Warning to All! Michael's on his way!
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"There you are!" Michael exclaimed, bursting into the den, his long coat flaring dramatically behind him.

The woman at the computer desk looked up, startled. She had been typing for hours, her hair unkempt. She was clad only in her nightgown.

Damn! She cursed herself. Why did she wear flannel, tonight of all nights.

"Michael!" she gasped. "How did you get here? How did you find me?"

"Section One IS the most covert organization on the planet," he explained gently, seeing her apprehension. "Lorraine, did you think we wouldn't notice you? Did you think we don't read everything you write?" he said intensely.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed, frightened. Were they going to cancel her for revealing the workings of Section One? Was she going to be killed because of her knowledge of how their devious mind games worked?

He knelt in front of her, twirling her in her swivel chair to face him. His strong arms on either side of her chair trapped her.

"Don't be sorry," he said in his softly accented voice, his green eyes looking deeply into hers.

"Then you're not angry I left you out in the snow, bleeding, about to be eaten by wolves?" She sighed and went on. "I didn't mean to hurt you. It was a plot device, I swear! I had to find a way to get you tied up and naked in bed with Nikita.."

"I know," he said in his sensuous voice, smiling. "I rather enjoyed that story..."

"Then... what do you want?" Lorraine asked, hoping her voice sounded sexy despite her flannel.

He leaned his face close to hers and caressed her cheek with his, rubbing the slight stubble thrillingly against her skin. He put his full lips next to her ear and breathed into it.

"We want to recruit you.... you and your friends...."

"Recruit me?!?!"

"Yes," Michael replied. "You Story Board writers know how to get inside our heads. You know what buttons to push. You can make us do anything you want. You are more Section than Section."

He gave her neck a nibble. "You'll work with Madeleine..."

"Oh, no, not Madeleine! She'll train us?" Lorraine asked in trepidation.

"No," said Michael. "YOU'LL train HER..."

Michael stood up and looked down at her, his voice intense and serious. "Give me the names of everyone, all the writers. I also want to know the new location of Time-Out..."

"No! Never!" she cried. "You'll have to torture me first!"

Lorraine jumped up and ran to the couch. Removing baskets of unfolded laundry from it, she lay down, willing to sacrifice herself.

"Don't make me do this," he said, clenching his perfectly formed jaw. "I don't want to hurt you..."

"I DARE you! Make me talk!" she said bravely, arranging the flannel a little higher up her legs, revealing her bunny slippers.

Michael lunged at her, falling on top of her and pulling her head up to meet his kiss. He took her mouth punishingly. She tasted of coffee and cheesy poufs. It turned him on.

Soon he was gasping and moaning, his hands running over the flannel. "You are like this material..." he groaned loudly.

Old and worn? Ratty and fuzzy? Wrinkled? She wondered.

"Soft and intimate," he breathed. "The color matches your eyes..."

Lorraine looked down. Her nightgown was red.

The torture was going well so far. "HA! Give me more! I can take it!" she challenged.

His eyes glittered. "Give me the names, and I'll..."

"What? You'll do what? I can keep this up all night.."

"So can I," promised Michael.

He looked at the basket of clothes, then back at Lorraine. "Where is you laundry room?" he asked.

"Enjoue! Kate! Red! Norma! Lady! Zzoomama! Nikita507! Ranma! 'Chelle!" she screamed. She took a breath. "Mln! Ljc! T'nt! Pbj!" She took another. "Hoppasai! Taichi! Catsma! Holly! Scoo! Ursula! Kylie! Sis! Jane! Tina!"

She told him every name she could think of. The only names she left out were Jeff, Newton, and Ron.

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I'm sorry, what can I say? I broke under his exquisite touches.. uh, I mean TORTURE...

So, I have to warn you, fellow writers and fans, he's coming to your house next! Michael's on his way! GET READY!!!!

P.S. Oh, yeah. Here's a hint. He really gets turned on when you yell, "RECRUIT ME! RECRUIT ME HARDER, SPYBOY!!!"

Grin. Good Luck. See you in Section.

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