Davenport flipped the light switch in the Ready Room. For the fourth time in as many days, he found himself on Close Quarters Standby. It was nerve-wracking. Or it would have been if he had any nerves left.

He hit the intercom with the flat of his hand. "Birkoff!" he barked.

"Yeah?" came back the surly reply.

//Only you, Birkoff. Only you could give me that snotty attitude without fear of retribution. Anyone else, I'd fucking kill. Without a cancellation order.//

"When…is this mission…going out?"

"Like I know," Birkoff snapped.

"You be sure and tell me, first thing you hear," Davenport ground out, his teeth starting to hurt from clenching his jaw so hard.

"Copy that."

Davenport stretched out his weary body on the first pallet to his left. He folded his arms behind his head and sighed. He didn't expect to fall asleep. He felt restless, almost jittery, and not for the first time, he wished he had a way to burn off some of that excess energy that didn't involve lifting weights.

He needed to get laid.

But he had a major problem with trust. Like many people who worked within the clandestine organization, he couldn't have a relationship. //You need to relax enough to have one and I just…can't.//

And one-night stands inside Section were inevitably about something else. Power, ambition, envy. But not sex. //All I want is to find someone to fuck. Pure and easy. Uncomplicated. It doesn't need to be about anything more than that.//

He told himself he wasn't lonely. But on a gut level, he knew he was wrong.

That must have been why he didn't anticipate the dream.

It was a flash mission. No prep. No warning. Just collect your weapons and go.

He turned the corner to head down to Van Access and suddenly there they were.

Michael and Nikita.

They were kissing. No, it was more than that. Michael's mouth was devouring Nikita's. He pushed her head back to expose her neck, his long, elegant fingers pressing and marking the tender flesh there. His other hand slid under her black sweater and…Jesus God!

Right there in the middle of the corridor, Michael was sucking her nipples. Was he crazy?

As if he heard what Davenport was thinking, Michael turned his head and stared at him with cool gray eyes. His eyes studied Davenport calmly, objectively, while Nikita's tongue snaked out and licked his lips.

She gave Davenport a slow, sensual smile that revealed nothing but desire. Michael slipped his hands inside her tight black leggings, but he never took his eyes off Davenport.

//Oh, my God, is he going to fuck her? Right in front of me?//

Davenport didn't even realize that he was panting slightly. His mouth parted, but whether it was from excitement or lack of oxygen was hard to tell.

Michael helped Nikita out of her clothing until she stood there, completely naked. His palm stroked between her legs. She was wet. And more than ready.

With an ungentle shove, Michael pushed Nikita against the wall, unsheathing his erection, but otherwise remaining fully clothed in mission black. Davenport could tell when Michael roughly entered Nikita because she whimpered.

"Don't hurt her," Davenport said, surprised to find that his voice never got above a whisper.

Michael laughed and bit Nikita's neck. Nikita chuckled and arched her back, drawing Michael's cock deeper inside. With a gasp that rapidly became a moan, it became clear that Michael was certainly not hurting her.

Again and again, Michael pounded into her, Nikita's moans becoming shrieks of ecstasy. She raised her bare leg and wrapped it around Michael's waist, opening herself further to what he had to give.

Davenport found himself mesmerized by what he was watching. Their lovemaking was almost violent and yet…he could sense the power and the intensity of the passion that they shared. As if he were part of it. As if Michael were fucking *him*.

//Oh, no. I didn't just think that.//

Michael's hips moved sinuously if erratically, finally stopping altogether as he emptied himself into the waiting vessel that was Nikita. His hands clenched her ass with bruising force and Nikita shuddered, her entire body shaking as she came.

They kissed. Nikita slumped against the wall, a tired smile on her beautiful face. Michael withdrew his flaccid cock and rubbed it almost lovingly against her flat abdomen.

He turned to face Davenport, his cock still hanging limply outside his black mission pants.

"Are you next?"

Davenport came awake with a long, rasping breath, straining to drag air into his lungs. Every excruciatingly vivid detail of the dream was imprinted on his mind. Forever.

His dick was hard.

Without even thinking, he unzipped his pants and proceeded to jerk off, fast and furiously, until he came, spurting into his hand.

"Oh, God," he muttered to himself. "I've got to get cleaned up before anyone sees me."

He levered himself into a sitting position, his hand still clutching his dick.

And looked right into the eyes of the one person he dreaded meeting right now.

"Hello, Davenport."

//Fuck.//

"Hi, Michael."<p>

"Did you spill something on yourself?"

Michael sounded *interested*. But he didn't sound like he'd seen or heard Davenport jerking off. Which Davenport took as his cue to resume breathing normally.

He let out the breath he'd unconsciously held and cleared his throat. "Um…yeah. I had a cup of coffee here someplace," he lied, uncaring that there was no evidence of either the cup or the coffee. Something an observant man like Michael would be sure to notice.

"Why don't you go and get cleaned up?"

"Are we still on CQS?"

Michael nodded. "Yes. Till further notice."

Belatedly remembering that Michael must have had a reason for coming into the Ready Room, Davenport asked, "Is there something I can help you with?"

To his astonishment, Michael colored. It wasn't quite a blush. A man like Michael had seen far too much to be surprised into a blush. Never mind that blushing was an involuntary response. Davenport was sure that Michael had control over that, too. Still…Davenport couldn't help but wonder what Michael was thinking.

"No," Michael finally answered, the pause much too long not to be significant.

But Davenport had no idea what it meant.

After he cleaned up, Davenport was reluctant to return to the Ready Room, but he didn't really have anywhere else to go. His quarters were on the other side of Section One and he needed to be able to move quickly when the mission eventually went forward.

This time he *sat* on the pallet instead of lying down. He didn't want a repeat of what happened before. No more sleeping. No more dreams. No more weird reactions to Michael. At least, that's what he told himself.

But his libido apparently had other ideas.

Michael was in his office. Davenport had important intel that Michael needed. Rather than go through proper channels, Davenport broke protocol and knocked on Michael's door.

There was no answer.

If Michael wasn't there, Davenport couldn't leave the report on his desk. It could fall into the wrong hands and it was definitely His Eyes Only.

Davenport hadn't read the report he carried. He was just playing messenger. He could've complained about the job being beneath him, but it wasn't healthy to question Operations' orders.

He knocked again.

This time he clearly heard someone inside. Acting on impulse, Davenport tried the door. To his amazement, it was open.

But Michael wasn't alone.

Like before, Michael was having sex with Nikita. The tall leggy blonde lay on her stomach, her body stretching across the length of Michael's desk. Michael was taking her from behind, evidently fucking her ass vigorously, if the way her breasts bounced was any indication.

Once again, Nikita was completely naked while Michael was not. Once again, Michael met his dumbfounded look with a blank stare. Only…

…this time a hint of invitation crept into Michael's eyes, turning them a warm green.

"Want to join us?"

"I-I…shouldn't you lock the door?"

"If it'll make you feel better." Michael reached for a remote on his desk and clicked it, instantly locking the door behind Davenport. "Now you'll have to stay."

"O-kay…"

He was hard again. He could feel his dick throb to life between his legs and he wanted to curse himself for being so damned quixotic. //It's Nikita I'm reacting to. She's a beautiful woman and watching Michael fuck her is incredibly hot…but not because of *him*. It's *her*. I know it is. Isn't it?//

Michael pulled Nikita's hair and she raised her head to smile at Davenport. "Come over here," she purred.

"Sure," he said. //Why?//

When he was close enough to Michael's desk that he could reach out and touch Nikita, she took the initiative. Without missing a beat, Nikita unzipped Davenport's pants and took him in her mouth. All the while, Michael continued to fuck Nikita, his rhythmic thrusting taking on an hypnotic quality that Davenport couldn't ignore. It might have been Nikita who was sucking his cock, but when Davenport squeezed his eyes shut and came in her mouth, he wasn't thinking of *her*.

Slowing his rhythm, Michael whispered, "Let's change places." It wasn't an order or even a suggestion. But Davenport could feel Michael looking at him, studying him, *watching* him.

He couldn't tell Michael that he had no desire to fuck Nikita. And the thought of revealing what he *truly* wanted filled him with trepidation.

Luckily, he was saved from making a decision. Michael withdrew from Nikita and slapped her right buttcheek, hard enough to leave an impression of his hand. After cleaning himself off carefully, Michael beckoned to Davenport.

"Close your eyes," Michael commanded. Davenport didn't even think to disobey.

Michael took a blindfold from inside his mission jacket and tied it around Davenport's head. "Can you see anything?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Good."

"Why the blindfold?"

"Narrows your focus. Heightens your sense of…touch. Then, of course, there is the element of surprise. That can be…an invigorating stimulant."

"I don't know if I like this."

Michael smiled, though Davenport could not see him. "That's part of it, too."

"Ni-ki-ta," Michael called softly. "Show Davenport how well I trained you."

"Of course," she said, climbing onto the desk on her hands and knees.

"Lie down."

This time, Nikita lay on her back, expectantly waiting for…what? Michael moved Davenport into position over her face. "Begin."

Nikita flicked her tongue out to lap at Davenport's balls and Davenport jumped at the strength of the sensation. Michael unbuckled his pants and allowed them to slide to the floor, kicking them off his feet. He knelt on the desk until he found his balance. Then he started to fuck Nikita.

Davenport could hear the wet sound of Michael's fucking and despite his recent climax, he began to grow hard again. Nikita plunged the tip of one moist finger into Davenport's ass and his erection faded abruptly. This was new to him. Not necessarily a bad thing, but definitely new.

Davenport found the blindfold curiously freeing. He didn't have to worry about who was looking at him or who he was responding to. There was only his dick and her mouth and her fingers.

Then he heard it. Nikita gasping for breath. Screaming out her satisfaction as she came. He tried to relax, but her mouth grew uncomfortably tight around the head of his cock. For a second, he was sure she was going to bite him. But just when he was about to say something, her mouth was gone, only to return a few moments later.

It felt bigger. Warmer. Wetter. Her mouth was milking his cock, and he finally let himself go. His hips jerked as he fucked her mouth. Her fingers circled his opening. They felt cool.

Then they were inside him, nudging the little nub that was his prostate. "Oh, my God," he cried out, coming hard in and around her mouth.

He felt her move then. She was kneeling or standing, he didn't know which, and she kissed him. It was a warm, wet, open-mouthed kiss that curled his toes. If he could have come again, he would have. Just from that kiss. There was a world of possession in that kiss.

And he decided then and there he might like being owned. Even if it meant giving up control.

That was when Michael removed his blindfold. Davenport's dazed smile was replaced by a look of dismay. Michael's lips were swollen, his face unnaturally flushed. Nikita was nowhere to be seen.

"Surprise."

Davenport felt his dick twitch. //Traitor.//

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