TRUTHS AND OTHER THINGS THAT HURT

By LORRAINE O.

AN EXTENTION TO THE END OF LOOKING FOR MICHAEL

The boy,,, is he yours? Nikita held her breath, dreading the answer she already knew; yet needing to hear it even if it stabbed at her like a deranged killer.

Michael held his ground, his face softening for a moment seeing the hurt in her eyes as she waited, resting on the wall behind her.

Yes.

He finally answered her in a hushed, almost guilty sounding voice.

Nikita felt the blood drain from her face and she nodded, unable to find her voice.

Michael glanced about, making sure no one saw them before reaching out with his hand, touching her elbow gently.

Nikita turned her face down and off to the side, unable to look at him and swallowed convulsively, her arm burning where his hand rested, relishing and yet hating the firm pressure he held it in. Nikita took in a shaky breath, the past few days event seemingly smashed into her all at once and it left her drained. Section trying to kill her off after she aided Adrian, and now this. The man she loved was married and father to a young son. Blood mission or not, he lied to leaving her bereft of feelings. Forcing back the tears she felt welling up behind her tired eyes, she pulled her arm free of his touch, and pushed past him, knocking him back a step.

He followed her retreating form with his eyes, making up his mind to go and see her once he had made his excuses to Elena, his wife. The word left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Nikita pulled her bathrobe about her shivering body tighter and sat down on the huge couch, drawing her feet up under her bum. Once she was comfortable, she reached forward, picking up the large mug of steamy hot chocolate, and cupped it gently in both her hands. Breathing in the sweet aroma, she sighed tiredly trying to sort out her mixed emotions. Flashes of past events rushed through her mind, playing like a bad movie trailer. Life on the streets, the rain and the cold. The fateful night her life changed for the worse. The flash of the bloodstained knife in the rain, sirens, the judge, the clang of the cell door closing, her death.

Nikita let a sob burst forth from deep in her chest; her one hand covered her eyes as she sobbed quietly, the tears falling freely. Her death indeed.

Waking up in Section, seeing him there, then being told by Madeline the rules of her new existence, it went on and on. Sniffing into a Kleenex, she wiped another batch of wet tears from her pale cheeks and then sipped on the sweetness of her drink. The only thing that got her thru the past years in Section was the love she shared with Michael. To learn of his marriage and now his having a son, despite the fact it was only a mission was devastating. It was more he had not told her, allowed their relationship to slowly bloom, to allow her to give him her heart when he already held one in his hands. It wasn’t fair, nothing in Section was fair and she hated them for it. Hated him for lying, hating him for deceiving her, hated him for not trusting her.

Getting the her feet, she set the mug down and stalked up the steps to her room, shrugging the robe off as she stood in front of her dresser, naked, looking for her jogging set. Thinking about this was driving her insane. A good run in the park would help.

Michael watched her leave, her ponytail swinging side to side as she set off at an easy gait, her face looking drawn. Knowing he was to blame didn’t help his own mood as he sat on his bike watching her disappear into the crowds on the sidewalks. He figured she would return in about an hour, Just enough time to make them a dinner. A dinner he hoped she would eat and not throw in his face.

Parking the bike in the underground lot, he lifted his leg up and over the seat, pulling the helmet off, shaking out his hair.

Taking the elevator, he reached her 6th floor apt in no time and used his key to let himself in. The stereo was still on, confirming to him, her state of mind. The strains of the music were haunted, sad and mellow, unlike the techno tunes she usually filled her home with. Even when she was at her worst, it was that techno that she played. This time, it was different. The music reflected her heart and he saw he had damaged it badly this time.

Michael took his jacket off, setting it on the kitchen counter and took in the state of her apt. Her clothes were in a trail leading to her room, the bathroom still slightly damp from the long shower she had taken. Her towels were in heaps, as was her long bathrobe he had given her for her birthday last year. It was one of a set he had bought himself. The kitchen counter had chocolate powder spread across it, a dirty spoon lie in the middle; a small puddle of milk lay in its centre. The fridge door was slightly ajar so he pushed it shut as he went into the living room. It was going to take him the full hour to clean up as well as get something cooking.

A full hour had passed and yet no sight of Nikita. Michael sipped on the wine he had brought tucked under his jacket, surveying the apt. It was cleaned; her clothes hung and put away, the kitchen cleared and dinner cooking slowly in the oven, the rich aroma filling the air.

Michael began to feel his nerves come undone, waiting for her return. He had never let himself into her apt without her permission and given the reasons for his presence there now, he was sure there would be repercussions.

He knew she was devastated by her discovery of his mission marriage. Many times he had found reasons to tell her, and many times, he found reasons not to.

Pushing his sleeve up to his elbow, he turned and walked out onto the large balcony, breathing in the mild evening air. Below, the city was beginning to take on its night aura. Street lights began to pop on, office towers lit up, streets filled with evening walkers, families out for after dinner walks, dogs barking happily on their leashes, taxis bustling about picking up and dropping of the many singles going out on dates. The sky took on a purple and pink hue, shades of pale yellow tinging the edges of the few clouds that speckled the sky. He wished he were a part of that world. The real world. A world where he was waiting for his wife, where their kids were sitting on the floor watching TV, doing homework, a world where wearing a tie didn’t depend on making him look the part of a regular guy and not the killer he had become. He closed his eyes momentarily, swallowing back the last of his drink, wishing he were the man he used to be so many years ago.

Running his hands thru his long hair, he bent his head back completely unaware of the eyes boring into his back.

Nikita had entered her apt, knowing immediately there was someone there. She was surprised to see how well it had been cleaned and even more surprised to smell dinner in her oven. His jacket on the counter was a dead giveaway as to whom it was who had gone to all the trouble.

Wiping her forehead with her arm, she pulled the earphones from her ears, padding quietly across the hardwood floors to the open balcony doors. Peering around the corner, she raised an eyebrow at seeing him. His back was to her, the ends of his hair lifting in the breeze as he stared out into the city. A wide range of emotions played over her seemingly all at once. Surprise, pleasure, resentment, curiosity, and resignation topped off with a healthy dose of hurt and anger. Crossing her arms over her chest, she leaned against the doorframe.

What are you doing here?

She made sure her voice was calm, even, a total lie as she felt the complete opposite.

Michael pulled his head back down, but didn’t turn to face her. Instead, he turned his head to the side slightly and spoke.

We need to talk.

Nikita pulled her Discman from her waistband, shutting the music off, and then brought her eyes back up to look at him once again.

Suddenly he wants to talk.

She said it more as a statement, making sure he could hear the sarcasm and hurt in her voice. He did and he flinched inwardly. With the glass still in his hand, he turned around; facing the one woman in the world he cared for more then himself. The angry look she wore back in Section had moved from her pale face into the deep blue pools of her eyes, and he felt that anger as if she had physically slapped him. She looked beautiful as he always found her to be. Covered in blood, dirt, it didn’t matter. Even now, the sweat still poured from her and she was beautiful. He swallowed, forcing himself to appear calm and collected as he stepped towards her. He saw her visibly pull back, her whole body retracting from his as he closed the distance.

Will you listen?

He asked being careful to keep his hands firmly cupped around the glass he held. Touching her in anyway was not an option at this point and he knew it.

Nikita looked down at her feet, then off to the side.

I need a shower and you need to leave.

She drew back from him and headed for the steps leading to her bedroom, knowing he followed her with his eyes as he always did. As much as she wanted him to leave, she hoped he would still be there when she got out of her shower. He was going to wear her frustration one way or the other this night.

Tossing the Discman onto the bed, she pulled her sweaty t-shirt from her torso, and shut the bathroom door, locking it loudly, making sure he heard it.

He did, and it made him smile slightly. How he loved her spirit, her determination to remain aloof when they both knew how much she wanted to be with him in all ways. He held the upper hand only because he had mastered the art of hiding his emotions better then she. Her anger was real, of that he had no doubt, but he wasn’t leaving so easily. He would make her see his side even if it took him all night.

Knowing she had been much longer then she really needed, Nikita turned the water off, towelling her hair vigorously, all the while wondering if he were still there. Deep down, she knew he would be and she opened the door, a cloud of steam billowing out like a thick fog as she stepped out to her room.

She heard the sound of a pot being put into the sink confirming it and she sighed, still feeling angry.

Ignoring the fact he could probably see her outline clearly in the rice paper room separator, she went about naked as she rummaged thru her clothes for something to wear. Damned if she would try and hide in her own place. Pulling on a white one-piece catlike suit, she sipped on a black mesh pullover top with a shirt cut hem that came to her slim hips.

Barefoot, she came down the steps pulling a brush thru her damp hair.

Michael had poured her a glass of wine at her place setting and had lit 2 candles, hoping it created a soft calm feeling in which for them to talk.

She ignored both the intimate setting and him, choosing to instead, seat herself on one of the huge chairs in her living room.

Something that was noticed by him right away, but he let it slide by, determined to speak to her this night. Wiping his hands off on a towel, he turned the heat down on the oven and picked up her glass, taking it to her.

You look wonderful.

He lowered the glass he held down so it was within her visual range.

Nikita looked at it and then reluctantly took it from him.

Seating himself across from her on the couch, Michael watched her set the wine down, untouched.

She glanced up at him, fingers busily making a braid.

I wanted to tell you about Elena..

Elena.. Your wife’s name. Pretty… very pretty. She interrupted him, eyes flashing fire at him, her cheeks beginning to pink up as her anger rose in turn.

It was a mission I put in before you even came to Section.

He continued not letting her get to him with her hurtful tone.

I don’t love her Nikita.

Nikita let her hands drop onto her knees, the slap sounding loud in both their ears.

Oh well, gee,, Michael,,, why didn’t you say so?

Why that just makes me feel so much better.

She watched his face for any signs of anger, yet found none. Damn him for hiding his thoughts and feelings so well. She thought to herself fighting back the urge to slap him where he sat.

Michael clasped his hands together, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes looking across the coffee table at her. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy.

Nikita, please, it wasn’t my idea to be in this deep. No one knew it would go this long, especially not me. I didn’t have a choice.

No,,, of course not Michael,,, we all know we don’t have choices in Section. But you had a choice to tell me or not, didn’t you? No, don’t answer me on that one Michael… of course you had the choice. But you chose not to tell me. She pulled up her feet, hugging her knees as she glared at him.

Michael blinked a few times, his tongue darting out for a moment, wetting his now dry lips.

It has nothing to do with my feelings for you.

Nikita burst out in a harsh laugh, dropping her feet back down to the floor and standing up to pace back and forth.

Your feelings? Are you sure you have those Michael?

I’m sorry.

Nikita stopped short, turning to face him. I seem to recall a conversation just like this the first year after I was made an operative. You lied to me then… what was his name,, the child slaver….

Alec Chandler.

He cut in calmly. Nikita clamped her mouth shut, fearing the venom she wanted to spit at him. Instead, she gave a snort, pushing back the rapidly unravelling braid back over her shoulder. Yes,,, Chandler…. You came to this very apt, professing how sorry you were then too.

You wanted to kill me then.

He said looking up at her as she stood her ground, fire flashing in those eyes he loved so much.

Nikita nodded. Yes,,, I should have pulled the trigger.

You want to kill me now?

I can count the times I have wanted to kill you, and yes,,, I do.

Nikita went back to her chair, sat down and picked up her glass of untouched wine. Downing half of it, she licked her lip, staring at the deep red hue. As always, his taste in wine was impeccable and it made her frown all the more.

You always do this Michael… you get me to think I can trust you, I give you my heart and what do you do? You smash it under those size 11’s of yours.

She motioned towards his feet and took yet another deep drink, finishing it off.

Don’t say it,,,, You have no choice. It’s your job. Section owns you, blah blah blah. Well please spare me the usual speech. I don’t accept it anymore. Yes, Section owns us,, but they don’t own our souls, our conscience, our judgements. They didn’t tell you not to tell me of your marriage. That was all your doing. You made a mistake, again.

She got to her feet, her hands waving about. Turning to look at him, she pointed her finger at him, continuing.

Section wanted to kill me. So you helped me to leave. 6 months of being out there Michael… 6 months of trying to not think of you, of us. Then we meet again, and you finally tell me how much you needed me, that you cared. We made love that night on the boat Michael, the first time of many. You led me to believe it was you and I. Even then, you were married. You fought for me with Jurgen, you pushed, pulled, killed over and over to keep me with you and thought nothing of it. Yet, you weren’t free to be with me and you knew it. You taught me to trust in you, only to pull the rug out from under me all in the name of Section. The speech where you are a man divided…. Gawd. Mission after mission, meeting you in secret. Defying the odds all in the name of your love for me. What a joke.

Nikita tried to catch her breath, her heart pounding as she let her frustrations out at him.

Michael set his glass down on the table and stood up, his hair falling into his eye as he watched her stalk away from him.

Nikita slammed the glass down on the kitchen counter and picked up his jacket and hurled it at him.

I wont let you hurt me anymore Michael. You can be the solitary man you were before you met me. Leave my heart to me.

Michael caught the jacket just as it hit him in the chest, the hard zipper cut the skin on his hand, yet he paid little heed to the prick of red it now oozed. With quiet stealth grace, he let the jacket fall to the floor, his green eyes glittering with pent up emotions and he moved slowly towards her.

Nikita lifted her chin, standing her ground watching this man she loved beyond all reason, this man she hated beyond all reason slowly close the space between them.

Michael stopped only when their bodies touched, their breath mingling with the other. Lifting his hand to his mouth, he licked the blood from his skin, watching her like a wild animal watching its prey.

Nikita glared back at him, determined not to give in to his seductive ways.

Lifting her hand to his bloodstained lips, he kissed her knuckles.

Leaving you alone is not an option Nikita. Accept that as fact.

Michael watched her expression closely, recognizing the subtle signs of her resolve crumbling. He held his breath, hoping she wouldn’t turn away from him, hoping she wouldn’t forsake him, hoping for a miracle.

Nikita turned her face away from his, closing her eyes, wishing she had the strength to cut him from her life, wishing she could tell him to go to hell and never give him a second thought. It was hopeless. He possessed her, mind body and whatever soul she had left.

I accept nothing.

She managed to get out in a shaky voice, attempting to ignore the feel of his warm hand holding hers in his so tightly. It was then he brought her hand to him, laying it open palmed onto his chest, right above his heart.

You accept all.

He said in a husky voice, forcing her hand still when she resisted him.

Nikita felt tears form in the back of her eyes, stinging them as she blinked rapidly.

Why can’t you stop hurting me Michael?

She brought her eyes up to meet his and was surprised to see he too was emotionally moved, his green eyes appearing almost glassy.

I was protecting you.

From what?

From this.

This?

Yes, this.

Nikita snatched her hand from under his and bent down to pick up his jacket, holding it close to her face, breathing in his scent that was mixed with the scent of the leather.

I never asked for your protection Michael. I told you that just before I left Section and I am telling you now.

And without it you would be dead.

No Michael… without me, you are dead.

The truth slapped them both like a hurricane force wind, stinging and brutal. Nikita stared at him, his face seemed to go slack for a split second and then he drew himself up straight, turned and went into the kitchen.

Nikita followed him with her eyes as he went about serving dinner. Furrowing her eyebrows, she puzzled over why he was going about like nothing happened just now. A part of her wasn’t surprised though… that was Michael for you. Always the enigma. Setting his jacket on the counter once again, she leaned on the wall, watching him pull out an incredible beef roast with all the trimmings from her oven, the aroma wrapping itself around her like a warm inviting blanket. Her stomach growled making her realize just how hungry she really was. Her thoughts were interrupted by his voice calling to her. Blinking, Nikita looked up and saw him standing by the dining room table, chair in his hand waiting for her to be seated. Giving in, she sat down, murmuring her thanks as he slid her chair forward for her.

Michael took his seat across the table from her and began slicing the meat.

Dinner was eaten in silence, both lost in their own thoughts, trying hard to appear calm to the other,,, both failing miserably. It was Michael who broke the quiet first.

You are right, Nikita. I am dead without you.

He sipped his wine, green eyes taking in her beauty with mute appreciation as always.

Nikita swallowed, setting her fork down, waiting for him to continue.

I do what I do on Sections behalf Nikita. Like I have told you in the past, I am a man divided. No one but you sees the other side of me. I didn’t want you to see this side of me. This mission wasn’t meant to go this long. Her father is a smart man and trying to lure him to her is not going well. Having a child was Sections idea, an idea I fought as hard as I could to refuse.

He paused taking another sip of his drink, his face reflecting his turmoil as he continued.

As always, Section wins and I was forced into being a parent. It was about that time you came to Section. It didn’t take me long to realize what was happening to me. You and my son made me want to live again. I didn’t want to, but they are evil, they know how to get in our heads and I allowed them to get into mine. Nikita, I love my son beyond reason, despite how he came to me. It’s the same for you. I wanted you to never know of his existence, or rather, not know until I felt it was right. I knew you would not handle it well as I wouldn’t. Now look at us.

Nikita took in his words; amazed at the amount he spoke. It was the longest speech he had ever given her since she knew him.

You say you trust me Michael, you let me in your world, but it’s always on your terms. It can’t work that way. You can’t dole out how much of you you want me to know, want to see. That’s not fair to either of us. If you want us, if you want me, you have to stop hiding from me. I will never hurt you like they have Michael.

I know. He replied offering her his hand across the table.

Nikita looked down at it and then back to his eyes, keeping her hands on her lap.

Then why do you treat me like I will?

Michael pulled his hand back slowly, admiring how she stood her ground, not giving into him like most women would have by now. It was one of the reasons he loved her so.

Its getting late. He commented, wiping his mouth with the napkin and then set it down. Getting to his feet, he pushed the chair back in.

Nikita smiled, knowing she had made her point and nodded, leaning back in her chair, legs crossed as she swirled the contents of her glass.

Michael went to clear the table and she shook her head.

No, leave it. I can do it later.

She touched his arm as he went to take her plate.

Michael set the plate back down and pulled her hand from his arm up to his mouth and kissed it gently, his tongue grazing over her smooth knuckles.

Good night Michael.

She whispered loving the feel of his mouth on her.

Michael stood back up right and watched in awe as she in turn pulled his hand to her mouth, returning the soft kiss to his knuckles. After a moment, she reluctantly let his hand go and stared down at her lap, hoping he would go quickly. The sound of the door lock clicking echoed loudly in her head, signalling she was alone once again. Alone yet not alone. A small hollow laugh came from deep in her throat as she looked down at the still wet knuckles where he kissed her and brought it to her cheek.

Michael……………