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Outlets
by Lianne Burwell
February 1999
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Michael left Madeline's office and headed for the monitoring station. He 
had spent the last hour briefing her on the attempts to draw Salla Vacek 
out of hiding. For years now, he'd been working part-time on the operation 
to draw the terrorist out of hiding. He'd even romanced and married the 
man's daughter, fathering her child, just to draw the man out. Nothing 
had worked. Now they wanted him to poison the girl, make it more urgent 
for Vacek to come to see her. He didn't like the idea, but Section didn't 
care. Like it or not, the plan was to go forward. He still wasn't sure 
why it was so urgent that it happen *now*, when the plan had been ongoing 
for so long.

He definitely didn't like it. Elena was a sweet girl, innocent of every-
thing her father was involved in. She had never even met the man, and 
knew nothing about what he was up to. While Michael had manipulated and 
used women before, it had never affected him this much.

Probably because all the others were short term, he told himself. He 
slept with them, but only for weeks, not years. He had become attached to 
Elena, not to mention their son Adam.

Perhaps that was why Madeline had encouraged him to become involved with 
Birkoff. To give him an equally strong, if not stronger attachment within 
Section. To keep him from losing himself in the role he played for Elena. 
He knew that if it were not for the young man, he probably would have 
fallen in love with his wife, or at least convinced himself that he was. 
That would have endangered the operation.

And himself. Section would not have allowed such a weakness in one of 
their operatives.

As usual, the monitoring station, heart of Section One, was abuzz with 
activity, despite the late hour. In fact, you would have trouble telling 
what time of day it was here, in a world lit only by fluorescent lights. 
Birkoff was at one of the computers, analyzing the data sent back by one 
of the teams on assignment. Madeline had pointed out that Birkoff would 
be going off-duty in another hour. Michael had understood the hint.

He stayed in the doorway until Birkoff looked his way. Then he simply 
tilted his head to the side, in silent question. Birkoff stared at him 
for a moment, then nodded. He gave a tiny jerk of the chin towards the 
corridor that led to the on-site personnel quarters and Birkoff's room. 
Michael shook his head. Another small nod was the only answer.

And it was as simple as that.

Michael turned and left. Birkoff would come to his apartment once his 
shift was over. Elena did not expect him home for a few more days, since 
he was travelling on 'business'. He planned to take that time to reaffirm 
who and what he *really* was, before it was time to do Section's bidding 
again.

* * * * *

Birkoff stopped outside Michael's apartment door for a moment to gather 
his thoughts. Things had been tense around Section One lately, and he was 
starting to feel completely out of control. First Nikita almost getting 
herself cancelled, then the storm when she'd found out about the Vacek 
operation.

She had shown up on his doorstep, once everything had calmed down, 
wanting to talk. He still wasn't sure what she'd hoped to accomplish by 
telling him about Michael's 'family'. Perhaps she thought he should know 
what his lover -- if you could call them lovers -- was doing on orders 
from Section. Perhaps she thought he'd break up with Michael, giving her 
another chance with him.

Maybe she had just needed a sympathetic ear to vent her frustration at 
the Machiavellian plots that Section came up with. If so, she had picked 
the wrong ear. He'd been with Section since he was fifteen years old. 
These sorts of operations were normal to him. She was still fresh enough 
to have held onto the moralities of the outside world, while he'd never 
had the chance to develop them.

Finally, Birkoff reached out an knocked on the door. He had his own key, 
but decided not to use it, just in case someone was watching. The door 
opened, and Michael stepped back to let him in. Birkoff's nose picked up 
the scent of curry. It was nearly six in the morning, but Michael was 
making dinner.

"I was hungry," Michael said, answering an unspoken question. "Since you 
were coming off-duty, I thought you might be as well."

"I am," Birkoff said, the sound of his stomach grumbling harmonizing with 
his voice. They both smiled.

It was a simple meal, just rice and vegetables with curry, and sweet 
yogurt to drink, but it filled the stomach and eased the mind. The simple 
chores of cleaning up after dinner further relaxed them both.

When Michael moved into the bedroom, Birkoff followed him easily. After 
nearly a year, the familiarity of the act was a comfort in itself.

Without a word, they slipped out of their clothes and into the bed. They 
rolled together, exchanging quiet kisses, then curled up next to each 
other, not yet ready to move to the next stage.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Birkoff asked, feeling the return of the 
disquiet in Michael that he'd seen back at Section. Something was 
bothering the older man and it was better that he get rid of it now.

For long moments there was silence. "They want me to poison her."

Birkoff was quiet. He didn't need to ask who Michael was talking about. 
"It that a good idea? She is the only thing that could draw Vacek out. If 
it doesn't work..."

"They don't want me to kill her. Just make her ill enough that Vacek will 
think that she *might* die. Madeline feels it that will draw him out of 
hiding."

"Are you going to do it?" It was a valid question. Michael had refused 
orders before and had gotten away with it. Other than Nikita and Jurgen, 
he was the only one who'd managed to do that. Jurgen got away with it 
through blackmail. Nikita *barely* got away with it because she was 
Nikita. Michael got away with it because it was assumed that when 
Operations retired Michael would head Section One.

"Yes. I think it's a mistake, but I will."

Birkoff thought for a moment. "If it works, what happens after that? To 
Elena and your son, that is."

Michael turned away. "They'll be taken care of," he said. "However I will 
probably not see them again. But I doubt they'd be eliminated. They might 
be useful again."

Birkoff easily filled in the blanks. Useful if something was needed to 
control Michael. Useful in a way that Birkoff would not be, since he and 
Michael both knew the risks involved in being part of Section.

"Would you want to continue the role?" he asked, unable to help himself, 
despite the fact that others were probably listening.

Michael turned back towards him, and reached out a hand to trace a path 
down Birkoff's neck to stroke his chest. "No," he said without hesitation.

Birkoff blinked in surprise.

"At first, it was nice. Living a normal life again. It reminded me of 
what I had lost. But I couldn't keep it up indefinitely. I don't I'm 
capable of leading a normal life anymore. Besides, I'm not the man she 
thinks she married. If she knew, she would be horrified. Terrified. I 
would never be able to be myself around her. Like I can around you."

Michael moved on top of Birkoff, staring down into his eyes. Birkoff 
looked up at the young face with ancient eyes, losing himself in them.

"You know my dark sides, and they do not frighten you. You accept what I 
am and what I do. You give me what she never will be able to. But I will 
miss her. I will miss them both."

"And I will be here," Birkoff said solemnly, a promise.

"Yes. You will," Michael agreed, lowering his weight down until he was 
pressing Birkoff into the mattress.

The kiss was gentle at first, but slowly building in intensity until it 
was wild and unrestrained. Suddenly Michael pulled away, only to fasten 
teeth on the pulse point below Birkoff's ear, sucking and chewing until 
Birkoff knew he'd be wearing the mark for the rest of the week.

"Yessss," he hissed through clenched teeth as harsh bites moved along his 
collarbone. He spread his legs and waited for what would happen next.

After playing his role of gentle caring husband for an extended length of 
time, Michael needed to unleash his dark side, the side he had to keep 
locked away around his wife. Most of the time he did so in a mission, 
since that was when he was usually called away from the role. But 
sometimes he wasn't given the chance to decompress, such as this time. 
Then his release was through sex, hard and violent and very satisfying.

The first few times he'd held back, trying to shield Birkoff. But Birkoff 
had learned the satisfaction of being the focus of such intensity, 
despite the bruises and aches the next day. While he wouldn't want this 
often, he still welcomed it from time to time. Like this time.

Instead of resisting, he responded eagerly, wrapping his legs around 
Michael's waist, pulling him down even harder. He could feel Michael's 
erection pressing against his own, hard and hot, branding him. He bit 
too, but not as hard. It wouldn't do to send Michael back to his wife 
with unexplainable marks. He ran his fingers through Michael's hair, 
pulling him back for another kiss.

"I miss the hair," he rasped, panting heavily. While Michael still had 
enough to grip, unlike himself, the long locks were mostly gone. He 
hadn't asked why.

"Maybe I'll grow them back. Maybe you should grow your own hair long."

Birkoff laughed. "My hair is much thicker and curlier than yours. It 
looks like an afro unless I grow it really long. Then I look more like a 
girl."

"I'd still like to see that. Someday."

"Maybe."

Michael reached over to the bedside table and grabbed the condom and lube 
that had been left out earlier. Birkoff watched as the condom was rolled 
on and slicked up with lube. Then one finger pressed into him, pushing in 
some lube in a sketchy preparation.

Then Michael was inside him, already thrusting in a relentless rhythm. 
Birkoff threw his head back, crying out at the combination of pleasure 
and pain. Then the pain was gone, and only the pleasure remained.

Higher and higher, the rush took him. Above him, Michael made soft 
grunting noises, quiet in everything he did. Birkoff reached up and 
pinched and pulled at the other man's nipples, probably to the point of 
pain. Michael just pounded into him even harder.

Then a hand gripped Birkoff's erection, pulling hard. Birkoff resisted 
the urge to scream as his orgasm was forced from him, only dimly aware of 
the cry of triumph above him.

* * * * *

Michael didn't wake until nearly noon. When he did, it was to a deep 
feeling of satisfaction. The anger that had been building inside of him 
since Madeline had informed him of the new plan was gone.

He slipped out of bed and went into the bathroom to clean up. He was 
running warm water over a washcloth for Birkoff when his cell-phone rang.

"Yes?" he said, turning it on. In the bedroom, he saw Birkoff stir, and a 
small smile came to his face. "Hello Elena. Is everything all right? 
Good. How is Adam?" Birkoff was sitting up now, the sheet falling down to 
bare him from the waist up. The sight was both seductive and innocent, 
like the young man. "Yes, I'll be home in two days. I miss you too. Until 
then."

He hung up, then headed for the bed. Birkoff almost purred as Michael 
cleaned him off. "Are *you* all right?" the young man asked.

"Yes," Michael replied. He was. And he was ready to do what he had to.

Salla Vacek was going down. One way or another.


THE END