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Chapter 2
To her surprise, Nikita finished getting ready before Michael did. Seconds later, he emerged from their suite's bathroom clean shaven with his dark hair slicked back wearing a perfectly tailored tuxedo. There was something about seeing her handler dressed so formally that made him more attractive to her. It was nice to get a glimpse of him not wearing his usual suits because if anything Michael is his work and seemingly nothing else. The new look for him was a welcomed change for her to witness; it gave her a peek of what he would be like if they had met under different circumstances.
The black formfitting dress's sweetheart neckline demurely displayed her small breasts while its knee length hem revealed her long legs. In a sophisticated French twist her hair was styled. She was the picturesque image of effortless beauty and pure femininity; he almost forgot what they were there for. He cleared his throat as if to distract himself before he stood in front of the mirror and finished tying his black bowtie.
She stood behind him staring at his reflection, "You look..daper."
Flattered, he almost let his mouth form into a smirk, "I see you've been reading one of Amanda's books."
"That's how you accept a compliment? Jeez Michael, I feel bad for your dates," she playfully told him.
It had been months since his last date but he wasn't going to let her know that. Instead of responding to her comment he showed gratitude, "Thank you."
When he turned towards her she instinctively brushed his shoulders pretending not to notice his breath hitch in his chest.
"Nikita?"
"Yes Michael?" she met his stare with expectant eyes.
He convinced himself that a simple compliment wasn't inappropriate; "You're radiant."
She forced the smile that pulled at her lips into a small grin, "Thanks."
The tip of her index finger tapped on her ear bud, she saw Michael do the same.
The pleasant expression she was giving came over him. His fingers brushed an errant lock behind her ear; he pretended not to notice the small gasp of air she took in.
They shared an easy silence before Birkhoff interrupted them.
"Michael, Nikita, we're gonna be late," he told them with a hint of impatience in his voice.
"We're on our way, Birkhoff," Michael answered as he offered her his arm, "Shall we, Mrs. Edwardson?
Her arm linked with his, "We shall, Mr. Edwardson."
"This cutesy banter makes me wanna gag," he complained.
"Shut up nerd," she sniped back closing the suite's door behind them.
"Whatever Nikki and don't call me nerd."
"Don't call me Nikki."
"Kids," Michael pressed the button for the elevator, "play nice or I'll abort this mission."
With a slight pout on her lips she answered, "He started it."
"So end it," he scolded her.
"Fine, sorry…nerd."
"Me too," Birkhoff's voice rose in volume, "NIKKI."
He led her onto the elevator releasing an exasperated sigh.