Michael sat next to her bed and looked at her pale face. When she fell into his arms wounded, he was shocked. At the first moment he couldn't think, he couldn't breathe. He was terrified of the thought that she might die. Die from a shot meant for him. After they ran away from the alley near the restaurant, they went immediately to the headquarters. Michael took Nikita to the small medical unit that was nicknamed MedLab, to give her a medical care. Fortunately, the wound wasn't serious. There was a straight cut in her skin, where the laser beam grazed her, but it wasn't deep. The medical staff bandaged the wound and the doctor assured him that it'd heal quickly. The pale skin around it was slightly red and raw but Michael knew that it would heal soon, leaving only a faint scar.

Now, after Michael was no longer afraid for her life, a million questions sprung to his mind. Why was she there? Did she just happen to be in the wrong place in the wrong time, or did she know they'll be there? And why did she jump in front of him and took the shot meant for him? Michael shook his head and sighed silently. He would ask her questions when she woke up. He raised his hand tentatively and stroked her cheek softly. Her skin was cool to his touch, so smooth and silky. His hand lingered on her soft skin, marveling in the fine texture. He then removed his hand and stepped out of the room.

*****

Nikita opened her eyes slowly and squinted to the bright light. She blinked several times slowly and looked around her. She was lying on a bed in a white room. Nikita remembered clearly what happened. The shooting in the alley, the policeman aiming his gun towards Michael, the feel of his arms and a look of horror on his face and then darkness. What was she thinking when she did this?

She felt a weird sensation in her side. She looked at herself and saw that there was a bandage wrapped around her midsection. She touched it carefully and a wave of pain engulfed her. She moaned softly in pain and tugged the bandage a little sideways, revealing the wound. It didn't look too bad. It stopped bleeding and her skin was slightly red and tender.

She wondered where she was. Since Michael was the last thing she saw before fainting, she was pretty sure she was in the rebels' headquarters.

Suddenly she heard a metal clink and the door opened. Nikita turned her head quickly, expecting to see Michael. But instead of the green eyed dark angel she saw a young woman dressed in white. The woman smiled at her briefly and approached, turning to check her wound.

"Where am I?" Nikita asked.

"Don't you know where you are?" the woman asked calmly.

Nikita didn't answer. She had a pretty good idea where she was. "What are you going to do with me?" she asked quietly.

"This is not my decision," the woman answered and left, the mental click of the closing door echoing in the silence.

Nikita sighed and closed her eyes. She heard the door open again. "Back so soo-," she started, opening her eyes. She quieted as she saw him. Michael. He was dressed head to tow in black and his hair was disheveled. He looked gorgeous. They stared at each other in silence.

"Michael." she finally said, breaking the silence. He nodded. The expression on his face was unreadable, carefully blank. But Nikita thought she could recognize something below the surface, some emotion, what was it?

"You'll be treated here until you can take care of yourself and then you'll be taken to your home," he said stonily. Nikita blinked in surprise. His voice was so cold and icy. Was he mad at her? She said nothing, though.

"I need to ask you a couple of questions," he continued, "What were you doing in the alley?"

"I was just walking out of the restaurant," Nikita answered, "I saw the movement in the alley and came to see what it was."

Michael's emerald green eyes narrowed in suspicion and he stared at her. Nikita's eyes blazed with anger, "You don't believe me?"

He turned his head, ignoring her question. "Did anyone see you walking to the alley? Were you with someone in the restaurant?"

"Yes, I was with someone in the restaurant, not that it's any of your business, and no, I don't think anyone saw me walking to the alley." She answered, still enraged a little.

He didn't say anything, from some reason, something inside him clutched when she said she was with someone in the restaurant. He found himself ridiculously annoyed and jealous. He was still shocked from the fact that she was shot because of him, for him. He said nothing for a few more moments and then asked quietly, "Why did you do this?"

Nikita said nothing. How could she answer to that when even she did not know the answer? She turned her head and stared at the ceiling. "I don't know," She said finally.

"Don't ever do that again." His icy voice surprised her. She averted her eyes to look at him. The look in his eyes overwhelmed her for a moment. She saw anger, fear, sorrow and something more. Passion. Yes, there was definitely passion, hunger in those emerald eyes. Nikita felt her pulse quicken just from the look he gave her. she swallowed hard, hoping that he wasn't aware to the effect he had on her.

"That's it, Michael?" she asked sarcastically, "that's all you have to say?"

He didn't answer. He turned his broad back to her, opening the door.

"Get some rest," he said quietly, his voice hoarse, starting to close the door.

"Michael, wait," her soft voice stopped him. He froze and turned to look at her.

"Can you answer me one question?" she asked.

I'll do anything for you. "If I can," he answered, licking his suddenly dry lips. She was so beautiful lying there. Her hair all tousled in a sweet disarray, her lips pink and lush, oh so beautiful.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked.

"Doing what?"

"All this, everything," she motioned with her hands, "why do you...rebel?"

He moved to stand next to her bed, clasping his hands in front of him. "Have you noticed how much the world had changed in the last several years?" he inquired softly.

"Changed?"

"Yes, changed."

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean," she replied.

"The whole world is one big computer," he explained quietly, "Every system, every procedure, is now done by computers."

"But that's progress," Nikita interrupted, "You can't stop it."

"Progress, yes. But in what price?"

"Price? What is wrong with the current system?"

"Do you know how many people lost their jobs since the world started to computerize?" Michael unclasped his hands and started to pace around the room, "About 75 percent of the workers in any big company were discarded. They were simply weren't needed anymore."

Nikita didn't say anything. She had no idea.

"The computers took their place," he continued, "Soon there will be no people needed to do everyday things. People will try building computers that will think for them," he paused for a second, "Isn't it ironic? The humanity is destroying herself, making herself useless. And in addition, the environmental damage that takes effect as a result of it is immense and sometimes irreparable." He continued, determinism and passion in his eyes as he spoke, "what I resent the most is the new laws. The death penalty is legal now in every one of the fifty states, more than that- it's frequently used, against people who resist what you call 'progress'. After President Barclay erased part of the constitution in 2083, people are practically forced to join the 'progress' or they might die." He looked at her, fire blazing in his eyes, "And the new laws were proposed by Technocom's board of directors about three years ago. That and a generous 'donation' to President Barclay ensured Technocom's worldwide monopoly."

Nikita was beginning to feel uncomfortable but was still silent. She was beginning to see things from a whole different view now. "And why do you steal food?" she asked quietly.

"We need to eat."

Something about his answer saddened her. It seems that she forgot that they were only human beings. And they needed food, water and shelter to survive.

Michael took a deep breath and moved towards the door. "I hoped I answered your question," he said softly and the door clinked shut behind him.

"Yes, you did," Nikita whispered.

*****

Nikita shook her head and opened her eyes. She was in her apartment again. She looked at the clock and groaned. It was morning already. Which meant that she had been in the rebels' headquarters all night.

She jumped out of her bed and stood in front of the mirror. She lifted the edge of her shirt and examined the wound. It healed nicely, and quickly. She had a red ugly scar now, but at least it didn't bleed anymore. She sat on the bed with a sigh. Luckily, it was the weekend, so she didn't have to go to the office. Her thoughts drifted to Michael again. Just the thought of him made that strange sensation spread in her body again.

She leaned back and closed her eyes, trying to imagine his face. His high forehead, his beautiful luminous eyes, sea green colored and expressive, his noble nose, coral-pink sensual mouth, the slightly cleft chin. She had to admit to herself, he was gorgeous, too beautiful for his own good. And the way he looked at her made delightful shivers course through her body. She saw passion, hunger in his eyes, and she knew that it reflected in her own eyes.

Nikita rolled to the side and groaned in sudden pain. Something hard pressed to her side and hurt her healing wound. She moved to a sitting position and looked for the object that caused the pain. There was nothing on the bed. She frowned, confused and looked around her. Where is it? Her coat pocket! She shoved her hand inside and her fingers wrapped around a small, hard object. She took it out of her pocket and stared at it stunned. It was the tracking device that Walter gave her last night. She had it with her all night, which meant... she could find out the location of the rebels' headquarters!

Nikita rushed to her computer and logged on. It only took a few seconds to connect her computer at work. She took the little sphere and moved the magnetic scanner over it. The scanner beeped and a map appeared on the computer screen. With shaky fingers, Nikita typed quickly and a red line appeared on the map, sketching her trail from last night.

The red line moved slowly from the 3D cube that marked the Technocom building and moved along the main road, on the way to Pizza Hut. It stopped at the restaurant and the little red dot blinked quickly. Nikita hit a key and the program jumped to when she came out of the restaurant. After a few more seconds, the line moved towards the alley.

Nikita's palms felt hot and sweaty and she looked at the screen nervously. Here, the line started to move quickly. Nikita looked at the trail it created until the line stopped in a point, flickering rapidly. It was a sign of lack of movement for a long while. Nikita clicked a few keys, her hands shaking, and the program stopped. The map turned more detailed. After a few second she had the exact location. The rebels' headquarters was located in an abandoned underground factory in the west of the city.

Nikita leaned back in her chair and removed her goggles, her mind troubled. What to do now? The most rational step was, of course, going to the police, but it was the last thing she wanted to do. She didn't what him captured and probably executed.

Nikita got up slowly from her chair and collapsed on her livingroom couch. She took her remote and flipped through the different channels uninterestedly. She stopped at the CNN channel of the local news and her eyes widened as she saw what the report was about. Bradley Tacker's serious face appeared on the screen as he started the report.

"Yesterday night, a food supply truck was attacked and robbed," he began, "according to the information we received, the attackers were the notorious rebels."

Nikita leaned forward, her eyes glued to the large screen. Tacker continued, "The purpose of the attack was robbing the food supply in the truck. The rebels shot two policemen during the attack. One of them is suffering a severe cut and possible infection in his..."

Nikita stopped listening and froze in her seat. Policemen? Shot by the rebels? It wasn't possible. She remembered last night very clearly. The rebels had no guns! The only shooters were the policemen themselves. She felt sick. It was all lies. She wondered now how much of the information about the rebels that she saw on TV was correct. Probably very little. The reports and stories about them only served to make them hated and feared from in the public. The truth is, she thought, that they were only human beings, trying to survive and have their way in a world that wouldn't listen to them, and worse- spread vicious lies about them. She felt like a curtain was pulled over her eyes for years and it was now removed, allowing her to see everything more clearly.

She had made her decision. She got up from her couch, not bothering to turn off the TV, and strode towards her computer. Nikita slipped the goggles on and loaded the tracking program again. She printed the map with a circle that marked the location of the headquarters and then, slowly and thoroughly, she erased all the info from the program. She will not let anyone find out this location. Ever.

*****

The doors opened and Nikita stepped out of the elevator.

"Good Morning, Walter," she smiled affectionately to the old man.

"Hi, Sugar," he smiled back, removing the electronic glasses from his eyes.

"So, what are you doing?" she asked.

"Working on a new toy," he grinned broadly, "I'll let you see it when it's done. Speaking of toys, what about the one I gave you last night?"

She took the small device out of her pocket and handed it to him, "There it is."

"So, did you check it?" he asked curiously.

Nikita felt her heart skip a bit, "Uh, yeah. It worked very well."

"Really," Walter smiled with pride. He took his scanner and moved it over the device, "Let's see what it received."

"Oh, don't bother to check," Nikita replied quickly, "I erased it."

"Why did you do that?"

"No reason," she shrugged innocently, "it wasn't very interesting. It showed a trail from the office, to Pizza Hut and back to my home, nothing special."

"Oh, do you usually have *more* interesting nights?" he leered at her.

Nikita laughed, "Guess not." She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and left. "Bye, Walter."

"Bye Sugar."

A few moment later, Nikita strode into her office at the 12th floor of the large building.

"Hey, Nikita." Simon's voice startled her.

"Hey Simon, what's up?"

"Where were you last night? I tried to call you about a half an hour after I left the restaurant."

Nikita's mouth went dry, "I was, umm, I just drove around for a while. I didn't feel like going to sleep. Why did you try to call me?" she changed the subject quickly.

"I wanted to consult you regarding a new idea that I had."

"Really?" Nikita took a chair and sat next to him, "What idea."

"Well, I'm happy to inform you that I think I have a solution to out security problem," he said proudly.

"You made a new security system?" Nikita asked, surprise, "So fast?"

"No, no, it's not a new system," Simon explained, still grinning, "it's something different entirely."

Nikita leaned forward, "Tell me."

"Well," Simon started, "I wrote a little program that I can insert into the security system. It will make it look like there's a back door, a way to hack into the system without the rest of the codes," he typed something in his computer and continued, "but actually, it will be a trap, a Trojan Horse."

"So, if the rebels try to use this bogus back door..." Nikita started.

"Not only that their system will be infected with a computer virus, but the program will also transmit us their location." Simon finished.

Nikita said nothing for a few seconds, she only stared into the air.

"Nikita? What do you think about my new plan?" Simon interrupted her thoughts.

"Good work, Simon," she murmured, smiling feebly, "how long will it take you to insert this program into the system."

"A few hours, at most," he replied, already engrossed in his new task, "If I work really hard, I'll probably finish it by ten o'clock tonight."

"Ok, Simon, do what you can," Nikita murmured and patted his shoulder.

Nikita walked away from the table, a troubled look on her face. What now? If Simon inserts the bogus back door into the security system, and no doubt- he will, the rebels' location will be found, the members will be thrown to jail, and some of them will probably be executed. The government punished criminals that threatened international technological progress very severely.

What could she do to stop it. She could try to sabotage Simon's Trojan Horse program, but it is probably not a good idea. If she's detected, she will be asked some serious questions that she won't be able to answer without exposing herself and her connection to the rebels.

She had only one more possibility. She'll have to warn them, tell them about the program before they have a chance to try to hack into the system. She'll have to go there, to their headquarters. That was the only way she could get to them.

*****

Nikita took a deep breath and surveyed her image in the mirror. She was wearing black jeans, black T-shirt, black coat and black sneakers. I look like a spy, she thought. She glanced at her watch. The hour was nine a.m. She was busy memorizing the map to the headquarters about an hour ago and she was now ready to go. Nikita ran a nervous hand through her pony-tailed hair and headed towards the door.

She stepped out of her building into the night. It was a cold night, typical for October. The cold wind made her shiver slightly, but thankfully there was no rain. She drove her car for a few miles and then parked it and went out. She decided to walk rather than take her car, the place wasn't that far anyway and she didn't want her car to be found near the abandoned factory that was the rebels' hiding place. Nikita pulled the ends of the coat tighter around herself and kept walking. The street was almost empty, she saw only two or three people passing by. The only movements were the movements of the cars on the road.

Nikita arrived the outskirts of the city and walked quickly in the deserted area. It was pretty scary. There was no one around and it was deafeningly quiet. After a few more minutes she arrived to the abandoned factory. She felt her heart hammering while she stepped into a small old elevator and pressed the button with shaky fingers. The elevator moved silently, stopped suddenly and the doors opened. Nikita saw a poorly-lit corridor in front of her. She took several deep breaths and walked along the silent corridor.

Suddenly, she felt a cold gun barrel press into the back of her neck. "Turn around, slowly." Said a voice coldly. Nikita swallowed hard and turned around. She found herself staring into the serious face of a young man. Probably a guard.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" he asked, still pointing the gun towards her.

"Can you at least move this thing out of my face while we're talking?" she snapped, suddenly feeling brave.

He kept pointing the gun at her, "Answer my question," he replied harshly.

Nikita sighed silently and explained, "You have a severe security problem. Your entire computer network might be infected by a deadly virus within minutes."

"Why should I believe you?" the man asked unbelievingly, although he lowered his gun a little.

"You have nothing to lose," she said firmly, "Let me talk to your computer expert and you'll see I'm telling the truth."

The young guard still had a skeptical look on his face, but he stepped back and talked into a small device that was installed on the wall. "Rene," he spoke into the device, "I have a little problem here. There's a woman here, and she claims that we have a problem with our security system."

Nikita couldn't here Rene's answer to the man, but the man picked up an arm-sized scanner and moved it over her body. He seemed satisfied when the device hadn't beeped, stepped aside and motioned her to go inside. He pressed a hidden button on the wall and a door slid open, revealing a dark hallway. Nikita stepped inside and the door snapped shut. She started walking along the hallway and then found herself in a brightly-lit room full of computers. A tall man with a thin blond hair approached her. She recognized his face from the police records. Rene Dian.

"Ahhh, Miss Ross," he said, with a little ironic smile, his voice heavily accented, "What are you doing here?"

"I have an information that may save your entire computer network. And the secrecy of your hiding place." Nikita answered, her head voice steady despite her nervousness.

"And why are you interested in helping us?" he asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Do you want to interrogate me or listen to what I have to say before it's too late?" she snapped again. To her surprise Rene gave her a small smile and said, "Of course, you're right. Follow me." He led her towards a young man that sat in front of a computer terminal.

"I assume that the information you have is related to the security system of Technocom," Rene said, "since you *are* the head of the most important section."

"Yes." She answered.

"Well, then," he said, motioning towards the young man in front of the computer, "Please, do share." He turned to the young man, "Birkoff, listen to what the lady has to say."

Birkoff turned in his chair and gave her a questioning look.

Nikita swallowed hard and told him everything. About the bogus backdoor, the Trojan Horse program, the virus. After she finished the young man looked at her in a surprised expression. "I'll check your story," he stated.

Nikita looked around nervously. She hadn't seen Michael anywhere.

"Miss Ross?" Rene Dian's voice alarmed her and her eyes snapped to meet his. "Are you... finished here?" he asked.

"Not quite," she replied.

"Not quite?" the man arched his eyebrows. His mouth curled into a small cynical smile, "not that we would've let you go so easily now that we know that you revealed our location. Please, tell me, Miss Ross," he continued, "what else do you have to do here?"

"I want to see Michael," Nikita stated firmly and unblinkingly.

Rene Dian's brows arched again in surprise and a hint of amusement. "I'm afraid that Michel is a little preoccupied," he said.

Nikita's mouth went dry. She noticed that he pronounced his name 'Michel' rather than 'Michael'. It made his name sound even more sensual and alluring. She wondered what his last name was. Something just as sexy? That made his name even more perfect?

"I helped you to keep your security system secured," she stated unflinchingly, "the least you can do to thank me is to let me see him." She was about to say 'to give me what I want', but decided not to. It didn't sound good

"Very well," Dian replied, "follow me."

He led her through a maze of corridors until they reached a long dark corridor with a single door in the end of it.

"Michel's quarters," Rene explained in a low voice. He then glanced at her again and left her standing there alone.

Rene had already noticed the young woman's interest in his comrade when she was brought to the headquarters for the first time. Her eyes were always on him, studying his expressions, scrutinizing him with her eyes when she thought no one was looking. Rene was not surprised. Michel had always attracted women. Wherever he went, women fell to his feet constantly to a mere look or a smile from him.

But that wasn't everything. He felt a reaction in Michel's side as well this time. He listened while Michel interrogated Nikita and he noticed his troubled expression when he left her room, after he returned her there from the questioning. Yes, there was obviously something between the two of them. A bond, something that pulled them towards each other without restraints, logical thought or explanations.

That was the only reason he let Nikita go and see Michel.

Nikita stood in front of the closed door, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. She wanted more than anything to open the door and see him, but she was also scared. From what? She didn't know. She couldn't explain the feeling that materialized inside of her. She simply had a feeling that if and when she opened the door, something in her will change forever. She didn't even have a logical explanation why she asked to see him. She did what she came there to do, warn them about the security problem, so why did she feel a need to strong to see him?

What would it be like? She thought, what will he be doing as she opened the door? Will he be sitting in front of his computer, making another plan to bring down Technocom and 'save the world'? Or will he be lying in his bed, trying to sleep? The thought of finding him in his bed made shivers of desire go through her body. Stop stalling, she scolded herself. Nikita looked at the door. It was an old-fashioned one. It did not have a voice-operating mechanism, it had to be opened manually, by hand. Nikita tried to knock a few times, very lightly, but there was no answer. She hesitated for a moment and then her hand curled around the handle and pressed. The door opened.

*****

Even though Nikita had tried to imagine how Michael would look when she opened the door, nothing prepared her to the sight she saw as she entered the room.

The soft music that invaded her ears, and the soft light that was emitted by a few candles that were scattered around the room, made everything seem unreal, dreamlike to her.

Michael was standing with his back to her. In spite of the cold in the room, he was wearing black pants and nothing else. His feet were bare and her breath caught in her throat as she saw the strong muscles in his back. His body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and he was moving in slow motions, his muscles flexing. Nikita watched, mesmerized by his fluent movements. His body twisted slowly in a sequence of synchronized movements. He seemed to her as a graceful dancer, his motions powerful and masculine yet sensual and tempting. Oh, so tempting.

Suddenly, his body twisted around in one quick movement, now facing her. In a blink of an eye, his body was poised in a battle stance. His eyes that were closed until now opened slowly, revealing green eyes burning with inner fire. Nikita gulped. If he looked gorgeous from the back, his front was even better. His muscled chest glistened in the soft light and the muscles rippled slightly. The black pants, that were a little more snug that she first thought, were molded perfectly to his well-muscled legs and hips. Nikita felt her face flush as she examined the way the pants hugged his lower body. Oh, my, he's gorgeous, she thought breathlessly. She felt a heat wave engulf her. She kicked off her sneakers silently and stood barefoot on the floor.

She lifted her eyes to look at his face. His eyes had a slightly darker shade of green, and they looked like burning opals. His full lips, coral-pink and so tempting, were parted slightly. His hair was a little disheveled, the ends damp and curling. Nikita thought he was the most beautiful, sexy, tempting, dangerous man she had ever seen. She gazed into his eyes and was at a loss of words.

"The music is beautiful," she finally said, her voice sounded to her a lot huskier than usual, "what is the name of that piece?"

"Love story," he whispered. His voice husky, the French accent pronounced heavily. His body was still poised at a battle stance, but was more relaxed. The tensed muscles softened slightly.

His soft voice made her body shiver and forget everything around her, everything except for him. She closed her eyes, listening to the beautiful sound of the pianos and violins. The music was incredibly romantic and sweet, with a touch of sorrow in the captivating rhythm. It was more beautiful than everything she had ever heard was.

Nikita opened her eyes and found herself standing face to face with him. He was closer now, only several feet away. He continued moving silently towards her until his face was incredibly close to hers, only a breath away.

"Why are you here, Ni-ki-ta?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. His closeness caused his heady scent to enter her nostrils and she inhaled slowly. He smelled like soap and musk and his unique scent that made her heart pound. She felt weak at the knees and something inside her quivered forcefully. She suddenly felt an uncontrollable urge to touch him.

Nikita lifted her hand slowly and touched his brow. His eyes closed as she stroked his brows with her fingertips, tracing their contour. A soft moan escaped his lips and it only urged her to continue, not that she had the strength nor will to stop now.

Her hand descended slowly down his face. She touched his cheek and felt the velvety texture of his skin that was covered in rough stubble. Her hand moved further and reached his mouth. His lips were so soft, like satin. Yet they were perfectly sculpted and so manly.

His eyes opened suddenly and his lips parted, pressing soft kiss to her wandering fingers. Nikita gasped, the light touch moving through her like an electric current. It triggered something in her. A powerful, undeniable, all-consuming lust that ignited a fire in her body, creating a delicious ache between her legs.

Nikita lifted her other hand and placed both of her hands on his impossibly broad shoulders. She slid her palms slowly down his body, her eyes following. Her suddenly trembling hands skimmed hard muscles that quivered in response to her touch. Her fingers teased his flat male nipples, feeling them harden underneath her fingers. One of her hands glided slowly to his taut abdomen. Just as her hands touched the waistband of his pants, he inhaled sharply and his hands closed around her wrists abruptly, stilling them. He pulled her roughly towards him and she collided with his hard body. She felt him so close and it was so wonderful. Her head was floating with the sensation of it.

She felt the hard muscles of his chest pressed snugly to her soft breasts, their aching tips rubbing his chest, craving his touch. His pelvis was tightly pressed to hers, and she felt his hardness pressing against her, making her head dizzy. His muscled leg was wedged between both of hers, making the throbbing between her legs intensify unbearably.

In a blink of an eye, his mouth was on hers. His tongue parted her pliant lips and invaded her mouth. Nikita moaned into his mouth, her hands struggling to free themselves from his grasp. But he wouldn't free them. His mouth ravished hers, his tongue thrusting again and again into her mouth, in a motion that held promises and incredible pleasure. He suddenly released her hands and tore his mouth away from hers. Nikita was panting heavily, her eyes still closed. Their bodies were still pressed tightly together and her body was throbbing in sensation, aroused beyond all thought.

His eyes burned into hers. His hands touched her hair gently and then released the rubber band that kept her hair in a ponytail. The blond hair spilled on her shoulders like a silken waterfall. A heartbeat later, his hands slid into her coat and it slipped off of her shoulders, sliding to the floor. Her shirt was next. His warm hands slid inside it and slowly lifted the garment over her head and dropped it on the wooden floor. His eyes lowered and he looked at her lace-covered breasts, his eyes half-lidded with desire. He placed his hands on the small of her back and pulled her to him. as his lips touched the soft skin of her neck, Nikita felt her knees buckle and she leaned her shivering body against his, her head coming to rest on his strong shoulder. His lush lips favored the delicate skin of her neck with butterfly kisses and then he bit her gently. "Michael," a moan escaped her lips at the feel of his teeth, and her hands curled in his wavy hair, pulling his head closer to her. He bit her again, suckling hard, and she whimpered again, flooded in waves of an intense desire.

His mouth inched downward, towards her chest. His mouth lingered above the upward curve of her breasts and then closed around a pebble-hard nipple through the lacy material of her bra. His mouth sucked greedily and his teeth grazed it until Nikita screamed from the strong pressure that caused a painful wave of pleasure to engulf her body. His hands, which were pressed tightly to the small of her back, loosened their grip and the clasp of her bra opened. The black lace bra slipped off of her shoulders and revealed her soft breasts and hard tips. He bent his head again quickly and took her other nipple in his mouth. He gave it the same ministration he had given its twin that finally caused Nikita to cry out harshly and grind her need against his leg.

Her cries and whimpers drove him wild with anticipation and uncontrollable passion and he locked his hands under her buttocks and carried her to his bed. Her long legs wrapped instantly around his waist, bringing his need unbearably tight to hers. Michael groaned low in his throat, feeling something snap inside of him. They collapsed on the bed with Michael on top. His body pressed Nikita's into the soft mattress. Nikita felt like she was sinking, drowning in pleasure and sensation. Michael pinned her down to the mattress and his mouth lowered, covering her neck and chest with small, nibbling kisses. Then his tongue darted out and he licked her stomach sensually.

Nikita squirmed underneath him, longing to touch his heated skin, but he had her hands pinned down above her head and she couldn't, and maybe didn't want to, release them. He gave her a sensual lick again and his mouth moved further down. His hands released hers and he lifted his head, the fire burning in his eyes warning her to leave them above her head on the pillow. Nikita consented with an almost unobserved nod of her head. His hands grasped the edge of her pants and he pulled them down slowly, his thumbs grazing her thighs lightly. Her pants now discarded, Nikita was lying in front of him clad only in a pair of lacy panties. Michael hooked his thumbs in her panties and yanked them down abruptly. Nikita sucked in a breath, writhing with anticipation to his next move. His green eyes, that could burn her with a mere look, looked into her eyes and then his head lowered and he spread hot, wet kisses on the inside of her thighs. Nikita threw her head from side to side and whimpered, feeling the burning ache increase deeply.

It seemed that he sensed her mute request because his mouth moved a little to the right and his tongue teased her sensitive bud ever so delicately. "Mi-chael," Nikita groaned harshly, feeling her legs begin to tremble. He raised his head a little, his eyes clouded with passion and whispered, "Ni-ki-ta, tu est tres douce." She had no time to wonder about the meaning of his words that were uttered in his native tongue because his head lowered again quickly, his tongue found her entrance and slipped inside.

Nikita screamed, arching her back. She could no longer hold her hands on the mattress and they tangled in his hair, holding him to his task. His thumbs rubbed her hard bud continuously while his tongue ravished her core. His tongue hit a particularly sensitive spot and Nikita saw dark spots in front of her eyes, as spasms engulfed her body. She cried out harshly and her hands curled painfully in his hair. Michael groaned as he felt the vibrations begin in her body. He felt himself harden even further and quickened his ministrations to her.

"Oh, Michael," Nikita cried out as the first wave of an intense climax washed over her. With a groan Michael lifted his head from between her thighs and moved away from her completely, coming to stand next to the bed. He tore his pants off of his body, revealing a perfect, completely nude, masculine body to Nikita's fervent gaze. Her eyes roamed over his lean body and she almost forgot to breathe as his erected member came into her view. She moaned softly and reached her hands to him. He placed his hand in hers and moved over her, his body covering hers completely, his hands pinning hers to the mattress. Nikita felt his arousal, hard and throbbing, pressing fervently against her belly.

"Michael, yes, please," she moaned as she released her hands from his grasp, placing them on his muscled back, and wrapped her legs tightly around his waist. He lingered for one more second, an eternal moment in time, and then plunged into her, filling her so sweetly and completely. "Oh," was all Nikita managed to utter before he plunged again and all thoughts flew out of her head.

His strokes were savage, wild, burning with mounting desire. Nikita whimpered and her legs tightened around him, meeting him thrust for thrust, urging him to go deeper. But still, Michael held back, denying her the ultimate release.

"Mi-chael," she choked out, barely able to breathe, "Michael, please," she begged hoarsely. His mouth descended upon hers and they kissed deeply, savagely, with a bruising intensity, expressing their mutual desire. Nikita's hands slid to his buttocks, gripping them firmly, and the strength of his strokes increased, becoming almost painful in intensity, as he became impossibly harder and larger inside of her. She didn't care, it was such a sweet pain.

He ripped his mouth away from hers and she gasped for air, staring into his beautiful eyes. His mouth descended suddenly and closed around her nipple. His tongue teased it with a feather-light caresses for a few seconds and then suckled hungrily. Nikita felt his teeth tugging forcefully and cried out as a wave of pure erotic pain engulfed her body. Her feral cries aroused him even further and his arousal stretched inside her to the point he was afraid he would damage her.

Nikita's eyes flew open and her nails dug into Michael's buttocks until he gasped in pain. He raised his eyes to meet her lust-filled ones. "Michael," she begged breathlessly, "Now!"

His mouth covered hers again and his tongue invaded her mouth savagely as his strokes fastened and deepened, the tension between their bodies increasing, until spasms took over their joined bodies and they cried out simultaneously and tumbled over the edge in a violent climax. Michael continued his strokes, impossibly hard and deep, penetrating her very soul, and Nikita felt a wave after wave of blissful climax engulf her body. With a strangled cry, Michael plunged one more time and collapsed on top of her, their bodies still trembling hard from the aftereffects of their violent climax. Nikita's hands roamed over Michael's sweat-soaked back, caressing him tenderly. "Michael," she whispered, "I love you."

Michael froze and his body tensed and went rigid. He raised his head from where it rested upon her breasts and looked into her eyes. He felt tears sting his eyes. Why would she love him? What's there to love? His throat was closed, he couldn't talk. Instead he rolled them over so Nikita was lying on top, her head resting on his chest. He wrapped the blankets tightly around their entwined bodies. "Shh," he whispered, his hand caressing her hair ever so gently, "Sleep, ma cher, sleep."

*****

Morning came. The hour was six AM. Most of the candles extinguished already, the music ended hours ago and the only sound in the small room was the soft breathing of the two lovers, who lay entwined on the soft bed.

Michael opened his eyes slowly. Nikita was sprawled atop him, her fair hair spanned on her back and his chest. The golden tresses tickled his chest and her sweet scent filled his nostrils. He listened to her quiet breathing and felt her heart beating steadily against his chest. He tightened his arms around her and breathed deeply. He was in heaven.

Already since the first moment he laid eyes on her he felt the connection between them, that unexplained bond, he knew that it was there even though he couldn't explain it. In the moment he touched her for the first time, in the party, he felt electric wave course through his veins. He tried to deny it at first, convince himself it was merely a physical reaction to a beautiful woman. But when he interrogated her and she, hazy from the serum they injected her with, kissed him on the lips, he felt like a thunderbolt had struck him. He was unable to breathe or to make out a coherent thought. all he could think of at that moment was that he wanted to push her to the floor, peel off her clothes one by one and make love to her until she begged him for release.

Since that day he constantly tried to imagine how her body would feel like under him, how it would feel to have her long, silky legs wrapped around his back, what would be the taste of her skin as she writhed beneath him in ecstasy. His dreams were filled with most disturbing images and fantasies since then.

Now, he had experienced the feeling of making love to her, and it was more wonderful and overwhelming than he could ever imagine. Her skin was soft and yielding, her flavor sweeter than any nectar and her body felt perfect molded to his. She was a perfect fit for him, everything about her felt so right and he wanted to experience the strength of her love and passion again and again.

His mind drifted to the sweet words she whispered to him the night before. She said she loved him. Was it true? Was it not a dream? He spent so many years hiding his heart behind a thick wall and she, with a smile and a touch, shattered the wall and his heart lay open and vulnerable in front of her. She fell asleep last night entwined with him. He lay awake for hours watching her in wonder and listening to her breathing until sleep finally enveloped him. She whispered his name in her sleep, several times, and his heart lurched in is chest to her every whisper.

On his chest, Nikita stirred and cut his train of thought. He looked at her and saw her cornflower eyes open slowly. She blinked a few times and then looked into his eyes. He saw the emotion flood her eyes. He saw adoration, happiness and love in the twin blue pools and his heart faltered. They just stared at each other for a few more seconds and then Nikita rose slightly, leaned down and pressed her kiss-bruised lips to his in a slow, erotic kiss. Michael felt his body responding to her touch immediately. It seemed that Nikita noticed that because she uttered a small giggle of delight and broke the kiss. She propped her chin on his chest and grinned mischievously to him.

"Are your walls soundproof?" she suddenly asked.

A confused expression entered Michael's face, "Why do you ask?"

Nikita laughed and buried her head in his chest. "Because if they aren't, then everybody around here knows what we did last night," she answered, her voice a little muffled, "I'm afraid I've been slightly... vocal," she said impishly.

Michael chuckled and she felt his chest rumble beneath her. "'Slightly' vocal?" he asked, his hand caressing her hair.

She swatted his chest playfully, "Ok, so more than 'slightly'," she agreed with a giggle, slight blush covering her face, "but I don't recall you complained," she said with raised eyebrows.

Michael pulled her up towards him, "Indeed, I didn't," he agreed and pulled her mouth to him for another erotic kiss. He caught her lower lip between his teeth and suckled softly, tasting her unique flavor. Nikita moaned into his mouth and felt his already hardened arousal pressing insistently into her thigh. She broke the arousing kiss with a sigh to Michael's groan of protest.

"You haven't answered my question," she stated.

"Question?" he asked distractedly, his hands sliding downward and caressing her hips.

"Yeah, my question," Nikita started to become a little distracted herself, "about your walls?"

"Oh," he smiled, "Yes, they are soundproof."

Nikita started to laugh, "Thank god."

Michael shrugged, "They probably know anyway, considering you haven't left my room all night."

"Michael, shut up. You talk to much." She murmured, thoughts disappearing from her head to Michael's light touch on her hips. She lowered her mouth to his, "Now, where were we?"

Michael chuckled into her mouth as their lips locked again in a passionate kiss. "I think.... we were right here." with a swift motion he rolled her to her back and grinned down to her.

She stretched comfortably on her back and wrapped the blanket around herself, looking into his eyes. Michael lay beside her, propped on his elbow.

"So, Ni-ki-ta," he said softly, "tell me something about yourself."

Nikita reached up to tangle her fingers with his. "What do you want to know?" she asked, just as softly. Michael shrugged, "Everything."

"Ok," she answered. She proceeded to tell him about her childhood. About her father that abandoned the family even before she was born, about her mother, Roberta, the career woman who was always preoccupied with her business and never paid much attention to her daughter, the private schools she attended and so on. Nikita's grasp around Michael's fingers tightened as she told him her story, "So, basically, my mom was never there," she said bitterly, using her other hand to wipe angry tears from her eyes, "she missed all the important events in my life, she didn't come to my graduation party because she had to fly to Europe on business. All she ever did was paying for school, an apartment, a car, and everything else, using money as a substitute for love, for attention." She stopped the flow of words to breath deeply and Michael pressed a kiss to their entwined fingers, urging her with his eyes to continue.

"Eventually, after I finished college and turned down some job offers, I started to work in Technocom. I was good in my work, so I got promoted, and after several years I got the job I've always wanted."

"The head of Technocom's technology section." Michael completed.

"Yes." She turned her head and took several deep breathes, composing herself.

"So, where is your mother now?" he questioned.

Nikita shrugged, "the last time I heard, she moved to Zurich to continue with her business. She doesn't give a damn about me, anyway. It's been years since I've heard from her, not via e-mail."

"Thank you." She heard Michael's soft voice.

"Thank me? For what?" she questioned, confused.

"For sharing your life story with me. It means a lot to me."

She smiled to him and brought her entwined fingers to her mouth, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. "Thank you for listening." She released her fingers from his and her hand started roaming over his hard chest and flat stomach. He moaned as her finger dipped into his navel, and traveled back up in a tantalizing motion. He grabbed her wrists before her hand invaded a more dangerous territory and pinned them softly to the bed.

Nikita giggled, "You have severe control issues, are you aware of that?"

He smiled wickedly and flipped her on her stomach, moving his body atop hers and intertwining his fingers with hers. "And some interesting moves, too," he whispered into her ear.

Nikita shivered with desire as she felt the caress of his breath on her neck and his hardness pressing against her lower back. "Oh, I bet you do..."

*****

About an hour later, Nikita and Michael were lying on the bed beside each other, struggling to catch their breath.

"I've got to hand it to you," Nikita murmured, still panting, "You can be very... creative."

Michael smiled, "Thank you." He rolled to his side and propped his head on his arm. His other hand moved to caress her neck and breasts lightly with his fingertips. "Stay here for a while?" he asked.

"Ohhh," Nikita moaned, getting aroused again by his touch, "I wish I could. But I have to get to work, people will get suspicious if I don't show up. I'm a workaholic, you know."

His roaming hand stilled and his body stiffened noticeably. Nikita glanced at him and cursed silently. Why did she have to remind him of her work? The working in the company that stood against everything he believed in? She rolled to her side as well, facing him. With her free hand she stroked his hair silently. He still looked a little agitated.

"You still haven't told me why you came here, Nikita," he said quietly, the look in his eyes turning distant.

Nikita sighed and told him everything. He listened attentively, not disturbing her even once, until she finished her story.

Nikita studied his expression. He still looked distant, even a little cold. She felt a lump forming in her throat. They were from different sides. Will that come between them eventually? She swallowed hard and turned her back to him, coming to get out of the bed. His hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"Nikita, I'm sorry," he said softly, "I didn't mean to close off to you, I'm so used to do it that I hardly feel it anymore."

Her shoulders started to shake and she turned back to face him, tears in her eyes. He wiped her tears with his hand and pulled her into his arms. She sighed and burrowed deeper into his embrace. "I just don't want it to separate us, Michael," she said.

"It won't, I won't let it," he whispered into her ear and hugged her closer, hoping with all his heart that that was a promise he will be able to keep.

Nikita smiled, feeling much better already and moved out from his arms with a sigh. She went out of the bed and started to pick up her clothes. She took that chance to scrutinize the room. She didn't look at it the night before. Nikita smiled at the thought, she was too busy looking at Michael. The room wasn't very large, although spacious and comfortable. It contained a bed, a chair, a desk with a small computer on it, a wooden door that lead to a small bathroom and a stereo system. The walls and the floor had wood paneling and gave the room a cozy look.

Michael leaned back and looked at her nude body. Her hair was all tousled and her lips were red and kiss-swollen. He noticed the two love bites on her neck and the tiny bite marks around her nipples, physical proofs to their night of passion. Michael was a little bruised himself. He had tiny grooves, half-moon shaped on his butt and red scratches along his back; the result of her nails digging into his flesh in her height of passion. Nikita finished picking up her clothes and started getting dressed. She felt Michael's eyes on her and it made her feel very self-conscious. She enjoyed it, nonetheless.

She made her movements deliberately seductive to torment him. Michael grinned. He saw her movements turn seductive and realized her game immediately. She swayed her hips enticingly as she slipped on her panties while looking at him with innocent blue eyes. She noticed his heated gaze and smiled devilishly. She turned her back to him and grabbed her pants, sliding them slowly up her legs. A split second later he was standing behind her. His strong arms wrapped around her waist and he pulled her to him. She turned in his arms, her eyes devouring his perfect masculine body.

Her eyes roamed over his muscled shoulders and chest, down to his abdomen and... the rest of him. Her eyes lingered on the area below his abdomen and she grinned, well aware to the effect she had on him. She wriggled out from his arms while wagging her finger at him. "Not now, Michael," she grinned, "I see that you're...er... ready... but I have no time now, gotta go," she teased. She stepped back and put on the rest of her clothes and her shoes quickly. She looked at him, standing naked in the middle of the room. He looked utterly delicious.

He moved towards her in the panther-like stride of his and pulled her roughly into his arms. He lowered his head and gave her a soul-scorching, deep, hungry kiss. He broke the kiss abruptly and grinned at her. "Just a little something so you won't forget me while you're not here," he teased softly. She smiled and pulled his head down for another kiss. "I could never forget you," she whispered into his mouth, "Never."

*****

Nikita sat in her chair and stared at her computer screen. She arrived at the office about 15 minutes ago, and since then she couldn't stop thinking about Michael. She missed him already. It's silly, she thought, I've only left him an hour ago and I already miss him. She smiled as she remembered his last words to her before they parted.

"When will I see you again?" she had asked him, reluctant to leave until she knew when their next meeting will take place.

He smiled then and replied, "I will find a way, I'll come to you."

This statement, tempting as it was, worried her a little. "But you can't come out," she had protested, "The police may recognize and capture you."

He pulled her into his arms then and the look in his eyes turned serious. "Nothing will keep me away from you," he'd said, "Nothing." He gave her a fierce kiss and they parted.

She went home, changed her clothes, and rushed to the office, arriving only slightly late. She felt like she was walking on air. The sky had a beautiful shade of blue, the cold October sun was shining and everything looked so lively. She was unable to stop smiling. "You look good today, Sugar," Walter had told her when she went to see him, "Are you in love or somethin'?" If only he knew... "Come on, Walter," she said with a grin, "you know that you're my one and only." Walter laughed then and she went to her office. She could hardly concentrate on her work. The only thing she could think about was Michael and when she'll see him again.

"Nikita?" She almost jumped when Simon called her name.

"What is it, Simon?" she asked tiredly, rubbing her eyes. From obvious reasons, she didn't get much sleep last night, but oh, what a night, and she was tired.

Simon studied her face for a moment. "You look tired, are you ok?" he asked.

"Yeah, Simon, I'm fine," she replied, "So, are we making any progress?"

"Actually, no," Simon said with a frown, "from some reason, the rebels never used the bogus backdoor I built."

"Maybe it was too hidden," Nikita said, keeping her face calm and neutral.

Simon shook his head, "No it can't be. The security breaches we've had indicate that they know what they're doing. They are great with computers, they should've found that backdoor already, they had all night."

"So maybe they realized that it was a trap?" Nikita suggested.

"It's very hard to believe," Simon replied, slightly offended, "It wasn't obvious at all. Even though they're very good, I don't think they're that good. Somehow... somebody warned them."

*****

"This is so unfair!" Kristin murmured and gave the punching bag another vicious kick.

"What is?" asked Liane, panting, while doing a last push-up and collapsing on the floor.

Kristin kicked the bag one last time and sat on the mattress, taking a long gulp from her water bottle. "Have you heard what happened when that chic from Technocom came here the other night?"

Liane rose from the floor and sat, cross-legged, next to Kristin, "You mean Nikita Ross? The head of-"

"Yeah, HER," Kristin said angrily.

"What about her?"

"What about her??? The rumor says that she went to Michael's quarters and stayed there all night long!"

"Ohhh, yeah," Liane grinned, "I heard about it. From about six different people."

"Heard what?" Jennifer approached them, impish smile on her face.

"About Michael and..." Liane started.

"Oooh, yes!" Jennifer giggled and sat next to Kristin, "Jeez, he's lucky for the soundproof walls in his quarters," she winked at Kristin, "can't imagine what we might've hear if he didn't have them."

"How can you be so unconcerned about it?" Kristin rose from the mat and stated pacing around the room, "aren't you worried about it?"

"Why worried, Kris?" questioned Liane.

"Well, DUH, because she's the ENEMY!!!" Kristin said angrily, "She works for Technocom, how can he be more stupid???"

"C'mon," Jennifer drawled, "I trust Michael's judgment and so should you. Besides, you've had a crash on him for years, it's the jealousy speaking."

"Is not!" Kris got angrier, "I'm just saying that he shouldn't loose his head over blonde hair and big breasts!"

"Actually, her breasts aren't big," Jennifer informed, "she's-"

"That's not my point!" Kris bit out, "I don't believe he's doing this. He's putting himself and us at risk, 'cos he's thinking with his dick!" She stopped pacing and narrowed her eyes at her tow friends, "This will end up badly, I know it." She finished and stormed out of the workout room.

*****

"Michel."

Michael raised his head from the plans he was working on and nodded to Rene to step into his office. He was having problems concentrate since that night with Nikita. He kept remembering her soft voice, sweet taste and heady scent. He missed her badly. But he didn't let those feelings interfere with his work. He knew he needs his concentration in order to achieve his goals.

"What is it, Rene?"

Rene sat in the empty chair in front of his friend and looked at him for several seconds. Michael stared back blankly, unwilling to break the silence.

"How are you, Michel?" Rene finally asked.

"I'm fine," Michael replied evenly and his eyes burned into his friend's eyes. "You want to talk to me about Nikita." He said, stating a fact other than asking a question.

"Oui." Rene nodded. He sighed and stared at the ceiling. "People are... gossiping. About the night she came here."

"I know." Came Michael's quiet reply.

Rene looked back into Michael's eyes, "most of them don't approve."

"And you?"

Rene sighed, the question throwing him off-balance for a second, "I trust your judgment, Michel, I just hope you're not... losing your head."

"Don't worry," Michael said, "I know what I'm doing."

Rene nodded, a note of amusement in his expression. He had never been able to move Michel from his decisions. And Michel was usually right.

"Do you anticipate a mutiny?" Michael's voice shook him again.

"No, I don't think so," Rene shook his head, "they just need to... get used to it."

Michael nodded and rose from his chair. Only now Rene noticed he was dressed in black. A black shirt, black pants and black boots. He took his black leather jacket from the back of his chair and shrugged it on. The chair buzzed and the imprint of Michael's body was wiped out as the chair was back to its regular shape.

Rene looked at him quizzically, "Where are you going?"

Michael ignored the question, "I'll be back before dawn," and turned to leave his office.

"Michel."

Michael turned to look at his friend.

"Be careful."

*****

Nikita went out of her car and stepped wearily into her building. That day was the longest she has ever had. The hours seemed to stretch on and on and she couldn't wait to get out of there. Finally, at about eight o'clock she was finally ready to go home. Simon and she have worked on the security problem all day long and all she longed to take a long, hot shower and go to sleep. She wondered what was Michael doing at this very moment. Probably busy, trying to breach Technocom's security system. She felt a pang of guilt. Instead of trying to help him, she was busy spending her day in making it very hard for him. But what could she do? If she stopped doing her work properly, or quit her powerful position, people would get suspicious.

She sighed and stepped into the elevator. She stepped into her dark apartment and ordered the lights to switch on. She looked around. She had always liked her apartment, but now it seemed cold and empty, devoid of warmth and emotion. She headed towards the shower, shedding her clothes on the way. She stepped into it naked. She showered slowly, letting the warm water wash over her. She soaped up her body quickly, shampooed her hair and stepped out of the shower. She rubbed her body dry with a thick towel and donned her bathrobe. She snuggled into it, trying to absorb some warmth. She headed towards her bedroom, but before she could order the lights to switch on, an arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her back. She recognized his touch immediately.

"Michael," she whispered and turned into his arms to face him. She could see his beautiful face, his features partially hidden in the shadows, and his green eyes that burned with emotion.

"I've been thinking of you all day," she whispered, her hands cupping his face and caressing him softly.

" Mon dieu, how much I've missed you," he returned softly, "from the moment you left I wanted you back." With that statement he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her deeply.

Nikita moaned and pulled his head closer to hers, crushing his mouth to hers hungrily. Michael groaned and his hands slipped into her robe. His hands roamed over her body, one hand settled on her thigh and the other one cupped her breast, squeezing the firm globe lightly. Nikita shoved her hands greedily into his black leather jacket and it slid to the floor. She then broke the kiss, breathing ruggedly.

"Not here," she whispered, "I want you in my bed." She took his hands in hers and pulled him to the bed. Even before they reached the bed, Nikita started tugging at his clothes, doing her best to remove them as fast as she could. Michael laughed quietly and pushed her away of him gently. She raised quizzical eyes to meet his. He smiled seductively and started removing his clothes by himself. Nikita shed her bathrobe and soon they were standing naked in front of each other. The sight of Michael's naked, aroused body caused a wave of desire to course through Nikita's body. She leaped into his arms and wrapped her legs tightly around him.

They fell heavily on the bed with Nikita on top. She sat, straddling his waist, and smiled seductively. She leaned down and started kissing his throat. Michael moaned and his hands moved down Nikita's body, coming to rest on her buttocks. His palms cupped and kneaded them, pressing them hard to his body. Nikita moaned as she felt his hardness against her soft skin. She was already wet and writhing with anticipation. Breathing unevenly, she lifted her pelvis slightly from his and sat down hard, causing his manhood to slam into her.

They both cried out simultaneously as a wave of pleasure hit their joined bodies. Michael's hands squeezed Nikita's buttocks forcefully and they started to move in a sensual rhythm. Michael groaned. She felt so warm and tight and wet around him and he felt that if he didn't stop her now, he was going to come before her. He raised his knee quickly and rolled them over, landing on top of her. He then increased the rhythm until he felt her body beginning to spasm. "Michael!" she cried out and climaxed swiftly, her internal grip on him strengthening. Michael groaned harshly and climaxed inside of her.

They lay quietly only a few short seconds and then Michael rose slightly, moving to a sitting position, taking her willing body with him. His hands wrapped around her waist as hers wrapped around neck and pulled him to hers. Nikita moved her lips to his neck and bit him hard, eliciting a husky groan from Michael. He chuckled slightly, voice thick with desire, "Easy, ma cher."

She looked at him, her desire-filled gaze teasing, "Am I being too rough on you?"

He answered with another husky chuckle and a deep kiss from him, "Never." His hands then left her waist and moved to clasp her palms, taking them off of his neck and pushing her back down to the bed. He looked at the beauty laid down in front of him. Her golden hair was spanned on the pillow, her skin gleaming with sweat, her eyes blue pools of love and desire. He slowly leaned down and brushed her mouth with his. Nikita moaned into his mouth and fastened her legs around him, bringing him deeper inside of her. He straightened again, to her frustrated groan and smiled at her wickedly, "Patience, ma cher."

Nikita mattered something about getting back at him later when he leaned closer, starting to trace a finger down her body, making her forget whatever it was she was about to say. His finger traced her lips idly, before moving down and touching the hardened peak of one breast. Nikita moaned and arched her back, but his touch remained as light as a feather. He circled the hard tip lazily with his finger and then leaned down and licked it gently. Nikita moaned again, her hands gripping his waist and pulling him deeper inside. He felt himself growing harder and larger inside of her but, still, he stayed in the same position, lust-filled eyes half-lidded, driving her crazy with his hand. He moved to her second peak, touching it so lightly with the pad of his finger and then scraping it with the edge of his nail. Nikita started whispering, moving against him, writhing with her arousal. He continued playing with her nipples, brushing them with his fingertips and nails, rolling them between finger and thumb and squeezing them gently to her delighted moans. As he leaned down and licked her nipple ever so softly, she couldn't restrain the words from passing her tightly-clenched teeth, "Mi-chael... please, oh god, please..."

He smiled at her wickedly again and his finger moved further down, coming to rest gently on the place they were joined. Nikita's eyes were riveted on his finger and then traveled to his eyes. He could see the passion clearly written in them. Then his thumb started rubbing against her hard bud, his mouth fastening around one nipple and suckling hard. She started whimpering again, in time with his strokes, her head swimming with the sensations he was creating in her. To her next tortured whimper, he surrendered to the pleading in his lover's eyes and withdrew his hand, Braced his arms on either side of her, and started moving again inside of her, even faster than before, until their bodies shook in mutual climax and tumbled over the edge into total bliss.

*****

The lovers lay quietly in the middle of the bed, their bodies still entwined. Nikita traced her index finger across Michael's broad chest, drawing small patters over the strong muscles. Michael's hand caressed her back in lazy circles.

"So, how did you get in here, anyway?" Nikita asked, raising her head and looking into his eyes.

"We have recordings of your voice from the first time you were brought in," he replied, "and with a little gizmo that our lab invented we were able to imitate your voice accurately."

Nikita's hand found his flat nipple and caressed it gently. She lowered her mouth to him and kissed it. Michael sighed and wrapped his arms tighter around her, clutching her to his chest. Nikita held him to her tightly and buried her head in his chest. They just lay there quietly for a few minutes and then Nikita raised her head and looked at him.

"So, Michael," she began, "tell me something about yourself. I don't know anything about you."

"What do you want to know?"

She regarded him thoughtfully for a few seconds and then started.

"First of all, what's your last name?"

"Samuelle," he replied, his French accent sliding over the word.

Oh my, this accent... "Hmm, by your accent I assume you originate from French?"

"Yes. I was born in Marseilles and lived in Paris until I was 23."

"Which brings us to another question; how old are you?"

"Thirty two," he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"So, what brought you to America? And how did you become... well, a rebel?"

His expression became shattered and distant as he looked away, his eyes blinking rapidly.

"Michael?" Nikita said worriedly, "what is it? Please, tell me."

Michael sighed heavily and told her everything about his past, about his family. "My parents..." he whispered, "they died in a car accident, because a malfunction in the navigation system of their car, leaving me to take care of my 18 years old sister." He swallowed and continued, "when I came here, with my sister and my best friend Rene, and came with the idea of the rebellion against the system, I had to hide. Needless to say, the police was after me since the first moment. My friend and my sister helped me, supported me, loved me..." he blinked again and Nikita saw his eyes glisten with unshed tears. She placed a soothing hand on his face and pleaded him with her eyes to go on.

"A short while later, my sister was grabbed, taken hostage by my enemies. I was fully prepared to give myself to them in exchange to her life, but..." a lone tear flowed silently down his cheek, "she died. They murdered her... in cold blood."

"God, Michael. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for your family. I didn't know, I wish I could make you feel better." She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. "That's why your eyes were so sad," she whispered to him, feeling the beat of his heart against her chest.

"You vanished the sadness, 'Kita," he whispered, voice hoarse with emotion, "it still hurts, but thanks to you, the pain is more bearable." They lay there for a while. Holding each other, giving and receiving comfort.

"I'm so sorry you've suffered so much, Michael," Nikita whispered to him after a few minutes of comforting silence. "I'm glad that you came here, though," she gave him a loving smile and he returned it.

"Is that enough information for now?" he teased gently.

"For now. Only one more question: Are you hungry?"

"Starving. I haven't eaten all day," he answered.

"Good." She smiled and went out of the bed. She picked up his black shirt from the floor, and slipped it on. The shirt was a little too long on her body and it ended in her mid-thigh. She turned to look at him and smiled, "You just stay here. Dinner will be right up."

She went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. Thanks to the computerized system, which controlled the refrigerator, as well as in the rest of the electric instruments in the house, the fridge always contained her favorite foods and drinks. She poked her head inside the fridge, trying to decide what to make for dinner. After considering a few ideas, she decided on a meal containing scrambled eggs, fresh croissants, cheeses, honey and orange juice.

She cracked four eggs and poured the contents into the frying pan. After a few seconds, the pan chimed, notifying Nikita that the eggs were ready. A few more preparations, and dinner was ready. Nikita placed everything on a tray and carried it upstairs to the bedroom.

As she entered to the bedroom, she found Michael lying on his back, his eyes closed and a contented smile on his angelic face. Nikita just stood there for several moments watching him, admiring his beauty. He indeed looked angelic. His silk-soft auburn hair was lying on the white pillow, the short curls framing his face beautifully. Long, dark lashes rested on his cheeks and the lush lips were pink and soft looking. Nikita placed the tray on the bedside table and bent towards him kissing his lips lightly. Green eyes opened and looked at her tenderly. She smiled and slipped under the sheets beside him, snuggling close to him.

"I brought dinner," she whispered while caressing his hair.

He smiled, "Thank you 'Kita."

She moved to a sitting position, pulling him with her and brought the tray from the table. She placed the try upon their knees and handed him a fork and a knife. "Bon Apettite."

They started eating. Michael spread butter on his croissant and finished it in two bites. Nikita looked at him with amusement and fed him with another one. He licked the butter that dripped on her fingers and took another croissant, dipping it in honey. He moved it towards her lips and waited patiently until she took a bite. He ate the rest of it and reached to the scrambled eggs.

After the meal was over, Nikita placed the tray back on the table and lay back with a contented sigh. Michael placed his arms around her and hugged her close to him. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Nikita said, "Michael?"

"Humm?"

"I want to ask you something."

He lowered his eyes to meet hers, his gaze curious.

"That music I heard when I came to your room... what was it?"

"Ah," Michael smiled, "It's a very old tune, from the 20th century."

"You told me the name of it was "Love Story", right?" She asked.

"Well, actually, it was Vienna's orchestra playing a theme from the movie "Love Story". It's one of my favorites." Michael replied.

"Really? What was it about? The movie, I mean."

"It was about a law student who fell in love with a poor music student. His father told him that if he stays with her, he won't give him his time of day," Michael paused for a second.

"Well? What happened then?" Nikita urged him to continue.

He smiled down at her, "what so you think happened?"

She smiled into his chest, "I think he ignored his ass of a father and married his girl."

"You're right," Michael smiled back tenderly, "They got married. They tried to have children, but the wife couldn't get pregnant. They went to the doctor and he discovered she had cancer."

"This is so sad."

"She died. It was a very sad movie."

Nikita nuzzled his chest, "Heartbreaking. And the music was beautiful, so romantic. I've never heard something so beautiful."

"Really?" Michael looked surprised. He tilted her head up to meet his eyes, "You've never heard the classical music that was common in the 20th and the 21st centuries?"

Nikita shook her head, "No, never."

"Then you really should," Michael waved his hand, "today's music is... horrible. It is so tuneless and emotionless."

Nikita roused and braced herself on her elbows, "Will you show me what real music is like?"

Michael smiled and pulled her down for a gentle kiss, "Of course. I can even play for you if you want."

Nikita's eyes widened, "You play an instrument? Which one?"

"I play the cello."

"Cello?" Nikita looked puzzled, "this electric thing?"

"No, not that terrible modern one," Michael grimaced, "My cello is an old-fashioned one, decades old. I got it from my grandfather. He's the one who taught me how to play."

"Really? I would love to hear you play." Nikita lowered her head again and gave him a slow, erotic kiss.

Her tongue slipped between his lips, and entered his mouth. Michael moaned into her mouth and his hands slipped inside his shirt, that was on her, and his hands caressed her warm back. Nikita straightened with a moan of her own, straddling his waist and gazed down at him with passion-filled eyes. In one swift motion, she tugged at her shirt and pulled it over her head, throwing it to the floor.

"Enough talking," she whispered and leaned down to devour his mouth.