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FIC: the heart repairs itself [la femme nikita]
this heart repairs itself
by abby82
category: missing scene
rating: Teen
word count: 6,330
disclaimer: they don’t belong to me, no money is being made. I’m only borrowing them.
story finished: September 2022
links: LJ | AO3 | Tumblr
summary: Secluded hallways are the best for making out.
Their temporary Section housing is cramped. The air—musty from disuse. Operatives shuffle past each other down the long and low ceilinged corridors on both important but tedious tasks.
Section One is still operational, but limited resources agitates even the coolest of heads.
Michael had commandeered Nikita’s assistance on his own important but tedious task. The satellite imagery they’re reviewing fills the two monitors before them. It’s dull and painstaking work that they’ve been at for over two hours.
Michael looks over and he sees Nikita massaging her temple. She’s stressed and quickly losing concentration. Tired eyes try to keep up with the data before her.
“Can I talk to you?” His voice is pitched lower than usual.
“Sure,” she answers half distracted. Her brow furrows slightly. She’s reluctant to look up too long from the monitors and miss something. “What’s up?”
“Not here.” He glances around at the others within earshot. “Come with me,” Michael tells her softly and together they rise.
There are cameras in this temporary location but not nearly as many as in Section One. There are blindspots and Michael methodically leads them to one not far from the location designated as ordinance.
Nikita’s eyes take in their surroundings, clearly intrigued by his decision to take them somewhere truly secluded and away from the cramped main staging area where they’d settled.
Once at his destination, Michael subtly positions Nikita against the wall.
He can’t help but take in the beauty of her face. She’s tucked the shorter blonde strands that frame her face behind her ears, giving him a full view of her luminous eyes and high cheekbones. Her lips are a rosy pink and Michael struggles to not stare at them too long.
“How are you?” He asks her simply.
Nikita takes a deep breath and her shoulders shift slightly. Her eyes dart from a distant corner of the hallway back to him in brief contemplation.
“Alright. All things considered.”
Michael steps closer. The edge of her leather coat grazes against his jacket. The lingering spiciness of her vanilla and coffee perfume had been teasing his nostrils while they sat together. Now, with their bodies near, he wants to close the distance and surround himself with her scent.
“What’s this about?” Her husky voice is quiet and curious. There’s no need for hushed tones but Nikita instinctively seems to know that this moment is intended to be private.
“You looked like you needed a break.”
Nikita tilts her head in surprise and smiles. A welcoming warmth settles in her bright blue eyes. “Thanks.”
“How are you doing?” She asks in return, lightly touching his elbow.
“Alright,” he answers her before placing his hand against the softness of her face. It was the same spot he’d tenderly kissed months ago when he thought her fate sealed when she’d openly questioned Operations in front of Adrian. He lets his thumb slowly caress her cheekbone. He’s allowing himself this. The gesture is as much for him as it is for her.
Her eyes widen ever so slightly before she allows herself to submit to his touch. Her own hand comes up and holds him to her. He is encased in the twin warmth of her cheek and the palm of her hand.
“Michael,” concern colors her eyes. “About Glass Curtain…”
He knows instantly what topic she wants to broach. He could read the unspoken question in her eyes ever since the discovery of their involvement.
“Later,” he whispers and Michael closes the distance between them. He kisses her before he can convince himself not to.
Despite their proximity, Michael knows he takes her by surprise. He feels her breath catch and her lips are momentarily still before she kisses him back. His tongue teases at the seam of her lips and she slowly parts them to allow him entrance.
The sweetness of her mouth is his, with every sweep of his tongue, with every time her own curls along with his. Michael presses his body flush with hers and her back is held up by the wall.
Even through layers of clothing, he can feel the lusciousness of her body against his. Her curves naturally mold to his hard lines. He lets himself drown in the essence of Nikita.
Michael kisses Nikita with a certainty he hasn’t felt in a long time.
He remembers the invitation to spend the day together that she’d turned down; he remembers his own reluctance to offer her much other than the tiniest of glimpses of himself during their stolen moments at the cabin; Michael remembers Nikita announcing that the possibility of casual between them could not happen.
Michael knows now that he doesn’t want casual either. He wants to share himself with her. He wants to spend more than just the day with her. He wants them to have the night and then the morning.
He’s wanted those things for a long time, but his renewed focus comes from verbalizing for the first time what Nikita means to him to Sarah Gerard.
He can no longer rely on half measures that preserve as much of the status quo within Section as possible. What was he waiting for? The time for healing has passed.
The last few months have been a crash course in discovering what his new normal would look like. His routine of the last five years was no longer necessary.
Michael was no longer accountable to a cherished but fabricated family.
He no longer had to offer apologies to Elena for being delayed because a flash mission required his attention. He no longer needed to trade his wardrobe of polished black for business grays at the end of his evenings. His briefcase of dummy business documents sat abandoned inside the closet of his Section quarters. His day no longer ended with an hour long drive on the autoroute to Beauvais.
Those were routines Michael had occasionally taken comfort in, even if the balancing act between his blood cover and his responsibilities at Section could be challenging.
The tiny pleasures from his blood cover were also no longer there for him. His role as father was the most difficult to put aside. The rare weekends attending to a short list of household tasks like household chores, tricycle repair or treehouse projects were gone as well.
These were all activities that had been effectively removed from his life with one well placed bullet. His blood cover was over. There were adjustments Michael needed to make on his own. He’d known objectively that they were coming, but the reality proved to be far more crippling than he could have ever anticipated. He hadn’t realized how much Adam and Elena had penetrated his heart. The extent of his vulnerability was startling.
Nikita’s supportive presence both helped and hobbled him. She looked at him with such concern that it almost bordered on pity. He had wrapped himself in so much grief and his depressive state was so profound that even the threat of cancellation did little to encourage his recovery. Predictably, it was Nikita’s safety that managed to shock his system back into place, and he slowly began to accept his new reality.
That new reality, however, still did not involve Nikita. He missed her, but she had been a temptation that he wasn’t ready to pursue just yet. So he politely kept her at arm’s length. His broken heart yearned for her, for her warmth and her company, but he needed to rebuild the fortifications around his heart at his own pace. Michael needed to recompose himself after his bout with self-destructiveness.
Section didn’t make it easy during that time. The missions were trying and they put him at odds with Nikita. They drifted further apart rather than closer.
They fell into old patterns. She asked questions. Questions that he couldn’t answer. Those that he did, were met with skepticism. He watched as she tried to balance the demands of Section with those of her moral compass. She turned to him for reassurance and he was unable to give it to her satisfaction. In her own words, she was a “veteran” and Section expects more from its veterans. No scenario was too depraved if it resulted in mission closure.
All this was more than true for him. He’d achieved closure on a seemingly impossible task, but he’d also shown them his weakness. Section was unforgiving when it came to them. It exploited them without impunity.
The more he opened himself emotionally, the more they had on him to manipulate, to hurt those he held dear. Nikita was a known weakness. Now Adam was too. He hadn’t disengaged the way they expected him to. The scrutiny was substantial. Madeline especially took great care in watching him.
Nothing but exemplary work would help ease their doubts. They wanted their good soldier back. In some ways they got him.
His need to reestablish his equilibrium made it possible to act when Section was compromised by Red Cell. The distance between Nikita and himself, while painful, proved useful.
He’d told Nikita that her imposter had been convincing, but only on the surface. There had been something off about her. Of that he’d been certain since the ride back to Section. He knows Nikita. Even when she’s having an off day or hiding something, she is recognizably Nikita. He’d briefly wondered if she’d been exposed to some behavioral altering agent, but he’d dismissed it after a few interactions.
He saw calculation in her eyes. She was almost haughty.
He bedded the imposter to buy them the necessary time to locate Nikita. This creation who wore Nikita’s face could never replicate the essence of the real Nikita—the scent of her skin, the sense of abandon that entered her eyes when they joined their bodies, or her noble heart.
The work they had done on her was impressive, but it was also outdated.
Michael had had the real Nikita in his arms for two unforgettable nights. He knew the tiny scars that were sprinkled across her body. Perfect imperfections that weren’t in the file that had been stolen two years ago.
He knew how Nikita responded to his touch, both ardent and uncontrollable and tender and loving.
None of those intimate and precious details were in the stolen file.
An aroused Nikita was a vision to behold. She’s impulsive and sensual. Her zest for life translates beautifully into the way she makes love. That woman couldn’t have been further from the truth.
Michael didn’t dwell on having slept with Nikita’s physical double. It was another job, but the imposter did leave him with something to think about.
He missed Nikita. It might still be too soon for them, but Michael no longer wanted to deprive himself of her any longer. The question was, how could they realistically be together?
His potential answer came from the most unlikely of places…Nikita herself.
Nikita, through her double, had presented the idea of them being casually involved. It was a clever and subtle message from her to further alert him that all was not well. The casualness of passing sexual relationships was a common occurrence within Section.
Michael briefly wondered what it would be like. They could have each other, find comfort and release with each other and avoid the scrutiny of Section. Just as long as emotions didn’t get too involved.
Right there lied the crux of the issue—emotions. Nikita was nothing but emotion and she pushed him constantly to allow his emotions an outlet. Not so subtle references had been made in the past by both Operations and Madeline about his frowned upon “attachment” to colleagues. His love for Simone had been used as a cautionary tale when they detected his feelings for Nikita ran deeper than they should.
It was unfair to compare both women. Each one of them special and fiercely independent in their own right. The circumstances were also entirely different. He and Simone had never intended to fall in love.
They enjoyed each other’s company and worked efficiently together. She wasn’t intimidated by his stoic exterior. She told he was much too young to be so severe. They all had a past, she said. They all had things they regretted and haunted them. Section was brutal and surviving it was no guarantee, but it also gave them the opportunity of a second chance. The perspective was not what Michael had expected and it endeared Simone further to him. She was not only an excellent operative but a welcomed respite within Section. He’d been so focused on surpassing not only Section’s expectations but his own that he’d closed himself off emotionally to achieve those goals. She showed him how to take pleasure in the little things. Pleasure he had felt he was unworthy of. But Simone also understood the reality of Section. They were operatives first and everything else second. Ironically, it would be Michael who would challenge that perspective.
Michael knew he was lying to himself if he insisted intense feeling weren’t involved when he thought of Nikita. It didn’t take him long to reach that conclusion.
Damning Nikita to the same scrutiny that befell him and Simone was dangerous. Convincing Section that their interest in each other was purely physical had some merit as an option.
Could it be casual between them?
Michael knows the answer now. Nikita had expressed her opinion that no, they couldn’t. She couldn’t do that. She wanted him. All of him. Not just his body.
Michael was elated and frightened at the prospect. He already knew that he’d do anything for Nikita. How much further would he go if they committed themselves to a romantic relationship? Michael knows with great certainty that he would move heaven and earth for Nikita if he had to.
Convincing Nikita of his commitment would be difficult enough given their tempestuous history. Adding Section into the mix proved to make things even more complicated.
It was the sting of her hand across his face that reminded him that he very likely didn’t deserve the privilege of a relationship with Nikita. It hurt far more than the punches Michael let Operations deliver not long before.
Nikita’s valentine mission was wreaking havoc with her sanity. She was confused, volatile and infatuated with a sadistic man.
While engaged in mission support, Michael had listened in on Nikita’s frenzied coupling with her target, a sadistic and misogynistic terrorist named Karl Peruze. He hadn’t been prepared for it. Her moans of pleasure rang in his ear.
“Your cunt is so tight, baby…That’s right…take it…take my cock.”
Hearing Peruze talk about her body in such vulgar terms caused his blood to boil. Loving Nikita had aways been a euphoric experience. Every inch of her body was a treasure waiting to be discovered. He always endeavored to find a way to give her as much pleasure as he was capable of. The connection they’d established stayed with him long after the evidence of his latest betrayals reflected back at him in Nikita’s stricken eyes.
“Karl."
Her breathy moans of another man’s name made him sick. He’d helped put her there. He’d never been so disgusted with himself than he was during that mission.
For weeks afterwards, Nikita steered clear of him. Saying very little and only when necessary. Michael watched her from afar, knowing full well that he deserved every ounce of her anger. Despite that, he desperately wanted to bridge the gap. He’d rather have her angry but talking to him rather than polite and distant. He needed to do something bold. He needed Nikita to know that he valued her company.
He discretely managed to get them corresponding downtime and he extended an invitation to spend the day together. It was intended as an olive branch, not necessarily a romantic overture. It was also substantially more than a cup of coffee together. A day together could be much more spontaneous and wouldn’t carry with it the premeditation that an evening out might.
He was prepared to be refused. It was difficult for him to forget the betrayal of Nikita to Peruze and that he was privy to the abuse that Section would inflict on her mind and body. It would be more so for Nikita. Still, he mourned the missed opportunity even if he later discovered that her reasons were sound.
“It’s the kindest thing you’ve ever done for me.”
He had done much over the years to protect Nikita, but what she valued was his assistance in protecting the woman who gave birth to her. Nikita’s mother had been a specter since they first met in the white room. Her disinterest in her daughter’s wellbeing had often been invoked. Nikita had the compassion to forgive the woman who had done her so many wrongs. He was humbled to be in her presence. Nikita was far from perfect, but her ability to show compassion was one of her strongest and most admirable attributes.
The featherlight grace of her lips on his surprised him. Again, Nikita’s compassion was on full display, this time with him. After weeks of deserved distance, Nikita looked upon him with grateful eyes.
After Nikita was long gone and Michael was back at work an even greater certainty settled in his chest—he would do anything for her. He might not be able to spare Nikita all the ugliness of Section but he would lie for her, he’d deceive for her, and he would kill for her.
When Operations informed him of a suspected Red Cell informant within Section, he constructed a profile immediately.
Involving Nikita not only fit his profile but his psychological evaluation as well. If Michael were to do the impossible, run and escape Section One, there would be no doubt in anyone’s mind that he would take Nikita with him.
He didn’t allow himself physical intimacy. As tempting as it had been, It would have been too confusing. However, the time together away from Section’s oppressive scrutiny was important.
He needed her. He couldn’t hide anymore. It wasn’t fair to Nikita.
He either needed to admit his feelings or step aside and let her find companionship with someone else.
Allowing another man near Nikita was not an option. His sanity wouldn’t handle it.
His silence was detrimental. He need to take steps to remedy it.
Nikita’s fingers curl against his lapels while they kissed. He coaxes a soft moan out of her and with that Michael tightens the hold he has on the nape of her neck.
When their lips part Michael immediately seeks her out again, but the hands that had gripped him close now push back slightly.
“Why?” She asks him, out of breath from his kiss. A surge of pride ripples through him, at knowing that he’s kissed Nikita so thoroughly.
Hers is a two part question. Why is he ignoring her question about Glass Curtain? Why did he kiss her?
“I just wanted some time alone with you,” he tells her honestly.
Skepticism ripples across her beautiful face. Her eyes search his own for something more
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re not normally this demonstrative and when you are, you usually have an ulterior motive.”
So many lies and so many betrayals have schooled Nikita to always look beneath his words for falseness.
“Not this time. This time, I’m being entirely selfish.”
He sees her mull his words over before she allows a tiny amount of gallows humor to seep through.
“We’re not dying are we?”
Michael allows himself a small smile. “No, we’ll get through this, and Section will relocate elsewhere.”
“You’re so optimistic.”
“I have to be.”
“Why?”
“Because after this is over, I’d like to cook you dinner.”
Nikita studies him. Curiosity fills the space between them until she chuckles softly.
“Well, your last outing was pretty good.”
“I can do better,” Michael takes a chance and presses his body up against her, crowding her against the wall. He looks at her with what he’s sure is poorly veiled desire. “I promise you.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” she murmurs, before she draws him to her and initiates their kiss this time.
Nikita is the aggressor this time. She drags him against her; long fingers bury themselves in his hair and her mouth opens to him in welcome.
Michael slips his arms around her waist and underneath her coat, feeling the warmth of her body through her thick sweater.
Time stands still. The softness of Nikita’s lips spurs Michael on. He wants more of this.
“Michael?” Birkoff’s unsure voice cuts through the Nikita induced haze and they reluctantly part.
They rest their foreheads against each other, enjoying the last bit of closeness.
Birkoff’s footsteps start making their way down the hallway and it’s only a matter of time before he comes upon them.
“I’ll go first,” he quietly mouths at Nikita, her lips just beginning to get that kiss swollen look.
Taking a step back while he adjusts his jacket, Michael takes in Nikita’s slightly mussed hair one final time before he turns and walks towards Birkoff.
“Yes?”
“The next batch of satellite images have finished rendering,” Birkoff informs him. “They’re ready for you.”
Michael goes to Nikita at the end of the week. By design the new Section One is identical to the old one, but enough changes exist to leave people in a slight state of disorganization.
He’d been busy and he was only afforded passing glimpses of Nikita in the days since they last saw each other. She’s curiously subdued despite the indulgence and promise of their stolen moment at the secondary site. She welcomed him into her home, but she kept her distance and avoided unnecessary contact with him.
“I didn’t choose to stay away,” he tells her honestly. I needed to, he thinks.
“But you did,” she succinctly pointed out. “So what’s changed?"
“Maybe enough time has passed.”
“Maybe too much time has passed, Michael,” she tells him and the thought almost causes his heart to stop. There’s a bluntness in Nikita’s tone. She’s not prepared to suffer fools.
“I hope not.”
He pours her more wine in an attempt to diffuse the tension.
“So why are you here now?”
“I missed you.”
Her eyes jerk up slightly as if surprised by his words. Despite fulfilling his promise to meet her, she clearly took his words from earlier with substantial skepticism.
“What does that mean, exactly?”
She’s cautious and protective with her heart. She has every right to be.
“I don’t mean to be obtuse, Michael, but you can’t blame me for needing more than that.”
He takes in her combative posture. Her arms are crossed on her chest and she leans back fully on her chair. The table they sit at is small but in that moment it feels like they’re miles away.
“You’ve always been in my thoughts, even as I kept myself away and apart from you. It was difficult doing so.”
Michael eases his chair towards Nikita’s side of the table. One of her hands moves to toy with her wine glass before she abandons it. The hand lies motionless on the table. He looks straight into her eyes and places his own hand on top of hers and squeezes.
“I want the opportunity for more…with you…free of external considerations and Section obstacles.”
The seconds tick by and Nikita’s eyes are clouded. She lets out a stuttering breath. She looks away from him and then at their hands before she quietly states, “Given recent events, I question whether those ‘external considerations and Section obstacles’ have all been entirely resolved.”
Nikita turns her hand in his and grips it tightly.
“Michael…Erroll Sparks and Simone were in the same room. If he survived, then she could have as well.”
He nods his head slightly in acknowledgment and lets his gaze drift away momentarily. When he turns his gaze back to Nikita, he is careful but honest with his word choice.
“I’ve gone over that possibility in my head. First as an operative and then as a husband.”
He sees Nikita flinch ever so slightly. The memory of his marriage to Elena is much sharper than his abstract marriage to Simone. However, his marriage to Simone was of his own choosing.
Nikita knows very little about his marriage to Simone. Most of what she does know was revealed during her friendly overture in the aftermath of the Glass Curtain mission.
They sat in the cafe in silence until Michael finally offered Nikita tiny details of the woman who was his wife. Most of what he shared could easily have been obtained by reading Simone’s file. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
Once it began, his and Simone’s relationship evolved quickly. There was an intensity to it that surprised many. Madeline had considered it an act of rebellion. A blemish on his perfect record. It was tolerated…barely because of his efficiency.
“If the possibility exists…I can’t put myself through that. You’re not mine. I have no claim. But if we were to do this, and Simone comes back, I’d be fighting a fight that I don’t know if I’d have a right to win.”
I am yours, he wants to tell her. Michael slowly turns their hands over and closes the distance even more between them. They are huddled together in their closeness. The clean smell of dish soap from the plates they’d washed together is stronger, the nearer he gets to her.
“I’ve mourned Simone twice,” he begins slowly.
“The first time was difficult. I couldn’t grieve for her the way I needed to. The second time was less so. You were the first person I ever allowed myself to talk to about Simone. You helped…in so many ways.”
What he leaves unspoken is how Nikita’s assignment to him had helped pull him from his depression from losing Simone the year prior.
“What will happen if Simone is still alive?”
Michael runs a finger across the back of Nikita’s hand, tracing the faint veins he sees through her almost translucent skin.
“That would depend on the circumstances of her reappearance. She would never be considered suitable for full operative status.”
“Maybe not as a field op, but there are plenty of other departments within Section.”
Honorable Nikita, already championing Simone’s case against cancellation. He would expect nothing less from her. It saddens him that he has to once again play the hardened pragmatist to her optimist, especially where Simone is concerned.
“You’re assuming she’s not more psychologically damaged than when we last saw her.”
It was cruel to think of Simone suffering out there. It took a long while for the nightmares of the flaming embers of his beloved wife’s final resting place to finally recede to only occasional visitors rather than frequent ones. It would be kinder to cancel Simone than to let her live in the state she would undoubtedly never want to be in. His brave, resilient, and proud Simone. Other than the need for revenge, it was no doubt why she refused to allow her own rescue. Coming to that realization was devastating to him. A locked door is what ultimately kept him from disrespecting his wife’s final wishes.
“Michael, be honest. Traumatized or not, when we found Simone three years ago, you were prepared to bring her back. I don’t doubt for a second that if you’d had more time, you would have torn that door down with your bare hands. What you’re saying now would have applied to her then. What’s changed?”
“Perspective,” he told her frankly. “Time,” he added.
“You.” He was gentle with the delivery.
Nikita looks uncomfortable with his admission.
“I loved Simone. Together we made Section bearable for each other. Section controlled our lives, but it couldn’t control how we felt.”
Nikita’s eyes softened at his words. There was so much compassion in them at this very moment. She licks her lips in hesitation.
“Will you tell me?”
Michael kept Simone locked away in a special place in his heart. Even though she was a part of his Section life, she now inhabited a place where his pre-Section life was, with his parents and sister. The memories were glossy and rarely visited, but they were there.
He’d shared limited facts about Simone with Nikita that one afternoon over a cup of coffee. Facts that were difficult to voice aloud because he’d buried them deep. Nikita was requesting something different. She wanted to know how he felt about Simone.
Michael considers Nikita’s request before he smiles imperceptibly.
“Have you ever heard of durian, the fruit.”
A tiny furrow appears between her brows at what she likely considers a non-sequitur.
“I can’t say that I have.”
“You’re lucky,” he deadpans. Nikita cocks her head and the furrow in her brow deepens even further, seemingly lost at his chosen topic of conversation.
“Durian is a tropical southeast Asian fruit with a spiky hard exterior that needs to be cut open like a pineapple. Calling it pungent is generous and the fruit inside is an acquired taste. Given its notoriety, it’s difficult to acquire. Simone loved it.”
Michael pauses momentarily, allowing himself to get lost in the memory. “After a mission, when you’re tired and the debrief is long and taxing, and there are still so many things that need your attention, finally going home to bed can be a reprieve.”
Nikita nods her head in understanding.
He lets the corner of his lips twitch upwards in humor.
“I once came home to Simone and an apartment that reeked of durian—a combination of sweaty gym socks, onion, and raw sewage.”
A gasp of surprise escapes Nikita’s lips and she wrinkles her nose in sympathy at his description.
“The mission had wrapped up early. She hadn’t expected me back so soon.”
“Clearly,” Nikita stifles a light chuckle at his previous misfortune. “What did you do?”
Michael shrugs his shoulders slightly.
“The only thing I could do. I kissed her hello. Then, I handed Simone her coat, hat and gloves—it was winter—and I opened all the windows, rubbed menthol ointment underneath my nose and went to bed.”
“Oh, Michael,” she chuckles softly and with affection.
“It was her little secret. Something she could only indulge in while I was away. She wanted to spare me the horror.”
Michael smiles softly at the memory. It was surprisingly easy to share once he got started.
“I hadn’t thought about that night in a long time. In the end, between our missions, and the time I needed to dedicate to Elena, we didn’t see each other as much as we’d like.”
Nikita looks at him intently. He can see her consider and then discard questions as quickly as she thinks of them. She takes a breath before she speaks.
“When…when did you ask her to marry you?”
It was a question he hadn’t expected. It was a moment in time that was special and private. With Simone gone, he fully expected to take the memory to his grave. The longer he took to answer, he could see Nikita emotionally folding into herself.
“It was…almost impulsive,” he manages to share.
Surprise reflects in Nikita’s eyes. Along with it was curiosity.
“Marriage was unnecessary. We were together, committed, and in love, but I wanted something that would bind us together. Something that was beyond Section’s control.”
“An act of defiance. To show that they don’t own you,” Nikita offers quietly.
“Yes,” he whispers.
Of course Nikita would understand. She would have responded favorably to his younger and more emotional self, even if it was hidden behind his stern exterior. It was there. He has no doubt that Nikita would have pulled it out of him. It would have been very dangerous.
“Simone was concerned. She was happy the way things were. Why upset Operations with something unnecessary? But I was adamant. It was just for us. I convinced her. She said yes.”
For all his discipline, love can make Michael do extremely passionate things. It’s why he works so hard to temper his feelings. Age and experience only go so far, they simply make him more confident in his abilities.
“We did it quietly a few months later at the mairie. We were both on two days’ downtime.
“A luxury…”
“The day was overcast and a cold front was coming in, but it was perfect.”
Nikita smiles at him. It’s genuine. She doesn’t begrudge him his memories of his wife. He hadn’t allowed himself to delve this deeply into those memories, but with Nikita by his side he feels the support to do so.
“How did Section find out?”
She is tentative with her question. Michael turns their joined hands and slowly, for comfort, rubs his thumb over her fingers.
“Almost a year went by. We carried on as normal, doing whatever the Section required of us, until I was critically injured on a mission. I was in a coma for three days. My chances of survival went down the longer I was unconscious.”
Her hand shifts and tightens in his. They are both clutching to each other for strength. He recounts what has never been recounted.
“On the third day, Simone was assigned to a mission. She told Operations that she wasn’t going.”
Tears shimmer in Nikita’s bright blue eyes. Her heart is open and she is taking his words and gently absorbing them. By giving them voice, he was paying tribute to Simone’s bravery.
“She wanted to be with you in case you didn’t…”
“Operations thought it unacceptable. It was also the first time we’d ever let our relationship interfere with Section. Simone…she told Madeline that she wasn’t leaving her husband’s death bed.”
It had pained him when Simone recounted the story. He had never doubted her love for him, but Michael had never wanted for it to hurt her. His love had wounded her far more severely than any weapon could have. It made her a target. That she returned his love signaled her as weak in the eyes of Section.
“She was allowed to stay. A final mercy before I died. Simone would have undoubtedly suffered the consequences of our actions if I had. I woke up a few hours later.”
“And then?”
“We were each sent on longer missions. There was less time to be together. My blood cover started a few months later, and a year after that, Simone was gone.”
Sometime during their conversation Nikita’s hand went from being held to doing the holding. She slowly rises and stands before him. His legs are slightly parted to accommodate her. Her fingertips, soft and warm, caress the side of his face. Nikita is contemplative.
In his chest, his heart constricts with a combination of yearning and concern. Was he willing to go through all that again? He would essentially be damning Nikita to the same fate.
Nikita needed to know the realities and the potential consequences. Being together is not without risks no matter how discrete they are.
He thinks of the loneliness and the years of his denied need for Nikita. He thinks of the fleeting peace he’s found in her arms. The women in his life all hold distinct and separate places in his heart. It doesn’t make any of them lesser, just different and always, always special. He has reached his conclusion with Simone and Elena. His feelings for Nikita are deeply profound. For him, there would be no turning back
“What if the situation was reversed? Would you resent Simone if she found companionship with someone else?”
“It would hurt, but I’d understand the circumstances. In her eyes I’d be dead. Who am I to deny her happiness if she can find? It’s the same with Elena. I want her to be happy. She deserves it.”
“And Adam?”
Thoughts of his young son will take some time ease.
“That part is still tender, but healing. What matters is that he’s safe with his mother, who loves him.”
She’s closer still. Her fingers trace his forehead, his brow and down to his chin. Her touch is light but imbued with electricity. Rising, Michael takes a hand from his face and kisses her fingers.
“I want to be worthy of you. If you need time. I’ll give you time. I spent too many years bound by obligation. Too many years craving what I couldn’t have. I’m no stranger to waiting, Nikita. I will wait for you.”
“If she is alive, it wouldn’t be fair to Simone.”
Her fingertips graze his lips. It takes a considerable amount of energy to not respond to her touch.
“If Simone survived the explosion and comes to Section, we’ll deal with it.”
“I want to be selfish,” she whispers quietly to herself, as if ashamed.
Michael wraps his own fingers around those at his mouth and kisses them once more before lowering them to heart. With his free hand, he cards his fingers through her hair and draws her near.
“We can be selfish together.”
Michael presses his lips to Nikita’s temple and he feels her shudder. His arm curls around her waist and holds her to him.
“I hope that we’re both at a point where we can welcome what the other has to offer.”
They stand there together, wrapped in comfortable silence. Their breathing has synchronized. They are known to be an efficient pairing within Section. They have only skimmed the surface of the passionate pairing they can be in private.
“Will you stay?” Her breath is warm against his cheek.
“I’d love to.”
Nikita presses forward and kisses him softly once and then twice. His lips respond to the sweetness that she offers. The kiss they share and the many afterwards are a promise to live in the present and to appreciate each other.
-30-