| Subject: Chapter 20 |
Author:
Rita
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Date Posted: Sunday, May 03, 12:02:48am
In reply to:
Rita
's message, "TMTC" on Tuesday, July 24, 12:04:39pm
Chapter Twenty
********
Walking into his quarters with his usual stealth, Michael found Nikita still asleep. Recalling the tired lines he’d noticed across her face earlier, he was loathe to wake her, wanting her to get as much rest as possible.
Although a light sleeper, out of necessity rather than inclination, Nikita’s slumber was nevertheless undisturbed by Michael’s arrival, a testament to how safe she felt around him.
Taking the opportunity presented, Michael watched her sleep for a few moments, steeling himself against the long road ahead. Knowing they had precious little time to waste, he sighed inaudibly and proceeded to rouse Nikita, albeit gently.
“Ni-ki-ta,” Michael’s accent caressed her senses even as his fingers gently stroked her face.
“Hi,” Nikita’s eyes opened slowly as she luxuriated in the sensations his feather light touch created. “Three hours up already?”
“Yes,” His regret was audible. “We should talk.”
Sensing the chance to take advantage of an opening, Nikita extended an invitation, “Perhaps we can discuss strategy…here.”
“I don’t think so,” The earlier warmth that colored his voice was gone, his shields slammed into place. “There’s much to be done.”
Hurt flared briefly in her gaze before composure returned, “Of course.” She quickly alighted from his bed and started discussing matters at hand. “I’ve already secured you new quarters.” She called over her shoulder as she straightened her clothes in front of the mirror.
“Where?” Michael asked, suspecting he knew already the answer.
“The Tower.” She quickly elaborated, “I had it extended then divided. Completely separate, even the entrances.”
“That’s not a good idea,” Michael turned her down gently but firmly.
“Why?”
“You’re still Operations.” He paused before adding, “It would not look good.”
“No, I suppose it wouldn’t,” Nikita conceded after a few moments deliberation. She knew he was right, but she couldn’t completely keep the hurt out of her voice. She turned back to him after another minute, all business, the hurt replaced by determination. “Perhaps Madeline’s old quarters? They’ve been renovated and Quinn decided to keep her own.”
“That would be fine,” Michael was relieved she hadn’t argued any further.
********
Somewhere in Center, a smile lit the features of the traitor watching the hidden surveillance feed from Michael’s old quarters. Could it be? A crack in the supposedly solid foundation of the partnership? Maybe Michael wasn’t as content in his new role as he appeared?
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