A/N: Hooray! Finally! Thank you for your patience, and please let me know what you think! :) More is coming, just as fast as my brain will allow.
Chapter Nine
The car slid into the slush-filled, muddy driveway and Nicky threw it into park, jumping out without bothering to turn it off or even close the door. She could hear a dog barking, but all else seemed still. There was smoke rising faintly from the remains of a propane tank. She took a shaky breath and tried to calm her heart rate, to think logically, but all she could hear was Bourne saying, "The man you sent is dead."
The dog kept barking, reaching a higher pitch as she walked closer to the shed. She threw open the door, both fearing and hoping that he was inside. A streak of fur dashed past her, racing toward the field. Proud that she had kept from screaming aloud, it took Nicky a moment to think. When she realized that the dog would be her best bet to find him, she turned and ran toward the sound of frantic barking once more.
The dog was already on his way back to her, his yelps reaching new levels of urgency. When he saw that she was following, he bounded back to the center of the weed-infested field, where she saw—
Her heart stopped, and time stretched to the breaking point. The sound of the dog's barking faded away; all she could do was stare at the crumpled, bloody body lying in the center of the field.
She blinked, and everything snapped back into focus. She realized that she was kneeling beside him, one hand at his neck, checking for a pulse. One agonizing moment later, she gave a shuddering sigh as she felt a weak sign of life. She felt like hitting him for scaring her so deeply, but she settled for muttering epithets and trying to wake him up.
-+-
Nicky paced the small hall impatiently as she snapped out orders to the French contact who was organizing the trap for Bourne. He didn't seem to comprehend that they were on a tight schedule and kept demanding to talk to her boss. She finally growled out the phone number and pressed the end button, wishing that she'd been on a regular telephone that she could slam down angrily.
A door upstairs opened suddenly, making her jump. She hurried over to the stairwell and watched the docter descend anxiously.
The physician laughed when he saw her face. "Breathe, cherie, your young man is fine. He will be in pain for a few days, so I have left some medication for you. He has a strong will, that one."
Nicky nodded and bent her head, surprised to find that she felt like crying again. She was becoming quite the emotional wreck, thanks to his presence in her life. "Thank you, my friend," she finally said, clearing her throat again. "I have other duties to attend to, so would you mind checking on him throughout the rest of the day? I'll be back sometime tonight."
The graying man beamed at her. "But of course, my dear. You know you don't need to ask me."
She smiled and squeezed his hand. "And the money is already in your account." He began protesting, but she waved him off. "You have done so much over the years, it is only a small part of what I owe you. Please, take it."
He sighed, but nodded. "Very well. Now go see him, he should be awake soon."
-+-
Nicky strode into the room, relieved when she saw him watching her quietly. Wordlessly handing him the first of many painkillers, she simply watched him, unwilling to be the first to break the fragile silence. Although she'd come to terms with the fact that she loved him, she was still well aware that he was a relentless bastard, and knew that a "thank you" from him would be about as likely as snow in July. Sure enough, he growled at her as he took the pills.
Shrugging, trying not to betray the emotional ordeal she'd been through, she lied through her teeth about being in the area. He'd never believe her, but she doubted he actually wanted a straight answer from her; he just wanted to be cranky.
He surprised her next by asking about the blood on her clothes. She didn't realize she'd gotten so covered in blood...his blood. Fighting back sudden tears at realizing how close she'd come to losing him, she stammered, "Oh. Um, I guess. You, uh… well, there was blood everywhere."
He had the nerve to joke about the damage a shotgun could do, and there went her restraint. With tears threatening to fall, she decided to leave before she told him how scared she'd been and how much she loved him and made a complete idiot out of herself.
But then, he asked her to come to him. With a "please," no less. Turning, allowing him to see her surprise, she obeyed. When he urged her closer, she let her face betray some of what she was feeling. How he'd scared her, how much she cared... To her surprise, he seemed to reciprocate, staring into her eyes for a few moments before hooking a hand at the base of her neck.
He pulled her to him, mouth to mouth, kissing her like she'd saved his life. She trembled at the force of her desire, realizing several minutes (hours?) later that she had just about crawled into bed with him. He finally eased back, but couldn't seem to stop himself from kissing her once more.
To her shock, he murmured, "Thank you, Nicky."
She blinked, but managed to grin. "You should thank the dog. I couldn't find you at first, but he wouldn't stop barking." It occurred to her that it was quite possibly the first thing she'd noticed him do that showed that he had a heart. Why hadn't he just killed the dog?
When she asked him, he muttered something about having a dog like that when he was a boy, and she noticed with delight that he was actually blushing.
Her first impulse was to tease him about it, but decided to show him that he could trust her. She lifted a hand to touch him, unable to keep away, and he kissed her palm. Her heart leaping, she tried to hold back the rush of joy that his impulsive action produced.
Her face must have betrayed some of what she was feeling, because he began to say something, but stopped. She knew that they'd need to talk, but they didn't have time; she was already running late.
"I really do need to go," she finally said. He couldn't let her leave without another kiss, but she wasn't complaining. She made sure he knew where the food was, and told him the doctor would be checking in periodically.
He wouldn't relinquish his grasp of her hand just yet, and even asked if she would be returning. She simply smiled and squeezed his hand, unable to trust her voice. How could she stay away?
...
A/N: I just wanted to write it from her POV as well… my brain is currently in bourne-mode, so once I finish watching all three again and have a better plan, there will be more coming.