THE STANDARD DISCLAIMER
The author does not claim ownership of the Kids Next Door or its characters. As to the author's current knowledge, ownership lies with Mr. Walburton and the Cartoon Network. The author merely uses the characters and ideals in order to create a fictional work purely for non-profit entertainment.
THE RATING
This current piece has been given a rating of R or M due to the somewhat mature content involving implied graphic language, mild nudity, sexual/dark themes, and mild-to-heavy violence. The author does not condone any of the following acts with any person(s), especially those under the ages of 21. Those who read this are hereby reminded that this is a work of fantasy and not to be taken seriously in any way.
A WORD FROM THE AUTHOR
Greetings to all who decided to read this, I'm so glad your curiosity led you here! As one may have noticed, I have been rather quiet with my updates. Very quiet indeed. The reason for such being, among other things, this little project which was rather inspired by the movie The Spirit, which rekindled my love of noir-styled movies and such gave birth to what you see here. However, I cannot truly take full credit for what you see here; my associate whom shall remain anonymous, was a great inspiration and a marvelous teammate whom was more than gracious to not only work alongside me to weave this together, but also was humble enough to allow me to share this story as my own. They know who they are, and I hope that they will be as pleased with this as I am. Without further ado, I give you my leave and allow you to progress with Nigel Uno's tale of emotions: Love, lust, greed, hate, envy, sorrow, and more.
Syncronis Presents:
Want, Need, Desire
Chapter 1:
Love And Hate
Go
Hand In Hand
With
You And I
A good friend of mine once told me that while your body may get old, you truly are as young as you feel. If that were the case, Nigel old boy, you must be at least fifty by now. I let a groan fly free as I trudged from my tree house to the front door of the house. Normally I'd sleep this off in the comforts of my work quarters, surrounded by tree house defenses and high-class data. But I'd been gone for over two weeks, tracking down leads on several kid-hating adult criminals, and I was sure that Dad had to start wondering where his only child could have disappeared to. He was dense for being the fabled Numbuh Zero, but even in his old age and wiped mind, he was able to grasp the finer points of taking care of his prodigy. There was also the fact that I hadn't had a bit of a break for that long either, and while my bed in the tree house was made for me, nothing could ever beat the comforts of your own home.
They say that you can never go home again, and perhaps one day, that will be true. When I truly am fifty, or perhaps sooner. Adults frequently say that youth is wasted on the young. Only more recently have I begun to understand what that statement really means. I think Numbuh Zero helped me to make sense of that, when he was briefly re-commissioned during the Zero incident. It was then that I finally began to appreciate just who my father is and what he means to be. Not just as a founding member of the Kids Next Door, but also as his son. Sometimes, I know that I let him down, don't spend enough time with him. The part of him that is Numbuh Zero can understand--but the man who sired me must be disappointed at times. Someday, some way, I need to make that up to him. But for now, I was coming home, to eat my mother's cooking and to listen to my father's stories, a simple, quiet night away from any other responsibilities.
I should have known when these thoughts began running through my mind that they were destined to be shattered.
Luckily Dad didn't lock the door just yet, which allowed me to simply give a quick turn-and-push into sanctuary. That was something that never really bothered me, even with all those who wanted to see me pushing up daisies underground. Apparently the baddies I'd known had some sort of unspoken law of sorts not to mess with me in my own home... Probably something worked out by my 'uncle' Benedict Uno... FATHER. I put the thought out of my head as fast as it had appeared. Now was not the time for thoughts of work. I was here to rest, recover, and eat some of Mom's cooking. I passed through the living room and heard the rustling of the newspaper being lowered. A quick glance told me Dad had realized I was home, and while weak as it was, I gave him a warm smile to set his heart at ease.
I wasn't certain what I should expect. Presumably, Dad was pleased to see me, but I spent so little of my time at home, that I was likely becoming a stranger to him. I looked at my father sheepishly, announcing my homecoming. "Um...Hi, Dad. I haven't been home in awhile and...And I thought I would check in on how you and Mom were doing." I hoped that my words didn't sound as pathetic to his ears as they did to my own. I tried to take solace in the knowledge that my father is generally good hearted and understanding.
I was rewarded with one of his patented hearty laughs and he stood up to greet me. "Nigel old boy, it's good to see you've finally gotten out of that tree house of yours!" He walked over and gave me a sound thump on my backside, which threw me off-balance for a second. He may not be Numbuh Zero anymore, but he still had his body and strength, which I'd found could rival even some of my stronger enemies. I only wished he could keep it in check more often. "You're in luck; your mother has a fine dinner on the oven right now!" He raised his head and took in a deep breath, as if to accent the point through. "Ahhh, nothing like a fine roast being done, eh son?"
I took in the scent myself and sighed in response. "No Dad, there sure isn't... Can't wait to dive into it..." I gave him a wave and started to slink off. "If you don't mind, I'd like to get a quick shower in before dinner, okay?"
Bathing was not something I took lightly. While many kids shuddered at the idea of taking a bath, I was not one of them. More than once in my tour of duty, there had been petitions by some operatives to declare baths a form of torture by adults. Numbuh Two Seventy-Four had never really addressed the issue when he was in power, and Numbuh Three Sixty-Two had vetoed that notion a few months into her term, declaring that baths, while sometimes unpleasant, were necessary for everyone. After all, if they were so terrible, adults wouldn't take them themselves. Of course this didn't surprise me--it was a closely guarded secret that Rachel has a very deep affinity for bubble baths. She told me once that the bathtub was the only place she could ever be absolutely, positively certain that she wouldn't be barged in on, the only thing in her life that afforded her a little downtime. Me, I was never much for baths. I prefer the invigorating beat of heavy water drops on my forehead, helping to wash away the work of the day. Refreshing for ten or fifteen minutes--get in, get out, but to each their own.
I took hold of the banister and began to move up the stairs, merely a few steps separating me from freedom.
"Oh that's right, I almost forgot!" My father's voice stopped me cold in my tracks. I suppose out of fear that I'd done something wrong, the age-old guilty conscience that all kids shared when their parents stop them. He hadn't found out I'd 'borrowed' the lawnmower for Numbuh Two's experiments, had he? "You had a visitor earlier, son... You know, it isn't polite to invite someone over and then not be there to greet them, you understand?" He sighed and shook his head, letting his shoulders shrug as if that was the saddest thing he'd ever heard. "I thought I'd taught you better than that, Nigel..."
This was something I definitely didn't want to deal with tonight. I raised a hand to protest Dad's commentary, but lowered it like my arm weighed a ton. I wasn't in the mood for this; I'd had too long a day to start something now.
I had had a visitor? It was probably nothing; possibly just one of my teammates checking up on me. After being away on assignment for two days, they had all probably grown concerned that something might have happened to me. That was the problem with accepting black missions. Global Command would refuse to give out any information, even to my team. Until the assignment was completed and I returned, I was handled as though I didn't exist and never had. Even after all these years, the team still hadn't gotten used to it, but then, I don't suppose that I would either if I were one of them.
Sighing to myself, I decided to let my father win a battle. "I'm sorry, dad, it must have slipped my mind. I'll try to be more considerate next time. Who was it that came by?"
He tapped his cheek in thought for a few seconds, but ended up tilting his head in confusion. "You know... She really didn't say... She said something about you and her being very good friends and all; I thought she was another one of your 'Backdoor Squad' companions or something like that." I groaned to myself at the misunderstanding, shuffling through my memory as to who that could have been. I knew plenty of women in my lifetime, could one of them finally gotten the gall to track me down? What could they want from me now?
"She's still upstairs, you know? Said she didn't mind waiting at all... I say Nigel, you really do have some fine friends, to be able to be so patient for so long... I hadn't heard a peep out of her ever since she went in your room."
She went into my room? This began to set off several alarms in my mind. It could easily be a trap, some girl I'd wronged or worse, one of my enemies, trying to lull me into a false sense of security on my own turf. What if I had been about to walk into an ambush? Perhaps there was still plenty of Numbuh Zero in my dad after all--he may have just inadvertently saved my life. "She's been waiting...all this time? Honestly, dad, I can't think of any girl I know that would be so patient, no matter how good a friend she is." It was a true statement--even Lizzie wouldn't have waited so long for me during our best days. This could definitely prove disastrous. Who knows what I might now be blackmailed for?! I needed to get this situation resolved, and quickly.
"Well this one seems to be a fine one, if I may say so... You really must treat your friends' better son, they won't be around forever, you know..." Dad nodded to himself and sighed as he walked away and into the kitchen. I wondered for a moment just how many friends he lost because of his involvement in the Kids Next Door. The organization allowed you to meet so many people, all around the world... only to take them away at the age of thirteen. It was a true sin to give someone so much to experience and then take it away...
But that was something to think about for another day; what was important now was finding out just who decided to pay me a 'how-do-you-do' and WHY.
I trudged up the stairs slowly, wondering to myself just how many people in my life I would no longer know after coming of age. Many people say that we all have to go sometime. We can't help growing up; it's just another part of life. That's still true today--but scientists in the Kids Next Door are working diligently to find a way to stop our aging. Maybe one day, they'll succeed.
I reached the top of the stairs, and turned towards my bedroom. Spilling out from the crack beneath my closed door, there was a very small radiance of light, like the kind you would see from a television or perhaps the moon on a clear night. I knew then that I needed to be ready for anything. It didn't make sense that my visitor hadn't been waiting downstairs. Something had to be going on, and I intended to find out.
I hated the feeling of knowing there was a trap lying in wait for me and lacking the ability of doing anything about it. That sort of thing was enough to drive the hairs on my body to stand on end, nerves on high alert; stress that I certainly didn't need threatening to burst my veins. Damnit, I was supposed to be relaxing by now, this shouldn't be happening to me!
I carefully placed hands on the front of my door; one on the knob and the other on the center. I could feel the vibrations of the inside, a sort of sixth sense that people like me gained awhile on the job that while it made no sense, gave you the extra advantage in tight situations. It was sad that I had to use it in my own house, getting into my own room.
Something about those vibrations set me on edge. Not the kind of feeling I usually had when I was about to walk into danger, but rather, more like a general uneasiness. Someone was waiting for me, rather diligently, but I didn't fear being pounced on by an unforeseen enemy. No, this was going to be a direct confrontation. I forced myself to relax just a touch as my hand grasped the doorknob and began to twist. I was still ready to either stand my ground or flee. Perhaps it would be Lizzie, wanting some measure of penance from me. Who else would wait this long? Cautiously, I pushed open my bedroom door and waited to find out exactly what was going on.
The slight creaking of the door didn't do much for my stealth, although if someone were waiting for me, they would've heard my earlier conversation and wised up. A first glance didn't reveal anything out of the ordinary, though. It was my room, simple as that; just like I'd left it days ago. A second look, however, gave way to slight changes that left me confused to say the least. There were a few differences that caught my attention; shoes at the side of my doorway, clothing atop my chair, creases atop my bedspread. Someone had partaken of the delights of my room and I didn't care for it to say the least. My steps inside were featherweight, large strong strides of breath that would barely register as sounds. My eyes kept watch for anything that could strike at me from the sides as I made my way to the bed, and whatever lie in wait for me apparently wanted it to be as such, giving me the benefit of the doubt as to what lie in wait for me.
Something odd was going on. I let my gaze drift back to the foreign shoes. They were generic and white, suggesting a female presence. But if that were the case, then why had the clothes in my wardrobe drawers been disturbed? It wasn't as though my outfits would look good on a girl; whoever she was, she seemed to have availed herself of everything, including the master bathroom. But why would any girl bother visiting me at this hour? Something ugly must've happened; I was sure of it and I needed to draw out the truth.
The clothes on the chair supported my theory and I took measure of the sweater that lie on the back of the fake wood as if it was always there. It was lightweight, light blue; something you certainly wouldn't see on an average boy. A hoodie lay in my seat, crumpled orange and brown like a tiger crouched to strike on its prey. I knew this outfit, I knew this character, but I couldn't jump to conclusions... could I? The thought came to me as if it were foreign, odd, perverted; I took the sweater by the collar, brought it to my face. I didn't know why I did what I did, but I did it; I inhaled the scent embedded in the fabric, as if I were a professional tracker.
The outfit could have been faked, but there was no mistaking the aroma. Her security was too good for the genuine article to find its way here without her consent or knowledge. It filled my nostrils with too much promise, making me practically gasp at the realization. It had been some time since I had seen her, and of all the girls in my life, she was by far the best. The allure was only intensified by the fact that I had not given into her advances, no matter how much temptation was always there. There was something about her that seemed forbidden and dangerous, and that only made me want her all the more. And if only she didn't know that, I might be able to stand up to her a little better. Already, I could feel my heartbeat increasing. I knew she was bad for me, but all the same, I wanted to see her again. An all too lecherous grin spread across my face as I inhaled her intoxicating scene one more time, clutching her discarded clothing in my hand. Perhaps this time, I was going to see everything she had to offer. An overpowering attempt to seduce me.
"You know, if I didn't know you better, I'd say that's creepy." Her voice cut into me, swift and sharp as a blade fresh from the smith. I looked back at her and my brain simply switched off. She wore nothing but a simple white towel, her hair still slightly wet and half-matted to her body. The towel clung tightly to her frame and I wished for nothing more than for the winds of fate to blow forth and relieve her of her terrycloth dress. "What's the matter, Nigel Uno? You seem surprised with me..."
Once or twice, in the still of night when I was alone and feeling lonely, I have entertained some fantasies about the stunning young girl I had the distinct pleasure of reporting to. I knew in that moment that none of them would ever be able to satisfy me again. She was indescribably beautiful standing before me, but that description failed so miserably at doing her justice. While I had always admired Rachel, finding her attractive on a spiritual level that was hard to pin down, I had never realized just how attractive she was until now. She had always been pleasing to the eye, with a graceful smile and gently rounded cheeks, but I had never realized the extent of her physical charms until now. I stood transfixed, watching errant droplets of water drip invitingly from her bangs, rolling down her cheeks and neck in disappearing from sight beneath the invitingly virgin white of the fabric, where untold promises of heaven waited. These were my most coherent thoughts, the rest of my mind was too busy issuing me orders to silently pick her up as a bride and carry her into my bed for hours, days, until we could both be sated. I've known lust in my life--overcome it, reveled in it, used it upon others to when necessary. But for the first time in a long time, I felt something stirring within me, and I watched her transfixed, knowing I would never love again the way I did her.
She simply walked by me, obviously amused by my glassy eyes, moving across the carpet as if she were floating on air. "Forgive me for stealing your bathroom, Nigel..." She spoke both as if she were a visitor in my abode and as if she was the one living in our house. It was confusing to remember which it truly was, especially considering my current state of mind. "But I hadn't had a decent bath in weeks. You know how much I hate not having a good bath." It was a statement more so than a question, but I couldn't help but nod to her in response; a useless gesture as she wasn't even looking my way. She had walked across the room to my drawers and decided to partake of my clothing, throwing random shirts and such this way-and-that.
All I had to do was touch her. Slip up from behind and put my arms around her. Tell her that I wasn't going to disappear anymore. Speak to her, damn you! Why must you be so proud? For once in your life, take something that's in front of you. There has to be more to life than what you've been doing, Uno. She
has it, and she wants you to share it. I forced myself to say something, anything, desperately trying to communicate. A series of failed attempts came out of my mouth. Finally, giving up on speech, I maneuvered myself beside her at my dresser. I reached out and gently fingered tresses of her matted blonde hair, moving them to the back of her head. "I...heard you've been waiting...waiting for me..."
Her hands continued to shuffle through my clothing, even though the rest of her body froze at my touch. She tilted her head back slightly, placing more of her moist hair in my hand. "I have been." She took a deep breath and clutched the pieces of clothing in her left hand tighter. "You... shouldn't keep people waiting like that, either." She chuckled at the words she'd stolen from my father, and the vibrations felt weird to my skin, her hair giving me shivers of my own. Her right hand came up to the folds of the towel, and she clutched it as if she were holding a switch of sorts, the towel already loosening at first touch. "You should turn away now." She spoke as if making a suggestion instead of a request, and it was then that the silken hand of temptation clenched further on my heart once more.
Regret stabbed me in the chest at her words. How long have I kept her waiting? Perhaps only a few hours tonight...but years when I added everything up. She didn't care about rules when it came to us, and yet I refused to give them up? Why couldn't I be more flexible? Why couldn't I make her happy just once? "I...don't want to." It took me several moments to realize that it was I who had spoken. But it was the truth, I didn't want to. And despite my conflicting desires to uphold a stupid rule and my aching to hold onto her tighter, I did nothing, making no effort to retreat or advance. It was either great progress or great foolishness. But deep down, I knew that I owed this to her. After so many years of quiet waiting on her part, she deserved some measure of surrender, some assurance that I wasn't such a bastard. I would spurn such a pleading advance, she deserved better than unfulfilled fantasies and broken promises.
She barely had to turn her head, eyes unlocked from their gaze on the stolen garments, in order to stare at me. There didn't seem to be any discerning expression in her stare either, neither it being hurt or pleasant or angry. It was a simple stare, one of which I didn't like seeing on her. But it was her response that truly threw me off track.
"Fair enough."
Those two words were more than necessary to send my body into paralysis and I no longer knew what to expect. But then, in none of my fantasies had the object of my desire ever been so bold, be it in matters professional or private. I blinked absently in response to her simple words, not knowing how else to react. I remained rooted in place, my mind fumbling for something to say that wouldn't completely ruin the moment. "I...I'm sorry to have made you wait." It was lame and pathetic, a lackluster apology when combined with her mere presence. A part of me was saddened at how badly she must suffer at my hands. Enduring being so close to me on these rare occasions that we meet and never getting more than disappointment. How many times has she begged me with her eyes not to ignore her anymore? And how many times have I refused to meet those lovely orbs, knowing that I could only deny her if I looked away until she gave up. I have never been good to her, and I'll probably go right on being bad to her, disappointing her, breaking her. I had to give her some kind of hope...give myself something to come home to. "Forgive me but...you are lovely..."
"I... understand, Nigel..." The towel escaped from her hand at that point, and my heart stopped as the cloth hit the ground. "I know that I'm... attractive..." The word sounded foreign coming out of her mouth, and I wondered right there if she really believed it for herself. She shivered, the terrycloth not providing any warmth to her naked frame anymore. I couldn't help but stare, naturally, as it was something that seemed to exist in only my deepest, darkest fantasies. "I wonder, though..." She raised her hands above her head, and I felt my eyes widen in response.
There is such a thing as beauty in the world, and if you're lucky, you have a few chances to see it in life. I have met more girls than I can ever remember, and each of them had a different look, some more appealing physically, others in spirit or personality. Some unattractive, some plain, some seductive, and all manner of degrees in between. But none of them, all past conquests included, compared to her. They never could. Rachel did not have the kind of beauty that made you turn your head clean around and spit out your soda. She was too real for that, too...lovely. She was herself, through and through. And now she stood before me, offering me everything that she was, the way no other girl ever had, not even the ones that claimed to love me. But they could never understand like she did. She asked nothing in return, no matter how much she wanted. She would never ask, never beg. Whether it was a matter of pride or principle, I didn't know. But I wouldn't ignore her. Did she question her beauty? I wanted her to know how foolish that was. Or maybe it wasn't beauty that worried her. With herculean effort, I forced my eyes too cease their relentless appraisal of her body and look into her own instead. And it was only then that I understood, as she nervously spread her arms, her beautiful eyes running from mine whenever I tried to meet them. It was not that she was ashamed of her body. She was afraid of disappointing me. "You could never..." I whispered, reaching for her arms. "I could never prefer another to you."
She stepped away from me then, and I then began to pull a shirt over her head, her breaths running long and narrow. She seemed to struggle with words then, as if something was caught in her throat. She must have suffered the same virus I had just a moment ago. Her back arched as the shirt came over her body, and I felt my heart soften at this. "You know just what to say, Nigel... You always have known... How to make me feel much better." I could feel her smile from behind her back, and she bent over to step into her next article of clothing. My body felt feint, unknowing of whether to send the limited amounts of blood to my head or my pants.
A low whimper escaped my throat as she pulled a cruelly small pair of shorts up her legs, intentionally taking as long as possible before her illegally shaped hips were at last hidden from view, yet still extremely discernible. Finally, I wrapped my arms around her torso, clutching her to me so she would know how appreciative I was of her gesture, of her. "I'm sorry..." I suddenly whispered, not knowing why I suddenly felt so fragile when she was the one who had shared so much. "I shouldn't be so terrible to you."
She stiffened slightly before relaxing, placing a hand atop of my own."You shouldn't apologize, Nigel." The fact that she remained strong and firm now while I felt weak and fragile was a testament to the strength of her heart and soul. "You've done your duty, Nigel, and I... All I've done is support this fact." She breathed a deep, silent sigh and I couldn't help but wonder that I hadn't made things even more badly than they were before. She took a step away, out of my hold, and I now felt to be the one who was cold; One who was now naked without any such clothing to shield me. "But this isn't the time... This is something to be saved..." She turned back to me, and I couldn't help but notice a slight glaze in her eyes. They had taken a more...I didn't know, I couldn't place the emotion so simply...
There were tears in her eyes, tears she would not let fall, but I may never know if it was for my sake or hers. I felt a sense of shame was over me. How must she feel? It had taken nothing less than complete exposure on her part just to make me take notice of her the way she wanted to. Nothing had changed, I was still the same insensitive bastard, and she was still my commanding officer. Losing that physical contact with her had drained me of everything, and had I been any more defeated, I would have knelt before her. But I knew that if I reduced myself to that, she would never forgive me. I try to do right by her in my own way, but all I ever do is cause her pain. Why does she continue to tolerate me?
"You could never hurt me, Nigel..." She tried to rub the liquid from her eyes, failing as she blinked rapidly in response. "You've done so much, kept your friends safe, kept the world safe... and me. All I've done is hurt people, made decisions that could've killed us all if not for you." She took in a large breath, and I could literally see her containing her emotions. This was something that I never encouraged, and yet knew she couldn't do without. I could always tell when she was bottling her emotions up, going into her 'commander mode'. But this was different, there was something lacking... The air of authority she kept when she was usually like this was missing. So why, what...? "You deserve better, don't you Nigel?"
"Are you really going to start berating yourself because you've made some mistakes?" I knew that she did these things. I've always known, ever since we first met; she has always blamed herself for every failure, punished herself for them endlessly, always striving to be perfect. It's one of the things I find so endearing about her. It still amazes me how the girl could torture herself so; a woman so tall and so elegant, calm and calculating, beautiful and strong. All I have ever wanted is for her to be happy, the first time I met her; I sensed her inner sadness and just wanted to see her smile once. A smile that wasn't forced. But I can only make her suffer more. She holds back for me, so she doesn't become too real to me. I keep her at arm's length, always telling her that I'm her friend, no matter what it does to her heart. I don't give a damn about my own, I cut it out long ago, it's necessary in my line of work. Just once, I would like to find the courage to touch her, to hold her, to tell her that I'll always be here. Just once in her life, she deserves to have Sir Galahad come charging in to rescue her from all the demons and fears pinning her down. It should be me. But in spite of everything, I know that I'm going to lose her someday.
"It's my duty to take responsibility for what happens... Heheh, duty..." She held the word on her tongue as she raised her head up towards the ceiling, shuddering from some unknown sensation. For a moment, I thought she was going to be sick, but after a moment I could hear sounds coming from her throat. Was she... chuckling? I got my answer as she almost exploded with laughter and I took a step back in shock and confusion. "Duty... More like a curse..." She brought a hand back to her eyes and her pose couldn't have been more perfect; she may have become the epiphany of insanity, pouring her heart out like that, but she looked absolutely seductive and passionate dressed as she was. "I'm a cursed woman, Nigel. Does that not intimidate you?" She tilted her head my way, and I could see myself in her eyes; her smile gave me chills in so many different ways.
"You're not cursed, Rachel. God only knows, the whole world is. Have you ever frightened me away before?" I grasped her hand despite her initial protests, lacing my fingers within hers firmly. "When everything else falls apart, when everyone else falls away, all I have is you. And that's something I'm never willing to give up. I'm not letting go of you. So if you insist on being cursed...then you're just going to have to curse me too." There are few moments in life where you can see something that is truly beautiful. And if this was to be my last, I wanted it to stretch on forever. I have never met a woman that can simultaneously appear intimidating, seductive, unstable, and vulnerable. And never have I wanted her more than I do now. "If your duty is a curse, then I'll be your cure." I whispered, fingering her hair with my free hand, though she flinched at my touch, shaking. "I'm not afraid of you, Rachel."
She shuddered at my touch, trembled at my words, shaken by my actions; she was one hundred percent out-of-it, and for a slight moment, I thought I had finally gotten to her. "You... want my curse...?" She let the words escape her lips, but not her mind, and I saw her float around in her own mind as if she were contemplating something as important as the cure for broccoli poisoning. "You've always known just what to say to me... But..." Her fingers tightened their hold on my hand, and some deep part of me flared up in a full red alert. "This time you don't know what you're saying..." She pulled my arm closer, pulled me closer to her with her sudden magnetic flare, and I felt my body tense in automatic response. "You're willing to sacrifice yourself to save me... But I'll damn you, Numbah One." She caught me from crashing into her with her very fingernails, lightweight pins on my throat, surrounding my Adam's apple. "You can save me from my nightmares, but who'll save you when they come for you?" She flexed her hand in random spurts and the sensations almost drove me to my knees. What had I just unleashed?
Everything about her was intoxicating and dramatic, purposeful and uncontrolled. And despite the amount of fear she was trying to instill in me, with a modest amount of success, I have to admit...it was also everything I wanted. "Saving you is my only priority. All other concerns are secondary..." I whispered carefully, very aware of the feel of her nails against the tender flesh of my throat, but I would not retreat. "...but your mistake is that you're laboring under the delusion that I want to be saved." It seemed an awfully bold thing to say, even for me. This was a tall order to fill, but I couldn't take the risk of losing her forever. "If you're going to crazy, then you'll have to take me with you. I'm not letting go." In that moment, I had no idea what to expect. All I knew for certain was that this had been coming for her, for a long time now. There was too much bottled up inside of her to stop until she was completely deflated, like a giant balloon full of emotions, flying around the room as the air had been let out of it. She was close enough now to feel all my signs of life. I would have gulped, but I dared not flinch. She might be the end of me, but I wanted her closer still. If she was going mad, then I needed to experience it with her and give her someone to hold onto. Perhaps my most important mission ever--though she would never willingly assign it to me.
I didn't realize how close we'd gotten to the wall until she provoked me, prodding me with slight nudges and pushes of her nails on my throat and our connected hands. My back came upon the flat surface and I was trapped like a rat by a cat with a very large appetite. "You still don't understand the risk..." She whispered aloud and she pulled her hand free of mine; she brought her face to my neck in response, and her hot breath on my flesh was exhilarating. "You're too naive to know the risk you put on yourself..." Her hands apparently disliked any sort of freedom, as her now-free hand quickly snaked its way underneath my shirt. I took to the sensation like a duck to water. I was becoming addicted to this, I could feel it, like a child with his first piece of candy; it was warm and sweet as ambrosia but for the mind as well as the body. "I'm so weak, I can't let you do this, but I need this..." I could tell she wasn't speaking to me, maybe to herself; her doubts, her ghosts, her skeletons. She laid a kiss upon the crook of my jaw and I swear I left a puddle of sweat and desires on the plaster behind me. "I didn't come here just for this, Nigel." She whispered behind my ear now. "I didn't come here just because I wanted you. I came because I needed you." Her fingers danced in a smooth waltz along my chest, and she could've told me anything at that point, and I would've believed her.
I was still unaccustomed to these sensations. I'd had girls before, but I had always been the one to lead. Every time she touched me, I gasped a little, perhaps from the added excitement that I had no way of knowing what she would do next. I could feel all of her. Her hands wandering across my chest and abdomen, her breath hot and needing over my neck and face, that lovely scent of cinnamon she carried filling my nostrils, begging for more. "If I'm what you need..." I struggled to swallow amid the overpowering sensations she was bombarding me with. "...then let me serve you. You can't take what already belongs to you." I wanted that passion in her eyes. She was a mess of emotions, and her hair had become a corona that would envelop us both within its heat. I no longer cared what happened to me. I had a mission now, and I would not stop until it was complete. "You can't get rid of me so easily...sir." Using her title now seemed a little cruel, but I had to guarantee that reaction out of her. I was the only person she could threaten like this, the only chance she had to hold onto some measure of sanity, the only person she could break down in front of and unleash all her emotions with.
"I would hope not, Uno." The nails that were earlier caressing my throat had now migrated to the back of my neck, teasing just the right points to get the fullest sensations to travel through my nervous system. "I know that you are capable of so much, I'd hate to see you break now, just when I'm getting started." She pulled me like a mistress leading her pet for a walk, dragging me along the wall, and we came to rest along the bed. She laid herself along my side, one leg lying off the bed while the other curled up along my torso; the shorts she had picked out were old, far too small for me to have worn at my age, and they had practically merged with her body at this point. The light blue clothing had ridden up high, showing off so much skin that I had wondered why she had even bothered with them in the first place. She had the legs of a dancer, a gymnast, even; she could dance along the moonlight with the lightest of steps and walk along the clearest pools of water, weaving silken threads along the waves. Those legs now wove those bonds around my body as hard as steel and it would take a miracle to be able to break free. "There's something you need to do for me... For the organization..." She spoke as if it were the last thing on her mind, distracting herself with her life-sized toy. "If you do this, I promise I'll give you just what you deserve... No more games, no playing around, just you and me."
My senses pricked up, the dichotomy of her physical actions and her words intriguing me. People could say what they wished about her--and many frequently did when they thought no one was looking, but she had a body that was as unique as it was alluring. Having peeked into her personnel profile on more than one occasion, I had learned that she had never had a real significant other throughout her KND tenure. A few passing fancies here and there, but nothing concrete. Were I younger, I might've remained curious as to how a novice such as herself could possibly know about pleasing someone like me. But it was here that her file betrayed her--Numbuh Three Sixty Two had been the greatest spy in the KND, the de facto head of Intelligence in her field ops days. And seduction would be just one of the many skills she had mastered to have gotten so far. I had to admit, so far it was working with flying colors.
Those shorts, looking much better on her than they ever had on me, had been hiked sufficiently so as to leave nothing to the imagination, and I was able to see not only how appealing these endless legs of hers could be when she chose, I considered my current predicament and knew that I wanted her to use them on me--even being crushed to death betwixt them would be a pleasant way to go. I wasted no time in seizing my chance, using my current leverage to run my fingers along the arches of her feet, slowly dragging them up her calves and around her knee, following the curve without pause and continuing well up into her thigh, giving as good as I was receiving. "How can I serve you?" I asked in a low breath, working her thigh at a quicker pace.
Her breath caught in her throat and she shivered in delight, there was no way of hiding it; she wanted this just as badly as I did, and I wanted to indulge her appetite more than anything in the world. She quickly regained her focus, the look of sheer ecstasy on her face becoming one of malicious intent. She overcame me then, pinned me down with her hands on my wrists and her powerful legs on the keystones of my lower body. "There's a list that's missing from Global KND..." Her voice had become a low, seductive whisper... The best way to get ANY man to pay attention; she could've talked to me about wood shavings in that voice, and I wouldn't forget a single word for two months. "A very... special list, that speaks of our more promising recruits..." She leaned forward and my hormone-addled mind started playing tricks on me. Her hair encompassed my face and the scent of her shampoo and natural odor practically had me seeing beyond the Ridiculous Barrier. "I need that list back, Nigel. I can't let it fall into the wrong hands." Had she just licked my ear, or was my brain finally started imagining things that I wanted her to do to me? "You get me that list back, and my hands will be free..." She freed a wrist in order to dip down and drag fingernails about my waistline. I swear I felt my soul start to leave my body at that sensation. "...to do with as we please..."
Her change in attitude towards me was not going unnoticed. While she had been set on seduction overdrive since I first laid eyes on her today...it was not anything like our previous meetings. I reported to her frequently, and while there was never a lack of sexual tension between us, a delicate dance of advance and retreat, but this was entirely different. This time, there were no longer barriers between us, no pretense of professionalism to fall back on. I was genuinely wanted by her, and how she wanted me to want her back. While my imagination had never been weak in the past, it was now beginning to conjure up some very intense and intimate ideas. I was suddenly aware of every aspect of her presence. Her hair tickled the bridge of my nose, tenderly enveloping my scalp. The invigorating heat of her breath in my ear produced shivers in my spine, and my lips demanded to taste hers before agreeing to do anything. Her slender fingers played with the waistline of my shorts, her nails digging into my softer flesh, demanding to be acknowledged. She had more than a hundred percent of my attention--distraction was no longer even a possibility.
"I don't know who will be coming after you." She stated with a serious tone. "I'm sure that word of this has already gotten out to our enemies." She placed a kiss on my cheek, and my face flared up heat. "If you do this, you can't mess up, not in the slightest bit. It's not like with the cakes." I knew she didn't mean to bring up that unhealed wound, but I could tell she was serious with this mission. "If you slip up, it could mean your life... You can't die." She said it like she had the absolute say in the matter. "You can't die, not before we-" She stopped at that, and I wondered for a moment just what she was going to finish that sentence with.
I wanted to move more than anything, to crush my lips against hers and draw the answers out of her. It didn't matter what her words sounded like in my head. I had to hear it from her own lips to dare to dream. "I won't die on you." I whispered, a bit of sadness overtaking my heart. "But to give me a mission now of all times?" Clearly she couldn't see my discomfort, how strongly my body was reacting to her advances. "Don't send me away now..." Pleading normally wasn't in my nature, but I failed to see how I had any other choice here. "I need to stay with you..."
She shook her head in dismay. "I've indulged in my greed enough already... If we wait any further, than who knows who could get their hands on it?" I felt a tear trickle down my cheek, and I almost couldn't look at her cry. "If I could, I would keep you with me; let this wait until we've gotten things off our chest." She shook her head once more, and she gave me the most beautiful smile I've ever seen. "But we have our duties... You've let me be greedy more than enough. I can't thank you enough for that."
"You're thanking me?" This was starting to not make sense. "I'm the one that should be thanking you, for all the years..." My voice trailed off, and I unsuccessfully tried to suppress a shudder. A part of me began to grow physically frustrated. "Did you really wind me up this tight just to give me a mission?" I hated the idea of having her so close and being unable to call her my own. There was little in my life worth keeping record of, just mission reports that get filed away for eternity, a few simple belongings, but nothing significant. Rachel, however, was something I wanted to carry with me at all times. But being dismissed was a tremendous disappointment; my heart was already beating double time thanks to her efforts. "There's not a greedy bone in your body, love..." I couldn't understand her change in attitude.
"There is... for wanting this much from you. I had to have this, I couldn't hold back any longer, and you suffered because of it." Her arms came up, freed my hands completely from her bond. She now leaned on them, taking my face in her hands. "If anything, I can give you this... Something we've been holding back forever now... A bit of incentive to speed you on your way."
I needed no further prompting to coax her onward. She leaned into me, delicate nose touching mine gently, and I tilted my head, giving her much easier access. I felt as though I might cry when her lips finally met mine; they felt soft, warm, and deceptively innocent. She tasted like the first bit of warn Dutch Apple pie, and I spurred her onwards, encouraging her to explore as I wanted her to. Without thinking, I flipped Rachel onto her back, forcing her to redouble her efforts. I gasped at the sensation of her hot breath mingling with mine, and I jammed my thumbs into her shoulder blades, massaging her sensitive skin.
I could feel so much pressure being released from her as we kissed, and I couldn't help but indulge in that forbidden desire. My tongue probed the gates of her lips and she acknowledged my request with gusto, meeting my own and mingling tastes. Her hands wandered back and forth over my back and rear end, and I honestly wished that time would stop and this moment would never end. She pulled me closer to her, and I struggled not to lose control and bring my full weight upon her. She shuddered and I could feel her coo through my own lips, her moans sending me to a whole new level of happiness.
Too many years had passed for me, too many brief romances that lacked emotion, passion, risk. I wanted to curse myself for not insisting on her sooner. My first and best destiny; the only girl who could ever know me, inside and out. She probed me without fear now, her tongue gently stroking my own, conveying her own pleasures. Without even thinking, I immediately began to thread her hair through the fingers of my left hand, stroking it continuously. My right hand busied itself with her left shoulder, tugging at the fabric and kneading her flesh with my fingers. I felt her mewing approvals and continued on feverishly, determined to claim this girl as my birthright.
She struggled against my ministrations, and I could only gain more fuel from the sensations she gave to me. A dam had been unbarred between the both of us, and we'd be damned if we'd be stopped now. My hand slipped from her shoulder to her breast, and I couldn't help but give a light squeeze as an automatic response to my actions. But I'd done it now, I could feel it, her body suddenly conveyed what I could only describe as a big red warning light. I'd pressed my luck now, and I could feel her struggle against me in an attempt to stop. It honestly took everything I had to release her lips from mine, but it became so; I fell backwards on the bed, and she rose up, clenching her chest as if she'd almost drowned in our lust. Her eyes were unfocused and blind to the world as she gazed up at the ceiling, and her face only made me want to jump back in and finish what we'd so foolishly started.
"I'm sorry, I...that was crass of me." Stupid, stupid move, Uno. She had been yours for the taking, ready to give you anything, ready to offer you what she would give no one else, and you just had to rush it. You had to act like an ass and take advantage of her. "I just...I don't like the idea of...of barriers between us. I don't want there to be anything that comes between us anymore." I panted as I caught my breath, trying to make up for my mistake. Her lovely eyes were staring at me, open and bewildered. "I want all of you, Rachel. I want to hold onto you, kiss you senseless, and feel your skin..." I sighed, thinking of how exceptional her soft, silky flesh would feel, her shoulder I could already vouch for, a perfect masterpiece, and her slender fingers felt so nice when laced with my own. "I don't want to take the chance of losing my time with you, of missing my chance."
-
The Book Of Love is long and boring
And no one can lift the damn thing
It's full of charts and facts and figures
And instructions for dancing
But I......
I love it when you sing to me
And you......
You can sing me anything
The Book Of Love has music in it
Some say that's where music comes from
Some of it's just transcendental
Some of it's just really dumb
But I......
I love it when you sing to me
And you.......
You can sing me anything
The Book Of Love is long and boring
And written very long ago
It's full of flowers and heart-shaped boxes
And things we're much too young to know
But I.......
I love it when you give me things
And you......
You ought to give me wedding rings
And I.....
I love it when you give me things
And you.....
You ought to give me wedding rings
You ought to give me
Wedding rings
She stretched out her arm at me, and for a second, I was hopeful that she would crawl back to me along the ocean of bed sheets and we could continue what we had begun just moments ago. But her fingers began to twitch in resistance, and as she pulled her arm back to her chest, I found my hopes dashed and reality came crushing back to meet us. "I know that, Nigel... and if I could, I would let the world damn itself just for this moment. But..." She lowered her head in what I figured to be grief. "We can't afford to have our way all the time... We have to do our duty, it's... our..." She choked on the words, and I wanted to hold her tight, put her heart at rest.
"You are my only duty, my only care. All other concerns are secondary to you, Rachel. And I won't leave you at a time like this." Every part of me wanted to reach out and touch her again, but she looked so fragile, I was afraid she would squirm and flinch. "I've spent too many years doing what I thought was my duty, putting every mission before myself and anyone I cared about. I had to find out the hard way what that ends up costing. And it isn't worth it. I've lost too much. And the world can damn itself, for all I care. I won't leave you alone anymore." It was romantic and foolish, perhaps idealistic and silly, but I meant every word. The allure of her body could never compete with the breaking of her heart, not with me. All I wanted was to wrap her within my arms and coax the tears out of her. She needed the release, to be able to break down, it was the only way she could stay strong the rest of the time. "Never once have we had our way. And if I've saved the world as many times as you claim...then it owes me one." There was a little mirth in my voice at that, but I was banking on her loving me for it.
Her head tilted to one side, and she gave me a smile that could've melted glass. "That's what I love about you, Nigel Uno. You think and speak with your heart..." A hand came up to clench at her chest, and I flinched with resistance, the urge to take her to arms and rub her shoulders nearly too much to control. "I love that you have that freedom about you, Nigel... it shows how strong a person you are. But that's where we differ, too." She shook her head and her look started to go south. "I don't have that privilege anymore... It's not that I don't want this no, far from it... But I just can't let my feelings take full command yet, not when there are so many innocents that can be hurt because we were selfish for one night..."
She began to reach out to me with her clenched fist and the sight of her fingers beginning to unfold was like watching a butterfly escape from its cocoon. By the Book, I had truly fallen for this woman, hadn't I?
"This job has me... programmed, is the best word, I suppose. I can't think, can't act for myself without wondering who might be hurt in the process... It burns, Numbuh One... It's burned me out and just look at me now..."
"When I look at you, all I see is the most beautiful girl in the entire KND, not to mention the most earnest and the most intelligent. And if you have burned yourself out so much, then this is the only cure." I felt an intense sadness at the way she was carrying herself. Like she had gambled her last dollar and lost, like she no longer had purpose. I wanted to see her beautiful eyes shine again. "You deprive yourself of everything in life and it has gotten you nothing. No matter how hard you try, no matter how much you sacrifice; no matter what you deny yourself, there will always be losses. There will be consequences. Life will go on." I took her hands in mine, hoping to reach her somehow. "You've come all this way by denying yourself everything that makes you happy, and it's brought you nothing but despair. For once in your life, do something for yourself. Don't push me away when you need me most."
"... Nigel..." Her eyes struggled with mine, and I could feel her tearing herself apart through them. "I... Please... Please don't make me do this..." She started to lean forward again and caught herself in spite of such. She kept doing it again and again, and it drove me insane that even now when she was so close to happiness, she's put others in front of herself. "Just do this for me... I'm begging you..."
"No." I felt a burning sensation in my throat as I said the word, knowing that it might tear her apart. But she left me with no choice. I had to force her to do something selfish, to want something for herself and take it. "I'm not going to do it for you. You're in charge. You have to issue the orders. The orders to yourself to do something you deserve."
Her silence was deafening, to the sheer point of insanity. It was the turning point of the night, and it was her decision as to the short or long road to salvation. She slid off the bed and stood facing the window. I couldn't help but grip my sheets in tension, the lump in my throat threatening to burst out in an attempt to give my lungs the air I'd been keeping from them. "Nigel..." She started, the preverbal needle being dropped. I gave my full attention, and she turned her neck slightly in order to look back at me. Her face was neither sad nor angry... full of indifference, and I thought that was truly the saddest thing in the world. "You have your mission. Don't let yourself be stopped for anyone or anything." Her voice was firm and strong, but I could tell easily what she was saying underneath those words.
'Forgive me, Nigel.'
I looked at her, the moonlight from beyond the window reflecting of her blonde hair and creamy skin, slightly more pale than usual. Why was I not surprised to learn that she hadn't been taking care of herself? And after hearing her words, I felt something for Rachel that I have never felt before. Disappointment. "You just couldn't do it, could you? You couldn't once do something for yourself. I suppose that I shouldn't be surprised. I really have tried with you, tried to make your life better, tried to give you an hour or two where you could actually be a kid again. But I should have known better. You're too damn busy writing and starring in your own tragedy to take what's right in front of you." I felt betrayed. Maybe I had been. By her? By my expectations? All I knew was that I felt terrible inside, wanted to hold her more than anything, but she made it so difficult, never realizing what seeing her like this did to me inside, an arm's reach away, able to heal all her pain, yet she'd rather push me away and suffer.
The pain was out in the open now, and she shook with what I could guess was rage and sadness. "Its... it's..." She struggled with the words for a moment before she let them explode from her lips. "It's called responsibility, Nigel!" She leaned forward and screamed at me. I don't think she was thinking at this point though, the night's adventures wearing her down to the point where I was afraid she'd finally break down. "Why can't you try it once in your life and just grow up!?" The last two words stung me like poisoned bullets and she let her hands clasp to her mouth in embarrassment. What good would that do now? Did she have more to say that she found were better kept behind those pink lips of hers?
"I'm plenty responsible to my team, and even more so to you! I just haven't decided to take it to adult levels!" I couldn't be certain, but I think there were tears in my eyes as I began spelling it out for her. "Don't lecture me about responsibilities when you're perfectly willing to abdicate them when it comes to me. You claim to love me, claim to need me, and I want nothing more than to accept your love and offer you my own, to offer everything I have become to you. But you forget all those things now when they're a little less convenient. You would send me away when you're falling apart in front of me. I don't want to come home and find you gone for good. I'm not going to leave you alone when you need me so much. Run me down if you must, try to drive me away, but I care about you more than you know."
I'm still not truly sure when things took such a drastic turn for the worst. All I know is that we started out on the best of terms, perhaps the best night of my life. Now apparently we had ended up on opposite ends of the spectrum, no closer to happiness than when we had begun. Goddamnit, how long were we going to have to go through this bull? She lowered her head and kept looking out the window. I think she was done with me, or maybe she didn't know what to say anymore. I wanted nothing more than to make her happy, but what good would it be if she wasn't willing to take the steps herself?
"I won't leave Nigel. I can promise you that, at least." She finally managed to croak out. "Just... just..."
"Well, that's something, I suppose..." I tried to relent a little, to help defuse our situation. Why did she try to hide from me? Why was she drifting so far away after all we had shared? And it was then that I realized that it was her I needed to get the answers from. I went to the window, behind where she stood, and insisted she share the truth with me. I looked into Rachel's face, which looked red and puffy, as though she were crying to herself. "Why?" I asked, knowing I had to force the explanation out of her. "Why?" Her only response was a sniffle, and how I knew she wanted me to leave her alone. "Why?" I began to repeat myself more forcefully, not allowing her to ignore me. "Why? Why? Why do you insist on doing these horrible things to yourself?"
"I thought I told you already Nigel, I'm a cursed woman." She looked up at me with blurred eyes and I realized she actually believed what she said. "This is... This is what I was put here for... To do what no one else wants to do, what no one else deserves..." She placed a hand on my cheek now, and I felt her shake as she continued on. "Didn't I tell you already what I'd do to you...? What being with me would bring you to bear?"
"There's no curse on you, Rachel, only what you think. I won't pretend that your life is easy, that you don't have to make the hard choices that impact everyone else. But you are no more cursed than I. You've just convinced yourself of it because you shut all happiness out from your life. I mark falling in love with you as one of the things that gives my life meaning. I cherish every minute I'm with you." I leaned myself into her touch, not wanting to lose her now. "I'm not afraid of your curse, because I don't believe in it. But if you do believe if you won't listen to reason...then you'll have to infect me with it as well. Because I won't stop caring for you, and I won't leave you alone. And if you know nothing about me, you should know how stubborn I can be."
She shook her head and chuckled lightly to herself, lowering her head as she did so. "Yes, you always did learn your lessons the hard way, ever since in the academy." Her eyes took on a far-off glaze, and I wondered just where her memories had taken her. "Of all the most stubborn, headstrong fools I've ever met, no one could match you, Nigel Uno." Her smile started to lift my spirits, and I thought I'd won her over at long last. "But, I've always been the one who struck you down with my cold, hard logic..." Her voice had turned stern at those words, and her hands started to emit the resulting tension. They almost seemed to sprout needles, or were those just her fingernails driving into my soft skin?
"I've told you before Nigel, you listen to your heart too much. I'm the one who thinks things through... Did you forget the Zero Incident... What we could have avoided if you had just listened to me?" Her voice hadn't risen any higher than a few minor tones, but they pierced me all the same. I didn't like it one bit; she was starting to get on my darker side now.
"What can I say, Commander? I've got to be me." Goading her was a nasty thing to do, and certainly wouldn't win me any points. But I couldn't help it. The feel of her touch was too electrifying, the sensation of her soft, delicate fingertips mingling with her sharp, piercing nails, my skin unsure how to react to her. Her cold, hard logic began to insist on itself, punctuated by the way she applied slight pressure with her nails, trying to force me to see her reality. "You're not going to drive me away." I warned her. I'd come too far to give up. "Hurt me if you must, but I'll just keep getting back up. If I think so much with my heart, it's because you've taken up residence there, each little beat makes me hear your name, makes me think of you. I wanted to badly to reach her, but if she wanted to play the game, then I would. Whatever it takes. "I've forgotten nothing about the past. I've learned from it, thrived on it. I wish I could say the same for you, but you still follow the same formulas, react the same predictable ways even when you know it's the wrong response. What do you have to be so afraid of?"
"I have to be afraid of..." She stopped and I could easily tell she was unsure of just what to say. "I'm afraid of... of failing..." She was being careful with her words now; she was still trying to win me over with her absolute logic. "I have to be the one to think of what happens if we fail, have to be the one who thinks of those that could die if I don't do my job..." She looked away from me, eyes locked on some random object on my dresser. "If someone dies from one of my missions..." Her tone of voice lowered at that, but her body still radiated the same strength of argument. "I can't afford to be like you, don't you get it yet!?"
"You can't keep making yourself bear that burden." I emphasized to her, trying another tactic. "It's too much for one kid...for one girl...to bear. If your job is going to try to force us apart, then you'll just have to quit it. I think it might be better for your health anyway." I smirked, trying to make her smile again. "I won't let you hide behind your leadership. Not anymore. I'm not going to let you be unhappy for the rest of your childhood, no matter how much you might want it. Maybe there are risks involved. For you. For me. For them. But what is love without a few risks, or life for that matter? I'm not going to let you shuffle yourself off to some meaningless existence just out of fear. I won't allow you to. You are my duty, like it or not. And I'm going to save you. I'm going to fill you full of love, and I'm going to rip you off of the whole martyr experience."
"And what of those you sacrifice for our love, Nigel?" She took a step back from me. She was quaking now, but was it from fear or another emotion? "Wha-what about those who suffer for those risks... I..." Her brows furrowed in that way that showed she was wrestling with her burdens, and I wanted to jump in and defeat them in her place. "You don't realize what I've sacrificed already, being here with you now... I AM afraid; I won't lie to you..." She shook her head and glared at me. "And if I could, I'd give up my power to be with you... But there's no one else to take my burden, because-!" She stopped, gagged slightly from the words being caught in her throat. I took a step to take her in my arms, comfort her... and she stepped back in response. "I am your duty, Nigel...?" She spoke again, the previous sentence forgotten to her apparently. "You forget Numbuh One-" Her voice rose at my number, rage spilling out of her mouth as well. "-You forget that as Numbuh Three-Sixty-Two, you are my responsibility before anything else!"
"If I'm your duty, Rachel, then don't turn a blind eye to how much I need you." I whispered, trying to think of something to say. "I'm sorry, but I refuse to believe that something as wonderful as us could end up causing harm to anyone else, unless you have a lot more suitors that I'm not aware of." I breathed in deeply, searching for my center. "Nothing bad could possibly come from you and me coming together. If anything, maybe we'd make a more complete leadership, since we are so different. What is it that you fear so much from just a few hours? What do you think will happen that has you so worried? What evil exists that can overcome the two of us?"
"Father." That single word made my body tense in anger for a brief moment before I shivered in order to re-adjust myself. "If he were to get a hold of that list, of our recruits..." She shook her head in response, allowing me to imagine those results in my own mind. "He's caught us with our pants down more than once, and even in those times we were usually at the top of our game... Now we've made a serious blunder, and if this isn't handled immediately, we could be putting innocent unsuspecting kids in great danger." She surprised me with her sudden steps, catching me and pushing me towards the window. "You should know full-well what he could do with those kids under his control." She spoke, the feel of glass on my back driving her words even further into me. "I thought I could come here and ask for your help fixing this, maybe even try something I'd always wanted... But now you're becoming blindsided... By your heart." She spat the word out, but not in hate; her face didn't have that emotion about it.
"Maybe my judgment is a little...blindsided...when it comes to you." I sighed, knowing there was no way I could defeat her. "It's really rather funny. You know, when I first met you at the Academy, I hated you so much. You came off as such a prissy little show-off who couldn't be bothered to have fun with the rest of us. You really used to piss me off...but I also admired how flawless you were in everything you did. Poetry in motion, grace under pressure. I remember. I saw you crying one afternoon. I didn't know what it was over. You were alone. I'd never seen you look vulnerable before. I wanted to go to you, but I knew how much you disliked me, and usually the feeling was mutual. I think that was the first time...the first time I felt something good about you. Even now, years later, when I like you much more, I...still let you affect my judgment. I even lost Lizzie over you, and still...still I just keep waiting for things to change. I feel like I've been waiting my whole life for this, waiting for the moment when it would finally happen, when I wouldn't have to hide anymore." A slight, bitter chuckle escaped my throat, outlining my emotions. "But now I know the truth. It's never going to happen. In the end, it's all just a fantasy, an empty promise. I've been holding out for an illusion, nothing more. And the only thing left for me to fill the void with is more missions, more work. Until I no longer care."
"No... No Nigel, I didn't mean...!" Her face took on a look of absolute fear at my words, and some other presence inside me took great joy in that. I'd poured my heart out to her at that moment, dug deep and found the words necessary to bring out the Rachel that had been buried underneath all of the pain and responsibility and hardship that she'd placed on herself. I'd brought back the woman that I wanted to spend my life with... and I could feel no love for her. There WAS love, no question about that. But I'd exhausted myself breaking through to her... through that hard armor of duty and fear... There was nothing left inside me right now.
I walked away from her, as if my body were on full auto-pilot, throwing open my closet door and brashly shuffling through my wardrobe for something. I didn't know what I was looking for, but apparently my hollow heart did. It settled on a mahogany trench coat, a gift I'd received from Hoagie in one his attempts to bring me into his world of monologue grays. It was perfect for me tonight.
I tried the trench coat on somberly, anxious to slip into a world that had less colors, that offered less pain and fewer choices. Dames had always been a problem for me, and I should've known better--that even she would be no exception. She didn't want me. She just wanted another fantasy, an idea, an escape. I felt a terribly hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach. The realization that no matter how hard I tried, she could never love me, it beat me into submission, begging me not to give up my last hopes. But I would maintain them for her no longer. I had no time nor room in my heart for games, to have shadows thrown at me. "I'll take care of the list." I said flatly. At least it's a battle that isn't a lost cause."
I walked out of the room, cold not to the world, only to her and her foolish ideals. "Nigel!" Her sobs could still get me to stop in my tracks, but they couldn't get me to face her. I turned my neck, glanced at her from the side; she was on her knees now, having collapsed to the floor at some point, I wasn't sure of just when. "Yes, Commander?" My voice was full of hatred, it wasn't proper-wasn't right, but I couldn't mask how I felt, I had to make it known.
"Just..." I had to strain my ears; I could barely catch such the low tones of her voice. She was truly broken, I surmised. She'd gambled what she had and could've had, and foolishly lost it all. How fitting. "... Come back to me... Please." She looked absolutely pitiful, and I couldn't help but feel a slight tinge of something in my gullet before it became dulled out, the harsh fresh memory returning in full once again in stride.
"I wonder why is it that women always try to lure us back after they've ripped our hearts out?" I turned to look at her now, her pleas having the effect she wanted. But I still felt so betrayed. "You gave me a mission, Commander. If you want me to postpone it for your sake, I'm willing to forget the argument and come back now. If not...I can't make any promises either way." In truth, I hated seeing her like this. It tore my heart in two more than anything else she said or did. I would always love her, and if anything, perhaps that was the curse. All I had ever wanted was to heal her. But to her last breath, I was certain she would resist.
She stared at me with those eyes, those beautiful eyes that wanted everything and nothing at the same time. Locked together with my own, time stopped and we were alone in the world, just the two of us. The way she shook in those old shrunken clothes, the way she looked at me through those bleary tear-stained eyes; I thought she'd make the right choice for a brief second. But hope is like that: making us believe that everything will be all right, and then dashing them at the last minute. This time was no different; she made no response, no move to stop me. She lay where she was with tears streaming from her eyes in slow cascades. She gave me her answer, and I walked out the door with just as equal a response of silence.
To say that the situation saddened me was an understatement. As I turned the corner, I could hear her sobbing. A part of me took some kind of pleasure in her tears--she had no right to cry when I had offered her everything. It was her own damn fault. But all the parts of me that were in love with her demanded me to go running back to her and tell her it was okay, that I would wait for her, do whatever she asked. Was it wrong of me to make her suffer? Why did she insist on making everything so damn difficult? Loving her was more than complicated, it was a full time job without a moment's rest and no matter what I tried, and I always felt guilty about something or other. Why did her eyes have to be so beautiful and haunting? Truly, she is a woman whose face can launch a thousand ships--whether she's aware of it or not. Why do you torment me Rachel? Why do you torture yourself? Just once in your miserable life, why can't you let yourself be happy?
I took to each step downstairs like I was stepping away from the gates of heaven, and in hindsight, I probably was. I had the woman of my dreams, my nightmares, and my fantasies in my room... If not for her godforsaken priorities, we could be together in perfect harmony! I could make her forget the torment Lady Fate has put her through for so long, I could make her remember what it was truly like to be a happy little girl...
I placed a hand on the front door and I felt my fingers clench in anger. No, that wasn't how she worked, not at all. She was a slave to fate; Rachel would never let anything bad happen to any one of her charges, not on her watch, not if she could allow it. It was admirable to a point; the point where it became an obsession, one that blocked her from helping the most important person of all: herself.
"I suppose in the end, dear, I have to be me...and you have to be you." Maybe that was the point. What if Rachel can't be happy being happy? Maybe that's not who she is, what she can cope with. "But even so, Rachel...don't make me fall in love with you if you won't follow through." I wanted to stop thinking about her. Focus on my job, throw myself into my work, and complete the mission. But I can't just sit back and detach myself when all I can think of is her soft and creamy skin, her blonde corona of hair that smells of lavender and fruit, the way her lips taste better than a slice of the Delightful Children's cake. I can't focus on anything else. And in truth, I don't want to. She's not just the only thing I can think about. She's the only thing I want to think about. And that, I know, can be very dangerous.
END CHAPTER 1.