Morning stole its way into Nikita's apartment much too soon. Her solo the night before had lasted until well past mid-night and she didn't get home until almost three. She willed her lashes to separate, forcing them open. The sunlight stabbed at her eyes like a dozen needle pricks and she shut them again tightly. Groping blindly, she reached down and steadied one hand against the floor as she slowly lifted her head.

"Ooh!" she grimaced and froze as a crick sent a jolt of pain down her vertebrae. Carefully she attempted to straighten her body which was twisted like a pretzel. With another groan she slid her knee out carefully from beneath her and moved her leg as gingerly as she could off of the plastic excuse of a chair she called a sofa and onto the floor. It landed with a thud and was followed immediately by the rest of her body sliding off of the chair and collapsing in a heap on the hard floor.

"Oh sht," she muttered, then moaned.

"Are you always so graceful in the morning?" a male voice asked.

Nikita's head shot up. Lethargic clumsiness vanished as muscles and bones welded into lethal mode, ready to spring. Through the mass of tangled blond hair that fell about her face she zeroed in on her intruder.

Mick sat lounging on the stool by the bar, a silly grin pasted on his face as he crossed his legs and took a leisurely sip from the mug at his side. He was wearing a pair of violet tinted shades with a matching suit and pale pink shirt opened at the collar.

Nikita uttered another expletive. "What the hell are you doing here, Mick?" This was all she needed was to have her low-life, Section informant, neighbor witnessing her early morning debacle.

"Don't you remember, luv?" Mick asked sweetly. "You invited me over last night."

Nikita sat back and folded her legs Indian style. She frowned, her mind clawing back through hazy memories of last night. She had opened a bottle of wine. That she remembered. Inviting Mick over, she didn't. She cast him an ominous stare.

"Oh, alright," Mick conceded as he rolled his eyes and waved his right hand through the air in front of him. "You didn't quite ask me over, but you asked me in, remember? We had tea? Well... I had tea - you had wine. You really should stop drinking so much, you know. It's not good for your health."

"Shutup, Mick," she growled.

Her memory inched back and along with it an important realization. "You mean to tell me you spent the night - - here?" She threw him another threatening stare as he sat smiling back at her. "Why the hell didn't you go home?"

"I did," he answered matter of factly. "This morning. And then I came back. I didn't want you waking up and thinking I just left you!"

"Gee, thanks. You're a real prince."

Nikita groaned and struggled to stand up. She had fallen asleep on the couch. No wonder her body was protesting so loudly this morning. She straightened slowly, teetering a little as she tried to get her bearing. Irritation ignited again as she encountered Mick's grinning face. "What are you looking at?"

"At you, sweetheart," he answered, laughter in his voice.

Her hands automatically felt along the front of her shirt - making sure it was all buttoned and that nothing was showing that shouldn't be. She glanced at her watch and made another face. She was going to have to rush if she wanted to make it on time. Making her way over to the kitchen she removed the cup from Mick's hand and pushed him toward the door.

"Out," she said. "I've got to get ready for work."

"But I wasn't finished with my..."

"OUT!"

"Okay! Okay! I'm going!" he stepped through the door and then turned around. "Hey! Can I come over..."

Nikita slammed the door with a thud and leaned against it as she heaved a sigh.