Nikita looked at Walter, as if she were seeing a ghost. Had she heard him correctly? Was this even possible? She could not believe that this was happening. She refused to accept it.

'Sugar, did you hear me? We have some down time coming, and Madeline has already got a profile on our big doins. Sugar? You okay?' Walter waved his hand in front of Nikita, trying to shift her focus.

Nikita refocused her eyes on Walter, and returned to her senses. Then, mumbling 'I am fine,' she put on her best smile. Shaking her head, and rubbing her temples, she tried to decipher what Walter had just told her.

'Okay, Walter, let me see if I understand this. We, meaning me, you, Michael, Birkoff, Madeline, and Operations are going to a *management interaction* camp for the weekend?'

Walter just smiled, and then after a few moments, placed his hand to his mouth and all out chuckled.

'Walter, this is NOT funny,' Nikita whined.

'I think it is Sugar! If it isn't funny, then it will be darned well interesting and entertaining.'

Nikita shook her head, and placed her hands on her hips. 'No, Walter, what this is is a disaster in the making.'

With that, Nikita turned on her heel, and headed for her apartment. She had to pack, and prepare herself for what was going to be the longest weekend of her life.

***>< *** >< *** >< *** >< *** >< ***

As the group walked into the main lobby of One, all heads turned to them. It seemed that the *vacation* was over, and not all went well.

Heading up the group, was a very irrate and very upset Operations. He had his hands shoved down into his chinos, and was mumbling something about Michael and not wanting to accept a perfectly good suggestion. Madeline followed quietly in his wake, and had what appeared to be a sly grin on her face.

Following them, were a very jovial, and very smiley Birkoff and Walter. They were chatting amongst themselves, and every now and them, they would both burst out into belly rolling laughter. After the second outburst, Operations spun around and told them *that will be enough!* then turned and stomped up the stairs to his observation deck.

Picking up the rear, was Michael and Nikita. Michael, as usual had his blank stare securely in place. Nikita, on the other hand, looked as though it was everything she could do to keep from falling down in laughter.

As they all approached the comm area, OBrien turned around. Seeing Nikita, he walked over and stopped in front of her. Michael just continued on his way to his office, not giving OBrien a second look.

'So, how did the *interaction* weekend go?' he asked.

Nikita's only answer was a giggle.

'A bust huh?' he replied, flashing his own seductive smile.

Nikita looked around, then leaning in close to OBrien, whispered, 'Not really. All depends on your point of view.'

OBrien, his smile growing even wider, looked around as well. Then, moving to stand next to Nikita, spoke.

'Do tell, my dear, do tell.' he coaxed.

Nikita, trying to contain her laughter, only smiled. 'Lets just say, I will never look at office furniture in the same way again.'

Seeing OBriens puzzled look, Nikita added, 'not after seeing it piled up by a group of people who hate each other, just to have the ring leader standing on top, pounding on his chest, yelling he was the king.'

OBrien stopped smiling, and a look of horror crossed his face. 'You mean, you all had to do that co-worker, interactive, trust-me crap? No way!!'

'Yes way,' Nikita replied.

'I am surprised that it went as well as it did,' OBrien commented.

'Oh, it was great. Especially after Walter removed a crucial piece of furniture from the pile, and it came tumbling down, with Operations landing on top of it,' Nikita offered, barely containing her laughter. 'So you see, the look on his face, when his butt hit the floor, that was worth a whole month of down time to see.'

Leaving OBrien smiling at that mental image, Nikita headed across the lobby, and for home.

This story ©copyright, TRACE >'-'< , 1999