| Subject: WTTS2 - 83d (warning: suggestive) |
Author:
KT
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Date Posted: 22:20:20 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 83d (Warning: Suggestive)
By KT
Copyright December 25, 2000
The kiss was tender, lingering, heady, Michael keeping control as he savored the nearness of her, drawing in her scent. It was nearly beyond his endurance to have her so close and not be able to take them into the deep intimacy that he knew lay trapped between them. He drew back and looked at Nikita's shuttered eyes. His thumbs brushed her tears aside, and he stood up as her eyes opened. They stared for a moment, then Michael turned slowly and disappeared into the kitchen. Nikita sat battling with her emotions as she watched him return with several covered dishes.
"I hope you're hungry," he said easily.
A minute smile tugged at the corners of her mouth in spite of her distress. "Smells delicious." She sniffed her tears back as she heard her stomach rumble.
The sound caused Michael to purse his lips in a tiny smirk. Well, at least some things hadn't changed. He exited to the kitchen once again, and returned with a steaming pot of soup. He ladled it into bowls and placed them side by side at the table. His shoulder brushed hers as he sat. He heard Nikita catch her breath as he privately delighted in the warmth of her next to him.
He served the food and they ate slowly, in a silence that soothed them both. The meal was simple - tamarind soup, stir-fried vegetables that touted exotic flavors, and a spicy noodle dish with shrimp and fresh ginger. She quietly exclaimed her approval and her thanks, but conversation remained sparse. The music mutated from harp to classical piano, the Preludes of Debussy. At the sound, they turned to each other and spoke at the same time.
"Nikita..."
"Michael..."
He focused on her confused expression. "We need to talk."
She looked at him, keeping silent as her fear and longing raged against each other. After a moment she found her voice. "Is that why you kidnapped me?" she queried unsteadily, exposing her repressed indignation.
"I thought that maybe enough time had passed."
"Maybe too much time has passed, Michael."
Michael's heart took a quick turn when he heard the undercurrent of her anger, but he held onto his resolve. He had waited long enough. He reached for the champagne bottle and poured them each another glass. He handed hers to her, then held his up, his eyes so full of love that Nikita's heart practically stopped. She held up her glass in return as his simple words disarmed her completely.
"I hope not."
A shiver passed through her as Nikita realized that Michael was not going to back down. She sighed a very deep sigh, wondering if she would have the courage to talk this out.
Michael set down his glass as he continued, his eyes averted, weighing his words carefully. "Because these last two weeks have been... difficult."
Nikita took a deep breath. "You gave me what I asked for." She found herself wondering if she should thank him or not. So far, only one good thing had come of it.
He looked at her once again, watching her closely. Michael's heart felt suspended in his chest. What if she had come to the conclusion that she could do without him? After all, he had pushed her hard to stand on her own. But only after she had pushed him hard to give her space.
"And...?" He took the plunge. "Something happened between you and Gray."
Nikita's eyes dropped as a slow blush overtook her face. Michael trembled inwardly as he awaited enlightenment. He knew that Gray was an attractive and intelligent man, and an articulate musician. His worst fears began to take shape as his mind plundered the possibilities.
"Yes. He... he said our dinner out would not be a date. It was good for me. I was feeling very insecure about going out. He took me to his home and I met his daughter. It was a lovely evening, really. But then he... Gray asked me if we could see each other. Romantically."
Michael maintained a calm exterior, even as he felt his heart compress in his breast. "And...?"
"And I thought that somehow he might be good for me. You know, since we shared the same... problems. But Michael..." Nikita looked away. Time for truth. "When he kissed me, it was like... I didn't want to hurt him, so... I tried to let myself feel something for him." Her eyes returned to his. "And I couldn't."
Michael's stomach tightened with anger as he thought of Gray kissing Nikita. His voice dropped to a whisper. "Because...?"
She found herself whispering back. "Because..."
Nikita was sinking into Michael's eyes, eyes that were suddenly hard and glittering with accusation. She lost her train of thought. Michael leaned closer, his breathing tightening, his brows furrowed in a solemn expression as he let his rising pain flow out of him and into her. She couldn't bear another second of it. She gave him all of her misgivings, all of her doubts, in a single haunted glance. Her words came out slowly.
"... because I couldn't betray you. Even if you didn't want me anymore, after what I'd said and done. Even after you turned me over to Gray."
Michael's face was so close to hers now, that it filled her entire field of vision.
"You thought I abandoned you."
"Yes, but now I realize..."
Michael cut her off, his eyes now searching hers.
"Oh, but I did, my Nikita. I did abandon you." Jamie's reprimand was still fresh in his mind. "I didn't want you to be trapped in self-pity. And I didn't want you to think that I loved you out of pity. If you only knew how I've felt since the shooting. I can hardly bear to think that if we had never met, you would not be in this situation."
Nikita reached her hand up and laid her palm against Michael's cheek. "I wasn't thinking clearly." She cringed inside as she thought of how her past had risen to nearly destroy all the good things that had happened between them. "But Jamie made me understand. You were only doing the right thing... the thing you were obligated to do, as part of your job. You were only thinking of helping me. And you did help me. You made me reconnect with myself... I had lost faith in my own strength."
"You are stronger than you think."
Nikita shook her head, fighting the tears threatening to gather and fall once more. "But not strong enough to..." She stopped, summoning her courage to speak the thing she had learned. "Michael, you could live without me a lot better than I could live without you."
He shook his head slowly. "No." He paused, his eyes filled with a soft light as they swept over her face. "That may have been true before, but not any more." Michael was whispering again. "Never again."
He kissed her fully, lushly. "Nothing can come between us." He kissed her again, harder. "We are forever now." The words pressed against her mouth, his arms slipping beneath her, her arms snaking around his neck as he lifted her from the chair and moved toward the bedroom. Michael could think only of having her skin against his. The craving was overpowering.
Nikita let herself melt into his embrace. This was where she wanted to be. This was what she wanted to feel. How could she have thought that she could live without him? She kissed him back with all the passion in her, her eyes closing as she luxuriated in the sensation of being surrounded by Michael. There was no one like him. There never would be.
He met her passion head-on as his heart gave up all caution. Michael placed her on his bed and slowly freed them both of their material barriers. As their clothes disappeared, Michael drew his fingertips over Nikita's body with a feathery touch. So good... it was so good to feel her beneath his hands once again. Two weeks without her seemed like two light years. He stretched out above her, then lowered himself, sighing as the full length of her bare skin singed and tantalized every inch of his.
Nikita wrapped her arms around Michael as he covered her with his warmth. Joy flowed freely as the feel of him against her, so strange and so familiar, so loved and so missed, lifted her out of herself. She gave in to this man who was hers and hers alone. A gift she had almost thrown away. She promised herself never to take it for granted. Ever.
Her mouth opened beneath his as a kiss bridged the rift between waking and dreaming. They drifted on the river of oblivion, conscious only of each other, sharing deep slow kisses and soft words of reparation and love, until sleep spread her mantle of peace over them.
* * * * * * * *
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