| Subject: Heat Wave 2 |
Author:
'chelle
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Date Posted: 10:13:15 01/05/02 Sat
In reply to:
'chelle
's message, "Heat Wave" on 10:01:34 01/05/02 Sat
Chapter Two
Nikita needed to stall for time. Michael would need it to get up to the office. "Care to tell me what this is about? I simply needed to talk to you about a business matter, I don't…"
"SHUT UP!" Ham -like hands closed around her neck and shook her about like a blond rag doll. She instinctively struggled to free herself from the surprise attack, but the man was too big, too strong. Her glasses fell off and her hair came undone, reaching behind her, she attempted to get a hold on her assailant.
"Let her go." As suddenly as they had appeared, they were gone. Leaning over, Nikita attempted to drag in deep lung-fulls of air. She pawed for her purse, which was still down by her feet, only to have to wrenched from her grasp.
"I believe my associate here has a delicate situation to discuss with you." Quinlan smiled, walking back to stand behind his chair.
"I don't understand." Nikita looked up at Quinlan, confusion in her eyes.
He considered her for a moment, "I know you will feel pain. I also know you will die. Those are the only facts you need to know." Quinlan smiled and picked up his suit jacket. "Well, have a nice day."
~~~~~~~~~~
Michael yanked open the bottom stairwell door, "Birkoff, the mission… "
"MICHAEL... don't let Nikita go into the meet with Quinlan, the intel we were given was faulty it's a trap." Birkoff's voice sounded in Michael's com link.
"We are going to have to work on your timing Birkoff." Michael pounded up the stairs, one thing, and only one thing on his mind. Nikita.
~~~~~~~~~~
Nikita's head was swimming from the blows she had taken. The biker had 100 pounds on her and had started with the element of surprise. She had gotten in a few good licks, but the brunt of the beating was falling on her.
~~~~~~~~~~
Each sound Michael heard through the open channel tore into him a little more. Pulling open the fifth floor door, he ran in, glancing briefly to the left then the right. Noticing Quinlan waiting for the elevator, Michael pulled his gun while never missing a step and shot him, full chest shot.
Michael slowed as he passed the prone body, into the office that held Nikita.
The outer room was deserted, a few chairs and a desk with a computer sat in the room, a single door leading to a inner office was to the right, Michael moved toward it. "Nikita… " Testing the doorknob, and finding it locked, he stepped back.
"I'VE GOT A GUN!"
The sound of a gunshot coincided with Michael's kick to knock the door in. Michael raised his gun and walked forward, bracing himself for the worst.
Nikita stood over the body of the biker, breathing heavy with blood streaming out of cuts on her face and around her mouth. A gun held loosely in her hand.
"So do I tough guy." She glanced up and focused onto Michael. "'bout time, what did you do? Stop for a snack on the way?" Her caustic words were softened by her small smile and teasing tone.
He stared at her for a long moment, drinking her in. As long as he lived, he would never get used to placing her in danger. Never be able to listen to her in pain and be able to 'deal with it.' She was his heart. Without her, he was just another Section tool; cold, lifeless and only there to be used by others. She completed him.
"Let's go." Michael turned and indicated she leave the office before him. Nikita limped forward, her dress a bit torn, one shoe shoved in her purse along with her gun.
As she passed Michael, she brushed close, "Thank you." she whispered and walked out the door.
Michael stayed, staring at the large man on the floor, an ironic expression on his face. He shook his head and turned to follow her. "Birkoff, both targets have been eliminated. Send housekeeping." Walking out, he helped Nikita pull the body of Quinlan back into the office, and they stood at the elevator doors, waiting for the doors to open.
"Well, that was fun."
Michael tried hard not to break a smile. Fun wouldn't be the term he would put on it, but if it worked for Nikita, it worked for him.
A soft chime signaled the arrival of a car; the elevator doors slid open, and she stepped inside. Michael followed, and the doors closed, sealing them both inside. Nikita reached out to punch the ground floor, encountering Michael's hand. He grabbed and held her slim hand, rubbing his finger back and forth across the smooth skin. "Are you all right?"
Nikita smiled at his concern, he was slowly exposing his inner self to her. It was going slowly, but he was doing it. "Yes. I'm fine." She smiled and squeezed his hand before letting it go. "So, what now?" She leaned back against the paneling, wincing a bit at the soreness from her latest encounter with violence.
Three seconds later the elevator lurched to a violent stop. Hurled off balance, Nikita crashed into Michael, his hard arms wrapped around her as they fell, and he twisted his muscular body to cushion the impact for her. Simultaneously the lights went off, plunging them into complete darkness.
The red emergency lights blinked on almost immediately, bathing them in a dim, unearthly glow. She didn't couldn't move, not just yet, she was paralyzed by a strange mixture of alarm and pleasure. She lay sprawled on top of Michael, her arms instinctively latched around his neck while his own arms cradled her to him. She could feel the heat of his body even through the layers of clothing, and the musky male-scent of his skin called up memories of their nights together. She pushed against him, trying to lever herself up and off him. For a second, his arms tightened around her, flattening her breasts against his muscular chest. The red half-light darkened his green eyes to black, but she had glimpsed the desire that had flamed in them for a second.
The desire tempted her to relax, but now was neither the time nor the place.
"Michael." She pushed again, this time he released her, though she still sensed his reluctance, and rolled to his feet with a lithe, powerful movement.
He caught her arms and helped her from the floor, gazing into her eyes. "Any new bruises?"
She smoothed down her skirt, "No. I'm fine, you?"
He didn't reply but went straight to the panel and punched a button.
"Michael, the air has stopped." She lifted her hand to check, but there was no cool air blowing from the vents. The lack of noise had alerted her.
"The power must be off." Michael moved to the elevator doors "Help me with these doors."
Nikita joined him and together they pried open the door to see they were stuck between floors with about three feet of the outer doors visible. She helped him force open those doors as well. Before she could say anything he had lowered himself through the opening and swung down to the floor below.
He turned, holding his arms out for her. Nikita took a breath to help cushion any jarring the acrobats would have on her injuries and swung out of the elevator as gracefully as he had, even encumbered with bruises, aches, and only one high heel. She landed neatly and safely in his arms, she leaned in and gave him a quick kiss, "My knight in shining armor."
"Imp." He lowered her to the ground and turned to the stairway, once again, indicating she go before him.
Walking towards the door, she could feel him behind her, like a great beast stalking his prey. She pushed the door open and stopped in her tracks.
"Uh oh."
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