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Date Posted: 23:34:23 02/07/09 Sat
Author: Odelle
Author Host/IP: CPE0013f7f24246-CM0013f7f24242.cpe.net.cable.rogers.com / 99.234.121.213
Subject: When A Time Comes (Chapter 17)
In reply to: Odelle 's message, "When A Time Comes" on 13:16:05 01/08/09 Thu


“Birch?”

“Mahogany. Definitely Mahogany.”

Michael turned a quizzical eye on her. Nikita never ventured into the dark woods; her apartment was always all light and airy.

She grinned at him and shrugged, “They’ve grown on me?” He chuckled softly at her and turned back to the tall, sturdy bookcase they were assessing.

They had walked out of the little café a few hours ago, and wandered down the next street absently; enjoying the beauty of the morning. A ways down the road, a small bookshop across the street caught both their eye. They had gone inside and each become immersed in old second-hand texts. Fingers dancing over spines, dust tickling them both, they had devoured the shop methodically and fully. Michael had reluctantly left sometime later with thirty-one novels, four volumes, and a full encyclopaedia set. Nikita had set her little novel on top of his armload, taken up a stack for him along with the happy storekeeper, and led them all to her convoy for storage.

Purchases secure, and a safe distance from the eyes of her entourage, Nikita had turned to him and laughed. Head-back laughed at him. Eyes alight, she then reminded him that he had exactly zero furniture at home – no place to put the multitude of new literature.

Michael was just happy that she was laughing. He grinned shyly at her and suggested a famous furniture retailer one block over. She had agreed and so they now stood surveying the full-storey solid wood array of bookcases offered.

“You should get that ladder, too,” she suggested and gestured to a matching wood ladder on castors.

Obediently, Michael walked over to it, put a hand on a rung, and swung up. The wheels on the top of the bookcase slid with the intentional flick of his weight to bring him all the way across the wall. He leaped off as it rolled to the end, but the empty bookcase wasn’t heavy enough and the unit shook noisily.

A nearby clerk in the prestigious store uniform looked up at them and glared.

Nikita’s eyes widened at Michael as she tried in vain to keep her laughter in. He returned to her side with a devilish grin whispering across his lips. They both turned again to the sample of wood, and he nodded. “I’ll take ten.” His eyes met hers as they both turned to go to the clerk, “And the ladder.”

She couldn’t help herself. Michael making an attempt at humour was far more hilarious than she could bear. When they left some time later, she was sure that only Michael – and his chequebook – would ever be welcomed back again.

Out on the sidewalk, they stood in the late morning sunshine staring across at a large linen retailer.

Nikita looked up at him and he knew what was going through her mind. More trouble. “200 or 500 thread count?”

“Making your security work overtime?”

“They’re out of practice.”

He watched her profile, “Don’t go out much?” They reached the heavy glass doors and entered when an operative nodded clearance and allowed them inside.

“Mm,” she sighed, “No reason to, I guess.”

He blinked and watched her walk into a row of shelves housing an outrageous selection of sheetsets. Were he alone, Michael would have grabbed the first he saw and left. Nikita’s careful inspection of each sample left him plenty of time to think.

He couldn’t deny that the name Guillaume sat in his chest like a weight. So many questions swirled in his mind. Yet when he looked at Nikita, when he saw the ease settle into her shoulders with each passing store – he knew that he held a very different place than this other man. She was becoming increasingly more herself. The ghosts of the morning were gone, and the peace that he had seen their first night was returning to her eyes.

He knew very little about this man, from their conversation. Nikita had said that this man kept her from hurting herself, or others, in the violence of her nightmares. She had also said that she had never had a night without terrors, and so Michael assumed that this man did not keep those at bay. She had said that he wasn’t enough – at least last night, Michael assumed, this other man wasn’t enough. She had needed Michael, instead. Michael, she said, had made her feel safe – finally safe. While pride welled in him at the thought, he also knew that there was now some one else. An unknown.

He needed more information.

“Can you do grey?” she was asking him, three aisles later. Clearly she had settled on some fabric and threadcount. “Instead of black, can you possibly branch out and do silver or grey?”

He nodded softly with a playful grin, “Yes, Nikita.”

She swatted him, and dropped three of the chosen packages into his arms. “Don’t be difficult.”

The devil returned to his lips.

She ignored him and crossed the hallway to start on the next item.

************

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