***************
The early years
***************

Nikita strode into Madeline's office with all the grace of a gorilla. Chomping furiously on her piece of gum, she noticed that she was alone.

Plopping on the couch, she pulled the gum from her mouth creating long, sticky strings. The slamming of Madeline's door caused her to jump to attention. Part of the gum still hung from her mouth as she swung to greet the intruder.

"Michael." she wiped furiously at the hanging piece of gum, serving only to create a blue, sticky mess all along her chin.

Michael stood there taking in the site of his trainee. Blue gum balled and smeared around full lips, eyes wide with wonder and embarrassment, cheek flushed a bright red hue, body gracefully encased in a one-piece cat suit which accentuated her every curve.

He folded his arms across his chest before shooting her a disdainful look. "Let's go!" he said with a small tilt of his head.

"Where we going?" She asked looking at him through the reflection of the mirror as she pulled the remaining stickiness from her face.

"There's one part of your training we haven't covered yet."

She raised her eyebrows thinking 'One could only guess what had been left out.'

They entered a small room with one large window. The somewhat lilting sounds of a Russian waltz filled the otherwise barren Section-issue white room.

They stood for a moment evaluating each other like two gunman in a shoot-out. Both ready to either fight or run.

"Okay, put your hand on my shoulder." He instructed, hoping that she didn't notice the gulp he suppressed. Inwardly, he cursed the fact that Madeline had insisted that he be the one to teach Nikita.

With a forced sigh, she grabbed his shoulder in a death grip.

He winced and gently corrected her, widening his eyes to stress the point, "Rest it there."

She relaxed her grip only slightly giving him a sardonic smile. His arm surrounded her slight waist. She stepped back glaring at him, with hands on her hips.

"Nikita!" he warned not moving the held position of his hands.

She stepped closer, reluctantly. They moved awkwardly as she looked over their arms trying to gauge the awkward movement of her feet.

"Don't look down... Ow!" He stepped back from her as she trampled his left foot.

"I'm sorry" she mumbled, frowning. She told herself that looking anywhere but directly in his eyes was preferable.

They tried again, but the scenario kept replaying itself.

Michael's patience was wearing thin. She could tell by the tight line of his lips, and his continual sighing.

"Michael, I can't dance to that!" she exclaimed, her nerves as raw as his. She flipped the sound system to a loud and raucous rock 'n' roll station. She started gyrating around the room. Moving like a wooden marionette doll. Her movements uncoordinated, jerky as she attempted to show him how *she* danced.

Calmly, he changed the music to something more soulful, mournful. She stopped to listen as the singer crooned some ancient love song. Tilting her head in approval, she waited for him to come back to his position.

"Wait here." Michael held up a hand signaling her to stay.

He returned with a blindfold of sorts. He stood behind her fastening the dark cloth around her head.

The blindfold left her in total darkness, and hands spread out in front of her in an attempt to steady herself in this new world without light. Her hands in their quest for balance came in contact with Michael's solid chest.

He covered them with his own, pulling her towards him. Placing her arms at her sides, he then moved but a whisper away from her tingling flesh making a tight circle around the rigid body, his warmth the only clue.

"Listen to the music," he whispered in one ear. She turned her head toward the sound of his voice.

"No." He pushed the side of her face around front. His fingertips traced between her shoulder blades creating ripples of tingling sensation traveling down her back.

"Dancing is like the mating of two souls." his voice was moving away from her. She followed him in his wide circle around her continually facing the sound of his voice. Her hands once again shooting outward to steady herself in this dizzying course.

"Music is the revealing of a tone in some world far from our own, where music and moonlight and feeling are one."

The walls of the room seem to close in on her with the deluge of heightened awareness. The blindfold another bond created a stuffiness that boxed her in, leaving her alone with raging senses and nowhere to direct them. She felt hot and dizzy. Her breathing quickened creating yet another harmony to the quells of music that seemed to transcend this reality.

His voice was silent. All of her senses strained to locate him. He was somewhere deep in the sounds of music.

Beside her, very near, the richly accented voice now deepened and husky urged, "Listen, not with your ears, look not with your eyes, but with your whole body."

Her hands fell to her side in gentle resignation and willful submission. Once free of self-restraint, her body swayed in rhythm with the music.

His instruction continued, his voice louder and more insistent, "Feel all of your partner, let your senses come alive with the sensations that you feel as you press your body close to his."

He was very near her now. Senses alive, the faint scent of his aftershave tickled her nose, the warmth of his body added heat to hers, the taste of his warm breath penetrated her mouth. She licked it from her lips, deliciously. Every hair stood on end begging to be stroked.

"Dance." he whispered.

The music faded a distant addition to the pounding beat of her heart echoing in her head. Her hand came up slowly to rest precisely on his shoulder.

"Good." He breathed moisture inches from her lips.

She could feel his smile.

Her other hand closed over his mouth. "Shh!'

Her hips joined his -a perfect fit- and they glided across the room as if they were one body. Her body felt and met his every move, anticipating each step. The swirled, spinning in tight configurations. Floating. Falling. Free.

They stopped together, and she thought she heard the singer crooning something about 'hungry eyes'.

Michael hands moved to remove the blindfold. It dropped in a soft whisper to the floor.

Her eyes remained firmly shut.

**************************
See One; Do One; Teach One
**************************

Nikita opened the creaking Section door to find a very nervous young man pacing 'round the circular room.

"David?"

A gorgeous young man twirled around to greet her. He gave new meaning to the phrase tall dark and handsome. The standard balck slacks rippled over tight thighs and backside with his every step, and the issued T-shirt was taut against his solid washboard stomach. He had the cutest dark lock of hair the fell over his forehead, and his eyes were the most piercing icy blue.

Nikita cleared her throat, "Uh, you're new?" she asked, walking over to the stereo system in the wall. He nodded. She winced as nauseating ballroom music echoed off the bare white walls.

"This is my first time" she started nervously, very affected by his unrelenting stare. He held her eyes with such intensity that she thought she might never make it across the room into his arms.

"Your first time..." he raised an eyebrow and smiled, revealing the most beautiful set of white teeth.

She blushed, biting her lip and placing her hands on her hips. She kept her head down until she was inches from him; then lifting her head , she smiled at him.

"Yeah." came out a bit more husky than she intended.

"Tell me. What is it that women usually wear while dancing to this type of music?" He grinned, glancing down at her white v-necked T-shirt that came just short of reaching the tiny set of Heather-gray sweat shorts.

Biting her upper lip she raised cold, deadpan eyes to him, "David," she whispered confidentially, "I could have you canceled for that!"

His eyes opened wide in shock, but he recovered quickly noticing her flirtatious wink.

Observing the little foray via monitors were Michael and Walter. Walter couldn't decide which he was enjoying more - the effect David and Nikita had on each other, or the effect that watching Nikita had on Michael. The man was positively green.

"Whose idea was it for her to train him?" Michael hissed to no one in particular.

"Madeline suggested it, and I agreed." Walter offered "He's a kid from the streets too, and by the looks of it Madeline was right."

Walter left the perch, but Michael remained glued to the monitors.

Watching them was like a bad case of deja vous. David was no better at learning the waltz than Nikita had been some two years ago. Like Nikita, David insisted on switching the music to something more his style. Michael waited for Nikita to change the music, but she didn't . Instead....

"I love this song!" she hung out eager hands, jumping a little in expectation. Not since she had been in the Section had anyone been able to relate to her kind of music.

David wasted no time in claiming his prize. He walked over to Nikita taking her extended hands and whirling her inward toward his chest. His lips a heartbeat from hers, they held the position aware of his hips gently pressing behind hers.

She moved in front of him, running her fingers through her hair as they dropped lower and lower in time with the music. He shot one arm around her waist keeping her body pressed against his. She laughed as the song finished, and they found themselves within inches of the floor. "You're good!" she applauded.

"You're better" he said a little breathless.

The next song was alive with fire that ignited each of them. They stepped together again, circling each other shoulder to shoulder before he gently dipped her in his arms. Then grasping behind her outstretched legs, lifting her upward until she was towering above him, supported fully in the curve of his arm. With one movement he brought her body flush with his, her buttocks still resting in the crooks of his folded arms.

His forehead rested lightly against the skin of her exposed stomach. He dropped her down another inch or so until his wet lips streaked from her belly to her neck. She slid down his torso continuing down his leg in pulsing time with the music. He pulled her up by one arm and they melded their bodies together both feeling like they couldn't get close enough. Her hands cupped his buttocks and his hand held the back of her thigh as she wrapped first one leg around his waist then another. He rolled her outstretched upper body away from him in an arcing circle; her legs still circled his waist, and his arms supported the small of her back. She came up from the sweep and found herself once again eye to eye with the new recruit. She felt his hands crawl under the back of her top.

She squeezed her thighs lifting her body inches higher to claim his lips.

The heavy door creaked open and Nikita squirmed away from David, freeing herself in one swift moment from their intimate embrace. Michael walked in observing the flush on Nikita's face and both operatives labored breathing. David was rubbing his head and turning away from Michael.

"How are the lessons?" Michael asked Nikita raising an eyebrow and tilting his head toward the loud rock 'n' roll music.

"Fine" she choked, then cleared her throat offering him a tight smile.

"Great!" David answered as well, and a little too excitedly for Michael's tastes. He nodded knowingly at David before giving Nikita a look that said you-should-know-better.

"Everything's fine." she repeated still unable to look him in the eye.

"I think what you need is that blindfold." Michael suggested devilishly - a hint of a smile playing on his eyebrows and tugging the corners of his lips.

"Blindfold?" David questioned.

"That's not necessary, Micahel." She glared at him, shaking her head. "We're fine."

"No tell me," David pressed. "What blindfold?"

Michael switched the music back to the ballroom station. David and Nikita both sighed. "There's more to dancing this music than meets the ear." Michael said, stroking his chin while appraising the exchanged glances between the two operatives.

Nikita groaned while Micahel pulled from his sleeve a large black blindfold. "Michael..."

"Shh!" He put two fingers over her lips. She watched as he blindfolded David. He motioned her forward. "David, just follow Nikita's lead." he instructed.

Michael situated the two in classic ballroom poses and then stepped behind Nikita.

"What ...what are you doing?" she asked warily as he molded his body to hers covering her hands with his.

"Teaching" he whispered in her ear. He moved her hair to one side and rested his chin on her shoulder, breathing warm air over her neck.

Nikita felt a flush of warmth, "Michael," she warned.

"What's going on?" David asked.

"Nothing, " Michael's voice rang cheerily. "Let's dance."

Every movement was pure torture and ecstasy as Michael took great care in seducing her, knowing full well that any reaction from her would clue David as to what was really going on.

Nikta closed her eyes as Michael moved his head over her shoulder breathing puffs of warm air then gently tipping the area with his tongue. Up at her ear he gently bit the soft lobe and trailed his moistened lips behind the ear, tracing her hair line intermittently with his darting tongue. She tensed gripping David's hands so tightly that he shouted in pain.

"OWW! Are you okay?" he asked, confusion wrinkling his face.

"Fine." she breathed. * Oh yeah she remembered.. I'm supposed to be breathing *

Michael traced the insides of her arms lightly with his fingertips then trailed them to her waist gently assisting her swaying hips in time with the music.

UP ABOVE

"Can you believe this?" Walter asked Madeline.

Madeline rested her chin on her fisted hand. "Amazing." She smiled, then pulled Walter away from the monitor.

DOWN BELOW

"Okay, David. I think you got the hang of it." Nikita said with an unsteady voice. She moved from Michael and David to the music careful to avoid Michael's stare burning into her back. Away from him, she tried to calm her breathing and focus. But her insides were raging, burning.

David handed Michael the blindfold, "Don't really see the use of that." he shrugged.

"Sorry you didn't like it. Nikita loved it." Michael smiled at the inside joke he made.

David wrinkled his face in confusion noticing Nikita was still by the music station fiddling nervously. "Thanks for the... lessons?" He closed the door behind him.

Michael turned to Nikita. She shook her head and walked past him, but he caught her arm. "Teach me?"

"Teach you?" she asked incredulously.

He walked to the wall and found the station to which David and Nikita had danced earlier. He extended the blindfold towards her.

She stood there contemplating, eyeing him and his blasted blindfold.

***************************************************************
Stay out of the Kitchen (Lyrics by Merril Bainbridge "Mouth"
***************************************************************

The insistent distress call of his computer startled Michael out of his reverie. Glancing up, he found a page full of "n's" on his screen. He lifted the errant finger that had depressed the key, amused somewhat by the significance of the repeated lines of the letter. His eyes glazed over remembering his proposition, "Teach me?"

He re-lived the last few minutes, feeling each perception again as if it were the first time. She had smiled at him with an indiscernible glint in her eyes before strolling deliberately towards him. The subtle swaying of her hips was hypnotizing in their steady tempo. The tiny space between her shirt and her shorts revealed a heart-shaped belly button that begged for his touch as it moved from side to side.

...Would it be my fault if I could turn you on?
Would I be so bad if I could turn you on?
When I kiss your mouth I want to taste it
Turn you upside down, don't want to waste it...

She stopped a whisper away; they breathed in unison the sweet air between them. Stroking the soft plane of his cheek, her fingers drifted slowly down his neck, soothing each jumping muscle in her trek down his arm. She circled his wrist, tickling the sensitive area with her fingernails. Her hand moved over his tighened fist, gently prying fingers finding the silky fabric of the blindfold.

...I jump on you, you jump on me
You push me out and even though you know I love you
I'd be inclined to slap you in the mouth
When I kiss your salty lips
You will feel a little crazy, but for me...

She backed away from him, pulling the blindfold like a lifeline between them. When he followed, she stopped allowing the fabric to droop. Taking the hint, he stood still and she drew the blindfold taut before finally tugging it free from his grasp.

She then dangled the ribbon of silk in front of her, eyeing it intensely as if to catch some hidden magic inside its folds. Mesmerized by the way it caught the light, giving it an almost silvery outline, she slowly twirled it between her fingers spiraling it into a flaming, black arc. Moving past the swirling silk, her eyes had locked with his. At that moment, something indiscernible passed between them. He felt it as though it were a physical presence.

...Now, will it be my fault if
I take your love and throw it wide?
You might restrain me,
But could you really blame me?
And you will feel you're blown apart
All the pieces there will fit to make you whole
And I know where they go...

She tilted her head, letting it hang from her neck like a broken doll. "You know," she wrinkled her lips, "I think I've had enough teaching today." With that she dropped the blindfold and left the room, never looking back.

Now, disgusted with himself, Michael sat in his office attempting to type out various reports. A glance at his watch revealed that three hours had passed.

Scrolling through the numerous pages of "n's," he realized that he had not even gotten past the first paragraph. He sat back in his seat taking in the dark coiled, serpentine material on his desk; a reminder of his triumph and failure.

He sighed and looked out the blinds, his mind processing again the responsiveness of her body's movement under his hands. They burned, hot against his thighs with their need to caress her soft skin. A battle raged secretly, inside his brooding exterior -a war between the part of him that wanted to rush to her side and the part of him that was too proud to beg. Frustrated, he stood, shoving his hands in his pockets and pacing to try to relieve his tension.

*********

Nikita closed her apartment door behind her and let out the pent-up breath that she had been holding. Her mind had won so easily just moments before, but her body, now in mutiny, was begging to be back to Michael's arms.

A cold shower seemed in order, but it gave her no relief. She didn't feel the splashing water, cold on her chest; she felt David's sweet lips pressing against her abdomen. Turning quickly to rid herself of that thought, the trickling of water running down her neck felt reminiscent of Michael's wet tongue darting at her hairline. Her hips felt heavy as if Michael's hands still encompassed them.

She shuddered with pleasure at the thought; the sensations she remembered playing havoc with her peace of mind...It was as if both of them were in the shower tormenting her.

*********

She slid the last batch of chocolate chip cookies from the oven. She swiped at the sizzling, melted chocolate and popped a warm pinch in her mouth. Chocolate was a doable passion that she took great pleasure indulging.

The knock at her door made her pause, a treat half-way to her mouth. She closed her eyes, hoping and praying that her guest was Carla and not one of the two men who had consumed her every thought for the last three hours. She glanced quickly over her saggy, flannel sweat shorts and tried in vain to smooth the wrinkled, light blue T-shirt over her hips.

It was Michael. She opened the door almost as if she had been expecting him, allowing him entrance without their usual banter. He took in the scattered exercise equipment abandoned on the floor and the kitchen counter topped with cookies with his usual sweeping glance. His nostrils flared at the strange mixture of chocolate and vanilla, mingling with the indescribable fragrance that belonged only to Nikita. The titillating scents filled the air and he breathed them in deeply, enchanted by their seductiveness. Every cell in his body warned him against staying, yet his pounding heart forced him to discard his coat, revealing his torso encased in a soft, black sweater.

He stood there awkwardly trying to remember what excuse he had conjured for being here. She must be wondering, but no words came to mind. His one thought - his only need was that of filling the void she had created in leaving his side earlier that morning.

She stood behind the protection of the counter squirming. Her hands and arms, having nothing to occupy them, felt very out of place. She wanted...needed desperately for him to break this wall of silence separating them. She didn't dare pretend to know why he had come here now, only hours after their intense dance.

Time seemed to stand still. Trapped together in some parallel universe, the tension between them accelerated wildly in a steadily mounting rhythm coordinated with the sounds of their increased breathing. The blistering of warm chocolate, the buzzing of the second hand in her clock, and the bustling of her gauze curtains, the only sounds penetrating the strange stillness, echoing loudly to create a strange sense of harmony.

"Do you want a cookie?" She breathed finally, sighing in relief that the sound of a voice had filled the void. She turned away from his intense appraisal to face the hot breath of the oven.

"Sure." He walked around the counter shadowing her every movement between the stove and counter; watching her intently as she placed cookies on the wax paper.

"They're still warm." he commented, plopping one in his mouth.

"What?" She nearly dropped the spatula in her nervousness. Two cookies toppled from the utensil landing in soft, pliable masses on the floor. They both looked down at the spoiled morsels, then up at each other.

A drop of chocolate had deliciously poised itself on Michael's chin. So benign in its presence, she marveled that it might always have been there. Tentative fingers reached up to wipe the tiny drop from his stubbly chin, then turned holding her prize before him. He took her finger and licked the drop from it, before tracing her damp finger across the brush of flour abstractly decorating her forehead.

They stood transfixed -like poles of a magnet unable to bridge the force between them. They exhaled at the same time, backing away uncertainly at the power of a such a simple act.

In stepping back, her bare foot landed squarely on the wayward cookies. A slight, hissing sound was heard before she dropped the spatula and lifted her foot to her hands. Jumping awkwardly, her hand shot out for balance and accidentally grabbed the hot pan. She shouted in pain, trying to grasp her hand and foot at the same moment.

Michael took charge, quickly wiping the counter free of the cookies and setting her atop the surface. She protested slightly as he gently nursed her foot, while she held her hand under cool, running water. His hands massaged her foot; the gentle touch soothing to her throbbing insole. She closed her eyes, wincing at the pain and pleasure that his touch provoked.

She bit her lip to suppress a cry as his fingers traced their way along her calves, circling her knees and caressing her lower thighs. Pleased with her response, he rose to his feet.

Efficiently blocking every method of escape, Michael positioned himself tightly between her spread legs, resting his hands on either side of her hips. His face was only inches away from hers, his breath mingling with hers. She found herself intoxicated by his closeness.

"So, tell me, Michael. Does Section know that you're considering private dance lessons?"

He pulled back slightly to catch the meaning in her eyes. She didn't want to be interrupted. For that matter, neither did he. The shrill voice of her telephone, or his piercing the moment would irrevocably silence their passion.

"Shouldn't be a problem." Against his better judgment, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and broke it in half.

She laughed, leaning back on the support of her arms, and raised her eyebrows in mild shock. "I can't *believe* you just did that."

He proceeded to open her kitchen drawer. Pulling her cell phone out, he smashed it against the corner of the counter. He returned his gaze to meet the unmasked desire in her eyes, but she tilted her head to look at the cordless phone.

Reluctantly leaving his position, he yanked the cord from the wall, freeing them of any and all distractions.

She slid off the counter. Crossing her arms playfully, she flirted, "How exactly do you intend on paying me for these lessons which you want so desperately?"

He started to walk toward her but she put up a restraining arm. "Hey now, I need to know the exact nature of your intentions, otherwise- no lessons for you." She challenged him, waving her hand at him to give finality to her words.

He approached her, each step adding emphasis to his words, "I fully intend to illicit the most thrilling sensations here... here.... and here....." He touched her with his eyes. Her skin felt the touch of his gaze, and it seared her like a warm summer breeze.

"Where were we?" Her voice, deepened with longing, drew him like a baited fish to her side.

Surrounding her hips with his hands, he positioned her on the counter top still warm from the cookies. "Here." he answered, kneeling at her feet. He took the wounded foot and kissed it, brushing her ankle tenderly. Both hands moved up to circle her calves. He licked the velvet skin, tickling behind her knees. His fingers and lips slowly working their way up her legs before caressing her inner thighs. Her head fell back letting the ember of anticipation burn hot under his fanning. A look of pure ecstasy crossed her face, leaving her mouth open in a pant, as he proceeded to fulfill each of his promised intentions.

He stood, grasping her waist and pulling her even closer to him. Her hands rested on his shoulders, caressing him through his sweater; while his head dipped closer, glancing butterfly kisses around her mouth. His lips wandered, taking their time as they moved down her neck, pausing to nip at her delicate skin.

She moaned uncontrollably. "When did you want to start those lessons?" was breathed into the soft fabric covering his chest.

"Tomorrow..." His hot breath teased her. She shock under the vibrations of his reply catching in the sensitive area at the base of her neck.

Their hands lingered over each others bodies, slowly exploring the different textures they found, neither wanting to miss an inch. Her hands slid under his sweater to trail across his abdomen and chest, causing him to shudder at the inexplicable force of his hunger.

Pulling his sweater over his head, she blew trace lint off his shoulders and chest. Tasting the sweetness of his upper chest, her lips met his pounding heart in blessed union. Her fingernails grazed his back lightly, slowly making their way down to trace the waistband of his pants.

His hands continued to stroke her thighs following the arch of her hip bone around their crest to her waist. Barely touching her skin and raising goose bumps along his path. His fingertips skirted the edge of her shorts, occasionally foraying into forbidden territory. Seemingly, of their own volition her legs wrapped themselves around his waist, and her fingers moved back up to comb through his hair, bringing his mouth to hers.

His lips met hers once more and her hands crept to the sides of his face, lightly rubbing the bristles she found there. The movements of her fingers against the rough hairs were incredibly erotic for both of them. Their kisses became deeper and more passionate. Their tongues waging a war that they both somehow managed to win.

Cupping his hands beneath her buttocks, he slowly lifted her against him, whirling in tight circles of passion as he carried her towards the bedroom. She laughed huskily in the back of her throat. "What do you know? We're dancing!"

He grinned seductively, "I'm a fast learner."

"So the teaching's over." got lost in the flesh of his shoulder.

"You know," He paused catching her lips, " I think that I'll still need more lessons tomorrow...and the day after that...and the day after that..."

THE END

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