The woman on the table frowned and sat up, letting her towel fall away from the upper part of her torso. "It's so unfair," she pouted, much as a child with a new toy. "Just when I find someone new around here, Kassim has to take him away."

She wrapped her arms around Michael's neck and kissed his throat, his cheek, and eventually his mouth. He accepted the kisses, not responding but not pushing her away either. She eventually let him go, promising, "I'll find you again."

He walked out, feeling an incredible sense of gratitude toward the man in the hallway. As they continued walking together, Michael inquired, "Why does Kassim wish to see me?"

Bryson smiled, "He doesn't, I just thought I'd rescue you from the vicious man-eater back there. They forgot to warn you about her, didn't they?"

He nodded his head ruefully and asked, "Who is she?"

"Oh, that's Sherissa. She's Hamad's mistress and when he's not looking she'll nail anything in pants within a five-mile radius." Bryson examined his new colleague and said sympathetically, "It's my guess you'll have to fight her off again."

"Hamad's mistress," Michael inwardly groaned. Of course, she would be, and since his mission was to get close to the terrorist by any means necessary, he would indeed have to face Sherissa again.

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

"I would enjoy lunch much more if I could get rid of this clown and find out where Michael is," Mahleah thought to herself.

She had endured about as much of Leon's lewd comments and wandering hands as she could take without breaking body parts. He was a fellow bodyguard: young, reasonably handsome and incredibly cocky.

When his hand brushed her thigh under the table for the umpteenth time, she finally said, "Please don't do that anymore."

"What's the matter?" he smiled.

"I'm not comfortable with another man touching me in that way," she told him. "After all, I am spoken for, and I doubt Michael would appreciate the way you've been pawing me."

"There," she thought, "I knew that cover story had to have some benefits. If he keeps at it, though, I'm not going to wait for Michael. I'll starting snapping fingers myself."

"Oh, him," Leon breezily dismissed this mention of her so-called boyfriend. "I figure he's a little tied up at the moment. The last time I saw him, he was heading toward Sherissa's quarters. If she sees him, you'll be lucky to get him back in one piece. Believe me, she's insatiable." He grinned to show that he, at least, had survived the ravages of this demanding woman.

"Who is Sherissa?" she asked, a little alarmed.

"She's the mistress of the man who owns this whole place," she was told. "She has very little to do except to please him, and he stays busy enough that she's frequently bored."

"Oh great," she thought. "Hamad's mistress is a bored nympho. Leon's right, if she gets a glimpse of Michael, she'll want him for dessert." She stood up and moved over to the windows.

At that moment, the "treat" in question, walked into the room. Mahleah, who had keen eyesight, quickly detected traces of lipstick that still adhered to his cheek and neck. She growled inwardly. It looked as if Michael had lost round one, or did he win? She wasn't sure what his plan would be toward this woman.

She was angry, both for Nikita's sake and the position this put herself in. Even though this was a mission, it stung her ego a little to know that he would let every Jezebel in the place leave her paw prints all over him when he was supposedly hers. She reflected for a moment. What would Nikita do in this situation? A second later, she thought, "Hell, forget Nick. What would I have done if some wench had went around pawing Mac while we were together?"

A small smile came to her lips and it wasn't a pleasant one. She knew exactly what to do.

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

Michael was looking at her, questioningly. She looked him in the eye appraisingly. He was, as she had pointed out last night, a gorgeous man and she let her appreciation fill her eyes. He gave a start. She let her gaze drift lingeringly down: his sensuous lips, his strong chin, his broad shoulders, and beautiful chest. All were catalogued by her stare. She made her look into a caress and not an inch of him escaped her notice.

He looked a little worried and sat down in one of the dining room chairs. She slowly strode toward him, her eyes full of lust and even a little danger. He shivered. Why did she suddenly remind him of her katana's namesake, the tiger?

Reaching him, in full view of the other men, she sat in his lap, slowly straddling him until her legs dangled on either side of the chair. He swallowed, wondering what exactly she was playing at. Suddenly, Sherissa seemed a whole lot safer and much easier to control.

Her hands were caressing his hair and teasing the back of his neck. "I've missed you," she murmured huskily. She leaned in further, allowing the tips of her breasts to graze his chest, and tipping her hips closer to his.

"Did you miss me?" she inquired, and playing with his ear, whispered, "Play along. I'll explain later."

"Of course," he agreed. His own hand got busy. One ran gently up the outside of her thigh and the other found its way under her jacket. She tenderly nibbled on his earlobe and her fingers wiped lipstick off his cheek. "That's not your shade," she told him.

Her lips brushed away the offending touch and moved to his mouth. She kissed him, making a good show of it for the audience, nipping his lips and then smoothing them with her tongue. He knew she was trying to maintain their charade, but he hadn't expected her to take it quite this far. He co-operated dutifully, allowing her access to his mouth and exploring a little on his own. She pulled away and laughed throatily.

"Oh, you've been a bad boy. I can taste someone else on your lips."

She began a chain of wet kisses down his jawline, and he decided to just relax until the show was over. She felt the tension in him ease away, and made her way to his neck. When she reached the spot that still bore Sherissa's imprint, she kissed it softly, and then bit much harder.

He yelped in surprise. She looked into his eyes and declared, "Looks like I have to start marking my territory. This alpha doesn't share with any other bitch."

The men around them laughed. She released him and rose, rolling her hips forward as she did so, to give him one last reminder.

She began to walk away, but turned back to look at him, and he knew he'd been duly warned.

Little did they realize that Hamad had been one of the watchers and he found Mahleah's passionate performance quite....provocative.

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

Mahleah exited to begin her shift of wandering the corridors. Michael was scheduled to watch De Longis and left moments later. Hamad had quietly stood in a doorway on the far side of the room unobserved. Now he came forward laughing heartily.

"What a glorious couple," he exclaimed. "And the woman...such fire and passion! What I wouldn't give to be in his place tonight, eh Leon?"

The guard agreed, then added, "You know, sir, there is a way to be there vicariously."

Hamad looked curious, "Tell me more."

"Well, sir, I've been experimenting with video cameras, and I think I could set one up in their room for you."

His employer thought this over, and decided he liked the idea. If the woman was willing to give such a public display of, well he wouldn't call it affection so much as a furious territorial possession, then what would she do in the privacy of her own quarters? Besides, if he liked what he saw, then maybe this new member of security could be convinced to guard his body in a much closer capacity. He was growing tired of Sherissa's antics, and a change would be refreshing.

"Yes, do that Leon. Will I be able to watch as it happens?"

"I'll make sure of it, sir," the man promised.

Bryson, finishing his lunch, didn't like the way this was headed. He was 99% sure that this was Mahleah Brennan, and Hamad taking such an interest in her could not bode well.

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

Edward De Longis behaved himself on Michael's watch, and the Class 5 op was about to head toward the dining room for something to eat - he'd accidentally skipped lunch - when Bryson appeared.

The Watcher had debated his actions, but decided that this would not interfere with the Game, and therefore not violate his oath. Although he really wished to warn Mahleah directly she knew of his organization and, with the superb eyesight that she'd displayed today, might very well spot the tattoo on his wrist. All in all, he thought it better to give Michael his warning. After all, the man had been through enough surprises for one day: although he granted some of them were nicer than others.

He grabbed Michael's arm, and drew him into one of the rooms they were passing. Michael looked at him with a questioning eyebrow raised.

Bryson spoke in a low voice, "I just thought you'd like to know that Hamad saw your girlfriend's little display earlier. He was so captivated that he agreed to let Leon place a camera in your bedroom tonight so they could watch."

He started to leave, but Michael blocked his way. "Where will the camera be?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know. Leon's not the brightest fellow in the world, so it may not be that hard to find. I warn you though, Hamad's anticipation will only grow if you take away his peepshow. I think he's wanting to replace Sherissa, and while you can't blame him for that, it looks as though Mahleah may be the frontrunner."

Michael let the other man pass, and pondered this new information. He had a difficult choice to make: should he leave the camera or take it out? If he left it, he and Mahleah would have to make good on the show she'd put on before. If he removed the equipment though, Mahleah might have to sleep with Hamad.

He sighed. Frankly, he was getting a little tired of people manipulating him today. At that thought he had to laugh at himself a little. He was accustomed to being the seducer, not the target and having the tables turned on him was more than a little unsettling. With Sherissa he would have control eventually, but Mahleah was another story. He knew that her vampish behavior was strictly mission-dictated; however, the next time he would take steps to ensure he wouldn't be the one getting manhandled.

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

During the evening meal, Michael saw Leon slip out of the room and knew that Bryson was telling the truth. He wondered where exactly the other man would hide the equipment. His entire strategy tonight would depend upon the placement of the camera.

Mahleah felt Kassim enter the room and surreptitiously moved closer to Michael at the table. He glanced up and spotted their supervisor. "ShowTime," he thought. "Time for the curtain to rise on Act One."

He looked over at his fellow operative and when he'd succeeded in catching her eye, smiled broadly at her.

Mahleah caught her breath for a second, blinking in surprise. She'd never seen so many of Michael's teeth before. Quickly overcoming her astonishment, she smiled back. His hand, below the tablecloth, suddenly discovered the seam in her pants. His fingers lightly brushed along her inner thigh. She gasped loudly.

Everyone at the table turned to look at her. She blushed, bit her lip, then smiled faintly. They all appeared to be amused at her discomfort. She started to pick up her glass, but his hand started to travel higher, and she immediately reached below the table to grab it.

She faked a yawn, and then suggested, "It's been a long day, perhaps we should turn in?"

He drew both of their hands from underneath their cover and brought hers to his lips.

"Yes," he agreed, his green eyes sparkling with mischief.

They rose and as they walked away, he put a hand on the small of her back, caressing her spine. Kassim watched impassively, and Bryson hid his concern, but the rest of the men smirked knowingly.

Michael stayed in character down the hall, especially when he spotted Sherissa at the far end. Backing Mahleah into the wall, he gave her a blistering kiss while his hands wandered. She had seen the woman, not realizing who she was, and made no protest. In fact, she gave a little moan of pleasure as his tongue plundered her mouth.

Sherissa came towards them and cleared her throat. Michael continued to tease Mahleah's throat, while the object of his attention opened one eye.

"Hello," she said politely. When the small, red-haired woman glowered at her, Mahleah suspected who she was and took great satisfaction in sliding her hands around Michael's hips and squeezing. Shooting daggers at Mahleah with every glance, Hamad's mistress went on her way. When she left, Mahleah pushed Michael away a little.

"You're getting a little carried away, aren't you?" she asked.

He smiled slowly and seductively, and she instinctively edged her way past him to make her way down the hall. He caught up to her, and grabbed her hand. They were now outside the door to their quarters. With her free hand, she reached for the doorknob, but he grabbed it and spun her into him. He began kissing her again and could feel her confusion. He backed her into the door, and murmured, "Do you trust me?"

When she first entered Section, Mahleah would have hesitated to answer that question, but now she knew him better. Looking into his eyes, she saw a warning. "Yes," she answered without hesitation.

"Good," he replied, beginning to nibble on her earlobe. Very softly, he whispered, "Play along. I'll explain later."

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

There is nothing like having your own words used on you to make a girl brazen. Just as Michael reached for the doorknob, she attacked him and they stumbled through the door in an awkward melee of broken kisses and flailing arms.

"Act Two," Michael thought.

Mahleah had realized three things. One: something had happened that she was unaware of, but that Michael was now warning her about. Two: he was attempting to extract a little revenge for her behavior this morning. Three: she could give just as good as she got. Until she got an explanation, she'd play along all right, and they'd see who backed off first.

He tried to shut the door and she reversed his earlier maneuver. Now, his back was to the closed door, and she was kissing him. Grabbing his shoulders, she pulled off his jacket.

"Thank goodness we've already shed our gun holsters," she thought.

Michael was bemused. It was obviously going to be a battle of wills between them. Unfortunately, he needed to locate that camera. Grabbing her jacket, he slid it down her arms and pushed her further into the room.

His eyes were scanning the room, without much result. He attempted to remove the binding from Mahleah's braid, but she stopped him with a smile. She grabbed his shirt and began pulling it out of his waistband. Succeeding, her fingers flew over his buttons and then discarded the garment. She eyed his bare chest appreciatively and moved in, kissing his collarbone.

He gave her free access for a moment, continuing his search. He caught a glimpse of something on a bookshelf beside them. It was pointed toward the bed.

He subtly turned Mahleah in the right direction and sank to his knees before her. While his hands busied themselves with unbuckling her belt and unfastening her pants, his eyes were on that shelf. He could see it clearly now: a small camera tucked between two books. Leon was obviously counting on passion to blind them.

Satisfied, he pulled out the hem of the silk shell Mahleah had worn under her jacket and exposed her stomach. Deftly, he explored her bellybutton, making her squirm. He continued raising the silk and kissing the exposed flesh until he was on his feet again, and the shell was lying on the floor.

Mahleah, meanwhile, was taking the initiative. Leaning in, she kissed his lips again. Their bodies moved in a sort of half circle. Suddenly, she hooked a leg under him and pulled. He found himself on the carpet with her above him. She began caressing his chest and kissing his shoulders. He responded by trailing his tongue up her neck to her ear, into which he whispered, "Camera."

They exchanged a glance, and she followed his eyes to the shelf and back. She ran her nails lightly down his abdomen and he shivered. In a kiss, she asked, "Who?" and he breathed back, "Leon."

She began running a line of biting kisses down his chest when suddenly she stopped and said aloud, "What's that?"

"What?" he asked.

"I thought I saw a red light over there. Yeah," she stood up and marched to the shelf in question, "there it is. It's a camera! Some damn jerk is taping us."

She turned back to him, "I'll bet it's that creep Leon. He couldn't keep his hands off me at lunch. I guess he wanted to see what he was missing. Sorry, I've never liked being watched, and I'll be John Brown if I start now!" She turned the camera off.

She looked back at her companion and demanded, "Michael, what the hell is going on?"

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

"Apparently you made quite an impression on Hamad today," Michael informed her. "He instructed Leon to plant that camera. We now have a choice: we can turn the camera back on and say something about making a private video, or you can stimulate Hamad's interest further tomorrow."

"What makes you think he wouldn't want to get chummy if he did watch us?" she exclaimed.

"Perhaps he would," Michael agreed, "but the voyeurism might hold him off long enough for us to complete our mission."

"Our mission requires us to capture Hamad," she pointed out. "Getting friendly with him could only help."

"It's up to you," he told her.

A corner of her mouth turned up slightly. "Since when?" she inquired. "I thought you were the leader here."

"I'm not the one who may have to sleep with Hamad," he replied.

She was touched. He would actually allow her to make the final decision. The outline of a plan began forming in her mind. While she was thinking it through, she sat on the bed and let herself fall backward.

"Well, if the profile required that I had to have sex, we'd turn the camera back on and run through the Kama Sutra, but I don't think that will be necessary."

"Why?"

She sat up and began explaining her plan. He objected to parts and made his own suggestions. She agreed to some of his modifications and they both compromised on others.

"You'd better notify Birkoff," she told him finally. "I'm going to get ready for bed. Tomorrow's going to be a very big day."

He pulled out a panel much like the one he'd given Nikita before her six months of freedom, and tapping a few keys established a link to Birkoff's computer. A little later, she emerged in lavender pajamas and scrambled under the covers.

"It's a go," he told her.

"Good," she responded, and yawned.

He got in on his side of the bed and turned off the light.

"Are you sure you can do this?" he asked.

She turned toward him, propping herself on her elbow. "Afraid I'm in over my head? I can handle it, Michael, or did you forget my colorful past?"

He had temporarily, but now recalled that she was accustomed to the teasing game. She smiled in the darkness, "One thing's for sure: after all I've been through the past few days, I'm going to rock Walter's world when we get back!"

He turned to her in a mirror image of her position. "So you really are having a relationship with Walter?"

"Why do you feel that so hard to believe? Walter's the most genuine, warm-hearted man in Section."

"True," he admitted. "As long as the age difference doesn't bother you."

She laughed. "Would it shock you to learn I've dated men older than Walter?"

"Which of the studs was that?" he couldn't help asking.

"You don't want to know," she teased.

He felt a strange warmth for her - a camaraderie he had never really experienced before. She was, he reflected, somewhere between himself and Nikita. Mahleah was not an innocent as Nikita was when recruited, and her outlook was considerably more sophisticated, but she still retained a joie de vivre that he envied. Still she was, like him, a natural warrior with frightening control over her own emotions...when she deemed she needed it. They both were paying for mistakes in their past, and were willing to endure a great deal of personal sacrifice to protect the innocent. He hoped he could prevent her sacrifice from being too great.

He realized with a start that she was attempting to do the same for him on a more personal scale. She wanted him to see that shutting his feelings away was too high a price to pay for his previous crimes or his future responsibilities.

"Walter's a lucky man," he told her.

"Thanks, Nikita's lucky, too," she responded.

"Despite your insinuations, we are not dating," he tried to explain.

"A situation that can easily be rectified, my friend."

"Tell her the truth, you said," he reminded her. "How about you? Are you going to tell her about the mission?"

"I have no problems telling her," she replied, "and if you're smart you won't either."

He was silent for a while and she was about to think he'd fallen asleep leaning on his hand. "Can I ask you something?" he said finally.

"Sure."

"Why wouldn't you let me unbraid your hair earlier?"

He heard her sigh. "You would ask a tough one, wouldn't you? Well, I don't mind people touching my hair or patting my braid or whatever, but anything else is kind of personal for me. I've had long hair most of my life and as I tend to be an active person I always have it up, or back or something. Only family or close friends usually see me with it down. Once I became an adult, the only men that have ever loosened my hair are my lovers. Even when I go to have it trimmed, I unfasten it myself. It's just too intimate for strangers, or for pretend make-out sessions."

He sensed rather than saw her smile in the dark. "We're bonding pretty well, so you may very well see me with my hair down, but you'll never unbind it unless we actually become lovers. We both know how unlikely that is, so don't take it personally."

"I won't," he promised, then questioned, "So, will Walter get to..."

She put a hand over his mouth. "My turn for a question. So, if I had chosen the camera, would you have gone through with it?"

He thought about it for a moment and then said, "Yes."

She found his cheek in the dark and kissed it. Then she curled up to her pillow and told him, "Go to sleep, Musashi, and dream of Ni-ki-ta. Hopefully, you'll see her tomorrow."

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

In the middle of the night Mahleah awoke to find a long figure curled up against her back. His breath lightly tickled her ear, and an arm was slung over her hip.

"I guess I turned into a giant teddy bear," she thought sleepily. He twisted from a dream and pulled her closer. His hand came up to cup one of her breasts, and as her eyes snapped open he murmured once again the four letters dearest to him, "Kita."

"Okay," she thought, "that just saved you from getting thrown violently back to your side of the bed. Unfortunately for both of us, I'm not her, but if you need to believe I am while you're sleeping that's fine. Only this," she touched his hand, "has to move."

She gently eased his hand to lower, more neutral territory, trapped it there with her own in case it tried to stray again, and went back to sleep.

In the morning, dressed in a long, oriental style jacket, she went to see Kassim. He was discussing the day's activities with Bryson. When he saw her, he dismissed his assistant and stood.

"What can I do for you, Mahleah," he courteously asked.

"I came to warn you: get De Longis out of the house today if you can," she told him steadily. "I shouldn't be telling you this, but I wanted to ensure that you would maintain your agreement."

"As long as my master lives, Michael is safe," he assured her, then added, "You have my apologies for the annoyance Leon caused last night. He and Hamad bring out the worst in each other. If I had known earlier, I would have warned you. I gather you spotted the camera?"

"Yes, how did you know?" she asked curiously.

"I overheard the tongue-lashing he was given by Hamad when you shut down their surveillance. It was quite amusing in a crude sort of way."

She smiled, "No doubt. Speaking of ludicrous vulgarity, where can I find Sherissa?"

He raised an eyebrow, "She's usually dining in her quarters at this time."

"Breakfast in bed, huh?" Mahleah laughed. "Well, she'll just have to rise and shine a little earlier today."

He studied her with interest, "What do you intend to see her about?"

She smiled unpleasantly, "Oh nothing much...just the small matter of keeping her lips off my man."

She turned at the door and advised him, "In about fifteen minutes, she's going to need all the help she can get, if you would be so kind as to arrange it."

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

Mahleah strode into Sherissa's quarters without knocking. The petite, red-haired woman was actually out of bed, but nevertheless eating breakfast by the large picture windows at the far side of the room.

She glared at the intruder and demanded, "What do you want?"

"I'm one of the new members of the security team," Mahleah told her pleasantly. "I'm here to investigate the possibility of a hostile takeover."

Sherissa sneered, "You're that overgrown slut I saw in the hallway with Michael. What are you doing here? Do you know that I could have you thrown out of here and keep Michael all to myself, bitch?"

Mahleah stopped walking toward her and cocked her head to the side. "Now, see you've got it all wrong," she protested, and sighed. "I guess I'll just have to explain. You see," she said with an expression as deadly in its sweetness as honey-dipped arsenic, "I'm the bitch that slept with Michael last night, and you're the slut that's been trespassing on my territory."

"How dare you?" the woman's brown eyes blazed. "Get out of here, before I call the guards."

"The truth hurts, darlin'," Mahleah responded placidly. "Let the boys come on down. They'd love to see you get what you deserve."

Sherissa let out a shriek of fury and hurtled toward the larger woman in an attempt to slap her, or gouge her eyes out, Mahleah wasn't sure which. She calmly used the woman's forward momentum to throw her several feet away.

Sherissa fell in a graceless pile on the floor and Mahleah made a tsk, tsk sound. Sherissa's eyes narrowed and she threw the nearest object - the proverbial vase - at her rival.

Mahleah dodged it and the lamp that followed. She shook her head sadly, "Can't you do any better than the typical catfight maneuvers?"

Sherissa darted to the table and grabbed a knife, "I'll cut your heart out for this," she hissed.

"Hmm, you've got me there," Mahleah quipped. "Unlike you I actually have one to reach for."

Screaming, Sherissa lunged at her. In a flash, her knife hand was caught and twisted behind her. She was on her knees whimpering.

Mahleah leaned over and told her, "Now, are you going to learn to leave other women's men alone?"

Sherissa gritted her teeth and tried to spit in Mahleah's face. The Immortal was impressed: she'd thought the woman softer than this. At that moment, the security team, minus Michael, rushed in.

"What is the problem here?" Kassim demanded.

Sherissa staggered to her feet, "Kassim, throw her out!"

"A member of my team? Why?"

"She...she..." Sherissa was so furious she sputtered.

"She didn't even hit you," Mahleah pointed out. "I merely restrained you from hurting me."

"A likely story," Leon scoffed. "You were upset because I told you she made a pass at Michael yesterday."

"Is this true?" Kassim turned back to Mahleah.

"Did I like seeing Michael walk in with another woman's lipstick smeared all over his face? No, but I haven't hurt her, yet."

Sherissa, angrily shouted, "You won't be able to hurt me, but I'll hurt you. Oh yes, I'll have your Michael, and I'll have him begging for more."

Mahleah looked almost rueful. "Not if your jaw is wired shut, nighean na galladh," she sighed. She punched Hamad's mistress squarely on the jaw.

Leon shouted, "You shouldn't have done that!"

She shrugged her shoulders and punched him too. Then all hell broke out.

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

While the commotion in Sherissa's quarters was taking place, Michael had made his way to the room where the security systems were monitored. He discovered that Leon had installed one of his cameras in Sherissa's room too, and saw on a monitor that Mahleah was quite successfully keeping all of the security in the building tied up in one spot.

A free-for-all appeared to have broken out. Guards were fighting each other, Sherissa was staggering back into the fray, and Mahleah was in the center of it all. He noticed that Kassim was watching but not taking part. The security chief could very well end the whole thing at any time, so Michael hurried.

Going to the computer terminal, he infiltrated the security network and gave himself administrative access. This allowed him to readjust all the timers to shut down the complete system in one hour. He hoped that would give them all enough time to complete their plan safely. After all, he still had explosives to plant.

Sherissa ran at Mahleah once again, but the taller woman sidestepped, grabbed the hem of her attacker's robe and wrapped it around her head. Then she firmly booted her in the rear and over the couch.

The operative was a little amazed at how much trouble she'd managed to stir up. After she punched Leon, one of his buddies had stepped forward objecting. Interestingly, it had been Bryson who punched him, and suddenly everyone was choosing sides.

Hamad and Edward De Longis walked into the room with the former shouting, "That's enough!"

The commotion began to die away, as everyone realized that Hamad was in the room. "What is the meaning of this insanity?" he demanded.

Sherissa stepped forward. Her expensive nightclothes were torn, and she had a bruise on her jaw. "This, this...woman attacked me," she announced in a shrill voice.

Mahleah wondered where exactly the insult in that sentence was supposed to be located. Was she intended to dispute the fact that she was a woman? Not hardly.

Leon started to say something, but Hamad waved everyone into silence. "I'll deal with this," he said firmly, and taking Mahleah by the arm, he left for his quarters.

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

Hamad sprawled across a divan and gazed at the woman in front of him. Damn, she was tall! He was accustomed to Sherissa's small stature and found himself fascinated by the length of Mahleah's legs. He imagined them wrapped around his back...

She cleared her throat as if reading his mind. Aside from her voluptuous figure, he was also amazed by her aplomb. She stood before him, with her hands at her sides, completely at ease.

"So, you are the infamous Mahleah?" he finally said.

"Yes, and you are the even more infamous Hamad," she responded.

"You've attacked a member of my household, provoked a riot among my staff, and generally created chaos this morning. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Perhaps you should try putting Sherissa on a shorter leash," she suggested. "To clarify matters, I'll add that I was the attacked, not the attacker."

"Hmm, perhaps," he agreed. "Are you sure that revenge played no part in this little escapade? I've been told that Sherissa made a bit of a nuisance of herself yesterday."

"If you expect me to disagree with that statement, you'll have a long wait," she chuckled. "The fact remains that she tried to hit me, stab me and brain me with breakable objects."

"All part of her charm," he airily dismissed. "I was referring, however, to her more troublesome habit of making advances towards all the handsome men I employ."

"I don't think she cares if they're handsome," she replied, "but yes, I had a problem with her leaving stains all over my boyfriend. Do you have any idea how difficult it can be to get makeup out of clothes?" She stared at him a second and then shook her head. "No, I guess not."

He laughed in surprise.

She waited for him to quiet down and then asked, "So are you going to fire me?"

"Perhaps, but maybe you will be the most valuable employee I have. I'm looking for a new personal bodyguard: someone who will work very closely with me. I have many enemies who could try to kill me at any moment - night or day."

"Ah, here it comes," she thought. "Well, are you looking for a bodyguard or a mistress?" she asked him bluntly.

"Both really," he admitted.

"You expect your lover to take a bullet for you?"

"If I'm paying her for it, yes."

"Remind me not to put you on my Christmas Card list," she thought. "I think I'll pass on the promotion, if you don't mind. I assume I still have a job?"

"I don't know, you and your boyfriend - what's his name? - seem to stir up a lot of trouble among the ranks."

"His name is Michael and do I understand that you're thinking of firing him, too?"

He shrugged, "Why not?"

She sighed, knowing she needed to continue with the game for a little while longer at least. "Is there anything I can do to change your mind other than sleep with you?"

He pondered the options available to him and then smiled broadly, "Do you dance?"

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

Michael armed the last timer with ten minutes to spare before the security grid went down and Nikita's team came in. There would only be twenty minutes for them to secure the building, collect Hamad, and be on their way before the explosives began detonating. It would be a tight schedule, but he was confident that they could pull it off. Nikita was a good team leader, and by now Mahleah would be in position with Hamad.

He frowned. In fact, the thing worrying him was the exact position she might be in with the terrorist leader. She had been sure she could handle Hamad without much trouble, however, so he'd reluctantly agreed.

In the distance, he saw the unmistakable figure of Kassim come into view, accompanied by someone else...De Longis?

He walked towards them calling, "Have you seen Mahleah?"

They stopped. Kassim had a frown on his face. "Is she not with you?"

"I haven't seen her since early this morning," he told them.

"Then she must still be with Hamad," De Longis said. He exchanged a glance with his bodyguard that made Michael very uneasy. Mahleah had gone to a great deal of trouble to see that he didn't have to endure Sherissa's insatiable whims; he should, at the very least, return the favor if he could.

"Would you please go to your cousin and make sure she's okay?" he asked De Longis.

Kassim stepped in, "Sir, we need to leave now."

Michael stared into Edward's eyes until the other man blinked. Without a word being said, De Longis knew that if anything happened to Mahleah he would be held responsible.

"Look Kassim, I'll just go rescue the fair damsel from my cousin's lustful clutches and we can all go," he said cheerfully.

"The woman can take care of herself," the Immortal said firmly.

De Longis exchanged another glance with Michael and repeated, "I'll go get her. Don't worry," he clapped Kassim on the back, "everything will be fine."

He strode away. The older man regarded Michael intently. "I tell you the same thing I told your lady: if Edward De Longis dies, so do you and she'll follow shortly after."

He stalked off, obviously upset. Michael stood frozen to the spot for a moment. Mahleah had evidently been protecting his life as well as his virtue and he'd not known a thing.

Outside Nikita counted down the last few minutes before she attacked. Per instructions, she'd made sure her team knew that Hamad was the official priority. They also knew and agreed that unofficially Michael and Mahleah's safe retrieval should be their secondary focus. Many among them, remembering the times Michael had brought home teams when the odds were impossible and the ways Mahleah made them laugh and feel better about themselves, decided that such safety was actually paramount. When they'd asked about De Longis, Nikita told them that according to Section he was acceptable collateral. If he survived, good...if not, oh well.

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

When De Longis entered his cousin's rooms, he found Mahleah performing an Oriental dance. She had made it more Indian than Middle Eastern and refused to remove any clothing, claiming that he had only asked for a dance, not a strip tease.

He'd jokingly asked if she was modest and she'd replied yes and scowled when he laughed. The truth was she had additional reasons beyond the obvious for not wishing to remove any clothing. It was very close to the time when Nikita's team would move in and she had no wish to have to make a choice between getting blown up trying to dress or run out half naked. More importantly, though, she wanted to keep her concealed weapons, well, concealed.

He'd made a snide remark about getting over her shyness the night before with Michael and she'd said it was nothing he hadn't seen many times before. When Hamad tried to say that he'd seen it all before as well, she'd scored by pointing out that he hadn't seen her, and that must be important otherwise he wouldn't be so awfully eager about it.

Having nothing else to say for the moment, he shut up and she began to dance. She made her own music through the rhythm of her heels and the swaying of her body and it guided her. She hoped she didn't screw up, since only half her attention was on this moment.

Hamad sat watching her in fascination. Just before Edward's arrival, he'd thought, "If she's willing to do this to keep her boyfriend's job, what would she do to save his life?"

He was mapping out the ways she could repay him and the tortures he could inflict upon Michael when the door opened and De Longis entered.

"Aren't you done with her yet?" he inquired.

Hamad scowled, his fantasy world shattered for the moment, but then brightened and beckoned for his cousin to join him. "Look at this miracle, Edward: a bodyguard with the beauty and passion of a houri."

Edward sat down next to his cousin and regarded Mahleah with trepidation. He was nearly certain from both Kassim and Michael's agitation that something was about to happen at any moment. Yet, Mahleah appeared so graceful, so relaxed - as if she didn't have a care in the world.

A couple of minutes later his illusion was shattered by the sound of gunfire echoing through the house. Hamad cursed and went to an intercom trying to reach his guards. No one replied. Cursing again, he went to a drawer and pulled out a loaded pistol.

Mahleah stood in the middle of the room, calm but alert. She'd retrieved her own gun. De Longis looked at her hoping she'd lead him out of this mess. At that moment, Hamad looked up and knew. De Longis was a poor actor and his duplicity was carved in every line of his face along with his terror. Hamad himself was much better at hiding his intentions.

"We need to locate the rest of the security team," he told Mahleah. She nodded, when suddenly he was behind her with a knife to her throat.

She was shocked and angry. Why didn't she see it coming? Unfortunately, she had been looking at her target when De Longis made his fatal mistake or she might have been more on guard. Now she stood, barely breathing, as Hamad held a knifepoint to her chin with his left hand and with his right pointed a gun at his lackless cousin.

"I trusted you," he declared, "and you betrayed me. We were family and you helped my enemies. You brought their spies into my house."

"Please," Edward pleaded, "You don't know what they did to me, Hamad. I had no choice. Please, don't kill me."

"Hamad, don't do this," Mahleah echoed his plea. If De Longis died, there would be hellish consequences to face. "Please."

"For the sake of our grandmother, please don't hurt me." Tears were running down the young man's face. Mahleah felt her own eyes get moist.

"Our grandmother was a whore who dishonored my family's name," Hamad said viciously and Mahleah winced. "You are truly her progeny and now I will erase this mistake from the world."

He shot and Mahleah felt her heart try to leap from her chest as she saw Edward fall to the ground and gaze lifelessly up at the ceiling.

"No!" she screamed and struggled, trying to get free. The point of the knife nicked her chin and she felt a small rivulet of blood begin to slide down her collar. Hamad put away his gun, and readjusted his grip on her. The knife was moved directly against her throat and he held her so hard she could barely breathe.

"I've seen you in action," he told her. "You're very good. So good, I'll bet your people will want you back."

"You don't know what you're talking about," she tried to warn him. "They won't negotiate."

"Then, we'll both die," he told her grimly.

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

Michael was attempting to get to the east wing when he saw Nikita approaching him. She gave him a brief, albeit, radiant smile then got serious.

"Where are Mahleah and Hamad?" she asked.

Michael noticed she put Mahleah first. Leave it to Nikita to worry about friends first and terrorists later. "They should be together," he replied. "Mahleah was supposed to be securing him while I planted the explosives. I'm on my way to find them."

They both looked up when Mentz warned, "Nikita!"

Hamad walked toward them, clutching an angry Mahleah. His grip on the knife was so tight that she couldn't move her head a millimeter. She wanted to scream that they should just shoot Hamad, but they needed him alive. She could make him kill her but she was too cautious to do so. It wasn't so much a matter of letting the team see her die, as it was fear of the danger they were all in after the death of De Longis. Besides, all Immortals took the threat of a blade to the neck seriously.

"Let her go!" Nikita growled.

"Certainly," Hamad replied pleasantly. "If you let me go as well."

"We can't do that," Michael told him. Mahleah noticed that his blank mask had returned.

"Oh, I think you can," Hamad's voice became meaner. "Otherwise, this lovely woman dies. You wouldn't want that would you, Michael? You know what a waste that would be. Maybe she's not really your girlfriend, but I bet you feel something for her."

Michael refused to turn away from Hamad's stare although Nikita shot him a glance that probably boded ill for the future.

"My feelings for her are irrelevant," he responded coolly. "We never negotiate."

"Then I slit the beautiful one's throat," Hamad promised.

"Why are you doing this?" Nikita protested. "Our orders are to bring you back alive."

Hamad smiled unpleasantly, "If you are who I think, death would be preferable."

Michael had hoped that Mahleah would be able to help herself, but saw with a sinking heart that was impossible. She barely blinked, much less twitched a muscle. Suddenly, a shot came from overhead. It hit Hamad in the back, and he sagged. Mahleah slumped with him. She managed to knock the knife away from her throat, and staggered a few steps away.

Nikita saw the gunman aim at Michael and knocked him out of the way. She and Mentz began firing towards the assailant, who fled. Michael made his way to Hamad and felt for a pulse. The man was still alive, but he would need medical attention soon.

"Where's Mahleah?" Nikita asked, kneeling next to him.

He looked up sharply. He had slipped fully into mission mode and concern over Hamad had outweighed his worry over his partner. She was gone. He strode over to where he'd seen her collapse after Hamad was shot, and found a trail of blood leading away.

"Michael, time's running out. What should we do?" Mentz asked.

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

The bullet that had put Hamad down had traveled through his body and into Mahleah's side. She managed to drag herself into the dark recesses of a hallway leading from the large room she had been in. She needed a few minutes to pull herself together and let her body mend before her comrades could see her wounds. She really didn't want them to wonder how her bleeding side had healed so quickly.

She braced herself against a wall and closed her eyes, trying to ignore the pain. Unfortunately being Immortal only meant that her injuries wouldn't kill her; she still felt just as much agony as a mortal did.

She was brought back to awareness by the distinct snap of a hammer being cocked. Opening her eyes, she saw the last person in the world she expected to cause her trouble at this point in the game: Sherissa.

Sherissa was angry and scared and determined that Mahleah could help her escape the mansion alive. On the other hand if she had to die, she was absolutely certain that she would take this woman with her.

"Get on your feet," she ordered.

Mahleah tried to obey, but groaned and fell back down.

Sherissa felt no pity. Her finger tightened on the trigger of the pistol. "Get up, or die right there."

Nikita was torn between running up the staircase after the gunman that had shot at Michael, finding Mahleah, or getting the hell out of Dodge. After all, the bombs would go off in three minutes.

Michael gazed down at the trail of blood that led to a nearby hallway. His mind was racing. Inwardly, he laughed derisively at himself. He was supposedly gifted with the ability to pull a rabbit out of his hat on every mission. Right now, he needed to pull off a huge miracle and he had little time to plan how to do it. If he could help it, though, he wasn't going to leave Mahleah behind to die.

Of course, he had to ensure the team's safety first, and Nikita was leaving whether she liked it or not. First he needed to ascertain if Mahleah was even still alive. He grabbed Nikita's headset, "Birkoff, can you determine Mahleah's location?"

In the van outside, Birkoff's fingers danced over his computer's controls until he found the signal he wanted. He sighed in relief. According to the tracking sensor every operative received, Mahleah was still alive.

"Yeah, Michael. She's moving away from you, towards the courtyard, actually. Where the hell is she going?"

"I don't know," Michael admitted. "Can you jam the signals on the timers long enough for me to retrieve her?"

Birkoff swallowed hard, and set to work. He succeeded in part, but still wasn't happy with the result.

"Michael, I can give you six minutes, that's all."

The class five operative immediately turned to Nikita. "Take your team back to the van."

"No," she protested. "I'm coming with you."

"Ni-ki-ta, I have no time to argue with you. Hamad needs attention. Take him and the team back to the van. Mahleah and I will join you shortly."

She stared at him in shock, but could see that he was deadly serious. When he was in this mood, he was quite capable of shooting her in the leg and having Mentz carry her to safety.

She nodded reluctantly in agreement. Turning to go, she changed her mind, spun on her heel and grabbed him. "You make sure you make it out of here before the place blows up, you hear," she told him firmly. Then she leaned in, and ignoring the whole team gave him a quick, fierce kiss.

He allowed himself the luxury of staring after her for a whole five seconds before he turned to follow Mahleah's trail.

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

Sherissa marched Mahleah through the corridor. Once again Mahleah tried to reason with her.

"Sherissa, this place is wired to explode very soon," she warned.

"All the more reason for getting out of here," the woman replied.

They were nearing the exit to an open courtyard that lead to the gardens when Mahleah felt the tingling presence of Kassim. Knowing where the greater danger lay, she spun to face Sherissa. The gun was still pointed, but her left arm swept Sherissa's arm away from them and her right hand came down in a blow that knocked the gun to the ground. It discharged, but the bullet went into the wall. Mahleah brought her fists up, and as she had done to Michael previously, caught Sherissa in the Brachial Plexus. The small woman sank to the ground, unconscious.

Mahleah pulled herself together and went out to face Kassim. If she was lucky, she could talk him out of this fight. If she was unlucky, she wouldn't be returning to Section....

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

Mahleah cautiously walked into the courtyard. Behind her lay the main part of the house, before her the east and west wings curved around the open space and a fountain was placed in the center. A path lead away from the center out to Hamad's gardens. Mahleah had managed to spend an hour in them the day before. They were quite lovely and no expense had been spared to make them appear European. Green grass decorated with roses and wildflowers beckoned, but their trail led through tall hedges. In fact, Hamad had insisted on a small maze being set up before one got to the garden proper.

She didn't see Kassim before her, and turned. He was standing on a balcony overlooking the beautiful vista, but he had eyes only for her. She swallowed. This was not going to be easy.

"Kassim, I did all I could to help De Longis," she tried to tell him. He wasn't listening to excuses.

"You let my master die," his face was utterly calm, except for a muscle in his cheek that twitched and his eyes, which blazed.

"No," she exclaimed. "I tried to talk Hamad out of it, but it was no use. Besides, I told you to get him out of here, remember? Why did he come to us, anyway?"

Kassim started down the stairs leading from his perch. "Because Michael asked him to; indeed, Michael practically demanded it."

"Michael?" her heart sank. If her fellow operative had indeed sent Edward De Longis into that fatal situation she knew that nothing she could say would change Kassim's mind.

"I warned him then that if anything happened to my master you would both die. Unlike other people I have met, I keep my word. I missed him earlier, but I will find him again." He had reached the bottom of the steps and was now walking toward her. "Don't worry, he will soon join you."

"No Kassim, leave him out of this," she begged. "He has no idea what we are, and doesn't know why De Longis was so important to you. He was worried about me. Don't punish him for that."

His sword, a scimitar, was in his hands now. "A life for a life," he proclaimed. "You swore to protect Edward De Longis, last in an old and noble line. You failed. Now it's time to pay the penalty."

She nodded sadly, "There can be only one."

Her right hand reached behind her. One of the main reasons she refused to strip for Hamad was the fact that she had Walter's favor strapped to her back underneath her long jacket: a soft leather sheath holding Tora. She drew the katana out and faced him.

Michael hurried along the hall, as fast as he could go. Unfortunately, the blood trail was getting smaller and smaller. This gave him a bad feeling. If Mahleah were dead she would stop bleeding. Up ahead he heard the sound of metal clashing, and suddenly a faint cry. The sound gave him an adrenaline rush and he ran even faster.

Kassim was the oldest Immortal Mahleah had ever faced and not only was he good, he was also passionately determined. She was on the defensive, blocking his blows, but seeing no way past his guard. He began backing her up into the labyrinth. Trying to keep some awareness of where she was going, she left a small opening and Kassim's blade raked across her left arm. She cried out, but managed to step back and raise her sword again.

He was watching her intently. Her style had seemed so familiar to him. His brain started nagging him as soon as he spotted her ivory-hilted katana, but after a move that began Japanese and morphed into something Italian he knew for certain. She was a student of MacLeod's. His heart sped up. Fate was kind to him today. Not only would he be able to punish one oath-breaker, he could show justice to another. He'd told MacLeod before he would take one of the Highlander's line to replace Nasir Al Deneb.

They entered the rows of hedges almost as tall as trees. One of Mahleah's feet began slipping on the grass, and immediately Kassim took advantage. She felt fire lick across her body as his scimitar slid across her ribs.

He backed up a step to come in for the killing blow, and she threw herself through one of the hedges. The prickly stems scratched her face and hands. When she found herself in a new line she quickly put a few rows between herself and her opponent. She needed to buy her body a little time to repair itself as much as possible.

Michael had passed Sherissa's body without stopping. He reached the courtyard, but didn't see Mahleah anywhere. Beyond him lay the maze, but had she went there or ducked back into the house? He spotted the balcony and sprinted up its steps to get a better view. He saw Mahleah duck into a bush to get away from Kassim who was chasing her with a sword. He swallowed and looked at his watch: time was quickly running out.

Mahleah had made her way to the center of the labyrinth. A path led straight from her feet to the garden beyond. She steadied her breathing and concentrated on listening. Her shoes had been discarded in favor of bare feet. She grinned ironically. A country girl knew how to fight without shoes, and she wasn't going to slip again if she could help it. She had positioned herself next to the opening she hoped Kassim would take, and held Tora ready.

Everything seemed perfectly peaceful and still here in complete contrast to the house where people had been screaming and bullets had been whizzing. She could hear water running below her to keep the flowers irrigated. She almost thought she could hear ants crawling through the grass. Suddenly, her ears detected a small sound near her. She gathered her strength and struck just as the figure rounded the corner.

Michael had gotten a little lost in the turns of greenery. He stopped for a second, realized where he was at, and proceeded toward the center.

Mahleah caught the hand wielding the blade toward her, and Tora thrust through Kassim's chest. She was still bleeding heavily herself, as her frantic haste had not given her system much chance to rest and repair. He fell to his knees.

She pulled the katana out and stepped back. He stared up at her expectantly. "Do it," he told her hoarsely.

She stood there hesitantly. She didn't really want to have to kill him. If he would only promise...

Reading her thoughts, he shook his head, "No, a life for a life, remember? If I live, you may regret it later. Go ahead, with my master's family gone, I've broken my own oath. I have nothing left to live for."

Tears in her eyes, she struck. She saw the Quickening rise from him with trepidation. She knew he had been a very powerful man, and she'd never received this potent a Quickening while wounded this severely. It could very well kill her. When it struck, she screamed.

Michael stared for a second in bewilderment. Lightening was appearing out of a clear sky. He heard Mahleah scream, and ran into the clearing. She was lying on the grass, and he thought with horror, "She's been hit by lightening!"

He raised her up and she opened her eyes, and said his name weakly. He looked beyond her and saw Kassim's headless corpse. He stared at her, "Why?"

She licked her lips and tried to answer, "Had no choice...way of my people...leave me...explosives...."

Her head fell back and he saw with rising fear that she was no longer breathing.

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

Michael stared at her in horror. No, his mind refused to let this happen. After all that they had gone through on this mission, he wasn't going to let her die now. He laid her back on the ground and began CPR.

"Breathe," he demanded. There was practically no time left. In fact, he was astonished that the building hadn't fallen to bits around them already. He kept applying pressure to her chest and blowing into her mouth. He was about to give up when suddenly he felt her lips twitch under his. He looked into her eyes and she grinned at him weakly.

"We have to stop meeting like this," she whispered.

He ignored her feeble quip and said, "We must leave - now!"

She nodded and he tried to help her to her feet. It was no use. She was still too weak. She sagged in his arms.

"Go on," she gently urged. "Leave me."

"Not likely," he replied grimly. He threw her over his shoulder like she was a sack of wheat and began running as fast as he could carrying a six-foot woman. They were already in the garden, if they could just get some more distance between them and the house....

Outside the van, Nikita and company waited anxiously. They had done all they could. Now Michael and Mahleah's lives lay in the hands of fate.

"Five... four... three... two... one," Birkoff counted down sadly.

On cue, giant fireballs erupted from each wing and the main part of the building began crumbling. Nikita stared at it with tears in her eyes.

Birkoff came out of the van and stood by her watching the carnage. After a moment, he touched her on the shoulder.

"Nikita," he said softly. "They're gone."

"No," she shook her head violently. She could feel tears stinging her eyes, but she refused to cry. Michael and Mahleah were not dead. They weren't. She knew it. She could taste blood in her mouth and realized she had bitten her lower lip viciously.

"No, they made it out. We just can't see them yet. There's too much smoke. Michael found her I know it."

"Even if he did," he pointed out, "they may not have had enough time to get out of the building."

"No, they made it," she insisted almost frantically.

He didn't have the heart to insist they leave yet, besides she was the team leader. Her team looked nearly as miserable as she was.

Mentz suddenly caught sight of something in the haze. "What's that?" he asked.

Nikita stared at the spot hopefully. Something was slowly, but surely, moving toward them.

"Michael!" she screamed and ran into the smoke.

Birkoff squinted, and just as his friend had predicted made out the figure of Michael coming toward them. He saw with a start that Mahleah was lying across Michael's shoulder and his chest tightened. Of course, he was glad to see Michael alive, but what had happened to Mahleah?

Nikita helped them into the van and as the others climbed in, she yelled to the driver, "Go!"

Michael gently stretched Mahleah across the floor. To Birkoff's relief, she looked up at him laughed softly and said, "Well, that was a rough trip, but the view was spectacular."

Michael stared at her for a long moment, and then to Nikita's complete astonishment he laughed.

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

On the plane ride back to Section, Nikita was amazed by Mahleah's powers of recuperation. She insisted that she'd only had the wind knocked out of her, and was fine now.

Hamad's vitals had stabilized, so the mission was considered a success. Nikita was glad but she was still trying to unravel the strange phenomenon of Michael actually laughing. Previously she had only seen him do things like laugh or smile when he was on a Valentine mission. Well, she had to take that back: he had smiled at Adam and Elena. That could be construed as part of a mission, but she believed he had been genuine in his affection for them. So, what exactly did he feel for Mahleah and how had she been able to get him to laugh? Where did the bruise on his neck come from? She saw that he was headed toward the woman now.

Mahleah was sitting quite comfortably, tapping her feet to the music one of the operatives had managed to smuggle on board.

"Turn that up!" she called to him and obligingly the sounds of "Pour Some Sugar on Me" blared through the speakers.

Michael shook his head at her. "I wouldn't have picked you as a Def Lepard fan."

"I'm not," she shrugged, "but that song sounds awesome cranked up on a good stereo. It kind of makes me nostalgic for my youth."

"Oh, you're so ancient now," he commented.

"Not yet," she grinned. "But I'm working on it. Sit down, Musashi. What can I do for you?"

He obeyed her instruction then said in a low voice, "You can explain a few things for me."

He saw her guard instantly go up, and continued, "We both know you suffered more injuries than merely getting the wind knocked out of you. I tracked you through a trail of blood, and I know you get hit by lightning."

"What did you actually see?" she challenged. "Hamad was holding me when he got shot, why couldn't the blood have been his? Did you actually see me get hit by lightning? Maybe it struck beside me?"

He frowned, "I can't prove that you were shot no, but I still..."

She laid a hand over his lips. "Musashi, let me ask you something. Do you care about my well-being?"

He gave her a puzzled look, but replied, "Yes."

"Do you think I'm a danger to Section?"

"Actually, I do," he told her, "just not in the typical way."

She gave him a look of mock exasperation and continued, "Do you trust me?"

This was the big question they both knew. Michael trusted few people. He considered her question carefully and then answered, "Yes."

"Then please don't ask me too many questions," she pleaded. "There are things I'd rather keep you out of. I live a dangerous life just because of my very existence. It has nothing to do with terrorists or threats to the security of the world, it just...is."

"You said you had no choice but to kill Kassim," he reminded her. "You mentioned something about your people. What did you mean?"

She sighed, "That secret may be more dangerous to know than the location of Section One. Just know that my people live a strange existence. We frequently fight each other and have for centuries. Some of us try to avoid it, but at times there is no choice."

"So, the swords and the decapitation are some kind of ritual."

She nodded, "Something like that, yeah. Michael, I really can't explain any more. If our friendship means anything to you, though, you'll make sure I don't end up in the MedLab."

"I'll see what I can do," he promised.

"Good," she began humming along to the Aerosmith song now playing.

"So, are you reminiscing about the guy sweet enough to lick?" he inquired with a raised eyebrow.

She smiled at him, marveling at his newfound ability to joke. "You're referring to the first song, I suppose. Yeah, I guess it does remind me a little of Kevin."

"How about this one?"

" 'Love in an Elevator'?" she laughed. "I guess it reminds me that there are things I haven't tried yet."

"Really?"

"Yes, I guess my bad girl image will just have to be penalized a little."

He was shaking his head at her when she noticed the disgruntled expression on Nikita's face. "Ooh, I think I'm getting you into trouble," she said ruefully. "Why don't you send Nikita over to talk to me for a few minutes?"

He did as requested and the tall blonde ambled over and slung herself into the chair beside Mahleah. "Look, Mahleah, I know you two were under orders and all..."

"But how did Michael get a hickey on his neck? I was wondering how long it would take you ask me that?" Mahleah chuckled. "Well girlfriend, it was an attempt on my part to protect him from the ravages of a barracuda named Sherissa who was dying to sink her teeth into poor Musashi."

"Sherissa? Who was she?"

"Sherissa was Hamad's mistress and she didn't like me very much for some reason." She looked Nikita in the eye. "The truth is Nick that aside from a couple of make-out sessions when we were under observation, and the fact that we did have to share a bed: nothing happened between me and Michael. Like I said, I did have to convince Sherissa that his heart belonged to another woman, but I always kept that in mind."

"Michael doesn't love me," Nikita protested.

Mahleah waved a weary hand at her, too tired to protest the obvious, "Whatever."

After a lengthy debrief upon their return, she was delighted to discover that not only did Michael keep his word about preventing her from paying a visit to the infirmary, but all of her teammates refrained from mentioning anything strange about her appearance. She thought to herself that she would have to do something nice for them.

She returned to her apartment and slept for a few hours, although it seemed a little strange to be sleeping alone once again. She woke to a knock on her door. She threw on a kimono and answered it.

"Hey darlin'," Walter greeted her with a bouquet of flowers. "Did you miss me?"

She grabbed him and shut the door. "I hear we owe you our lives."

"What do you mean?" he asked cautiously.

"Well, the way Birkoff tells it, you told him how to get another minute out of those timers."

"Birkoff has a big mouth," he muttered.

She laid the flowers to the side and wrapped her arms around him. "Oh, but when you learn how generous I can be in thanking someone you'll bless his name."

She fully intended to finish what they had begun before the mission began, and if Michael needed "Kensei" tonight, he could fly to Japan.

Epilogue

Seacouver, Washington

Duncan sat down at Joe's bar and looked at his friend expectantly. "You said you had some news about Mahleah," he offered.

"Yeah," Joe stopped wiping the bar and looked at the Scot. "The household she was living in was completely wiped out. My man Bryson, barely escaped. He said that Mahleah worked for some sort of anti-terrorist group. She and another guy paved the way for a full-fledged attack. During the commotion, she and Kassim fought."

Duncan wet his lips nervously, "And?"

"She won," the Watcher told him. "That's the good news. The bad news is that Bryson lost track of her. He has no idea where she is now. It's still possible I suppose that Jesley saw her in Paris."

MacLeod sighed, "Remind her of what I said before."

Paris, France Outside Notre Dame

Mahleah sighed. There were times when she hated being Immortal even though she was a child for one of her kind. Kassim had not been evil, and she truly had not wanted to kill him. Was this what it was going to be like: forced into battle for eternity? At least Kassim had found a point to his existence. He had made a vow to protect a family and it gave him purpose. She supposed that really was why she had taken his head. She couldn't stand the lost look in his eyes at the end.

She wanted to live a meaningful life no matter how long it lasted, but she didn't want to live for only one goal. Life should be experienced to its fullest, and she wanted to see the world and know as many people as she could. Maybe they weren't all perfect, and some of them hovered in the gray areas between good and evil but companionship was the greatest gift humans were given.

She hoped Michael and Nikita would learn that lesson soon. Nikita would only need a little nudging while Michael would probably require a kick in the rear, but even he was showing signs of improvement.

She regretted that no one had bothered to get Sherissa out of the house before it exploded. Yes she was vain and even vicious but her greatest sin lay in allowing herself to be bored and who among us could not lay claim to that vice at some point or other?

Thinking of sins and retreat from everlasting warfare reminded her of her old friend Darius. She stood up. It wouldn't hurt her to stop by his old chapel and light candles for those that were lost today. Even if she wasn't Catholic, she was sure his spirit would approve of her saying a prayer for their souls.

In the meantime she would make sure she lost the woman following her. She knew the Watcher was only doing her duty, but if she found out where Mahleah lived there could be terrible consequences.

She would take the most Byzantine route she could think of to the chapel and after that she would return home. She had left a man in her bed, and he deserved to wake up with her beside him.

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