"Twisted. Ooby-shooby. Out to lunch. Get the picture?" Nikita asked Birkoff, as he grinned madly at her.

"Oh, I got the picture." He laughed hysterically. "I also got the intel. What'll you give me for it?"

"I'm not giving you anything for it, you little worm. You're lucky I'm letting you live."

"Uh…Nikita? That last part needs a lot of work. To make it believable." Birkoff burst out laughing again, and Nikita sighed.

She picked up her PDA and waved over her shoulder at the still-chuckling Birkoff. "Have a good time at the Geek convention, Seymour. I hope you choke on an olive pit in your martini."

Birkoff chuckled intermittently, then stopped. "Good thing I didn't take that last remark personally. Or you'd be in big trouble."

Nikita hooted derisively. Sheesh, he was worse than Operations, and he didn't dress as well.

Nikita had to work with Star Winslow, appropriately codenamed Sparkle. She was a great profiler. But there was definitely something odd about the girl. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she would bet her last penny that Star's elevator didn't run to the top.

She tried to warn Birkoff to beware of the profiler's sudden interest in him, but he was…just being Birkoff. He didn't see anything but Star's pretty face, and he was undeniably flattered by Star's interest. So he asked Star to accompany him to the Pan-European Computer Convention. A three-day weekend. In Paris. How could he miss the opportunity?

Nikita shrugged. She was sure it was a big mistake. Birkoff just didn't know it yet.

Star talked to the mirror as she applied black eyeliner to her big brown eyes. "So, Sparkle, what do you think of Seymour? Isn't he just the best?"

There was something engaging about Star, albeit in an ingenuous way, as if she had not quite left her adolescence behind. She smiled at her image. Although she disliked computers intensely, she made an exception for Birkoff and his invitation. How could she pass up a chance to see Paris? A three-day weekend was a wonderful chance that might never come again. And besides, she liked Birkoff.

Sparkle grinned mischievously at her more serious sister. "You're too good for him, sis," she said.

Star laughed. "I don't know about that." She sobered instantly. "After Michael…dumped me…I thought I would never be able to care about a man again. But Seymour…he could be the one, sis."

Sparkle smiled knowingly. "You should have let me take care of Michael, Star."

Star protested. "Oh, but I couldn't. I wouldn't want him dead or anything…"

Sparkle shook her head. "Like I said, you're too good, sis. You were way too good for Michael. He deserves that blonde witch, Nikita."

She played with Star's long black hair, pulling it into an upsweep. "Wear it like that, sis. Birkoff will never know what hit him."

They giggled like children, making romantic plans, chattering away in a conspiratorial tone. It was to die for.

Nikita knocked on Michael's office door. He turned his head and smiled when he saw it was her. He beckoned her inside. She closed the door behind her.

He raised one eyebrow. "Trouble?"

She sat on the edge of his desk, one long leg dangling. Michael's eye was drawn to the length of her, but he resisted the urge to touch her.

Nikita ran her hands through her hair. "I just found out something disturbing, Michael."

Michael looked intently at Nikita. "How can I help?" he said softly.

"I asked Birkoff to run down some intel for me…"

"And?" Michael knew better than to push Nikita. She would tell him, all in good time.

"And he did…" Nikita sighed heavily and leaned toward Michael. For a moment, they were so close, they nearly touched. Michael's gaze dropped to her mouth, unconsciously, and Nikita registered the anticipatory look seconds before he claimed her mouth.

She felt him pull back, and her heart ached. Moments like these were so few. But they made the most of what they had.

He touched her hand, stroking it repeatedly with his thumb. "What did Birkoff find out?"

Nikita brought her mind back to the reason she came. "That our new profiler, Star Winslow, is a bit…um…twisted."

Michael frowned. "Twisted, how?"

"She has a habit of getting involved with operatives and other personnel. She takes advantage, finds their weaknesses and exploits them."

"To what end?"

"So far, just for personal gain."

"Does Section know about this?"

Nikita laughed softly. "Know about it? They love it! She's a woman after their own heart."

Michael traced a finger down the side of Nikita's cheek and she closed her eyes on a low, soft exhalation. She kissed his finger, and when her eyes opened again, they were suspiciously bright.

"Tears? Why?" Michael whispered.

"She's after Birkoff. And I think, she just might get him."

Michael smiled. "Is that such a bad thing? Birkoff could use the attention of a lady—"

Nikita blinked. "This is no lady, Michael."

Nikita slid off the edge of Michael's desk, reluctant to let go of his hands. "And this is Birkoff we're talking about…he doesn't have the experience to deal with this."

"So what would you like to do about it?"

She smiled. "How would you feel about a three-day weekend in Paris?"

The kiss she received was more than an answer. It was a promise.

Star was too shy to suggest that she and Birkoff share a room at the hotel in Paris. But Sparkle wasn't.

Sparkle made the arrangements and stunned her sister by presenting her with a fait accompli. In fact, when Star found herself curiously tongue-tied and unable to mouth the words of love that she felt inside, it was Sparkle who helped her out.

Again and again, Sparkle came to Star's rescue. Yet Star never resented her intruding upon her weekend with Birkoff. Star merely accepted her sister's actions as a loving gesture.

It was Birkoff who began to wonder what was going on. Star frequently disappeared without explanation. She made unnecessary trips to the bathroom, she avoided him until bedtime. Birkoff wasn't experienced, by any means, but he knew when someone was avoiding him.

Part of him loved the fact that Star was still naive and relatively unfledged. Part of him found her behavior inconsistent and frustrating.

"Star," he whispered softly, trying not to scare her away. "If you didn't want to be here with me, why did you come?"

Star gasped. "Oh, but I do want to be with you, Seymour! I do!"

"You do?" He found that rather hard to believe.

Star nodded solemnly, her big brown eyes luminous in her carefully made-up face. "I think I might be falling for you."

Birkoff blinked. "Really?" That was too good to be true. Therefore, it probably was.

She kissed him, full on the mouth, and Birkoff almost backed up. Almost. He still found her entrancing, if a trifle odd.

Star paused, as if listening to something. Birkoff couldn't hear a thing. But he just assumed that they were due for another interruption. Star always got that look before she invented another excuse to avoid him.

She ran into the bathroom, calling over her shoulder, "I'll only be a moment."

Birkoff took the moment to review what he knew about Star. He knew she was one of a pair of identical twins, though the other twin did not work for Section. That must make it hard on her.

Birkoff frowned. Come to think of it, how was Star's sister even aware that she was still alive? Star talked about her sister all the time. But Star's sister should think Star was dead. That was per Section protocol.

He pulled out his laptop, groaning as he realized that he would undoubtedly be sorry if he passed up the opportunity to spend this glorious weekend in Paris with Star. But never one to pass up an intrigue like this, he just had to delve further into her background.

Suddenly, Birkoff's mouth dropped open. That wasn't possible. Dammit, it just wasn't possible. It would mean…

…she was lying to him.

Michael studied Nikita's reaction to the room they shared at the hotel in Paris. Their room adjoined Birkoff's. But strangely enough, Birkoff was the last person on Michael's mind at that moment.

Nikita was secretly delighted, though she curbed the urge to show it. "It's a lovely room," is what came out of Nikita's mouth. But "I love that you agreed to come here with me" was definitely struggling to make its way to the surface.

Michael heard the unspoken message in the husky throb that passed for Nikita's voice right now. He tried to focus on the reason they came, but it was damned difficult.

"Birkoff is with Star now?" Michael asked.

"Yes," Nikita answered, wondering how Michael could maintain that incredible control in the face of all the romantic elements competing for their attention. The streets of Paris called… The hotel itself… The room… and, God help her, Nikita thought with a vehemence that bordered on the violent, the bed that dominated the room…

Michael lowered his head ever so slowly to Nikita's waiting mouth.

Suddenly, the door burst open. It was Birkoff, clad only in a pair of white boxer shorts.

"She's after me! She wants—" Birkoff shouted, only to cut off by Nikita.

"Congratulations, Birkoff. She wants you." Nikita all but beamed at the young man.

Birkoff looked aghast. "—to kill me!" he finished.

"What makes you think that, Birkoff?" Michael asked.

"I just found out what happened to Star's last three boyfriends. They're all dead."

Nikita looked at Michael. "Could be coincidence."

Birkoff snorted. "Or not."

Michael sighed in frustration. So near and yet so far. He trailed a hand absently down Nikita's back, and he felt her shiver in response.

"Maybe you're just overreacting, Birkoff," Michael suggested.

Birkoff looked at the couple standing in front of him and abruptly realized that he was interrupting them. As usual.

"But you're here. You must have thought there was something hinky about Star, or you never would have come."

Birkoff clapped a hand to his forehead. "Sheesh! You just needed an excuse to get away together. Boy, am I dense or what?"

Michael almost smiled. Nikita frowned at him. "That's not exactly the way it was, Birkoff. I was worried about you being with Star. There's something not quite right about her."

Birkoff nodded. "Well, she's certainly not the average girl. She keeps disappearing, for one thing."

Michael raised an eyebrow. "That is a bit odd. What do we know about this girl?"

Birkoff pondered a moment. "Well, she has a twin sister. I was wondering about that myself. She talks about her sister all the time. But her sister shouldn't know that she's still alive, right? That violates Section's protocol."

"Did you do a search on the sister?"

"Not yet. You think I should?"

Nikita nodded. "In the meantime, just go back to your room and try to enjoy the weekend. What's left of it, anyway."

Birkoff exited the room and Nikita turned to Michael. "Do you want to investigate the sister?"

Michael leaned over and kissed her, his lips lingering lovingly on hers. "I'd rather investigate you."

Nikita smiled.