COMPOSURE

By LORRAINE O.

Nikita sat bolt upright, cold rivulets of sweat poured down her face as she gasped for air, heart banging painfully in her chest. Clutching the sheets in her lap, her wild eyes darted about in the dimly lit bedroom. Slowly, she realized she was safe, back in her apartment and not in that asylum. It was, in her opinion, the mission from hell. Madeline had worked long and hard with her, preparing her for the task of portraying a convincing young woman who was badly delusional. With the help of heavy sophisticated drugs, hypnosis and subliminal messages, Nikita had pulled it off but not without consequences. It would take some time before she would be over the after effects, able to resume her duties. After spending 1 full week in Med Lab, she had been released, sent home to recuperate rest and gather herself for regular duty.

Michael had taken her under his wing, unbeknownst to Section, was helping her over the rough patches she was still experiencing. The sound of the kettle in her kitchen caught her attention as did the smell of chicken soup. Wiping her arm over her face, she peered around the partition seeing the familiar form of Michael stirring a pot, his back facing her, seemingly unaware of her watchful stare.

Swallowing the diminishing panic she felt moments ago, Nikita pushed the covers back, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed.

Michael, sensing she was awake turned his head just in time to see her scantily clad form disappear into the bathroom. Wiping his hands on a towel, he turned the heat down on the soup then started a pot of tea for her. The sound of the toilet flushing followed by the sink alerted him she would soon be out. Sure enough, the bathroom door opened and she emerged wrapped in a white terry cloth floor length bathrobe, her hair wet and slicked back from her face.

Pausing at the top stair, she pulled the sash tight about her slender waist and looked over at him with still sleepy eyes.

That smells good. She said casually trying to hide the fact her legs felt like lead and her head hurt terribly.

Michael came forward, meeting her at the bottom of the stairs, his hand reaching for hers as she descended. Nikita took hold of it, grateful for his help and smiled weakly.

Are you hungry? He asked placing his arm around her waist, hand resting on her hip possessively as he walked with her to the small glass top kitchen table.

Nikita nodded, sitting down heavily in the chair he pulled out for her, scanning the place setting in front of her.

Once he was sure she was settled, he turned back to the kitchen, spooned out a bowlful of the soup and brought it to her.

Thanks Michael. She touched his arm, pleasantly surprised when he leaned down placing a soft kiss on her mouth.

Pulling back only slightly, he smiled at her faintly

Eat. He whispered giving her yet another kiss before standing upright again.

Nikita blushed tasting him on her wet lips watching him move away to the now fully steeped tea on the stove top. Nikita picked up the spoon, stirring the steamy rich looking broth, inhaling the wonderful aroma it gave. Sipping slowly, she enjoyed the taste as it spread over her tongue, her blue eyes closed happily at the sensation it produced. He always seemed to know what she needed and Nikita found it comforting.

Coming back, Michael placed the teapot on the table and sat down opposite her, his green eyes regarding her silently.

Oh Michael, this is the best chicken soup I have ever tasted. She smiled tiredly over her spoon at him as she took another mouthful.

Leaning back in his chair, he crossed his legs looking content.

Thank you. He replied crossing his arms over his chest.

Nikita finished the bowl, placing the spoon aside, and her eyes coming back up to meet his. Where do they think you are?

Michael looked off to the right for a moment and then answered. I am on downtime for the next 2 days.

Nikita raised her eyebrows in surprise. Really? What do you plan to do with them?

Michael gave her a look of confusion.

Your 2 days off,, what are you going to do with them? She explained herself taking a sip of the piping hot tea.

You don’t want me here? He finally asked giving her one of his classic blank stares.

Nikita shook her head, setting her cup down as she carefully swallowed as to not burn her throat. No, I didn’t say that.

Michael felt a sense of relief at her reassurance as he had felt so guilty after the aborted retrieval attempt. The look on her face, the sound of her voice had haunted him hourly as they dragged her back into the deep dark recesses of the asylum. He had never felt as powerless as he had that day.

Michael,,,, you feel guilty, don’t you? Her voice brought him back to the present and he looked at her carefully before answering.

Of course not. He lied easily and he despised himself for it. Here was a woman he trusted with his life and he was lying to her

Yes, you do. She said quietly searching his face for any signs that she may have guessed right but found none. Well, don’t. It wasn’t your fault. The Intel panned out. I had to stay in.

She gave him a faint smile then looked away as a flash of pain ripped through her head. Wincing, she rubbed her temple gasping at the ache it caused making Michael lean forward in his chair, his face showing his concern.

Are you alright? He asked placing his hand over hers on the table, waiting for her to get past the episode she was experiencing.

Nikita nodded, groaning as she glanced over to him. Yeah,,, just help me back to bed. She pushed back her chair, grateful for his arm supporting her weight firmly as he led her across the room and up the small steps to her room. Nikita rested her head on his shoulder as they walked slowly to her bedside. Could you get the aspirin? My head is killing me right now. She gasped as another pain ripped into her skull.

Michael helped her to sit on the beds edge and went for the meds. Within moments, he was back holding two small pills and a glass of water. Kneeling in front or her, he offered them both to her which she took immediately.

Swallowing back the water, she shakily held out the glass to him. Thank you. She murmured pulling the robe tighter around herself as a chill passed over her making her shake all the more.

Michael stood back up, setting the glass on hr nightstand. Get up for a moment. He said, tucking his hands under her arms and lifting her to her feet.

Nikita wrapped hr arms about his neck for support, surprised the swiftness of the aspirin she just took. Her legs refused to support her suddenly and her head eased up but was now dizzy.

Whoa, Michael,,, what did you give me? She giggled as he pulled the covers back, balancing her in his arms at the same time. Pulling her robe off her shoulders with relative ease, he was relieved to see she wore a small tank top and panties underneath.

They weren’t aspirin. He tossed the robe onto the end of the bed and laid her back onto the sheets, covering her.

Nikita wrapped her arms around his neck, not allowing him to move away and gave him a kiss, her tongue demanding entry to his mouth.

Michael fought his natural urges and pulled her hands off of the back of his neck, shaking his head.

No Nikita,, sleep. He placed her hands under the covers, tucking her in much like a child at night making Nikita frown, her eyelids closing.

Mi-chael…. Her voice faded and her head turned to the side going limp.

Sitting down on the edge beside her, Michael reached out pulling the long blonde hair from her now sleeping face.

Me too. He smiled wanting what she had wanted so badly just moments ago.

THE END.

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