Chapter 3
Author's note: You guys are incredible! I've been writing fanfiction for ten years for different fandoms and pairings. I've never seen such a passionate reaction and activity for a couple like I have with Mikita shippers! You hear that kaboom? It's the sound of my mind being blown by how much you love this pair as much as I do. Thanks again for the reviews, subscriptions and favoriting this story because unless you do one of those actions I have no clue about how you all feel about this story. Love you all!
New York's most prominent politicians, CEOs, socialites and celebrities roamed around the palatial mansion's first floor. Michael and Nikita couldn't imagine how anything could be more boring than spending all day in Division's headquarters. They both changed their minds that night where society's most privileged proved to also be the dullest and most pretentious people on earth.
The crowd parted, she saw Michael feigning interest with a group of men in deep discussion. Offering an escape, along with her hand, to him she asked, "Darling there you are. I just received a text message from the sitter. Little Luke wants to his say goodnight to his Daddy," she smiled at him.
He was thankful for her interference, "Of course, I did promise him. Excuse me gentlemen," to keep up the charade he took her hand in his. The thrill that ran through him intensified once she curled her fingers tightening her grip.
It was the first time he had willingly held her hand, not even when they sparred did he offer to help her up. The comforting warmth of his hold was new to her; it was the opposite of his usual cold exterior; she liked it. His grasp grew firm, hers didn't weaken until they entered an empty sitting room where he reluctantly released his grip and straightened his posture.
"Thanks," he quietly told her.
Her shoulders shrugged, "It was nothing. Besides, I couldn't take more of them talking about where Kitty and London were gonna to 'summer' next summer. But I figured out where I wanted to 'fall'."
"Where?"
"Right off a cliff if I had to spend a second longer with them."
An amused expression passed his face before he spoke, "Tell me about it, I'd rather hear Birkhoff explain shadownet to me again then discuss the Dow with those pompous pricks."
"It was that bad?" she nearly grimaced.
"You do know that I can hear you guys, right?" Birkhoff asked through their ear buds.
"We know," Michael answered with trace of irritation in his voice, "what is taking Brankman so long?"
"I've been listening to his security team's comms; his wife was taking her sweet old time getting dressed. They should be down any second."
"Right on cue," Nikita said when their mark and his wife descended down the grand staircase.
"You know your objective," he whispered into her ear.
The sound and feel of his raspy voice in her ear sent a chill down her spine. Her shoulders shifted a bit.
"Don't forget yours," she told him as they followed the couple.
Brankman and his wife took to the dance floor, Michael and Nikita followed their lead. Above the small of her back Michael placed his right hand while the other held Nikita's right hand. She stepped towards him, he held her closer to him. Both of them were pleasantly surprised to find out how easily their bodies moved and glided together. Their eyes met, with a slight nod and hesitation they let go of one another.
"May I cut in?" Michael asked Brankman.
No man was impervious to Nikita's magnetic lure; Brankman wasn't an exception, "Only if I can dance with your lovely date?"
"Of course, Darling," his eyes went to her.
"It'll be a pleasure," Nikita bowed her head accepting Brankman's hand.
They exchanged pleasantries with the couple until the song ended. Once they reunited Michael and Nikita went upstairs to get what they came for.
"Are you in his office?" Birkhoff asked.
"I am," she removed her ear bud.
He finished editing the conversation she had with Brankman, "Done, hold it in front of the receiver."
"Computer on," Brankman's voice spoke from the ear bud. The computer turned on, she informed Birkhoff.
"Ok now connect your necklace's pendant to the USB port. I'll find and download his client list."
"It's synced," she told him.
"Good. Michael, how are things on your end?"
In one of the children's empty bedrooms Michael made a copy of Brankman's thumb print from Nikita's bracelet then placed it over his thumb and held it against the safe's false door.
"Access granted," an automated voice announced.
"It worked," Michael replied.
He attached the decoder onto the safe's keypad. Numbers flashed on the keypad's screen as the decoder began to determine the numeric sequence that would open the safe's real door.
"Finished, good job Nikki," Birkhoff said as he typed on his keyboard.
"Thanks nerd," she disconnected the pendent from the computer.
"The decoder is still working on the combination," Michael told him.
Nikita left the office and joined him in the bedroom, "What's taking so long?"
"There are many possible sequences that could unlock the safe; it'll get it in a minute or two..." Birkhoff told them before cursing.
They shared the same concerned look and both asked, "What?"
"I'm listening to the security's comms…two of their guards are doing sweeps of the second floor."
"How close are they?" Michael asked.
"Six rooms away, how's the decoder?"
"It's still running," Nikita answered.
"Then hide because Percy is gonna cancel all our asses if we don't get those flash drives! Now they're five rooms away!"
After closing the safe's false door, he covered it with the flat screen television.
She went over to the closet to find that it was locked, "You've got to be kidding? What kind of a person does that?"
"The same kind that puts vital intel in his daughter's room," Michael explained.
"Good point," she admitted.
"Come on guys!"
Their eyes went to the bottom of the twin bed.
"Nikita..." Michael said, clearly doubtful of their idea.
"It looks high enough…There's only one way to find out," she gestured to the bed with her head.
"Four rooms!" Birkhoff urged them.
With a low reticent huff Michael rolled underneath the bed. Seconds after, she was on top of him barely fitting between him and the box spring. Turning his head, he closed his eyes stopping a certain part of his anatomy from becoming aroused at the feel of her warm physique pushed tightly against his. The sweet aroma of orange blossom perfume filled his nostrils. Against his neck were her soft lips resting on his pounding pulse. Every single one of his senses was overloading because of her, he fought to keep himself from surrendering to his carnal instincts.
Beneath her, she felt the firm muscles that hid behind all the suits he wore. His form was hot and fitted perfectly with her thin frame. She turned her face into his neck hoping to become comfortable in such an awkward position. The rhythmic racing of his pulse was on her mouth. Her hands gripped his shoulders for balance. Having him against her body reminded her of how long it had been since she was last intimate with a man. Michael meant more to her than any of her past lovers ever did, he was the only man who accepted her for the broken soul she once was and the empowered woman she was becoming. This fact made it difficult for her to not take advantage of their current situation. A sharp gasp escaped her lips once she felt his hands on the small of her back.
"Nikita, we're breathing too loudly," he whispered applying a bit of pressure with his hands
"I know that, this is-.." she quickly replied.
"Three rooms away," he informed the agents.
"Sshh, just.." he swallowed hard, "breathe with me."
"Ok," her tone was soft and full of trust.
Birkhoff quietly told them, "Two."
"Remember our training," he told her trying to contain himself at the sensation of her hot breath on his neck giving him goose bumps. He felt her head move to his chest.
"One," he whispered as he sat on the edge of his seat hoping to God that they wouldn't be discovered.
At that that exact moment they chose to imagine the only vision that gave them a true sense of serenity. Reality gave way to a place where they weren't handler and agent with the certainty of execution keeping them apart. In their world they were two kindred souls finding bliss and love in each other's embrace. It worked; their breathing and heartbeats were completely in sync.
"They're here," they both heard Birkhoff in their ears. Holding his breath, he listened in.
The hallway's light poured through the open door. A pair of black boots slowly walked around the room, "It's clear," the guard said over the radio. As he turned to leave he bumped into the bed post causing his flashlight to fall from his belt's holster. It rolled underneath the bed lightly bumping into Michael's arm. With cautious ease Nikita rolled it against the carpeted floor. When the bed skirt moved inward; she carefully returned her hand to his shoulder. In still silence they watched the guard retrieve the flashlight, it was mere inches from where they lay.
The instant the door closed a long breath of relief came from all three of them.
Trying his best to sound casual Michael suggested, "Ladies first."
"Always the gentleman." she got off of him.
Both avoided making eye contract as they fixed their appearance.
"I don't know how the hell you two pulled that off but..it was freaking great!" Birkhoff admitted with a small laugh wiping the sweat from his forehead.
"Gold star," he finally looked at her and grinned.
"Likewise," she proudly nodded.
The decoder beeped signaling its completion, "Access granted."
Michael swiftly removed the flash drives from the safe and placed them in his jacket's inner pocket.
"Guys, we got another problem."
"What now?" Michael asked clearly annoyed.
"The guards are still on your floor; Brankman told them to stay there. And Percy wants us on the plane in fifteen minutes. You gotta figure a way to haul ass out of there, NOW." he told the agents.
She looked out the window,"It's too high to climb down."
An idea popped into his head, "Trust me on this," he undid her hairstyle and ran his fingers through it.
The tingling sensation his touch caused briefly gave her pause. To help their scheme she followed his lead by tousling his hair, pulling his shirt from his pants and smearing her lips on his face but avoided direct contact with his mouth. She had enough uncomfortable moments for one evening.
For a fleeting moment he relished the lovely feeling of her mouth on his face.
Loud mischievous laughter came from them purposely alerting the guards.
"Oh Honey you are insatiable!" she tapped his chest.
"I was just trying to keep with you, Baby," he held her close.
"You two aren't supposed to be here," the tall guard sternly told them.
Faking an embarrassment she responded, "I know but you guys have to understand we were just having a little quickie in the closet. We have a two-year-old at home who won't leave us alone…it was harmless fun."
"And come on..Look at her, can you blame me?" Michael added giving a suggestive glance in her direction and a sly grin to the guards.
Her dark remorseful eyes went to the guards, "We're really sorry. Just let us get back to the party like nothing happened, ok?"
"You two were in closet? The closets are locked," the other guard said as he looked at them with suspicious eyes.
With an innocent tone and stare she lied, "This one isn't, go check."
Once the guard stepped in Nikita kicked his crotch, as he gasped and cupped himself she repeatedly introduced his head to the wall until his lifeless body landed on the floor. Michael struck the other guard in the face then gave him a hard punch in his solar plexus. Groaning in pain, the guard hunched over making it easy for Michael to snap his neck with his arms. He dragged his limp body into the bedroom.
Following their discreet and swift exit from the mansion they immediately got into the van where Birkhoff waited.
"Great work guys.." he complimented them from the driver's seat, "and let's not tell Percy how close of a call that was."
"Deal," Nikita stated rubbing her bare shoulders.
The sight of her trying to get warm concerned Michael; it prompted him to place his tuxedo's jacket on her shoulders.
His gentlemanly gesture touched her, she graciously gazed at him.
"You need it more than I do," he explained as he rested his back against the opposite side of the van.
"Thanks," she kindly told him. Her delicate yet lethal hands held the jacket close to her body taking in its warmth. His masculine scent lingered, she inhaled taking comfort in its familiarity.
"Don't mention it," his knees became unbent allowing his legs to rest directly against hers. When she didn't move away he held her stare.
The thoughtfulness he was conveying inspired her, she took a disposable facial cloth from her purse and gave it to him, "Passion plum is not your color, Michael."
He wiped the lipstick from his face and neck, "I know, it clashes with my complexion."
"Definitely," she beamed enjoying the sight of him letting go of his professional demeanor.
There weren't a lot but her smile was one of the few weaknesses he had; he averted his eyes from her unsure of what he might do if he didn't.