NC-17 in places for violence and sexually explicit scenes

Unchain the colours before my eyes,
Yesterday's sorrows,
Tomorrow's white lies.
Scan the horizon,
The clouds take me higher,
I shall return from out of the fire.

Tears for remembrance,

And tears for joy,
Tears for somebody and this lonely boy.
Out in the madness,
The all seeing eye,
Flickers above us,
To light up the sky.

Unchain the colours before my eyes,
Yesterday's sorrows,
Tomorrow's white lies.
Scan the horizon,
The clouds take me higher,
I shall return from out of the fire.

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

He could feel her arms around his waist holding him close but allowing him to continue the rhythmic swaying to and fro. The rocking gave him purpose, it had to be done, something to concentrate on - and then when the thoughts came rushing back he could push them away with a physical mantra - back and forth - back and forth - back and forth , banishing the thoughts that clamoured to be heard. But no - not today - maybe tomorrow when he was feeling better, just rock for now - that's good, not so easy on his side - but he could smell her fragrance and feel her warmth - they threatened to bring other sensations to mind so he rocked slightly faster to deter them, no not today. He then thought he felt rain - warm rain - an occasional splash that hit his neck and trickled under the fabric of the jacket. Why so few large splashes - he felt them tickle his skin- insinuating their way into the straitjacket and caressing his back. Why couldn't he move his arms? They had tied them behind him - they said it was for his own good - but if that was true why did the man in white look so sad as he did it - why had he said 'sorry'?

Just rock - that was the answer - no more questions - he'd given them the answer to the other question- he'd known it all the time - but never when they asked the question, why was that? Perhaps they would let him go now - no the woman with him said he had to stay - what was her name again ? What was his name - names didn't matter just labels - he knew she had golden hair - it glowed. He wasn't here any more - just a shadow - where was the rest of him? He had gone somewhere safe and he'd promised not to tell them where - it was a secret. They had not asked the question so he didn't have to give an answer. She was talking to him again- he heard the words - the sounded pretty, sprinkling down over his aching head like flower petals and they smelt of lavender. Where were the colours? - He couldn't find them either - he would have to shut his eyes then he could see them again- there they were - the flowers were trying to grow but all he could see was the dark red blossom that smelt of rotting meat - he gagged involuntarily - the woman holding him pulled him closer - she whispered a new word-

"Michael."

So that was it - a name - it was as if she had woven her hair into his name and had thrown it down into his pit of despair. From deep inside the husk that had been Michael, the man caught sight of the golden braid - he looked at from behind the bars that caged his mind - should he climb up and escape? No yet - it was a way out - but did he want to go there?

A lifeline made of two syllables; it dangled in front of him tantalising his soul, but it wasn't ready yet, it hurt...

Keep rocking - back and forth - back and forth - back and forth

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

She heard him choking and hugged him tighter - he was thin - he'd never recovered properly after the fall in the mudslide. Dr Gilmore had said that they had not been able to feed him since bringing him back in - and he had refused to take intravenous feeding, continually ripping his arm free of the IV line. They could have tried sedating him and then forced nutrients into his veins - but the doctor said he had not wanted to take that course with Michael - once taken it would be difficult to retreat from. He had told her that Michael had no will to survive and that he believed nothing was to be achieved by strapping his body to a table, sedating it and keeping it alive by force.

She was grateful that the doctor had allowed him some space to come to terms with what had happened - now it would be up to her. She did not want to hazard a guess as to what had blown up between Operations and Madeline - but they had given her free reign to try to mend him. She smiled to herself as she recalled what amounted to an apology from Operations - he had said that he should have 'paid more heed to her concerns regarding Karoff'. Nikita wondered where she was now - they would find her and then she would pay penance for her sins. The tears trickled down her face and splashed onto his neck - she watched as they crept inside the coarse material of the straitjacket.

She scowled at it and made the decision that it had to go - she carefully moved him back into a sitting position - still rocking, she leaned over behind him and undid the straps, gently releasing his cramped arms. She rubbed them gently as they hung limply by his sides, then she slipped his them out of the sleeves, and then pulled the ghastly garment away from him throwing it to one side. It was then that she saw the bloodstained bandage that had been wound around his left wrist. She gathered the hand into hers and raised it to her lips - kissing it reverently.

It wasn't easy with her aching thigh that was still recovering from a bullet wound, but she moved around to face him and collecting his broken body into her arms and against her chest, she wrapped her legs around his hips. His face rested cheek to cheek with hers, as it had when he had danced with her in her apartment after losing his memory. Slowly but surely she felt his arms come to life - he raised them from his sides and placing his hands on her back he hugged her. The rocking came to a halt and then she felt the warmth and wetness of his tears as they slid between their two touching faces - acting as a conduit for the emotions she was scared of releasing.

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

Nikita looked him in the eyes, and beyond the lashes she saw a flicker of emotion - sorrow mingled with fear. She kissed his forehead gently - taking in the huge dark rings beneath his eyes.

"I bet it's been a while since you slept."

His reply was a slight shrug.

She sat up slowly and rested him in the corner of the room - he had tried to hold onto her but she had firmly pulled away - he wrapped his arms around his chest and began to resume the rocking.

Nikita went to the door and switched the lights out -

"Birkoff - I know you're listening - turn off the audio on the surveillance and keep the lights off, I don't think he'll try to hurt himself with me here. No disruption please - I'll call in if there's a problem - OK?"

"Gotcha Nikita - the door is locked - you have the code to open it from the inside - good luck."

"Thanks."

She reached inside her baggy shirt pockets and drew out a small fat candle, lavender scented and a box of matches. She crouched down on the floor and setting the candle on the floor she struck a match, the sulphurous smell drifting up her nostrils. She carefully lit the wick and allowed the warm yellow glow to suffuse the interior of the room. It's light cast softened shadows in gentle contrast to the harsh outlines cast on the walls by the glare of the fluorescent light strip. Slowly the scent wafted into the room, dispelling the antiseptic smells of disinfectant. She wanted to create an atmosphere that was safe and not threatening - the bright lights had aided surveillance but had driven him further into himself.

There were two blankets next to the door where she had dropped them earlier. She had chosen them for their softness of texture and warmth. They were thick woollen affairs almost like rugs - there were no other comforts in what had become Michael's cell. She carried them over to where he sat, still rocking. She straightened them out to cover a patch of the cold concrete floor and then returned to his side -

"Michael - I want you to trust me. Can you do that?"

He frowned as if he was being quizzed -

"Is this a test?"

"No - just you and me - you remember who I am don't you?"

He smiled in a pure touching way that only the innocent and the mad are capable of - and Nikita's heart broke at his words-

"... you are sunlight ... you are golden..."

"Come here - I won't hurt you-"

"Have you come for me?"

"Yes - but you have to let me."

She guided him down onto the blankets that she had placed in the shadows beyond the candlelight that flickered sensuously on the walls and ceiling.

His chest was naked now that the straitjacket had been discarded - she felt the skin and it was cool to the touch. She lay alongside him and pulled him over onto his good side - the one that had not been injured. Then caressing his soft curly hair she leaned in close and kissed him on the forehead then the eyelids then along his nose. Then cupping his chin in her hand she kissed his cheeks and then his lips - brushing her lips against his - no aggression - just contact, but she could feel herself becoming aroused by the feel of his skin next to hers.

She smiled as she felt his right arm snake out to snag her waist and pull her towards his body. No matter where his mind had retreated to the chemistry between their bodies could conquer all obstacles - intuitively he sought out her mouth and taking the lower lip between his lips he subconsciously returned her kisses. His lips were dry so she moistened them with the tip of her tongue, tasting him, surreptitiously savouring the stolen pleasure while he deepened the kiss.

She wanted to grab him by the shoulders and beg for him to take her, but knew the way to release his soul from its self-imposed incarceration would be thorough subtle exhortation not an all out assault.

She settled for tugging at the elasticised waist of his pants so she could slide a hand down into them to feel the firm perfect roundness of his butt - it was designed to be grasped fervently in acts of unbridled passion, but for now she exercised control and just run her hands over the smooth outlines. Her attentions did not go unrewarded and she could hear him gasp as he took in a deep breath of air. Not yet she told herself - not yet.

They lay there for hours it seemed teasing each others bodies like sleepy lovers do - stroking and feeling, nuzzling close, kissing lazily their mouths slack and their lips soft. An exploration of the surface of their passion. Scanning the exterior of the desire that lay deep within them - alongside the other emotions, which had to be handled with care....

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

She held him as he fell asleep - exhaustion finally taking its toll - but she was relieved, as it was a sign that he trusted her, that he felt safe in her arms. She awaited the nightmares that she knew would come - she tried to imagine what he was going though, what he had gone through - not knowing nightmare from reality - hardly surprising as they had been one and the same. She frowned as she could make out marks on his skin by the dim fluttering candlelight - his back bruised, his knuckles reddened where he had struggled against the men who had strapped him up. If the Section Michael could have seen what was happening to his body he would surely have been mortified by the humiliation. She shuddered involuntarily and regretted it as it roused him from his slumbers with a start -

"Simone?"

Her words caught in her throat - the last time she had heard him ask that, the answer had almost destroyed him.

"Shhhhh ....don't try to talk - are you cold?"

Michael thought for a moment - was he cold? As in without feelings - without heat, without warmth, without life - why was it that cold seemed to conjure up a list of absences? He supposed the answer to all of the possibilities would be yes, so he nodded his head... yes he was missing....

The golden haired being that he now knew was not Simone cradled him in her arms and drew a blanket around his shoulders - he could discern the sensation of textures against bare skin and the smell of wool, he smiled to himself - as he recalled the feeling of comfort.

Nikita caught the smile and hugged him closer- poor Michael she thought, not for the first time and certainly not for the last.

She wanted to feel his skin next to hers so much it ached and she wriggled out of her drawstring pants and then her shirt, then taking his hands she spoke as if to a child -

"I'm going to take these pants off now - OK Michael - you'll feel warmer without them - OK?"

She almost felt guilty - having lascivious thoughts about the man with the child-like smile - however, the rest of his body was so obviously that of an experienced, mature man that she was not put off for long. Without clothes he pondered absently - why not, every other barrier had gone, what could they protect him from now? So he nodded, signalling for her to do as she wished.

Nikita rolled him onto his back and then taking the waistband of his pants in a firm grip she pulled it down over his flat stomach, over the jutting hipbones beneath which the twin valleys flowed down to a common point. She should have known he'd be without underwear, too late to stop now...She slid her hands under his buttocks raising them up off the surface of the blanket so that she could tug the fabric free of his tight desirable butt. However, the front had caught itself up on his semi- erect cock that seemed to be straining to get closer to her through the stretchy material. Not wanting to let go of the waist band for fear of hurting his recently injured hip, Nikita bent down and took the front of garment in her teeth and lifted it up only to find her actions counterproductive as they caused the obstruction to grow in dimension. She managed to lift the edge of the waist band up and over his erection and as she brought it down underneath, she could feel the hard warmth of him rub against her face, the scent of him flooding her senses. It was more than she could take - unable to keep hold of the pants due to the saliva that suddenly pooled in her mouth making the material soggy between her teeth; she pushed the offending pants down unceremoniously. Then she fell upon him using the wetness in her mouth to good use, sliding her tongue over the tip of him and taking him slowly and purposefully into her mouth. He struggled slightly beneath her and she could sense his breathing rate increase as he began to gasp for air. Afraid he would panic, she reached up to grab hold of his hands, and squeezing them gently begged silently that he would be reassured. After sucking at him softly as if he were an ice-cream cone to be licked a little at a time to make the sweetness last longer... she reluctantly moved back to lie along side him - licking her lips and imagining how it would feel to have him firmly embedded in another part of her that had also become so wet she was dripping with anticipation.

She thought maybe she should slow down - after all she had only meant to feel more of his bare skin against her and now here he lay with his pants rolled down enough to expose his hips and the tops of his lean thighs.

However, Michael's arousal was sufficient to drive his reflexes into action, he took hold of her hands and pressing them to her sides, he rolled on top of her, slowly gyrating his hips so that his erect cock could lubricate itself in the moisture that had leaked through the thin fabric of her panties. He was breathing faster now, his eyes shut, he nuzzled her face kissing randomly until his lips met hers and then blindly pursuing its prey his tongue pushed between her parted lips to conquer her mouth. She felt him try to penetrate her elsewhere - instinctively wanting to be one with her. She moved from under his kisses to get in some air - she mumbled to herself -

"Oh God Michael you feel so good - "

To her heart's astonishment and immediate delight she heard him mumble back into her hair -

"My dearest Kita - where were you? I need you --now "

Inside the sweat sheened body of the man a barred door swung open and the route for his soul's escape was taken.

A fire was lit between the two lovers - one that burnt with the magical ferocity of dragon's breath - a funeral pyre for past sorrows and one from which a phoenix could arise from the ashes of guilt.

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

"Kita?" His voice was higher than usual - on the verge of panic - the precipitous return towards sanity found him half-dressed and clambering over a semi- naked Nikita on blankets in the corner of a candle-lit bare room. It was perhaps not surprising that he should be freaked out by the situation.

"It's OK Michael - you're safe - it's just me - no-one else around..." she coaxed him, worried that he would withdraw again.

"I'm in Section?" He asked his eyes darting to all points in the room looking for surveillance.

"Yes."

"Then there is no alone - if you believe that you are less sane than I am..."

He pulled his body away from hers wrapping the blankets about his body like a protective cocoon, sitting up, his back against the wall. This time there was no rocking, he was now aware - painfully so - of all that had transpired. He was damaged goods as far as Section was concerned - he wondered why he was still alive. It was unusual for Operations to be quite so benevolent.

Nikita was determined not to lose him again so fast - she made a deliberate assault on the blanket and wormed her way under its trailing edge so that she sat next to him.

"Michael - I'm cold - let me steal some heat please?"

He looked at her through suspicious green eyes, but could see no harm. He lifted the covers enough for her to snuggle up alongside him. She slid her arm around his waist - using her little finger to feel for clothing- there was none, which meant his pants were still rolled down over his thighs... she slowly moved her hand down his leg until she felt the waistband digging into his thigh.

"You can either take these off completely or let me pull them up - any preferences?" she drawled, stroking her fingertips along the dip along the inside of his hips. The sharp intake of breath from him made her hope her ploy was working.

Whilst the clothing remained clinging to him he was not completely vulnerable - but without it she could make skin-to-skin contact and give him her strength, sitting there scared and semi-clad he was in a netherworld, neither here nor there.

"I'll do it -," he mumbled, an urge deep within him swaying his decision, he couldn't pinpoint the source or reason for the impulse, beyond a desire to be able to feel this woman touch more of him.

He held tightly to the blanket with one hand while using the other to strip the pants from his legs and throw them onto the floor. While he did that, she discretely removed what was left of her tangled bra and sodden panties.

"That's better," purred Nikita.

She was still trying to suppress the lust that simmered between her legs; she wanted him badly. Although one part of her felt that the intimacy of sex would draw him back into her world, another part warned that it could drive him further into his own - which direction he went depended on her approach. The notion frightened her, the fact that in the next few hours she held his sanity and life in her hands.

She moved inside the blanket gradually insinuating herself between it and Michael's body - she could the warmth emanating from him, his proximity drawing her like a magnet.

She knelt over him - her legs spread either side of his, the moisture from her smearing onto the taut muscles of his thighs. His hands left the blanket and settled onto her knees - tracing a path upward with a mixture of trepidation and fervent craving. He was worried about the bandage around her thigh, it was trying to remind him of something, he didn't want to touch it but it was stopping him from going any further.

She felt his hands on her legs as they sent tingles up her spine, his eyes gazed adoringly at her but she could see the confusion, almost as if he wasn't entirely sure of his actions and wanted her to guide him. She took his hands in hers and without breaking eye contact she pulled them along her thighs towards her wet core - they both sighed simultaneously as his fingers delved into the pools of moisture. His instincts took over as he expertly parted the sensitive folds of flesh and he ran his fingertips along the hardened clit. Any pretence Nikita may have had about taking control of proceedings took wing as the waves of pleasure rippled through her being, washing away all reason and conscious thought, beyond the need to have him inside her.

As Nikita arched her back in animalistic rapture, she closed her eyes and moaned softly. Then she felt Michael move his hands way - the withdrawal sudden - but before she could check that he was still alright she had her answer as his strong hands slid under her thighs and lifted her up and onto his hardened length. Holding her raised like that he rubbed his cock against her hot, wet centre, allowing the juices to lubricate his arousal, teasing her clit with the tip until she wanted to push down and envelop him. However, her attempts to do so were in vain, his arms resisted her impulse and she knew instinctively that he had to be in control of this. Her wait was brief though and he pulled her onto his cock, impaling her upon his body, for a while he held her still, lowering her gradually, feeling the warm tight walls of her gripping onto him, sucking him in. She groaned with delight as he filled her completely, fulfilling a hunger that had almost become unbearable.

Michael put his hands around her waist and drew her closer to him - her breasts brushed his chest for a moment before he crushed her into an ardent embrace, wanting to become part of her. Her lips sought out his and they kissed with passionate abandon, their tongues entwined, their hands in one another's hair, past all cognisance of their surroundings, completely given over to another dimension in which only the union of their souls and bodies existed. Nikita held him fiercely not wanting to let him retreat, and Michael clasped the shining locks of her hair, as something deep within him urged him on - an image of a Rapunzel like princess rescuing him with a golden braid flashing through his mind.

He pushed himself away from the wall and moving his hands onto her shoulders he rolled Nikita onto the floor beneath him, as the urgency of his needs overtook him. He thrusted into her savagely, needing release of the pressure that threatened to overwhelm him, he could feel her writhe under his body, cries of ecstasy rushing out from between her moistened lips, her breathing becoming faster and more frenetic as he continued to stroke faster. They reached their orgasms as one - shuddering in a climax of bliss and exquisite, almost painful intensity.

Michael's back was wet with sweat as he collapsed onto the trembling body of Nikita, the drenched curls of his hair sticking to the damp skin above her breasts. As he rested his head near her heart, he listened to it beating, comforting him. He could hear her breathing change from the fast shallow breaths to slower deeper ones.

Although she was over heated and sticky she didn't dare lose contact with him, so she reached out to wrap her arms about his shoulders and hugged him close. It was then that she sensed the sobs that began to wrack his shaking body and shortly after felt the hot tears that spilled from his eyes across her breasts.

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

As the post-coital depression hit him, Michael felt the bandage on her leg -he had done that - he had shot her, now it came back to him ... he tried to recoil from contact with her - but her arms held him strongly in place -

" No - I shot you Nikita..."

"No Michael - you're not going any where - I want you here, next to me - you've done nothing wrong - you are innocent - completely without blame! Is that what it is? What's finally thrown you this time that you are innocent? Is your mind desperately seeking a way of making you guilty so you can flagellate yourself over this one as well - another helping of angst to pile into the cart of it that you drag behind you every day of your life? Michael - it's not even your fault I got shot - I landed on you when I came barging through that door, and believe me I would rather any day have a bullet go through my leg than your brain - Oh God Michael - forgive yourself - this is none of your doing!"

The sobbing had begun to recede as Nikita held him close and stroked his hair, now she kissed him softly on the top of his head, letting out a weary sigh - he was far from mended, but at least he was responding to her.

"I need to get out of here." His voice was trembling but the conviction behind the words was steady - he had to get away from this room that imprisoned him. " Will they let us go?"

"Yeah - sure - how about my place?"

"Is it safe?"

"It will be - I promise you..."

Nikita helped him put the drawstring pants back on and then after getting dressed herself, she wrapped a blanket around his shoulders. The next problem would be in getting him back to her place without his condition becoming apparent to every person between here and the nearest exit point. It occurred to her that a back way would be better and she re-established contact with Birkoff for long enough to arrange for a wheelchair to be left outside the room and the way cleared between his quarters and the exit she had chosen. Her car would be waiting in ten minutes.

She persuaded Michael to get in the wheel chair more easily than she liked - under normal circumstances he would have dragged himself along with two broken legs rather than willingly admit weakness. She helped him in to the passenger seat of the car and he looked around vacantly as if the surroundings meant nothing to him....

The drive back to Nikita's part of town was quiet - although she had to put the heating on in the car when he started shivering...

Once in her apartment she led him carefully towards the raised deck of her sleeping quarters... She walked stiffly - the thigh injury throbbing painfully, but she tried to suppress her reactions, as they would only remind Michael that he had shot her....

"Tired?" she asked knowing the answer no matter what he chose to say, the dark rings around his eyes made his red rimmed eyes look sunken - he was exhausted to the point of collapse - he had probably not dared to sleep in Section ...

"Yes - but sleep is not safe, they wait for me there. If I stay awake they can't find me...." Damn, she thought, he's becoming incoherent again.

She sat him down on the edge of the bed and leaned him over onto his side so that he was curled up in a foetal position.

She went into her small kitchen and made two mugs of steaming herbal tea - orange and cinnamon- to ease tired minds and allow restful slumbers said the packet...well let's see what they can do with tormented souls she thought carrying the mugs up the steps towards Michael. She crouched on the floor beside the bed and looked into his eyes - he was still awake.

"Michael - have something to drink..." she held the mug to his lips, urging him to try some.

"Is it drugged? - Simone made me take the drugs, she said they would make me better...."

"Hush - Michael that wasn't Simone..."

"Who was it?"

"We don't know - a bad person, she used you."

"Where is she now?"

"We don't know." She admitted, worried at the effect the news would have on Michael, but he didn't seem to have heard.

"Will they find her?"

"I will find her Michael - she can run but she can't hide from me."

Nikita sat on the edge of the bed - her arm around Michael's shoulder supporting him as he took a few sips of the sweetened tea.

He thought it tasted of late summer ...

ripe fruits and brightly coloured leaves falling in cascades of orange, red and yellow to the ground -

Nikita watched as his eyelids fluttered and closed - she smiled as she lowered him onto the pillows and turned away to get out of the section clothing and into a loose robe. As she wrapped the belt around her waist she was startled by a sharp cry from the bed -

The leaves that had fallen to the ground were rotting - no longer crisp, but slimy and putrescent, the smells of decay reaching up from the ground to invade his senses - the fungi erupting in sickening shades of grey and green to destroy the brightness -

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

"Michael - " she shook his shoulders and was shocked by his reaction as his eyes suddenly snapped open and he grabbed her arms and flipped her onto her back on the mattress beside him - he possessed the strength of those pushed over the edge of sanity.

"Make them stop it!" he shouted, shaking her roughly.

"Stop what Michael? Who are you talking about?" She was scared by the crazed look in his eyes - he seemed incredibly angry at something or someone - but she did not know what and dreaded to imagine what demons now occupied his mind to ambush him whenever he shut his eyes to sleep.

She relaxed her muscles and then tensed up shoving her arms apart - wrenching them from his grip but not without incurring bruises around her biceps. Then she brought up her healthy leg - kneeing him in the solar plexus to wind him - this gave her the time to roll out from under his body.

But Michael was quicker than she thought he would be and he shot out a hand to grab her elbow, pulling her back onto the bed pinning her down by her wrists as he licked his lips, breathing fast, looking about as if there were hidden enemies in the shadows.

"You know - they're destroying the colours - "

"What do you mean Michael? - You're not making sense!"

"If I don't watch them they steal the light - if you don't watch they paint grey over all the beauty and no-one will see them do it and it will be too late...." He spoke rapidly, feverishly, as if in a hurry to pass on his fears before he was caught.

"Michael - who are they?" she demanded.

He paused and bit his lower lip as if he was an insecure child not sure if she was one she could be trusted with the truth. He shook his head frightened by an unseen horror that gripped his heart.

"I can't tell you - they would kill you if you knew- you are one of the colours they most want to destroy." He was on the verge of panic - and she knew she had to calm him down somehow.

"Tell me about the colours Michael..."

"There used to be more - but not any more, they kill them, they only like black and grey..."

A vacant look once more descended onto his features - his eyes became washed out as if they were a faded copy of what used to be there. Just as she thought he would start to block the blood supply to her hands he relaxed his grip and sat up holding his head and began to rock again - she couldn't bear for him to return to that state once more -

"No Michael - they haven't!!!" She screamed. Then crossing the room fast before he could stop her she flung open the doors to the wardrobe and begun hurling out blouses, skirts and dresses in a myriad of colours - turquoise, shocking pink, canary yellow, deepest orange. She threw the clothes over the bed one by one - showering him with her garments from soft fabrics of wool and cashmere to delicate lace items from her underwear drawer. Then pulling open a drawer she trailed scarves of many colours across the pillows like banners and finally from a small cabinet she yanked open a drawer and pulled out a box of sun glasses, the frames multi-hued - and hurled the entire contents into the air - so they bounced off the walls and lamps before scattering over the bed to join the contents of her wardrobe.

Out of breath she turned to face him - he was still sitting on the bed, but caught up in a rainbow of her clothing. But he was no longer rocking - instead he was holding a soft powder blue sweater to his face - inhaling her scent and rubbing its softness against his cheeks. His lips were slightly parted and a ghost of a smile haunted his exquisitely shaped lips.

"Michael?" She leapt onto the bed - grabbing his arms now desperate to drag him back to her world - she needed him there beside her, back from the dark side of the mirror.

"Nikita?" he whispered and then took her face in his own hands - caressing her temples, then her cheeks and lastly used his thumbs to gently touch her lips. Then she saw the light return to his eyes, as it seemed to her that the dull moss green transformed itself into crystal clear emerald. Taking a deep breath Michael pulled her to him, capturing her lips in his - kissing her hungrily, she gasped as he took her by surprise but returned the kiss with relish. Consumed by a heightened passion inflamed by the heat between them, they fell back into the morass of multi- coloured dresses and skirts, rolling over and over becoming one with each other -

...and out of the rotting mulch rose fresh green leaves that unfurled into the warmth of the sun, bud after bud opening , flowers of many colours spreading open their petals and basking in the glow ...

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

Nikita could feel his soul returning from the hidden recesses of his mind - this was no longer the physical union of two bodies, but a spiritual reunion - she could feel his heart open to her, letting her in.

As they lay amongst the freshly laundered underwear and pressed dresses from the dry cleaners Nikita heard a rumbling sound and realised it was Michael's stomach -

"When did you last eat?" She asked in an accusatory tone.

"I don't remember - in Med lab I must have been on a drip I suppose." Michael seemed unable to recall what had happened there.

"Not quite - you kept ripping them out,"- she turned his arm over to show him the scars on the insides of his elbows where the needles had been violently pulled from the blood vessels tearing the skin and bruising the delicate tissues beneath.

"Oh." He looked up unsure of himself momentarily.

"Come on Michael - I'm hungry as well - let me get us some breakfast. Why don't you freshen up?"

"Are you trying to tell me something?" He looked vaguely embarrassed.

"Well - I bet you can't last remember when you had a shower?" She grabbed his arm as he moved away from her worried that his lack of hygiene had repelled her-

"Just a wash - we can both shower down after breakfast OK?" she smiled at him and was rewarded by one of his shy smiles that were so rare, they should be preserved in film for posterity.

As Michael disappeared into the bathroom Nikita hobbled down to her kitchen, she threw open her fridge door - all she had was a loaf of stale bread, a box of eggs, a carton of milk and a punnet of yellow raspberries. A Swedish friend had once told her that they were much sweeter then the red variety.

Nikita was by no means incompetent in the kitchen - she just chose not to bother most of the time unless entertaining - even then she preferred to get a takeaway- less dishes to wash.

Fifteen minutes later she returned to the bedroom area of her apartment with a tray loaded up with plates and bowls of the most colourful china she could find - bold stripes of yellow and blue on white. Also were two brightly patterned mugs and a matching jug in which was ice-cold milk. There were also two eggcups - in a similar blue and yellow design to the plates. A salt cellar and pepper mill crowded into the gaps left between the plates and next to a toast rack filled with neat triangles of toast. Two woven baskets perched on top of the plates one containing a clutch of brown soft-boiled eggs and the other a heap of plump yellow raspberries.

As she sat on the edge of the bed Michael came through rubbing his hair with a towel while another clung to his slender hips. She absently thought that he had decided to have a shower after all - perhaps she could persuade him to take another one later.

"Sit," she commanded and poured two mugs of milk - she subconsciously had avoided glass it occurred to her as she saw the ragged dressing around his wrist.

She passed him the milk and started to drink her own peering over the top of the mug to make sure he was following suit... It had been a while since he had drunk properly from anything but a straw poked in his face by one of the nurses. Milk dribbled from his lips and cascaded down his chin - Nikita put down her mug and leaned over to take his so she could lap at the milk with her tongue. She sucked it from his stubble that was almost long enough to be a close cropped beard - the bristles were soft, not sharp and she rubbed up against him like a cat... purring with delight.

Nikita sat back again and taking an egg she tapped it with the back of a spoon and slowly peeled the shell from the top. She couldn't help smiling and trying not to wriggle as Michael slipped behind her and was peeling away her robe with as much care as she was removing the eggshell.

"Hey - stop that - you need feeding..." she protested half-heartedly.

She placed the prepared egg in an eggcup and taking off the top she dipped a toast finger into the bright golden yolk - watching as it oozed over the top of the shell and onto the eggcup - she lifted it up and turned to hand feed him. His lips parted as he let her slide the egg-coated bread into his mouth - he bit down - firmly, and then chewed slowly licking the crumbs from the corner of his mouth.... Nikita ate the leftover piece and egg ran down her lips - which Michael then licked carefully away.

"Eggs should be eaten with salt - lie down -"

She looked confused - especially by the mischievous look that sparkled in his eyes - she lay back on the bed and watched in amusement as he poured salt into her navel. Then taking another piece of toast he dipped it in the still warm, runny yolk and then before taking a bite he dipped the tip of his tongue into her saltcellar. Then taking hold of the toast finger with his teeth he lowered his face next to Nikita's so she could take the other end between her own teeth. They tore the toast in half and chewed quickly before swallowing - leaving their mouths free to indulge in yet another kiss - this time less urgent and gentler.

Nikita rolled over to grab the basket of yellow raspberries and squashed one on Michael's chest - he then leant over to slurp up the juices that trickled down her chin. She felt him pushing her back down before he proceeded to lay out the rest of the raspberries in a spiral path that led around her breasts and finished at her nipples. He then assiduously followed the trail with his lips - taking it in turn between eating the sweet fruit himself and passing it from his lips to Nikita's mouth, sometimes pausing to lick the juices from her mouth and chin. As he worked his way to her nipples she could feel them harden and become erect as his warm breath and soft lips came ever closer - eventually he suckled at them - using just his lips to begin with, kneading them into erect peaks, before caressing them with his sticky wet, tongue.

Nikita was being slowly driven wild with desire - she could hardly wait any longer - she pulled him down onto her body and they made sweet, tender love, among toast crumbs, crushed berries and piles of very crumpled clothing. But they were oblivious to all of that - they were only aware of the feel of each others warm, sticky skin, the taste of the raspberries on each others tongues and the sight of each others souls gazing out from behind their eyes - Michael's soul on a path to recovery guided by the light that shone from the very essence of Nikita...

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

As they lazed in one another's arms Nikita was determined not to let him sink back into a pit of despondency - so she pulled him into her arms making him totally aware that he was all that she desired. She playfully kissed him lightly across the brows and down his nose and then gently on the full, slightly swollen lips. He responded warmly, wrapping his arms around her waist and drawing her closer to him, breathing deeply of her scent mingled with the fruity aroma of raspberries and the musky smell of their love-making.

"Fancy a shower?"

"Now?"

"We're both sticky and could do with cooling down I reckon - and anyway you can help hold me up...."

Damn! she thought the last thing she meant to do was remind him about her leg.

"Your leg..." he paused, his focus now on something distant - "I'm sorry, have I hurt it again? I should have been more careful... I never wanted to hurt you Nikita." He shook his head slowly as he remembered the sound of the shot, the surprise at his continued awareness such as it was and then her screaming as the warm blood splashed onto his hands.

"Humph!" the snort was released from between her lips and out before she could snatch it back ... It was just that she'd heard this so many times before in the context of every definition of hurt imaginable.

Michael's eyes suddenly snapped back into focus - probing Nikita's - the emotions pouring from them like the venom from a lanced wound. .... the bitterness of them stinging his soul and making him retreat.

"Kita - what is it? You resent me don't you? Please don't lie to me - I can see it in your eyes - there is hate there, distrust, anger, and ...disgust ... I disgust you."

He pulled away from her and rolled off the bed. He could no longer look into her eyes so missed the regret, the realisation dawning there.

"No, Michael, come back - it's not like that - please come back-!" She tried to grab hold of him and pull him back but he was out of her reach.

Her pleas did not penetrate the aura of shock that enveloped him, sealing him off again from her love. She had forgotten in the heights of their passion that he was far from healed. She had allowed her feelings regarding the Section operative called Michael to strike out and attack this poor man who was barely returned from the edge of insanity.

He turned and pulled a discarded black T- shirt over his head and then picked up a pair of black tracksuit pants from the back of a chair before dashing blindly down the steps to finish dressing out of her sight. By the time she had hobbled out of the bed and down from the sleeping area she was just in time to see the door to her apartment slam shut.

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

Two days had gone past and Nikita had waited impatiently - she wanted to know what was happening but all her requests for information from Birkoff had been received with the same frustrated response -

"Nikita - I don't know."

Operations and Madeline had devised a profile that they were keeping close to their chests and no one had seen Michael since his return, but the locked gym at nights suggested that his physical skills were being brought back up to standard in preparation for goodness knows what.

Nikita stormed into Section and rushed past Walter barely throwing him a grin as he called out -

"Hey sugar!" in his usual lecherous fashion.

She headed straight for Birkoff's station and was slightly surprised to see Operations standing there as if waiting for her.

"Nikita - I am glad you took the time off as advised to allow your wounds to heal. There will a briefing in half an hour - do not be late." With that he turned on his heel and walked away. Nikita shot a look at Birkoff and demanded-

"What the hell's going on round here?"

"Same as usually goes on in hell Nikita - and Satan doesn't have to keep the minions informed all the time you know."

Birkoff looked away from Nikita's burning glare and gave the impression of being engrossed in the feed out from a query on the system...

"Birkoff?"

"Why don't you ask Michael?"

"Michael?"

Yep - he nodded towards the briefing room as Michael walked in, dressed impeccably in neat stylish black suit, shaven and walking with his old self assured gait - the only thing that spoilt the image was the fact that he was accompanied by two cold ops, as if under guard.

Nikita rushed over to speak to him - but he did not turn and didn't even look in her direction as she called out his name.

"Sugar, " hissed Walter from his armoury.

She walked over towards the older man, not taking her eyes off Michael as he was taken into the briefing room...

"Hey Walter - you know what this is all about?" she whispered conspiratorially.

"I know some stuff sugar - it seems that Michael is to be regarded as a security risk until further notice. He was out of section control for a long time, they don't like that... especially as he spent a lot of hours getting cosy with an enemy with the ability to hypnotise and well..."

"They don't know how much he said about Section while he thought he was with Simone...So why don't they just-" the rest of the sentence stuck in her throat but Walter finished it for her

"Have him cancelled? Well the Karoff babe is still on the loose and maybe they figure that Michael can get to her."

"And then?"

"I don't know sugar, I just don't know..."

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

Nikita walked into the briefing room five minutes before the start of the briefing session - Michael was on his own at the end of the table - his two guards standing behind him. She sat next to him and gingerly touched his arm with her hand - he looked down at her hand and focussed on her long slim fingers as he whispered -

"Please leave me alone Nikita - you don't have to pretend any more." His voice was flat and without emotion.

"But Michael - you don't understand-" Nikita desperately pleaded, keeping her voice soft so she wouldn't be overheard.

"It's alright, Madeline explained to me." She thought she could detect a hint of sadness as he spoke. He took her hand in his and placed it back in her lap - she felt devastated- that was until she felt him gently rub his thumb into the palm of her hand and squeeze her fingers firmly before releasing his grip. He was trying to tell her something, of that she was certain - now if only she could work out what was happening.

She was gazing at Michael's profile, his eyes looking vacantly at the walls as Madeline, Operations, Birkoff and Walter entered the briefing room, and the two guards were dismissed.

Operations pointed the remote control device at the table conjuring up the hologram display...

"The woman that came here as Dr Holly Karoff was an impostor - the real Dr Karoff's body was found in Lake Michigan - it would appear that she had met her untimely death hours after our request went out for her services.

"Section has made use of civilian professionals from time to time in the past. These individuals have all been carefully screened and following their services, some have undergone memory modification, and returned to normal life - others work for us on a retainer basis-"

"Schtoppel," muttered Nikita.

"Precisely - Karoff had worked for Section on this basis - previous knowledge of the traumas suffered by our operatives is a useful diagnostic tool."

"If she worked for you before how come you didn't recognise the difference?" Nikita asked as two images were displayed of the original psychiatrist and her impostor. They were both the same height, build and hair colour, but the features were slightly different- the original's lips were fuller and the nose straighter.

"Her files stated that she had undergone cosmetic surgery after an automobile accident - we later found that Intel to have been planted -." Birkoff provided Nikita with the answer almost apologetically, he should have spotted that, but at the time he thought the woman was wonderful and saw no reason to double check the background data.

"There will be an inquiry into how this woman managed to infiltrate Section - but for now we have a more urgent problem - she is still at large and has knowledge of Section - the extent of which is at present unknown. We need to find her and bring her in. It is also imperative that we find out whom she is working for. Madeline-"

Madeline stood up to take over the briefing from Operations.

"As far as we can determine there must be someone working within Section who leaked the information regarding our need for a psychiatrist. We can assume it was not any one present in this room. It could have been one of the members of the original team on the mission where Michael was injured."

Nikita looked to him to gauge his reaction to the first mention either Madeline or Operations had made of him. There was nothing obvious, but she could detect a tensing of his back muscles - she wondered if he knew what they were planning.

"However, for the purposes of control - the current profile is to be known only to those present. Michael will be used to lure the woman posing as Karoff into the open. It can be assumed that she failed her employers and if still alive will be seeking a means of recovering her status within the organisation. To that end we will leak information regarding Michael's convalescence in a poorly secured location-"

"You're going to use him as bait?" demanded Walter horrified at the thought of them using him so callously.

"Yes - Walter, Nikita will accompany him."

Walter exhaled a sigh of relief, thinking that his sugar would protect Michael and they could take down the psycho between them.

"It would not appear legitimate if there was absolutely no security - Nikita you are under orders to offer moderate resistance, but you will not interfere when Michael is taken."

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

"No damn way!" snarled Nikita - her eyes now blazing with righteous indignation.

"Ni-ki-ta..." Michael warned - his voice barely audible - she swung around to face him- he knew and he was willing to go ahead with this. My God she thought - was this because of what had happened in her apartment...

"Nikita - if you don't think you can carry out the profile we can assign someone else-" the veiled threat in Operations' voice as he spoke chilled Nikita to her marrow and despite her seething anger, she bit her lip.

"We have taken the precaution of implanting a tracker device in Michael's body - when he is taken it will be possible to trace his whereabouts and hopefully Karoff's paymasters."

"What if she doesn't show?" prompted Walter.

"She will - we have placed a number of advertisements in the personal columns of a range of newspapers. " Madeline nodded to Operations who obliged by bringing up on the screen an enlarged image of a "lonely hearts" column.

Simone - please contact me, I know you're not dead, I still love you. Michael x

Bastards thought Nikita - sneaking a sidelong glance at Michael - in time to see him shut his eyes tight as if holding back tears.

There was a PO Box number under the short message.

"Why would she be looking there?" asked Walter obtusely...

"We have reason to believe the woman calling herself Karoff is looking for Michael - that is all you need to know." Madeline stonewalled his line of enquiry.

Nikita couldn't help but think they knew a lot more than they were prepared to share. This meant that they had ulterior motives behind Michael's planned abduction and that worried her most. She would have no choice but to go along - but how could she not protect him? Or were they counting on that too?

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

Nikita slackened her grip on his hands as she met his eyes for the first time in what seemed like ages - no wonder he hadn't let her look at him properly. After his ordeal he was still emotionally unstable and despite whatever Madeline had tried to do in order to suppress them his eyes were brimming over with the feelings that lay so close to the surface. Fear, loss, sadness, and despair - all of these were visible to her- he was terrified of what lay ahead. She had never known him to be afraid of a mission before and that alone was enough to make her scared for him.

"Michael - we don't have to go through with this, we can remove the tracker - escape -"

"No Nikita - we cannot, you could if you wanted - they have no tracker on you and are relying on your feelings for me preventing you from making an attempt to run."

"Not without you Michael - we can remove the tracker can't we?"

"No we cannot - they implanted it in my skull - incorporated into the plate they used to replace the damaged fragments of bone. They will always be able to find me Nikita - I have no escape route any longer. But you have - " He took her face in his hands, cupping it so he could appeal to her.

"No Michael - if I leave you now I could be condemning you to death, there's no back up to pull you out-" her voice had become husky with emotion as she tried hard not to cry - he was offering her freedom, no matter what the cost to himself.

"I know-"

"I can't do it - would you?"

"That's not fair-"

"Answer my question- if our roles were reversed would you leave me?" She was adamant on this point - almost shouting at him.

"Never." His answer was soft - his lips barely parting as the word slipped between them whether he wanted her to know the truth or not.

"That's settled then - I'm with you until you're taken and then I'm coming after you."

He tilted his head down, trying to hide his eyes that were glistening with unshed tears, but Nikita had moved around the table to sit next to him, she placed her arms around his neck and pulled him close, so his head rested on her shoulder. He lifted it enough to turn to face her - tentatively touching her lips with his and then slowly, hesitantly he kissed her. He waited for her acceptance before progressing into a kiss that became deeper and deeper, more and more intense - a kiss that cleared away the misunderstandings - a kiss that cut through all of Madeline's deceptions - leaving no room for misinterpretation of how the two felt about one another.

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

"The code in the PO Box Number worked then?"

"Yes - it was recognised and elicited the response I was expecting."

"And they have the information required?"

"Yes."

"Good - let me know when they make their move. And Madeline - he is ready for this isn't he?"

"Yes - I believe he is."

***********

As Michael and Nikita walked through Heathrow airport towards a taxi rank they stepped out in to torrential rain - the downpour could have rivalled anything they encountered in the south American rainforest......only it was cold as well as wet ....within minutes they were drenched through and sat shivering in the back of a taxi.

"Where to guv?"

"The Sheraton Belgravia."

"Sloane Square ain't that mate?"

"Yes. If you're not sure we can always take another -"

"Hold yer 'orses guv - I know me knowledge as good as the next- you French or somefink?"

"Both - now if you don't mind -"

"All right guv - no probs - I'll 'ave you there wiv Madame in no time at all -"

Michael and Nikita tried to slump back into the seats to escape any more grilling from their driver - but to no avail-

"Tourists are we? - bit out of season fer tourists - you wanna come in the summer, strawberries and cream - "

They allowed the man to witter on to his heart's content, but neither of them heard a word he said - they both stared out of the windows, wiping at the steamed up glass only to see rain trickling down. The scenery was grey , grey suburbs giving way to wet, shiny grey streets the sky continuing to weep as if in sympathy with their hearts.

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

The hotel was hidden away in a quiet square between Belgravia and Sloane Square ... an old fashioned hotel with plush leather sofas in the reception area where little old ladies sipped coffee and read The Times.

Michael checked them in and collected the keys to their room, his head bowed and his voice subdued, not the confident Michael that Nikita had come to know ...she was worried, he seemed to have given in to his fate.

Michael's concerns lay with Nikita - he was furiously thinking of ways of protecting her - he knew that the profile was for him to be captured, he also knew that Nikita was acceptable collateral if things got nasty. He could not allow that to happen ...

Their room was small but neat, the furnishings a rich burgundy colour, the armchairs matching the curtains. Nikita went to the window to look out - she could hear the steady drumming of rain pattering against the panes of glass and outside the hissing sound as cars drove through streets awash with water. As she put her hands on the cold glass, trickles of condensation run down from her fingertips.

Lost in her thoughts she hardly noticed Michael approach her until she felt his strong arms reach around her waist and pull her towards him - nestling back against his warmth she sighed...

"How long do you think we'll have?"

"Why - what were you thinking of doing?" He spoke softly in to her left ear - teasing the lobe with his lips.

Nikita felt her insides melt with desire as he held her in his arms and nuzzled close from behind. She wanted him - now before it was too late, before he let them come for him...

"Mmmm Michael - how soft do you think the mattress is?"

"Shall we find out?"

He slipped one arm down to her knees and bracing her back with the other he swept her literally off her feet and onto the double bed ... he smiled sadly as he looked down on her, golden tresses spread out across the dark red of the counterpane, her grin mischievous and enticing as she licked her lips.

Then as Michael lowered his head towards hers, intent on tasting the grin for himself, there was an urgent knocking on the door - he tensed up immediately -

Nikita froze - her eyes widened in alarm, her head shaking in denial -

"No- not yet - it's too soon- no Michael -"

"Hush - don't move."

He reached into his back pocket and clenching Nikita in one last embrace he pricked her neck with the tranquilliser needle-

She felt the puncture too late and as her ears filled with hissing white noise and her vision tunnelled to darkness she thought she heard him say goodbye as a tear crept from his eye and splashed silently on her forehead - wet and warm.....then nothing.

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

Nikita had curled up on the floor, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, becoming one with the sound of the storm, the sky crying with her as she sobbed so hard she thought she would be physically sick. The lightning hurt her eyes and as she opened them the first thing she saw was the patch of blood on the carpet ...she reached out and touched it- dry - how long ago? She checked her watch - she hadn't reset it since flying in and had no idea how late it was....

She leaned onto the bed and went to grab the phone to check with reception when she realised the bed did not have a solid base - and that the valance around the edge hid the underneath of the bed - perhaps? She lifted the edge and peered under - there it was - her bag - he must have pushed it under the bed before he was taken ...she exhaled a heavy sigh of relief and then brushing the tears from her eyes she reached out for the bag.

She started with the device issued by Section - but no matter which channel she adjusted it to, there was nothing - how had Walter known it would malfunction? Then tossing it onto the bed, she grabbed the other device that Walter had given her and switched it on - there it was - a signal - maybe ten miles away to the north, stationary.

There was no time to lose - she contacted Section first -

"Birkoff - Michael's been taken, but the tracking device I was issued is not picking up a signal- request back-up. Do you have him?"

"Nikita - we wondered what had happened to you - been trying to get through - back-up is not to be deployed yet. "

Although she had been prepared for this she was still angry -

"What do you mean - not being deployed - Michael's in danger and I can't track him!" she shouted.

"Your orders are to stay in position Nikita - you will receive instructions soon. " Operations' voice cut through as he barked his commands at her.

'Like hell I will!' she thought .......

"Fine." She snarled back at him and then switched off her link with Section.

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

"Michael?"

"Simone?" A woman crouched over him, as he lay sprawled out on a double bed - her hair short and dark, trimly cut into a neat bob. She had dark, almond-shaped eyes and her lips were full and richly coloured with dark red lipstick.

"What can you remember?"

"About what?"

"The mission - we were on surveillance outside the Iranian embassy - you complained of being dizzy and before I knew it you had fallen to the ground hitting your head on a lump of concrete. "

Michael rubbed the back of his head as a lump the size of a goose egg throbbed away painfully, his fingers felt dried blood sticking his hair together in stiff clumps.

"Hadn't we better report in? If I have compromised the mission - Operations should be informed -"

"No need - I have instructions for us to stay low until we are contacted."

Michael tried to sit up, but found the room sway about him and his vision blur - drugs he thought in passing.

"What is it Michael - you haven't looked as bad as this since that time two months ago, when that woman broke into our home - "

"I'm sorry - I can't seem to think straight - maybe I should return to Section 1-"

The woman forcefully shoved him back onto the bed and began kissing him hard - holding his head firmly between her hands, allowing no movement -

"I think we should make the most of the time - I'm sure I can help you think clearer if you'll just indulge me-"

Her hands had now moved to his belt which she was stealthily undoing, before sliding one hand across his smooth, flat stomach and down into the curly hair that lay below his navel - she unzipped his fly with her other hand and was about to indulge herself when she felt him tense up-

"NO!" shouted Michael.

He pushed her off and leapt up from the bed to stand looking over her. His breathing was fast and shallow from the minor exertion and as he tried to move towards the woman sprawled on the floor, he saw a transformation in her features from an expression of extreme irritation to one of malicious amusement. She grinned as she watched him sway from side to side and topple headlong back onto the bed.

"OK - so we'll have to adjust the dose. Sweet dreams, lover."

With this she grabbed a handful of Michael's hair to pull his face from the bed and kissed him full on the lips, the hard vicious kiss of a predator.

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

Nikita had taken the device handed to her by Walter and stuffing it inside a shoulder bag, she wandered down to the hotel lobby and asked the woman at the reception desk to call her a taxi -

"Madam- those gentlemen said they were waiting for you." The neat woman at the desk pointed discretely to two men sat on a leather sofa near the door - they were watching the elevator and had not noticed her slip down the stairs.

"Must be some mistake no one knows I'm here -" She tried bluffing, keeping her voice quiet so they wouldn't notice her.

"They said they were friend of your husband's - don't you recognise them?"

Nikita could in fact recognise them - well one of them for certain was an operative from Section 1 - they had been sent in - back up, she sighed with relief and walked over to update them...

"Hi Johnson - you got here fast, can't say I'm not relieved that Ops changed his mind."

"He didn't change his mind Nikita. We've been sent to make sure you stay put - I'm sorry, but we have orders."

"You what? Michael's out there somewhere and I'm going after him!"

"Don't make this unpleasant Nikita - we will take you down if we have to-"

"Please don't make a scene - we can go back to your room and wait." The other operative was a stranger to Nikita but the way he kept his distance suggested that he knew enough about her to beware.

"Sure." Nikita smiled and stuck her hands in her pockets, turning as if to head towards the elevator.

As soon as the door opened she dropped her bag on the floor and stooping to pick it up she whirled it into the face of Johnson its weight catching him unawares he reeled backwards. Nikita allowed the other op to rush her, ducking at the last minute so he ended up on the floor. Side-stepping a counterattack by Johnson, she laid him out with a double-handed chop to the back of the neck and then made an unladylike dash for the revolving door and out onto the rain soaked streets. Not stopping to check for any one else following her she darted between cars on the road, nearly getting run over in the process by looking left instead of right.

Nikita pelted through the streets, blinded by rain and anger not knowing where she was headed - just getting away from Section's bloodhounds. Eventually she ducked into a very exclusive looking shopping arcade - her rain-sodden hair hanging in soggy blonde tangles over her face, she stood there panting for breath. She noticed that people were staring at her so she started to walk purposefully towards a sign for the Underground. Her feet squelched in the trainers that had filled up with water as she had ran through every puddle between here and the hotel. The shoppers were mainly middle-aged women in smart suits and sensible shoes - gazing into shop windows at the latest Burberry jackets and green Wellington boots. Nikita felt very conspicuous and had to remedy that situation fast - she made a quick dash for the steps beneath he London Underground logo.

As Nikita took the steps two at a time it dawned on her that she seemed to be entering another reality, a bustling confusing world of commuters and tourists, wielding umbrellas like lances as they competed for positions near ticket machines and in queues before being swallowed up by noisy, clanking escalators, delivering them like sacrifices to the serpents that writhed their way through the belly of London in narrow tubular tunnels.

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

The woman calling herself Simone removed the needle from the vein in Michael's arm and loosened the tourniquet that she had wrapped around his biceps - she replaced it with her talon- tipped fingers, admiring the strength he had rebuilt.

Once reassured that he was unconscious she had beckoned her hired help to place him in a chair and secure him to it with ropes about his torso and ankles. She had then dismissed them while she went to work on her captive in privacy. Briefly she wondered if her job had been made easier or more difficult by the fact that she found herself irresistibly drawn to this man. His sensuality reached out like tendrils from his body, his aura was like red velvet, deeply enticing. She found herself incredibly turned on by him, and the opportunity to have him at her disposal once more made her almost uncontrollably horny. She remembered the weeks she had shared with him, convincing him that she was his dead wife - the feast of sexual delights on offer had stimulated her appetite in ways no other lover ever had. It was such a shame she wasn't going to be able to keep him...

She sat astride his lap and began to place tiny pieces of surgical tape under his eyebrows, as she concentrated on the fiddly task she bit her lower lip and found herself subconsciously grinding her hips against his pelvic bone, feeling his dormant length firmly pressing against her crotch. She paused in her attentions to his face to slide her hands down to his pants pulling them loose over his hips and down exposing his manhood to her appreciative gaze. She stood up long enough to wriggle out of her bikini briefs and then sat back down, making sure she could feel the warmth of him between her soft, moist folds. She moaned softly in pleasure at the sensation - and wriggled closer to him.

Then she turned her attention back to his face, carefully lifting his eyelids she held them open by securing them with the opposite ends of the pieces of surgical tape, effectively forcing his eyes open. She reluctantly slid off his lap drawing herself along him as she moved ...although his eyes were open he was still out cold...

She turned the lights out in the small room and turned on the projector linked to a small lap top computer - the wall showed a desktop image, but as soon as she opened the file labelled "Auto-suggestion" the wall filled up with an image of her, smiling. She knelt down between Michael's legs, and pressed a hypo spray against his neck that would rouse him within seconds.

"Thank you Madeline..." she murmured as she reached up to fondle her prey.

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

Nikita elbowed her way to the front of queue next to a ticket machine and selected an all zones travel card ... she fed in a ten pound note and waited impatiently for the machine to regurgitate a ticket and her change. The machine spat out the ticket along with a torrent of change that all seemed to be in coins of the smallest denomination possible. She crammed the coins into a pocket on her long coat and then stepped into the throng that was heading for the Piccadilly line northbound.

At the ticket gate the guard stopped her -

"Sorry love - this isn't valid until after the rush hour..."

"Look I'm sorry too mate but I'm in a hurry -"

"So's every one else Miss - now if you could just get out of the way please while I let these other folks through -"

"Come on - you can let me through if you want to-"

"Oh dearie no - it's more than my job's worth...."

He tried to move her out of the way - mistake number one - then as she pushed back he made his second and last mistake, he grabbed her arm and dragged her away from the gate and onto the barrier. Nikita was in no mood to coerce, sweet-talk or otherwise cajole this greasy haired, dandruff- festooned, excuse for a man - she kneed him sharply in the crotch and vaulted over the barrier, hurtling don the escalators to tumultuous applause and cries of -

"You show him love!"

"Well done-!"

"Bravo!"

"Girl power!!!"

Grinning to herself Nikita made fast progress down the left-hand side of the elevator as appreciative commuters moved aside to let her through. Within minutes she could no longer hear the shrill whistles for assistance - and pounding down the close, airless passageways she followed the signs that led to her platform.

A train was about to leave - she jumped onboard just as the doors slid shut...and the carriages rattled their way into the dark forbidding tunnels. There was a seat by the door, she sat down out of breath. Then reaching into the shoulder bag she drew out the device for tracing Michael, hoping it could function this far underground.

"Whassat? Gameboy? " asked a pimply youth opposite her, he was unnaturally skinny, with short, spiky, red hair and glazed eyes, the pupils of which she could barely discern. He had a bottle in his hand wrapped in a plain brown paper bag and stunk of whisky and dope.

"No." She replied, tuning it into the waveband specified by Walter...there it was - still strong, he was right, that tracker was like a damn beacon.

"I asked you a question...what the f--k is it - some game or what?" He had leaned in closer, trying to get a better look, his words were slurred and he sniffed loudly after speaking.

"Mind your own business." Stated Nikita, not really taking in the actions of the teenager as she was frantically trying to translate the co-ordinates of the signal's position to a street map of London she held in her right hand.

"Gimme - I wanna 'ave a look-"

"Get lost."

Before she knew what had happened she felt something sharp hit her side and then she saw the knife blade sliding out and blood oozed out onto the cream coloured coat...

Shocked she stared at the wound and looking up she caught sight of the youth grinning at her, his teeth yellowed and broken -

"Fanks - bet this is worf loads..."

He grabbed the tracking device from her hand and ran down the carriages- he knew the line well and had timed his attack to coincide with the arrival at the next station - the doors slid open and he was gone - into the crowds that poured out onto the platform at Tottenham Court Road.

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

Michael's eyes were red-rimmed and sore, tears flooded down his face in a vain attempt to soothe the pain.

The images flashed up one after another and the drugs in his system made him light headed, he hoped the extra training would pay off, but he was not feeling too good ... As he fazed out once more he thought of Nikita, he hoped she would forgive him for tricking her...

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

Nikita clasped her side trying to staunch the blood flow, she called for help - and eventually a couple walked over tentatively -

"What is it love - you been mugged?"

"I have to get out here..."

"This your stop?"

The man dashed to the door and jammed it from shutting with his umbrella - and then forced it open - it would be easier for him and his girlfriend if this Australian girl took her problems off the train here.

"Thanks-" she said stumbling out through the doors and onto another platform. There was no sign of the red-haired youth, but she still had her A-Z of London and she had narrowed down the area - dammit that was no good - without a pinpoint on his location she had no chance of finding him - not unless she could get support...

"Birkoff?"

"Nikita - where the hell have you been - Johnson reported in that you weren't at the hotel when they got there..."

Nikita smiled - bless him, he could have told them about her giving them the slip and disobeying direct orders, instead he'd given her a chance.

"Birkoff - I've been attacked on the tube - I need medical support and if you don't give me a precise location for Michael you'll need some when I get back."

"Nikita - listen carefully- I cannot help you directly - but I can lift the jamming signal on your tracker, I can disguise it as a glitch in the system-"

She slumped down against he wall in the station - she had left the other, original tracker in the hotel - she would have to return for it and by that time it could be too late for Michael...

"Nikita - are you OK - are you still there?"

"No and yes..."

The bleeding hadn't stopped and she was getting queasy - she would have to get it treated before going on...

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

Karoff licked her lips as she slowly unpeeled the tape strips from Michael's eyelids one by one - allowing his eyes to close - they were watering badly and she almost felt sorry for him ...almost.

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

Nikita staggered towards the escalators leading up to ground level - this time she leaned on the hand rest, which disconcertingly did not seem to keep up with the stairs themselves, causing her to constantly shift her position. As she went to put her ticket through the machine with everyone else - it was rejected not letting her through - damn - she was in no condition to go vaulting barriers this time -

The bustling crowds were momentarily alarmed as the tall blonde woman collapsed in a heap on the floor..

"Drugs" mumbled one old lady, prodding Nikita's motionless body with her umbrella.

A London Transport guard came over to investigate the commotion and seeing the stricken woman noticed the bloodstains and carried her carefully to the office where he called for an ambulance.

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

As Nikita lost consciousness, Michael began to regain it - he felt lousy, he could barely open his eyes, and had to rely on his other senses to tell him where he was and what was happening...

There was a pillow under his head and he was lying down, no longer restrained - at least not physically, but he was pretty certain that even without being tied up he was unlikely to get far in his current state. He could smell an overpowering scent, their research had been good - it had been Simone's favourite perfume. The thought almost made him gag.

"Michael - you're waking up - good."

"I can't see - what happened to my eyes". May as well let her think I'm more incapacitated than I am.

"Don't worry - they'll be fine, the blow to your head must have affected your vision. It will clear up."

Michael could feel the woman touching him - feeling his bare skin - he flinched automatically from her fingers that were trespassing on his chest.

"Michael- what's the matter? - It's only me," she crooned, pressing him against the sheets and sitting across his hips - also unclothed he realised.

He knew that in order to convince her that he was under her spell he would have to respond as if she were Simone. He wasn't sure he could do it - to prostitute his body for Section 1 was one thing, but to betray the feelings he had once had for Simone - that was sacrilege; did they really think he could go ahead with this farce? His sessions in the white room with Madeline had built up his resistance to the drugs and the subliminal conditioning images, but nothing had been done to heal the rift in his soul. He had barely regained a hold on sanity and they had pushed him back to the edge again.

"Michael?"

He was vaguely aware of the woman's naked body lowering itself down on him - he realised he had held his breath and was frozen, unable to respond either positively or with repulsion. Her lips met his and she had her hands in his hair- he wanted nothing more than to shake her off, as if she was a parasite that wanted to feed on him. He reached out and grabbed her upper arms in his strong hands and squeezed - hard.

"Michael? You're hurting me - stop it!"

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

Nikita came round in an ambulance - her coat had been removed and folded on the bench opposite - a kindly ambulance man looked at her with concern-

"You're going to be alright - we'll have that stitched up in no time."

"Can you do it now?"

"Heavens no, love - they'll do that at the hospital-"

"I don't have time to go to hospital. Look I'm a tourist - I have to meet up with some friends otherwise they'll be worried sick - can't you just put a few butterfly stitches on it - bandage it up and I'll promise to get it checked as soon as meet my friends?"

"That's a bit irregular miss - we have procedures to follow you know - "

"Don't tell - it's more than your job's worth-"

"Well - let's have a look at it -." He pulled away her top carefully revealing the pressure bandage that he and his colleague had applied to the wound - the bleeding seemed to have stopped. The blade had after all only been short and much of the impact had been lost as it had pierced the heavy coat she had worn to keep out the cold, wet weather.

"Well it does look a lot better than it did - I could clean it up, give you a shot of antibiotics and fill in the report saying you refused hospital treatment - OK?"

"That would be great!" and with a broad smile she reserved for the times she needed a big favour from gullible strangers - she asked -

"I don't suppose you could drop me off at my hotel could you -? I'm staying at the Sheraton Belgravia - "

"That's a bit posh isn't it miss?" The man chuckled as he applied little butterfly stitches to hold the side of the cut together - the girl looked a bit too bedraggled for an establishment like that - perhaps she had a rich boyfriend, it wouldn't surprise him, she was a bit of a looker after all.

He leaned forward to shout at the driver -

"Change of route Bert - make it the Sheraton Belgravia instead of Charing Cross - Cinderella here is in a hurry!"

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

Nikita gave both the paramedic and Bert the driver a hug and a big kiss on the cheek as they dropped her off outside the hotel - it was still raining - she wondered if Johnson and his sidekick would still be waiting for her.

"Birkoff - tell me where Johnson is."

"Can't tell you - but he is not at the hotel any longer."

"Thanks."

Nikita took the key to her room from her coat pocket - glad that she had transferred the contents of her shoulder bag into her coat on the way down the stairs earlier. Her shoulder bag had become a victim of her struggle with Johnson.

The room was as she had left it - right down to the bloodstain on the carpet that had turned a dark brown. The tracker from Section still lay on the bed where she had thrown it aside. She picked it up and tried again to get it to pick up Michael's signal - she sighed with relief when it worked, Birkoff had been true to his word and had stopped the jamming signal.

Checking with her A-Z, she was also relieved to see that he had not moved - but was that really a good sign? If he were injured or dead - he would not move either.

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

"I said stop that - you're hurting me -"

"Sorry - but you usually like me to be rough with you - I didn't realise you were in a sensitive mood-" he spoke softly, seductively-

"Well - if you feel up to it, who am I to argue?"

He could keep to the profile as long as treated it like any other Valentine op job. This was just a female enemy who had to be made love to in order to get to the next level - just an obstacle to overcome - he'd done it before many times - he could do it again now....

"Come here - closer." He beckoned.

She moved down and found herself flipped onto her back, with Michael's body on top now, crushing her to the mattress, his lips ravaging her face, the force of his passion taking her breath away. His hands wandered down her shoulders, along her sides to her hips, he slid his hands under her buttocks raising her up so her pelvic bone collided with his, she groaned with pleasure. She had found him exciting before when she had taken him from Section with their approval - but this was different, this must be what he was normally like, so commanding, she was thrilled at the sensations he aroused within her. She could feel his cock rubbing against her mound urgently and then his hard arousal shoved its way between her legs and deep inside her - no foreplay, just taking her - roughly and without mercy, almost as if he loathed her...

Any further thoughts were banished from her mind as he began pounding into her, fiercely and brutally, his mouth savagely kissing her, bruising her face with his intensity.

Michael blocked all thoughts from his mind deliberately - they were crowding at the edge of his awareness, he could see Nikita frowning at him and shaking her head in disgust. He could imagine her berating him for his willingness to have sex with anything in a skirt if Section told him to, that he had no business making love to her... she wasn't a mission any more. He could also see Operations and Madeline smiling in approval at how well he'd rehabilitated, what a good Valentine Op he always had been and always would be, a soulless tart whose body could be used and abused by whoever they threw him at.

She felt her body responding to his violent lovemaking - she enjoyed this side to Michael - and arching her back to pull him even deeper into her she came explosively, aggressively. She dragged her sharp claws down his back as the waves of her orgasm pulsated out to flood her entire being with ecstasy.

As the woman beneath him came, Michael collapsed, physically and spiritually, his body flopped down to the side of the Karoff woman, and his soul gave in to the vultures that waited on the sidelines to pick over the remnants of his dignity and self-respect.

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

The colours drained away from his soul and faded into grey as he pulled himself back together, at least a shadow of himself that could masquerade in front of the woman who did not know him.

Nikita knew his blank stare, as did many at Section, but how many knew that it acted like a one-way mirror? That he absorbed every glance shot in his direction with barely a flinch. The mirror shielded the secrets of the occupant behind the veil from the gaze of others, but allowed the prisoner within to look out and garner the guilt and blame to store away in a pit of self-loathing.

The gauze that fell before his eyes was sometimes extremely translucent allowing the feelings of others to pierce through inflicting unseen damage, but at other times the mask was thicker and the hurt merely became entangled like the arrows of the crusaders in the silken undershirts of the Mongol hoards. His armour was invisible - but he was aware of the location of the chinks that permitted harm to be done. Michael sometimes opened his arms to welcome the emotional injuries - in self-flagellation he would expose his most vulnerable areas.

He had loved and been loved rarely but on each occasion it had been of a depth that many would find giddying to peer into. In spite of what he would desire, others had bestowed upon him gifts of pure, unsullied love, given freely and unconditionally as true love always is. These treasures he hoarded away deep inside, they were the source of his strength and the parts of him most vulnerable to attack - betrayal of these precious memories caused their light to dim and their colours to fade until they became elusive glimmers of a distant life -

As he turned over on the bed and closed his eyes, he recalled a bed strewn with the clothes from Nikita's wardrobe - shades of purple , green , orange , blue and red - the colours of flowers and rainbows and purity - he embraced the recollection behind the shutters of his soul...

"Are you OK Michael?" the siren called.

"I'm fine," he sighed with a secret smile and for a change he spoke the truth when he uttered those words.

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

Nikita made her way out of the fire exit of the hotel - just in case. The streets were wet, but the rain had stopped - the puddles reflected the colours of the street lamps and car headlights. She pulled up her collar against the cold wind that had blown up, gusting away the clouds, but sending shivers down her neck, and plunged her hands deep inside her pockets for warmth. She had tried to sponge out the bloodstain from her coat - to no avail; the pale camel colour showed it up badly. The knife wound ached and was a constant reminder not to let her guard down again - she had lost precious time hunting down Michael - two hours lost and she dreaded to think what could have been done to him.

This time - no Underground- she had plenty of cash and was taking a taxi - as long as she could get one - before long a black London taxi cab , its yellow "for hire" sign glowing in the dark emerged from the traffic - she ran to the edge of the road and waved frantically until it came to a skidding halt - displacing the contents of a particularly muddy puddle from the roadside and onto the bottom of Nikita's long coat - the water was oily and grimy-

"SHIT!!" exclaimed Nikita -

"Where to love?" asked the cabby - oblivious to his crime against cashmere....

"Camden - near the tube station please -"

"Right you are love-"

Camden was an area of trendy wine bars, clubs and shiny new pubs, a gloss of acceptability painted on a shabby area - beneath which lurked the darker, decayed heart of London. Broken windows high up in the flats above the shop fronts let pigeons in to roost and down on the pavement by the tube station a young woman barely in her twenties sat in a pool of her own urine - unable to react fast enough to the call of nature, a discarded syringe by her side witness to the reasons why...

Nikita remembered her past and stared a while as a stream of passengers came out of the station and walked past the vacant looking woman as if she was invisible - she wished that she could help - but how?

A couple of teenaged boys strolled past - bare arms, wearing T- shirts in the freezing wind to display their macho hardness. One of them kicked at the addict, and spat on her hair laughing -

"Bring out yer dead!!!"

Nikita saw red and before he knew what was happening she had him shoved up against the wall of the nearest pub, the neck of his T-shirt screwed up in a ball in her fist -

"Oi you - watch where you're walking!"

"Fuck me - wotcha fink you are - bleedin' vigilante ? She's a loser - deserves wot she gets ! Fuckin' scum - pissin' on the pavement - filfy , that's wot it is !"

She saw his gaze shift from her face to a position behind her and out of the corner of her eye Nikita saw his friend grabbing a bottle off the nearby table - about to smash it on a lamp post. She kicked back her long leg sweeping round so her foot connected with his hand- knocking the bottle to the ground to shatter into a hundred shiny wet green slivers. Then she returned to the main focus of her attention and lifting him bodily off the ground she dumped him in a litter bin - jamming him in backside first so his legs jutted out at bizarre angles -

"I can only see one type of trash round here and it's you!"

Before she could react further the manager of the pub came out - accompanied by a bouncer - pointing vigorously at Nikita -

"You're banned - get out and stay out!"

Nikita shrugged, smiled demurely and bottling up her aggression for what she expected would be a far worthier cause she turned her back. The confrontation had served her well, the adrenaline rush had primed her for combat - she would fight for Michael, of that she was certain. Her heart beating fast she headed towards the source of the signal. It was a dilapidated building at the end of the street, four storeys tall, a wine bar at ground level with a club in the basement, with three flats above and a pigeon occupied loft by the sounds of cooing and the splatters of white on the pavement.

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

As she got closer a young black man stepped out of the shadows and thrust a leaflet at her -

"Night club - half price entrance before ten- first two drinks free for the ladies - "

She was about to decline when she saw a group of four dark suited men lounging around outside the building - ostensibly having a drink, but it was not the weather for it - the other tables were deserted. These guys were hired muscle and they were waiting for someone. Her heart sunk momentarily as she realised instinctively that these men had the same target as she did. She just didn't know if their boss had yet to arrive or if he was here and had already got to Michael.

She grabbed the flyer -

"Downstairs is it? "

He nodded bemused at somebody actually taking him up on the offer - most folk just took the flyer and threw it away a second later.

With a grin she skipped lightly down the steps and into the basement - the music was loud and the base beat throbbed through her body - but she wasn't hanging around. She looked out for the sign to the toilets - out the back - good, she headed in that direction and then continued straight on through the rear fire door and out into the back yard - the fire escape ladders reached down from above - that would be her way in .....

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

Not long before Nikita's arrival, Karoff had thrown a pair of jeans and a T-shirt at Michael and told him to get dressed -

"You're going with someone from the London Sub station - he'll get you on transport back to Section 1, I'm staying here- OK"

"If you say so -," Michael braced himself for the next stage, his acquiescence to Karoff had been to make her believe he was weakened still and impressionable. He would have to follow that through if he was to penetrate the head quarters of the men who had come to collect him -

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

Nikita clambered gracefully up the rusty ladders - a death trap in themselves - to the second floor - it was from here that the tracker was emitting its strongest signal.

She flattened herself against the wall and could hear Karoff's voice urging Michael to hurry and get ready - her anger built as she listened - and heard Michael's polite responses - shit the bitch had done it to him again - he was brainwashed like before! Nikita turned and slammed a fist into the brickwork - grazing her knuckles - the pain sharp, just what she needed to get focussed, she had to concentrate on saving him.

There was a buzzing sound as the door bell was rung and Nikita looked in as Karoff ushered in a tall stocky looking man, dark haired, dressed in a black suit with dark shirt and tie and grey trench coat. He was chewing gum...

"Is he ready?"

"Yes - you'll find him quite ready," smirked the small dark haired woman.

That was enough for Nikita - she smashed the glass in the door's window with her gun and put through a hand to quickly wrench open the handle. She dropped to a crouch and rolled into the room taking aim at Karoff -

"Ni-ki-ta-...NO!!" she heard Michael call out, the sound of panic in his voice triggering alarm bells in her mind-

All that Michael could make out was a jumble of blonde hair, and cream coloured coat splattered with red stains and mud spinning across the room. The drugs in his system slowed him down but not enough to stop him diving in front of her as the man drew his gun -

Shots sounded out as weapons were fired and three bodies shuddered as bullets tore through flesh...

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

M o t i o n s ............ s l o w e d .......... d o w n ..........and .... s o u n d s ...........b e c a m e .........m u f f l e d ..... b y .......w h i t e .......n o i s e -

a buzzing that filled his head ..........

Michael felt a sharp searing pain burning through his back and across his shoulder...

He watched in horror as Nikita's body slammed into the chair - her body convulsing - he saw the dark red streaks down the front of her coat -

"N
o
o
o
o
o
o
o!!" He heard echoing across the room and then realised it was his own voice - the red on her coat smudged - or was it the tears in his eyes that blurred the stains.....

Her gun fell from her hand and went
S
          K
                    I
                              T
                                        T
                                                  E
                                                            R
                                                                      I
                                                                                N
                                                                                          G
across the dirty linoleum covered floor -

out

of

reach .....................

He lurched forward to pull her into his arms - desperate to haul her back to him ...he took her into his arms, and tried to give her whatever it took to bring her back to life...

"Please God - let her live, take me instead" he bargained ...

His tears began to fall into the blonde strands that framed her pale face- the tears dripping on to her skin ...

Drip

Drip

Drip

Drip

Drip

Drip ................

She thought she was in the rain again - but London rain was cold and icy - needle like shards of water that stung as they hit you in the face - these drops were warm and as one fell towards her lips she tasted it - it was salty -

Her chest hurt -
it hurt like hell -

the impact had winded her

thank
God
she
had
worn
the
bullet proof vest .........

She sighed and then noticed that the salty drips tasted not only of salt - but had a metallic tang...

She opened her eyes - the vice like grip around her chest had not been solely due to the bullet's impact -

Michael!

He had his arms wrapped tightly about her squeezing hard...

They were his tears
and
his
blood ...

Her eyes flew open wider in concern - then she heard the ominous clicking sound as a gun was primed once more .....

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

The mechanical sound cut through time and caused it to condense about them - falling back into place - sounds flooded back in - Nikita's heavy breathing, Michael's gulp of relief, glass tinkling to the ground as it continued to tumble from the broken window, the solid sounding clunk as Nikita's gun hit the skirting board, and then there was quiet again ...It was then the turn of external sounds to drift back in - occupying the vacuum left behind. The sound of the band in the basement club vibrated through the walls and outside a voice called out -

"Did anyone hear that? The bastards are pissin' about wiv shooters again - stupid bleedin' kids..."

"Someone call the cops! "

Again silence - Nikita braced herself for another shot - prepared herself for the impact that would surely come - sending Michael away for good. What could she do? - what had she done? - this wasn't meant to happen - this was a mess- a stupid bloody mess - why had she interfered ? She'd nearly got him killed ......she had a vest on for God's sake - he didn't - just a T shirt ...

Michael felt her shift in his arms and offered up a prayer of gratitude - she was safe - he could feel her heavy breathing against his chest and everything else shifted with her back into real time. But he had also heard the click behind him...he needed to move and couldn't, the pain in his back had taken hold of him in a paralysing grip...

"Don't move - either of you..." the large man stood closer aiming his gun directly at Michael's' back -

"Oh by the way, well done blondie - you took out the dealer - that means I get to keep the pair of you for free..."

Nikita looked over towards where Karoff had been standing when she had come barrelling into the room ...the woman was on the floor - not moving and a pool of blood was forming under her body..... good thought Nikita - at least I managed to kill that bitch.

"OK - nobody moves a muscle and nobody else 'as to get 'urt - right?"

He took a compact cell phone from his pocket and flipped it open - dextrously tapping a saved number he was probably calling for help - Nikita recalled the men downstairs - if she didn't do something soon - it would be too late.

"Get up here pronto - get Vic to deal with the cops - and slip the DJ a tenner to turn up the volume - heavy on the bass... got it?"

He switched the phone off and catching Nikita furtively looking at the gun she had dropped he caught her eye and smiled - rather like a shark.

"Don't even think of it sweetheart - by the time you reached it, 'is 'ead would be splattered over the floor."

"Can I get up then - it's not very comfortable here on the ground?"

"No need - my boys'll give you an 'and in a minute - you just stay put for now..."

The door opened as he finished speaking -

"Vince - you and Kev tie up the girlie and gag her - don't want any screams - then the bloke, any nonsense from him and you can break her arms."

"What about that one guv - she coming too?"

"No - leave her there - may as well leave something that looks like a victim of a tragic shooting ..."