| Subject: WTTS - 83e |
Author:
KT
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Date Posted: 22:22:11 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 - Part 83e
By KT
Copyright January 1, 2001
After Jamie dropped Nikita off at Michael's he sped to Roberta's. The snow was coming down harder every minute. He burst in unannounced and was met by Sabine's call from the kitchen.
"Nikita, is that you?"
"No. Hello, Sabine."
At the sound of his voice, Sabine came out of the kitchen, knife in hand. A glowering scowl overtook her face when she didn't see Nikita. Jamie sniffed the wonderful smells wafting his way, and grinned at her innocently. Roberta was lying on the couch watching the evening news. She waved at Jamie in greeting, as she did each day when he brought Nikita home.
"Hi, Jamie. Good to see you." She noticed that he was thoroughly covered with snow flakes. "All that snow fell on you between your car and my front door?"
"It's unbelievable," he nodded. "It was just a flurry when I picked up Nikita."
Sabine's suspicions were aroused. "Speaking of Nikita, where is our daughter anyway?"
Jamie looked from Sabine to Roberta. "She, uh, she won't be home for dinner tonight." He knew he should have called earlier, but he hadn't wanted to answer any questions. "Actually, she and Michael are dining together. At his place."
As he watched, a satisfied smile slowly spread itself over Roberta's face.
"Oh, thank heaven. How ever did you manage that?" She glanced at Sabine with a triumphant look on her face.
"Yes," Sabine rejoined dryly, "do tell us how."
"Well, I was just, you know, following orders. I was merely the mode of transportation." He was clearly pleased with himself.
Sabine was remonstrative. "You stole her away??"
"Well, not really. I delivered her to her destination." Jamie was having fun now.
Sabine tried to remain serious, but Jamie's capricious attitude got the better of her. "I see." She shrugged and gave up with a smile of her own. "Well, you may as well have dinner with us, now that you're here. Will you be picking her up later?"
"I certainly hope not." Jamie returned her smile as he moved forward to hug her. "Michael said he would call if they needed me. I'm laying money that they won't."
Sabine rolled her eyes. "You're hopeless, Jamie Alexander."
"Why thank you, Madame de Lac. And I don't mind your cooking either." He ducked as she lashed out with her dish towel in a mock attack, then went back into the kitchen.
"Yes, but he's my kind of hopeless. Here, Jamie, help me up, will you please?" Roberta reached her hand out for assistance, her eyes twinkling approval of his actions. "Thank you."
By the time supper was over, the snowstorm had become a full-on blizzard. Jamie shoveled the walkway out to his car, but the snow was so deep that it took quite a while. As soon as he finished, he turned around and started over. His car was buried. He shook his head as he shoveled again, and then a third time.
The snow was blowing sideways as the wind raged wildly. The street was quiet. Traffic had effectively come to a halt. He couldn't even see the houses on the other side of the street. Jamie sighed as he went back into the house.
"Sabine, do you mind if I spend the night? I think I'd rather dig my car out in the morning."
Roberta was already asleep, and Sabine, who had been reading in the quiet of the evening, as was her custom, nodded. "Of course, Jamie, you can sleep on the couch." She rose and fetched him some blankets and a pillow. "I can sleep in Nikita's room. It doesn't look like you will need to bring her home after all."
"Thanks." He made up the bed as Sabine shuffled off. Jamie lay awake for a while, listening to the sounds of the storm, pondering the strange and convoluted path of true love.
* * * * * * * *
Michael hovered somewhere between waking and sleeping. The presence of Nikita in his bed prevented him from falling into a deep sleep. Every now and then, his eyes would open and he would watch her for awhile, wrapped in the simple joy of having her so close. He finally came completely awake as the fierce sound of the wind escalated. Michael rose and silently moved to the window, amazed by the extraordinary fury of the freak storm. The snow was swirling violently... a total whiteout. He looked down, but could not see the street below. He glanced at the clock. It wasn't even midnight yet.
As he went for his bathrobe, he heard Nikita make a low moaning sound. He walked quietly back toward the bed just as she let out a tense "Noooo..." She was still asleep, and he knew that she was deep in her nightmare. "Michael!" Her alarmed pronouncement of his name startled him and as he watched, Nikita's arms twitched and her torso began to twist. Her head rolled from side to side, her expression pained. She managed to turn sideways, and he knelt on the bed in an effort to prevent her from rolling off the edge. Nikita's arms reached out and she let out a muffled scream.
Michael quickly lay next to her, gathering her to him and holding her fast. She was breathing forcefully. He held her tighter, attempting to keep her flailing arms from hitting him in the face, then stopped, stunned, as her right knee suddenly jerked up, barely missing his groin. He let go of her, sliding off the bed as her other leg repeated the movement. Her body curled into a ball as her knees tucked toward her waist. Nikita's movements were awkward and uncoordinated, but there was no doubt about it - her legs had moved!
Michael stared in awe, breathing a prayer that he was not hallucinating, then knelt beside the bed as he watched her struggle. At last Nikita's arms stopped moving, and her body relaxed as her breathing slowed. He placed a hand on her forehead, stroking her hair back, smoothing her brow with his thumb, and leaned forward until his lips touched her ear.
"Shhh," he quieted her, "shhh..."
Nikita became perfectly still, her breathing deepening. Michael gently grasped her ankles and returned her legs to a prone position. He carefully stretched out next to her, not wanting to wake her, and surrounded her in a light embrace. As he held her, he felt close to weeping.
The dream that had preyed so dreadfully on her mind, that had robbed her of her sleep for nights on end, that had terrified her and pushed her over the edge, had singularly become the instrument of her healing.
Michael's mind traveled back to the little chapel at the hospital, and the silent affirmation he had offered there as he'd prayed for Nikita's life to be spared. And it was. He had been thankful, but had let his appreciation slip away in the wake of Nikita's and his own anger and frustration. And what had he done? Let anger get the better of him... cut her loose when she needed him more than ever... allowed her to push him away... thought he could go back to the way he was before they met...
But he couldn't. They were like Siamese twins who shared the same heart... the life of one gave life to the other.
"Stay with me, Nikita," he whispered against her unheeding ear, "because I can't live without you."
* * * * * * * *
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