It was something just shy of a miracle that Nadine Burnier found herself with a completed Masters of Art in Psychology. Three years to start and finish it, a heavy and intense part of her life over. Well, that wasn't quite true.
Two years had been spent in classrooms with professors lecturing. One year had been a paid internship, as they called it, to the prison. Throughout this year, she also wrote her thesis. With all of this done and successful, what was her next step?
PhD in Psychology.
She felt certain that her years in the Master's program had knocked off some already loose screw, to think that she wanted the last degree. Yet when the time came, she submitted several applications and held her breath. If she could complete that, she had the world open to her.
Throughout the past three years, she had focused on the prison inmates, cases, and, as it was the hot topic that earned recognition of her name, the Villains. She had since expanded her musings, her research, to other folks. One in particular was DNAmy, a woman who had gone off the cliff in academia. She wrote it almost ironically in two senses. One, of course, was the fact that she herself was in academia and surely people questioned if she was foreshadowing her own transformation. The other irony was simply that she was seeing, sleeping, and interviewing DNAmy's obsessive crush: Monkey Fist.
Since their first night together at the end of the first semester, they had been in…contact. It wasn't quite frequent, but it was more than a handful of times. Since Monkey Fist had told Nadine how to contact him, she had 'googled' him only twice. Once had been from a failed paper – Nadine had a bit of a breakdown after that for a few days until Monkey Fist talked sense into her – and the second time was for an interview about DNAmy. Out of her options, he was the only one who knew her well.
Aside from her twice calling him, he visited once a season. Their visits, outside from the two 'googles' as she called it, consisted of a sort of routine. They would drink tea, talk, maybe have something to eat…and then try out a few positions from the karma sutra book she had purchased from a store. He had rolled his eyes at the drawings, but seemed content with trying them out. Having also learned from their first time, Nadine had started to take birth control pills. After their night of fun, she would ask him to stay until she woke, to which he agreed to only because he didn't have a 'heist' planned for the morning.
Then she'd wake, he'd wake, and after another cup of tea, he'd leave.
Was it was a relationship?
They never spoke sentimental words. They never proclaimed any love they may or may not have felt to one another. They simply existed and enjoyed the present moment of each visit. There was no question or comment on titles other than their first names. Outside of the azaleas that Monkey Fist had given to her the year before her Master's program, there were no gifts or cards exchanged.
Instead, they exchanged ideas, theories, thoughts, and bodily fluids.
So no, Nadine wouldn't call it a relationship. After all, they could never be together. Not as a real couple, at least, given their goals in life. She simply assumed Monkey Fist was of similar mind frame as well.
The end of her third year and a Master's earned later, Nadine received word that she had been accepted to two PhD programs. She picked the one across the nation once more, for safety. She celebrated with her friends from school, with Jacob, with family, with Monkey Fist. All separate, naturally.
It would be an intense five years, her advisor warned her. Aside from courses, her dissertation would, as the advisor half-joked, suck away half her soul to use as the ink on the paper. It was thrilling and frightening. Nadine didn't falter though.
She entered her first year as a PhD student with determination and excitement.
By the middle of her second semester, she had gotten to know her classmates well. There were only seven doctoral students, including herself. All in all, they worked together and acted as encouragement for one another. It was a relief for Nadine, having heard rumors that some groups weren't as…friendly.
In fact, when it came to Thomas…she and he were a bit too friendly. Midway into the second semester, he had gathered up the nerve to finally ask her on a date. Nadine accepted. That weekend, she found herself at a nice restaurant – instantly joking that there was no way they could afford a place like this on their pay – with Thomas.
A few glasses of wine, some delicious food, and excellent music later, Nadine kissed Thomas when he dropped her off at her apartment. When he was gone, she twirled with a soft giggle and unlocked her door. Her heels were off as soon as the lights were turned on.
The sound of the ocean, the noise machine she had been using for years, was not on. Normally this would have caught her attention. At the moment, however, she was too preoccupied with reviewing her date. Yes, she smiled wide, a date! A real date! The first time in years!
Nadine started to undo her hairstyle when she heard a noise nearby. She spun, bobby pins flying off to the side. "Christ, Monty!" She snapped breathlessly. "We've talked about this several times before! Leave a light on when you're here so I don't have a heart attack."
Monkey Fist stood at the doorway between the living room and the entrance. His jaw was set and his lips thin. His eyes were disapproving. Before she could question him, he spoke through gritted teeth. "At least you would die happy from your date with Thomas."
A chill went through her. She wasn't quite sure why. She placed her purse on the kitchen counter though she did not lean against it. No, instead she remained tense and alert. Her gut protested, the faint phantom pain of her neck a reminder of his temper. "Spying on me, were you?" She asked coolly.
Would Monkey Fist react…violently now that they had come to a better understanding? Nadine nearly scoffed. To think he would keep his temper anymore just because they were sleeping together…that was almost as absurd as the idea of being in a relationship. Because of this, she felt the need to bear a weapon, protection.
"Care for some tea while you explain why you're upset with me?" She took a step backwards, hoping to locate a knife while pretending to make tea.
Monkey Fist stepped forward. "Why, I thought it should be obvious why I'm 'upset' with you. If it isn't now, however, it will soon be when Thomas goes missing."
Nadine could feel her face pale. "You will not touch him, Monty, or else I'll go to the police."
His eyes darkened at her threat and order. Then he smiled in an unnerving manner. It made her fingers twitch, longing for a weapon. "The police, dear girl?" He stepped forward. She stepped back. "You'll tell the police that your classmate is dead because of me? You may as well turn yourself in, as this is all your fault." He hissed, nearly spat the second to last word.
"M-my fault?" She tried to speak steadily. Her throat was suddenly dry, parched. Nadine stepped back once more as he moved forward. Her lower back hit the counter, a drawer under her fingertips. Perhaps that would have her knives – she couldn't recall what was where in this state.
Monkey Fist closed the small distance between them with a giant step. The palms of his hands slammed onto the counter on either side of her, pinning her there. He leaned over her, his hot breath hitting her cheek. "Are you going to tell the police that Thomas has been killed by your lover?"
Blackmail – the truth, even. Nadine could feel her heart pounding. So long as his hands remained on either side of her waist and his feet kept on the floor, she was safe. Or so she told herself, at least. Somehow she managed to find the nerve to speak. "Yes, my lover. Not my boyfriend, not my husband, not even my partner, but my lover." She was shaking like a leaf, her voice similar. Where did she manage to find that courage?
Monkey Fist's eyes flashed and he snarled suddenly. "You whore!" He raised his hand.
Nadine jumped and raised her arm, shouting as she closed her eyes, "I don't belong to you! I am no whore!" The strike never came. Nothing happened actually. After another moment, she slowly opened her eyes.
The man had lowered his hand and was staring at her. It wasn't with contempt, fury, or disappointment like before. No, it was…surprise? He stood tall, arms at his side. "I haven't dealt with anyone else." It was just a statement, matter of fact.
"I never asked you not to." She swallowed thickly, unsure if she was out of danger. "And you never asked me to be exclusive either." She let her arm fall to her side as well. The wine from earlier made her tongue loose. "Even if you did…Monty…I've told you before. We can never be together. We're on two different sides of the bars." Prison. Jail cell. She had told him this at Drakken's castle.
Either he had forgotten or he had willfully ignored it because his back straightened at this. His lips moved as if to speak, but closed. Monkey Fist turned away and walked to the door. Without looking back at her, he walked out and slammed the door.
The next day, Thomas wasn't in class. He wasn't in the class the next day either. By the third, it was revealed that he was in the hospital, stable but he wouldn't be able to complete the rest of the semester. He insisted that he had been beaten up by hairy ninjas.
