Title: What is Past is Prologue
Author/pseudonym: black fungi
Email address:
Rating: R
Pairings: J/B, B/m

Status: In-Progress
Date: 06/02/06
Archive: Yes
Archive author:
Archive email address:
Series/Sequel:
Category: Crossovers, Drama, First Times
Author's website:

Disclaimers:
TV series The Sentinel remains the property of Paramount and Pet Fly Production while La Femme Nikita is owned by Warner Bros and USA Network. I claim authorship to this story which is written simply for mindless entertainment... STRICTLY a non-profit endeavor.

Notes:
Do note the following for easier reading:
...words... - Indicates words are stressed (bold)
...words... - Indicates unspoken thoughts (italics)
...words... - Indicates mind-speak (underlined)
BBS (Bulletin Board System) - Initial playground and preferred electronic meeting place for computer enthusiasts.

Summary:
Will Blair's shawdowy past threaten his new found tranquility and life with Jim? The Sentinel xover La Femme Nikita

Warnings: Slash

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ACT I: Have a Fucking Merry Christmas

"It's a world where Innocence and Purity have no seat,
Where Evil triumphs while Goodness lies at his feet,
White specked with dirt; Black an armor against dawn,
Where Lies are material and Truths, nothing but pawns..."
-- Transitions by S.R.Laine --

-- Thursday, December 25th 1997 --
-- 2332hrs --
-- Section One --

It was good to see her laugh again. It was the kind of laughter that disturbed him at first: the one with heart and soul, and he didn't think the cold woman was ever capable of it. It was the kind that made him wonder if sacrificing his life was worth the cause he fought for and that if there was life still for him beyond Section One. With a firm shake of his head, he snuffed the thought out before it had a chance to spread across his brains like wildfire. It was foolish of him to think of such thoughts. He was bound to his work and his work was his life. Period.

Another laughter pulled him out of his reverie. Maddy was really having a ball of a time, dancing with Michael. Walter was exchanging presents with Birkoff, and from the looks of it, the younger man got the shorter end of the bargain. Nikita? She had two new operatives making cow-eyes at her and where her low-cut neckline ended, of course; the décolletage just begging a second glance... or should he say 'leer'. All women love being appreciated.

Looking at her and the others, he was glad that he had called for a day's celebration even though it was out of character for him to do so. A ghost of a smile passed on his lips as the image of the ever-reserved Michael choking on his coffee, then gaping at him as though he had spurted two horns on his head, came to mind. I believe one's apt to a few oddities around this time of the month.

Everyone was... simply happy. All was forgotten. At that moment then, they weren't a bunch of trigger-happy assassins, working for the government... They were simply human, trying to find solace in each other's company.

His eyes swept across the room and found Maddy's. She raised her hand and silently toasted her drink to him. Though his mind assured him that all this was only make-believe, only temporary, his heart cannot forget the joy on her face and he longed for all that might have been. He gave another firm shake of his head and reminded himself of his position. He hadn't the time to entertain any ridiculous notions; he figured the longer he remained there, the more absurdities his mind was going to be subjected to. With a click of his heels, he turned and made his way to his office.

The minute he stepped in, he realized something was wrong. Someone had gone through his things while he was playing 'host'. She or he had been neat but obviously missed the few telltale signs he left to secure his building.

A single strand of hair balanced perfectly on the knob of his drawer was gone. So was a thin strip of invisible tape secured at the bottom. It wasn't because he doubted the building's security system: it was a habit he could never shake off. After a certain misfortune in 1986, security was tripled and countless efforts were poured into it to ensure the new design bore no loopholes. He was more than satisfied with the results, but now he wondered if he should have given in to Maddy's brand of paranoia.

A quick check told him nothing else was missing though. He flipped his laptop open, not bothering with fingerprints. Chances were whoever had been through his things had also taken care not to leave any. He didn't think whoever did this was stupid. His brows knitted into a frown as he recalled a couple of crazy crackers hacking into their databases and displaying classified information on the BBS. Twelve innocent lives had paid for their foolish act before he and his people remedied the situation. It was most unfortunate, but more would follow if they hadn't done their job.

The screen flickered for a moment before his last work log was displayed.

12/25/1997 23:30:41 Downloaded File #ADRIAN258

12/25/1997 23:30:43 Downloaded File #ADRIAN259

12/25/1997 23:30:46 Downloaded File #ADRIAN260

It was barely two minutes since the intruder left the premises with copies of Adrian's files. The thought that someone had intruded his office and his personal files slightly rattled him. He had mistakenly placed his trust on the security system, and for someone who rarely makes mistakes, he found that to be gravely unacceptable.

His eyes returned to the screen. As he reread the words, a disturbing feeling welled up in his chest, leaving him trembling and weak. He didn't recognize it at first, but as soon as it made itself known, he tightened his grip at the ends of the laptop until the knuckles showed bone-white through his stretched skin.

What he felt was fear.

Someone had an interest in Adrian, enough to risk his or her own mortality to penetrate the building with operatives running amok in Santa's suits.

Pressing a button on the intercom, he said dryly, "Send Michael in" and sank in his chair. This is not my idea of Christmas.

TBC