Subject:  The Way It Ought To Be Part 1 / ? |
Author:
Sonya
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Date Posted: 19:09:36 03/13/01 Tue
The Way It Ought To Be
Part 1 / ?
By Sonya
March 7, 2001
Standard disclaimers, the characters aren't my property and are being used without permission. For entertainment purposes only.
Chapter 1
Walter peeked over Nikita's shoulder. She had obviously been working all night, and for God knows how long before that. "Good morning, sunshine. Wanna go grab some breakfast?"
Startled out of her reverie, Nikita replied, "Oh no, it's not really morning, is it?" Rubbing her eyes, she added, "Walter, what day is it?"
Walter responded with a knowing smirk, "Sunday. Once upon a time, it used to be a day of rest. Maybe we're far enough underground that God hasn't noticed us yet. Then again, I don't think too many of us are in his good books anyway."
Nikita shook her head and smiled. "Walter, you're in everyone's good book. Except maybe for a few of your old girlfriends."
Smirking, Walter replied, "Ain't that the truth? Now, how about that breakfast? Christophe makes a killer bacon and scrambled egg sandwich."
"I'll have to pass, Walter. I've been up for 30 hours and I need to get some sleep. Check back with me in four hours and I'll take you up on it."
Nikita returned to her quarters in Section. Looking at the stark walls, she remembered her apartment fondly. One of the many downsides to being level six was the necessity of remaining on call at all times. Her apartment had been turned over to Jasmine, since she would no longer be able to use it. From the initial reports, prior to the termination of surveillance on the apartment, Jasmine had already brought color back to the stark white walls that Nikita had painted during her Gelman state.
Climbing onto the utilitarian slab that Section deemed a bed, her mind turned to Mr. Jones. Thoughts of the first day Mick Schtoppel had 'revealed' himself as the head of Centre made the corners of Nikita's mouth turn up in a rueful smile. In retrospect, she couldn't believe that Mick actually managed to convince her of his 'genuine' identity. Now that Martin had disappeared, Nikita regretted she had never gotten to know the true man behind Mick's smarmy exterior.
Her brief reverie over, Nikita's thoughts turned to the real Mr. Jones. Flavius. Her father. The truth she had sought for so long was completely unexpected. She had considered the possibility that she could be Operations' daughter many times and rejected it an equal number of times. She also considered that the coincidence of her name and age with that of Helen Wick's true daughter was a little too large for comfort. Was it possible that Helen was indeed her mother? That Roberta had adopted her as an infant? She had dug into Section's files but had been unable to determine the truth. Helen's DNA was locked in an inaccessible archive, unavailable to Nikita even at her new security level.
Regardless of the truth surrounding her mother, Mr. Jones was now revealed as the driving force behind her recruitment. Nikita remembered the difficult years of her childhood as Roberta dragged her along from boyfriend to boyfriend, dirty flat to dirty flat, culminating in her final move to the streets.
Surely, any father worth the name would have spared his own daughter from such an existence. Surely, any father with the resources of Mr. Jones could have arranged a proper upbringing, a proper education and a proper home for her. Surely, the head of Centre could have prevented multiple cancellation orders from being executed against his own daughter.
Surely, therefore, Mr. Jones was not her father. And if he was, she really didn't give a rat's ass.
She owed him exactly what he had given her, nothing.
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