"I must say," began the voice addressing Madeline, "you've done a remarkable job of bringing Section One, in general, and Operations, in particular, under control." His tone, which managed to blend the incongruous qualities of silk and gravel, emphasized the last two words.

"Is there anything I can help you with, my dear?"

"Not really," dismissed the master strategist of Section One. She was ambitious to a fault, but she suffered no one's advances, including his. He might be the Head of Oversight, but he was still just *George* to her.

"Are you…certain?" he purred.

Suppressing a shudder, Madeline replied frostily, "Quite."

"You know, Madeline, there may come a time when you will welcome my…help."

Madeline resisted the urge to scream, Not in this lifetime! It was fairly easy when she considered that politics might be the name of the game, but she was its number one gameplayer. Admittedly, playing George took a great deal more finesse than playing Operations, but they were both *men* first and foremost.

Forcing a smile to her lips, Madeline patted George's arm in what he would take for an affectionate gesture. "I know I have only to ask…George."

"Mmm…you know me well, Madeline."

Indeed I do, you old bastard. The thought made her dark brown eyes gleam, another feminine wile that George would no doubt attribute to his grossly inflated male prowess.

"I'll be in touch."

She smiled graciously, telling herself that he would be gone soon enough and things could return to what passed for normal inside One.

"Madeline," he said, inclining his head.

"George," she responded, doing likewise.

"Nikita? Are you busy?"

Madeline flipped the switch on her intercom and waited. A crackle of static filled the air followed by what seemed to be a heartfelt groan. Madeline smiled. Good, she was interrupting something. She lived for moments like these.

"Yes?" came the husky-voiced operative's reply.

"Are you with Michael?"

A deep-throated chuckle came over the intercom. "No."

"Oh." That momentarily disconcerted Madeline. She prided herself on always knowing exactly who was involved with who. She didn't like the unknown.

"Could you come up here for a moment?"

"Can it wait? I really need a shower."

"Were you working out?"

Ah, that was it. She was channeling all that pent-up but useless sexual energy into physical exercise.

"Um, yeah."

"Good. I won't disturb you then."

Madeline terminated the connection, feeling rather self-righteous as usual.

Nikita pushed a button on her cell phone and threw it onto the desk in Michael's office. She pulled her soaking wet muscle shirt over her head, exposing her small, firm breasts. "Catch that, would you?" she said as she flung the shirt at the figure standing behind the desk.

"Gee, thanks, Nik."

"Admit it, the smell of my sweat turns you on."

"Mmm…helping you work up that sweat turns me on."

Nikita stepped out of her sweatpants, revealing that she wore nothing but a thong underneath. The figure whistled appreciatively. "You look so hot, honey. Want me to help you cool down?"

Nikita hopped up on Michael's desk and lay down, her back arched to thrust her breasts forward. "Get over here already."

After divesting herself of the rest of her own clothing, the naked operative spread Nikita's long legs, running her hands up and down the inside of her thighs. "So…what did Madeline want?"

"Nothing."

Quinn raised an eyebrow. "That woman never wants…nothing."

"Well, actually, it's kind of funny. She thought she was interrupting me and *Michael*."

"Mmm," Quinn placed her tongue where her hands had been and licked a moist trail from Nikita's feet to her inner thigh. "A logical assumption, but wrong."

Quinn pushed aside the slender piece of fabric that covered Nikita's femininity. After wetting her fingertip, she carefully inserted it into Nikita's waiting depths.

"Oh, yeah, right there…"

"You're so wet."

"For you, baby. All for you."

"You want me to fuck you, Nik?"

"Oh, God, yes!" Nikita shivered as Quinn added another finger. Quinn lowered her head and found the sensitive little nub that sat atop Nikita's womanhood.

Nikita squirmed restlessly as Quinn's enthusiastic tongue swirled around and around her clit. "M-more!"

"I'll give you more, baby."

Quinn finger-fucked Nikita in earnest, three fingers now whipping her insides into a veritable frenzy. In the meantime, her tongue slid up and down Nikita's labia, trying to prolong her excitement by avoiding extended contact with her more oversensitized areas.

As Nikita's hips rose off the desk, Quinn abandoned fucking her with her fingers, a loss Nikita felt immediately. "Nooo!"

"Yessss…" Quinn used her fingers to spread Nikita wide open and plunged her tongue deep inside, penetrating her just as she came. Nikita's hips thrust a few times, sending her lover's expert tongue deeper into her damp curls.

As Nikita sank back with a sigh, Quinn took her clit into her mouth and sucked gently, absorbing the pulsations as they faded.

"Was that good, baby?"

"Mmm," Nikita groaned, flinging her arm over her face.

Quinn settled her groin against Nikita's upper thigh and rubbed her growing wetness until she came with a soft cry. Their arms and legs intertwined, they lay together until Michael found them and shook them awake.

"Mi-chael…" Nikita rasped sleepily, stretching her arms.

Michael lowered his head to Nikita's right breast and licked her nipple in the way of greeting his first Childe. A moment later, he pierced the soft, plump side of her breast with his teeth. As the blood flowed freely, he mused that drinking from Nikita was always an erotic act. She was an incredibly sensual creature and she could not help but respond to him in kind.

"Am I under orders to please you, Sire?"

Michael smiled. "Wake your Childe. We have things to do."

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