Options

Death, in Harry's book, apparently had more than one meaning, and the meaning that he had chosen was one I had never even considered. It was, however, a viable option.

It was, as Harry said, the only option; and it is the reason that I am still standing today. It is the reason that I am still able to recount my story; it is the reason that I can warn everyone else of the dangers of my life, and of my profession, and it is the single reason that I am alive and breathing.

The end came like a rush of blood to the head – utter confusion - and then I was floating, in a limbo between two lives. I didn't understand; couldn't understand; couldn't comprehend what it was that was happening to me. Because, I wasn't Nicola Alexander any more. I was someone else. And I didn't know how to deal with that.

*

"I don't understand." Leo stuttered. He, Harry, Nikki, Janet and Anne were all sitting around Harry's mother's kitchen table, and Harry was explaining his plan. His stupid, crazy, last-resort plan… the plan which Nikki had, eventually, reluctantly, agreed to.

"What don't you understand?" Harry demanded, "it's the only option we have left. Nikki has to die. It's her that they're after, and it's her that they were going to kill. So…"

"We kill me." Nikki answered. She was strangely calm, again; she was floating, between her two lives, and she was trying to explain her not-quite-suicide to her friends – the friends who were the only family she had. It was an odd feeling, but it was calming her. Once she'd allowed Harry to explain his plan, and once she had allowed herself to understand it, it had made as much sense in her own mind as it had in Harry's. He was right – it was the only option. They had to kill her, and they had to bury her, and they had to let the people behind all of this witness her funeral. It was all that they had left.

"And you don't mind, Nikki?" Janet asked, utterly perplexed. Nikki wasn't surprised by this fact, though; Janet had received a phone-call from her husband at nine o'clock at night explaining that Nikki had shot a man, and that the mafia were therefore after them, and that she had to pack a bag and get a taxi to a house as in the middle of no where as it's possible to be in Greater London, and that she couldn't return to her own life until it was all over.

"No." Nikki replied, honestly. "I don't mind."

"Why?" Janet was entering psychoanalyst mode now, Nikki could see. She swallowed, and decided to explain; everyone was probably wondering. Even Harry. If she was going to wipe herself off the face of the Earth, she supposed she owed them an explanation. They were right to require it, too, because, at first, she'd seen it as the worst possible thing, except the other kind of death. She'd changed her mind, now, though, because she knew what was at stake. It was death, or death. It all depended on which kind of death she chose – and she'd chosen Harry's kind. Of course.

She breathed in deeply, calming herself slightly, and, taking Harry's hand, she began:

"Nothing," she explained, "has ever gone right in my life, has it? My mother, my father, my childhood… until I started working for you, Leo, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I was twenty-nine, and I was utterly clueless. I was living a half-life. Until I met all of you, I never had a family. Until Harry and I finally got around to telling each other how we felt, I'd never had a boyfriend I could truly and honestly say that I loved and trusted. My life has, quite honestly, been one disaster after another, hasn't it?

So, I don't mind letting it go. I don't mind leaving it behind. So long as I have all of you, still, and so long as I can still call you my family, then that's all that matters to me. I never liked Nicola Alexander, anyway. Nicola Alexander wasn't me. 'Alexander' ties me to my real family, and I'm quite happy to sever those ties. I didn't really know it until now, but I really do want a fresh start."

*

Harry's mother's living room, the early hours of next morning: Harry and Nikki sat, curled up, on the sofa, holding each other's hands tightly and contemplating the effect of their decision. A fresh start, Nikki said; but she would have to bury her old self. She would have to drop everything that she had ever known, and that must have scared her. Even someone as strong and secure and wonderful as Nikki must be scared by something like that…

The thing that was upsetting her most, though, was that she would have to dye her hair; "I never liked it darker, really." She confessed, "I'm not really sure why I ever went that colour in the first place."

"I think it suited you." Harry said, playing with a loose strand of her white-blonde hair, as it curled down her shoulders, having escaped the ponytail that the rest was tied in.

"I don't." she sighed, sounding very downcast. Something about that made Harry laugh, and she glanced up at him, questioningly.

"If that's the bit you're most scared of, Nikki," he laughed, "I think we probably did choose the right plan."

"Mmmm."

"So." He said, trying to change the subject, "about this new name…"

"Mmmm?"

"I was thinking…"

"Oh, dear Lord, surely not!" she laughed, loosening up slightly; Harry smiled with relief. She was evidently coming round to the idea.

"I'm serious, Nikki…" he warned, unsure of whether his pride could take a knock, given what he was about to ask. She nodded, though, and squeezed his hand, smiling, and he continued. "So, I was wondering… you're going to have to change your name, anyway, and I was thinking… how about we go a step further with that? They…" he paused for a second, breathing deeply; "they won't be looking for a married woman, will they?"

"I'm keeping my new fake surname." Was all Nikki said. "I've chosen it already, and I like it. Besides which, one Doctor Cunningham is more than enough for this world…"

"You… you mean it?!" he asked, his eyes widening in shock at her reply, and its implications, and at her nonchalance.

"Yes."

Harry nodded, equally nonchalantly, pretending, like Nikki had, that this was perfectly normal, and not in any way life-changing.

"So, what was this new name you were thinking of, then?"

*

Death wasn't easy, like they always say; there was no white light to follow, no heavenly host beckoning me in.

Then again, my death wasn't exactly conventional. I am still alive.


A/N: If you didn't all work out what you've been missing all along in this chapter, I may be forced to actually kill Nikki.