sorry," the operative muttered.

"It's okay," said Michael. He leaned against a rock slab, trying to regain his strength. Whatever he had been drugged with, it had certainly worked well. His mind was a swirling mess of mush.

"Nikita," he repeated to himself. Where was she? He hoped she was still safe at the campsite, but a part of him knew that the natives had probably found her. He knew she could take care of herself, but one woman against twenty warriors did not bode well. The operatives had used up all their ammunition during their mission in Prague, so their weapons were useless.

Michael knew Nikita had never been especially talented when it came to knives, and besides, one knife against dozens of spears wasn't a match.

The sounds of sickness echoed through the cave, and Michael edged away from Martin when he saw the operative clutching his stomach.

"I'm sorry, sir," he said when he had finished emptying the contents of his stomach.

Michael nodded.

Gounn. Mehyo

The operatives jerked their heads up at the voices coming from the entrance to the cave. Michael closed his eyes at the sunlight which poured in when the guards rolled away the heavy rock that blocked the entrance. Immediately, at least twenty armed warriors flooded into the cave. Michael grit his teeth when a careless spear pricked his back. The natives proceeded to prod the operatives out of the cave. Only Michael and Sean were able to stride along at a regular pace. Weakened by a lack of nourishment and the side effects of the sedative, the other operatives stumbled along, barely able to keep their balance.

Michael scanned the sides of the dirt path they were forced to travel on, his green eyes taking in all possible routes of escape. Behind him, Martin coughed. His lips pressed thinly, Michael decided against abandoning his team. If anything, he was curious as to where the natives were leading them. Perhaps they would take him to Nikita.

The trip into the village took about twenty minutes by foot. By the time they reached the central square, most of the operatives were about to fall over with fatigue. Michael, however, hadn't even broken up a sweat, and Sean's ever-present scowl was still firmly in place. With apprehension, Michael scanned the square. A rather large crowd of natives surrounded the central structure, which consisted of a raised platform obscured from sight by a hemp screen. Staring at the painted faces around him, Michael noted the various differences of dress among the natives. He was able to distinguish between servants and warriors. It looked like the whole village had turned out for whatever event was about to occur. Michael sensed that it was to be a sacrifice. Whether the natives believed in giving animals or humans to the gods, well, that was the question. What really disturbed him however, was the gender of the crowd. It was completely male. Not a single female was in the village. Michael swallowed hard, thinking of the violence that must be generated in such a testosterone filled area. One particular question continued to nag him. Without women, how did these natives reproduce? Perhaps there was another island nearby that was inhabited with females. But if there was, why would the sexes separate themselves?

Suddenly, the crowd hushed, and an eerie silence settled upon the village. Michael's eyes zoomed in on the shadowy figures that had suddenly appeared behind the platform's screen.

"What's going on?" Martin grunted.

In response, a low pounding on several hollow drums began, filling the darkening space with pulsating air. The drumming continued for several minutes until nightfall was completed. Torches were lit and a central fire stoked. Michael shifted his weight, the intensity of the heat making him edgy. Suddenly, the drumming grew louder, and faster, as cheers rose up from the crowd. The hemp screen was lowered. The men behind Michael began pushing forward to get a closer look. Michael, however, stood stone still as he took in the scene before him.

Nikita twisted her arms behind her, her efforts rewarded with a low growl from Durge as he grabbed her shoulder to give her a hard shake. She glared back at him. Her latest escape attempt had encouraged the natives to bind her hands behind her. Now, she was stuck between Durge and another warrior, while a spear prodded her from behind to walk up a series of stone steps. She slipped with a cry as she lost her balance. Completely unsympathetic to her plight, Durge grabbed Nikita by her hair to pull her back up.

"Hey buddy," she protested. "Watch it."

The warrior merely chuckled and patted her rear. Nikita's eyes flashed. In Section One, she was used to being the only female surrounded by various sexist pigs. However, the past few days had been rather intolerable. First Michael's possessive rage, then Sean's sexual assault, then a kidnapping by Neanderthals, enslavement by sex-starved natives, and now this! Where ever they were dragging her, by the sounds of the drumming and murmuring of yet more male voices, Nikita knew it didn't body well for her. Especially not since she might as well be naked in the so-called dress Durge had forced her to wear.

A hard shove to her shoulder blade jolted her upwards. She stumbled onto a stone platform surrounded by a filmy, hemp screen. Squinting, she could make out a rather large crowd that surrounded her on all sides. Cheers rose up from the crowd, and Nikita had the horrible realization that they were cheering for her, or rather, the spectacle she was about to be forced to create. She took a step back, only to be pushed forward by Durge. With a ripping sound, the screen dropped to the ground, exposing her to the jeering crowd.

Like a goddess, Nikita stood, her shining crown of blonde hair floating in the night breeze. Michael saw how she struggled to hold her head high, although her blue eyes threatened to fill with tears. His heart contracted, then his veins nearly exploded with rage when he saw what she was wearing. A mere wisp of a blue cloth was wrapped around her body, the material of the cloth so transparent; Michael could clearly see the outline of her body. Apparently, so could the rest of the crowd. Michael's eyes glittered as he took in the jeering crowd. It was his worst nightmare come true: Nikita, the sole woman trapped on an island filled with sex-starved men, all lusting after her.

Durge placed his hand onto the woman's shoulder. His dark, sun-soaked skin stood out against her pale flesh. He felt her tremble, and his grip tightened, fearful that she might flee from his domain.

Nonwa, Sharee. he whispered in an attempt to calm her.

Durge took a step closer, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair, letting the rhythm of the drums coarse through his soul. His fingers swept up the fragile curve of her neck to grasp the golden strands that danced in the night wind. He pressed his face to her hair, his arm instinctively coming to rest on her hip, bringing her back against his chest so that they were one. Durge sighed with contentment. She was to be his first. The gods had chosen him to carry on the birth tradition. In his dreams, he had seen this woman, and he had known that she would come to him.

Aiiiiyy!!!! the cheers of the crowd rose up like a tidal wave. Durge raised a hand in the air to acknowledge his tribesman, then bending, he swiftly lifted his woman up into his arms. Within moments, a sleeping pad was brought onto the platform. Smiling with pride, Durge reverently laid his precious bundle onto the fragrant bed of fern leaves.

Lon Sharee he whispered, cupping her cheek in his calloused palm.

She was so beautiful, thought Durge. And so fragile! Her white skin was not dark enough to ward off the wrath of the Pere, the sun god. And while its soft texture delighted him, he feared for how easily even the skin of a coconut might bruise her.

The elders had only allowed Durge to see paintings and statues of women. He had never seen, let alone touched, a female in his life before. But all his life he had heard stories of these mythical creatures that lived across the sea. Creatures more beautiful than the sky after a rainfall, with voices more gentle than the whispering waters.

Heart swelling with happiness, Durge fell to his knees. Grasping her leg, he pressed his lips to her knee. So certain of her compliance was he, that when her leg lashed out to slam into his face, he thought it merely an accident, a reflex on her part.

Lundmin, Sharee. Yten ssla mrenu, ponn dr

Durge lowered his body on top of the woman. He felt her fighting against him, but the elders had told him that sometimes a woman was like a wild young dog -instinctively struggling against the master, but docile and obedient once properly trained.

Durge cringed when the woman shrieked in his ears. Her hands were still bound behind her back, but her legs were pummeling his lower extremities.

Suddenly an animalistic war cry pierced the night. A heavy weight crashed into Durge, knocking him to the ground. Flat on his back, Durge looked up into the blackest of green eyes he had everseen. They belonged to a snarling dark warrior, ready, for slaughter.

Kaar Wont Durge ordered the man to release him.

The man did not respond, and Durge realized that this man was one of the strangers the tribe had captured. The man spoke, but Durge could not make of his words. Angrily, Durge threw the manoff him. The man landed effortlessly onto his feet, and proceeded to go to the woman.

Ryiii!!

The stranger had dared to touch the woman. The crowd erupted with anger. Durge strode over to the man, his fist curled back to attack. The man easily thwarted his blows. Durge took a step back, breathing heavily from his exertions. He watched as the stranger placed his hand on top of the woman's head.

Jya mo nowtnn mor. Waai Sharee lou ka One of the elders cried out for the crowd to be silent.

The stranger had dared to make a motion for possession of this woman.

Shock flashed across the harsh planes of Durge's face. HE was the chosen one. Durge had dreamt of this woman, Sharee. She belonged to him, and him alone. Only he had the power to choose mates for his woman, and he certainly wasn't going to allow this stranger to take her.

Byi moou Arrai Kku He issued a challenge to the stranger. The stranger stood for a moment, the blackness of his garments consuming the night's wrath.

Another stranger in the crowd shouted out in a nonsense tongue, but the elders motioned for the man to be restrained.

Durge focused his attention on the dark warrior, waiting for a response. Finally, the man inclined his head ever so slightly in a gesture of acceptance.

AAAiiiyy!!! The crowd erupted in a fury of excitement as they began cheering for victory on the part of Durge. Durge smiled grimly. This stranger did not know whom he would be fighting against. Durge was the prize warrior of the tribe. In spite of his young age, he had already killed five wild boars. Now, he prepared to crush this dark warrior.

Blak Pau He raised his arms into his fighting stance, and the dark warrior proceeded to do the same. Then, as the shouts of the crowd rose to a crescendo, he attacked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Charging forward, Durge landed a blow to the warrior's shoulder. He had aimed for the stranger's skull, but the man had leaned away at the last moment. Durge grunted when the stranger responded by thrusting his fist into Durge's abdomen. Both men took a step back.

The warriors circle each other on the platform, each making their own observations of the opponent's stance. Durge shifted his eyes to the left, and the stranger followed suit. Taking advantage of this brief lapse in concentration, Durge chose this moment to attack again. He lashed his leg out, but the warrior grabbed his heel. Both men fell heavily onto the stone floor of the platform.

Hrziok tyy

Durge struggled to get the man's knee off of his windpipe. He struck the man in the face, momentarily stunning the warrior long enough for Durge to get the upper hand. Having the man beneath him, Durge begin to pummel him with a series of blows. However, the man's reflexes were astounding, and he managed to ward off every point of attack. Suddenly, the warrior reared up, his fist connecting with Durge's chin.

Durge coughed and swayed on his feet. Blood dribbled out from the side of his mouth. Anger pulsing through every pore of his body, Durge threw himself at the warrior.

AAAiiiiyyy!!

The crowd shouted out a warning, but Durge no longer had control of his senses. Heedless of his life, he raced to his end. He knocked the warrior to the ground, a sense of victory flooding his soul when suddenly, shards of pain exploded in his head. The world went dark.

Durge collapsed onto the stones. Feeling nothing, sensing nothing. Just the blackness of night. He breathed deeply, inhaling the sweet scent of flowers.

Sharee

His heart ached with sadness. He was lost in a black world, looking for a woman that was not there. The beat of the drum cursed through his body.

Sharee

The murmurs of the crowd grew louder, calling Durge back from darkness. His eyes opened to slits. The heat of the fires warmed his back.

Nr Sharee lo pounn niq rr

Durge pushed himself off the ground. The crowd cheered for him, but he knew what he must do. He watched as the dark warrior untied the ropes that bound the woman. She whimpered, and that one sound shattered all thoughts of violence from Durge's mind. He went to her, extending a hand toward her, a peace offering. She flinched and turned away from him. She turned to the dark warrior, burrowing her head into his chest, seeking comfort in the circle of his arms. Durge looked away, hurt.

He started to step off the platform, when he felt a hand on his elbow. The dark warrior spoke. Durge could not make of his tongue. But when he looked into the man's eyes, he saw the truth. He saw that the woman belonged to the dark warrior, and him alone. Durge nodded his acceptance He turned away again when a voice cried out his name.

"Durge!"

He turned to see the woman coming toward him. She bent her head, her golden hair spilling forward. Wanting to see her eyes, Durge reached out without thinking. This time she did not turn away when he touched her. Lifting her chin up, Durge drank his fill of the bluest waters in her eyes.

The woman smiled. Gentle as the summer's breeze, she pressed her lips to the hard plane of his cheek.

"Good-bye Durge."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Where the hell are they?" Martin grumbled. He swiped at the sweat gathering on his sunburnt forehead.

Section transport had been due on the island two hours earlier. Due to their rather unpleasant encounter with the natives, all the operatives were anxious to get off the island, even if it meant going back to Section One.

"You want a banana?" Daniels asked.

"Get that thing out of my face before I crack open your skull like a coconut," Martin growled.

"Where are you going Nikita?" Michael asked.

Nikita rolled her eyes. Michael, and the rest of the men, had been treating her like a dog on a leash ever since she had been taken captive by the islanders.

"To find a tree," she said. Placing her hands on her hips, she dared him to comment.

"Oh no you don't," she said. She shook her head vigorously when she saw Michael coming toward her. "Can't a girl get some privacy?"

Michael folded his arms and simply stared at her.

"Michael."

"If you're not back within two minutes I'm coming for you," he informed her.

"Fine." Nikita forced a smile. "I'll keep an eye out for bananas for you."

She flounced away, feeling the heat of Michael's gaze boring into her back.

"Men," she muttered to herself while she untied the sarong around her waist. Out of instinct she quickly scanned the area to make sure that she was indeed alone.

Moments later, she finished. Strolling back toward the campsite, she bent to examine a pretty shell she saw nestled in the sand.

"Hello Nikita."

She whirled around at the condescending voice.

"Sean," she started. "What are you doing here? Did the transport arrive?"

Trying to act nonchalant as she straightened up, Nikita closed her hand over the shell.

Sean smiled as he stalked toward her, purposely invading her personal space.

"That was quite a show," he remarked.

Nikita's face reddened at the implication of his words. His eyes lowered to the sarong wrapped around her waist. Ever so casually, he let his fingers trail down her torso before coming to rest on the tie of her sarong. He played with the flimsy string.

"The natives are certainly very talented," he said. "I wonder how they found the material for this."

"Living in the wild, you have to be resourceful," Nikita said stiffly.

"Yes," Sean agreed. "I understand you lived on the streets for quite awhile. I bet you learned to be very resourceful."

"Sean," said Nikita. "This is sexual harassment. Grounds for abeyance."

"We're not in Section," said Sean. Grasping her hair, he brought her face to his. Nikita turned her head, grimacing when his fingernails dug into her scalp.

Swiftly she brought her knee up, simultaneously grinding the seashell into Sean's eyesocket.

He howled in pain, and responded in kind with a vicious backhand to Nikita's jaw. She fell to the ground.

Suddenly a whistling sound soared through the air. Nikita looked up in time to see a spear lodge itself into Sean's chest. She backed away, horrified as blood spurted forth from Sean's erratically twitching corpse. She screamed when an arm wrapped itself around her midsection.

"Michael!"

"It's okay," he said. "It's over."

He held her trembling body close. Raising a hand in salute, he acknowledged the native's presence.

"Durge?" Nikita lifted her tearful face to see the native standing among the palm trees.

He stood there a moment, before vanishing into the green.

"We have to go," said Michael. "Section transport has arrived."

"Okay," Nikita sniffled. She turned around for one more look at the thicket of palm trees, trying to find a trace of her savior.

Michael swung his arm around her, and began leading her away.

"Let's go."

~~~~

Glancing in the mirror, Nikita expertly brushed away stray tendrils of hair away from her face. After a week on that island, it felt good to be able to doll her self up, not with mud and berries, but Clinique and Cover Girl. She straightened the neckline of her dress. Satisfied, she smiled at her reflection. Sashaying into the kitchen, she arrived just in time to hear a brisk knock on her door. Slipping into her high heels, she smoothed away invisible wrinkles on the satiny material of her blue dress before opening the door.

"Mi - Martin!" she said in surprise.

"Hi, Nikita," the operative ducked his head, embarrassment coloring his rugged features.

Recovering from her shock, Nikita stepped aside.

"Would you like to come in?"

"Don't mind if I do," said Martin. "Um, these are for you," he said, handing her a bouquet of slightly crushed flowers. "Happy V-Day."

"Why thank you," said Nikita. "This is very sweet of you."

She tilted her head to the side and smiled. She moved forward to close her door when another man appeared in her doorway.

"Daniels?"

"Hi Nikita, can we come in?" he said.

"We?"

Nikita's eyes widened when she saw three more male operatives behind Daniels. She recognized them as the operatives who were stranded on the tropical island with her.

"Sure," she said. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Actually," Daniels coughed. "We all came down here to apologize for our behavior on the mission."

"Yeah," said Martin. "Pardon the language, but we were a bunch of asses. The way we treated you wasn't very appropriate."

The other operatives nodded in agreement.

"Well," said Nikita. "I accept your apology." She smiled. "Thank you for coming here to tell me."

"You aren't mad?" Martin asked.

"No, not anymore," said Nikita. She shook her head. "Just promise me, all of you, that the next woman you're with, you act just as nice to her as you are with me now. Remember, flowers and candy may seem old fashioned, but every woman likes to be treated like a lady. Especially on Valentine's Day."

Daniels nodded. "I'll remember that."

The operatives turned at the sound of another knock on Nikita's apartment door. She bit her lip, realizing that a tight circle of robust, seasoned males surrounded her.

"Martin!" she called out, too late.

"It's okay, I can get it," Martin assured her, opening the door.

Scrupulously attired in evening wear, Michael stepped smoothly into the apartment, calmly taking in the scene before him. Nikita blushed, quickly setting Martin's flowers down onto the countertop.

"Michael," she greeted him, awkwardly nudging her way out of the circle of men.

"Nikita," Michael nodded, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder.

"Hi there Michael," said Martin.

"Hello."

"Um, well, nice seeing you Nikita," said Daniels. "Talk to you later."

Picking up his cue, the other operatives, minus Martin, began shuffling out the door.

"Bye," said Nikita, waving enthusiastically.

She lowered her hand at Michael's inquiring gaze.

"Thank you again for the flowers, Martin," she said.

"You sure are welcome," said Martin. "Say, Michael. Are you here to pick up Nikita for a date?"

Nikita paled at Martin's brashness.

"Yes," said Michael.

"How come you didn't bring her flowers and candy?" Martin inquired.

"I'm not in the habit of doing that," Michael replied dryly.

"But it's Valentine's Day," said Martin.

"Martin," Nikita spoke up. "Thank you again for coming, but we really must be going now."

"But you just said. . ."

Nikita patted Martin's shoulder. "I'll see you later Martin," she said, leading him to her door.

"Good-bye Nikita." Looking over he shoulder he said, "Now you treat her real nice Michael."

Shutting the door firmly, Nikita turned around to see Michael clasp his hands in front of him. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"I had no idea you liked flowers and candy," he deadpanned.

Nikita paused. "Well," she said, coming close to him. "I don't need gifts as a reminder of how much you love me."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, bring her face within inches of hers.

"But every woman likes to be treated like a lady," she said in a hushed voice.

She pressed a light kiss to Michael's lips, retreating before he knew what had hit him. Slipping out of the circle of his arms, she took joy in the brief flicker of surprise that danced across his face.

"Of course," said Michael, quickly recovering.

Sweeping up Nikita's evening coat, he held it open in a cavalier manner, helping her slide her arms into it.

With a hand at the small of her back, he led her to her door. He then proceeded to open it with a flourish and a small bow.

"Shall we?" he asked, allowing her to step out before him.

Nikita smiled. "We shall."

"I intend to be the perfect gentleman tonight," Michael informed her.

"Oh really," said Nikita. "Then I intend to hold you to that promise." She batted her eyelashes. "Because Michael. . ."

"Yes?"

"A week on that island certainly convinced me to try and get in tune with nature," she said smoothing a hand down the side of her dress. "You recognize this material? It's very similar to the material Durge used for the dress he made me. Granted, it's not as transparent, but I still wasn't able to conceal anything underneath. So, you see, I decided to let it go."

Michael's eyes narrowed as he watched her walk away from him, allowing him a generous view of her gently swaying hips.

"Temptress," he muttered. It was going to be a long night.

~Fini~

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