AFTER THE FACT

By LORRAINE O.

Nikita shifted in her seat, legs crossed casually under the table as she toyed with the dainty silver butter knife. Her blue eyes staring sightlessly at the tablecloth, tiny lace edges blurring into a white mass of nothing. The warmth of his hand over hers brought her back sharply. Looking up, she dropped the knife and sat up straighter in her seat, a distinct flush coming over her.

Sorry. What did you say?

She asked pulling her hand from under his and reaching for the fancy goblet of ice water. Bringing it to her red lips, she took a small sip, waiting for him to speak. Michael observed her with his dark green eyes, knowing why she was distracted and obviously uncomfortable. He didn't blame her for it either. He too felt awkward, almost ashamed of the past week and what had transpired. They both knew he did it for Section, but it wasn't helping to alleviate the tension between them.

I didn't say anything.

He responded, sitting back upright, bringing his hand back to his lap. Nikita sighed, setting her goblet down. Looking down at the plush dark blue carpeting, she cleared her throat.

I was doing my job Nikita.

He said in a quiet tone of voice. Nikita pulled her eyes back up to meet his, nodding.

Yes, I know. But I had to sit and watch you do your job.

She answered her chin trembled slightly at the memory. To watch him make love to that woman. she shuddered inwardly. Michael scanned the intimate setting they were in wishing he could make her feel better some how.

She meant nothing.

He said after a moment of silence passed between them. Nikita gave a small laugh, a small tear of bitterness falling from her eye onto her lap leaving a small dark spot on the pale pink of her skirt. She was grateful she had left her hair down for it provided her with a convenient wall in which to hide behind.

Yes, I know that too. Is it supposed to make me feel better?

She rubbed her nose with the linen napkin and set it back down on her lap looking back at him, her eyes shimmering.

I hate this job, this existence we are forced to live.

Leaning forward, her elbows on the crisp white tablecloth she motioned him forward. Michael obliged, waiting for her to continue.

I am getting out.

She whispered, her fingertips grazed over the vein on the top of his hand. Michael blinked his green eyes a few time, grasping what she had just announced so earnestly. He swallowed, sitting back up, his hand pulled from hers and reached for his drink. The cool wine slid down his constricted throat, making him grimace slightly in an attempt to swallow it. Nikita remained leaning on the table, watching him carefully.

Come with me Michael. Come with me and lets try to make something of our broken lives.

Michael set down his glass, his eyes scanning the dining room as he tried to think of what to say to her to make her change her mind. Bringing his gaze back to hers, he took in her still innocent beauty. She was a lifeline for him in so many ways, the thought of her leaving Section made him almost physically sick to his stomach.

You know that's not possible Nikita.

His voice was barely above a whisper. Nikita gave him a partial smile and became serious once again.

Yes, it is Michael. It may not last long, but its better then this. I want to be able to walk down a beach, feed the birds, go to a movie,,,,,

She paused swallowing as she reached for his hand and held it tightly between hers.

To be able to make love with each other when we choose, when we choose, with no fear that the level of our performance will have a direct effect on a mission.

Michael looked down at his hand clasped between hers, feeling the warmth of her skin on his.

No one leaves Section Nikita. I must have taught you that much.

He said quietly, his jaw twitched fighting the urge to accept her offer and run. Nikita brought his hand to her lips, grazing his knuckles with them before she spoke.

And didn't I teach you how to live again, to smile, to trust again?

Nikita brought her eyes back up to his, a tear spilling over onto their hands. Michael felt his insides wrench painfully at the sight. They sat staring at the other, strains of music and hushed conversations from the other patrons going unheard. The sudden twitter of Michaels cell sounded. Michael remained frozen, making no move to answer it. Nikita looked at him, her eyes begging him to not answer. Michael looked away, pulling his hands from hers and reached into his jacket, flipping it open.

Yes?

Nikita sighed sadly, reaching for her goblet once again, downing the contents in one gulp. Flipping the cell off once again, Michael got to his feet, going around to her chair.

We have to go in.

He said, his hand rubbing her shoulder. Nikita leaned her head onto his hand, her cheek resting on the back of it.

I know.

She whispered closing her eyes for a moment, trying to make the moment last just a few seconds more. Leaning down, Michael whispered in her ear, sending a thrill through her at his words.

One day.. one day we will be free Nikita. I will make it happen.