Title:  Lick and a Promise

Author:  Silk

Fandom:  La Femme Nikita

Pairing:  Michael/Davenport

Rating:  NC-17

Email address: silkn1@worldnet.att.net

Date:  2/17/01

Webpage:  www.angelfire.com/ny4/tinsel/

Disclaimer: Michael and Davenport belong to LFN Productions, Fireworks
Entertainment, Warner Bros, and USA Network. All of whom are not me. Still
not making any money off these things. Haven't given up writing 'em, though.

Series: This is a sequel to Never Let' em See You Sweat. Part of what is now
being called the In Command series.

Warnings:  Set at the end of Season 3/beginning of Season 4 for those who
need to be aware of spoilers. Occasional bad words.

Summary: Davenport thinks he's in command. But Michael shows him how it's
done.

This is for Gail, who certainly seems to appreciate a man in command, (Hi,
Palmer!), and for Kathy, who would do anything Davenport *or* Michael
commanded.

And of course, for Tinnean, who was there when it started, and who will
probably be there at the end.

Lick and a Promise

By Silk

"Get your ass down here."

Davenport sighed in exasperation. Michael was resisting him. Now I ask you, he mused, what person in his right mind would give up a chance at this? He referred, of course, to himself. While he was hardly the most self-absorbed person in the world, he had a healthy ego.

One that was being dented by Michael's continued resistance.

"Michael!"

"If you shout any louder, you'll bring everyone down on us!" Michael hissed.

That almost made Davenport laugh. They were in an area of Section One where few ventured. Especially if they knew what was good for them. Although it was undeniably the safest area in Section One, due to an unforeseen and irreversible error in the surveillance net, it was also the most dangerous. The odds of being found were low. But the consequences were grim.

One did not go there without a damn good reason.

To Davenport, getting fucked *was* a damn good reason.

Davenport tugged hard on Michael's arm. It wasn't the part of his body that he wanted to touch, but they were getting there. Inch by painful inch.

The tunnel where Davenport stood was located in a sub-basement. It was necessarily dark. That might make Michael's eventual capitulation easier.

"What am I going to do with you?" Davenport muttered under his breath.

"I think you know," Michael whispered. By the sound of his voice, he was no longer so far away. In fact, if Davenport was any judge, Michael was moving closer.

What was he up to?

Stealth was one of Michael's chief advantages over Davenport. That and a creative intellect that secretly delighted in problem-solving. It wasn't that Davenport was stupid. Not at all. But Michael's ability to change direction, seemingly at will, in the face of an inexplicable challenge, was unique. Davenport's disadvantage lay in the fact that while he could always be counted upon to get the job done, his linear thinking made it impossible for him to go "outside the box".

That was how he ended up flat on his back, Michael's hand poised like a blade at his throat.

"Oh, fuck."

"It would appear that you don't have much of a vocabulary."

"If you're going to kill me, Michael, could we please cut to the chase?"

"What was it you said earlier? That maybe you would fuck me before you killed me?"

Wow. What a way for words to come back to wound, Davenport thought miserably. The worst part was, he could see that he wasn't going to get laid today.

"Well?"

"Uh, what was the question?"

All at once Michael gripped Davenport's neck with one hand. The force was enough to make his jaw go numb. "Unh," he moaned.

But wait-what was his other hand doing?

Unzipping his black leather pants. Freeing Davenport's painfully-aroused cock. Massaging its hard length with his strong, well-shaped fingers.

"Jesus, Michael. I thought-"

"Don't think."

Davenport groaned openly, his deep voice sounding unnaturally loud in the tunnel. "Quiet," Michael commanded.

Davenport felt an insane compulsion to salute, but he didn't think that would go over very well with Michael. It didn't really matter anyway. His cock was clearly standing at attention.

Michael hovered over Davenport, his hand never stopping its movements, his breath close enough to whisper across the field op's lips. "You didn't actually think that I would *let* you fuck me, did you? You can *want* me, but you can never *have* me."

"Then what-"

"Shut up." Michael released his grip on Davenport's neck, only to rub his thumb across the older man's mouth.

When Davenport was certain that he only had moments to live, he stuck out his tongue and licked Michael's finger. Michael drew back, as if stung, and Davenport briefly wondered if he had but hastened his own death.

"If nothing else, you're brave."

Michael's calm, matter-of-fact tone did nothing to reassure Davenport. He had seen Michael kill people while carrying on a conversation. Or what passed for conversation with Michael.

It was absurd to feel like he should thank the man. But he did. "Thanks," Davenport breathed, unsure why he bothered.

Looking up into what he knew to be glittering green eyes, their shade indeterminate in the dim light, Davenport waited for judgment to be passed. Michael's eyes flickered interestedly back and forth before lighting more kindly on Davenport's face.

"You give up too easily. That's why you'll never best me, Dav. I can wait an eternity, if necessary, to get what I need. And I'll always be a step ahead."

Davenport swallowed. The look in those eyes, even in the all-encompassing darkness, was too intense. "Wh-what do you need, Michael?"

"This."

With that, Michael captured Davenport's mouth in a kiss so shockingly intimate that it left nothing to his imagination about what Michael needed.

"We *will* be together." That was Michael's hand on his cock. Pumping it furiously towards a gut-wrenching climax. Holding him fast when he came.

"But we'll do it on *my* terms."

End