Up A Twisted Hill; Michael/Nikita-Nikita/Madeline

Nikita/Madeline perked up at the sound of the soft piano music filling the air. "Michael, I think that's our theme song."

Michael/Nikita nodded. "Yes. It's time for us to have a cryptic conversation, filled with longing looks and meaningful pauses."

"Do you want to start?" she asked.

"No."

"Of course not," she muttered. "The man, er, woman, er, whatever will charge into a terrorist stronghold with no backup and six bleeding wounds, but ask he/she/it to initiate a conversation and suddenly it's all passive."

She took a deep breath, pausing a moment to counteract Madeline's influence on her personality, and firmly centered herself in Needy Nikita mode.

"Michael," she whispered. "What are we going to do?"

"What we always do," he replied. "Survive."

There was a meaningful pause. Nikita/Madeline waited the required ten seconds and then threw her arms in the air. "You call this surviving?" she wailed. "My God, Michael! I'm trapped in Madeline's body and you're wearing a thong! How can we possibly survive like this?"

Michael/Nikita did not answer, merely lifted his/her hand and stroked Madeline's cheek.

Her energy spent, Nikita/Madeline leaned in against Michael/Nikita's chest. There was another meaningful pause. "You know," Nikita/Madeline observed, "this isn't nearly so comforting without your wonderful pectoral muscles."

"I know," Michael answered, his hand tightening in her hair. "I miss them too, although I've enjoyed the squishy feel of this body's boobies."

"Michael," she whispered, "I'm scared."

Wanting to comfort her, Michael/Nikita leaned down and brushed his lips against. Madeline's mouth. The kiss deepened...until Michael/Nikita, to his horror, started to swoon.

Nikita/Madeline caught him/her, and then realized what had just occurred. "Did you just swoon?" she asked suspiciously.

"No," replied Michael/Nikita, praying that for once, Nikita would just let it drop. But to be on the safe side, he had to distract her. "Ni-kee-tah, sometimes...we can't control our souls. They control us, and they take us places we can't go, like Katmandu and Nigeria."

He could see the effect almost immediately as Nikita/Madeline's eyes glazed over. Time to deliver the final blow. "You know we can't stay like this."

"Mmmm?" Nikita answered.

Michael/Nikita paused, searching for the next phrase. "Nikita/Madeline, we have to change now....I've been having these....twinges.....low in my stomach. On both sides."

Nikita/Madeline looked at him. "Oh yeah. I almost forgot. It's getting close to that time."

Michael/Nikita closed his/her eyes and sighed. "I thought as much." Then in a gesture of pure trust, he opened up to her. "I'm scared, Nikita/Madeline."

Nikita/Madeline's eyes widened and she leaned in close. "You are?"

Michael/Nikita nodded, then swiped at the blonde hair that tumbled into his/her face. "I am. I have no idea how to use that....stuff."

"I understand," Nikita/Madeline replied softly. "I have to fight the urge to build puzzle palaces and I don't even know what they are!"

There was nothing more to say. Which was Mick's perfect cue to charge in and say something.

"So, duckies, are we all ready to be unscrambled?" he asked, striding briskly into MedLab.

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

Up A Twisted Hill: Ding, Dong, the Witch is Dead! Tra, la, laa! Tra, la, laa!

Mary Sue watched as six pairs of eyes focused on Mick. The bodies stepped apart from each other, calm and reserved.

"Damn straight!" yelled Birkoff's body. Which was Walter. Sort of. "Let's get this show on the road!"

Mick stepped back and half bowed, one hand on his stomach, the other extended toward another door in the opposite wall. "Right this way," he said. "One at a time, mind you! All will get their minds wiped, I promise!"

Six bodies vied for space. Six bodies eager to be back in their own minds. Six bodies crushing Mick. Crushing Mick!

Mary Sue scrambled into the room. "Ladies and Gentlemen!" she called, wincing at those terms applied to these people. Six pairs of eyes turned to her. Mick, clothes torn and askew, stood against the wall. Mary Sue winked at him.

"If you'll all just repeat after me..."There's no place like home. There's no place like home."

Six bodies looked at each other. Six bodies began to chant, the phrase swelling and filling the room with sound. Behind them, Mick crept along.

Six bodies, so mesmerized by Mary Sue and her lovely chant, never noticed when Mick grabbed a body and took it into the other room.

Five bodies continued to chant....

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

Up A Twisted Hill; Epilogue; WARNING! WARNING! Spoiler for LINE IN THE SAND. Seriously. We are not kidding. No, really. I mean it...I promise...Enter at your own risk...

Mick and Mary Sue strolled nonchalantly into the mysterious building that housed Oversight. Officially, they were there for a debrief with George. Unofficially, they were there for a debrief with George.

"So somehow, the personalities of the key people in Section were inserted into the wrong bodies?" asked George.

"Exactly," Mary Sue replied.

"And do we have any idea how such a colossal disaster could happen?"

"As a matter of fact," said Mick, rising from his chair, "I have a very good idea. I'm in a position to know." Reaching under his shirt collar, he pulled upward. The latex mask he was wearing peeled away to reveal...

...his exact same face!

"Mr. Jones!" gasped George.

Mary Sue was stunned. "Why, Mr. Jones! I didn't recognize you without your piano!"

Mick turned to her. "I know, luv. My piano defines me."

She cooed, "Ooooh, Mick! Such a trick!" Then, violet-blue-green-brown orbs flashing, she turned to George. "So tell me, Mr. Mick Jones. Who was responsible for ruining our date?"

Mick looked at her, then at George. "Him! It was George!"

Mary Sue gasped, but only because it filled the silence so well. George glowered.

Mick continued, "It was his ultimate bid to take over Section One. If he could have everyone slashed together, he could rule Section, the most covert anti-terrorist agency on the planet!"

"And it would have worked, too, if you meddling kids hadn't interfered!" George whined.

Mary Sue pursed her lips and put her hands on her glorious hips. She looked at Mick/Mr. Jones for a moment. Then, before anyone could react, she grabbed the phone cord and tied George hand and foot.

"No more Scooby snacks for YOU!" she said.

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

Up A Twisted Hill: Epilogue Epilogue (NC-17, in the strangest ways...)

Saving Section can really tire a girl out. So Mary Sue and Mick, after ensuring that George wouldn't be escaping from his phone cord any time soon, returned to their apartment building in Mary Sue's fabulous car.

As the elevator ascended to the fourth floor, Mick turned to her. "This isn't exactly what I had in mind for our first date."

"Silly Mick," she scolded him. "Don't you know that I always have to save Section One? If you plan on spending any more time with me, you better learn that."

She opened the door and they walked in. Immediately, Mary Sue grabbed his broad shoulders, hurling her mouth at his and wrapping her tongue around his tonsils. Mick deepened the kiss, his own tongue reaching down into her esophagus and Mary Sue moaned. She ran her hands lightly down his manly chest, feeling his nipples tighten into little rose-like buds. Her own responded likewise. Continuing her exploration, she dropped her hands to his belt, then lower, until she could feel his rigid manhood straining against his cotton-blend trousers.

"Hol' on a minute, luv," gasped Mick. "We don't want to get to the climax of the scene too quickly. The readers will be upset."

"You're right, of course," replied Mary Sue, panting slightly. "I guess I just let my animal passion get the better of me." She growled seductively at him, and Mick felt his manhood burgeon, resulting in a burgeoning manhood.

"Bed," she ordered. "Now. Before I rip your clothes off."

Quickly, they ran to the bed. When they got there, they both paused to catch their breath.

"Big apartment." Mary Sue noted.

Mick only nodded. Then, in one swoop, he swooped over and picked Mary Sue up. Lifting her over his head, he licked her belly deftly, then fell with her onto the bed.

"Ooomph!" Mary Sue said as Mick's elbow landed in her solar plexus.

"Sorry, luv!" Mick sang.

"No problem, Mmmmmm-ICK!" Mary Sue popped.

Mick grinned then licked her belly again.

"Hmmm," Mary Sue murmured. "Where have I seen that move before? Not that I mind, of course."

Mick ignored her babbling as ran his hands over her halter top and behind her neck. Leaning down, he blew in her ear. "Wwwwwwwwwwooooooooooo!!"

Mary Sue jumped, grabbing her ear. "Ow!" she cried. "Blow GENTLY into my ear. GENTLY!!"

"Sorry," apologized Mick. Determined to make up for his mistakes, he slipped his hands under the waist of her skirt, attempting to rip it off in a display of manly fervor. Unfortunately, it didn't rip.

He pulled again, making a few grunting noises. It still didn't rip.

"Uh...hold on a second," he muttered, levering himself off the bed and disappearing into the kitchen.

Mary Sue lay on the bed, deserted and horny, planning all sorts of suitable punishments, until Mick returned, kitchen shears in hand.

"Hold very still, popsicle," he warned, and wielded the shears in a mighty battle with her skirt.

The shears eventually won.

There she lay before him, clad only in a leather halter top and little silky undies. Mick growled then moved forward, brandishing the shears.

Mary Sue caught his hand as he reached for her halter. "No way, buddy. Do NOT cut the leather!" She took the shears from him and turned her back to allow him access. Holding her thick, rich hair aside, she instructed him through the grueling process of undoing the halter.

Muttering, Mick sweated his way through the process. Not good, he thought as he struggled with the fastening. He was losing his rigidity! Finally, the halter popped free, flying across the room like a balloon losing its air.

"Aaaaah!" Mary Sue breathed, her buxom breasts gloriously free from the leather, confined now only by teeny weeny scraps of lace.

"Wow..." Mick inhaled, nearly blinded by the sight of the teeny weeny scraps of lace covering up Mary Sue's bounteous goodness. He'd rogered...or, shall we say, "jonesed" more than a few birds in his time, but he'd never seen anything like this.

Mary Sue leaned back on the bed, a seductive look in her violet-green eyes.

"Are you ready to climb Mount Everest?"

Mick blinked. Mount Everest? He didn't have any climbing gear! And Mount Everest for god's sake! Why not something easier? Less dangerous? Mount Everest!

Mary Sue rolled her eyes. "Mick," she said. "I meant me!"

Mick laughed nervously. "Right you are, luv. Right you are! I knew that, I did. Really." He moved forward, hopefully to cover the awkward lapse, but darn it! When he was with Mary Sue it was hard to think straight! He frowned. Perhaps that's why he couldn't think around her; too hard and straight when she was around!

Suddenly, Mary Sue moved, rolling him beneath her. "Not fair that you have have on more clothes than me," she murmured wickedly and brandished the shears she had confiscated earlier.

Slowly, she cut away his garments until he lay almost nekkid before her, clad only in silky briefs. She smiled, cat-like, then lowered the shorts.

Oh the phallus, the glorious phallus, that stood so proudly at attention to salute her! What a wonderful appendage, perfect in filling any orifice! How it gleamed beautifully in the light! How it shines as it winks merrily! What a feeling! What a sight! What a dick!

Mary Sue rolled over on to her back and held her arms out to Mick.

"Now," she said breathlessly. "Give me your straining member."

Mick's mind worked frantically, but he wasn't sure what she meant. "Uh, I think I left my AAA card in my other pants."

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

Up A Twisted Hill; Epilogue to the Epilogue of the Epilogue (We're cooking now! Imminent NC-17 ahead!)

"No, my dear," Mary Sue replied. "I mean your firm appendage. Your erect column. Your eager love stick. Your tumescence. Your manly shaft. Your turgid pole. Your Man-Spike. Your Love Point. Your helmeted hoo-ha! Little Mick."

Mick blinked, "uhh....you mean?"

"Yes," Mary Sue pointed, "Your penis!"

"You want me to give it to you?" stammered Mick nervously. "I'm rather attached to it, you know...or it's attached to me, but I mean, I don't think it's removable. I've tried some pretty crazy things in my time, but they never proved that one about the furniture polish and the Saran Wrap..."

"Mick!" Mary Sue interrupted, none-too-gently. "You're babbling, and I'm getting bored. We just lost three confused readers, and I think you've scared a nice lady in Akron."

Mick screeched to a halt, which actually kind of hurt, since he wasn't wearing any clothes, and I think we all know how much asphalt can smart. "Uh, sorry, luv. I just got a little confused."

Mary Sue sighed, leaned over to the side of the bed, and retrieved her Anatomy 101 textbook from her purse. She flipped to page 54, the one with the really good pictures, and pulled the laser pointer from behind her ear.

"Now, this is your penis." She punctuated her statement with the laser pointer, putting a nice little laser-red period at the end of her sentence. "When you get aroused, it fills with blood, and becomes 'erect', also known as 'hard', 'steely', or 'firm'."

Mick nodded. This made some sense to him. Good thing he'd read all those Harlequins as a child.

"Okay," Mary Sue continued, "Listen carefully. This is very important. Are you listening?"

Mick nodded, his head bobbing.

"Good." Mary Sue continued. "Now, in order for me to get ready for copulation, you and I must engage in an activity called foreplay."

Mick looked at her, a puzzled frown on his face, "You mean...."

"Right! You spend lots of time kissing behind my ears, down my throat to my mammary glands, where you then spend lots of time there. Then, when I tell you, you move lower, trailing kisses to my now moist womanhood."

"Moist?" Mick looked confused. What did Mary Sue mean? She was sweaty?

Mary Sue looked at Mick, her lips pursed for a moment. Quickly, she consulted her book then continued. "All this foreplay has stimulated my sexual glands, thereby releasing a natural lubricant in my vagina. This will make it easy, and pleasurable, for your penis to slide in and out in a steady rhythm until we reach orgasm. Orgasm; the culmination or climax of sexual excitement, arousing an intensely pleasurable sensation in both sexes, and accompanied in the male by ejaculation of semen (as defined by the Canadian Oxford Dictionary). Follow me so far?"

Mick looked rather stunned. His eyes were glazed over and he was breathing heavily. In response to her question, he moaned.

"Good. Now, when semen is released, it uses it's little tails to swim up the vaginal canal and into the uterus where it will try to join, or fertilize, with an egg. HOWEVER!" Mary Sue dropped the textbook on the floor and reached into the bedside drawer to pull out a shiny, foil package.

Mick smiled, his face lighting up. "A gift? For me??"

Mary Sue smiled back. "Sort of. We must be mature, consenting adults and practice safe sex. That is, we use a condom."

Mick's expression fell. "Awww ...."

"Mick."

"Yes, luv?"

"Do you really want lots of little Mick's and Mary Sue's running around?"

"Well, I think it'd be nice to have children someday..."

"We aren't talking about the actors who play us, dear. We are talking about us."

Mick paled.

"I didn't think so." Mary Sue unwrapped the package. "Now, come here, loverboy!"

With a growl, Mick leapt onto the bed.

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

Up A Twisted Hill; Epilogue to the other Epilogues. NC-17 for the World's Best Sex Scene ever written!

Three very short minutes later, Mary Sue was very disappointed. "Obviously," she sighed, "we should not have skipped the chapter on stamina."

Mick, who was lying on his back, chest heaving, spared enough energy to flop his head in her general direction. "Something wrong, luv?"

"Something wrong?" she snarled. "Something...wrong?"

Mick remained oblivious.

"Don't you dare remain oblivious at me, or I'll show you the true meaning of oblivion!" She reached down and grabbed his now flaccid? limp? wobbly shaft in a steely grip. "Listen to me closely, you stupid British person. I am Mary Sue, and I am not satisfied by some pathetic thirty-second thrust-thrust-groan."

Mick frowned. Thirty-second thrust-thrust-groan? Heck, he'd groaned at LEAST twice, he knew! Hmph! He was better than THAT! What was Mary Sue thinking? All that technical talk about, well, rogering! As IF he needed that technobabel!

She wanted some foreplay? She wanted his manhood? Hell, he'd show her some MANHOOD!

As if in response to Mick's elevated blood pressure, his privates began to stir. It saluted merrily as it jumped in Mary Sue's hand and she narrowed her eyes and looked down at the rigid little soldier, now almost ready for the great battle of the sexes. As she watched, Mick's tumescence became even more tumescent. Mary Sue's eyes widened, and still Mick's love stick rose. It stretched and grew until it stood rigidly against his belly.

Mary Sue bit her bottom lip and tentatively stroked one hand down Mick's body to cup his pendulous jewels. Her fingers curled around his rigid shaft as the other stroked the heavy sac beneath.

Suddenly, Mary Sue was on her back and Mick was savaging her neck, his raspy tongue rasping raspily in that perfect spot behind her ear. Mary Sue gasped. Mick held her wrists above her head in one hand, while the other ran down to stroke one perfect breast. His tongue followed a moment later, flickering wildly over the taut, sensitive nub. With a tiny nip that left Mary Sue gasping even more, he moved to the other, laving the valley in between lightly as he passed.

Mary Sue arched off the bed as Mick's talented mouth left her breast bereft and moved down past her belly button.

"Yes! Yes!" she screamed. "DO ME, you stud muffin!!!"

Mick smiled as he hovered over Mary Sue's mound of womanhood, the evil memories of his time with Michael/Nikita falling away with Mary Sue's screams of pleasure. Slowly, deliberately, he kissed Mary Sue in the most intimate of kisses, tasting her, um, flavor as he sipped at the flower-petal of her core. Mary Sue bucked, thrusting her perfect hips at him as Mick found her sensitive button and pinched it gently. Slowly, he drew the tiny bundle into the warm sanctuary of his mouth and sucked it hard, flicking his talented tongue wildly until Mary Sue was on the edge of the precipice overlooking the ocean of orgasm. Mick moved up, trailing kisses up the perfect landscape of Mary Sue's body until he reached her delectable mouth.

Slowly, he eased his considerable length into her warm depths. Inch by inch, millimeter by millimeter, he felt Mary Sue quiver around him.

"Gaaaaaaanph!" she said and Mick smiled, trembling with the effort to hold still. He moved his own hips then, slowly establishing a rhythm for Mary Sue to follow. She did so and soon they both cresting on amber waves of grain...er, ecstasy. With one final thrust Mick pumped into Mary Sue, feeling her climax as she called to him.

"Yes! Yes! YES! GIVE me your one-eyed willy!"

He followed her over the chasm and through the woods, his seed spurting forth (although it was caught conveniently by the condom he had donned in a sentence that was not included due to time constraints, thank you) in a turbulent mass as he climaxed as well.

Satiated and spent, he collapsed on top of a still-trembling Mary Sue, who promptly shoved him off of the bed, muttering, "Hey, you're kinda heavy, you know."

Mick sighed, picked himself off the floor, and climbed back into bed, ready for a snuggle and a good heart-to-heart talk.

"I don't think I've ever felt this way about anyone..." he began hesitantly.

"Snnnnnnorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrre," answered Mary Sue.

Amazed and hurt, Mick looked over at the flawless face of his slumbering angel. The bitch had actually fallen asleep!

Mary Sue roused slightly and mumbled, "No one calls me a bitch," then promptly fell back to sleep.

Mick looked at the sleeping angel next to him in amazement. How could she just fall asleep like that after what they had just shared? It didn't seem possible! Fuming, Mick leaned back against the pillows and frowned.

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

Up A Twisted Hill: The last Epilogue and the last part, I promise! Oh yeah, still NC-17. Maybe.

In the still of the night, in the heart of the darkness, to sleep perchance to dream, Mick dozed off. Some time later, a soft form molded itself to his manly form. Mick stirred as he became aware of the warm, feminine form next to him. Oof! Correction. On top of him. Mick opened one eye. A mass of silver-blonde-mahogany-blue-black tresses greeted him. Carefully, he moved the hair aside and looked down upon the excellent visage of a sleeping Mary Sue. Dark, thick lashes fanned daintily against her pale, creamy cheeks. As he watched, her pouty mouth curved into a smile of contentment.

For a moment, Mick was still angry with Mary Sue for falling asleep. But as she wiggled the orbs of her perfect breasts against his mannish nipples, the feeling began to fade. Mary Sue sighed and adjusted her hips over Mick's. All anger fled. How could he be angry with this lovely angel? He raised a hand and buried it in the tangle of hair that fanned over him and the bed. Slowly, he began to stroke down the flawless skin of her back. Who was he to complain? Mary Sue was asleep on top of him.

"MMmmmm-ick?" Mary Sue murmured throatily.

"Hmmm?" Mick paused in his stroking as Mary Sue stirred.

She opened large, violet-blue-green-hazel eyes and gazed up at him. "I'm hungry."

Mick looked at her. Hungry?

"I tried to get up earlier, but it seems I can't walk properly."

Mick felt his pride prick at her admission. Ha! She couldn't walk properly! Ha!

"Wanna do me again?" Mary Sue purred.

Did he? Crikey! In answer, Mick flipped Mary Sue over and gazed down into the deep orbs of her eyes. They, in turn, gazed back at him, full of love, admiration, understanding, promise, hope, adoration, idolatry, worship; allegiance, fealty, fidelity, loyalty; sentiment; infatuation, passion, yearning; ardency, ardor, enthusiasm, fervor, zeal; and, most importantly to his ego, respect.

Oh yes.

All was right in the world.

Finished (for now*g*).