When Nikita walks into her room that night, Alex is already there. She's sitting at the end of her bed, waiting.
She's not in her normal attire of sweatpants and T-shirts either. Alex's small frame is wrapped in a nude and black corset, with a lace trim and mesh design. The matching skirt is short-almost non existent-and black with a ruffle design. It's attached to a garter belt and dark matching tall black pumps lie on the floor by the bed, discarded. Her trademark long brown hair is curled and pulled over one shoulder, and she's wearing light eye make-up to accentuate her baby blue eyes.
This would mark the first time Nikita would see her dressed up; make up on and her hair done. They've known each other for almost a year now, and it's the first time Alex doesn't look like a junkie.
Alex isn't expecting much of a compliment. Actually, she isn't expecting any compliment-this is Nikita, after all. But what comes out her mouth next genuinely surprises her.
"Go to bed, Alex."
Alex scoffs, momentarily at a loss for words. The moment Nikita took to look at her, actually focus her eyes on her and pay attention to her, is already over. It was a rare moment, one that didn't last nearly as long as Alex wanted.
The older woman walks to the night stand and picks up a rubber band. "Tomorrow's a big day, you need your rest." Nikita is already dressed for bed, a large tee shirt and nothing else on. She pulls her long black hair into a loose ponytail and looks at Alex pointedly, who's still watching her, a look of disbelief on her face.
It's the night before Alex's insertion into Division. Their last night together.
Alex sits up properly and folds her arms. "Seriously?"
Nikita snorts and begins pulling back the covers. "You need to sleep, Alex. Tomorrow is important," she says. She opens the nightstand drawer and pulls out her small silver gun. She checks to see if the safety is on, then slides it underneath her pillow. She's such a robot.
"Nikita..." Alex trails of, gesturing to the ridiculously uncomfortable outfit she's wearing. "Believe it or not, this is all for you."
Nikita stops and and gives her another once over, facial expression never changing. She climbs into bed without saying anything. When she finally settles in, she lets out a soft groan.
Nikita's been going a bit overboard on the training lately; 3:00 am morning runs, sparring after every meal, combat lessons before every meal, tactical tips during water breaks and reviewing of everything related to Division; procedures, rules, personnel, operational history and etc.
She's stressed out, and worried. Tomorrow is a big day, and so is every single day after that. The day they infiltrate Division is the day the war starts, and for the past few weeks, Nikita's been more high strung than ever.
That's why Alex is doing this tonight. Nikita needs to relax, she needs one good memory to hold onto once Alex is gone. She needs Alex, whether she knows it or not.
Alex stands up and walks around to the other side of the bed. When she pulls the covers up to get under, Nikita slaps them back down and gives her that look. Alex ignores it, of course. She climbs on top of the comforter and lies back against the plush pillows, watching Nikita.
"You need to relax."
"And what? This is going to help me?" Nikita tugs on the lacy trim of the corset, raising an eyebrow skeptically. Physical contact. Progress.
"Well, it would take your mind off things...for a little while, at least." Nikita gives her a dubious look and stays silent. "I'm serious," Alex goes on. "You've been so...tense these past few weeks, more wound up than ever." Alex traces a lazy pattern on Nikita's arm, the touch so light it's almost non existent.
"Alex," Nikita says, giving her a warning. She slaps her hand away, but doesn't kick her out of bed. Again. This is a good sign to Alex.
The next time Nikita turns her head, Alex leans forward and presses a soft kiss to the spot where shoulder and neck meet. She tenses at first, then relaxes. Then pushes Alex away. A little more violently than she would have liked.
Alex sighs heavily, rolling her eyes. "I don't know why I keep trying," she mutters. But truth be told, she's nowhere close to giving up.
"I didn't ask for this, Alex. I never did," Nikita says, giving her an almost violent look.. They weren't mean words, but the way they were said, the sharp inflection in her voice, didn't change the way it hit Alex.
It stung a little, yes, but if she showed that, then Nikita would know there was a way to make her back down. And Alex isn't backing down from this.
"I keep trying because I know it'll all be worth it in the end. I see the way you look at me, Nikita." Nikita isn't always like this; robotic and cold. There are times when Alex is able to break through her walls and see below the surface. Nikita isn't necessarily "friendly" or "inviting", but for one moment in time, a flicker in history, she's...human.
Nikita scoffs, rolling her eyes. "You always were one for the fairy tales."
"I don't believe in fairytales," Alex counters, becoming frustrated; Nikita still thinks of her as just a kid.
"Whatever it is you believe in, abandon it, 'cause it's making you look like a fool." In the past, that one remark, that one string of words, would've cut right through the young girl, leaving her stunned or embarrassed or hurt. But the past is the past for a reason, and Alex isn't easily broken.
"Okay, what? What is it? Do you not like lingerie? Is it the colors? Too dark, too light, what? Is it my hair? The perfume? The garter belt? Is it your time of month or what? Or do you just prefer me in jeans or sweats?"
Nikita snorts, rolling over onto her back. The look on her face is pure malice, and if Alex didn't see it so often, she would have flinched.
"My problem is with the girl in the lingerie, the one who doesn't know that no means no."
"Technically, you've never said no to me, you just kicked me out of bed. Repeatedly."
"Did you ever stop to think that maybe there's a reason I keep doing that? Maybe because I don't like women, or because you're 17 and I'm 27 or because I'm just not interested in you?"
It's Alex's turn to snort. "Really? All the shit you've done and you're worried about statutory rape. Rape that's consensual and only statutory for three more weeks?"
"Really? That's the one point you heard? Yeah, I don't think I'm the only one with fucked priorities." Nikita says, crossing her arms.
"Okay, fine; the other two points. You, straight? No. Did you forget I was home when you drunkenly brought that woman home from the bar? And not to mention your browsing history and your wandering eye. Everything says otherwise, Nikki," Alex says, ticking the evidence off on her fingers.
"Don't call me Nikki."
"And don't think I never noticed you staring down my shirt while you taught me to hack a computer or pick a lock." Alex finishes, ignoring the pointless comment about her nickname.
Nikita smirks. "And the last point?" she asks, looking just the tiniest bit amused. "You know, where the issue is solely you?"
"I don't like that option," Alex says, shaking her head. "The odds aren't in my favor."
"They aren't in your favor tonight, either, sweetheart." Nikita shakes her head with such finality,
that Alex knows it's time to call it quits. For tonight anyway. She sighs and props herself up on one elbow, reaching out a hand to tease Nikita's hair.
"You do realize this is the last time you'll see me in person for months, right?" Alex asks, lowering her voice. "Almost a year?"
"I know what I'm doing, Alex." You mean you know what you're giving up, Alex thinks, bitterly.
"The days and nights ahead will be long and lonely..."
Why couldn't she just stop all this? This may very well be the last time they see each other, the last few hours they have together.
"Alex," Nikita says, in that annoying and harsh warning tone.
Usually, this is the part when Alex would exit the bedroom, and give up for another night. But they're nearing the start of a war, and in a way, the end. She knows that after tonight, everything will change.
"Fine," Alex says, sitting back up. "But answer one question first. Are you going to miss me?" The young Russian asks in a low voice. She traces another shape on Nikita's arm, fingertips ghosting over the pale skin in the dark room.
Nikita doesn't tense up or relax. Doesn't push Alex away or pull her closer. Instead, she simply says, "Go to bed, Alex."
My first multi-chaptered fic:D
Reviews are love:3