Introduction to the series
What could, objectively, to be happened after A Time For Every Purpose? , this was the question that bugged me after last LFN episode. Being the crazy, obsessed fan who I'm, I thought and rethought until is born the first story of my " Season Six Arc" : Not Too Late To Live Again. But it is with by the second story that begins the real saga, about the difficult Nikita' s adaptation to a normal life and the further development of her relationship with Michael Samuelle. There will be spoilers from various seasons and abundance of NC-17 chapters.
BETWEEN SHADOWS OF A REMEMBERED TIME
"Those vows, those fragrances, those endless kisses, will be reborn...." - Charles Baudelaire -
Prequel
It had been three months. Three months of moving from location to location, of healing, of considering all the options. Three months spent delaying the inevitable.
Nikita knew hard decisions had to be made-- it was time. Knowledge did make what she was doing much easier. After all, she was leaving the little being who had been the solace of her solitary existence, and the man who was her equalibrium and the father of her heart, conscious that she could never see them anymore.
Josephine needed a mother, but needed a normal, real life outside more. If Nikita stayed with Walter and Josie, they wouldn't be unnoticed long: two clones walking side by side aren't a vision to pass unobserved, and people talk. One day Josephine would wake up, carefully look at her reflection in the mirror, and ask questions. Her "mother" would have to explain to her how she was the result of a genetic experiment . This would surely ruin her life. It was a miracle that she hadn't guessed anything thus far.
So, Nikita prepared herself to do what would hurt Josephine the least. She was leaving Josephine with Walter. They had developed an easy camaraderie during the past weeks and he would be a great father. Nikita heard footsteps coming and glanced up from her purse to see Walter on threshold of her bedroom.
" The taxi is waiting for you."
She perceived a sad note in his voice and, passing close to him, placed a kiss on his cheek, wanting that resigned expression to go away.. "She still won't see me?"
"Josephine will understand, she just needs time," the old man said, shaking his head.
"We will be all right, Walter."
"Yes," he acquiesced, silent for a minute. "What will you do?"
Nikita's wide smile took him aback. It was a smile that seemed to light up her soul, the smile of a woman in love.
"I've got a surprise for an old friend of ours."
Walter laughed delightedly. Sometimes good wins after all.. " Say hello for me to that lucky bastard, Sugar."
"You can count on it." Their playfulness was replaced by melancholy looks when they reached the door and realized that she had to go. It hit them that this was really the last time they would see each other. It was one thing to know that, and another thing altogether to experience the full impact of the feeling. "Walter...," she added, hand on the door handle. "Yeah?" " ... bring her to the zoo. " Nikita said this with such a solemn air, that Walter could sense the subtle meaning in it, even though she had her back turned to him.
"Not before she learns to surf." Walter and Nikita exchanged good-byes, and she finally left in the taxi.
No one had ever taken Michael's place inside her. Yes, there had been men in her life for whom she cared, but nobody compared with Michael. Human contact in Section was something that Nikita had come to crave, more as Operations than as the simple operative or mole she had been. The first had been Abraham. Operations fought hard to keep him alive, to make him overcome his emotional breakdown after his rescue. He put her on a pedestal, looked upon her as an angel guardian, a secure protector. Abraham trusted her implicitly because he badly needed to trust someone. She protected him because of her frustrated need to fix what was broken, and to reward her people for their loyalty, not just punish them for their faults.
The sex came afterwards, as an additional form of solace and reward. It was a difficult period for both. He experienced the stress of returning to the battlefield at the end of a long rehabilitation therapy; Nikita was under pressure due to a new situation with Shadow Group and Walter seemed to be shutting her out. Abraham and Nikita' s relationship stayed at the teacher- student level, in which each one gave the other support. There had been one point, Nikita knew, when Abraham's feelings could easily have turned into love if she had encouraged him. But she didn't, and the physical part of their relation vanished spontaneously, when the need ebbed.
Then there had been Ivan, an influential person in Oversight, who collaborated with Section One on some occasions. Ivan was 30 years older than Nikita, a ruthless man who was competent, exacting and observant of his duty. His terrible sense of humor very often led to remarks that were biting and irritating. However, Ivan seemed to think Nikita was a capable person and urged her to learn from him. What Nikita admired in Ivan was his capacity to take time for himself, to forget Section and enjoy the simple pleasures of life, like theater ( he was an amateur) or good jazz music. Ivan was actually one of the few with whom Nikita could have an intelligent conversation about cookery or musical tastes. Also, he highly appreciated beautiful women. They enjoyed each other's company, more for an occasional exchange of reciprocal pleasure rather than trust or fulfillment of any void.
The last was Liam, the man who gave her the Red Files. He was indirectly responsible for her freedom, and his memory caused her discomfort.
None of them, however, could make the ache for Michael go away. Perhaps she did not want to be without it. To love is a choice, and Nikita chose to love that man against the facts, against her better judgment, against her will. But with all her heart and soul.
CHAPTER 1
The day started badly for Michael Dupreè. He didn't have much rest the past night, was entirely too angry for it. Adam was becoming a constant preoccupation. How did he dare answer his father in such an arrogant manner yesterday afternoon? You reproach your son for coming home late, without letting you know beforehand, and this was the result?! And what was that mocking tone ? Adam would never have answered Elena in that manner. God, Michael couldn't remember a time in his life that he had been without a clue, as he was now. He had given up everything that he knew, possessed and loved in order to raise his son properly, and he felt as if he had failed anyway. One moment Adam was the best kid in the world, and the next moment he was a spoiled brat. What exactly had Michael done wrong?
This last question burned in his brain, while he stared at the computer screen in his small office. He waited for Ben Simmons, his colleague and casual friend, to bring him some papers. Work would help him control his anger the way it always had in the past . As he was mulling over these thoughts, Michael was distracted by a distinct knock at the door. Ben didn't ever knock-- he just burst in hurriedly. Michael's breath stopped when he caught sight of, not the little man, but someone very well known and very... unexpected.
" Hello, Michael," an Australian--accented voice said. Nikita entered the room with a sense of Deja vu. The interior decoration, or lack of it , was very similar to Michael 's old Section office.
She drank in his image, examining him carefully. Age had been generous to him; his skin showed no wrinkles. His hair was shorter and he had grown his beard, partially to cover his perfect features. However it also gave him a paternal look that only added to his fascinating charisma, and made his jade eyes come alive. His clothing was more carefree and colorful. " Hello, Ni-ki-ta " He thought she was beautiful. Her hair curved toward her face just under her jaw, her make-up emphasized her sensual red lips and the sapphire blue of her eyes. A black suit and jacket fit her slender body like a glove, with a touch of cobalt blue adding color in the scarf around her neck. "Why she was here? Did Section need him?" His thoughts immediately jumped to certain conclusions.
" I like your office," Nikita commented, exploring the surroundings. " It is familiar , don't you think ?," she hinted , gauging his reaction. " What are you doing here?" "Typical Michael: right to the point"- Nikita joked, impulsively feeling the need to maintain control of the situation by keeping him in the dark until she could check her emotions again . She adopted her best strategy, apparent self confidence, that had spared her a lot of problems in her life. Michael watched with fascination the woman whom he had loved for the major part of his existence coming, unperturbed, toward him. She stopped just in front of his desk . With a little smile, reminiscent of Mona Lisa , she confessed fervently :"I'm out, Michael. Truly out." Michael tried to think of something to say. But he could only see and was lost in the unique shade of her eyes. Those eyes that had haunted his sleep and that he remembered so well. She, too, was lost in him, and could just hear the loud beating of her heart. Their dilemma, unfortunately, did not last not more than few minutes. Because it was at that moment when Ben invaded the office. " Michael..."
Finding two pairs of intense pupils fixated on him, he had the unexplainable, uncomfortable impression that he had just ruined a very private moment.
" I'm sorry , I didn't know ..." " No trouble. I was just going." Nikita quickly interrupted the attempt to remedy his error, then added , returning her attention to Michael: " I will be having dinner at Axel's tonight at eight o'clock.. I will leave a reservation for you at my table, in case you decide to join to me. See you later."
" Later, Nikita."
After hearing his reply, the statuesque blonde took her sunglasses out of the breast pocket of her jacket , put them on and was gone as suddenly as she came. As Nikita nonchalantly passed him, Ben's eyes followed the most gorgeous creature he had ever met until she was out of sight.
Then he turned to Michael, only to observe that his companion was still staring at the closed door.
CHAPTER 2
Nikita sat quietly at her table that evening, very pleased with what she had accomplished. She had managed to confront Michael in neutral territory and arrange a meeting, er, a date, with him. Besides, she was fairly certain of her appeal and anxious to see his reaction to her.
She had chosen their meeting place well. Axel's had an intimate atmosphere, even if was a rather domestic locale. It was not enhanced by live music or any particular décor, but the soft, warm glow of recessed lighting, and the small amount of clientele, gave it a feeling of comfort and relaxation.
Nikita felt beautiful. She had prepared herself in the way she felt Michael would like to see her -- her hair smoothly gathered in a sophisticated French knot at the back of her head; her red sleeveless dress exposing creamy shoulders and a teasing portion of her breasts, and the side slits of her dress showing still shapely, long legs. Her body was taut, muscular and ageless. Her appearance was reinforced to her by the desirous looks of the restaurant's male clients as she passed them. Unfortunately for them, she was interested in the appreciation of only one specific individual.
With the grace of a panther, Michael crossed Axel's threshold precisely on time, and was immediately spotted by Nikita. Their eyes met and locked together as he strode deliberately and unhurriedly toward her. He was as dangerously handsome as ever, and he had shaved for her. How flattering.
When they were finally face to face, seated across from each other, Michael's penetrating glance left no part of her untouched. He was clearly in Section-machine-mode--dressed in black, deadly blank tone, all defenses up--just as Nikita remembered.
" What did you mean when you said you 're out?"
She replied to him with the same bluntness: "Exactly what I said. I'm out of the Organization, Michael. I'm free, permanently."
"And you've returned to me?" His accent was getting heavier, a good sign, Nikita reasoned.
"There's nowhere else I'd rather be, so if you want me with you again ..."
" I never stopped wanting you."
He took her hand and slowly kissed it. They smiled at each other: their nightmare was over. Michael caressed her fingers reverently, as if to assure himself that she was real, not a fantasy of his mind. Their all-too- brief amorous contact was interrupted by the arrival of the waiter to take their order. Nikita was enjoying the feeling of Michael's gaze on her while she read the menu
" How did you get out?" Michael asked, as he poured the wine.
"I believe you could say that I learned some, perhaps improper, strategy from the Jurgen situation. My father wasn't very happy with the way things turned out, and cleared his conscience by giving me an alternative to cancellation. Call it imposed retirement: I have to stay out of the business for the remaining of my, hopefully long, life. And yes, I have my guarantees."
"So, he wasn't dead."
"No, he had moles and simulated the scene in order to coerce me to stay. He took a big risk, through I can't wholly blame him, considering what the other options were at the time."
The waiter served them their plates and they started eating, without ever take their eyes off one another.
Michael was actually ashamed of himself: there he was with his beloved, after six years apart , and his tortured mind could only think lustful thoughts. He needed her--needed to bury himself somewhere inside her so deep that they could never again be parted. He wanted to hear her moan his name with desire and with no regard to time or space. He needed to feel her tremble beneath him, and to cherish her total abandonment to his love. He wanted to kiss her, instead of watching her from afar, and love her until both realized the force of their connection. He wondered about the texture of her hair, he loved to fondle it after they made love.
Nikita, from her side, had no intention of sleeping alone this night. She was fed up with being a soldier, was tired of battling her fears and conscience alone. Tonight, she just wanted to be a woman, his woman. She wanted to let her mask slip and have him without thinking about tomorrow. If Michael could be hers, and let her love him one time more,... the future wouldn't matter.. Just his stare could melt her, as it was doing now.. She wanted him to devour her like a flame, like the extremely passionate man she had known.. She yearned so much for the feeling of his arms encircling her, that her entire being was trembling with overwhelming desire for him.
But necessity had taught them patience, they could be temporarily content with verbal communication.
"How's Adam?" Nikita asked, starting the conversation.
Michael told her about his son, and she told him about Josephine and Walter. And they talked of all the other everyday little things of life.
They had to catch up with the six years they had been apart.
CHAPTER 3
Michael and Nikita ate slowly, savoring their conversation, but at the same time desiring an altogether different kind of nourishment. They knew what was in store and enjoyed the luxury of taking their time; however the end of dinner was the start of a crescendo of anticipation. The waiter brought the check; its payment finally allowing the couple to leave.
Restored and refreshed, the two came out of the restaurant walking closely side by side. "Adam is sleeping over at his friend's house tonight," Michael said, making the first step as Nikita predicted he would.
She answered his proposal with her languid, seductive smile-the one that never failed to tempt him. " The Inn where I'm staying isn't very far. Let's walk."
Nikita hesitantly brushed her fingers against his in unspoken invitation, and Michael took them, placing his palm firmly against hers. Like characters in a long-ago story, the lovers wandered into the night-- living spirits of an unforgotten time.
The Inn was very small, and Michael was surprised at the anonymity of Nikita's living space. It consisted of a bathroom , round table with four chairs , small bedroom facing the entrance, and a tiny foyer where an old carpet covered the floor. The only personal objects were the infamous sunglasses collection and a group of different colored and shaped candles upon a shelf.
" I've lived here for just two days " Nikita carelessly threw her coat on a chair, and started to let her hair loose as she walked toward Michael. He recognized her seductive behavior and his desire flamed at her siren call. She kissed him, just grazing his lips, and withdrew, swiftly blocking his hands in motion.
" No more borrowed time, Michael. It's all ours now."
Michael let his jacket fall to the floor ; his hands seized her hips, pressing her roughly against him. Nikita felt his hot, irregular breath on her skin and put her hands on his shoulders. She knew his barely controlled passion was ready to explode, and she stood still, waiting for him to take the lead.
Eye to eye, lips only centimeters away, she had difficulty in not encouraging him, especially being in contact with the evidence of his arousal. Her requisite response to him was basic, an old instinct easily recalled. She was aware of nothing but him, his closeness, the living heat spreading between her legs. Michael captured her lips with his-his tongue greedily dancing in and out of her mouth. Nikita returned the kiss with the same eagerness. Her one hand curved around the base of his neck, the other fingered his hair, drawing him closer and closer.
His hands, too, wanted to be familiar again with her body: moving feverishly up from her hips, strongly gripping her shoulders, before reluctantly letting go to open the dress zipper, and then sliding under the dress all along her back. Without ever breaking the kiss, Michael lifted her up, like a husband with his new bride, and brought her into the bedroom. He laid her on the bed, then scanned his love's face, trying to impress every detail in his memory. He wanted her so much that it was killing him, but wanted also to remember everything of this night.
" Michael." Her voice sounded pleading and hoarse, strange to her. To him, it was a prayer that he could never resist.
They undressed each other hurriedly, touching there and here, giving each other tiny, quick kisses.. Michael again took full possession, raining opened-mouth kisses on her lips, cheekbones, eyelids, then burying his nose in the crook of her neck, inhaling the scent of her skin. He licked, sucked , bit playfully in that tender sensitive point of pleasure that only he knew; until he finally heard her capitulating light cry. It was as if he could distinguish their love, so powerful and ardent , so violated and repressed, bursting desperately inside him , inside her, between them.
She arched her back towards him and her fingers gripped his bottom, obeying a voice in her mind that chanted: closer, closer.
It could never be too close.
It felt as if her world was breaking into pieces and he was her anchor, her salvation. He was it. ********************************** CENSURED SCENE - the Nc17 scene is cut. Since when this syte don't approve about sexual explicit language, if you want the complete story you must ask me directly and i will send it to you ***************
They disengaged, gasping for air, damp with sweat, huddled together, seeking each other's comfort even in exhaustion. They grew aware of how emotionally and physically draining their thirst had been; finally collapsing.
A unfamiliar contentment flowed into them, cradling them in dreamless oblivion.
Chapter 4
Having slept serenely, without any boundaries of time, Michael became gradually conscious of his new reality. The first difference he detected from the norm was the strong smell of sex lingering in the room, a room he didn't immediately recognize. Light peeked in through the semi closed shutters of the window, reflecting a blonde head curled up under his chin. He moved slightly in order to see her face, just to be sure it was really her, dreading that it wasn't. Yes, it was really Nikita.
She seemed peaceful, and reacted to his slight movement by reaching for him and resting her head on his chest. He smiled at the memory of watching her beside him at night, when he couldn't sleep, and how she always involuntarily looked for his presence, like now. Michael traced her spine, appreciating the silkiness of her skin. He had always loved to touch her; his eyes filled with boundless joy in seeing her .
Once Section had denied him the right to love her, a right that he had forbidden himself initially. Because of Simone and Elena, because of his orders, because of his feelings of guilt, stealing glances and casual touches had to be enough. He needed to have her near him in order to feel alive, even if she hated or despised him. He felt he didn't deserve her love. But she loved him, and her love saved him in more ways than one.
It was after the loss of Adam that the final barrier broke. He had no more reason to restrain his longing, to hold back from the strength of her temptation . She had become his reason to exist. Even then, he had to wait for the right place, the right time, the right situation.... now instead he could touch her anywhere he wanted, for as long as he wanted, and stare at her unless she asked him to stop.
A strange sensation seized his heart then, engulfed everything he was . It was like floating in the infinite, like, like.... like flying. Like. being unlimited, free. What was it? Nikita snuggled up to him and Michael sighed. The sensation intensified. He admired the slim body entwined with his. Proudly, he outlined the marks he had placed upon her during their indescribably ecstatic night. Just the first of many, he thought. If he had his way, they would have much to look forward to.
Smoothing her hair away from her neck, Michael noticed two marks not resulting from their amorous encounter: they were circular and seemed to be derived from some kind of neural stimulation. He made a mental note to ask her about it later. Also, making note of her exceedingly thin body, he would invite her to eat out more often. Michael held her closer.
A guttural sound advised him his lover was awakening. "Good morning," he greeted her, softly touching her hair.
Nikita grinned at him sheepishly. "Morning."
She looked at him with a dreamy, smiling expression and stretched out her hand to caress his jaw, then his lips. She tugged and circled, causing him to nip and then suck at her thumb. Extracting her digit from the delectable vice of his tongue, Nikita felt a surge of love overcome her utterly. He was perfect, he was hers and he was here. She couldn't ask more from life. Everything was the way it should be. "I missed you very much," she admitted, massaging his chest like it was the most interesting part of his body.
Michael took her head in his hands, to compel her to look him in the eyes. "I love you," he intoned unconditionally.
His declaration shocked her, but Nikita quickly covered the surprise flashing in her limpid blue orbs by ravishing his lips.
"I'm going to take a shower," she said while rising and slipping out of the bed. The mischievous turn of her smile suggested she hoped not to be alone. Lustfully regarding her retreating nude form and her wiggling backside, Michael's lips tugged lightly upward.. There was no doubt about it.. She was enticing him and doing a superb job of it.
It didn't matter even if she wasn't fully sure of her feelings for him. She had come to him and that was proof enough. He, himself, had been reluctant with words before, and knew that actions often talked louder. In time, Nikita would remember, and he was determined to see to it personally. She would fall in love all over again, he swore, closing his eyes and listening to her turn on the water. He thought he would give her a few more minutes before getting out of bed to join her.
CHAPTER 5
With a frustrated sigh, Nikita let the hot water buffet and calm her. She couldn't quite explain her earlier panic at Michael's suddent revelation. If there was a certainty in her life, it was that she loved him, now more than ever. Yet, she was hesitant to tell him.
Hearing Michael enter the bathroom, she put these introspective thoughts aside, and by the time he stepped into the shower, any sign of distress was gone from her mind and from her person. ********************************** CENSURED SCENE - the Nc17 scene is cut. Since when this syte don't approve about sexual explicit language, if you want the complete story you must ask me directly and i will send it to you ***************
Along time after, Michael and Nikita separated, grinning, and sensuously kissing. They got out of the shower, walking unsteadily, and sat on the bed, exchanging soulful looks.
"I have to get going. I have an appointment at The Crown within an hour," Michael said, twisting her gold strands.
Nikita leaned her forehead against his, and murmured sultrily, unbeareably close to his mouth, "Will I see you for lunch?"
"Yes", he whispered back right before he recaptured her in a searing kiss. Reluctantly, the two, almost fallen back on the mattress, drew apart and started to focus on their plans for the day. They watched each other as Michael gathered his scattered clothing from the floor and Nikita wrote her cell phone number on a piece of paper. They still held each other's gaze as Michael dressed, restraining the power of reborn desire. After Michael put on his jacket, Nikita slipped her phone number into his pocket.
"Call me when you're done."
"Of course."
Fearing to get carried away, they said goodbye with a quick peck on the lips. Michael caressed her cheek, unwilling to go, and Nikita covered his hand with hers, wishing to steal few precious moments . She kissed his palm and let it go.
Michael turned, looking back a last time, and walked to the door. Nikita waited until it was closed, then returned to bed, rolled into the sheets, and drifted into a dead sleep.
Chapter 6 A
Michael stared impatiently into space, inwardly cursing Ben's lateness. He had signed a contract with a new small musical group to play at his pub, The Crown, and would have been finished for the day after they had discussed some technical matters. He could think of better ways to use his time than idly sitting here waiting for Ben.
Nikita: He could be kissing , touching or talking to her. Instead he was here, waiting. He trusted her when she told him he was free, knowing she had never harmed him or Adam. Michael read this truth in Nikita's eyes, but understood too well that there were other matters they had left unresolved. Any semblance of time or space was in past as blocked for him, and was only now ebbing to allow his return to reality.
He had only left her few hours ago, but missed her. Having Nikita close but not with him, increased, rather than eased his need to be near her.
He seen changes in her. Her eyes were older and wiser; the confidence of her gestures and attitude successfully masked her feelings. Only a man who had spent years deciphering her every step and smile, could unmask those feelings. He wanted find what was behind those changes, behind this new Nikita. Her absolute need of him showed in the way she looked at and caressed him, her tears, the strength with which she held onto him. The old Nikita needed him, but not this way, not the way he needed her. Maybe she just hadn't known it then.
His mind was filled with thoughts of her, memories of their past, questions about their future. For once, there was no bitterness or pain in them. For once, since his recruitment into Section One, Michael looked forward to tomorrow with hope, instead of dread.
Michael loved Nikita more intensely than he could ever have imagined, yet she wasn't the ideal woman of his boyhood fantasies. In his youth, sex represented adventure and discovery, not the duty and detachment of the skilled Section Valentine op Michael had become. Michel liked brunette petite women, delicate and feminine. Simone and Elena fit perfectly into that category, although for the latter he felt only brotherly affection.
He had often noticed Simone talking with his mentor, Jurgen. Simone and Jurgen were close friends, and it was rumored they were, or had been, an item. A few years older than Michael, Simone had the look of a china doll with an athletic and beautifully contoured body that felt small and sheltered under his. Graceful and elegant, with ebony hair and fair skin, she was the embodiment of his boyhood vision, which he had thought was unobtainable..
As frequently happened, Madeline knew Michael's desire, and planned to use it to induce Michael to exploit his talents. Simone was a good operative. Her oriental philosophy of submission made her receptive to Section's policies, and therefore an excellent influence on Michael for his integration into that great mechanism.
Often paired on missions with Simone, Michael discovered her to possess a soul strong and reserved, with an iron temper under a refined exterior. He was attracted to her beliefs and sense of honor, which were very similar to his own. They began as occasional lovers, and escalated to being in love.
Neither being very talkative, they rarely discussed their pasts before One, their relationship based on respect of each other's need for silence. Simone and Michael found in each other's acceptance, someone who was willing to listen without question, who helped to live in the present. They held on to each other for survival.
In another lifetime, under normal circumstances, maybe they would have been just friends. Michael harbored a profound admiration for his first wife. The Vietnamese beauty was clever, patient, and calm. Her discreet presence warmed their home, and her counsel soothed him when he was preoccupied or angry. She didn't like to argue, but had more subtle ways of bringing him to do what she wanted.
Simone loved taking long walks, for hours and hours, talking of nothing. She would tell jokes, and laugh when Michael didn't understand them. Operations and Madeline sanctioned the affair, valuing its benefits for their heir and his integration . They were convinced that the prominent valentine role both played in their missions would break them up, sooner or later. Instead, Michael and Simone grew closer, relieving in reciprocal contact, and decided to marry.
Their union wasn't perfect, as Nikita presumed: sometimes Simone got too maternal, sometimes Michael got too bossy. Sometimes, they solved their problems with sex. They only lived for the present. Simone dealt with the Vacheck blood cover mission as she dealt with all the other valentine assignments of Michael's: she ignored it.
Simone had high self-esteem and let nothing and no one put her down. However, Jurgen had often been the recipient of her tirades on her loneliness. As for Michael, he strove to live split in two: First, his Section persona--divided between his absorbing field work as a cold operative, and Simone; Second: his blood cover mission as the devoted fiancèe / husband of Elena and father of Adam. It was difficult for him to maintain any distance with his mission's "victim" after their marriage. Elena's genuine enthusiasm and dedication to Michael made him feel guilty.
Elena's happiness at expecting their first child was crushed when she had a miscarriage, after which Michael was particularly protective of her. He suspected Section of somehow being responsible. The loss of a child, might compel her to look for another family member-her father. As a bonus, it might strengthen her dependence on her husband, making her more accessible to Section's manipulation.
Naturally , Michael didn't tell Simone about any of this. He grieved with Elena , tried to help her to recover, himself struggling with remorse. The blood cover stole from his time with Simone, already halved from the frequency of their separate assignments. They saw each other less and less, behaving like nothing had changed when they did, making their time together seem surreal.
The night before the Glass Curtain mission they had an argument. Simone accused Michael of not giving her enough attention, of being passive. He replied that he had other matters to think of. There was still tension between them when Simone requested back up for the mission and Michael told her it wasn't necessary. His refusal would forever haunt him. Simone' s death was hard on him: He lost the only person he trusted, his only true friend and confidant and in addition, he carried the guilt he felt at not granting her request for backup, felt he had betrayed her.
Michael wanted to hate Elena for taking Simone' s rightful place, but he couldn't. Elena offered him an ideal fantasy life far from Section, but in reality, she was deceived and hurt. It angered him that he was capable of such horrible feelings, and the self-loathing ate him up.
Six months after the presumed death of Simone, Madeline realized that the behavior of Section's top operative was marginal, which could endanger the capture of Salla Vacheck. Operations and his head-strategist decided that some action needed to be taken and agreed that a full time activity would keep him in line. The following day, Madeline put Michael in charge of the training of a difficult , but intelligent recruit named Nikita.
And things were never again the same.
CHAPTER 6 B
The first encounter between Michael and Nikita wasn't special at all. He intently read and memorized her file, but it made no particular impression upon him. Mechanically he had programmed his approach to her, and Nikita reacted as had every other recruit. How many of those sessions had he performed?
During their sessions, Nikita's personality and spirit gradually began to intrigue him, without his even being aware of it. It was his job to watch and evaluate her, uncovering her strengths and weaknesses. Therefore, he thought of his interest in her as part of his duty. Duty. And therefore, his determination to figure her out was justified-it was just work. Just work, although he easily forgot that. She was defiant and innocent, rebellious and caring, aggressive and lively... combinations that astonished him.
Nikita was a puzzle, a challenge that he wanted to win. Or so Michael believed. His subconscious probably knew better. Fantasies, carefully repressed while he was awake, returned in full force at night, compelling him to take more notice of his attraction for his material. It was normal, Michael rationalized: Nikita was not only very beautiful and sexy, she was different. Pure. He felt he was reacting to her on a merely physical level, because his libido and his heart didn't die with Simone. He felt his need to protect her was normal too, she deserved a chance to live. And her naiveté reminded him of his sister Martine.
Michael tried hard to find the killer instinct in her, anything unpleasant that could reduce her impact on him, but it was useless: Where he looked for malice, he found spontaneity. There simply was nothing he could do to prevent his recruit from getting under his skin. Nikita confused him, inspiring in him feelings so different: frustration, tenderness, passion, wonder, fear, guilt, pride. Every one of these feelings overwhelmed him at different times, lacerating the systematic order of his existence by allowing Nikita to become its center.
Michael fought the heartrending impulse to have her, but his fantasies became conscious and, having no control over them, he surrendered to them. He never stopped loving Simone, he still missed her, but Nikita took over his heart and soul forcibly, relentlessly, digging deeper and deeper. Even though he felt his uncontrollable desire and affection for Nikita soiled Simone' s memory, he was helpless to stop it. He couldn't believe what a horrible monster he was , to profess undying adoration for his deceased wife, sleep with Elena and be obsessed with his material.
Since Michael met Nikita, he, who had been so certain of his bond with Simone, often questioned if he had ever really been in love with her. As far as his love for Nikita, he was sincere when , during their captivity under Red Cell, he told her that he didn't know what love was. Was it the sense of acceptance, of familiarity that Simone gave him? The blind veneration that Elena had for him? Or was it how painfully alive he felt in the proximity of his blonde valkyrye?
He didn't lie about loving Simone when he found her in Glass Curtain's basement, but what he was experiencing with Nikita was something he had never felt before. She seemed to touch all the cords of his spirit and made them vibrate in unison. From the very beginning, when she was his material, he considered her his own. Later he protected and mentored her as his lover. Maybe it was the latter that spurred his singular possessiveness of her.
He had never been the jealous type, never needed any woman with whom he was involved, to have eyes only for him. That was his relationship with Simone; she was her own person. With Nikita came the uncertainty and jealousy; the rage toward other men in her life, men who could do what he longed to, but was forbidden to him. Jurgen, Gray, Chandler, Helmut had incited in Michael bitter resentment and a need to remove them at the first possible opportunity. Although he paid no attention to his non-Section half, he was intolerant of any man who came near Nikita. Even on a mission, he was unable to stand the thought of her being touched by another, and defended his place beside her tooth and nail. Michael loved her, knew she belonged outside of his life, and couldn't conceive of an existence outside of hers.
Michael never realized the extent of his need for her before he thought her dead in the suicide mission. He was lost without her, frozen in the impossibility of accepting her absence , furious beyond belief at his role in it, nestled in regret. Then his angel was returned, bringing back a hurricane of conflicting emotions. He was terrified at the thought of losing her again.
When Adam was born, and placed in his arms, Michael felt the barriers pulverized he had erected at Adam's gestation. He was enchanted to see the minuscule creature moving in his embrace. He loved his son immediately, with all the joy he could muster, although the baby boy took after Elena in personality and looks. The little miracle was one of his own making. Michael was a good father to Adam and made the child happy. He pondered about his lack of permanence in his son's world, and decided that it wasn't a completely negative factor. The thought of ruining Adam like he ruined Martine, Simone, Nikita, René, almost killed him and only the need to protect Nikita restored his sanity.
Every day, Michael found his love for Nikita growing, and every day she became a bigger part of him. Even his perception of himself changed because of her feelings for him, to the point that it was impossible to separate him from her. They were one. Nikita's ultimate betrayal broke Michael, teaching him how much it hurt to have the most important part of himself ripped away, listening her say the words he dreaded the most.
When they were finally reunited, Adam needed a parent and Michael couldn't let him down, not a second time. There was no real joy in Nikita and his dreamed--of rejoining, but instead a bittersweet relief: Michael had his little boy back, but at an abominable price .
Michael couldn't bring himself to say what seemed to be a final goodbye to Nikita. It was an awful choice Michael had to make, between his beloved and his son. In conclusion, the choice was made for him: Adam was the major realization of his life, his shelter from pain and darkness, and Nikita was his soul. No one can live without a soul, even if it was the right thing to do.
Chapter 9a
4 ½ weeks latter Nikita was watering the plants in her new apartment. The place was a triumph of hanging virtue, filled with ornamental plants, objects of minimal dimension which were pleasing to the eye but were of no practical use: cruets of colorful blown glass, book shelves of painted wood overflowing with an eclectic variety of worn leather bound novels, ceramic plates, all hand painted and finely decorated, along with a colorful array of water colors adorned her walls.
Michael who was in the kitchen preparing their breakfast smiled at her in amusement, he had already voiced his opinion of Nikita's unique décor, and his declaration of the place being overdone was met with smile and an amused laugh.
She had landed a job as an independent artistic consultant at a public relations firm.
The flexibility of her hours left her a good amount of time for herself, time she used to work on her apartment.
The result being that the place was almost starting to feel like a home. Almost because she only truly felt at home when she was with Michael.
Nikita placed the watering can in the sink and now moved about the kitchen helping Michael finish the breakfast preparations.
It had become their routine, every morning after Adam left for school Michael would join Nikita for breakfast.
Milk for Nikita and coffee for Michael, bread and orange marmalade for this morning's meal, and then they would set off for work.
Everyday at noon they would meet for lunch and if time permitted, they might enjoy some time together in the afternoon. It didn't matter what they did or where they went, they were together and that is all that mattered.
Every night once Adam was asleep in his bed, Michael would check the security system from his office at the Crown and once assured of his son's safety, he would continue to work until his sun-haired mistress would make her appearance and distract him into getting whatever she wanted from him.
Before dawn Michael would return to Adam and Nikita would be left alone in her bed.their bed.
Their idyll had everything to do with the fact that they challenged and balanced one another as only two people gifted with the same charisma and taste for power. They were discovering each other again, and were happily surprised to learn that they both loved to play the same sensual games of cat and mouse.
Games where they were free to explore at leisure the countless avenues of the others mind, pleased with their own technique and with their opponent.
Michael was amazed and thrilled by Nikita's emotionalism combined with her need to control.
While Nikita admired Michael's ability and knowledge of how to get the reactions he wanted from her. Only Michael knew how to handle Nikita, and only to Michael would Nikita give that kind of power to.
The couple currently breakfasting in the kitchen represented a sheer contrast: a Nordic predator wrapped loosely in a mauve silk nightgown, her hair mussed, eating with unnatural relish bread and marmalade, licking the butter off of her fingers.
And a silent alpha male in his black suit politely sipping his café au lait, trying to decide if he preferred this new piece of lingerie or the blue one that matched her eyes, and just where did she find so many stimulating night clothes anyhow? He could just wonder.
Diverting his overactive imagination from the strap that had fallen from her shoulder revealing her creamy smooth skin that he had so recently caressed and loved, Michael was lost in the vision of her lips carelessly enclosing the full length of her finger into the warmth of her mouth.
She was delicious, he thought to himself, and usually it was when her guard was down that he surprised her with these meaningless but sexy gestures that were so typically hers. Would he, after so long a separation be content with just anything he could get from her, with only these stolen moments? His heart didn't think so, and his reasoning had nothing to do with the amount of attention she paid him, he knew he would always crave more of her. Their present arrangement, even if satisfactory, was far from his true desires.
They had agreed to keep Adam out of the equation until they were both ready to face the inevitable questions their relationship was sure to raise with the boy.
Nikita closed the marmalade jar and set it aside feeling loaded with the energy to start a new day.
Whether it was the sugar filled breakfast or the reserved businessman seated next to her giving her so much optimism she was uncertain. All she knew was that every time he crossed the threshold of her door she was ready to face whatever the day would bring.
" I have an appointment with Dr. Portman this morning. It's close to that antique store you said you wanted to visit. I was thinking that we could drop in if you can free yourself?"
Michael looked up from his coffee smiling into her gaze.
" Today will not be possible. Adam and I are going to visit Lillian and Andrew; we will probably be staying the night and return tomorrow evening. "
Mr. And Mrs. Thomas had once been the friendly neighbors of the Dupree men. They moved away a few months ago to a countryside home not very far from Boston after Andrew developed respiratory problems. Lillian, not having had children of her own " adopted " Adam from day one.
The Thomas's often kept the boy in their home when Michael had to leave on business to ensure their cover.
For his side, Michael liked the old couple and respected them for their kindness and consideration. They also offered company without violating his privacy with inappropriate questions.
He and Andrew had a common interest in classical music and played their share of duets, one with the cello and the other with the piano. Adam loved them like the grandparents he never had.
" You didn't tell me" She was vaguely annoyed; it wasn't like he owed it to her, but she still felt a slight sting in her heart that he hadn't told her, it would have been nice to be informed.
He looked into her cunning and mysterious eyes, unsuccessfully trying to put together the coolness of her posture with the disappointment vibe in her voice. Why could she put him so off balance with so little effort?
"Lillian phoned yesterday evening. She was saying that Andrew had recently been ill. We decided last night Nikita." I didn't to mean tell you with such short notice, but I really didn't plan to be gone."
" I'm sorry Michael." Nikita sighed relaxing a little. "It isn't grave is it?"
"No.just a fever, but Adam was bothered."
"And so were you"
Michael nodded. " Yes, he's a good man."
It was his way of conveying he cared for the old couple that had treated he and Adam like family.
"Mmm.I bet he is fine and you will have a great time." She brushed past him, clearing the table.
Michael got up to help her, hesitating to voice his proposal.
"You could come with us."
It wasn't pleasant for him to be hiding his private life from his son. It made it look like he was having a clandestine affair, something cheap and unimportant. This was so much more than that. It was true that dealing with Adam's reaction in this delicate stage of his and Nikita's relationship could be problematic.
But it bothered him to sneak out of bed to get home before dawn; he hated leaving their bed.
He and Nikita were progressing nicely and he intended to ask her to move forward in their relationship and settle this issue with Adam.
Nikita was frozen for a moment, just staring back at him. She knew the time would come, but his request still shook her.
It went without saying; she wanted a lifetime with him, out in the open. However meeting Adam again was the beginning of the fight for a dream she gave up a very long time ago. Beginning to believe in that dream hadn't been easy for her, and so strong was the fear that Adam's rejection could ruin beyond repair any second chance they might have to be together.
Irrational, childlike and irrevocably true.
"Michael, Adam doesn't know about me, how will we explain my going along and spending the night with you?"
" We will remedy that.I want him to know you."
"I still have my work to do today. Why don't you go and we will plan a dinner for another time? There is no hurry ..."
He laid a hand on her shoulder stopping her before she could continue.
"Waiting will only make it worse. Listen, you can join us tomorrow for lunch, bring a gift for our host's, and I will introduce you as a good friend. You can meet two wise people and spend quality time with me and Adam.please?" He pulled her into his embrace trying to reassure her. "I will talk to Adam, he will be okay."
He told her as if her were talking to a small child. It was somewhat unnerving and it made her feel guilty.
"I shall consult Mr. Portman."
"Ni-kee-ta" he warned.
"Okay okay." She laughed and brought her arms around his neck pulling him into a deep kiss.
Breaking the kiss and resting her forehead against his she sighed.
"God I sound pathetic. It's just that.I love you ; I don't want anything to come between us. Every time my life takes a positive turn.I don't know, I just feel like all hell is going to break loose again all because I'm happy."
Michael tenderly kissed her cheek .
"Not this time. I need you promise me you will think about." "I'll think about it"
She nodded as he loosened his arms from about her waist, his hand casually skimming her bottom making him all to aware that nothing but bare skin was under the thin revealing fabric.
"I have to go now"
"Fine" Nikita replied and turned on the faucet to wash the mugs they had used. On the threshold of the kitchen, Michael turned his head to glance at her one last time before he left her for the day. BIG MISTAKE.
His eyes glued themselves to her exposed back and then traveled lower to the round curves of her ass displayed intriguingly through the sensual silk material. He felt the familiar tightening in his groin. This wasn't the time to dwell on the fact that tonight, the first in weeks he would be sleeping alone. She would not be in his arms when he fell asleep. He would be alone. The tightening intensified. It wasn't like they made love every night. Some nights they were content to just hold each other and take comfort in the others presence. No, Michael Samuelle was not a sex slave; he was capable of controlling his physical desires. "Merde".his gaze once again fell on her and he was lost. There was no turning back. All his intentions of leaving fled his mind. After all, there is no longer any danger in allowing himself to indulge in a weakness, if that weakness was her.
Chapter 9b
Nikita heard Michael retrace his steps and turned around, seeing him stand right behind her, a cute frown on his chiseled features. He looked at her as if he had something to say, but was embarassed, or could not quite come to terms with what he was feeling. It was unaccountably sweet. She turned off the water, partly out concern, partly out curiousity, and peered her head aside expectantly.
'' Forget something?''
Utterly defeated, Michael sighed, perplexed at himself and a little insecure of what she would think of him : '' I want you''. If briefly surprised, the object of his affection was hugely amused from the resigned seriousness accompanying the affirmation, and smirked pleasedly at the obvious inspection of his eyes over her . '' Yeah?'' '' Yes.'' She could swear he was blushing. Michael- blushing..... WOW. Although the crazy idea of teasing him before giving in was alluring, she took pity on him and spared him to clearify exactly what he wanted from her. A shy Michael was a very, very sexy Michael. She closed the distance between them with two steps, staring him suggestively. It wasn't often she had the chance to make her mate more hot and brothered than she was in their coupling. '' You can have me anytime - she caught his hand , moving up to cup her cheeck- but first.....'' She guided him to a chair and motioned for him to sit ''.. get confortable''
********************************** CENSURED SCENE - the Nc17 scene is cut. Since when this syte don't approve about sexual explicit language, if you want the complete story you must ask me directly and i will send it to you *************** time after ..
While their mingled breath regularized, they refused to break the enchantement of their intimate union. Her head was confortable lying on his shoulder and her fingers played with the seldom hairs on his chest, under the unbuttoned shirt, treaded the scratches she gifted him with as a reminder.
'' Pretty intense for a quickie, huh?'' Nikita kidded him, kissing his Adam apple. Her companion laughed openly the laughter she favored: that one he preserved for when he was truly happy, and made her feel good. Why, it was her who gave him that rare kind of happiness. A laughter becoming to him, a spontaneous and personal eruption of joie-de-vivre flowing on her and making her fuzzy.
They cuddled, reluctant to give up the intimacy of one inside the other, not ready to let go the peculiar beauty of a urrepeteable communion. If only the world could consist of only that room!
'' I'll come'' she said it fleebly, so than she was hardly audible.
'' Thank you'' he breathed in victory and relief caressing her leg and smooching her ruffled hairs.
''I'll come for the meal, but i wont stay for the night like some loose woman luring you in the oblivion. I dont want to give the wrong impression....''
Michael smothered her with kisses upon her reply and succeeded to make her forget the trouble she was getting into.
'' Better change before you go, or Ben will tease you to death''
She gave a sympathetic look for his coworker.
'' Kita we both knew he' ll do it anyhow '' he sighed in exasperation: Ben was a womanizer , one perceptive in addition, so he would guess what they were doing and it would be very out character if he would let it go.
They were lucky that Michael had the prudence of leaving some items of clothing in her wardrobe, because what he was wearing was unreversably wrinkled. From her lying position on her sofa, Nikita glimpsed him redressing in her bedroom, with graceful moves. She loved looking him while he did it. So much could be said about a man from the way he recomposed himself after lovemaking. Michael takes his time, caring more about the results than about timeliness; he's confident, and has few inhibitions. He loves order, dislikes having focused attention on him. He's full of grace, aware of his resources and his strengths, at least with her, comfortable with his body and his sexuality. Her mind was hurting from the memory of her watching him performing the same actions the morning after they found each other, and it followed in rapid succession, memories of many joyful moments in this apartment.
Nikita looked down, in attempt of killing the feeling building up in her, overtaking her judgment. She wanted to be coolheaded, but her heart wasn't listening. Her heart quickened its beats, strongly so.
Panic rising.
Why was it happening to her of all the people?
Just a little bit more time.....
Take a grip , you can handle it. You always handle it.
No. She had no control of it. No control.
She felt helpless.
Nikita passed an hand through her hairs; she hated being helpless. Like when she was a child and those men held her down...like during her latest captivity.
Feeling imaginary dirty hands on her skin, Nikita bit her bottom lip and blocked out the sensation of a bad infection invading her body. She lived through that horror. It was over.
Over.
Over-over-over.
She was allright.
She believed it only when she lifted her eyes and focused them on, for better or worse, where they would always be, on him.
Chapter 10
Nikita met Michael and Adam in front of the condo where they lived a few hours later.
By then she had control of herself, and the presentation went surprisingly smooth. Adam, therefore confused by the sudden apparition of the his father's old friend and by the succinct explanation he received on so short notice, was nonetheless polite and charming as Michael advised him to be. He didn't understand what was in the air, and his attunement with the nature of his parent roused indefinite suspicions in his young mind. His curiosity was piqued by the newcomer who was, from his confused childhood memories , one of the few teasels of his past.
In her manner, the youngest Samuelle caught some familiar traits, prominent ones in the his father's demeanor: proud nait, quick and organized but graceful gestures, the habit to scan a room with casual glances. About her, Adam concluded in his final assessment , there was the barely contained power that he, after years of pratice, learned to trace in his father. Excitement animated him, considering that her seemly fortuitous return could sedate his desire for answers.
Adam was an intuitive and reflective boy, brought forth by his upbringing in company of a man out of the ordinary like his father. The unique preparation he had received had just sharpened these qualities, although he had received his mother's acceptance and open-mindedness. Physically the resemblance was even more striking : big and expressive dark eyes, short sleek black hairs orderly combed, brown complexion, medium height . Anything in him called to life the late Elena. Nikita understood the measure of Michael's discomfort when they spoke. It was difficult seeing in your son, the ghost of the woman you betrayed in the most terrible ways. Quite curiously , there was space for something of Michael in him, and it was found in his eyes. His gaze was intense and owned a deep sense of strength and secret thoughts. Because of Nikita following them in her auto, they had no time to exchange anything other than essential pleasenteries. Nikita and Adam were looking forward to the chance to acquire a better knowledge of each other. The Thomas' country-house could not be mistaken for an estate, but it was quite large in comparison with the rest of the neighborhood. An English literature teacher before retiring, Andrew was born in a family of modest social extraction, and was used to pulling the strings. As for his wife, she was always content with little, and gave him no children , so they unawarely spared a lot of money for their old age. The occasion to put it at use presented itself when Andrew fell ill. The couple considered indulging themselves in the purchase of a small propriety of their liking, being left with no other family than each other.
The house was inserted in a stunted orchard, and very conservative inside and out.
Its wood porch was especially traditional and to Nikita the entire scenery, somewhat picturesque, looked like if it came out a old film in black and white.
Before she and Michael finished parking, Lillian' s minute frame was standing on the porch, her harms crossed in gay expectation, and walked to them.
'' Michael, Adam!'' The woman saluted both of her men with a hug , that Adam returned eagerly and Michael tolerated with his natural and well- hidden ritrosy for prolonged physical contact.
Nikita waited aside to be introduced, assessing the scene with mild curiosity. Pepper hairs striked with gray, nasal voice , long bones and unbelievably short stature. Lillian was a frail-looking woman, sustaining the signs of a past modest beauty.
Once presented, she received an enthusiastic, hearty greeting, after which the three were guided inside to join Andrew.
While she clasped his offered hand she did not wonder how he and Michael hooked up. Andrew was one of these people who are willing stay in the background, and not for lack of something to express, filled rooms with their silences. He lacked the overt giddiness of his wife, but bestowed on her a steady smile and a pleased look from under the thick lens of his spectacles. He gave her the impression of a man always ready to say exactly what he thought, whether or not you listened or not.
Surveying the development of the situation and giving few imputs here and there, Michael was left rather satisfied. It proceeded how he had hoped. Nikita easily captured the interest of their hosts and, most importantly, she and Adam were reacting well to each other. Conciliating his past and his future was feeling less complicated than he believed possible, so he was a little puzzled. It didn't escape him a trail of pride, while with the tail of his eye he watched Nikita' s naturalness in showing herself. They had prevalently been alone with the past weeks, for obvious reasons, so it was the first time he saw her interacting with third parties. None could have accused her of being anxious to please and, if he had not known better, he would think that this meeting with his son was ordinary as her morning jogging in the park. Perhaps he worried too much for her. After all, Nikita wasn't anymore the scared girl in the White Room or the angry young woman he used bend the rules for. Years of being at the top of the game took their toll and she had her secrets and her hard shell. She came back to him with them. The satisfaction was sufficient for he didn't notice that, regardless of his closed nature, grinning and laughing costed him no premeditation : they were natural and without fatigue. The change didn't go unnoticed to Adam.
His father had been his sole contact with the real world for most of his life.
As child, Adam had adored him, had regarded him with mystification and never thought he could be wrong. But becoming man, he wished for a more direct confrontation. An approach that his father had not encouraged or let. Michael was all right with the present course of things and, though he loved his son beyond his future, he felt nobody should have penetrated the shield guarding his innermost thoughts, feelings and memories.
It wouldn't be wise and that shield was his defense for so long that it was more of a useful tool. It was a necessity and without it he would feel naked and weak. For all of the rebuffs of Adam's attempts, Michael balanced their relationship so that he had the upper hand and preserved his proper distance.
Unaware or not, authentic intimacy with someone scared the hell out the former spy.
Since such was the status quo, Adam was rather surprised to witness the unmistakable smoldering looks his dad addressed toward his blonde friend when he deluded himself in thinking no one was paying attention. There was a unmistakable chemistry between them, and the ensemble of facts advanced in the boy's mind of speculation.
Never in his presence did his father had show interest in females, even those who sent him clear signals of their disposability. He had simply imputed it at his private mourning for his mother. Not seldomly he had desired that they were able to mourn her together , but it happened only at an extent.
Yet there was an attractive, younger woman in seemingly confidence with him. Adam was unsure about how he was supposed react to the whole fact. Nikita was nice enough, but the concept of his father having a fancy for her was quite unsettling.
When it was time to make lunch, Lillian and Nikita retired to the kitchen. Adam slipped behind them, volunteering help.
Michael, lacking of the stereotypical male attachment to watching football (watching a match of martial arts or boxing would be more to his tastes), neither used to be much vocal in his participation, dissembled it admirably and supported Andrew and boded at the mood .
None of the women was tongue-tied or lazy, so they got along well in kitchen. Adam limited his cooperation to cutting carrots and joined in their banter when required.
His ears were attentive to catch any slip in the exchanges of information from the new comer. It was unfruitious, and for how much he summoned the futility of eavesdropping, he couldn't free himself from the nagging feeling of something happening around him. He felt it and it was unclear at all for him how he knew, but the harder he tried to shake it off, the more it returned to bite him in the butt.
Mysteries accompanied him for half of his life, and he was used to reading the signals in the silence.
Nikita and his dad were close friends, and she helped him out when he had to leave his family behind, so it was justified that they had their code of silent communication. He believed he had seen some of it while they were with Lillian and Andrew. A flash of her and his father hugging at the train station glided before his eyes. Too many particulars of this story didn't make sense together.
Was it possible that more than was told to him was between them?
Adam didn't wanted to think about it. The eventuality of his father consoled by another woman while his wife and son were mourning his death sickened him.
Lillian left to get a good bottle of wine from the cellar, and he was left alone with Nikita.
She asked him for the spoon and he passed it to her. The silence was awkward for Adam, but the blonde looked at ease. He noticed that her nails were perfectly manicured.
'' You know, I remember about you '' he said to her .
She paused before retorting to him, feigning amazement.
'' Do you? I used to baby-sit you when your parents were ...uhm , elsewhere preoccupied.''
'' Dad explained me. He also told me that you and Mom were good friends ''
Mom. A word which he had used so infrequently that he almost forgot that he had never spoken it, or had the faculty to do so.
Friends , Michael said to him. - Nikita thought.
Thinking 24/7 of the other 's husband, rolling in your sheets with him and wishing to do it until both you and he are close to dying from it , weren't qualified in any friendship book , she was sure. In the first place when she had spent all the time when she didn't feel guilty about her part in the complot envying Elena for what she was forbidden having or wanting: innocence, Michael's love, a home and a child and a life with him.
At least this was what she was tormenting over then.
'' We were friends when the circumstances let us be. But I'm very sorry she's gone: there are few people with her candid approach to the world. I respected her.''
Adam smiled sadly, envious. His clearer memory of his mother was a woman sobbing in his bed, keeping his little body very tight to hers under the covers.
'' I wish I had her known her better. Certain days I look so hard for recalling her face and nothing comes up. Others instead, I smell something or hear something, and she resurfaces, but it's all so blurry...''
He did not choose to blabber out, but it wasn't his choice to be made, and frustration had laced throughout him. His anguish was suffocated too often and too often denied even with himself. He needed to let go.
'' I know what you're talking about. I lost my father when I was very young, and I miss him although I didn't get to know him very well.''
Nikita exclaimed quietly, emphatically , her mind devoting itself at the father she lost and found twice, and more painfully every time, and who had had set her free. The man who she had felt close on a instinctual level , but had known very little.
'' It seems we have never enough time with the people we love, huh? '' She added for his benefit, shrugging it away.
'' Yeah''
In doubt about what to do or say, Adam offered to give her a hand with the potatoes and was relieved at her acceptance. He had not intended to let her in.
The suspension of dialogue didn't affect them, this time.
Here With Me - Dido
I didn't hear you leave
I wonder how am I still here
I don't want to move a thing
It might change my memory
Oh I am what I am
I'll do what I want
but I can't hide
I won't go
I won't sleep
I can't breathe
until you're resting here with me
I won't leave
I can't hide
I cannot be
until your resting here with me
I don't want to call my friends
they might wake me from this dream
and I can't leave this bed
risk forgetting all that's been
Oh I am what I am
I'll do what I want
but I can't hide
I won't go
I won't sleep
I can't breathe
until you're resting here with me
I won't leave
I can't hide
I cannot be
until your resting here with me
Continues in The next Istallement
What could, objectively, to be happened after A Time For Every Purpose? , this was the question that bugged me after last LFN episode. Being the crazy, obsessed fan who I'm, I thought and rethought until is born the first story of my " Season Six Arc" : Not Too Late To Live Again. But it is with by the second story that begins the real saga, about the difficult Nikita' s adaptation to a normal life and the further development of her relationship with Michael Samuelle. There will be spoilers from various seasons and abundance of NC-17 chapters.
BETWEEN SHADOWS OF A REMEMBERED TIME
"Those vows, those fragrances, those endless kisses, will be reborn...." - Charles Baudelaire -
Prequel
It had been three months. Three months of moving from location to location, of healing, of considering all the options. Three months spent delaying the inevitable.
Nikita knew hard decisions had to be made-- it was time. Knowledge did make what she was doing much easier. After all, she was leaving the little being who had been the solace of her solitary existence, and the man who was her equalibrium and the father of her heart, conscious that she could never see them anymore.
Josephine needed a mother, but needed a normal, real life outside more. If Nikita stayed with Walter and Josie, they wouldn't be unnoticed long: two clones walking side by side aren't a vision to pass unobserved, and people talk. One day Josephine would wake up, carefully look at her reflection in the mirror, and ask questions. Her "mother" would have to explain to her how she was the result of a genetic experiment . This would surely ruin her life. It was a miracle that she hadn't guessed anything thus far.
So, Nikita prepared herself to do what would hurt Josephine the least. She was leaving Josephine with Walter. They had developed an easy camaraderie during the past weeks and he would be a great father. Nikita heard footsteps coming and glanced up from her purse to see Walter on threshold of her bedroom.
" The taxi is waiting for you."
She perceived a sad note in his voice and, passing close to him, placed a kiss on his cheek, wanting that resigned expression to go away.. "She still won't see me?"
"Josephine will understand, she just needs time," the old man said, shaking his head.
"We will be all right, Walter."
"Yes," he acquiesced, silent for a minute. "What will you do?"
Nikita's wide smile took him aback. It was a smile that seemed to light up her soul, the smile of a woman in love.
"I've got a surprise for an old friend of ours."
Walter laughed delightedly. Sometimes good wins after all.. " Say hello for me to that lucky bastard, Sugar."
"You can count on it." Their playfulness was replaced by melancholy looks when they reached the door and realized that she had to go. It hit them that this was really the last time they would see each other. It was one thing to know that, and another thing altogether to experience the full impact of the feeling. "Walter...," she added, hand on the door handle. "Yeah?" " ... bring her to the zoo. " Nikita said this with such a solemn air, that Walter could sense the subtle meaning in it, even though she had her back turned to him.
"Not before she learns to surf." Walter and Nikita exchanged good-byes, and she finally left in the taxi.
No one had ever taken Michael's place inside her. Yes, there had been men in her life for whom she cared, but nobody compared with Michael. Human contact in Section was something that Nikita had come to crave, more as Operations than as the simple operative or mole she had been. The first had been Abraham. Operations fought hard to keep him alive, to make him overcome his emotional breakdown after his rescue. He put her on a pedestal, looked upon her as an angel guardian, a secure protector. Abraham trusted her implicitly because he badly needed to trust someone. She protected him because of her frustrated need to fix what was broken, and to reward her people for their loyalty, not just punish them for their faults.
The sex came afterwards, as an additional form of solace and reward. It was a difficult period for both. He experienced the stress of returning to the battlefield at the end of a long rehabilitation therapy; Nikita was under pressure due to a new situation with Shadow Group and Walter seemed to be shutting her out. Abraham and Nikita' s relationship stayed at the teacher- student level, in which each one gave the other support. There had been one point, Nikita knew, when Abraham's feelings could easily have turned into love if she had encouraged him. But she didn't, and the physical part of their relation vanished spontaneously, when the need ebbed.
Then there had been Ivan, an influential person in Oversight, who collaborated with Section One on some occasions. Ivan was 30 years older than Nikita, a ruthless man who was competent, exacting and observant of his duty. His terrible sense of humor very often led to remarks that were biting and irritating. However, Ivan seemed to think Nikita was a capable person and urged her to learn from him. What Nikita admired in Ivan was his capacity to take time for himself, to forget Section and enjoy the simple pleasures of life, like theater ( he was an amateur) or good jazz music. Ivan was actually one of the few with whom Nikita could have an intelligent conversation about cookery or musical tastes. Also, he highly appreciated beautiful women. They enjoyed each other's company, more for an occasional exchange of reciprocal pleasure rather than trust or fulfillment of any void.
The last was Liam, the man who gave her the Red Files. He was indirectly responsible for her freedom, and his memory caused her discomfort.
None of them, however, could make the ache for Michael go away. Perhaps she did not want to be without it. To love is a choice, and Nikita chose to love that man against the facts, against her better judgment, against her will. But with all her heart and soul.
CHAPTER 1
The day started badly for Michael Dupreè. He didn't have much rest the past night, was entirely too angry for it. Adam was becoming a constant preoccupation. How did he dare answer his father in such an arrogant manner yesterday afternoon? You reproach your son for coming home late, without letting you know beforehand, and this was the result?! And what was that mocking tone ? Adam would never have answered Elena in that manner. God, Michael couldn't remember a time in his life that he had been without a clue, as he was now. He had given up everything that he knew, possessed and loved in order to raise his son properly, and he felt as if he had failed anyway. One moment Adam was the best kid in the world, and the next moment he was a spoiled brat. What exactly had Michael done wrong?
This last question burned in his brain, while he stared at the computer screen in his small office. He waited for Ben Simmons, his colleague and casual friend, to bring him some papers. Work would help him control his anger the way it always had in the past . As he was mulling over these thoughts, Michael was distracted by a distinct knock at the door. Ben didn't ever knock-- he just burst in hurriedly. Michael's breath stopped when he caught sight of, not the little man, but someone very well known and very... unexpected.
" Hello, Michael," an Australian--accented voice said. Nikita entered the room with a sense of Deja vu. The interior decoration, or lack of it , was very similar to Michael 's old Section office.
She drank in his image, examining him carefully. Age had been generous to him; his skin showed no wrinkles. His hair was shorter and he had grown his beard, partially to cover his perfect features. However it also gave him a paternal look that only added to his fascinating charisma, and made his jade eyes come alive. His clothing was more carefree and colorful. " Hello, Ni-ki-ta " He thought she was beautiful. Her hair curved toward her face just under her jaw, her make-up emphasized her sensual red lips and the sapphire blue of her eyes. A black suit and jacket fit her slender body like a glove, with a touch of cobalt blue adding color in the scarf around her neck. "Why she was here? Did Section need him?" His thoughts immediately jumped to certain conclusions.
" I like your office," Nikita commented, exploring the surroundings. " It is familiar , don't you think ?," she hinted , gauging his reaction. " What are you doing here?" "Typical Michael: right to the point"- Nikita joked, impulsively feeling the need to maintain control of the situation by keeping him in the dark until she could check her emotions again . She adopted her best strategy, apparent self confidence, that had spared her a lot of problems in her life. Michael watched with fascination the woman whom he had loved for the major part of his existence coming, unperturbed, toward him. She stopped just in front of his desk . With a little smile, reminiscent of Mona Lisa , she confessed fervently :"I'm out, Michael. Truly out." Michael tried to think of something to say. But he could only see and was lost in the unique shade of her eyes. Those eyes that had haunted his sleep and that he remembered so well. She, too, was lost in him, and could just hear the loud beating of her heart. Their dilemma, unfortunately, did not last not more than few minutes. Because it was at that moment when Ben invaded the office. " Michael..."
Finding two pairs of intense pupils fixated on him, he had the unexplainable, uncomfortable impression that he had just ruined a very private moment.
" I'm sorry , I didn't know ..." " No trouble. I was just going." Nikita quickly interrupted the attempt to remedy his error, then added , returning her attention to Michael: " I will be having dinner at Axel's tonight at eight o'clock.. I will leave a reservation for you at my table, in case you decide to join to me. See you later."
" Later, Nikita."
After hearing his reply, the statuesque blonde took her sunglasses out of the breast pocket of her jacket , put them on and was gone as suddenly as she came. As Nikita nonchalantly passed him, Ben's eyes followed the most gorgeous creature he had ever met until she was out of sight.
Then he turned to Michael, only to observe that his companion was still staring at the closed door.
CHAPTER 2
Nikita sat quietly at her table that evening, very pleased with what she had accomplished. She had managed to confront Michael in neutral territory and arrange a meeting, er, a date, with him. Besides, she was fairly certain of her appeal and anxious to see his reaction to her.
She had chosen their meeting place well. Axel's had an intimate atmosphere, even if was a rather domestic locale. It was not enhanced by live music or any particular décor, but the soft, warm glow of recessed lighting, and the small amount of clientele, gave it a feeling of comfort and relaxation.
Nikita felt beautiful. She had prepared herself in the way she felt Michael would like to see her -- her hair smoothly gathered in a sophisticated French knot at the back of her head; her red sleeveless dress exposing creamy shoulders and a teasing portion of her breasts, and the side slits of her dress showing still shapely, long legs. Her body was taut, muscular and ageless. Her appearance was reinforced to her by the desirous looks of the restaurant's male clients as she passed them. Unfortunately for them, she was interested in the appreciation of only one specific individual.
With the grace of a panther, Michael crossed Axel's threshold precisely on time, and was immediately spotted by Nikita. Their eyes met and locked together as he strode deliberately and unhurriedly toward her. He was as dangerously handsome as ever, and he had shaved for her. How flattering.
When they were finally face to face, seated across from each other, Michael's penetrating glance left no part of her untouched. He was clearly in Section-machine-mode--dressed in black, deadly blank tone, all defenses up--just as Nikita remembered.
" What did you mean when you said you 're out?"
She replied to him with the same bluntness: "Exactly what I said. I'm out of the Organization, Michael. I'm free, permanently."
"And you've returned to me?" His accent was getting heavier, a good sign, Nikita reasoned.
"There's nowhere else I'd rather be, so if you want me with you again ..."
" I never stopped wanting you."
He took her hand and slowly kissed it. They smiled at each other: their nightmare was over. Michael caressed her fingers reverently, as if to assure himself that she was real, not a fantasy of his mind. Their all-too- brief amorous contact was interrupted by the arrival of the waiter to take their order. Nikita was enjoying the feeling of Michael's gaze on her while she read the menu
" How did you get out?" Michael asked, as he poured the wine.
"I believe you could say that I learned some, perhaps improper, strategy from the Jurgen situation. My father wasn't very happy with the way things turned out, and cleared his conscience by giving me an alternative to cancellation. Call it imposed retirement: I have to stay out of the business for the remaining of my, hopefully long, life. And yes, I have my guarantees."
"So, he wasn't dead."
"No, he had moles and simulated the scene in order to coerce me to stay. He took a big risk, through I can't wholly blame him, considering what the other options were at the time."
The waiter served them their plates and they started eating, without ever take their eyes off one another.
Michael was actually ashamed of himself: there he was with his beloved, after six years apart , and his tortured mind could only think lustful thoughts. He needed her--needed to bury himself somewhere inside her so deep that they could never again be parted. He wanted to hear her moan his name with desire and with no regard to time or space. He needed to feel her tremble beneath him, and to cherish her total abandonment to his love. He wanted to kiss her, instead of watching her from afar, and love her until both realized the force of their connection. He wondered about the texture of her hair, he loved to fondle it after they made love.
Nikita, from her side, had no intention of sleeping alone this night. She was fed up with being a soldier, was tired of battling her fears and conscience alone. Tonight, she just wanted to be a woman, his woman. She wanted to let her mask slip and have him without thinking about tomorrow. If Michael could be hers, and let her love him one time more,... the future wouldn't matter.. Just his stare could melt her, as it was doing now.. She wanted him to devour her like a flame, like the extremely passionate man she had known.. She yearned so much for the feeling of his arms encircling her, that her entire being was trembling with overwhelming desire for him.
But necessity had taught them patience, they could be temporarily content with verbal communication.
"How's Adam?" Nikita asked, starting the conversation.
Michael told her about his son, and she told him about Josephine and Walter. And they talked of all the other everyday little things of life.
They had to catch up with the six years they had been apart.
CHAPTER 3
Michael and Nikita ate slowly, savoring their conversation, but at the same time desiring an altogether different kind of nourishment. They knew what was in store and enjoyed the luxury of taking their time; however the end of dinner was the start of a crescendo of anticipation. The waiter brought the check; its payment finally allowing the couple to leave.
Restored and refreshed, the two came out of the restaurant walking closely side by side. "Adam is sleeping over at his friend's house tonight," Michael said, making the first step as Nikita predicted he would.
She answered his proposal with her languid, seductive smile-the one that never failed to tempt him. " The Inn where I'm staying isn't very far. Let's walk."
Nikita hesitantly brushed her fingers against his in unspoken invitation, and Michael took them, placing his palm firmly against hers. Like characters in a long-ago story, the lovers wandered into the night-- living spirits of an unforgotten time.
The Inn was very small, and Michael was surprised at the anonymity of Nikita's living space. It consisted of a bathroom , round table with four chairs , small bedroom facing the entrance, and a tiny foyer where an old carpet covered the floor. The only personal objects were the infamous sunglasses collection and a group of different colored and shaped candles upon a shelf.
" I've lived here for just two days " Nikita carelessly threw her coat on a chair, and started to let her hair loose as she walked toward Michael. He recognized her seductive behavior and his desire flamed at her siren call. She kissed him, just grazing his lips, and withdrew, swiftly blocking his hands in motion.
" No more borrowed time, Michael. It's all ours now."
Michael let his jacket fall to the floor ; his hands seized her hips, pressing her roughly against him. Nikita felt his hot, irregular breath on her skin and put her hands on his shoulders. She knew his barely controlled passion was ready to explode, and she stood still, waiting for him to take the lead.
Eye to eye, lips only centimeters away, she had difficulty in not encouraging him, especially being in contact with the evidence of his arousal. Her requisite response to him was basic, an old instinct easily recalled. She was aware of nothing but him, his closeness, the living heat spreading between her legs. Michael captured her lips with his-his tongue greedily dancing in and out of her mouth. Nikita returned the kiss with the same eagerness. Her one hand curved around the base of his neck, the other fingered his hair, drawing him closer and closer.
His hands, too, wanted to be familiar again with her body: moving feverishly up from her hips, strongly gripping her shoulders, before reluctantly letting go to open the dress zipper, and then sliding under the dress all along her back. Without ever breaking the kiss, Michael lifted her up, like a husband with his new bride, and brought her into the bedroom. He laid her on the bed, then scanned his love's face, trying to impress every detail in his memory. He wanted her so much that it was killing him, but wanted also to remember everything of this night.
" Michael." Her voice sounded pleading and hoarse, strange to her. To him, it was a prayer that he could never resist.
They undressed each other hurriedly, touching there and here, giving each other tiny, quick kisses.. Michael again took full possession, raining opened-mouth kisses on her lips, cheekbones, eyelids, then burying his nose in the crook of her neck, inhaling the scent of her skin. He licked, sucked , bit playfully in that tender sensitive point of pleasure that only he knew; until he finally heard her capitulating light cry. It was as if he could distinguish their love, so powerful and ardent , so violated and repressed, bursting desperately inside him , inside her, between them.
She arched her back towards him and her fingers gripped his bottom, obeying a voice in her mind that chanted: closer, closer.
It could never be too close.
It felt as if her world was breaking into pieces and he was her anchor, her salvation. He was it. ********************************** CENSURED SCENE - the Nc17 scene is cut. Since when this syte don't approve about sexual explicit language, if you want the complete story you must ask me directly and i will send it to you ***************
They disengaged, gasping for air, damp with sweat, huddled together, seeking each other's comfort even in exhaustion. They grew aware of how emotionally and physically draining their thirst had been; finally collapsing.
A unfamiliar contentment flowed into them, cradling them in dreamless oblivion.
Chapter 4
Having slept serenely, without any boundaries of time, Michael became gradually conscious of his new reality. The first difference he detected from the norm was the strong smell of sex lingering in the room, a room he didn't immediately recognize. Light peeked in through the semi closed shutters of the window, reflecting a blonde head curled up under his chin. He moved slightly in order to see her face, just to be sure it was really her, dreading that it wasn't. Yes, it was really Nikita.
She seemed peaceful, and reacted to his slight movement by reaching for him and resting her head on his chest. He smiled at the memory of watching her beside him at night, when he couldn't sleep, and how she always involuntarily looked for his presence, like now. Michael traced her spine, appreciating the silkiness of her skin. He had always loved to touch her; his eyes filled with boundless joy in seeing her .
Once Section had denied him the right to love her, a right that he had forbidden himself initially. Because of Simone and Elena, because of his orders, because of his feelings of guilt, stealing glances and casual touches had to be enough. He needed to have her near him in order to feel alive, even if she hated or despised him. He felt he didn't deserve her love. But she loved him, and her love saved him in more ways than one.
It was after the loss of Adam that the final barrier broke. He had no more reason to restrain his longing, to hold back from the strength of her temptation . She had become his reason to exist. Even then, he had to wait for the right place, the right time, the right situation.... now instead he could touch her anywhere he wanted, for as long as he wanted, and stare at her unless she asked him to stop.
A strange sensation seized his heart then, engulfed everything he was . It was like floating in the infinite, like, like.... like flying. Like. being unlimited, free. What was it? Nikita snuggled up to him and Michael sighed. The sensation intensified. He admired the slim body entwined with his. Proudly, he outlined the marks he had placed upon her during their indescribably ecstatic night. Just the first of many, he thought. If he had his way, they would have much to look forward to.
Smoothing her hair away from her neck, Michael noticed two marks not resulting from their amorous encounter: they were circular and seemed to be derived from some kind of neural stimulation. He made a mental note to ask her about it later. Also, making note of her exceedingly thin body, he would invite her to eat out more often. Michael held her closer.
A guttural sound advised him his lover was awakening. "Good morning," he greeted her, softly touching her hair.
Nikita grinned at him sheepishly. "Morning."
She looked at him with a dreamy, smiling expression and stretched out her hand to caress his jaw, then his lips. She tugged and circled, causing him to nip and then suck at her thumb. Extracting her digit from the delectable vice of his tongue, Nikita felt a surge of love overcome her utterly. He was perfect, he was hers and he was here. She couldn't ask more from life. Everything was the way it should be. "I missed you very much," she admitted, massaging his chest like it was the most interesting part of his body.
Michael took her head in his hands, to compel her to look him in the eyes. "I love you," he intoned unconditionally.
His declaration shocked her, but Nikita quickly covered the surprise flashing in her limpid blue orbs by ravishing his lips.
"I'm going to take a shower," she said while rising and slipping out of the bed. The mischievous turn of her smile suggested she hoped not to be alone. Lustfully regarding her retreating nude form and her wiggling backside, Michael's lips tugged lightly upward.. There was no doubt about it.. She was enticing him and doing a superb job of it.
It didn't matter even if she wasn't fully sure of her feelings for him. She had come to him and that was proof enough. He, himself, had been reluctant with words before, and knew that actions often talked louder. In time, Nikita would remember, and he was determined to see to it personally. She would fall in love all over again, he swore, closing his eyes and listening to her turn on the water. He thought he would give her a few more minutes before getting out of bed to join her.
CHAPTER 5
With a frustrated sigh, Nikita let the hot water buffet and calm her. She couldn't quite explain her earlier panic at Michael's suddent revelation. If there was a certainty in her life, it was that she loved him, now more than ever. Yet, she was hesitant to tell him.
Hearing Michael enter the bathroom, she put these introspective thoughts aside, and by the time he stepped into the shower, any sign of distress was gone from her mind and from her person. ********************************** CENSURED SCENE - the Nc17 scene is cut. Since when this syte don't approve about sexual explicit language, if you want the complete story you must ask me directly and i will send it to you ***************
Along time after, Michael and Nikita separated, grinning, and sensuously kissing. They got out of the shower, walking unsteadily, and sat on the bed, exchanging soulful looks.
"I have to get going. I have an appointment at The Crown within an hour," Michael said, twisting her gold strands.
Nikita leaned her forehead against his, and murmured sultrily, unbeareably close to his mouth, "Will I see you for lunch?"
"Yes", he whispered back right before he recaptured her in a searing kiss. Reluctantly, the two, almost fallen back on the mattress, drew apart and started to focus on their plans for the day. They watched each other as Michael gathered his scattered clothing from the floor and Nikita wrote her cell phone number on a piece of paper. They still held each other's gaze as Michael dressed, restraining the power of reborn desire. After Michael put on his jacket, Nikita slipped her phone number into his pocket.
"Call me when you're done."
"Of course."
Fearing to get carried away, they said goodbye with a quick peck on the lips. Michael caressed her cheek, unwilling to go, and Nikita covered his hand with hers, wishing to steal few precious moments . She kissed his palm and let it go.
Michael turned, looking back a last time, and walked to the door. Nikita waited until it was closed, then returned to bed, rolled into the sheets, and drifted into a dead sleep.
Chapter 6 A
Michael stared impatiently into space, inwardly cursing Ben's lateness. He had signed a contract with a new small musical group to play at his pub, The Crown, and would have been finished for the day after they had discussed some technical matters. He could think of better ways to use his time than idly sitting here waiting for Ben.
Nikita: He could be kissing , touching or talking to her. Instead he was here, waiting. He trusted her when she told him he was free, knowing she had never harmed him or Adam. Michael read this truth in Nikita's eyes, but understood too well that there were other matters they had left unresolved. Any semblance of time or space was in past as blocked for him, and was only now ebbing to allow his return to reality.
He had only left her few hours ago, but missed her. Having Nikita close but not with him, increased, rather than eased his need to be near her.
He seen changes in her. Her eyes were older and wiser; the confidence of her gestures and attitude successfully masked her feelings. Only a man who had spent years deciphering her every step and smile, could unmask those feelings. He wanted find what was behind those changes, behind this new Nikita. Her absolute need of him showed in the way she looked at and caressed him, her tears, the strength with which she held onto him. The old Nikita needed him, but not this way, not the way he needed her. Maybe she just hadn't known it then.
His mind was filled with thoughts of her, memories of their past, questions about their future. For once, there was no bitterness or pain in them. For once, since his recruitment into Section One, Michael looked forward to tomorrow with hope, instead of dread.
Michael loved Nikita more intensely than he could ever have imagined, yet she wasn't the ideal woman of his boyhood fantasies. In his youth, sex represented adventure and discovery, not the duty and detachment of the skilled Section Valentine op Michael had become. Michel liked brunette petite women, delicate and feminine. Simone and Elena fit perfectly into that category, although for the latter he felt only brotherly affection.
He had often noticed Simone talking with his mentor, Jurgen. Simone and Jurgen were close friends, and it was rumored they were, or had been, an item. A few years older than Michael, Simone had the look of a china doll with an athletic and beautifully contoured body that felt small and sheltered under his. Graceful and elegant, with ebony hair and fair skin, she was the embodiment of his boyhood vision, which he had thought was unobtainable..
As frequently happened, Madeline knew Michael's desire, and planned to use it to induce Michael to exploit his talents. Simone was a good operative. Her oriental philosophy of submission made her receptive to Section's policies, and therefore an excellent influence on Michael for his integration into that great mechanism.
Often paired on missions with Simone, Michael discovered her to possess a soul strong and reserved, with an iron temper under a refined exterior. He was attracted to her beliefs and sense of honor, which were very similar to his own. They began as occasional lovers, and escalated to being in love.
Neither being very talkative, they rarely discussed their pasts before One, their relationship based on respect of each other's need for silence. Simone and Michael found in each other's acceptance, someone who was willing to listen without question, who helped to live in the present. They held on to each other for survival.
In another lifetime, under normal circumstances, maybe they would have been just friends. Michael harbored a profound admiration for his first wife. The Vietnamese beauty was clever, patient, and calm. Her discreet presence warmed their home, and her counsel soothed him when he was preoccupied or angry. She didn't like to argue, but had more subtle ways of bringing him to do what she wanted.
Simone loved taking long walks, for hours and hours, talking of nothing. She would tell jokes, and laugh when Michael didn't understand them. Operations and Madeline sanctioned the affair, valuing its benefits for their heir and his integration . They were convinced that the prominent valentine role both played in their missions would break them up, sooner or later. Instead, Michael and Simone grew closer, relieving in reciprocal contact, and decided to marry.
Their union wasn't perfect, as Nikita presumed: sometimes Simone got too maternal, sometimes Michael got too bossy. Sometimes, they solved their problems with sex. They only lived for the present. Simone dealt with the Vacheck blood cover mission as she dealt with all the other valentine assignments of Michael's: she ignored it.
Simone had high self-esteem and let nothing and no one put her down. However, Jurgen had often been the recipient of her tirades on her loneliness. As for Michael, he strove to live split in two: First, his Section persona--divided between his absorbing field work as a cold operative, and Simone; Second: his blood cover mission as the devoted fiancèe / husband of Elena and father of Adam. It was difficult for him to maintain any distance with his mission's "victim" after their marriage. Elena's genuine enthusiasm and dedication to Michael made him feel guilty.
Elena's happiness at expecting their first child was crushed when she had a miscarriage, after which Michael was particularly protective of her. He suspected Section of somehow being responsible. The loss of a child, might compel her to look for another family member-her father. As a bonus, it might strengthen her dependence on her husband, making her more accessible to Section's manipulation.
Naturally , Michael didn't tell Simone about any of this. He grieved with Elena , tried to help her to recover, himself struggling with remorse. The blood cover stole from his time with Simone, already halved from the frequency of their separate assignments. They saw each other less and less, behaving like nothing had changed when they did, making their time together seem surreal.
The night before the Glass Curtain mission they had an argument. Simone accused Michael of not giving her enough attention, of being passive. He replied that he had other matters to think of. There was still tension between them when Simone requested back up for the mission and Michael told her it wasn't necessary. His refusal would forever haunt him. Simone' s death was hard on him: He lost the only person he trusted, his only true friend and confidant and in addition, he carried the guilt he felt at not granting her request for backup, felt he had betrayed her.
Michael wanted to hate Elena for taking Simone' s rightful place, but he couldn't. Elena offered him an ideal fantasy life far from Section, but in reality, she was deceived and hurt. It angered him that he was capable of such horrible feelings, and the self-loathing ate him up.
Six months after the presumed death of Simone, Madeline realized that the behavior of Section's top operative was marginal, which could endanger the capture of Salla Vacheck. Operations and his head-strategist decided that some action needed to be taken and agreed that a full time activity would keep him in line. The following day, Madeline put Michael in charge of the training of a difficult , but intelligent recruit named Nikita.
And things were never again the same.
CHAPTER 6 B
The first encounter between Michael and Nikita wasn't special at all. He intently read and memorized her file, but it made no particular impression upon him. Mechanically he had programmed his approach to her, and Nikita reacted as had every other recruit. How many of those sessions had he performed?
During their sessions, Nikita's personality and spirit gradually began to intrigue him, without his even being aware of it. It was his job to watch and evaluate her, uncovering her strengths and weaknesses. Therefore, he thought of his interest in her as part of his duty. Duty. And therefore, his determination to figure her out was justified-it was just work. Just work, although he easily forgot that. She was defiant and innocent, rebellious and caring, aggressive and lively... combinations that astonished him.
Nikita was a puzzle, a challenge that he wanted to win. Or so Michael believed. His subconscious probably knew better. Fantasies, carefully repressed while he was awake, returned in full force at night, compelling him to take more notice of his attraction for his material. It was normal, Michael rationalized: Nikita was not only very beautiful and sexy, she was different. Pure. He felt he was reacting to her on a merely physical level, because his libido and his heart didn't die with Simone. He felt his need to protect her was normal too, she deserved a chance to live. And her naiveté reminded him of his sister Martine.
Michael tried hard to find the killer instinct in her, anything unpleasant that could reduce her impact on him, but it was useless: Where he looked for malice, he found spontaneity. There simply was nothing he could do to prevent his recruit from getting under his skin. Nikita confused him, inspiring in him feelings so different: frustration, tenderness, passion, wonder, fear, guilt, pride. Every one of these feelings overwhelmed him at different times, lacerating the systematic order of his existence by allowing Nikita to become its center.
Michael fought the heartrending impulse to have her, but his fantasies became conscious and, having no control over them, he surrendered to them. He never stopped loving Simone, he still missed her, but Nikita took over his heart and soul forcibly, relentlessly, digging deeper and deeper. Even though he felt his uncontrollable desire and affection for Nikita soiled Simone' s memory, he was helpless to stop it. He couldn't believe what a horrible monster he was , to profess undying adoration for his deceased wife, sleep with Elena and be obsessed with his material.
Since Michael met Nikita, he, who had been so certain of his bond with Simone, often questioned if he had ever really been in love with her. As far as his love for Nikita, he was sincere when , during their captivity under Red Cell, he told her that he didn't know what love was. Was it the sense of acceptance, of familiarity that Simone gave him? The blind veneration that Elena had for him? Or was it how painfully alive he felt in the proximity of his blonde valkyrye?
He didn't lie about loving Simone when he found her in Glass Curtain's basement, but what he was experiencing with Nikita was something he had never felt before. She seemed to touch all the cords of his spirit and made them vibrate in unison. From the very beginning, when she was his material, he considered her his own. Later he protected and mentored her as his lover. Maybe it was the latter that spurred his singular possessiveness of her.
He had never been the jealous type, never needed any woman with whom he was involved, to have eyes only for him. That was his relationship with Simone; she was her own person. With Nikita came the uncertainty and jealousy; the rage toward other men in her life, men who could do what he longed to, but was forbidden to him. Jurgen, Gray, Chandler, Helmut had incited in Michael bitter resentment and a need to remove them at the first possible opportunity. Although he paid no attention to his non-Section half, he was intolerant of any man who came near Nikita. Even on a mission, he was unable to stand the thought of her being touched by another, and defended his place beside her tooth and nail. Michael loved her, knew she belonged outside of his life, and couldn't conceive of an existence outside of hers.
Michael never realized the extent of his need for her before he thought her dead in the suicide mission. He was lost without her, frozen in the impossibility of accepting her absence , furious beyond belief at his role in it, nestled in regret. Then his angel was returned, bringing back a hurricane of conflicting emotions. He was terrified at the thought of losing her again.
When Adam was born, and placed in his arms, Michael felt the barriers pulverized he had erected at Adam's gestation. He was enchanted to see the minuscule creature moving in his embrace. He loved his son immediately, with all the joy he could muster, although the baby boy took after Elena in personality and looks. The little miracle was one of his own making. Michael was a good father to Adam and made the child happy. He pondered about his lack of permanence in his son's world, and decided that it wasn't a completely negative factor. The thought of ruining Adam like he ruined Martine, Simone, Nikita, René, almost killed him and only the need to protect Nikita restored his sanity.
Every day, Michael found his love for Nikita growing, and every day she became a bigger part of him. Even his perception of himself changed because of her feelings for him, to the point that it was impossible to separate him from her. They were one. Nikita's ultimate betrayal broke Michael, teaching him how much it hurt to have the most important part of himself ripped away, listening her say the words he dreaded the most.
When they were finally reunited, Adam needed a parent and Michael couldn't let him down, not a second time. There was no real joy in Nikita and his dreamed--of rejoining, but instead a bittersweet relief: Michael had his little boy back, but at an abominable price .
Michael couldn't bring himself to say what seemed to be a final goodbye to Nikita. It was an awful choice Michael had to make, between his beloved and his son. In conclusion, the choice was made for him: Adam was the major realization of his life, his shelter from pain and darkness, and Nikita was his soul. No one can live without a soul, even if it was the right thing to do.
Chapter 9a
4 ½ weeks latter Nikita was watering the plants in her new apartment. The place was a triumph of hanging virtue, filled with ornamental plants, objects of minimal dimension which were pleasing to the eye but were of no practical use: cruets of colorful blown glass, book shelves of painted wood overflowing with an eclectic variety of worn leather bound novels, ceramic plates, all hand painted and finely decorated, along with a colorful array of water colors adorned her walls.
Michael who was in the kitchen preparing their breakfast smiled at her in amusement, he had already voiced his opinion of Nikita's unique décor, and his declaration of the place being overdone was met with smile and an amused laugh.
She had landed a job as an independent artistic consultant at a public relations firm.
The flexibility of her hours left her a good amount of time for herself, time she used to work on her apartment.
The result being that the place was almost starting to feel like a home. Almost because she only truly felt at home when she was with Michael.
Nikita placed the watering can in the sink and now moved about the kitchen helping Michael finish the breakfast preparations.
It had become their routine, every morning after Adam left for school Michael would join Nikita for breakfast.
Milk for Nikita and coffee for Michael, bread and orange marmalade for this morning's meal, and then they would set off for work.
Everyday at noon they would meet for lunch and if time permitted, they might enjoy some time together in the afternoon. It didn't matter what they did or where they went, they were together and that is all that mattered.
Every night once Adam was asleep in his bed, Michael would check the security system from his office at the Crown and once assured of his son's safety, he would continue to work until his sun-haired mistress would make her appearance and distract him into getting whatever she wanted from him.
Before dawn Michael would return to Adam and Nikita would be left alone in her bed.their bed.
Their idyll had everything to do with the fact that they challenged and balanced one another as only two people gifted with the same charisma and taste for power. They were discovering each other again, and were happily surprised to learn that they both loved to play the same sensual games of cat and mouse.
Games where they were free to explore at leisure the countless avenues of the others mind, pleased with their own technique and with their opponent.
Michael was amazed and thrilled by Nikita's emotionalism combined with her need to control.
While Nikita admired Michael's ability and knowledge of how to get the reactions he wanted from her. Only Michael knew how to handle Nikita, and only to Michael would Nikita give that kind of power to.
The couple currently breakfasting in the kitchen represented a sheer contrast: a Nordic predator wrapped loosely in a mauve silk nightgown, her hair mussed, eating with unnatural relish bread and marmalade, licking the butter off of her fingers.
And a silent alpha male in his black suit politely sipping his café au lait, trying to decide if he preferred this new piece of lingerie or the blue one that matched her eyes, and just where did she find so many stimulating night clothes anyhow? He could just wonder.
Diverting his overactive imagination from the strap that had fallen from her shoulder revealing her creamy smooth skin that he had so recently caressed and loved, Michael was lost in the vision of her lips carelessly enclosing the full length of her finger into the warmth of her mouth.
She was delicious, he thought to himself, and usually it was when her guard was down that he surprised her with these meaningless but sexy gestures that were so typically hers. Would he, after so long a separation be content with just anything he could get from her, with only these stolen moments? His heart didn't think so, and his reasoning had nothing to do with the amount of attention she paid him, he knew he would always crave more of her. Their present arrangement, even if satisfactory, was far from his true desires.
They had agreed to keep Adam out of the equation until they were both ready to face the inevitable questions their relationship was sure to raise with the boy.
Nikita closed the marmalade jar and set it aside feeling loaded with the energy to start a new day.
Whether it was the sugar filled breakfast or the reserved businessman seated next to her giving her so much optimism she was uncertain. All she knew was that every time he crossed the threshold of her door she was ready to face whatever the day would bring.
" I have an appointment with Dr. Portman this morning. It's close to that antique store you said you wanted to visit. I was thinking that we could drop in if you can free yourself?"
Michael looked up from his coffee smiling into her gaze.
" Today will not be possible. Adam and I are going to visit Lillian and Andrew; we will probably be staying the night and return tomorrow evening. "
Mr. And Mrs. Thomas had once been the friendly neighbors of the Dupree men. They moved away a few months ago to a countryside home not very far from Boston after Andrew developed respiratory problems. Lillian, not having had children of her own " adopted " Adam from day one.
The Thomas's often kept the boy in their home when Michael had to leave on business to ensure their cover.
For his side, Michael liked the old couple and respected them for their kindness and consideration. They also offered company without violating his privacy with inappropriate questions.
He and Andrew had a common interest in classical music and played their share of duets, one with the cello and the other with the piano. Adam loved them like the grandparents he never had.
" You didn't tell me" She was vaguely annoyed; it wasn't like he owed it to her, but she still felt a slight sting in her heart that he hadn't told her, it would have been nice to be informed.
He looked into her cunning and mysterious eyes, unsuccessfully trying to put together the coolness of her posture with the disappointment vibe in her voice. Why could she put him so off balance with so little effort?
"Lillian phoned yesterday evening. She was saying that Andrew had recently been ill. We decided last night Nikita." I didn't to mean tell you with such short notice, but I really didn't plan to be gone."
" I'm sorry Michael." Nikita sighed relaxing a little. "It isn't grave is it?"
"No.just a fever, but Adam was bothered."
"And so were you"
Michael nodded. " Yes, he's a good man."
It was his way of conveying he cared for the old couple that had treated he and Adam like family.
"Mmm.I bet he is fine and you will have a great time." She brushed past him, clearing the table.
Michael got up to help her, hesitating to voice his proposal.
"You could come with us."
It wasn't pleasant for him to be hiding his private life from his son. It made it look like he was having a clandestine affair, something cheap and unimportant. This was so much more than that. It was true that dealing with Adam's reaction in this delicate stage of his and Nikita's relationship could be problematic.
But it bothered him to sneak out of bed to get home before dawn; he hated leaving their bed.
He and Nikita were progressing nicely and he intended to ask her to move forward in their relationship and settle this issue with Adam.
Nikita was frozen for a moment, just staring back at him. She knew the time would come, but his request still shook her.
It went without saying; she wanted a lifetime with him, out in the open. However meeting Adam again was the beginning of the fight for a dream she gave up a very long time ago. Beginning to believe in that dream hadn't been easy for her, and so strong was the fear that Adam's rejection could ruin beyond repair any second chance they might have to be together.
Irrational, childlike and irrevocably true.
"Michael, Adam doesn't know about me, how will we explain my going along and spending the night with you?"
" We will remedy that.I want him to know you."
"I still have my work to do today. Why don't you go and we will plan a dinner for another time? There is no hurry ..."
He laid a hand on her shoulder stopping her before she could continue.
"Waiting will only make it worse. Listen, you can join us tomorrow for lunch, bring a gift for our host's, and I will introduce you as a good friend. You can meet two wise people and spend quality time with me and Adam.please?" He pulled her into his embrace trying to reassure her. "I will talk to Adam, he will be okay."
He told her as if her were talking to a small child. It was somewhat unnerving and it made her feel guilty.
"I shall consult Mr. Portman."
"Ni-kee-ta" he warned.
"Okay okay." She laughed and brought her arms around his neck pulling him into a deep kiss.
Breaking the kiss and resting her forehead against his she sighed.
"God I sound pathetic. It's just that.I love you ; I don't want anything to come between us. Every time my life takes a positive turn.I don't know, I just feel like all hell is going to break loose again all because I'm happy."
Michael tenderly kissed her cheek .
"Not this time. I need you promise me you will think about." "I'll think about it"
She nodded as he loosened his arms from about her waist, his hand casually skimming her bottom making him all to aware that nothing but bare skin was under the thin revealing fabric.
"I have to go now"
"Fine" Nikita replied and turned on the faucet to wash the mugs they had used. On the threshold of the kitchen, Michael turned his head to glance at her one last time before he left her for the day. BIG MISTAKE.
His eyes glued themselves to her exposed back and then traveled lower to the round curves of her ass displayed intriguingly through the sensual silk material. He felt the familiar tightening in his groin. This wasn't the time to dwell on the fact that tonight, the first in weeks he would be sleeping alone. She would not be in his arms when he fell asleep. He would be alone. The tightening intensified. It wasn't like they made love every night. Some nights they were content to just hold each other and take comfort in the others presence. No, Michael Samuelle was not a sex slave; he was capable of controlling his physical desires. "Merde".his gaze once again fell on her and he was lost. There was no turning back. All his intentions of leaving fled his mind. After all, there is no longer any danger in allowing himself to indulge in a weakness, if that weakness was her.
Chapter 9b
Nikita heard Michael retrace his steps and turned around, seeing him stand right behind her, a cute frown on his chiseled features. He looked at her as if he had something to say, but was embarassed, or could not quite come to terms with what he was feeling. It was unaccountably sweet. She turned off the water, partly out concern, partly out curiousity, and peered her head aside expectantly.
'' Forget something?''
Utterly defeated, Michael sighed, perplexed at himself and a little insecure of what she would think of him : '' I want you''. If briefly surprised, the object of his affection was hugely amused from the resigned seriousness accompanying the affirmation, and smirked pleasedly at the obvious inspection of his eyes over her . '' Yeah?'' '' Yes.'' She could swear he was blushing. Michael- blushing..... WOW. Although the crazy idea of teasing him before giving in was alluring, she took pity on him and spared him to clearify exactly what he wanted from her. A shy Michael was a very, very sexy Michael. She closed the distance between them with two steps, staring him suggestively. It wasn't often she had the chance to make her mate more hot and brothered than she was in their coupling. '' You can have me anytime - she caught his hand , moving up to cup her cheeck- but first.....'' She guided him to a chair and motioned for him to sit ''.. get confortable''
********************************** CENSURED SCENE - the Nc17 scene is cut. Since when this syte don't approve about sexual explicit language, if you want the complete story you must ask me directly and i will send it to you *************** time after ..
While their mingled breath regularized, they refused to break the enchantement of their intimate union. Her head was confortable lying on his shoulder and her fingers played with the seldom hairs on his chest, under the unbuttoned shirt, treaded the scratches she gifted him with as a reminder.
'' Pretty intense for a quickie, huh?'' Nikita kidded him, kissing his Adam apple. Her companion laughed openly the laughter she favored: that one he preserved for when he was truly happy, and made her feel good. Why, it was her who gave him that rare kind of happiness. A laughter becoming to him, a spontaneous and personal eruption of joie-de-vivre flowing on her and making her fuzzy.
They cuddled, reluctant to give up the intimacy of one inside the other, not ready to let go the peculiar beauty of a urrepeteable communion. If only the world could consist of only that room!
'' I'll come'' she said it fleebly, so than she was hardly audible.
'' Thank you'' he breathed in victory and relief caressing her leg and smooching her ruffled hairs.
''I'll come for the meal, but i wont stay for the night like some loose woman luring you in the oblivion. I dont want to give the wrong impression....''
Michael smothered her with kisses upon her reply and succeeded to make her forget the trouble she was getting into.
'' Better change before you go, or Ben will tease you to death''
She gave a sympathetic look for his coworker.
'' Kita we both knew he' ll do it anyhow '' he sighed in exasperation: Ben was a womanizer , one perceptive in addition, so he would guess what they were doing and it would be very out character if he would let it go.
They were lucky that Michael had the prudence of leaving some items of clothing in her wardrobe, because what he was wearing was unreversably wrinkled. From her lying position on her sofa, Nikita glimpsed him redressing in her bedroom, with graceful moves. She loved looking him while he did it. So much could be said about a man from the way he recomposed himself after lovemaking. Michael takes his time, caring more about the results than about timeliness; he's confident, and has few inhibitions. He loves order, dislikes having focused attention on him. He's full of grace, aware of his resources and his strengths, at least with her, comfortable with his body and his sexuality. Her mind was hurting from the memory of her watching him performing the same actions the morning after they found each other, and it followed in rapid succession, memories of many joyful moments in this apartment.
Nikita looked down, in attempt of killing the feeling building up in her, overtaking her judgment. She wanted to be coolheaded, but her heart wasn't listening. Her heart quickened its beats, strongly so.
Panic rising.
Why was it happening to her of all the people?
Just a little bit more time.....
Take a grip , you can handle it. You always handle it.
No. She had no control of it. No control.
She felt helpless.
Nikita passed an hand through her hairs; she hated being helpless. Like when she was a child and those men held her down...like during her latest captivity.
Feeling imaginary dirty hands on her skin, Nikita bit her bottom lip and blocked out the sensation of a bad infection invading her body. She lived through that horror. It was over.
Over.
Over-over-over.
She was allright.
She believed it only when she lifted her eyes and focused them on, for better or worse, where they would always be, on him.
Chapter 10
Nikita met Michael and Adam in front of the condo where they lived a few hours later.
By then she had control of herself, and the presentation went surprisingly smooth. Adam, therefore confused by the sudden apparition of the his father's old friend and by the succinct explanation he received on so short notice, was nonetheless polite and charming as Michael advised him to be. He didn't understand what was in the air, and his attunement with the nature of his parent roused indefinite suspicions in his young mind. His curiosity was piqued by the newcomer who was, from his confused childhood memories , one of the few teasels of his past.
In her manner, the youngest Samuelle caught some familiar traits, prominent ones in the his father's demeanor: proud nait, quick and organized but graceful gestures, the habit to scan a room with casual glances. About her, Adam concluded in his final assessment , there was the barely contained power that he, after years of pratice, learned to trace in his father. Excitement animated him, considering that her seemly fortuitous return could sedate his desire for answers.
Adam was an intuitive and reflective boy, brought forth by his upbringing in company of a man out of the ordinary like his father. The unique preparation he had received had just sharpened these qualities, although he had received his mother's acceptance and open-mindedness. Physically the resemblance was even more striking : big and expressive dark eyes, short sleek black hairs orderly combed, brown complexion, medium height . Anything in him called to life the late Elena. Nikita understood the measure of Michael's discomfort when they spoke. It was difficult seeing in your son, the ghost of the woman you betrayed in the most terrible ways. Quite curiously , there was space for something of Michael in him, and it was found in his eyes. His gaze was intense and owned a deep sense of strength and secret thoughts. Because of Nikita following them in her auto, they had no time to exchange anything other than essential pleasenteries. Nikita and Adam were looking forward to the chance to acquire a better knowledge of each other. The Thomas' country-house could not be mistaken for an estate, but it was quite large in comparison with the rest of the neighborhood. An English literature teacher before retiring, Andrew was born in a family of modest social extraction, and was used to pulling the strings. As for his wife, she was always content with little, and gave him no children , so they unawarely spared a lot of money for their old age. The occasion to put it at use presented itself when Andrew fell ill. The couple considered indulging themselves in the purchase of a small propriety of their liking, being left with no other family than each other.
The house was inserted in a stunted orchard, and very conservative inside and out.
Its wood porch was especially traditional and to Nikita the entire scenery, somewhat picturesque, looked like if it came out a old film in black and white.
Before she and Michael finished parking, Lillian' s minute frame was standing on the porch, her harms crossed in gay expectation, and walked to them.
'' Michael, Adam!'' The woman saluted both of her men with a hug , that Adam returned eagerly and Michael tolerated with his natural and well- hidden ritrosy for prolonged physical contact.
Nikita waited aside to be introduced, assessing the scene with mild curiosity. Pepper hairs striked with gray, nasal voice , long bones and unbelievably short stature. Lillian was a frail-looking woman, sustaining the signs of a past modest beauty.
Once presented, she received an enthusiastic, hearty greeting, after which the three were guided inside to join Andrew.
While she clasped his offered hand she did not wonder how he and Michael hooked up. Andrew was one of these people who are willing stay in the background, and not for lack of something to express, filled rooms with their silences. He lacked the overt giddiness of his wife, but bestowed on her a steady smile and a pleased look from under the thick lens of his spectacles. He gave her the impression of a man always ready to say exactly what he thought, whether or not you listened or not.
Surveying the development of the situation and giving few imputs here and there, Michael was left rather satisfied. It proceeded how he had hoped. Nikita easily captured the interest of their hosts and, most importantly, she and Adam were reacting well to each other. Conciliating his past and his future was feeling less complicated than he believed possible, so he was a little puzzled. It didn't escape him a trail of pride, while with the tail of his eye he watched Nikita' s naturalness in showing herself. They had prevalently been alone with the past weeks, for obvious reasons, so it was the first time he saw her interacting with third parties. None could have accused her of being anxious to please and, if he had not known better, he would think that this meeting with his son was ordinary as her morning jogging in the park. Perhaps he worried too much for her. After all, Nikita wasn't anymore the scared girl in the White Room or the angry young woman he used bend the rules for. Years of being at the top of the game took their toll and she had her secrets and her hard shell. She came back to him with them. The satisfaction was sufficient for he didn't notice that, regardless of his closed nature, grinning and laughing costed him no premeditation : they were natural and without fatigue. The change didn't go unnoticed to Adam.
His father had been his sole contact with the real world for most of his life.
As child, Adam had adored him, had regarded him with mystification and never thought he could be wrong. But becoming man, he wished for a more direct confrontation. An approach that his father had not encouraged or let. Michael was all right with the present course of things and, though he loved his son beyond his future, he felt nobody should have penetrated the shield guarding his innermost thoughts, feelings and memories.
It wouldn't be wise and that shield was his defense for so long that it was more of a useful tool. It was a necessity and without it he would feel naked and weak. For all of the rebuffs of Adam's attempts, Michael balanced their relationship so that he had the upper hand and preserved his proper distance.
Unaware or not, authentic intimacy with someone scared the hell out the former spy.
Since such was the status quo, Adam was rather surprised to witness the unmistakable smoldering looks his dad addressed toward his blonde friend when he deluded himself in thinking no one was paying attention. There was a unmistakable chemistry between them, and the ensemble of facts advanced in the boy's mind of speculation.
Never in his presence did his father had show interest in females, even those who sent him clear signals of their disposability. He had simply imputed it at his private mourning for his mother. Not seldomly he had desired that they were able to mourn her together , but it happened only at an extent.
Yet there was an attractive, younger woman in seemingly confidence with him. Adam was unsure about how he was supposed react to the whole fact. Nikita was nice enough, but the concept of his father having a fancy for her was quite unsettling.
When it was time to make lunch, Lillian and Nikita retired to the kitchen. Adam slipped behind them, volunteering help.
Michael, lacking of the stereotypical male attachment to watching football (watching a match of martial arts or boxing would be more to his tastes), neither used to be much vocal in his participation, dissembled it admirably and supported Andrew and boded at the mood .
None of the women was tongue-tied or lazy, so they got along well in kitchen. Adam limited his cooperation to cutting carrots and joined in their banter when required.
His ears were attentive to catch any slip in the exchanges of information from the new comer. It was unfruitious, and for how much he summoned the futility of eavesdropping, he couldn't free himself from the nagging feeling of something happening around him. He felt it and it was unclear at all for him how he knew, but the harder he tried to shake it off, the more it returned to bite him in the butt.
Mysteries accompanied him for half of his life, and he was used to reading the signals in the silence.
Nikita and his dad were close friends, and she helped him out when he had to leave his family behind, so it was justified that they had their code of silent communication. He believed he had seen some of it while they were with Lillian and Andrew. A flash of her and his father hugging at the train station glided before his eyes. Too many particulars of this story didn't make sense together.
Was it possible that more than was told to him was between them?
Adam didn't wanted to think about it. The eventuality of his father consoled by another woman while his wife and son were mourning his death sickened him.
Lillian left to get a good bottle of wine from the cellar, and he was left alone with Nikita.
She asked him for the spoon and he passed it to her. The silence was awkward for Adam, but the blonde looked at ease. He noticed that her nails were perfectly manicured.
'' You know, I remember about you '' he said to her .
She paused before retorting to him, feigning amazement.
'' Do you? I used to baby-sit you when your parents were ...uhm , elsewhere preoccupied.''
'' Dad explained me. He also told me that you and Mom were good friends ''
Mom. A word which he had used so infrequently that he almost forgot that he had never spoken it, or had the faculty to do so.
Friends , Michael said to him. - Nikita thought.
Thinking 24/7 of the other 's husband, rolling in your sheets with him and wishing to do it until both you and he are close to dying from it , weren't qualified in any friendship book , she was sure. In the first place when she had spent all the time when she didn't feel guilty about her part in the complot envying Elena for what she was forbidden having or wanting: innocence, Michael's love, a home and a child and a life with him.
At least this was what she was tormenting over then.
'' We were friends when the circumstances let us be. But I'm very sorry she's gone: there are few people with her candid approach to the world. I respected her.''
Adam smiled sadly, envious. His clearer memory of his mother was a woman sobbing in his bed, keeping his little body very tight to hers under the covers.
'' I wish I had her known her better. Certain days I look so hard for recalling her face and nothing comes up. Others instead, I smell something or hear something, and she resurfaces, but it's all so blurry...''
He did not choose to blabber out, but it wasn't his choice to be made, and frustration had laced throughout him. His anguish was suffocated too often and too often denied even with himself. He needed to let go.
'' I know what you're talking about. I lost my father when I was very young, and I miss him although I didn't get to know him very well.''
Nikita exclaimed quietly, emphatically , her mind devoting itself at the father she lost and found twice, and more painfully every time, and who had had set her free. The man who she had felt close on a instinctual level , but had known very little.
'' It seems we have never enough time with the people we love, huh? '' She added for his benefit, shrugging it away.
'' Yeah''
In doubt about what to do or say, Adam offered to give her a hand with the potatoes and was relieved at her acceptance. He had not intended to let her in.
The suspension of dialogue didn't affect them, this time.
Here With Me - Dido
I didn't hear you leave
I wonder how am I still here
I don't want to move a thing
It might change my memory
Oh I am what I am
I'll do what I want
but I can't hide
I won't go
I won't sleep
I can't breathe
until you're resting here with me
I won't leave
I can't hide
I cannot be
until your resting here with me
I don't want to call my friends
they might wake me from this dream
and I can't leave this bed
risk forgetting all that's been
Oh I am what I am
I'll do what I want
but I can't hide
I won't go
I won't sleep
I can't breathe
until you're resting here with me
I won't leave
I can't hide
I cannot be
until your resting here with me
Continues in The next Istallement