| Subject: Kiss and Make Up - The End |
Author:
Genevieve
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Date Posted: 01:33:30 12/26/01 Wed
In reply to:
Genevieve
's message, "More Kiss and Make Up - Revised, but still as naughty..." on 19:35:32 12/18/01 Tue
December 25th
Nikita twitched her toes against the something that was brushing against her foot annoyingly, her mind still anchored firmly in sleep. Foot is cold, her brain complained as Nikita burrowed deeper beneath the feather eiderdown.
Michael watched her intently, grinning as he saw a small frown appear between her eyebrows. She will never, ever be a morning person. He had learned the hard way that it was not a good idea to wake her up too abruptly. Which is why he was now sitting at the edge of the bed, stroking the soft sole of her foot with his fingertips. He had seen her toes poking out from underneath the covers, and hadn't been able to resist. She finally came awake, turning onto her back in surprise as she saw him.
He's here. Happiness bubbled up in her chest at the sight of him, and all she could do was beam at him, speechless with surprise.
"Good morning." Michael smiled down at her as she blinked sleepily up at him.
A dozen questions shot through her sleep-fuddled brain, and it pounced on the most pressing one. "What are you doing here?"
He raised his eyebrows at her, pretending to be offended. "Merry Christmas to you, too."
Nikita grinned at him and raised her face for a kiss. He obliged immediately, so thoroughly that within seconds they were both breathless. Coming up for air, Nikita reached up a hand to caress his face and whispered back, "Merry Christmas, Michael." Leaning down, he pressed his cheek against hers, the warm rough texture of his stubbled jaw sending a shiver of goosebumps all over her body, despite the warmth of her Christmas pyjamas.
Over his shoulder, Nikita glanced around her room. He'd lit all her candles again. She looked towards her window. Pitch black outside.
"Michael, it wouldn't happen to be incredibly early in the morning, would it?" Michael only smiled again, moving slightly so he was blocking her view of the alarm clock. Nikita narrowed her eyes at him before grabbing hold of his wrist, pulling it towards her face so that she could see his watch.
Nikita flopped back onto the bed, a hand over her eyes. "Michael! It's not even five a.m. yet!" She took her hand away to peer at him. "You look exhausted, what on earth are you doing here this early? I thought you had to be in Section today."
"I was." Nikita stared at him in surprise. "I've been at Section for a few hours already this morning. I reviewed every potentially hostile situation on board. There doesn't seem to be a lot happening at the moment." He gave her a wry smile, one hand reaching down to brush the hair back from her face.
"Did you know that during World War One, the English and German armies that were stationed in France called a ceasefire on Christmas Day and played football in No Man's Land?"
Nikita grinned at him. "I do recall Sister Margaret trying to drill such a fact into my head when I was in the ninth grade."
Michael's eyes widened slightly at the mention of Sister Margaret, but he carried on. "It seems as though some things in this life are consistent. No terrorist activity, no political unrest. At least, none that our sources are picking up." He stretched out beside her on the bed on top of the covers, his head on her spare pillow. His pillow.
"So ..." He paused for a moment, loving the look of delighted anticipation that had flooded Nikita's face.
Exasperating man. "So ...?" Nikita prompted him, digging her fingers into his side, just under the ribcage. She smiled in satisfaction as he jumped and grabbed hold of her hand. Should never have let me know you were ticklish there, buddy.
"So ... I'm all yours all day today." His voice sounded tired.
"Really...all mine, all day." Eyes closed, Nikita reached out a hand to touch his hair, pulling lightly on the longer curls that brushed his collar. "And just what should I do with you, all day today? Hmmm?"
No answer.
"Michael?" A soft snore was her only answer. She propped herself up on her elbows to be greeted by the sight of Michael, fully dressed with his shoes on, fast asleep on the top of the covers.
~*~*~*~
"You bought me my own copy of The Pillow Book?" She beamed at him, a wide grin of delight curving her mouth.
"Hmmm. I was getting a bit tired of paying the late fees, and I have the feeling that the video store clerk was beginning to believe that I was some sort of pervert."
They were sitting cross-legged on the floor in Nikita's living room, surrounded by the remains of a late breakfast and shredded wrapping paper. Nikita hadn't bothered to change out of her pyjamas, but she'd managed to find one of Michael's clean t-shirts in her laundry basket for him to wear with his jeans.
She couldn't quite get over the fact that they were having this time together, and found herself sneaking quick peeks at Michael when she thought he wasn't looking, as though to reassure herself that he was actually there.
Michael looked up and saw her staring at him. Smiling at her, he was surprised at the flush of colour that suffused her face, as though he'd caught her doing something she shouldn't be doing. He let his eyes roam over her, his mouth twitching at what Nikita was wearing. She looked as though she'd just come off the set of a movie set in the 1950's, sitting cross-legged in hot pink pyjamas that had a pattern of red hibiscus flowers rioting all over them.
He met her eyes and found her gazing at him once again. "What are you looking at? Do I have crumbs on my chin?" He brushed his fingers across his mouth.
Nikita flashed him a brilliant smile and eased herself up from her sitting position. She slowly prowled towards him across the field of ripped wrapping paper on her hands and knees, eyes locked on his.
"I'm not sure. I'd better check, hmmm?" Michael swallowed hard as she stopped in front of him, her face only a breath away from his. He watched as her gaze caressed his face, studying his mouth lingeringly before coming back to meet his eyes.
"What's your assessment?" Michael felt his heart start to race as Nikita tilted her head towards him, bringing her lips closer to his. He could smell the spicy scent of her shampoo, and the heat of her body seemed to seep through his thin t-shirt to warm his own skin.
"That intel is still not confirmed. I think I might have to go over the ... uh, figures again." She dropped her gaze to his chest and lower, a burning caress that left him shifting his legs restlessly. Nikita dipped her head and touched his bottom lip lazily with her tongue, holding his eyes with hers.
Michael's lips parted on a unsteady breath and she slipped her tongue between them. He tasted of coffee and buttery croissant, sweet and savoury at the same time. The sensation made her head swim, and she kissed him fiercely, her fingers digging into his knees as he kissed her back, one hand slipping behind her head as his tongue swept her mouth urgently.
The quiet chirping of Michael's phone on the kitchen bench was like a sheet of cold water. They broke apart and stared at each other, breathless. He looked at Nikita, knowing that the quiet despair he saw on her face was reflected in his own. Michael uncrossed his legs and stood up reluctantly, trying to swallow the lump of disappointment in his throat. Nikita grabbed hold of his hand, tears welling in her eyes as she looked up at him.
"Don't answer it." He watched unhappily as she angrily brushed away the fat tear that had rolled down her cheek. Michael crouched down to look her in the face, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to her forehead.
"I have to." He walked slowly to the kitchen. Holding the phone in his hand, he eyed the kitchen wastebasket beneath the bench contemplatively. Not a good idea. He sighed with resignation and took the call.
"Yes?" Nikita watched as Michael turned his back to her, his head tilted slightly to one side as he listened to the caller.
"N-o-o..." Nikita buried her head in her hands groaning, as she strained her ears to hear Michael's end of the conversation. As usual, he was speaking so softly she could hardly hear him.
"Fine. Thank you. No, I'll tell her."
Nikita stared at him as he ended the call, her heart sinking to the bottom of her stomach. It's not fair. No matter what she told herself, she did feel cheated ... cheated of every second that Section took away from them.
Michael turned and gazed at her, his face unreadable, still holding the phone in his hand.
Nikita felt her heart plummet even further, but she had to know. It's not fair. "What is it?"
"I have five days downtime." He paused, before deliberately turning off his phone, a knowing smile curving his lips as he let his eyes wander intently over her pyjama-clad form.
"And so do you."
#*#*#*#*#
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