Only a few hours to the last episode...
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Chapter 2
His hands raised up slowly.
"I'm unarmed..."
A million thoughts crossed Nikita's mind and none of then was good. Including the unsettling certainty that Amanda was also earing every word of it.
"Just answer my question! - She spatted - How did you find me?"
"It's what I do! I find people."
"You mean what Owen did, right? When he was a Reaper?"
Sam flinched for a second, he wasn't expecting a slap from his past but he chose to ignore it.
"Look... I'm not here to hurt you... you can put your gun down."
"Well, I'll decide about that. What do you want?"
Her gun still firmly pointed at his head, no signs of moving away.
Sam rolled his eyes. Unshamly he lowerd his hands and pulled an old craddle as seat and just stared at her, arms crossed, with a warming smile.
"Oh, please: make you're self at home! I don't have a gun or anything pointing at your face."
He ignored the sarcasm.
"It's good to see you're still you." - Nikita winced for a second, puzzeled. - "Your boyfriend seems to think Amanda has gotten into your head."
Her heart started to race at the sound of learning news about Michael.
"You talked with him?!"
"No." -Silence. Her heart stoped for a second, broken. -"I didn't talk with him! I was in a middle of sweet arms deal, when your boyfriend barged in on it, knocks out my buyers, destroys the arms and had the nerve of calling me 'the rat' that sold out her fiancé to Amanda's torture chair! That I have the President's blood on my hands! So... no. We didn't talk. That boyfriend of yours is an asshole! Nobody can reason with that guy when he's pissed. I still have the marks of it and a week has passed. "
Nikita couldn't stop the smile from spreading her face. An overwhelming cocktail of fellings bursting out. Michael still cared enough to fight for her. He still saw her as his fiancé, even after all that happened. He still loved her.
"So... You think it's funny?!"
Back to reality.
"Sorry to state the obvious, Sam, but you did sold me out to that chair!"
"Ok... I did. -Sam's face balanced side ways and down. - I'm... I'm sorry for that. I shouldn't done that to you of all people... What did she do to you in there, anyway?..."
His blue eyes finally reach hers and they were filled with regreat. Nikita thought she never would see this specific emotion from him, probably from Owen, but never from Sam. She stored her weapon back. Maybe she was doing a huge mistake, trusting in him once again... She tried not to think about it by the time she turned the small lamp beneath the half beaten secretary giving them only a little more light.
Sam turned his attention to the blanket on the floor near by and a set of opened canned food with plastic forks still in them. She used to had everything money could buy, since fancy cloths to high powerfull cars, now she was laying on a dirt floor and eating rubish food while being chased for every law inforcement in the world. It had been a while since he felt bad for anyone, a real long time, but tonight he remembered the feeling once again.
He also noticed her silence regarding his question. He waived his head in disapproval, only one question on his mind.
"Why?"
"Why what?" - She pretended not to understand the question.
"Why are you living like this?... Why aren't you on a beach somewhere, with that boyfriend of yours, enjoying Division early retirement?... Why kill the President of the United States, of all presidents? Everyone knows it's a death sentence! And you're smarter then that. So WHY?"
The unconfortable sensation of not being alone in this two way talk reachead her peak in Nikita's head. She had to turn off the suspicious, avert the matter away.
"WHAT DO YOU CARE?! IT'S NOT YOUR PROBLEM!"
She shoutted while running across the empty space and reached something from a bag, Sam couldn't really see.
"IT'S MY PROBLEM WHEN SOMEONE COMES AFTER ME BECAUSE OF YOU!"
He spatted back, starting to feel angry with her reaction.
Nikita aproched him in a threathning manner, just inches from his face and signal a finger on her lips for silence as she slipped a small paper into his hand.
"And I think you better leave! Now!"
Sam felt confused and angry but he reluntitly complied getting up.
"Has you wish!"
As he felt the door beeing slamed hard behind him, he unfold the paper given. Only one dribbled sentence written on it.
"MEET ME AT LOGAN'S 2 A.M."
...
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Should I continue? Please review...