Winter Bourne
Apologies for a short entry, will be updating before New Year's. Hope everyone has a great holiday!
Chapter 9 "Memory Lane, Part 1"
Nicky Parsons
Nicky was curled under the duvet in her new apartment. After days of tension, of fear, she slept, and sleeping, she dreamed of her office in Paris. Nicky frowned, displeased at her unruly unconscious for dragging her back to a place and time she wanted to forget, at least for now. She needed to be someone else.
Paris 2002
Another ordinary day in Paris, another protest march from yet another group of disaffected workers. Nicky shook her head in bemusement and turned back to her computers. The buzzer to the door rang while she was immersed in arranging the transport of updated GPS displays to her office. Startled by the unexpected visitor, Nicky checked the door monitor.
It was Conklin.
The sensation that Nicky felt was stronger than fear. A queer sensation of raw electricity raced along her nerves, leaving her feeling weak and nauseous. Conklin found out about me and Jason. She'd been warned about forming an attachment to any of the men she monitored. Though Conklin had used cruder words. She wasn't sure what Conklin would do to her or to Jason if he'd found out. She jumped to her feet as another impatient buzz rang out.
Conklin brushed past Nicky as she opened the door, busy talking on his phone. Behind him walked Danny Zorn, who gave her his usual reserved nod. Nicky was grateful for Conklin's inattention. It gave her a chance to recover her composure. Her face was calm when Conklin snapped shut his phone to glare at her.
"You have the package ready for the swap?" Conklin asked.
Nicky was used to his abruptness. Conklin never wasted time on pleasantries. She answered, "Yes, sir."
"What's the meet time and location for Azul?"
"Seventeen thirty. Outside the Regina Hotel." Nicky held out the cheap camera. She'd pried the back of it open, tossed out the camera works and replaced it with a squarish plastic blob that had been shipped to the office. As usual, she had no idea what was inside it, or of the mission specifics. Her role was to be walking outside the hotel where she'd drop the camera at the right time. Azul, in the role of a kind stranger, would pick it up and hand it to her. Then Nicky would continue on her way. Except, of course, the camera she'd be holding wouldn't be the one she'd brought.
Conklin grunted. "Give it to me." He handed the camera to Danny. "You make the exchange."
Nicky and Danny exchanged a startled look.
"Sir. I don't speak the language. Clothes-"
"You're playing a tourist, Danny." Conklin was in a pissy mood. "How hard can that be?"
Danny visibly swallowed. "Yes sir."
Conklin was prowling the office. Uncertain of what was going on, Nicky faded away to return to her computer.
"Where the hell is he?" Conklin asked Danny.
"Bourne's on his way, sir."
Nicky froze for a second.
Conklin continued to ignore her as he made another call back to Langley. Then she relaxed. No way would Conklin have a confrontation about a relationship with the two of them in the room at the same time. Besides, it wasn't as if they'd committed treason. Nicky comforted herself with the idea that worst he'd do is fire her. Or have her reassigned, with a black mark on her record showing her failure to keep her work and social life apart. Right?
The buzzer rang. Nicky froze in her seat, afraid that she'd betray the emotions she was barely keeping under control if she saw Jason. Fortunately, Danny opened the door.
Conklin snapped his phone shut. "Nicky. Go for a walk. Bring back lunch in..," he checked his watch, "ninety minutes. Salads."
Grabbing her purse, Nicky jumped up. She exchanged a careful, polite nod with Jason on the way out the door. Grateful to escape the increasing tension in the room, Nicky didn't care that Conklin had demoted her to go-fer.
Within minutes, Nicky was sinking into a chair at the Rosale café. It was one of her favorite places. The center of the restaurant's courtyard held an elaborate fountain surrounded by lush lavender plants and roses. She drank a full glass of the soft red wine that was a product of the owner's own vineyard, wanting a little buzz to calm down her nerves.
Too many odd things were going on. Conklin showing up without first calling ahead. Then summoning a Treadstone operative, let alone his heavy hitter, to meet him there in broad daylight. She hadn't dared meet Jason's eyes as she'd left, afraid that she'd do or say something stupid and Conklin would catch it.
Anxiety made her breathing quicken. She sure as hell didn't want to go back to that office. Didn't want to find out whatever it was that Conklin was planning. If he'd brought Jason in, whatever he was doing meant that someone was going to end up dead.
Except this wasn't a regular job. She couldn't walk away on a whim. The consequences were likely to be fatal.
Nicky shuddered. This wasn't the life she'd expected. She beckoned the waiter to order another glass of wine. "Un autre verre de vin, s'il vous plaît" Although she didn't have an appetite, she ordered a sandwich, "et sandwich grillé à fromage."
Of course, the sensible thing to do would be to stop seeing Jason. She wouldn't have to be so afraid all the time. She took a hefty swig of wine at the thought.
Nicky had never had a lover who treated her way Jason did. Boyfriends had bought her things, been infatuated with her looks, been proud to be seen with her. Her two college affairs had been crushes that started heavy and faded into mutual disinterest once their lust had worn out. Her first Parisian boyfriend had been fun, but he'd bored her after a few months. They all did after a while.
Jason was different.
After that first time they touched, Jason had done nothing to show that he was interested. It'd had taken Nicky a while before she realized that he hadn't trusted her. Nicky was sure that he'd suspected that her interest in him was pure fabrication, another test by Conklin to see what he'd do.
Nicky had taken the next step by committing her interest on paper, slipping him a note during one of their scheduled sessions. It'd had been simple, saying 'Let's meet for lunch'. Then she'd signed it, giving him ammunition to turn on her.
He hadn't. Instead, Jason had slipped her a note the next time he came in. Unsigned. His fingers brushing hers as he'd given it to her had made her blush. Gradually, they'd started to meet, usually over a meal. To talk.
He was so damn serious. Getting him to talk to her about anything more than trivia was hard. Coaxing a smile from him took even more work. It'd always been worth it.
That first kiss. One night as they were leaving a grubby restaurant halfway across the city he'd finally decided to take this next step. She'd never forget the thrill when he'd reached out, hesitant at first, to run his hands along her arms, embrace her. The way he'd watched her face as he leaned down to kiss her, as if waiting for her to thrust him away. Nicky had tugged him closer, eager. His tentative touch deepened, became assured, gathering her in until Nicky clung to him, wanting more.
He'd left her then. It had been more weeks of waiting and secretive planning until Jason was willing to take her to place he felt was safe enough for them to be together. She'd had to be satisfied with occasional furtive kisses that grew more and more fevered until she had started not to care about getting caught.
She'd never been so nervous before when she'd shown up for their first rendezvous at an older hotel in the heart of the city. She'd stood before the door, her heart racing, nerves thrumming in anticipation and – he hadn't been there. Nicky remembered how angry she'd been. The anger had melted into concern. She'd walked away, as fast as she she could, heading past the other worn-down tourist hotels until she could find a subway entrance.
Then a hand had slipped under her arm, and Jason had said her name. Startled, she'd simply stared up at him, too angry to speak. He'd given her a shrug, but no apology, expecting her to realize that suspicion and a fair degree of paranoia were part of his nature. She'd hadn't understood until that moment what his life was like. How he lived from day to day wondering if each stranger was a threat. Wondering if every new situation was a trap. It wasn't any wonder he suffered from severe headaches.
She'd understood and forgiven him. The rest of that night had been a lot more entertaining.
Her cell phone rang, interrupting her memories. It was another student from her German class, reminding her that she had a paper to complete. As part of her cover, she was taking classes, and had an obligation to do well enough not to get kicked out. She checked the time, ordered three salads to go, and allowed herself ten more minutes before leaving.
Nicky didn't understand her fascination with this one man. Of all the Treadstone agents, she'd never felt anything for Jason except fear. Now she loved being with him. She loved watching his face, the way the stoic expression would melt when they were tangled together in bed. The shy smile that would flicker across his mouth, then disappear. She loved the hands that knew her every sensitive place, how to evoke such passion in her that she hated that they had so few times together.
Leave Jason? She was getting to the point where she couldn't breathe without him.
