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abby82
in the agony of parting
by abby82
category: AU--Canon Divergence for season 4's "No One Lives Forever"
rating: Explicit
word count: 11,520
disclaimer: they don’t belong to me, no money is being made. I’m only borrowing them.
author’s note: This is officially the longest story I've ever posted. It's just over 27,000 words. This is also the last of a series of LFN stories that I started writing back during the Fall of 2020. This has been such a satisfying project. I've really enjoyed writing in this fandom.
story began: October 2020
links: LJ | AO3 | Tumblr
summary: The Oversight pilot program is real. Nikita is free from Section One.
“You’ve been somewhere else today,” Grace pointed out to Nikita the following morning.
“Sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“Is everything okay? Mystery man giving you any trouble?”
Nikita smiled briefly at the nickname her coworkers had been tossing around the bookstore for months now.
“Michael…his name is Michael.”
“So, mystery man has a name,” Grace smiled wide and approvingly at the new nugget of information Nikita had provided.
There was no one she could talk to about Michael, not really, but Grace was a steady and mostly impartial observer. She was the first real female friend she’d had in a long time. She felt comfortable confiding in her, even if she stayed a little vague on the details.
“We knew each other a long time ago, but I had to go. He loved me enough to let me leave.”
“And now he wants you back.”
“And now…I don’t know. We’re kind of tiptoeing around each other. We had dinner last night.”
Grace raised an eyebrow asking a question she didn’t want to verbalize.
“It was only dinner,” she assured her.
“How was it? Seeing him again without ‘The Books’ to hide behind.”
Nikita thought back to the end of their evening. Michael had helped her with her coat. His fingers momentarily traced the hair that spilled over the collar. She managed to catch the reflective look in his eyes when he did so. His hand hovered indecisively in the air once she’d stepped away.
She reached out and affectionately squeezed his upper arm through the layers of wool in his clothing.
“Good night, Michael.”
“Good night, Nikita.”
She turned and began walking towards the parking lot and her vehicle. Why she turned she wasn’t entirely sure. They’d said their goodbyes but when she did turn, she knew she was lost.
He was ethereal in the pale light that emanated from the restaurant window. The light dusting of snow that fell illuminated him like some dark angel.
Michael looked at her like she was his whole reason for being. She remembered that look vividly. He might as well have been standing there naked. This entire evening had been about reacquainting themselves with the remnants of their former lives and reexamining them, discovering new facets.
Being with Michael was an exercise in restraint, to not let emotions get in the way of common sense. Nikita knew she hadn’t been entirely successful. That was exactly what she’d feared when she accepted his invitation. To allow Michael back into her orbit was dangerous. She had too much to lose now.
And yet, Nikita had always been one to throw caution to the wind. She walked back the few steps between them until she too fell within the dreamy glow of the window.
Upon reaching him, she grasped one of the still ungloved hands by his side, squeezed, and pressed a lingering kiss on Michael’s whiskered cheek. She felt his breath catch in the faintest of ways.
“Don’t be a stranger,” she whispered into his ear, before pulling back.
It was the first skin on skin contact she’d initiated. She felt bold and reckless in her desire. She’d think about her actions in the morning when the essence of Michael wasn’t clouding her judgment.
“It was nice to reconnect,” she told Grace, back in the present.
“Given how he pops in with no real schedule, my guess is that he doesn’t live in the area.”
“No, he doesn’t,” The reality of what Michael did with his life, of what he represented, was a splash of cold water on the curious tendrils of possibility. “Oh, Grace I’ve missed him.” Nikita was taken aback at the heartache she could hear in her voice. “But I never thought I’d see him again. There was a finality to the way we parted.”
“So is it a bit of nostalgia or is there something there…a second chance maybe?”
“I don’t know. For the last eight years I’ve been making decisions based on what’s good for me alone, not a relationship. I liked doing that. It was freeing.”
“Companionship is nice, though,” Grace offered kindly. “Someone to keep you warm at night.” Nikita’s lack of a love life had been a regular topic of conversation between the friends. Grace believed it was time for Nikita to start living again and to stop mourning the way she’d ended her relationship with Marc in New York.
“Yeah,” she replied wistfully. Nikita looked out onto the street where she first saw Michael again. She remembered the heady combination of fear, excitement, and desire that swirled within her then. “I liked being with Michael,” she asserted confidently. “It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but it felt so right being with him. It wasn’t without its complications, though.”
Nikita looked at Grace and wondered how much she could reveal. “Michael has a shadow that follows him around—loss. He’s been through a lot and lost a lot of people extremely close to him. He’s never let it define him, but it cuts deep. It’s influenced how he connects with others…or doesn’t connect. It could be feast or famine with him sometimes.”
“Were you happy together?”
Nikita smiled at the memory of the short time she and Michael were truly together. It was both passionate and tender. It was comfortable and volatile. Either one of them could have died at any moment but seeing him, even from a distance always gave her a sense of peace. They’d survived another day.
“We were as happy as we could be.”
That was the truth. Section One was the reason they met. It always seeped into their relationship even before it became romantic. The manipulation didn’t go away simply because there was growing tenderness between them. Nikita had to come to terms with whether being with Michael was worth it despite their tenuous beginning. The possibility of betrayal was always there as long as Section was in the picture.
“That’s not the most promising of answers, Nik.”
Nikita smiled at the skeptical outside perspective of her and Michael’s relationship.
Two weeks later Michael was once again seated at the armchair next to the poetry section he favored.
Nikita smiled at him when he walked in and Michael nodded in return. She didn’t seek him out, but she was a little less guarded in her interactions with him. She let herself indulge in his presence.
It was comforting to know that she could look over to the corner armchair and see him there. As if sensing her observation, Michael would look up from his book and catch her gaze. The heat she saw in his eyes made her heart beat faster. She’d grow flustered with the innocent attention and struggled to hide her reaction.
Michael, of course, felt no embarrassment and further encouraged the flirtation. Eventually, Nikita gained her footing. After all, she was never a lightweight in the flirtation game. Nikita was just not keen on them displaying themselves in front of an audience.
“Nikita’s admirer,” her coworkers already teased.
“Your hair is longer again,” Michael reached out and lightly touched the ends of her hair that she now wore just past her collarbone.
Nikita had wandered over and impulsively sat on the arm of his chair. Their knees bumped up against each other and she draped her arm along the back. If she allowed herself to slip further down she’d find herself perched on his lap.
“Just a little.” She eyed his hair and lightly grazed the curling ends of his. “Yours is shorter.” She eyed the slight gradient like graying at his temples.
Michael soon started making more frequent visits. She flirted and he touched her with appreciation. It was fun. When they were alone he was generous with his affection. He was mostly stoic in public but indulgent with his touch in private, as if trying to make up for lost time.
Thérèse teased that the heated looks between her and Michael were making everyone feel depressed about the state of their own love lives.
During Michael’s next visit, Nikita gathered her coat and met him just beyond the front door.
“It’s such a pretty day. I thought I’d play hooky,” Michael held his arm out slightly in invitation and she comfortably curled her hand within.
Spring was around the corner, but it was still cool out. Nevertheless, the bright sunshine warmed them up. That and the warmth of Michael’s body was all Nikita needed. They walked and talked about inconsequential things, merely using the time to enjoy the fresh air.
They walked along the trails of Mount Royal soaking in the sunshine and each other’s company.
Soon enough the conversation naturally shifted to more introspective topics.
“Why did you pull away from me?” Michael quietly asked her. “In the months before you left.”
Nikita knew this question was coming. It was one of the things she regretted leaving unresolved between them.
“It was all too much,” Nikita pulled her hand away from Michael’s arm. She stopped walking and turned to face the city view before her. Her hand gripped the railing in front of her tightly. “I was having trouble sorting out my head. All that time that I was under the influence of the Gelman Process, I did things…things I had to come to terms with. By Section standards, they were acceptable, but not by my own.”
“And you couldn’t tell me?”
Michael leaned his back against the railing and reached out to tuck a strand hair behind her ear. His touch was feather soft and drew her gaze back towards him.
“I wanted to, but I wasn’t sure how to bring it up. I didn’t want to disappoint you. You moved heaven and earth for me, Michael, and I hated the idea of coming to you broken. I just couldn’t bare the prospect of telling you that it might have been for nothing. I thought…I hoped that all I needed was time. Time to put myself back together.”
Michael looked at her with aching tenderness. His eyes showed understanding and remorse.
“Do you know what I did?”
She’d often wondered if Michael was privy to her missions. As Level 5 he wouldn’t be denied access, but as his allegiance to Section was questioned, as he began to publicly shed the bonds that shackled him to it, Operations and Madeline often kept information away from him. Knowledge is power and they wanted to keep as much of it from Section’s most accomplished operative.
“Not at the time, no. Your activities were kept classified. Eventually I did learn about your actions during that period.”
“I felt dirty…tainted…and there you were being so attentive and wonderful. When I was with you I could pretend that everything was okay, but eventually everything would come back. When it did, I always felt worse.”
Nikita remembered the restless nights alone. Michael and she had resumed their relationship, but it only offered momentary relief. She still felt robotic and distant while Michael was awash with desperate passion. He felt no need to settle into complacency. He grabbed onto her with both hands. Nikita was nearly almost always overwhelmed by his need for her during those months. She tried to match his ardor. She wanted to lose herself in his love. If she’d ever doubted his feelings for her, she certainly didn’t by that point. She tried to anchor herself using Michael’s love, but it disturbed her that she couldn’t quite capture the same emotional state she’d had prior to her modification. She often wondered if she was convincing. Then that thought caused her grief because she didn’t want to be convincing, like a Valentine would be convincing. She just wanted to be.
