TOO LATE FOR WHAT IFS – PART 6

Michael looked down at her, his fingers rubbing her pulse point on her wrist, shocked to feel a single tear fall from his eye and splash onto her skin. Hurriedly, he wiped it away and then her wrist, grateful it had gone unseen by anyone and sat up straighter.

Come back to me Nikita. He whispered in her ear as he got to his feet to leave.

Nikita felt her heart leap in her chest at the sound of his voice. Desperately she tried to call out to him, but no sound would come. Through the haze of pain, she felt the sensation on her hand again and concentrated on keeping it.

Michael went to move away when he felt the distinct feeble movement of her fingers over his. Joy swept through him and he lifted her hand to his mouth kissing her cold fingers.

Kita… can you hear me? He whispered in her ear, his other hand smoothing back her hair. Again, he felt her squeeze. It was very weak but he gave a silent prayer and squeezed it back letting her know he felt it too. Nikita wanted to cry out for him to hold her, wondering where he was, why she couldn’t speak or see him.

I’m here Kita. Fight … fight to stay with me. His voice was distorted, echoing hollowly in her mind, the sound both frightened and comforted her.

Fight? Why fight? What’s wrong with me? She tried so hard to speak aloud, but her voice refused to work, the effort leaving her feeling as if she were beyond exhausted. The pain was overwhelming yet she welcomed it. It was a none too subtle way of reassuring her she was indeed still alive. Alive yet seemingly in hell. If she could cry, she would have, her body trembled out of control as more waves of pain hit her, relentless in its energy.

Where are you Michael? Make this pain stop.. Help me….

Nikita fought so hard to beat back the pain but all too soon, a blanket of blackness took over her once again, of which she gratefully gave in to. Michael felt her hand go slack, her heart beat on the monitors becoming more regular and he gave a silent prayer.

Sleep. Michael gave her one last look and turned rather reluctantly to leave. His meeting with Madeline was fast approaching.

Operations paced to and fro in the perch, his mind mulling over the past 24 hours. Losing Walter wasn’t easy in a lot of ways. Not only was the older man good at his job, but he was someone Operations actually felt a respect for, even if he chose not to show it often. He wasn’t surprised Walter killed himself. He was getting older and having found love with Belinda and then losing her to the system was more then he was willing to accept at this stage of the game. He should have anticipated that and this too made him angry.

Operations took out one of his thin cigars, lighting it, happy to breathe in the rich smoke. Glancing down at his watch, he was shocked to see the time. The small bright green numbers flashed 7:50 pm at him. Tucking his hand into his one pocket, he made his way over to the message system to check for any last messages for the day. He was tired and grumpy. What he needed was a good roll in bed with Madeline but those days too,,, were now gone. She had moved on but he was still very much in love with her and it was a thorn in his side ever since.

As he waited for the messages to download, he looked absently over at one of the security monitors and saw the elegantly clad Madeline walking down a corridor on level 10, heading for what appeared to be the Tower. The beep of the computer indicated his messages were now waiting and he pulled his attn to them. One message stared back at him in particular. It was from Madeline. Punching it up, his eyes scanned the contents. A feeling of anger boiled in his belly when he finished it and he looked back at the screen, pulling hard on the cigar in his frustration. She had entered the Tower doors and was now out of view but now, making his mood even darker, was the appearance of Michael as he too entered the Tower door.

What the hell…….. He muttered, not bothering to quell the feeling of jealousy at what appeared to be happening sunk in. Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a gun, cocking it as he all but ran out the door.

Madeline turned to look over at him as he entered the tower. She smiled faintly, noticing the fact he hadn’t changed his clothing since coming back from the mission. She wasn’t surprised but was disappointed nevertheless.

Hello. She greeted him pouring some wine and offering him the tall fluted glass.

Not really wanting it, he accepted anyways, hoping the wine would dull the upcoming task at hand.

Madeline watched him with bemused eyes, knowing his thoughts immediately. Refreshing his glass, she gave him a look.

Try not to drown yourself. She said wryly placing the bottle back in the ice bucket.

I prefer my men alive and breathing, not choking. She added sipping on her glass enjoying Michaels discomfort immensely.

He watched her slim form move about the posh room, the sway of her hips not going unnoticed.

If I tried hard enough, I might be able to get it up. He thought to himself feeling like he was about to seduce an aunt of his or something. The whole thing was making him want to bolt but he knew it was not an option at this point.

You look lovely. He managed to get out in the best seductive tone he could muster. He wondered if his training would get him through the next hour or two or if he would finally experience his first bout of impotence.

Madeline seated herself on the huge leather couch, motioning him to join her.

Michael’s feet felt like lead but he managed to move with his usual grace and seat himself a discreet distance from her without insulting her.

Why Michael, you look just as you did all those years ago on our first training session. Was it that horrible? She asked making herself comfortable, the slit in her dress opening up to reveal a thigh.

No, it was,, He struggled to find the right word and set his glass down on the table in front of them. Enlightening.

Madeline laughed at his choice of words and placed her feet onto his lap leaning against the sofas armrest.

Michael looked down at her high heeled shoes and placed his hands on her ankles, rubbing her skin in small slow circles.

Madeline wriggled her toes, indicating he should remove her shoes. Concentrating on what he was doing, he kept his eyes down on her feet as his fingers easily slipped each shoe from her small feet with relative ease.

Tell me Michael.. Why did you come here tonight?

Placing her shoes off to the side, he turned his head to look at her. Brown eyes met green and he knew he had better choose his words wisely.