| Subject: This I Offer 13/20 |
Author:
Athena4
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Date Posted: 17:18:17 03/09/02 Sat
In reply to:
Athena4
's message, "This I Offer" on 14:58:36 03/03/02 Sun
Seated on the bench within the copse of trees that separated the main garden from the roses, Madeline watched Martin pace in front of her. The shadows played across his face, highlighting the look of worry he was trying very hard to hide.
“Adrian’s getting impatient,” he said meekly, running a hand through already dishevelled hair. “It’s been over a week since your initial encounter; she thinks you’re moving too slow – losing focus or something.”
Madeline’s breath caught momentarily, a vision of just how focused she’d been on Ryker lately invading her mind. “Ryker isn’t as trusting as I thought,” she said, leaning forward on the bench in an attempt to catch Martin’s eye. “I told you that yesterday, and the day before. I can’t force this – or we’ll lose ground.”
Martin stopped walking, crouching down in front of her. “Mission aside, I’m worried about you, Madeline,” he whispered, looking around nervously. “You look tired.”
Madeline smiled softly, taking her companion’s hand and pulling him up onto the bench next to her. It was more than the circles under her eyes that were making Martin worry; sometimes his insight surprised her. “I’m a grieving widow, Martin. I have to look the part. “ Martin raised a questioning eyebrow, and she sighed, patting his hand as though he were a small child. “I’m fine,” she reiterated, doing her best to look it. The words had become almost an incantation for her – as if saying them made it true.
A look of disbelief froze on Martin’s face, and he frowned, tightening his grip on her hand. “I wish you’d stop saying that. The last time you told me you were fine, you were bleeding all over my leather jacket.”
“This is hardly the same,” Madeline snapped. Turning to Martin, she immediately regretted her tone. His face had gone ashen, his hand releasing hers as he stood and backed away.
“Listen,” he mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I was … “
“Maybe I’m not all right…” she said suddenly, surprising them both with her admission. They both knew what the confession implied, but they let the silence hang there; a blanket above them, while they absorbed it. Finally, Madeline began again, shaking her head to dislodge a few scattered memories that were creeping into her mind. “Adrian isn’t the only one impatient for the end of this mission, Martin. I need to go home.”
“I understand,” he said, sitting back down on the edge of the bench. The look of worry remained, but now it was accompanied by sympathy. “How much longer, do you think?”
“A couple more days, at most,” she replied, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand. “The files aren’t in the library or his study, at least not in a form I can access…I need to get into his apartments, but so far I haven’t been invited. Maybe he keeps them under his pillow?”
Martin grinned, chuckling softly. “I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.” He paused, reaching into the pocket of his apron to retrieve a small vial. “This should help when you do get in. It’ll knock him out for a couple of hours.”
“Thanks,” she said, pocketing the vial. “That will make things easier.”
Madeline sighed, trying and failing to hide the pained expression on her face. She had begun to anticipate her meetings with Martin. He was her connection to the stable environment of Section – a connection, albeit tenuous, to Paul. With the meeting at an end, she had to return once more to Ryker and the depraved comfort she found in his arms.
Seeing her expression, Martin’s grin faded, and he placed his hand atop hers. “You’re not alone, you know.”
She smiled sadly, standing to walk towards the tree line . As she exited the copse, she turned back a moment, to find Martin staring after her.
He was wrong; once she left his side, she was very much alone.
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