This is a little "Valentine" from Red to all with love. A little humor for all of you who were less than thrilled with "Approaching Zero." Happy Valentine’s Day to all!

The following story is dedicated with heartfelt thanks to Zzoomama, without whose help this story would never have been completed. Thanks, Zzoomama! Zzoomama also gets a box of double-chocolate bonbons for putting up with me!

This is sort of a follow-up to "Noisy Voices". Trouble in paradise once again, folks. Michael reveals his sensitive side, and Operations reveals a little more than we’d like him to. Enter Jurgen. Exit Jurgen. Whatever.

"Approaching Zilch"

Melancholy SpyBoy:

Michael sat studying the parameters for the next mission. His poor little mind was elsewhere, though. Jurgen. Jurgen, Jurgen, Jurgen. What to do? Jurgen was becoming a real problem. Nikita seemed to like him, although Michael just couldn’t figure out why. He had nothing on Michael in the looks department. Nikita’s behavior was puzzling indeed. Perhaps she was going near-sighted and needed glasses. He had asked her how her vision had been lately earlier that day. She didn’t take too kindly to that, and smacked him upside the head. The bruise was still smarting. Now he just didn’t know what to do. He would have to go to Madeline. It was time for another of their one-on-ones. He did indeed look forward to them every week. She was the only one who REALLY understood him - or at least the only one who pretended to.

Madeline walked in. Boy, was he glad to see her. He pretended to be engrossed in his work.

"You’re here late, " she said politely.

"Just going over the parameters again," he sighed, deliberately sounding depressed and hoping to get her attention.

"That’s not like you," she observed. "You’re usually a quick study. Somehow, I don’t think it’s the mission that you’re having trouble figuring out."

He took the opening. "How’d he get here?" He asked in a sweet, wistful voice. Madeline knew he was asking about Jurgen. "What’s his life like outside?" He continued. Does he even HAVE one?"

"Well, he’s got a much bigger, fancier house than you do. But is it his life you really want to know about? Or his heart?" Madeline asked perceptively.

"Does he even HAVE a heart?" Michael lamented.

"Jurgen loved once. Very deeply." Madeline stated knowingly.

"Simone," said Michael, lamenting again. Actually, he was on the verge of whining.

"You’re worried about Niktia?" she asked.

"Not……worried," he lied, regaining his composure.

"You’re worried Jurgen might take Nikita away from you." Madeline stated consolingly as she stood to leave.

"Not……really," he lied, and stood to follow her to the door.

"Well, some men can only love once. Whether or not Jurgen’s like that, I don’t really know," she said.

"Gee, I thought you knew EVERRRYTHING, Madeline," Michael crooned.

"I know what I need to know, Michael. If you can say the same……you’ll be O.K."

"G’night, Madeline," Michael said with a smile as he turned and swung his hair around perkily. He felt better already. But there was still the mission to worry about….

Jurgen was hiding something. He had something that Ops and Maddy desperately wanted, but no one really knew for sure what it was. Michael had Walter implant a little bug on Nikita, since she no longer allowed Michael to touch her or come near her. He badly missed their weekly back-scratches, but that was beside the point. There was work to be done. He ran into Nikita the next afternoon. He then goaded her, knowing she would take the bait and go home with Jurgs. It worked.

Nikita was in place in Jurgen’s house. Now he was watching all their goings on via live satellite TV while Birkoff hurried to break Jurgen’s security codes…

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

Compromising Situations:

Nikita plonked herself down on Jurgen’s leather sofa.

Jurgen plonked himself down on Nikita.

"Whoa, Nellie! Ease up there, big guy," Nikita said breathlessly. He was heavier than he looked.

"What’s wrong? You aren’t ready?" he asked, puzzled.

"No, it’s just that…" she struggled to find the words.

"I know, I know," he offered. "I’m not as cute as Michael. All the girls say the same thing. It’s all right, though. Not everyone can be like Mike."

"Uh, no, uh, come here. There, there, poor baby." She gestured for him to come closer. Just then, as if on cue, her cell-phone rang.

"Jo……Jo…" said an unsteady voice. It was Michael.

"JoJo???" Nikita asked, genuinely confused. "I believe you have the wrong numb…"

Michael cut her off. "Jo…Jo…Jo…Jo," He could do this. Damn it, he could do this!!!!! "Jo…..Jo," and then, suddenly "…Ssssssshzosephine……" "Damn, I’m good," he thought to himself.

Nikita sat up straight and knocked Jurgen off of her and the sofa and on to the floor.

"NOW????" asked Nikita, sounding more than a little ticked off. Jurgen was rubbing his hurt head.

"Yes. Is that a problem?" Michael asked.

"Well," Nikita began, "it's just that I was hoping to squeeze in a quickie with, uh, (looks down at Jurgen and whispers "help me out, here." - "Jurgen", he whispered back helpfully, still rubbing the lump on his head.) with, uh, yeah, JURGEN, here. Is THAT a problem?" she demanded.

"O.K." Michael stated flatly, once again remembering his fury. He was turning red. "Let me rephrase it, " he spoke slowly for dramatic effect. "Get your lyin', cheatin', no-good, lousy, scrawny, two-timin' patootie in here NOWWWWWW!!!! UNDERSTAND????!!!!!!"

"Uh-huh." Nikita got the message. "Errr.....Jurgs, gotta run," Nikita said. "It's been real."

Jurgen’s cell phone rang. "Sssssssshzosephine…," said Michael. He was so excited to say it right that he kept repeating it over and over to everyone like a broken record.

"Uh, Michael. I love you, man, but that is NOT my codename," Jurgen reminded him.

"Come in," Michael ordered in an extra-authoritative voice, trying to cover his error.

Jurgen followed Nikita to the Section like a trained puppy-dog, dribbling all the way….

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

Meanwhile, back at the ranch…

Birkoff and Michael easily entered Jurgen’s massive mansion.

"Cool digs," Birkoff remarked, checking out his posh surroundings and helping himself to a cashew or three.

"Shut up," Michael sneered. "We’re here to do a job, remember?" he scowled, helping himself to a cashew or three.

"What?" Birkoff asked him. "I can’t understand you with your mouth full, Michael." Birkoff turned to look for the goods.

There it sat - a neat little red cardboard box. It appeared to be a gift box from a local department store. Michael and Birkoff looked at each other for a second. Birkoff sprang into mid air, but Michael was the nimble one. He grabbed the box first.

"A-a-a," he scolded. "This one’s mine." Birkoff was disappointed.

"Let’s get out of here," said Michael.

"I still say this is a great place to have a party," Birkoff remarked, reluctant to leave. Michael practically had to drag him by the arm.

"Like you’re ever gonna see THAT day," Michael chided.

(Back in the Section’s new four-wheel drive)

Birkoff was going out of his mind with curiosity. "Weellllllllll, what IS it, for crying out loud???"

"Oh, no. Oh nopey nope. I’m NOT telling." He taunted.

"PUHHHHHLEEEASE," Birkoff begged.

After much vacillating, Michael finally gave in. "Well, all right. I’ll (ahemmmm) tell you. These are ALL of the (ahemmmmm) HOT love letters that Operations wrote to Maddy last year - AND a rather interesting pair of boxer shorts that Maddy was apparently going to give Operations for Valentine’s day. Jurgen must have stolen them from Madeline’s office a while back. He’s been using them to blackmail Operations ever since.

"What’s so bad about love letters?" asked Birkoff. "I don’t get it."

"Oh, buddy," Michael answered. "If you read these, you would. "

"Oh, lemme read one. Please," Birkoff began to whine. Michael hated whining.

"IF and only IF you behave yourself ALL THE WAY back to the Section, I just might…," Michael said.

The impending bribe was enough to keep Birkoff in complete silence the whole drive back.

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

Briefs and Brief Briefings at the Briefing Table:

Maddy was in Operations’ lap. "Don’t fret, dear," she soothed, patting him. "It’ll be all right."

Nikita was in Jurgen’s lap. Jurgen now knew the plot that was unfolding against him. "Don’t fret, dear," she soothed. "It’ll be all right."

Then, as if on cue (Michael is ALWAYS on cue), Birkoff and Michael burst in breathlessly. Operations jumped up, knocking Maddy over, and intercepted quickly, blocking Michael’s way. "GIVE ME THAT," he ordered loudly, grabbing the box.

"Sure," Michael smiled agreeably. He then looked at Birkoff, who smiled back at him and reached into his jacket pocket.

"Now, finally we can have some peace around here," Operations said to Madeline, showing her the box of letters discreetly. She still looked worried. He then turned to Jurgen. "From now on, buddy, you will follow orders. Understood????"

Jurgen had gone snow-white pale and nodded feebly in agreement.

Birkoff looked at Michael. "Should I?" he asked.

"You should," Michael responded.

Birkoff whipped out a pair of white boxer shorts that were covered with big red hearts. Inside each heart were the words, "Property of Madeline," written in black.

"Ooooooh," Madeline exclaimed, nearly fainting.

‘What the……?," Operations asked, confused.

"This was going to be your Valentine’s Day present," Madeline said while blushing. "It was supposed to be a surprise."

"Oh, my. Thank you very much," crooned Operations, blushing furiously. Then he turned to Birkoff, who proudly displayed the prize for all to see. "GIVE ME THAT!!!" he ordered, then suddenly ran out of the room, muttering "Dismissed," as he made a quick exit.

"Walter, please be a dear and prepare everyone for the mission," she said, sobbing, and ran out of the room to go console Operations.

(Boarding the Section Van for the mission):

"No hard feelings, huh?" Michael asked Jurgen.

"No way, man. You did what you had to do," said Jurgen, slapping Michael on the back and planting a huge sticker on his jacket that read, "Captain of the Abeyance Team", and "Shoot Me in the Leg."

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

The Consolation Prize…

Operations was one who firmly believed that the idle mind was the devil’s playground. He liked to keep his kids busy. He sent them all on a mission and ordered them to blow up a building. It didn’t really matter which building - any building would do.

Ops did indeed have amazing powers of deductive reasoning. He concluded that if the idle mind was the devil’s playground, then surely the idle hands were the devil’s toys - and he intended to keep HIS hands busy tonight…

He also firmly believed that Madeline’s office was the devil’s playground - and now he had her there, all to himself, with no one around to disturb them. He was donning nothing but his new heart-covered shorts that proclaimed he was Maddy’s and Maddy’s alone, and "Stayin’ Alive" was blasting on the stereo. Maddy was hot tonight and he himself was in rare form. He knew how to boogie, too. Sometimes life was just so damn good, he thought as he strutted his stuff for her.

_________________________________________________

The Dang Building…

The team was in the Section van, headed for it’s destination.

"What’re we doing, anyway?" asked Nikita curiously.

"We’re gonna blow up the building and then get the hell outa there," Michael offered.

"May I ask why?" Nikita batted her eyelashes and smiled pleasantly. She was trying to make friendly conversation.

"What do you mean, why?" asked Michael. "You know that when the Section says ‘blow up the building,’ you just blow up the dang building, you don’t ask WHY!"

Birkoff looked confused. "But Michael, you have always been one to ask relevant questions at the briefing table."

"Shut up," Michael said. This had really been a bad week for him.

"What’s a dangbuilding, anyhow?" Nikita asked again, suddenly getting a sinking feeling that her curious questions were no longer welcome.

"Shouldn’t we get the hell outa there and THEN blow up the building?" Jurgen was putting his two cents worth in.

Michael thanked his stars when at last they reached their destination. All of them scattered about, running like mad and feeling very important, scaling walls and crawling through windows. Finally, all of the charges were set.

All of them regrouped, running like mad and feeling very important, and headed back for the Section van.

"Whew," Jurgen exclaimed as he wiped his brow and sat down. He wasn’t really in tiptop condition.

"Do it," Michael said to Birkoff, signaling him to ignite the charge.

Birkoff pressed the little red button, but nothing happened. Dead silence.

"What the…?" Michael asked him.

"The charge failed. It’ll have to be done manually," said Birkoff.

"How much time to I have?" Michael asked him.

"Less than one minute," Birkoff answered, looking a little panicky. Despite the abuse Michael heaped on him regularly, he really did look up to the guy.

Michael headed out of the van to sacrifice himself for the sake of blowing up the dang building. Nikita looked a little shocked but refused to say anything but "Hmmmmf," as she looked up at the ceiling, showing no concern for poor Michael.

"Wait, stop!" said Jurgen, pulling a gun on Michael. "Let me go. You know I’m not gonna make it anyway. I just about had a coronary running back to the van."

"Jurgen, NOOOO!!!" cried Nikita, looking distressed.

"Put the gun down and get back in the van," Michael ordered him and ran out anyway.

Jurgen then ran out after him and shot him in the leg. Michael tumbled to the ground, clutching his leg. Jurgen ran toward the building to ignite the charge. "I love you, man!!!!!" Michael called out to him.

30 seconds later, BOOOOOOOOMMMMM!!!!! The entire building went up in flames.

Michael hobbled back into the van. Nikita scooted over to sit by him, nuzzling her face in his shirt. "Oh, well. I really didn’t like Jurgs that much anyway, she whispered. "Easy come, easy go."

Just as she said this, the Section van’s door creaked open. In stumbled Jurgen, badly out of breath again, in time to hear her callous remark.

"You’re alive!!!" Nikita shouted, practically falling over in shock.

Jurgen and Michael suddenly looked at each other.

"The charge never needed to be set manually, Nikita," Jurgen offered. This was just Michael’s and my little test to see which one of us you were willing to see die, to see which one of us you really care about. Then he looked at Michael, who was still clutching his hurt leg.

"And the beauty of it is," he said, slapping Michael on the back, "that she doesn’t give a damn about either one of us!"

"Like, OMIGOD," Nikita said, "It was just another big manipulation."

Jurgen and Michael suddenly fell on the floor, clutching their abdomens and rolling, doubled over with laughter. It started out in small bursts, but pretty soon they were absolutely cramped with hysteria. Tears were rolling down their faces. Nikita had been had by both of them, and had darn good. She looked decidedly uncomfortable, realizing that she had lost out big time. She scowled mercilessly at both of them.

Then, suddenly Michael realized what he was laughing about.

"Wait a minute," he said, sitting up. "She doesn’t give a damn about me?" he asked Jurgen. "That’s not funny," he sniffed, suddenly looking despondent.

"Oh, Michael. I’m sorry, man," Jurgen consoled. "Sometimes the truth hurts."

"Owwwwwie," he said.

"Hey, but wait a minute," Jurgen paused. Nikita sure comes running when YOU call her. Every time you call, she drops everything and runs, whether you get her code name right or not. Surely that must mean something."

"Well, you’ve got a good point, there," Michael agreed, looking somewhat encouraged.

"Yeah, Jurgen’s got a good point, there, " Nikita added, glancing over at Michael hopefully. Perhaps the situation could be salvaged after all.

That was all the coaxing they needed. Both Nikita and Michael were in each other’s arms embracing faster than you could say, "DUHHHHHH." Making up was always the best part, after all.

"Can I stroke your face, now?" Michael begged her. "It’s been a long, long time…"

"Hmmmmmf, too long," she said, offering him her cheek.

"Whewwww, that is one high maintenance chick you got there, " Birkoff said to Michael.

"Yep, and she’s all mine," Michael said.

"Remember our deal," Jurgen reminded Michael. "I’m outa here, and officially dead to the Section."

"Yeah, yeah. Go ahead, get out of here," Michael said.

"Ever think about marriage counseling for a replacement career?" Birkoff asked Jurgen.

"Remember, I love you, man," Jurgen said to Michael, as he stood in the doorway of the Section Van.

"I love you, too, man," Michael answered him. "Now hit the road, Jack."

"Well, bye, everyone. It’s been real," Jurgen said before disappearing.

The End.

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

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