Disclaimer: All Characters except Catherine the property of and creation of USA network, Warner Bros., and LFN Productions. This tory is just for fun and no gain is intended form the use of these Characters. Catherine is the creation of, and property of, Christina Aubin.

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

The eight man section team moved silently through the small industrial park. They fanned out, each taking up the position that Birkoff had laid out for them in the van. They were relaxed, it was an experienced team with a fairly routine mission. A meet was to take place in the open space between the buildings. The team was to assassinate one of the men and take the other two alive. They had no more intelligence, the agency had requested Section assistance the last minute.

Michael climbed to the roof of one of the buildings. There were large air-conditioning units on the roof and he moved carefully around them, using them for cover and checking to be sure a hostile wasn't using them for the same purpose. As he edged around one of the units a movement caught his eye, he spun around, bringing his weapon up to fire. He found himself facing the business end of a sniper's rifle. Suddenly both of them pulled their weapons up. Michael felt the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile as he took in the slight figure and gamine face under a black baseball cap turned backwards.

She spoke first, "For God's sake, this is like deja-vu all over again. Do you live to get in my way or what?"

Michael reached up and flipped off his com-unit, "I'm just doing the job." He motioned to her weapon, "Do I need to ask why you're here?"

They moved to the edge of the roof, "This is my hit Michael, just stay out of my way."

"We need Travis and Salieri alive."

"No problem, I'm only here for Cooper. Just let me take the first shot and I'll be out of your way."

He turned on his com-unit in time to hear Birkoff say, "Michael, are you there?"

"I'm in place."

"We lost your com-unit for a minute."

"It's okay now, is everyone in place?"

"Yes"

"Okay, team one, hold your fire until I take the first shot, team two cover if we need to pursue."

He glanced at her as she gave him a wink, acknowledging his holding the team to give her first shot. They waited side by side, silently, so as not to alert the team to her presence.

The meet went exactly as planned, the three men standing beside their cars. Michael kept the target in his sights but held fire until his companion dispatched Cooper with a shot right between the eyes.

"Like a fish in a barrel," she murmured, touching his shoulder as she faded into the night.

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

Michael strode into the Observation deck, Madeline and Operations were already there.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes," Operations told him, "Something odd has come up in the interrogation of Travis and Salieri."

"Odd?"

Madeline answered, "They both claim that Cooper was Agency. They appear to be telling the truth. Or at least they believe they are telling the truth."

"It makes no sense," Operations said, "If Cooper was agency why call us in? Why not take care of it themselves?" He lit a cigarette, "Madeline, keep working on those two, see what they have to say. Michael, work your contacts, see what else you can come up with and get Birkoff working on profiles for Cooper, Travis and Salieri. Tell him to work our own databases and stay away from any Agency information. I'll see what I can get out of the Agency."

After passing on Operation's orders to Birkoff, Michael returned to his office. Pulling out his cel phone he dialed a number from memory.

"It's Michael, meet me for a drink tonight, the bar off the lobby in the International."

He had to smile as he watched her walk to the table where he sat waiting. No black fatigues and cap tonight. Her dark hair was arranged up in an elaborate style and her copper coloured dress stopped way short of mid-thigh. The three-inch spiked heels still put her well short of his own six feet when he stood to hold a chair for her.

"This better be important Michael, I've had a long day."

"And a busy night."

"Sarcasm still doesn't become you. I haven't seen you in two years and now I can't move without tripping over you."

"Tell me why the Agency called us in on Cooper."

She gave him a surprised look, "You don't know?"

"They're jerking us around on it."

"What do you know?"

"Now you're jerking me around. Just tell me."

"Still so charming darling, I should have shot you when I had the chance."

His mouth tilted into a half smile, "It was more fun the other way."

She returned the smile. "Yes. It was. Okay, for old time's sake I'll tell you what I know, which isn't much. Cooper was Agency and he was dealing information to Travis and Salieri. Unfortunately they both fall under diplomatic protection and the Agency couldn't touch them. They wanted Cooper dead but needed to know how much he gave up. I suspect that Cooper had a friend in the Agency, that must be why they called in Section to do the hit, so he wouldn't get wind of it."

"Why keep us in the dark?"

"This is the Agency, Michael, who knows? I sure don't."

"Why did you do Cooper?"

"You don't really expect me to answer that do you?"

"Were you brought in by the Agency or are we dealing with a third party here?"

"Look Michael, my business is my business, but as far as I know there is no third party involvement. If I were you I wouldn't rule it out though. Travis and Salieri are small time players, they must have passed on or planned to pass on Cooper's information to someone else."

"You don't know who?"

"No, I have no intelligence on them, Cooper was my target."

"Do you know what Cooper knew about Section?"

"No. If he knew anything it wasn't from the Agency, he wasn't in that loop." Michael sat back in his chair, toying with his glass. She was telling him the truth, he knew her well enough to be sure of that, but whether she was telling him everything she knew was another matter entirely. She smiled at him over the rim of her own glass.

"I can see the wheels turning, Michael. I have nothing else to tell you. Now I really do need to leave. I'll be in touch if I hear anything of interest to you." She rose, reaching for her purse. He stood also and kissed her lightly on each cheek,

"I'll look forward to hearing from you, Catherine."

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

Michael left the bar a few minutes later, pulling his collar up against a night that had turned bitterly cold. He was undecided about whether or not to report what he'd learned to Operations. It really wasn't much and they were almost certain to get similar information from their own sources and through the interrogation of the prisoners. He had some feelers out among other contacts and decided to wait to hear from them before making a report.

Turning towards his place he thought back over a call he had had with Nikita earlier. She was working a mission in Lithuania and had reported that it was going smoothly, he'd be glad when she returned, he preferred to have her nearer at hand. He had gotten used to working missions with her.

That thought led him to remembering the first time he'd met Catherine. He'd been with Simone then. They were in what was then East Germany and had found themselves in a tight spot. Just about the time he'd decided they might not get out alive their pursuers had come under fire from the opposite direction. The second shooter had given them a chance to backtrack and retreat from the fight, without obtaining the documents they were after. Later, in the bar of their hotel an elegant young woman had approached their table. She had handed Simone a package from one of the few shops open to westerners,

"I believe you dropped this today. I tried to catch you to return it but you left the shop too quickly for me."

Simone had thanked her and asked her to join them, hoping to find out who she was and what she really wanted but the woman had refused and left. Michael had followed but she'd lost him with annoying ease. Returning to the hotel he and Simone had taken the package to their room and opened it with some caution, only to discover the documents that they had been sent to retrieve.

He'd been aware of her after that though he hadn't seen her again until two years previously, when they had again crossed paths during a mission in Paris. That time she'd been less inclined to be helpful since as far as she was concerned Michael was in her way. They were both after the same target. He still didn't know why she had been after Estrelle. He had needed him alive though and that had not been part of Catherine's game plan. It had come to a head when he'd foiled her attempt on Estrelle. He smiled, she'd been more than pissed off.

After that incident Section had become aware that someone other than themselves was after their target and had sent Michael to neutralize the situation. He'd tracked her for days and finally located her at a small chateau not far from the city. Entering the house in the middle of the night he'd crept silently towards what he had determined was her room, only to be brought up short buy the feel of a cold gun barrel at the base of his neck. It still rankled that she'd gotten the drop on him.

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

"Don't even breathe Michael, and don't make the mistake of thinking that I won't kill you, because you know that I will. Now. Very slowly, I am going to take that gun...thank you very much. Put both hands flat on the wall and don't move. At all."

He stood with his back to her and his hands against the wall. Her hand snaked around his belly and unclasped his weapons belt. She quickly divested him of both sidearms and a knife.

"Turn around."

He turned and leaned against the wall. She was wearing what looked like a man's T-shirt and was pointing a canon at him. He was smart enough to know that she was perfectly capable of using it.

"Care to tell me what you are doing skulking around my house got up like GI Joe gone bad?"

"GI Joe?"

"Okay, you're cuter and presumably, unlike him, have all the parts. Now talk."

"That's why I'm here. We need to talk."

"Michael, when you need to speak to someone you pick up the phone, maybe write a note, even drop by...at a civilized hour...unarmed."

"Yeah, well, my social skills are a little rusty."

"No kidding? You know, my arm is getting tired, I may even need to get a tighter grip on the trigger. It sure would be a shame if I blew your pretty head off. Probably ruin the wallpaper too and then I wouldn't get my deposit back. Maybe you should start talking now."

"Section is going to take Estrelle alive. They know that you are after him too and they aren't going to be happy if you do him before we get to him. They don't know who you are yet, but they'll find out."

"From you?"

"No, not from me. I owe you. We both know it. But if you want to keep section out of your life, and believe me, you do, you'll walk away from Estrelle."

"What are Section's plans for him?"

"What?"

"I'm not an idiot Michael, guests of the section don't usually leave the party. What are your plans for Estrelle?"

"We'll extract every bit of information that he has and then kill him."

"That's what I thought. Can you arrange for him to be found?"

"Found?"

"Get with the program here Michael."

"It's 3 o'clock in the morning and a half naked woman is holding a gun on me. Excuse me if I'm a little distracted."

"Sure. You usually work days, right? Look in my line of work a certain amount of proof is generally required. Having the target just disappear doesn't normally cut it."

"Am I supposed to believe that you're on a private contract with this?"

"It doesn't matter who issued the contract, they want proof."

"And if I can get you proof?"

"Then I'll stay out of your way. For now."

"I can't make any promises Catherine, but it shouldn't be a problem."

"I'm aware that I don't have much choice. I can try and get to him first and I have a pretty good chance of doing it. But I don't want Section as an enemy." She lowered her gun to her side. "He's yours, do what you can for me in the way of proof."

Michael crossed his arms over his chest and regarded her, wondering if she was telling the truth or if Estrelle's body would turn up on the Place De La Concorde in a day or two. She leaned against the opposite wall and assumed a similar posture, which did really interesting things for the T-shirt that she was wearing.

"So," she said, "is there a whole crowd of Section operatives surrounding my house?"

"No, I told you, I owe you. I came alone."

"Very confident, I might have killed you."

"And I might have killed you."

"We're a dangerous pair." She pushed off the wall, "It's late Michael, I'm going back to bed." She walked down the hall and then turned to look at him over her shoulder.

"Are you coming?"

"I sure hope so." He muttered, scooping up his gun. He caught up with her in a few steps and dropped an arm companionably over her shoulder.

"I don't think you'll need that particular weapon." She told him.

"You never know. You could be disappointed and you're a hell of a shot."

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

Once in the bedroom all bantering stopped and they came together with all of the violence of their lives pouring out as passion. She struggled with his body armor, momentarily trapping his hands behind him as he closed his teeth over her throat.

"Jesus, take this off." She panted, tugging at the heavy garment, dropping it to the floor. He pulled off the sweater and black, sleeveless T-shirt that he wore under it before pulling her back into his arms and running his hands under her shirt.

"This is a really stupid idea." She told him just before sliding her tongue into his ear.

"We'll talk about it later..."

Her nails scored his back as she brought her hands down and around to his belt. Rather than have her stop what she was doing he ripped her shirt from neck to hem.

"Hurry," she muttered, "get naked." She was shoving his pants out of the way.

"Wait."

"What?"

"Boots...shit..." he dropped to the bed, pulling her with him. Four hands tugged at his boots and trousers.

"Thank God, you do."

"Do what?"

"Have all the parts."

To his astonishment he found himself laughing. Rolling her beneath him he kissed her deeply, roughly. They rolled over the bed, first one on top, then the other, their mouths and hands roaming each other's bodies.

"God I knew you'd be good at this." Catherine gasped as he pushed her legs apart and buried his face between her thighs. She had one hand tangled in his hair and the other in the bedclothes. He brought her to a fast, hard orgasm before sliding back up her body.

She rolled him beneath her,

"My turn."

"You just had your turn."

She laughed and bit his nipple, hard, stroking him as she kissed her way down his belly.

His breath shuddered out as she took him in her mouth, "oh oui, "

His eyes closed and every thought in his head fled as sensation poured over him. It had been a long time for him, over a year since Simone was killed and Catherine was very good at this.

Catherine smiled at the sounds Michael was making deep in his throat. She lifted her head, stroking his thigh. Crawling up his body she looked into his eyes, "I want you inside me."

He gripped her thigh, pulling her over him, "No," she said, "You on top." They rolled and Michael took her mouth in a deep kiss, settling between her legs. She purred, smiling up at him,

"Now."

Happy to accommodate her he guided himself to her and thrust inside, "you're small", he gasped.

"And you're big, we're a perfect fit." She wrapped her legs around him and met him thrust for thrust, running her hands down his back and cupping his ass. He lost all track of time, steeping himself in her and focusing on the sensation of her muscles gripping his cock with each thrust, savouring her hands running over his body. He slid a hand between them, finding her clit and stroking it, finding the rhythm that made her gasp and move against his hand. She tightened her arms around him, his breath was hot in her ear and she delighted in each soft grunt as he thrust into her, he pressed his mouth to her ear,

"Come," he urged her, "come for me."

Beyond words she arched against him and came, her clenching muscles pulling him over the edge with her, his hoarse cry echoing in the night. He realized his arms were trembling and collapsed onto her, crushing her into the bed.

"I'll move in a minute." He gasped between breaths, feeling as though he'd run a marathon.

"You feel good." She ran a hand through his hair, soothing him with a maternal gesture even as she felt him softening inside her. "Can you stay for awhile?"

He turned his head, kissing her nipple, "Absolument." He murmured.

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

NOTE: Part 5 NC-17 and Part 5 PG are NOT interchangeable! The story MUST contain Part 5- PG, reader can choose to skip Part 5 NC-17 without losing the thread of the story.

Part 5 PG

He had spent the rest of the night and all of the next day with her. They had hardly left her bed. He remembered it fondly as one of the better days he'd spent in recent years. He had spoken to her several times since then and had exchanged messages with her through mutual associates, but he hadn't seen her again until the previous night on the warehouse roof. He knew that they would not be picking up where they had left off, it would be a mistake and they both knew it. As he got ready for bed he wondered if Cooper was the only job keeping her in town or if she had other business to handle. She spent very little time in the country and he suspected that she wouldn't be around for long.

As it happened he was proven correct, though he found out in a way that he would just as soon have passed on. Things at the Section were quiet over the next several days. The Cooper job was wrapped up satisfactorily for all concerned and the team in Lithuania reported that their mission (tracking an arms shipment out of Russia) was going according to scenario parameters. On the fourth day after his meeting with Catherine at the International he was at his desk when Birkoff contacted him through his intercom.

"Michael"

"Yes."

"Operations wants to see you right away."

When he arrived in the Observation deck Operation's was alone.

"There is a problem with the mission in Rome, All indications are that the team there was breached and the members snatched."

Michael's heart sank. That was Ian's team.

"How good in the intel?"

"Very good. We have no reason to doubt it."

"What about the disc they were retrieving? Didn't Ian report that they had it in hand?"

"Yes. We don't know if the team stashed the disk or if it was retrieved when they were taken. It is essential that we get that disk."

Michael understood that if they had the disk there would be no rescue attempt for the team. As it was they would need to contact the team to find the disk.

"Fly out tonight, when we get more information we'll send in a team but I want you in place."

"I want Birkoff with me."

"Fine, take him. And be careful Michael, this could be a trap."

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

Michael flew out that evening on a commercial flight, taking only Birkoff with him. There was a substation in Paris and he could assemble a team from there or call in a team from headquarters when he had a better idea of what was needed. Their weapons and equipment had gone ahead on a military transport and would be waiting for them. They flew into Pisa and took the train to Florence. Michael knew there was no point in flying straight to Rome, the odds of the team still being held in Rome were slim and an embassy intelligence team had already swept the rooms the section team had been using. They could get to Rome easily enough if need be. Florence always provided good cover for him since he traveled there twice a year as part of his cover, buying art.

Michael and Birkoff were shown to an elaborate suite in the Hotel Excelsior, overlooking the Piazza Ognissanti. Birkoff looking around the ornate room with a bit of awe. They didn't usually get quite such fancy digs on missions. At least he didn't.

"Check and see if we have any new information." Michael said when the bellhop had left. "I'll order up something to eat." He added, knowing Birkoff well. A short time later they were eating sandwiches as Birkoff went over what he'd learned.

"There still haven't been any demands. The assumption is that one of the team had the micro-disk in his possession. It wasn't found in the hotel in Rome and Ian had reported that they had it in their possession."

"So, basically, we have nothing."

"Bottom line, yeah."

"We'll wait then and see if we can scare up something from this end. In the meantime put on that suit you were supposed to bring along and we'll go out."

"Why do I need to wear a suit?"

"You are supposed to be my new assistant, remember?"

"I know zilch about art and antiques."

"Don't worry about it, you're a relative. I hired you as a favor. This is Italy, they understand that sort of thing."

As they walked through the lobby on their way back out Birkoff was astonished to see what was probably the single most beautiful woman he had ever seen launch herself into Michael's arms.

"Darling! How lovely to see you! Shame on you for not telling me you were going to be in town." She pouted.

Birkoff's hand was halfway to his gun before he realized that Michael was returning the woman's embrace and smiling at her. She turned to Birkoff,

"And who is this?" She asked, beaming.

"My cousin," Michael replied, "Birkoff. Birkoff, this is Catherine."

"Why he's just precious!" and before he could move she'd planted a kiss on his cheek.

Great, he thought to himself, this woman looked like a cross between Audrey Hepburn, Annette Benning and Elizabeth Hurley, but she apparently had the brains of a gnat. Why didn't Michael boost her on her way? He figured she was someone in the art circles Michael dealt with on his cover trips. Her clothes and Jewelry screamed money and the hint of magnolia in her voice was pure American south.

"We were just heading over to the Galleria Masini, on the Piazza Goldoni, why don't you come with us?" He heard Michael asking, and wondered if he had wandered into the twilight zone. Maintaining cover was one thing but this was ridiculous.

"I'd love too, though you know they have all that modern art, which I don't really understand. You can get lovely things at Alberto Pierini right here on the Ognissanti." She babbled on as they headed across the piazza. She stopped suddenly near the center of the square,

"Oh, I have something in my shoe." She dropped onto a bench and glanced around briefly, "Who the hell did you have on that Rome mission, Michael? The gang that couldn't shoot straight?"

Birkoff's jaw dropped. All trace of honey was gone from her voice and those vague eyes had sharpened abruptly. Michael sat beside her on the bench, "What have you heard?"

"Your whole team waltzed right into a set-up. Word is Shalatnikov is giggling into his Vodka about it too. Apparently the team got what they came for but then they got sloppy. Shalatnikov came looking for it and when he didn't find it he took the team."

Michael had long since stopped asking himself how she knew so much about Section affairs, "Have you heard where they are being held?"

"Shalatnikov is a fool. He has a villa in the Lake District, he has them there. You'll have to move fast, tonight."

"I have to ask, who is your source on this?"

"One of Shalatnikov's men isn't one of his men."

Birkoff finally found his voice, "Are you section?"

"No," Michael answered, "she isn't Section. You never saw her, never met her, never heard of her, got it?"

"Sure."

Catherine stood, "let's walk." She tucked her arm in Michael's and led them off. "I know where the villa is, as it happens I have one in that area also." She told them "You can use it as a staging point to get to Shalatnikov's. Oh look!" she stopped in front of a shop window full of silk scarves, ties and blouses, "I love this store, lets go in."

"Catherine."

"Oh come on Michael, it's almost Christmas, I'll buy you a present. In fact, I insist."

Ten minutes later Birkoff was choking back a laugh as Catherine told the snooty saleslady,

"He'll wear it. Here darling, lets take this off." She quickly undid and removed the black and gray striped tie that Michael was wearing and handed him the elegant patterned silk that she had chosen.

"Put this one on." She handed the old one to the saleslady, "Dispose of this, would you?"

When the clerk had left she reached up and tweaked the knot that Michael had just tied in the new tie. He narrowed his eyes at her.

"There," she beamed, "isn't that pretty?" Under her breath she muttered, "God Michael, what were you thinking? Where did you get that monstrosity? The Home Shopping Network? I was going to be ill if had to look at it for a moment longer."

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

Later, back in their hotel suite, Birkoff ran a check confirming the location of Shalatnikov's villa.

"She was right, here is his villa. Hers is two miles off this way."

Michael leaned over his shoulder, "What's in between?"

"Looks like just forest."

"Good, how long before the team arrives?"

"Six hours."

"I'll want a detailed layout of that villa before they arrive. We'll leave in an hour and they can meet us there. We're cutting the timing close. It will be nearly one am when they get there and we have to move before daylight."

"No problem, I'm working on the layout now. We have a DOD satellite moving over in 45 minutes, we'll be able to see inside his sock drawer."

"As soon as you have it we'll go."

Three hours later Birkoff dozed in the back of a Mercedes limousine, idly wondering how often Michael traveled in this kind of luxury. They were maintaining their cover as wealthy buyers of art and antiques, off to spend a few days in the Lake District. As the car pulled off the road onto a gravelled drive Michael stirred beside him. Catherine had gone on ahead of them and was waiting when the car pulled to a stop beside an impressive country house. She came forward and kissed them both,

"I'm so glad you could come on such short notice! Gianni, please take the luggage up, Pina will show you which rooms."

When the driver was out of sight Michael said, "I'll need to scout the Villa, have you heard anything else?"

"The servants are leaving shortly, you'll be free to move around. Angelo, my source, tells me that the team is being held in the stables. They haven't been harmed at all. Shalatnikov seems to think that if he leaves them waiting and wondering it will make them more scared and more likely to spill the location of the disk. I told you he is stupid, apparently it hasn't occurred to him that the Section might like it's operatives back, not to mention the disk."

"You're joking." Michael said incredulously, "He's just got them in a stable and hasn't even questioned them?"

"So I am told. There are four operatives and eight guards. I guess he thinks he has all the time in the world. He is planning to question them first thing tomorrow. Of course once he does get around to it he'll be brutal. He has a reputation for being a very nasty inquisitor. No doubt he'll torture one of them to death in front of the others just to soften them up and then question the remainder."

"Birkoff, do you have a layout on the stables?"

"Yes, not as detailed as the house, but we have it."

"All-right, let's go inside. You can brief me while I change."

Upstairs Birkoff sat at an elaborate writing desk in Michael's room. He had schematics of Shaltnikov's estate on his computer display. Catherine sat on the bed, listening. Birkoff had done his best to ignore the fact that she had casually followed them into the room and sat there while Michael stripped and changed.

"There isn't much cover as you approach the stables, if he has it lit up you'll need a diversion of some kind." She pointed out.

"I have a team of six on the way. Some of them should be able to draw the guards off. Is your Angelo one of the guards?" Michael asked as he pulled on a black turtleneck.

"No, he's in the house, with Shalatnikov. Speaking of whom, what are you going to do about him?"

"We'll take him out at some point. Tonight if the opportunity arises, otherwise we'll come back for him. Is there any particular reason for the outfit you're wearing?" He asked, indicating her Black jeans and sweater.

"Of course, I'm going with you."

"I can recce a stable on my own."

"I'm sure you can, however I am going with you."

He narrowed his eyes at her, "I never asked you, why are you in Italy anyway? Are we crossing professional paths again here?"

"No, we are not. It's Christmas time, it's Italy. I'm here."

"And?"

She sighed, "And there's a certain gentleman to be dealt with in Davos."

"Switzerland?"

"They aren't as neutral as they'd like the world to believe, as you well know." She smiled angelically, "and they pay the big bucks to keep their hands clean."

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

A short time later Michael and Catherine were making their way silently though the forest between the two villas. Birkoff had stayed at Catherine's house and was monitoring them through com-sets. Michael knew that Catherine was off to his right but he could neither see nor hear her, even with night vision goggles. She had faded into the night like a shadow. He knew very few people who moved as quietly or stealthily as he did, but she was even better at it than he.

He came to a short rise and knew that the villa was just on the other side. He moved cautiously until he was looking over the rise down onto the stable yard. The villa was visible about 100 yards in the distance, lights shining in the windows. Catherine moved up next to him. They were surprised to see activity in the stable yard. Several armed men were moving about, there was a pair of poles in the center of the yard, used for tethering horses for grooming. The men were attatching chains to the poles.

"Shit, it looks like they may have moved the festivities up a few hours." Michael said. "They are getting ready to start and my team is 3 hours away. They'll never get here in time."

"What about the boy?"

"He's not a cold op, he wont be much help with this."

"Do you have a scope with you?"

"Yeah," He reached into the pack that he wore and with drew a night vision scope. She took it and trained it on the house.

"He's downstairs, I can see him." She flipped on her com-set, "Birkoff, I have a job for you."

"What?" Birkoff sounded startled

"Go down the hall to the room at the end. In the closet you'll find a hard sided black case. I want you to get it and bring it here, pronto. And bring your own weapon while you're at it."

"Michael?" Birkoff asked.

"Do it Birkoff. Quickly. But don't make too much noise when you get close." Michael and Catherine waited a tense twenty minutes. The activity below them having reached a lull.

Catherine kept watching Shalatnikov through the scope. "He's on the phone. They must be waiting for him to finish his call."

"Lets hope it's a long call."

"With any luck he's calling 1-900-bimbo."

Michael smiled in the dark but was spared having to make a reply by Birkoff's arrival. Catherine took the case from him and laid it on the ground. She opened it and before Birkoff's astonished gaze removed and assembled a rifle almost as tall as she was with a silencer fixed to it. She attached a night vision scope to it and loaded the almost elegant weapon before handing it to him,

"Here, hold this for a second." It was surprisingly heavy.

She took out another weapon, it looked almost like a grenade launcher. She loaded that one with what looked like a grenade, maybe it was a grenade launcher. Catherine took the rifle back and handed the grenade launcher type weapon to Michael. Then she removed the silencer from the rifle.

"No silencer?" Michael asked.

"How can we distract the guards if there is no noise? However we don't want them running up this hill. Pay close attention, I'll do Shaltnikov through the window, at the exact moment I fire I want you to fire that, it's loaded with a percussion grenade, as far off to the right as you can. Any guard smart enough not to run to the house will go there looking for our sniper. We'll be long gone by the time they discover I'm not there."

"Okay. Birkoff, stay close, watch me every second. As soon as we get into the stable and free Ian's team we'll have back-up. We have enough weapons to arm them. You just stay out of the line of fire as much as you can while covering Catherine and I."

"Okay." He bit back a surge of panic. He could do this.

He watched, fascinated, as Catherine pulled a pair of ear protectors on. "This is going to be very loud. Cover your ears and don't watch the barrel, the flash will blind you momentarily."

She lifted the enormous weapon to her shoulder and sighted on the study window. Blocking out Michael and Birkoff. She placed Shaltnilkov in her sites and waited, slowing her breathing and heart rate. Absolutely still. Letting out a half breath she squeezed the trigger, hearing the boom of the grenade launcher beside her and seeing the target's head dissolve at almost the same moment.

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

"Go." Michael said, dropping the grenade launcher and picking up his assault rifle. Catherine did the same as they moved quickly down towards the stables with Birkoff following. The guards were scattered, most having run to the house, some had gone up to investigate the area where Michael had fired the grenade. The three of them moved across the courtyard, using the stable building as cover, coming up with their backs flat against the structure. Catherine and Michael were on either side of the door, with Birkoff behind Michael. Michael gestured that he would go in high and Catherine should go low, she nodded and they spun into the open doorway, two guards met their death in the blink of an eye. Michael moved cautiously into the dimly lit stable, Catherine motioned to Birkoff to follow.

"Cover him," she told the young operative, "I'll watch the door."

Birkoff followed Michael into the stable, mimicking his moves and trying desperately to recall the miniscule amount of assault training he'd had. Michael moved down the stable block, keeping his back to the stall doors until he reached one that was chained shut. He banged a fist on it,

"Stay back." He called, then shot the lock off the chain. Pulling the door open he found Ian on the other side.

"Michael!" Ian leapt to his feet and took the weapon Michael handed him, following him out of the stall. He stopped in astonishment, looking across the aisle,

"Birkoff?"

"Don't even ask. Where is the disk?" Michael asked.

"It's in Rome. I planted it in the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican."

"Good, come on."

The three of them quickly released the rest of the team. Michael heard shooting outside and assumed Catherine was holding off some of the guards who had run up to the house when the shooting had started.

"Lets go"

They moved quickly out of the stable, Michael couldn't see Catherine but heard her firing from the far side of the stable. He moved up beside Birkoff,

"Take the point, show them the way to the safe house. I'll be right behind you. Remember, you never saw Catherine, don't mention her to Ian or to anyone else."

In a louder voice he continued, "Follow Birkoff, he knows the way."

Catherine came around the end of the stable as the team moved into the forest. Michael assumed that she had been watching. "I got most of them Michael, and with Shalatnikov dead the others aren't too interested in fighting. They're just hired guns."

"I sent the team back to your house." He told her as they moved into the forest, stopping to retrieve the case containing her rifle.

"Okay. I think it would be better if they didn't see me. I have a boat on the lake behind the house, I'll stay there. I assume you're all leaving soon?"

"Tomorrow. I'll send Ian's team back to Florence at first light. Birkoff and I have to sleep though, we'll leave later if that's not a problem."

"Good, that many section operatives in the house makes me nervous. Will Birkoff say anything?"

"About you? No. He'll be debriefed. I'll tell him to say one of my contacts assisted us. It makes sense and they won't ask for many details. He's not as innocent as he looks; he can lie convincingly if he has to. He's been in Section a long time." Michael told her.

"Would it be that big a problem if section found out about you?" he asked as they walked slowly through the dark forest. He hadn't slept in two days and was tired.

"They know about me already in a vague sort of way. I mean they know I exist. They don't know who I am. I doubt they know that we know each other." ichael nodded, almost to himself. She had confirmed something he'd long suspected.

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

Dawn was breaking by the time Michael had debriefed Ian's team and sent them on their way to Florence. The team he had sent for had been diverted to Rome to retrieve the disk. He walked wearily down the hall to his room, suddenly he stopped and backtracked a few steps, knocking on Birkoff's door.

"Come in!" Birkoff called in a sleepy voice. Michael opened the door and found Birkoff with just his head visible above the tumbled covers.

"You okay?" he asked, knowing Birkoff was unused to being in the line of fire.

"Yeah, but no more shooting okay?"

Michael smiled, "No promises, you did a good job last night."

Birkoff stared at him for a moment, astonished, "Thanks."

Michael left him and continued on to his own room. He was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow. Four hours later he stirred, something tickling the edge of his consciousness. He rolled over onto his stomach, burying his head in the pillow but knew it was futile, he was awake. He lay, wondering what had awoken him, sensing no threat but keeping his hand on the gun beneath his pillow. Gradually he became aware of an incredible scent in the room and lifted his head slightly, focusing on the bedside table. A steaming cup was sitting there.

"Coffee." He said blearily.

"Got in one, I always knew you were clever." He turned his head. Catherine was seated on the window seat in a white silk robe, legs curled under her, sipping from another cup.

"Why are you awake? For that matter why am I awake?"

"I couldn't sleep. The wind picked up and the damned boat started to rock."

"So why wake me up?"

"Michael, click in a few brain cells. Don't you know that if a woman can't sleep she is honour bound to wake up any sleeping man and make him talk to her? You were married, you should know this stuff."

It had to be a genetic thing. She was right, Simone had always done the same thing, elbowing him awake just to tell him she couldn't sleep.

"Birkoff's down the hall." He told her, dropping his head and closing his eyes.

"He snores."

"I can snore if that's what it will take to make you go away."

"Michael, come on. What happened to that alert section operative? I could shoot you now and you wouldn't stand a chance."

"If you decided to shoot me I wouldn't stand a chance anyway."

She smiled into her cup, "Well sure but you don't have to make it easy."

He sighed. She was not going to go away and he desperately wanted to sleep. He lifted the edge of the blankets,

"Come here."

She walked over and slid into the bed, curling up beside him.

"Sleep." He ordered her, pulling her against him.

She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. "Michael?"

"Hmm?"

"I took a shot at you once."

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

"Umn." Suddenly his eyes flew open, "What?! What did you say?"

"I said I took a shot at you once."

He sat up, spilling the sheets around his hips and staring down at her, "When? On purpose?"

"I thought you said you wanted to sleep."

"Catherine."

"You don't need to get in a state over it, I didn't hit you."

"Were you trying to hit me?"

"Of course not, if I'd been trying to hit you I would have hit you." She sat up, plumping the pillows behind her and leaning against the headboard. "It was a couple of years ago, in Brazil."

He turned so he was sitting cross-legged, naked, the sheets tumbled around him, facing her. "Brazil?" He thought for a minute, "Sao Paulo? That was you? You had me pinned down for hours!"

"You!? What about me? I was supposed to be on a nice easy job, keep Calderone from getting shot by one of his thug buddies and who shows up in my scope? You! I was going to sit around on a roof for an hour and then fly off to Caneel Bay for a couple of weeks in the sun. Instead I had to hold you off for about five hours. I even missed my flight." She sniffed indignantly.

"Missed your flight? Your flight? You almost took my ear off! I had twenty-five stitches from where that piece of concrete clipped my shoulder."

"Oh don't whine, it's so unattractive in a man."

"Whine? I don't whine."

"Sounds like whining to me. I could have taken your head off for God's sake." He stared at her, speechless. She grinned, sitting up and looping her arms around his neck.

"I knew I could wake you up."

He leaned forward and just before capturing her mouth in a kiss muttered, Bitch."

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

It was a long, lazy kiss, a slow deep dance of tongues and lips. She tasted of coffee and woman. He tugged her robe and gown off over her head and her hands caught his. They sat naked in the rumpled sheets, hands linked, and he leaned in to kiss her again, pressing her back into the pillows and covering her. She smiled,

"Oh yes. You are definitely awake." His sex lay hard and heavy between them, as impressive as she'd recalled from their earlier encounter. He dipped his head and kissed her again, his mouth roaming over her face and her hands delved into his hair.

"Michael?"

"Umn?" he was biting gently on her earlobe.

"You smell like gunpowder."

He dropped his forehead onto her shoulder.

"Christ you're a pain in the ass." He muttered. "I wasn't expecting company." He said, rolling out of bed and dragging her with him

"Come on." He pulled her into the luxurious bathroom adjoining his room. Dropping her hand he turned on the jets to a marble shower as big as his office back at the Section. Turning, he discovered that she'd walked over to stand by the sunken tub.

She smiled at him over her shoulder, "This looks fun."

"It'll take twenty minutes to fill that tub."

She gave him the once over. He was still aroused and her gaze lingered on his erection.

"Twenty minutes sounds about right for a start." She bent over to turn on the taps, presenting him with a view of her firm, rounded bottom.

"Keep that up and we'll be done in a lot faster than twenty minutes." He told her.

Still bent over she grinned at him from under her arm, "Promise?"

Laughing, he pulled her into the shower. They stood under the sprays of water, not touching. Prolonging the anticipation. She watched as he quickly rubbed liquid soap over his body, washing away the evidence of the previous night's fight. They were relaxed and easy with each other, old friends, happy for the moment. She nudged him towards the bench built into the wall of the shower and washed his hair. There was oddly little sense of urgency. They took time, kissing lazily and stroking each other's bodies, avoiding too intimate a touch, drawing out what both knew would be their last time together for a long time, perhaps forever.

They moved to the tub, sinking deeply into steaming water, twining limbs around each other. He sat, pulling her over to straddle him and took one plump breast into his mouth. She cradled his head against her, arching her back. The water sloshed around them as she shifted against him and slid a hand between them to stroke him. He groaned as she ran a hand down his cock, cupping his balls briefly before moving back up and repeating the caress. Burying his hands in her hair he tipped her head back, kissing her more urgently, thrusting his tongue into her mouth where she caught it and sucked. His hand streaked down her body, unerringly finding her and stroking her to an orgasm so quickly that it caught her by surprise. She arched against him, crying out. She was still shuddering in the aftermath when he arched up, plunging into her in one long, hard stroke that drew groans from both of them.

Birkoff rolled over in bed, stretching. It was mid-afternoon and he couldn't remember the last time he had eaten. There wasn't a sound to be heard in the house, he had no clue where the kitchen was in this place but he was willing to go looking for it. Stumbling out from under the covers he pulled on jeans and a T-shirt. Before hunting down food he checked his messages. Madeline had let them know that the disk had been safely retrieved and that they should maintain cover and return as planned on a commercial flight.

Walking down the hall he decided to check and see if Michael was awake. Knocking lightly he received no response so he cracked the door slightly. The bed was empty but he heard water sloshing in the bathroom and assumed Michael was washing up. He took a step into the room, intending to knock on the bathroom door when he heard a female voice, Catherine's, crying out,

"Michael! Oh God, yes, like that..."

Frozen with surprise he suddenly realized that the bathroom door was open and that the cheval mirror in the corner was clearly reflecting Michael and Catherine locked in a passionate and erotic embrace on the floor beside the tub. Michael was kneeling, sitting back on his heels, legs spread, and Catherine was straddling him, arched back, supported by Michael's arms. The afternoon sun poured through the windows, gilding their bodies. As he watched, transfixed, Michael threw back his head and cried out, body shuddering. Birkoff whirled around and left as quietly as possible, mind racing.

Michael held Catherine tightly, feeling the little aftershocks of her orgasm on his still semi-hard sex. He leaned forward, face buried between her breasts, breathing hard. She shifted, sliding off him and sitting on the floor. Her partially dried hair tumbled around her, falling in waves almost to her waist. He remembered the feel of that hair on his cock and amazingly felt faint stirrings of desire, even though he'd come twice in the last hour. Even stronger however was the urge for food. It seemed like days since he'd eaten.

Standing he pulled her to her feet. She smiled up at him, sex and danger packed into a five foot four body. She stretched up, kissing him lightly, "Thanks Michael, I don't think I'll ever look at a tub quite the same way again."

"Me either. Come on, we need to eat, I'm starved and Birkoff is probably chewing the furniture by now."

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

As they moved back into the bedroom Michael noted that the door was ajar. He was pretty sure that it had been closed.

"Did you leave the door open?" he asked Catherine.

"No, I didn't." They both gazed at it speculatively. "Well," she continued, "There is no one else in the house but Birkoff."

"Shit."

"If he did see us will he cause a problem for you?"

"No, but I feel like I'm corrupting an infant."

"He's not that young, is he?" she asked, pulling on her robe.

"In some ways yes. He's almost never left the section. I'm pretty sure he's a virgin."

"Maybe you should take the kid out of there occasionally, that can't be healthy."

His smiled slightly, "Virginity?"

"Very funny. I'll meet you downstairs, I'm going to get dressed."

"Good idea, I don't think he's quite ready to deal with you dressed like that." He told her, eyeing the short silk robe appreciatively.

A short time later when Catherine entered the kitchen she found Birkoff alone, sitting at the table, chewing on some bread.

"Hi, did you get some sleep?" She asked him.

"Yeah, thanks." He hoped he wasn't blushing as he looked at her. She was dressed in a short skirt and a sweater but he kept seeing her as he had a half-hour earlier.

She stood, looking into her refrigerator, a vaguely perplexed look on her face. "Tell me something Birkoff. Do you know how to cook?"

"Cook? No. I don't even have a kitchen."

"Smart boy, that's the way it should be."

Michael smiled from his vantage point by the door, "Still can't cook?"

She glared at him; "I can cook. Sort of."

"I've had your sort of."

"You sure have buster so you better stop insulting me or you wont get any more of it." She slapped a hand over her mouth and looked at Birkoff, "Oops. Sorry." Birkoff looked down at the table, trying desperately not to laugh. Laughing at Michael didn't seem like the road to success in the Section.

"I don't think he's surprised." Michael said, "Relax Birkoff, this is as close to a day off as you're ever going to get. The mission's over, it was a success and we're thousands of miles away from the Section." He walked over to stand next to Catherine.

"So are you going to cook something in there or do we just look at it and hope it does something on it's own? - umph" she elbowed him in the ribs, hard.

"Why don't you cook if you're so much better at it?"

"Not me, I never claimed I could cook."

"Then get out of the way."

"Yes ma'am." He sat at the table with Birkoff, sipping on a glass of wine, while she bustled around creating an unholy mess. Leaning over he said in a quiet voice,

"You better eat this cautiously, Birkoff. She made me an omelette once. It was crunchy."

"I heard that."

Despite Michael's dire predictions she managed to produce a semi-edible steak, charred on the outside and raw in the middle. She didn't even attempt to cook a vegetable and gave them sliced tomatoes instead. It was the most enjoyable afternoon Birkoff had ever had. It almost had the air of a normal life to it. He looked across the table to where Catherine was trying to tease a smile out of Michael and found it hard to believe that she'd blown a man's head off the night before. Without a hesitation. Of course Shalatnikov had deserved it. He had killed himself, as had just about everyone he knew but he didn't think he'd ever met anyone who looked less like a killer.

She noticed him looking at her, "What?"

"I was just thinking that you're an awfully good shot."

There was silence for moment and then, suddenly Michael started to laugh.

Birkoff stared at him, he'd never seen Michael laugh so hard.

"What?" Birkoff asked

"Nothing," Michael replied, recovering himself, "You're right, she's a good shot."

The best in the world he thought to himself.

Early that evening Catherine's chauffeur returned to drive Michael and Birkoff back to Florence. She walked out to the car with them.

"Take care of yourself Birkoff. It was nice meeting you." She said, hugging him and giving him a kiss right on the mouth. He blushed and managed to stammer out a reply before getting in the car.

"Tease." Michael said to her, taking her hand.

"Just giving him something to think about."

"I haven't thanked you for helping us. We never would have gotten to the team in time without your intel and help."

"I won't say anytime, but it was no problem this time. And it was nice to see you again. I heard you had a rough time in Morocco this spring, I was worried. I'm glad you're okay."

"Thanks. You're off to Switzerland?"

"Yes, tomorrow I think."

"You know where to reach me if you need anything."

"I do, you'll do the same?"

"Yes." Ignoring the fact that Birkoff was sitting in the car he took her in his arms and kissed her deeply. "Be careful."

"I will be, you too."

He got in the car and she watched it drive off. Early the next morning when she came down for breakfast her housekeeper, Pina, pointed out a small package on the table.

"Gianni brought that back with him. It is a gift for you from your gentleman guest."

She unwrapped it and recognized the distinctive Pierini logo on the small velvet box. There was a short note in Michael's hand,

"A Christmas gift, thanks for the tie, love, Michael."

Opening the box she discovered a lovely antique cameo set in gold filigree and accented with diamonds.

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

Epilogue:

Nikita walked through the section on her way to return her weapons to Walter. Michael was sitting at the briefing table reading a newspaper. "Hi Michael."

"Nikita, I heard thing went well in Yugoslavia?"

"Like clockwork." Just then his pager went off and he excused himself.

She picked up the paper, scanning the headlines, idly wondering what he'd been reading.

Stock Market Reaches Record High...

Christmas Shopping Season a Busy One...

President Holds a Press Conference...

Suspected Bosnain War criminal Assassinated in Davos, Switzerland...

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