Nikita's Birthday

Friday night – Michael’s office

Michael was feeling guilty.  He was sitting in front of his computer attempting to finish his report on the just-ended Prague mission.  Overall, it had gone well.  There had been a few minor glitches.  However, it was not those glitches that concerned him now. 

It was Nikita.  Always when he thought about her it was with a tangle of emotions.  Pride in the kind of operative she had become; envy of her ability to live life to the fullest, even in this grim, shadowy existence to which fate had assigned them; fear, a gnawing feeling that something calamitous would happen and he wouldn’t be there to protect her; finally, there was lust, because she was a beautiful, young woman desired by many men. 

Just a few hours ago he had run into Nikita in Comm.  Birkoff was within earshot, but had prudently busied himself at his computer.

“Ni-ki-ta.”

“Yes, Michael?”  He gripped her upper arm.

“If you let him touch you . . .”  The rest of the threat was left hanging, but both operatives understood each other perfectly.

“You’re hurting me!” she winced.

“Nikita.  In my office!”  It was Operations’ harsh voice over the intercom.  Michael released her arm.  She turned and walked off toward the perch with an angry scowl on her face. 

“Hell, Michael, why not just throw her over your shoulder and show her who’s really in charge?!”  Birkoff liked both operatives and enjoyed watching their relationship unfold. Even Madeline and Operations overlooked the obvious attraction, to a degree. “As long as he doesn’t put her above his work,” Operations had warned.  Why, it was ten times better than any soap opera!

Michael ignored the comment and handed the young computer expert a small disc.  “I need this analyzed as soon as possible.”  Without waiting for an answer, he turned and went back to his office.

Michael didn’t know what had come over him lately.  In the past, he would never have spoken to Nikita like that in front of other personnel.  But lately every time he turned around Nikita was with Sebastian, one of the new operatives.  Not by choice, he knew, but on orders from Madeline.  However, she seemed to be getting a little too cozy with him.  He had even overheard other operatives talking about them: 

“They look like a pair of Nordic gods, both tall and blonde!”

“I bet he’ll give Michael a run for his money!”

There had been other more explicit remarks, but Michael pushed those from his mind.   

He knew it was ridiculous, but he hated even the sight of them talking together about  missions.  The last straw was when Sebastian reached out and touched Nikita on the arm or shoulder.  Michael thought his blood pressure would go through the roof.  The man had balls to touch his Nikita!

A short time ago Nikita had passed his office on her way out.  Previously, she would come in, slouch down in a chair and complain about Section and some real or imagined injustice.  Or she would just stare at him while suggestively crossing and uncrossing her legs.  Anything to distract him. Even when he had to reprimand her, she would be smacking gum or fidgeting with her hair. 

None of these things happened tonight.  She had looked over as she passed his window and he had glanced up at the same time.  Their eyes met, but there was no further acknowledgement.  Michael wasn’t sure, but he thought she looked a little sad.  Only moments later he noticed Sebastian hurrying in the same direction. 

“Get a grip!”  he told himself.  Operations was expecting his report first thing in the morning and it was almost midnight.  The Prague mission was over, but now the Federov meeting loomed over him.  He returned his attention to the computer and began typing.

After another ten minutes the report was finished.  Michael switched off the computer and got his desk in order.  He turned off the light and stepped into the hall. It was then that he noticed something on the floor under his window.  He picked it up and immediately recognized it as being one of Nikita’s hair barettes.  Small blue and green cloisonne flowers.  He remembered her wearing two of these today to hold back her bangs.  He smiled as he fingered it and put it in his pocket.

“This is just the excuse I need,”  he thought as he walked toward the elevator.  In truth, Michael did not need any excuse to check-up on Nikita.  As her trainer, he had carte blanche over her life.  Only Operations could override him. 

Michael parked the car across and down the street from Nikita’s building.  From here he had a clear view of her balcony.  He had done this several times in the past.  Sometimes it was on orders from Section, other times it was out of his own curiosity.  

The French doors were closed, but the curtains were pulled back, revealing the living room light.  Michael patiently waited. 

***

Nikita stepped off the elevator and trudged wearily toward her apartment.  Every bone in her body ached.  She wanted nothing more than to sink into a hot bath and forget about everything and everybody.  Well, maybe everybody except Michael.  Was he one of the good guys or one of the bad guys?    Lately, she wasn’t sure.  Sometimes he seemed to be reaching out to her, but then in a flash he would become cold and distant. 

As she reached her apartment, the door opposite opened.  “Hullo, luv!”  It was Mick Schtoppel, her altogether too exurberant neighbor.   He was wearing a loud purple shirt and had a martini in one hand.

“I was just popping over to see if you wanted to join us.  I’m having a few friends in for drinks.”

“Thanks, Mick, but I’m really tired.”  He regarded her closely.

“What’s wrong, luv?  Have a rough day at the old Section office?” 

“Something like that.”

“Michael’s not treating you badly, is he?  Because if he is, he’ll have to answer to the Mickster here.”  He gestured to himself with the martini.   

“No, it’s just been a long week, and I want to get some sleep.”

 “Right.  You certainly don’t get much of that when Michael’s around, now do you?!”

“Goodnight, Mick,” she said firmly.

Just at that moment a tall redhead in a short black cocktail dress appeared in Mick’s doorway. 

“There you are, Mick!  We thought you had abandoned us!”

“Not on your life, luv!”  He turned back to Nikita.

“Gotta go!  If you change your mind, you know where we are!”

Nikita smiled and shook her head.  “Thanks, Mick.”

She entered the apartment, locked the door and tossed her keys on the kitchen island.  She went to the refrigerator, opened the door and peered inside.  Only some bottled water and OJ.  She took the carton of OJ and drank greedily.  Having slaked her thirst, she walked toward the couch, kicking her shoes off along the way. She flopped  down on the couch and let her feet dangle over one arm. 

She was physically exhausted, but there was something else.  Confusion, restlessness, longing.  She couldn’t quite put her finger on it.  Her birthday was coming up Sunday, but would anyone remember?  More to the point, would Michael remember?  He seemed to know everything about her.  Was that simply because Section had made her his assignment?  Why did he torment her so much?  One moment he was a tender lover, softly caressing her body, the next a ruthless warrior who was completely worthy of Operations’ highest accolades. 

He should have been an actor, she mused to herself.  As she lay there, she remembered all the little ways Michael had either ignored her or been mean to her the past few weeks.  Sure he had been wrapped up in the Prague mission and after that prepping for the meeting with Federov, but surely that didn’t excuse his total lack of civility.  In frustration, Nikita balled up her fist and struck the back of the couch.  She frowned as she remembered this afternoon’s briefing.  Michael had actually raised his voice to her!  The new operative, Sebastian, had made a comment and Nikita leaned over to catch it. 

“Please concentrate, Ni-ki-ta,” said Michael sternly.  She straightened and glared back at him.  The little exchange was not lost on the other operatives. 

  

After the briefing Nikita had remained at the table.  Several minutes passed.  Finally, she got up and wandered down to Walter’s lair.  He had witnessed the little skirmish between her and Michael.  He looked up from his workbench. 

“Hey, sugar!  I fixed your panel.”  He reached to the shelf behind him. 

“Here you go, good as new.” 

“Thanks, Walter.”  She took the device and stared at it for a moment. 

“Why the long face?” 

“Oh . . . no reason.”  Walter had a soft spot for Nikita and hated to see her upset or worried. 

“Listen, sugar, he’ll come around.  It’s just that Operations has been breathing down his neck and that’s enough to put anybody in a foul mood.”

“Yeah, I know.”  Without realizing it, Nikita began twisting a strand of hair.

“You should go home and take it easy.  This Federov thing could go at any time.” 

Nikita smiled.  “Walter, you should take your own advice.”

“Hey, don’t mind me.  I’ve got a couple more hours of work here.”  Walter grinned.

“Run along now.   You’re keeping an old guy from his work!” 

Nikita leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.  “Walter, you’re the greatest!”    

One little thought, however, brought a smile to her lips.  She actually thought that Michael was jealous of her recent association with Sebastian.  Of course, Madeline had suggested it and Operations had fully concurred.  Just another attempt to drive a wedge between herself and Michael.  Nikita had been told to supervise all aspects of Sebastian’s training and see that he was coming up to Section’s rigid standards.  This meant that they were together all day in Section and then were paired in the field as well.

Several times Nikita had caught Michael watching her as she explained something to Sebastian.  Even though his face registered nothing, she detected a slight flash of anger in those mysterious green eyes of his.  That one thought gave her comfort now.  She lay on the couch for several more minutes.  Her body and mind were beginning to unwind a little.  Finally, with a loud sigh, she heaved herself off the couch. 

***

Michael had gotten out of the car and positioned himself in the shadows.  The evening was pleasant and now as he glanced up he saw Nikita open the French doors and come out onto her small balcony.  His stomach knotted up as he waited to see if anyone followed her.  To his great relief, no one did.

                                  

Instead, she leaned over the railing, watching the traffic and pedestrians below.  She stood there for a few minutes and enjoyed the cool night air as it gently blew her hair.  The city lights twinkled and in the distance she could see the Seine.  Everything was calm and serene.  Everything, that is, except her emotions.

 Finally, she went back in, closed the doors, and turned out the light. Michael exhaled sharply and returned to the car.  He sat there for another twenty minutes deciding on his next move. 

***

Nikita began peeling off her clothes, letting them drop in a pile on the bedroom floor.  She then went into the bathroom and proceeded to fill the large tub with warm water.  As she reached for some scented bubble bath, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.  To her annoyance, she noticed that one of her new hair barettes was missing.  They weren’t expensive, just a little trifle she had bought on her way home one day.  Nevertheless, she was irritated that she had already lost one of them. 

The tub was now full and Nikita carefully eased herself into the frothy mixture. The scent of gardenias filled the bathroom.   Two people could easily fit in here, she thought.   But if Michael were here now, I’d just hold his head under the water!  She let out a snort of laughter. 

She sat still for a few moments as the warm water began to ease her sore muscles.  As she lay back in the tub, she spied a black shirt hanging on the hook behind the door. 

“Oh, Michael, Michael,” she sighed.  She had “borrowed” the shirt after that one night.  It almost seemed as if she had imagined the whole thing.  She had twisted her ankle during a mission and Michael had insisted on taking her home.  Only he had driven to his apartment instead.  Surprisingly, it was only a few miles away.  He had helped her up the stairs and once inside opened a bottle of wine.

 Nikita perched on a barstool while Michael knelt down to examine her ankle.  He unwound the ace bandage and started to massage her foot and ankle.  Those same hands that could break a man’s neck were now tenderly cradling her ankle!  Nikita was both shocked and excited by this new side of Michael.  She closed her eyes tightly.                                                                                                                    The combination of  Michael’s touch and the wine made her feel lightheaded.  As she started to sway forward, Michael quickly stood up and caught her in his arms. 

“Ni-ki-ta!  Open your eyes!”  Her head snapped back.

“I  . . . I don’t know what came over me.”  Michael studied her face intently.  His eyes,

those beautiful green eyes, seemed to burn into her soul.  After a long minute, he leaned in to kiss her.  Softly at first, then with increasing hunger, his tongue quickly darting into her mouth.  Nikita was stunned!  Soon there was more lying on the floor than just the ace bandage. 

Michael’s hands caught the hem of her sweater and whisked it up over her head, leaving her naked to the waist.  Nikita gasped! Michael smiled in appreciation of her beauty.  She retaliated by pushing his jacket off his shoulders and then began frantically clawing at the buttons on the black silk shirt he wore.  The same shirt that now hung in her bathroom.  Once the offending clothes were cast aside, Michael had swept her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom.   

Was this some sort of “Valentine” test that Madeline had demanded of him, or was this a  true expression of his feelings?  Nikita didn’t know and was beyond caring at this point.  She simply vowed to make the most of this golden opportunity.  What followed became a blur of kissing, touching, exploration.  Intense feelings, too long suppressed, now erupted into a cataclysmic expression of complete release.  Nikita’s last lucid thought had been that she would fall blissfully asleep in Michael’s strong arms… 

Even now it gave her goosebumps to recall it.  She shifted her position in the tub and blew a handful of bubbles into the room.   Enough reminiscing.  She decided it was time to get out.  Either that or risk turning into a prune!  She stepped out and began drying off.  After hanging up the towel, she reached for the shirt.  She loved the fact that this sensuous fabric had touched Michael’s body and would now touch hers.  She slipped her arms into it, buttoned a couple of buttons and crawled into bed.

Sleep had quickly overtaken her, but now she suddenly sat up in bed.  There was a persistent knocking at the front door. 

“I’m gonna kill you, Mick” she mumbled.  No doubt he was back for more ice or glasses.  She walked to the door and looked through the peephole.  To her astonishment, she saw Michael on the other side.  She stepped back and became aware of her heart pounding in her chest. 

What could he possibly want?!, she thought.  As she stood there gathering her thoughts, he knocked again.  If she didn’t answer she knew he would simply use his key.  Taking a deep breath, she opened the door. 

“Michael!”

His green eyes quickly took in her appearance, then looked beyond her into the apartment. 

“Is there a problem?” 

He noted that she was wearing a black silk shirt.  His shirt, to be precise.    She must have taken it from his apartment that night several months ago.  The corners of his mouth turned up slightly.  

“Are you amused by something?” 

At that moment Mick’s door opened and beautiful people began to spill out into the hall. 

“Ah, the lovebirds!”   Mick gushed as he observed Michael and Nikita standing there.  “It’s not too late to join us!”

Nikita shot him a “drop dead” look.

“Right.  Well, we’re off to Club Zanadu!  Cheerio!”   He glided toward the elevator where his entourage awaited him.

Michael waited until the elevator had swallowed up the revelers before answering. 

“I wanted to make sure your leg was OK.” 

“My leg?”  she echoed.  “Oh, yeah, it’s fine.  Just a big bruise there.”   Nikita smiled and lightly patted her right thigh. 

“I’m glad.”

“How did you know about that?”  Silly question, she realized.  Michael knew things she wouldn’t even have thought of. 

“I was observing your class.”    Nikita had been helping in the self-defense class when one of the new recruits had been a little too forceful with his kicks. 

“Oh, I didn’t notice you.”  This is too weird, she thought. 

“Wanna come in?”  Nikita opened the door wider.

Michael looked over her shoulder into the apartment again before his gaze returned to her face. 

“It’s late.  You should get some rest.”   He then reached out and took her right hand in his left.  With his right hand he withdrew a small object from his pocket and placed it in her hand.  It was her missing barette.  Nikita felt herself starting to blush. 

“Where did you find it?”

Without replying, Michael closed her fingers over the barette and brought her hand up to his lips.  An electric shock surged through Nikita as he lightly brushed his lips across her knuckles. 

“Goodnight, Ni-ki-ta.”    He dropped her hand, turned and started to walk away. 

Anxious to detain him she called out, “Would you like some coffee?” 

Michael hesitated and turned slightly.  He knew if he went back he would not want to leave. 

“No . . . merci.” 

Nikita closed the door and leaned heavily against it.  A loud sigh escaped from her lips.  What had just happened here?  The man she both loved and hated had succeeded in stirring up all manner of emotions in her.  She smiled to herself as she realized that Michael was checking to see if she was alone.  He had recognized his shirt and was evidently pleased to see her wearing it. The way his eyes had swept over her she might as well have been naked.   And her leg.  Well, he could have just picked up the phone if he had wanted to inquire about her health! 

She looked again at the barette in her hand.  “If I live to be a hundred I’ll never understand that man,” she said, shaking her head.  With that, she turned off the light and went back to bed.  

Returning to his apartment Michael, too, felt a myriad of emotions.  Fatigue, relief, anticipation.  So she’s not seeing Sebastian, he thought. The relief he felt was like Atlas lifting the world off his shoulders.  Only when he was alone could Michael admit to himself that Nikita was his weakness.  His weakness and his desire.  It was torture to

have to work so closely with her and not be able to fully express his feelings.  But it was even worse to lie awake at night longing to touch her, hold her, make her feel secure. 

He didn’t know why he was so worried.  It was a well-known, yet unspoken, fact in Section that he had more than a professional interest in Nikita.  Everyone had seen his lethal martial arts skills used on hostiles and no other operative would dare to make a move on Nikita.  But this Sebastian was new and a somewhat unknown quantity. 

Michael cursed himself for being jealous .  That, too, was a weakness and Section was very intolerant of such things.  However, tonight he was not thinking like a Level 5  operative, but like an ordinary man.

Michael couldn’t really explain his feelings.  He only knew that he wanted this woman, more than he had ever wanted anyone or anything before.  It was more than a want.  He needed to possess her completely, soul and body. 

 

***

It was almost noon before Nikita awoke.  She threw on some jeans and a bulky sweater and set out to do her errands. 

Yes, even Section One operatives have weekend chores, she thought. 

She returned after several hours.   Just as she entered the apartment, her cell phone rang.

“Josephine.”  That soft, dangerous voice.

“Be right there,” she answered. 

“Dress appropriately,” the quiet voice commanded.  Nikita did not respond.  Her cover was to be a businesswoman in the high-tech community.

At least I finished my errands, she thought.  She had been to the market, dry cleaners, a dress shop and finally, a coffee bar.  Without her knowledge, Michael had shadowed her every move. 

She quickly stashed the food.  The dry cleaning was left lying across the island. 

Twenty minutes later Michael picked her up at the newsstand a couple of blocks from  her apartment. He was dressed in his usual sleek, black clothes.   He smoothly maneuvered the black BMW into the afternoon traffic heading out of the city. 

“Michael, where are we going?  The meeting with Federov is supposed to be downtown.” 

“There’s been a change.  Birkoff received new intel last night that indicated Federov is moving his operation out of the city.” 

 “So, what’s the plan?”  She waited for more details.  There was a long silence, so typical of Michael.  She fixed a piercing stare on him.  Finally, he spoke.

“Why don’t you just relax and close your eyes.  We’ll be at our destination in less than an hour.”  She frowned slightly. 

“Whatever you say, Michael.”  With a grunt she settled back in the soft leather seat and closed her eyes.  She had learned long ago that if Michael did not want to reveal anything, there was no point in persisting. 

They were now well outside the city center, surrounded by open farmland.  In the distance there were some cottages and grazing cattle.  There was very little traffic and Michael was able to steal a glance at Nikita.  Her head had rolled to the right and she appeared to be asleep.

Maybe she’s just pretending, he thought.  At any rate, he was able to assess her appearance:  grey pinstriped suit, white blouse, grey spike heels, small rectangular glasses, hair pulled back in a bun.  The skirt came below her knees, but there was a long slit up the left side which revealed her firm thigh.  Michael longed, ached in fact, to reach over and touch her, but he knew he should keep his eyes on the road. 

***

Almost an hour had passed and Michael now pulled to a stop in front of a small store.  Nikita sat up with a jerk.

“Are we there yet?”

“Wait here,” he ordered.

“Whatever!” she huffed.

While Michael was inside he could observe Nikita through the window.  She had gotten out of the car and was making quite a spectacle of removing her jacket and stretching her back.  To his horror, he saw that she was wearing a black lace bra under the tight-fitting sheer white blouse.  A young man who had been filling up his motorcycle now started walking toward Nikita. 

Michael quickly paid for his purchases.  He excused himself from the elderly clerk who was trying to engage him in conversation.  As he approached the car Nikita was laughing at a comment from the man.  Michael glared at her with his best Section face, but said nothing.

“Nice talking to you!” she said as the man roared off.  She flung the jacket over one shoulder as she watched Michael put the bag in the trunk.

 “Are we going to make dinner for Federov?”  she asked in a sarcastic tone.

Michael ignored her question and got back in the car.  He knew she was trying to provoke a reaction from him, and damn it, it was working!

“We only have about five kilometers to go.”  Nikita stared out the window.  She was getting a strange feeling about this whole situation.

After a few moments Michael spoke.  “Was that absolutely necessary?”

Nikita flashed a coy smile.  “Was what necessary?”  She loved flirting with other men in front of Michael. 

“Your performance in front of the store.”

She began arching her back again, pushing out her breasts. 

“Ooh, we’ve been driving forever and my back is stiff.  Maybe if you’d tell me what’s going on I could …hmm…modify my behavior.”

Michael made no comment.  He was turning off the main road and heading toward a stone cottage in the distance.  As they pulled up, Nikita was struck by the profusion of rose bushes surrounding the cottage.  Their varied colors resembled an artist’s palette – red, yellow, pink, white.  As she emerged from the car their fragrance filled her nostrils. 

Sure, this is a beautiful place, but he still hasn’t explained why we’re here, she inwardly fumed.  She was tired, her new shoes were pinching her feet and she was annoyed with Michael for keeping her in the dark, again.  She was determined to get some answers. 

Once inside the kitchen, Nikita could stand it no longer.  She removed her glasses and laid them on the table.

“We’re not on a mission, are we?”

“Why do you say that?”  Michael was putting the groceries away. 

“Gut feeling.  Maybe this is some sort of game that Section is playing with me.  Perhaps another test of my loyalty.” Nikita’s frustration was boiling over.  She stepped closer to Michael and raised her voice.  

“Well, you know what?  I’m tired of all these games and lies!  And I’m tired of you, Michael!  You pretend to care about me and then you act like I don’t exist.  What is your problem?!”

Michael, the master of self-control, had finally had enough!  In one lightning-fast move he gripped Nikita’s shoulders and slammed her up against the wall.  Her whole body stiffened.

 “Everything I do is to protect you . . .keep you alive.”  His voice was low and menacing. 

Anger and lust burned in his eyes. 

“Why bother?  Operations is always looking for a reason to cancel me.”  She spat out the words with venom. 

“Because . . .you are mine!”

“I don’t believe you! It’s just another one of your lies for Section!” she hissed.  

Michael moved in, pressing his hips against Nikita’s.  His mouth came down on hers before she could utter a protest. It was a raw, passionate kiss.  Her brain wanted to scream and object, but her body desperately wanted to feel his hands and mouth all over her!

Now his lips were moving down her neck.  His left arm slid down around her slim waist while his right hand fumbled in her hair, trying to release it from the clasp.   Nikita’s body relaxed and she brought her hands up around Michael’s neck.  Her anger had suddenly dissipated.  All she wanted now was to experience Michael again!      

 “Michael. . .Michael,” she murmured softly as he nibbled on her ear.  The clasp that held her hair clattered to the floor.   

“I’m yours,  Michael!”  He kissed her again on the mouth.  Finally, Nikita surrendered and parted her lips.   Michael hesitated a moment, then slipped his tongue in.  Nikita’s knees suddenly felt like jello.  She sagged against his well-muscled chest.

“I’ll prove to you this isn’t a lie!”  he growled in her ear.  Then he gathered her up in his arms and carried her through the living room to the small bedroom beyond. He wanted to make her wild with desire, wanted her to scream his name in her ecstasy.  

He carefully lowered her onto the bed.  Nikita struggled to sit up.

“No, cherie, this is the only truth you need to know,” he said as he gently pushed her back down.

“You have always been mine and only mine. . .your body, your heart, your soul.  When I’m finished, you’ll never even think about another man.” 

For probably the first time in her life, Nikita had no sassy retort, nor did she offer any  resistance as Michael began unbuttoning her blouse. 

***                                                      

 After several hours Nikita awoke.  She turned her head slightly and saw Michael crouched in front of the fireplace.  The flame jumped up and began consuming the wood.                                                              

Michael stood up and replaced the poker in its stand.  Nikita was able to admire him from behind.  An image of Michelangelo’s David came to mind – lean, taut muscles, the perfect male example.  But marble was cold and unresponsive.  Michael had just proven that he was the exact opposite!  She tried to stifle a yawn, but Michael heard her and turned.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“What time is it?”  she asked lazily.

“Early.  Let’s go back to sleep.”

Nikita lifted the covers and he crawled back in, kissing her lightly.

“Turn over,” he prodded.

Nikita turned to her right side and Michael molded his body to hers, spoon-fashion, and wrapped his arm around her waist.

 

“Hmm . . . a perfect fit!” he whispered into her hair.  Nikita fell back into a deep sleep, secure in Michael’s love. 

***

                                                                 

Nikita rolled onto her side and instinctively reached out for Michael.  Much to her dismay, the other side of the bed was cold and empty.  All at once, she became aware of the smell of cooking.  She yawned and stretched her arms over her head.  She smiled at the thought of Michael preparing breakfast. 

She sat up and looked around the room.  It really happened, I didn’t just dream it! she thought as she saw their clothes flung everywhere.  She got up and pulled the sheet off the bed.  She decided to make herself a toga since she had no robe to put on.  

She crossed the living room and entered the kitchen.  Michael was wearing jeans, but was shirtless and barefoot.  He was humming as he stood at the stove. A dish towel was thrown over his left shoulder.  He turned and smiled when he heard Nikita come in.        

“I don’t seem to have anything to wear,” she said sheepishly. 

 “Is that a problem?”  Michael grinned as he observed her attire.

Nikita laughed.  “No, I suppose not!” 

As he turned back to the stove she was embarrassed to see the scratches. 

“Your back!  I’m sorry!”  she said as she reached out to touch him.

“I’m not!”  He laid the spatula down and took her into his arms, kissing her deeply.    

“Are you hungry?” he inquired.  Nikita winked at him. 

“I mean for food?!”  She looked over at the omelet in the skillet. 

“Famished!” 

“Sit,” he ordered.

Nikita eagerly dug into the omelet.  There was also coffee, orange juice and fresh strawberries.  After a few moments, she laid down her fork.

“You still haven’t told me what we’re doing out here in the middle of nowhere.”

A wicked smile spread over Michael’s face.

“Wasn’t that obvious last night?!”

Nikita smiled in spite of herself.  “I’m serious, Michael.  What about the meeting with Federov?”

Michael reverted to his usual business demeanor for a moment.

“The intel suggests that he’ll wait a few days before making another contact.”

“Then why the charade of going on a mission?”

Michael considered his response. 

“I wanted us to have some time together away from Section . . . away from everything,” he said quietly.

“And . . . I know that today is your birthday.”

Nikita’s eyes grew wide.  This man never ceased to amaze her!

“You didn’t think I would remember, did you?” 

She looked down and shook her head.  Michael reached over and lifted her chin.  His eyes were full of tenderness. 

“I never forget anything about you, cherie.”

She looked into his eyes for a long moment and he held her gaze.  In her heart she knew he was being completely honest with her.  She smiled. 

“Aren’t you going to eat?  It’s delicious.”

“I was rather enjoying watching you!”

           

                             

After they finished eating, they took their coffee into the living room.  Michael built a fire in the huge stone fireplace and then went over to the antique oak desk in the corner.  Unlocking it, he withdrew a small square box wrapped in pale blue paper.

He came over to where Nikita was sitting on the overstuffed sofa and presented it to her. 

She had a sudden, painful flashback to another time when he had given her a present.

As if reading her mind he quickly said, “It’s nothing like that. . .it really is a birthday present.”  She looked at him and with trembling hands began to unwrap the box.

“Oh, Michael . . .it’s beautiful!”  No gun this time.  Instead, she found an ornately carved wooden music box.  She lifted the top and the melody began. 

“It’s wonderful.  Thank you, Michael!  Where did you find it?”

Michael smiled.  “In Berlin a couple of months ago.  Do you know what this music is? It’s a waltz. . .The Skaters.”

Nikita smiled as she ran her finger over the wood.  “I’ve never been ice-skating.  Would you take me sometime?” 

“Avec plaisir, cherie!”

She put the music box on the coffee table and leaned over to kiss Michael.  Her makeshift toga was threatening to unravel.  Michael observed her dilemma with amusement.  He took her hands and pulled her to her feet.  With a swift yank that caught her off guard, the sheet cascaded to the floor.  

“You evil man!” she gasped.

“Let’s see who’s evil now!” he laughed as he pulled her down onto the rug before the fireplace.  There followed a repeat of the previous night’s activities, but this time it was slow and leisurely lovemaking.

After some time, they fell asleep before the crackling fire.  Michael didn’t know how long they had lain there, but he was brought sharply back to reality when his cell phone rang.

“Yes, Birkoff?”  He listened intently for a few minutes.  “OK,  I’ll check it out.”

“What is it, Michael?”

“One of my contacts has been trying to reach me on a secured channel.  He’s about 30 km from here.” 

“Let me go with you.  You might need another pair of eyes.”

“No, I want you to stay here.”  He drew her up into his arms and kissed her deeply.

“I’m sorry this has to intrude on our time together.”  Releasing her, he reached for his jacket behind the door. 

“You’ll find some clothes in the garment bag,” and then he was gone.

   

Nikita stood at the window a long time after Michael drove off.  She felt utterly abandoned.  She should have known that anything this good could not last.  After all, Section was their master and that would never change.  Presently, she roused herself from these morbid thoughts and went to take a shower. 

She was surprised to find her favorite bath gel in the medicine cabinet.  She was even more surprised when she unzipped the garment bag.  It was as if she had packed the bag.  Here were her jeans, a couple of sweaters, and hiking boots.  But now she found items that made her jaw drop:  some satin and lace bra and panty sets, an ice-blue satin sleep shirt, and the expensive navy cocktail dress she had tried on yesterday!  She had debated whether or not to buy it, eventually deciding she really didn’t need it. 

Nikita sat down on the bed in a state of shock.  Michael had obviously followed her and at some point gone to her apartment to collect her clothes. 

“Why that devil!” she said aloud.  “He planned this whole thing!”  She began laughing hysterically and fell back on the bed. 

After she got dressed Nikita decided to investigate her surroundings.  She hadn’t noticed much last night because her mind had been elsewhere!  Michael must come here often for there were jeans and wool shirts in the armoire. 

Back in the living room she inspected the built-in bookcase.  There were biographies, military histories, and what struck Nikita as unusual, numerous books about painting and gardening.  Then she remembered the roses out front.  Had Michael planted and tended those?  Maybe this was how he relaxed when he was away from Section. Was this who he really was?  Little by little she felt she was gaining insight into her enigmatic lover. 

What drew her to this man?  It was more than just their powerful, physical union.  It was something deeper, more primal, the spiritual and emotional joining of two basically wild souls to form one complete, peaceful one. 

There was no other way to explain it.  She needed him, she wanted him, damn the consequences!  And surely they would have to pay for this brief, idyllic time together.  But that was sometime in the future.  For now she would give herself up to all the sensual and emotional pleasures of being with Michael.

With nothing better to do, Nikita started rummaging through the oak desk.  At first, she found the usual items – pens, stationery, stamps, receipts for work done on the cottage.  Then she came across two sketchbooks. 

I didn’t realize Michael was an artist, she thought as she flipped through the pages.  There were several drawings of the cottage and surrounding land from different perspectives, followed by some of Adam.   On page after page of the second book she found her likeness staring back at her. In some her hair was down, in others it was pulled back or up. But what stunned Nikita was the way he had looked into her soul and captured her different moods.  Some of the drawings showed her to be angry and defiant, while others pictured her sad and reflective.

She noted the dates at the bottom of each.  The first was only a few weeks after she had been brought into Section.  Tears began to form behind her eyes when she realized that the majority were done during the six months she was on the outside, trying to evade Section, trying to be “free.”  But, in fact, she had not been free because her heart and soul desperately yearned for Michael.

Quietly she closed the books and returned them to the desk.  She needed to do something to take her mind off those sad memories.  She wandered into the kitchen and saw the rose bushes through the window.  Picking up a knife from the counter, she went outside and began cutting.  She made several trips back into the house with bunches of roses.  She stuck them in glasses, jars, whatever was available, and filled the cottage until it resembled a florist’s shop.

***  

Michael had been gone the better part of the day.  The sun had set a short while ago and the evening was beginning to cool down.  Nikita tried not to worry, thinking “no news was good news,” but she was anxious for his return.  Several times during the afternoon she had been tempted to call his cell phone.  However, her Section training told her that that might compromise him in some way.  So she waited.  Finally, she called Birkoff.

“Have you heard from Michael, Birkoff?”

“What do you mean?  Isn’t he with you?”

“No, he hasn’t returned from the meet.  It’s been hours now.”

“He hasn’t contacted us and Operations has already left for the night.  If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.  And Nikita . . .”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t worry, he can take care of himself.”

“I know.  Thanks, Birkoff.”  She put the phone down.  Yeah, but I would just die if something happened to him now, she thought, remembering all that had transpired in the last 24 hours, both the spoken and the unspoken.     

Nikita sighed and went into the bathroom.  She showered and put on the satiny night shirt that Michael had bought her.  She smiled when she realized it was the same color as her eyes.  She didn’t want to sleep alone in the queen-size bed so she returned to the living room and stretched out on the sofa, pulling a crocheted afghan over her.  Her cell phone was on the coffee table and, just in case, she laid her gun on the floor.  There was nothing to do but wait. 

This was how Michael found her when he came in thirty minutes later.  He had been pleasantly surprised when he opened the door and saw the roses everywhere.  Their heavenly fragrance filled the cottage.

He walked to the sofa and gently touched Nikita’s cheek.  “Ah, my sleeping beauty!” he murmured.  She awoke instantly and leapt up, throwing her arms around his neck. 

“Michael, thank goodness you’re back! I was so worried about you!”  He pulled her close and they engaged in a lingering kiss.

“Maybe I should go away more often!”

“What did you find out?  Did you see Federov?”  He proceeded to explain how his contact had spotted the computer magnate setting up a new base of operations at an abandoned airstrip east of the village. 

“I spoke to Operations and he wants us to stay in the area a few days to see if Federov is ready to close the deal.” 

She pulled back from him.  “You must be starving.  Do you want a sandwich or I could scramble some eggs?  You know I’m not much of a cook.”

Michael smiled tenderly.  “A sandwich would be great. . .merci.”

“Ok, while I’m doing that you can get cleaned up.”  She pushed him toward the bathroom.

***

They were on the sofa with Nikita lying back against Michael’s chest.  The fire was burning low.  Nikita was feeling deliciously drowsy.  Michael was back safely and had her enfolded in his strong arms.  Neither had spoken for several minutes, being absorbed in their own thoughts.  Now Michael broke the silence.

“Ni-ki-ta, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, that’s ok.  We’re never really off-duty, are we?” she said, thinking he was referring to his long absence today. 

He tightened his grip on her arms.  “I mean I’m sorry for everything.  All the lies, the deceptions, all the things I couldn’t tell you. . .even when I wanted to.  I know I’ve hurt you so many times. . .”

Nikita twisted free from his arms and slid onto the floor beside the sofa.  Kneeling, she looked up at Michael, the only man she had ever loved, and saw his pained expression. She took his hands in hers. 

“Michael, I know that Section made you do it.  You had no choice, not if you wanted to stay alive.  I understand so many things now. . .why you acted the way you did, why you said certain things.  It was to protect me. . .only I didn’t realize it at the time.”  She paused, remembering all the times she had hated him, cursed him, even wished him dead for his apparent lack of concern. 

Michael looked beyond Nikita into the flickering firelight.  “Yes, I did it to save you. . save us, but I should have been more honest with you. I’m not proud of the things I’ve done. I thought the only way I could love you was by protecting you.”  His eyes returned to his beloved’s face. 

“Can you ever forgive me?”  His eyes pleaded with her.  Nikita brought his hands to her mouth and kissed them. 

“Just knowing that you did those things to protect me makes me love you even more!”  The tension suddenly drained from Michael’s face and he smiled.

“Merci, Ni-ki-ta. . .merci.”  With that, Nikita snuggled back into his arms.  They enjoyed the companionable silence, each feeling vindicated by the other’s honesty. 

It felt so good for Michael to have his Nikita in his arms.  They had finally said those things which should have been said long ago.  He pulled her hair back and began kissing her neck and shoulder.  Then he ran his hands down her arms and began caressing her fingers. 

“Come on.  Let’s go to bed!”  he urged.

“But I’m wide awake now,” she protested. 

“Did I say anything about sleeping?!” he asked as he pulled her off the couch.

She gave him pouty look.  “Am I under orders to please you?”

“Absolument!” he replied as he drew her into the bedroom. 

After a good night’s sleep, among other things, Michael and Nikita spent the next day relaxing and puttering around the cottage.  Michael told her how he had bought the cottage last year and began fixing it up.  Whenever he had down time he would come here to draw and work on his roses.  He told her how his mother and grandmother had been master gardeners, even winning prizes at flower shows. 

“I wanted a place where we could relax and feel safe.”

“We?”  Nikita’s eyebrows arched up.

“Yes, cherie. . .you and I.  Did you think I was talking about another woman?!”

“Does Section know about this?” 

“No, there are some things even Section doesn’t know.”

“Well, I love it here.  I wish we could stay forever,” Nikita said wistfully.

“Come.  I need your help with something.”  Michael pulled her out the kitchen door and pointed to the rose bushes. 

“We’re going to move some of these around to the other side.”  So they spent the next few hours pruning, snipping, and generally tidying up the flowerbeds.  After that they made some sandwiches and took a picnic lunch into the woods.  They spread a blanket under a huge oak tree and ate their fill.  There were wildflowers in abundance and a small stream nearby.  The afternoon was hot and still.  After eating, they stretched out on the blanket and soon fell asleep, Nikita’s head resting on Michael’s chest.  

After a couple of hours they awoke and went back to the cottage.  Michael set about repairing some broken latches on the shutters while Nikita cleaned up the kitchen.  All in all, it had been a very pleasant day.  They were doing things that a normal couple would do.

Finally, Michael came in and put away his tools.  “Perhaps you’d like to change for dinner. We’re going into the village tonight.  But first I need to check-in with Birkoff.”

Nikita got in the shower, hoping Michael would join her, but when she came out she could still hear him on the phone. By the time he finished his conversation, Nikita was already dressed.  When he came into the bedroom his eyes slowly scanned her from head to toe and back up again.  He smiled broadly and motioned for her to turn around. 

“Very nice,” he said.  “Very nice, indeed!”  Nikita blushed. 

“Oh, Michael, this was way too expensive.  You really shouldn’t have bought it.”

“But you like it, oui?”

“Of course, I love it!  Thank you!”  She stepped closer and kissed him.

“It’s a shame we have to go out tonight!” she whispered in his ear.  He laughed and pushed her away. 

“Go on.  I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”  Reluctantly, Nikita went into the living room and switched on the CD player.  A woman was singing in French.  She could pick out some words here and there.  Something about lost love.  She became so wrapped up in the music that she didn’t notice when Michael walked in.  The sight of him took her breath away.  He was gorgeous in his dark formal suit and crisp white shirt.  His hair was still slightly damp and curling below his collar.  His green eyes blazed at her.

“There’s one thing before we go. . .”  He withdrew a velvet ring box from his pocket.  It opened to reveal a platinum band.  Nikita stared at it open-mouthed and suddenly felt wobbly.  She reached behind her to the arm of the sofa and sat down. 

Michael was both pleased and amused by her reaction.  He sat down beside her. 

“Our lives are so uncertain, but one thing I am certain of is that I love you, Ni-ki-ta. At first I didn’t want to admit it, even to myself, but when I thought I’d lost you, I nearly went out of my mind.” 

He took the ring out of the box.  “You see this engraving?  It’s Latin, a quote from the Bible.” 

Nikita reached out and gingerly touched the ring.  “What does it say?”

“I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine.’  From Song of Solomon.”  He took her left hand and slipped the ring on.  “I give you this as a symbol of my love and commitment.” 

A single tear ran down Nikita’s cheek.  Michael leaned over and kissed it away.

“I love you, Michael.  I think I knew it from that first time I saw you in the White Room.  You scared the living daylights out of me, but at the same time I felt drawn to you.  I can’t explain it. . .”

Michael put his finger on her lips.  “You don’t have to explain anything.  Just promise that you will always love me.”

“I do promise, with all my heart.”

 

***

     

  They drove into the village to a small inn off the main square.  

“Ah, Monsieur Samuelle, bonsoir!”

“Bonsoir, Claude.  This is Ni-ki-ta.”  The older gentleman bowed slightly.  “Enchante, mademoiselle.”

Claude smiled as he led them to their table.  It did his old heart good to see M. Samuelle with such a lovely companion.  He recalled that in the past Michael had always dined alone and seemed rather sad or lost.

Michael spoke to Claude rapidly in French and a short time later their dinner and wine arrived.  Nikita kept turning her hand and admiring the ring.  Every time she looked up Michael was gazing at her and smiling.  Her thoughts were in a jumble after his declaration of love, something she had waited so long to hear.  She hardly realized what kind of food she was eating. 

After they finished eating, Michael began caressing her hands. His eyes never left her face.  But now one hand was slowly moving up her thigh.   

“Michael! Can’t you wait until we get back to the cottage?!”   Nikita tried to sound shocked, but in reality her pulse was racing and she was as eager as he was.

“Actually, no!  We could stay here tonight.  Would you like that?”

“That would be wonderful,” she said as she tried to remove his hand. 

“Good.  I’ll just speak to Claude.” 

A few moments later they found themselves upstairs heading toward a room at the back of the inn.  The door had barely closed behind them when Michael enfolded her in his arms and claimed her mouth.  Meanwhile, his hands slid around to her back and started unzipping her dress.  He pushed it off her shoulders and it dropped to the floor. She stepped backward out of it and kicked off her sandals.

Michael was unbuttoning his shirt, having already shrugged off his jacket.  Nikita’s eager hands went to his belt and then his zipper. Michael then moved her toward the bed and gently pushed her down.      

Now he began his slow, delicious torture.  It was like he had never touched her before and wanted to explore every inch.   He coaxed responses from her body that Nikita wouldn’t have thought possible.  Her whole being sprang to life under his incredible touch. Kneeling over her, he tasted her soft skin starting at her throat, then moving to breasts, navel, abdomen, and continuing downward.  Nikita’s hands tangled in his long, silky hair as she squirmed beneath him. 

“Michael . . .yes, Michael,” she quietly moaned. 

Michael paused temporarily and looked up at Nikita.  Her eyes were closed.

“Ni-ki-ta!  Look at me!”  She opened her eyes and then grabbed his shoulders, rolling them over.

“Now it’s my turn!” she laughed.  She began paying Michael back, stroke for stroke. Her blonde hair fell across his chest as she flicked her tongue over his nipples.

He clutched at the sheets as her tongue continued assaulting him.  “Ni-ki-ta,  please!” he panted.

As she came back up to his mouth, he suddenly flipped her onto her back once more. He took her mouth in a searing kiss, almost suffocating her. 

He continued his tantalizing exploration of her.  With his left hand he held her wrists captive over her head.  His mouth moved down to encircle a nipple.  His right hand was occupied elsewhere. 

“Now, ma petite?!”  he teased.

“Yes, yes, now!” she begged.

He laughed.  “Not yet!”  He moved to taste the other nipple. 

Nikita was on the brink, thrashing relentlessly.  “Ooooh, hurry Michael. . .please!!”

“Now, ma cherie?”  Michael inquired softly as he released her wrists.  

“Yes, oh Michael, now!”  She brought her arms up around his muscular back and began raking her nails across. 

“Oh, Mi - chael . . . yes, yes, yes!”

Michael, too, lost himself in the moment.  He laid his head on her breast and murmured,

“Je t’aime, Ni-ki-ta. . .je t’aime.”  Nikita didn’t know much of his native language, but those few words needed no translation. 

They made love over and over that night, never tiring, always marveling in each other and their newfound sense of completeness and hope.

The next morning as they were driving back to the cottage, the call came.  Federov was finally ready to do business.  All thoughts of the previous night were pushed aside.  Once back in the cottage, Michael opened his laptop on the kitchen table and got to work.  Nikita checked with Birkoff and Operations for any last minute instructions.  The back-up team was in place.

At 3 p.m. they left for the meeting.  As she started to exit the car Michael said, “Ni-ki-ta, please keep your jacket on today.”  She responded by sticking out her tongue!

Everything went according to profile. By early evening they were back in the cottage.

 Nikita was standing in the doorway watching the sun as it slowly slid below the horizon.  Michael turned off his cell phone and quietly came up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist.  She leaned back into his embrace.

 “Have you enjoyed these few days?” he whispered.

 “Hmm . . . very much so!”

In the silence Michael began nuzzling her neck.  After a few moments Nikita broke the spell. 

“Michael, what would you like for your birthday?” 

“Let me think.”  He moved his hands lower and flattened the palms against her abdomen.

“A sibling for Adam.”

“Oooh ,”  Nikita purred contentedly.  She tried to squirm loose, but Michael held her tightly against himself.  He leaned in close to her right ear.

“I think we should get started!” 

***

                                                        

Back in Section

Just as he was rounding the corner, Walter caught sight of Michael and Nikita talking at the far end of the hall.  He quickly stepped behind a column so as not to disturb them.  When he peeked out again, he saw Michael lean in to whisper in her ear.  His left hand playfully reached around and squeezed her behind. 

Walter quietly chuckled.  He was glad to see two of his favorite people back on the right track. 

* 2001 *