Hands to Heaven


By Trace


As Michael softly rapped his knuckles on the door to Nikita's apartment, he adjusted the collar on his jacket, and held his breath. He did not like what he was about to do, but he would rather the news come from him, and not from someone else. He owed that much to Nikita.

As he glanced up and down the hallway, he heard the deadbolt tumbler turn, and looking back, he saw the door slowly swing open. Nikita was standing on the other side. She was dressed in a very sheer, white dress, that clung to and accentuated every curve of her body. She had her hair pulled up, and she had a very sad and somber expression on her face.

As she motioned for him to enter, realizing that he had been holding his breath, he exhaled. He moved other the threshold, and Nikita stepped behind him to close the door. As she did, he caught a slight hint of her perfume. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply and lingeringly, as if to imprint that scent on his memory forever.

As Nikita walked past him, and into the living room, he noticed that the room was lit with nothing but candles. There were candles everywhere. And the reflecting light from the candles played across Nikita face and body as if she were basking in moonlight.

As Nikita neared the CD player, she stopped and placed a glass of wine that she had in her hand, on the table. Then, stepping over to the CD player, she placed a CD in and pushed a button. In a few short moments, a soft, luring, ballad began. Nikita turned, and picking up the wine glass, walked back towards Michael. As she did, he could not help but think how beautiful she was, how heavenly she appeared. It made him ache all the way down into his soul, knowing that he would have to eventually tell her why he was there.

As Nikita stopped just inches from Michael, he could feel her body radiating a warm heat. He wished that he could just tell Nikita what he was there for, but he could not bring himself to do it. As he continued looking at her, he had not heard her as she spoke.

"Excuse me?"

Nikita only tilted her head slightly, and grinned.

"I said...would you care for a glass of wine Michael?"

Michael looked into Nikita's eyes, and only nodded his head. Then, as Nikita started to move away, Michael reached out his hand, and softly touched her on the elbow. Nikita turned to look at Michael, then down at his hand. After a few seconds, Nikita spoke.

"Michael?"

Michael only looked at Nikita, then looking down at where his hand was on her elbow, he released his hold. Looking back up, he slightly grinned.

"How about that wine?"

Nikita only smiled, and turned to the kitchen. As she opened the cabinet door and took out a glass, Michael walked across the room and stood by the French Doors. They were standing slightly ajar, and a cool, refreshing evening breeze wafted through. As he looked out across the city, he couldn't help but feel sad. This would be the last time that he would stand here like this. The last time he would see this view.

As he continued to look out the door, Nikita poured him a glass of wine, and walked over to join him. She offered the glass to Michael, and spoke.

"Did I ever commend you on your choice of apartments for me?"

Michael looked down at the wine glass in Nikita's hand, and taking it from her, turned to gaze across the city again.

Nikita moved in closer to Michael, and placed her hand on his. He turned from the door, and looked at her. She could see the pain and regret playing across his features, and she felt as if her heart were pounding out of her chest. As they stood there, the music on the stereo clicked off, and the room was silent, except for the cities night sounds, coming through the open doors.

Nikita, moving her hand, placed her palm on Michael's cheek. As she did, he closed his eyes, and leaned his head into her hand. She looked at him, with a sad smile, then leaned in. She lightly brushed a kiss across his lips. As she did, he opened his eyes, and looked at her. He started to speak, but Nikita silenced him by nodding her head.

Then, removing her hand from his cheek, she tooked the wine glass from him, and stepped back. She placed the wine glasses down on the table, and walking over to the stereo, she put in a new CD, and pressed play. Soon, a rhythmic, very seductive melody filled the room. Turning, she walked back over to Michael.

Offering her hand to Michael, he took it, and Nikita lead him to the middle of the room. As she turned to face him, she took his right hand and placed it in the small of her back. Then, after placing her hand on his shoulder, and taking hold of his left hand, she pulled him closer to her. As their bodies made contact, she felt his muscles tense, and heard his breath catch in his throat. Placing her head on his chest, she began to guide them into a slow swaying movement, in time with the music.

After a few moments, Michael held Nikita tighter against him, and took the lead of their dancing. He lead them in time with the music, as Nikita closed her eyes, and enjoyed the moment. She enjoyed the feeling of his chest against her cheek, and the sound of his heartbeat. She enjoyed the feel of his muscles, through his sweater, and the smell, that was uniquely his, that clung to his clothing.

Michael, too enjoyed the moment. The feel of Nikita's supple body under his hands, the smell of her hair, the familiar heat of her. He closed his eyes, and inhaled. As he did, Nikita pulled back from him, and looked up at him. As he opened his eyes and looked down at her, she smiled a slow, seductive smile.

Michael, taking Nikita's face in both hands, leaned in and softly kissed her. Then, after slightly pulling back from her, and seeing only an invitation in her eyes, he leaned in and kissed her again. This time, he deepened the kiss. His tongue nudged at her lips, and she allowed it entry. When she did, a shudder coursed through Michael's body, and he gave out a low moan. Nikita, responding to the effect that Michael's touch had always had on her, pressed herself up against him, and raised her hands to the back of his neck. She began to run her fingers through his hair, and pulled him even closer to her.

She matched him in his passion, and gave him everything she could, her very soul. She lost herself in the feel of him, the smell of him, the taste of him. As she continued to lose herself in him, Michaels hands released their hold on her face, and travelled down her body. They encircled her, and came to rest in the small of her back. As they continued to kiss, his hands ran up and down her spine, massaging and caressing her. She moaned, and then pulling back from him, she smiled.

Michael only looked at Nikita, confused. As Nikita stepped back from him a few feet, she placed her hands to the straps on her shoulders, and began to slowly slide them down over her arms. As she did, Michael inhaled, and looked at her.

"Nikita...maybe this isn't..."

Nikita, still smiling, walked up to him and placed a finger on his lips. Then, taking his hand, she guided it to the strap of her dress. Michael, after a moments hesitation, placed his finger under the strap, and drew it down her arm. Then, raising his other hand, he did the same with the other strap. Once the straps were down over Nikita's arms, the dress fell to the floor in a soft puddle around her feet. Nikita stepped out of the dress, and taking out her hair clip, let her hair fall around her shoulders. She then walked up to Michael.

Michael stood, mesmerized by Nikita's beauty. He wondered to himself how he would ever be able to live without being with her again, seeing her this way again. Then, as he was looking at her, she stepped forward and placed her hands on his chest. Michael, with his gaze locked completely on Nikita's, felt her slide her hands down his chest, and then she was pulling his sweater up his body, and over his head. As she proceeded to pull his sweater off, Nikita leaned in and place soft kisses on Michael's chest and neck. Michael, raising his arms, allowed Nikita to pull his sweater off. After having tossed the sweater in the floor, Michael once again kissed Nikita. He tried to maintain the kiss, but Nikita pulled back from him. Then, Michael felt Nikita's hands, as they burned a path down his bare chest, coming to rest at his stomach, just above his belt buckle.

Nikita's hands moved to Michael's waistband, and after unbuckling Michael's belt, she moved to unbutton his pants. As she did, Michael's hands covered hers, and stopped her. Michael looked at her, and in a husky voice spoke.

"Nikita...there is something you should know first..."

Nikita, tilting her head, only smiled at Michael. Then, after a moment, she started to unbutton Michael's pants again. Then, she slid down his zipper, and proceeded to work Michael's pants down his body.

Michael was unable to resist her, and only breathed in deeply. Once his pants were pooled on the floor, along with Nikita's dress, she stepped back towards him. As she did, she pressed her body completely against him, and as their skin touched, a torrent of bottled up emotions and needs flooded through Michael.

He wrapped his arms around Nikita, and placing his mouth over hers, slide his tongue into her mouth. He drank in the taste of her, as if her very essence was what he needed to stay alive. She returned his passion, and their tongues danced, neither giving into the other, and neither controlling the other. They were, here, now, equals. Giving pleasure, and taking it. As they continued to kiss, Michael's hands played over Nikita's body, taking in every curve and valley. He left no part of her untouched.

Then, abruptly, Nikita pulled out of his embrace, and stepped back from him. Michael only stared at her, then she held out her hand. Michael, walking up to her, acted as if to take her hand, but instead, he grabbed her and placing one hand behind her back, and the other under her legs, lifted her into his embrace.

Nikita gave out a small squeal, then looked to Michael. She did not resist, as he carried her across the room, and started up the steps. Once they arrived in the bedroom, Michael walked over to the bed, and gently placed Nikita down on. She laid back, looking up at him, as Michael leaned down, and covered her body with his.

As he kissed her on her throat and neck, igniting small flames everywhere his lips touched her, she ran her fingers through his hair. Then, Michael stopped, and pulled back to look at her.

"Nikita..."

Nikita placed her finger to his lips, and then lightly kissed him. She smiled at him, and he felt as if he were in heaven.

"Shhh...Michael....I know."

Michael then leaned in, and lightly brushed a kiss across Nikita's lips. Then, as he began to move his body against hers, he wept inside. He knew he would never be this happy again, and he knew that he would never be able to tell Nikita what he had come here to tell her.

Michael opened his eyes, and as they adjusted, he noticed that it was daylight outside. He had no idea how late it was, but he was sure that it was way past time for him to be at Section. As he stretched, and propped himself up on his elbows, he noticed that the other side of the bed was vacant. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, and standing, he took the top sheet from the bed. Then wrapping it around his waist, he walked across the room.

Descending the steps into the living room, Michael got a very uneasy feeling. As he stood and looked around the room, his gaze feel on a single red rose lying on the kitchen counter. Walking over and picking it up, he raised the rose to his nose, and inhaled deeply.

Then, glancing down, he saw a single white envelope, with the word "Michael" printed on it. Picking it up, he walked over to the couch, and sat down. Drawing the sheet up around him, he placed his thumb under the seal of the envelope, and neatly opened the flap. Taking out the notecard within, he opened it and started to read:

Michael slowly closed the notecard, and slid it back into the envelope. He then looked up, and with tears running down his face, he smiled a sad smile.

"Goodbye...Nikita."

On the street below Nikita's apartment, a young blonde haired woman looked up at a certain balcony, and smiled. Then, taking her sunglasses out of her pocket, and placing them on her face, she looked up into the sky, and inhaled deeply. Then, Nikita turned, and walked down the street.


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