Author's note: It's been a while. Good to see there's still some activity here.
When I last posted I'd been planning and had started writing a sequel to Unfinished Affairs, but life happened and caused writing to be pretty much the last thing on my mind for a long, long time. Then Covid came along and with it a change in pace and wanting to write something again. I just needed inspiration to strike me ;).
A thorough search through my files came up empty. Somewhere along the line I lost all my story files :(. I remember I had started on an idea for an AU and was toying around with some other ideas based on stuff the show had only minimally addressed. But for the life of me, I don't know where they've disappeared to. I haven't felt like writing these ideas into stories anew as of yet. I can't promise I will at one point either. So if there's anyone reading this who had hoped to find a continuation of / a sequel to my last story, my apologies but that's not in the cards right now.
Instead I've been trying to stretch my writing muscles again by addressing a new idea that popped up while I rewatched Glass Houses from season one. To refresh your memory: early on in the ep Michael's at Nikita's loft and they're talking about her getting the black box from the female guardian in Plainview before Michael arrives to check on it per Percy's orders. Nikita says something about being all excited because they could be halfway there and she's all 'dreaming about the future' while Michael holds her in his arms and bursts the bubble by replying "And then what? Live happily ever after? Domestic Bliss?" (Love that scene!) And it got me to thinking; what would that look like for them even before their mission ended? And bonus: it got me a title too ;).
So without further ado, here's the first snippet - of hopefully many more - I wrote with Michael and Nikita and their version of domestic bliss in mind. For this first one I'm jumping forward quite a bit to somewhere between ep 2.19 and 2.20. Hope you enjoy. Feedback or just a line saying 'hi, I'm reading', is most appreciated.
Disclaimer: Nikita is not mine, any mistakes you will encounter are.
Title Track
For some reason the scene he walks into when he returns home from an errand run, pulls at all his heartstrings at once. It stops him in his tracks and plainly reveals how empty his life has been without her these last few months. How empty even when they were back together again, but not back on track.
She's in the kitchen. Cutting up a variety of green vegetables. No doubt to mix into one of her infamous veggie-shakes. The ones he kind-heartedly drinks when she offers him one, but has never really developed a taste for.
She's surrounded by music. It's not overly loud, but it's not just background sound either. She's listening, enjoying, losing herself in it while she works on her latest concoction. He can't recall when the last time was he caught her listening to music like this. He can't really remember when he himself has last done so either, for that matter. They used to play music regularly. They'd listen, enjoy, discuss and discover. Together. Something beautiful or uplifting in their otherwise bleak existence.
The sounds of an eighties love song had caught his ears as soon as he'd entered the beach house. Now that he's closer to the source, he can identify it. It's a rock ballad. Sweet but not overly so. It speaks of longing and want and a love that's just out of reach. And even though the lyrics aren't applicable to them - at least not since they finally managed to clear the air between them - they hit their mark anyway.
He told her he was willing to teach her to love herself. The presence of music and the singer's words remind him of how he hadn't exactly been available to her in the months preceding that particular conversation. Not to teach, not to support or comfort and not to love. They remind him of how she must have felt. Unwillingly alone. Left behind. Longing for something that wasn't there anymore.
But that's the past now. Even if just the recent past. They've reconnected and have been doing well since then and so he swallows down the lump in his throat. Neither one of them has to miss the other for anything right now and if he has something to say about it, that is exactly how it's going to stay for the rest of their lives.
Her hips sway slightly to and fro in time with the music. He can't hear over the crooning of the singer, but he imagines she's humming softly along with him. She moves with the music as she reaches for another vegetable from the bowl to her left, wiping her hands on a dish towel in the same smooth motion and then she's swaying again as she puts her knife to use once more, her head tilted adorably to one side.
Her damp hair is a shiny sheet along her back. She must have taken a shower too while he was out. When he left her she was in her yoga clothes. Ready for a work-out. Now she's still barefooted and wearing leggings. But instead of a sports bra, she has on a tee that's way to big for her. One of his, he notices on second glance and his heart just about bursts at the sight of her in his clothes again. That seems like it's been forever too.
The guitar solo starts and he just can't keep standing there watching her any longer. He needs to touch her. He finds himself needing to touch her a lot these days. From the moment he wakes until they retire at night and after that too, if he's being honest. Trying to make up for time that was lost, he thinks. And maybe trying to tell her how much he loves her without words too. Because he could never be able to put every wonderful thing he feels for her into something as mundane as words anyway.
And so he takes the few steps needed to reach her, the errand he picked up forgotten along the way. Careful not to spook her, he gently lines up his front to her back. He catches a whiff of her shampoo and savours the darkly sweet smell of vanilla and something that is just Nikita. At the same time one of his hands comes to rest on her side while the other folds over her busy one, restraining it a little - she is wielding a knife after all and he isn't keen on an accidental blood bath.
No, what he wants is what he gets. She seems to have figured out it's him without seeing or hearing and she leans into him instantly. Thus presenting him with the perfect opportunity to wrap his arm further around her waist and pull her back against him as he closes his eyes and just breathes her in. She lets go of the knife to turn her hand underneath his and intertwines their fingers. And then they're swaying together. Slow-dancing their own little duet as his heart swells in time with the music. She curls her body further into his while the vocalist goes into falsetto and he smiles as he spies goosebumps raising on her flesh.
Her free hand covers his on her stomach and she turns her face a little to catch his lips with hers. "Hi", she whispers and they share a breath before he returns her greeting with another kiss. The brush of his mouth is soft against hers and still they sway. Their gazes locked on the other, they let themselves be swept away in the crescendo of the song. A flood of warm thoughts glitter in her eyes, the answer to them shine in his, but not a word is spoken. There's no need. In this moment all is right in the world.
The ballad begins to wind down to its final notes, signalling their moment of bliss is coming to a close as well. Michael's not quite ready for it to end though.
From the corner of his eye he spies the remote lying on the countertop. He tightens his fingers around hers for a second before raising both their hands above their heads and then releases her from his embrace to grasp the remote in his free hand. As he slowly spins her around underneath their joined hands he presses the button that starts the song anew.
"May I have this dance?", he asks in that smokey voice of his.
"Always", she replies, her brilliant smile distracting him from the bruises still visible on her neck.
He pulls her towards him again and she wraps her arms around him, their bodies fitting against each other unerringly. As they fall into step again and their lips meet for a third time, he presses the repeat button on the remote.
The few minutes this song lasts won't be enough time to satisfy his need to quietly be together like this. Judging from the look in her eyes, he's sure she won't object at all and he counts himself the happiest man alive.