| Subject: WTTS2 - 80 (a bit suggestive) |
Author:
KT
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Date Posted: 21:58:54 01/11/02 Fri
In reply to:
KT
's message, "Window to the Soul 2 - More (splitting the thread *as requested by Sanlin*)" on 21:52:29 01/11/02 Fri
Window to the Soul 2 - Part 80 (a bit suggestive)
By KT
Copyright October 20, 2000
Marcus O'Brien sat fidgeting in the courtroom. Cossins nudged him in the ribs with his elbow.
"Marcus!" he whispered sharply, "stop twitching! You're drivin' me nuts!"
O'Brien gave him a helpless look and shrugged. "Sorry. I just want to get this over with and get out of here. I hate courtrooms."
"Oh sure," Patrick agreed, "just a necessary evil, hmmm? You wanna nail this thing, don't you?"
"Of course."
"Well then..." Cossins glanced across the room.
Gerald Price and Egran Petrosian were already in place, and they all rose as the judge entered and took her place. Price's eyebrows went up. The Honorable Petra Disalvo. A judge with strong ties to the mafia. His eyes narrowed. They might just have a chance after all. Price itched to get this case under way, if for no other reason than to read the transcript of Karen Kent's confession to the police. His curiosity was also quite piqued about the evidence the D.A.'s office was holding. He was still ticked at O'Brien for being so tight-lipped.
Price had been approached by Vlad Chernov to take his case, but had declined. He had his hands full with his other cases. It was just too risky, with Petrosian and Chernov so closely linked. He couldn't take a chance on representing him as well. Besides, he still retained the power to choose what limbs he went out on and for who.
The proceedings went smoothly, with Petrosian entering a plea of not guilty, as expected. The trial date was set at 30 days from arraignment and O'Brien was stunned to find that Petrosian, in spite of the State's request that bail be refused, was to be released on bond of $20,000 in the custody of his lawyer. His gut rebelled as he perceived a triumphant look on Price's face.
Court was recessed, and O'Brien watched as Petrosian and Price filed out to the judge's chambers to complete the paperwork. Cossins took off after offering Marcus a consoling look and a pat on the shoulder. O'Brien turned to find himself looking into the forthright face of District Attorney Lee Gladstone. Gladstone, tall and wiry with distinguished graying temples, always impeccably dressed, extended his hand in greeting. His well-modulated voice expressed firm conviction.
"Don't worry, Detective. There's no way this scumbag will wiggle out of this. Let him have his temporary freedom."
O'Brien was skeptical. "You know his past record. No convictions. None. I have serious doubts. And what about the judge? You know the rumors. Petrosian's mafia connections might be working on her."
"What, on Disalvo?" Gladstone gave a sharp laugh. "In all my years in the courts, I've never known her to deliver an unfair decision. It's her mafia connections that make her the most knowledgable judge in the courts. Just between you and me, I think she does nothing to discourage the rumors just to keep the lawyers guessing. Let's hang on to our hats here. Don't lose any sleep over this."
O'Brien changed the subject. "And what about Vlad Chernov?" He couldn't keep a note of sarcasm out of his voice. "Will he be released on bail as well?"
"Funny you should ask. This is something I think will do your high moral fiber a world of good. Did you know that Chernov is not a U.S. citizen?" Gladstone gave O'Brien a very wide smile.
"Really." How could I have missed that? he mused, as he realized that neither he nor Patrick had even bothered to check. A slow grin spread over his face as he realized the implications of Lee's information. "So..."
Gladstone nodded. "That's right. I've contacted Interpol. He's being extradited immediately. They can hardly wait to get their mitts on him. He'll be deported by the end of the week."
O'Brien exhaled audibly. This was even better than he'd hoped for. Sometimes the wheels of justice did turn in the right direction after all. He made a mental note to notify Michael Samuelle about this turn of events.
"Thanks, Lee. Gives me a warm fuzzy to know we won't be spending our hard-earned tax dollars keeping that creep incarcerated for years. You're the trooper from hell." They shook hands again.
"Why thank you, Detective. We lawyers just live for compliments from you men in the trenches." He departed with a smile.
* * * * * * * *
Nikita motored down the hallway toward Michael's office. It had been quite an eventful morning. Sabine had dropped her off at the hospital, and her exam with Dr. Spence had gone well. He informed her that he found her to be in excellent condition due to her diligent compliance with the therapy, and was very optimistic about her progress in general. He never mentioned her reported depression, but merely repeated his prognosis and urged her to return to her work while continuing her theraputic routine. She carried her written release in her music valise.
The next surprise had been Jamie showing up to take her to work. Apparently, his current assignment was over. Sabine had pulled some strings, and it was now his daily duty to drive her to work and pick her up. He had brought with him her new wheelchair, which had two large batteries that powered a small motor to act as an assist or be used to help move the chair up inclined surfaces.
Nikita's already excellent upper body strength had increased since she had been non-ambulatory, but it was still hard for her to go up ramps, so this was a great improvement. She had expressed her gratitude to Jamie, but he shook his head, informing her that it was Sabine who had done it all. As she passed the door to Madeleine's office, she slowed down and peeked in. Akiko waved at her with a cheery smile.
"Welcome back, Nikita."
"Thanks." She pulled out the doctor's release. "I think Madeleine needs this paperwork for the insurance records."
Akiko stepped from behind the desk to accept the form. "I'll see that she gets it. You look great, by the way."
Nikita smiled, then took a deep breath as she continued down the hall, then knocked quietly on Michael's door. Now. The moment had arrived.
"Come in."
Michael waited as Nikita negotiated the doorway. He rose and closed the door, shutting the blinds to give them some privacy. He caught his breath as she turned to face him. She looked beautiful. Her hair had grown enough to lay in wispy layers around her face, and her slender black pants and white silk sweater gave her a dressy look. The glow in her face signified to him the subtle progress of her healing, so slow that she herself hardly noticed. He wanted to take her in his arms. But this was neither the time nor the place. He summoned his resolve.
Michael sat at his desk, dropping immediately into mentor mode. His expression remained neutral, but there was a softness in his voice. "So, everything went well at the hospital?" Nikita could hear the genuine concern in his question.
"Yes, it went very well." Their eyes met, and her heart knocked wildly.
"And you're cleared for full status?" Michael kept his gaze trained on hers.
Nikita struggled to keep a rein on her reaction to the assault of his eyes. Her words came forth haltingly. "Well, the doctor did say that I shouldn't push it too hard right away. He said I should rest if I start to feel tired, even if it means having to excuse myself. He seemed to think you would understand. I tried to tell him, you can't just quit in the middle of a rehearsal. But he..."
"Nikita. Don't worry about it. There won't be a problem."
"But... what about the conductor? And the sectionals, and ..."
Michael dropped his gaze as he felt his temperature rising. "I've already spoken to Paul Wolfe. He's aware that there are some concessions to be made. After all, you're not the first musician to have special requirements." He looked up as he brought his reaction under control. "First things first. You'll need to go through re-orientation."
"Will I be doing that with you?"
"No. I've assigned you a new mentor. His name is Gray Wellman. He's the assistant principal French horn player. You'll report to him for the remainder of this week."
A new mentor! Nikita averted her eyes as they glassed over with moisture. He was abandoning her... giving her to someone else! She quickly stopped her tears. She had to get a grip on things here... act like the professional she was expected to be.
"I... see." Her voice held a bit more emotion than she had intended to show.
Michael remained objective. "Nikita, this is standard procedure for all persons who need... disabled services. Gray will be able to help you through all the rough spots in ways that I cannot." His eyes held no pity as he sharpened his focus on her. "This isn't personal. Nikita... Please. It will make things go much easier for you."
She regained her composure and her manners. "Thank you, Michael. I'm sure it will."
Michael sat back. "Good. Rehearsal is at eleven. You'll meet with Gray as soon as we've finished here. He'll bring you in." He felt relieved that this part of their business was over, and that she was beginning to respond positively.
"Are we done?"
"I don't know. Are we?"
Nikita sat silently as Michael rose and moved close to her side. He pulled a chair over and sat next to her, facing opposite her, resting his arm on the arm of her chair. His hand strayed to her lap and his fingertips traced the back of her hand lightly. Nikita's skin prickled at his touch and his fingers played in between hers. Their eyes locked.
"Oh Michael, I..." Nikita felt her hand being lifted, and a moment later, her eyes still imprisoned by Michael's, she watched as his lips pressed softly, warmly against it.
Michael could feel the pulse in her wrist beating stronger as he heard her breathe in. "I told you I missed you. I meant it."
"I'm sorry, Michael. The dreams... I was scared." She looked deep into his eyes. "I still am."
"I know."
Nikita let her words flow before her courage ran out. "The frustration of not knowing if this will all end... and the fear of... how people will treat me... it's terrifying. I took it out on you. You've been so... patient. My behavior was..." She was sinking into Michael's eyes as his hand pulled out of hers, bringing his fingers to rest on her lips, stopping her from speaking.
"Thank you." He had heard enough.
Michael reached down and took her hand in his once again. His face remained solemn as he leaned toward her until her eyes were all he could see. As the tip of his nose brushed hers, he lost his resolve and his eyes fell as her mouth invited him. His placed a hand on either side of her face, then kissed her very slowly.
Nikita let her mouth soften, then open, as the tip of her tongue met the tip of his. She watched as his soul looked briefly into hers, then their eyes closed as they lost themselves to each other. She was drawn in by the undemanding tenderness of the kiss, and her own hands moved gingerly over Michael's shoulders and around his neck as she leaned closer.
A knock on the door startled them both and the kiss broke abruptly. Michael stood up as the door opened and Gray Wellman entered. Gray could feel the electricity in the air as he looked from Michael to the blonde angel sitting in front of him. He smiled and held out his hand.
"You must be Nikita."
* * * * * * * *
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