| Subject: The Ubiquitous Mr. Lovegrove61 |
Author:
Schnee
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Date Posted: 17:08:19 03/04/01 Sun
In reply to:
Schnee
's message, "The Ubiquitous Mr. Lovegrove" on 14:10:08 03/03/01 Sat
Reading the road signs, I see that we are approaching Marseilles. A conversation aboard La Luna begins to replay in my mind. I recall when Michael suggested that perhaps he’d bring me to his childhood home. One day when I was free to be his.
Excitement builds within me as I begin to see the port city in the distance with the deep blue Mediterranean alongside it. As breathtaking as I find the view, my thoughts are littered with questions about Michael and his life previous to Section.
I’ve only seen hints of that life. Pieces that Michael allowed me to see. While struggling with his guilt and uncertainty surrounding Section’s capture of Rene Dian, Michael came to my apartment and confided in me. Both his arrival and his openness stunned me, since his attitude toward me had been cold and distant after bringing me back into Section. Also, after giving Rene’s location and identity to Birkoff, I would not have expected Michael to trust me with such personal information.
But he in fact trusted me enough to speak of his sister whom Michael cared for after his parents’ death. And how Rene took care of her when Michael was taken to prison. Another operative may have used such information against him. In retrospect, I realize that Michael came to my apartment that night as a kind of good-bye, so that I could understand the real man behind the operative façade. A man to whom honor and family came before duty to Section. A man who was ready to embrace death at the hands of his friend for his betrayal. However, I prevented that fate with a single bullet as I was not ready to lose my mentor, friend, and lover.
Will Michael reveal more of his past to me?
I’d like to know more about the life that molded Michael’s ethics and values. I’d like to know what his hopes and dreams were. And I’d like to know what they are now.
Toying with the hem of my shirt, I find myself lifting it and examining my flat stomach. Imagining what it will look like in a few short months. Round and protruding. As I look up, I catch Michael’s glance and smile.
“It’s not any bigger than yesterday.” Michael quips, teasing me.
“I know.” I reply indignantly. “I was just thinking. Wondering what I’ll look like soon. And come March when I’m nine months pregnant.”
After a pause I blurt out, “ March 20th. I’m due March 20th.”
I can’t explain why this seems so surreal to me--why I feel so uncomfortable speaking about it. Will it ever feel...right?
As if sensing my discomfort, Michael reaches over, softly caressing my cheek with his hand. Taking his rough hand into mine, I press my lips to his smooth palm giving him a gentle kiss. Feeling choked by my emotions, words seem inadequate to express my feelings for him. I can only hope he understands my simple gestures.
Soon his attention returns to driving as we begin to reach the city limits and are surrounded by a sea of cars.
Welcome home, Michael.
~~~~~
May edit this more...still feels awkward as my muse is not being very cooperative. :(
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