The Element Of Danger

By K9

"Birkoff, do you have that data yet?" Michael swept into the room.

"You know someday, someone will walk through that door and say 'Hey Birkoff, how you doing? You feeling okay today?" the young man grumbled.

"I don't have time for it ready?"

"Yeah, yeah," Birkoff handed over the data and sat back as he watched Michael leave as quickly as he'd arrived. 'Thanks, Birkoff, have a nice day' he muttered to himself, returning to his back up system and his game of 'Doom'.


When he next looked at his watch, Birkoff was shocked to find that it was two a.m. The mission was completed and the operatives were heading back. His job for tonight was over.

He sat back from the screen and sighed, he couldn't remember the last time he'd been outside...just for a walk, let alone a date.

Birkoff smiled to himself, a date. What a joke! This wasn't exactly the place to meet girls.

It wasn't easy being the youngest in this organisation, and it wasn't the easiest of organizations to be involved with. They didn't exactly encourage extra curricular activities. Talking in your sleep would get you dead here but then, most things would.

It was at times like this that Birkoff got a little depressed, knowing that he would never have a normal life, a wife and kids, a nine to five job, he'd just one day outlive his usefulness and end up cancelled ...just the same as everyone else.

That was probably the only comforting factor in this whole set up, Operations, Madeline, everyone, they'd all end up dead.

He touched the keyboard of his computer, it was often the only thing that kept him alive and for most of the time it was enough to occupy his mind. But sometimes, just sometimes, he craved a human presence. Something with a soul to talk to.

"Birkoff?" a voice said suddenly behind him, he jumped in his seat.

"Michael?" Birkoff straightened up. Yeah, he'd said something with a soul, but he guessed Michael would have to do.

"Are you okay?"

"Sure," Birkoff said with surprise.

Michael showing concern?

Nervously he glanced at Michael's hands, could he see them both? Was he carrying a weapon? Was this it, his cancellation?

"You seemed upset this morning, I had no time to stop, but I thought I'd call in to see how you were doing now."

"Oh, I'm fine, I was just feeling a little sorry for myself, I guess," Birkoff smiled shyly.

Michael so rarely looked at anyone with any sense of concern that it unnerved Birkoff immensely.

"We all feel that way occasionally."

Was that

"Even you?" Birkoff asked incredulously, not meaning to sound quite so surprised.

"Yes, even me."

It was a smile. That clinched it, he was definitely here to cancel him. Michael sat down opposite Birkoff, that intense gaze of his seeming to pierce Birkoff's very soul.

Nikita had once said that Michael was an enigma, so soft one moment yet always so dangerous.

Dealing with him was like playing games with a beautiful but lethal jungle cat, exciting and exhilarating, but ultimately hazardous to your health.

Suddenly, Birkoff could see what Nikita had meant. How easy it would be to trust and like this smiling man in front of him, yet he knew that upon one word, Michael would, without missing a heartbeat, kill him in cold blood.

"When did you last get out of here?" Michael asked suddenly, shattering Birkoff's thoughts.

"I...I don't remember."

"Then it's been too long. Close down the system, I'll buy you take-out."

Birkoff stared, unable to fully comprehend what had been said. That was it, he'd been told to kill him somewhere away from the Section. Michael was going to take him some place quiet and put a bullet in his brain. But what could he do? Michael was more than capable of over powering a weedy computer nerd like him.

"O..Okay," his stomach churned, and his hands shook, but he did as he was told, and obediently followed Michael from the building.

" isn't your usual car, is it?" Birkoff asked nervously.

"No, it's in the shop, broke down this morning. The garage loaned me this one."

"I knew I hadn't organized one through the Section," the younger man could feel his heart rate increasing.

"No there wasn't time, but I cleared it with Operations this morning."

Birkoff felt sick. A non authorized car and Michael being nice..he was a dead man for sure.

"Pizza do?" the older man asked suddenly, pulling the car into a back alley.

"Yeah," Birkoff was barely able to speak, his mouth was dry and his head felt dizzy.

"I'll be back in a moment." Michael climbed out of the car.

This was going to be it. A shot from the side, through the car window, at least it would be quick and clean, Michael was a good shot, the best. He felt a little proud at the fact that they'd sent the best to do the job.

What was he thinking? This man was going to murder him. The best or not, he was still going to be dead. <Stop whimpering> he told himself. Be a man.

"You like anchovies?" a voice said suddenly in his left ear, causing him to bash his head on the roof of the car.

"What?" he managed to croak.

"Anchovies?" Michael's face was close to his.

"Yeah...fine," Birkoff gasped.

"Okay, there you go, hang on to mine until we get there."

"Get where?"

"My place."


Michael pulled in to the underground parking garage. Birkoff eyed him suspiciously, why would he bring him here to kill him? That's if it *was* his home? It could just be some kind of Section house where they dispose of the bodies.

"C'mon before the pizza gets cold," Michael said suddenly.

Birkoff hadn't even noticed him getting out of the car.

They travelled up on the elevator in silence. Birkoff was convinced that his companion could hear his heart beating, it sounded like jungle drums. They stepped out into the corridor, surprisingly it was very smart and chic.

Michael took out a key and opened the door of number three twenty seven, Birkoff nervously walked in behind him and as the light illuminated the room, he gasped, "This is beautiful!" he said with awe.

Michael smiled slightly, "Thank you." he said quietly.

Taking the boxes from his hands, the older man walked into the kitchen.

Birkoff moved to the window. The view was breath taking, the lights of the city shone like stars reflecting on water.

"Sit down." Michael said suddenly from behind him, handing him his meal.

They ate quietly, a couple of beers helped to lubricate his dry throat, Birkoff found himself relaxing slightly. Maybe that was the strategy, get them relaxed, then... BAM, hello heaven.

Heaven? It was doubtful that anyone from the Section would go there.

"The view from here is amazing," Birkoff said finally trying not to babble, but desperate to break the heavy silence.

Michael smiled, "That's why I chose this place, it's tranquil. Here, let me turn out the light, you can see so much better without the light on."

Birkoff tensed, this was it.

Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder. "You really should learn to relax," Michael's voice whispered in his ear. Strong hands began to massage the tight muscles in Birkoff's shoulders. "Why are you afraid of me?" the voice was husky, the gentle French inflection much more pronounced than usual.

"I'm ..n..not!" Birkoff squeaked, trying to sound calm.

"That's not what your body is saying," Michael continued to knead at the offending muscles.

Birkoff suddenly realized how much he was enjoying the sensation. He closed his eyes, allowing the emotion to wash over him. Feeling Michael turn him around, he kept his eyes tightly shut, if this was the end, then let it be quick and let it be now.

Instead of the pain of a bullet, Birkoff felt soft lips brush his own, his eyes opened wide, Michael's face was close, he pulled back.

"If this isn't what you want, say so now," Michael whispered, "If you're unhappy with the situation, I'll take you home."

"No..." Birkoff heard himself say, "No, it's okay. I like this," he whispered as he saw himself move back into Michael's arms, back into his embrace.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."


He wasn't sure how they got to the bed, the action was just a blur of tangled limbs, frantic groping and uncontrollable hip thrusting. But Birkoff soon found himself stripped of his clothes and pinned beneath Michael's larger body.

"Have you ever done this before?" the bigger man gasped.

"," Birkoff choked out the words.

"Not with a man?"

"Not with anything."

Michael paused in his assault of the younger mans throat, pulling back to look him in the eye. He smiled that chilling and deeply sexual smile, "A virgin?" he purred.

"Go ahead, laugh," Birkoff blushed profusely, suddenly feeling very immature.

"No, it's...nice. Very sexy," Michael claimed Birkoff's lips and devoured him once more, "We can take it slow. I won't hurt you," he whispered.

The younger man shuddered, whispered promises of pleasure from a killer, not the most comforting of situations to be in, but already his body had submitted.

<If this is the end for me, then at least I won't die horny,> the thought with a smile.

Michael kissed and licked his way down Birkoff's youthful form, teasing hardened nipples and gently running a fingertip across the young man's erection. Grinning as Birkoff almost leaped into the air, gasping for breath.

"Never been touched there?" the older man teased, "Tonight really will be a night of firsts for you won't it?"

Nodding his head, bereft of the powers of speech, Birkoff mentally reeled through this 'night of firsts'.

First time he'd ever left the section with Michael.

First time Michael had ever been 'nice' to him.

First time he'd seen where the assassin called home.

First time he'd ever been kissed so passionately.

First time he'd ever been touched so intimately.

First time he'd been fucked.

First time he'd died......

Shaking his head at that last lingering thought, Birkoff allowed himself to fully surrender to Michael's gentle ministrations, turning easily in the bigger man's arms as Michael curled against his back. He felt fingers running softly down his spine, slipping into the cleft of his ass, seeking entry....

It didn't hurt like he thought it would. Birkoff had imagined that sex between men must *hurt* at least.

After all, it was 'unnatural', that's what had been drummed into him at that 'place'. It was a sin and he was a freak.

Gasping as Michael came to rest against him, buried deeply within him, Birkoff shook away the old thoughts. He was here, it was *now* and Michael was loving him.

"You okay?" the older man whispered in his ear.

"Yes," Birkoff panted.

Michael had begun a gentle rocking motion, his arm rested on his partners chest as he encouraged Birkoff into the rhythm his body was creating. As soon as Birkoff began to relax, Michael curled his fingers around the young man's desperate cock.

It wept, hot and aching with need and Birkoff was sure he was losing his mind. As Michael's long sensitive fingers swept up and down the shaft, ghosting the surface, the younger man shuddered at such exquisite torture, he was sure he would die.

Michael's thrusts were becoming more urgent, he began to match them with longer harder pulls on Birkoff's cock, soon sending the young man spiralling over the edge, semen spewed out over his hand and across the dark sheets. With a moan and a shout of release, Michael climaxed.

"I made a mess on the sheets," Birkoff groaned shyly.

"That's okay," Michael replied, his voice heavy with sleep but tinged with humor, "You have to sleep on it.



On waking, Birkoff looked around. The bedroom was even more beautiful than the other rooms, simple and classy. He still lay in Michael's arms as the moonlight filled the room with an eerie blue light, casting strong shadows over the sleeping body next to him.

Now he could see why Nikita forgave Michael even the most hideous of transgressions, he was truly beautiful. Was this what Michael treated *her* to when he had sinned against her? Or was this for him alone? Somehow he doubted it, but just for tonight it was nice to think it so.

"Are you alright?" a sleepy voice asked.

"Yeah, I was just thinking," Birkoff smiled.

His companion's eyes flickered open. "What about?"

"About how beautiful you are. And how stupid I am."

"Why are you stupid?" Michael frowned.

"I thought you brought me here tonight to cancel me," Birkoff grinned, snuggling deeper into the other man's arms.

Michael gave a throaty laugh, "So that's what was wrong all evening?"

"Yeah. And when I saw that you had a different car...."

"Of course, I would *never* get blood on my own upholstery."

"You work it out. You ask me out for take out, in a rental car, then take me back to your place, or so you say," Birkoff was grinning. He leaned up on one elbow, peering down at Michael in the semi-darkness "I was sure that you'd been ordered to cancel me. What would you think?"

Michael stared up at him, he had a softness to his expression. He brushed Birkoff's face with his fingertips, tracing a line down his cheek and along his jaw-line.

"Me?" he spoke softly, "I'd think...that the nights not over yet."

The End