Don't own – don't sue
It had been a week since the showdown in New York. Bourne had patched himself up quickly and set about tracking down Nicky Parsons, a task now reaching its culmination as he sat watching her across the lively café. When they had departed she had told him that she would remain in Europe so that if ever he needed to contact her he had a rough idea of the general area she would be. It had been harder than he thought – he was impressed that she had managed to disappear so effectively; but he had been successful, as he always was, and now sat watching her from across a crowded room.
Jason wondered, as he examined her, why he was convinced she held the answers he was looking for. Nicky Parsons confused him – she had ever since he first laid eyes on her in Paris; when she looked at him it was never just fear in her eyes, but often recognition, anger and something else…maybe even disappointment? He had known her before his training, by now he was certain of it – she was the key to understanding why he had enrolled, had volunteered to become the CIA's illegal arm of the law.
He thought of Berlin, when he had held a gun to her head and she'd whimpered in terror. He was furious at her, convinced that she was not cooperating, and yet he couldn't bring himself to shooting; merely leaving her on the floor crying out for him. Despite his treatment of her in Berlin, when she'd walked in on him in Madrid she had offered her help? Defied the very organization she had invested her faith in? Answered most of his questions, treated him with compassion. And then there was that moment in the service station, when she very nearly let something slip. She had searched his face for something, anything and he'd watched her response when she couldn't find it – it had seemed as though he had punched her and the brief gleam of hope and faith that had shone in her eyes had been extinguished. Yes, Nicky Parsons definitely had much explaining to do.
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Nicky idly turned the page of her newspaper, not really even seeing it. She could feel his eyes on her, had known he was there for a while; the prickling feeling on the back of her neck that had told her someone was watching her – and you didn't need to be genius to figure out who. She was surprised it had taken him so long though - maybe he had been injured worse than she thought. Nicky had to stop herself from glancing over to his table and reassuring herself that he was still there.
Sitting there waiting for him to make the first move, Nicky suddenly became indignant; why was she always allowing him to dictate the terms? He had plenty of moments in the last few years that he could have killed her, and she highly doubted that he provided a danger to her now. Becoming increasingly emboldened, Nicky folded up her paper and stood up; nearing Bourne's table she pulled her keys out her pocket and threw them onto his table. Looking him in the eye, proud of his slightly bemused expression, she said
'Let yourself in - I'm sure you know where it is. I finish work in a few hours and then I'll be back.'
Without waiting for any sign from him, she turned on her heel and walked out of the café.
Bourne watched her leave with confusion; this Nicky Parsons was unlike the one he had previous dealings with, even before Marseilles – this Nicky was holding all the cards, something Bourne was never comfortable with. What was definitely clear now though, was what he could never work out before – Nicky Parsons was pissed at him and she had been the entire time he had known her; what was even more galling was that Bourne had no godly clue why.
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Thank you so much for the reviews!! You guys are so cool! Hope you like this new instalment, please R&R.