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Date Posted: 22:47:02 05/20/09 Wed
Author: Odelle
Author Host/IP: CPE0013f7f24246-CM0013f7f24242.cpe.net.cable.rogers.com / 99.234.121.213
Subject: When A Time Comes (Chapter 33)
In reply to: Odelle 's message, "When A Time Comes" on 11:23:04 04/14/09 Tue


Michael was sitting silently, as still as a rock. He was alone in his darkened apartment and had been staring fixedly at the wall since the sun had set.

It had been three days. Three days and three nights, and Michael was close to madness with anxiety. He even – for the first time in his life – snapped at a waitress in a coffee shop this morning. The poor thing was so shocked, she scuttled away wiping tears from her eyes and never made another appearance.

Michael just needed to hear from Nikita – needed to know.

It wasn’t any concern about her ability to handle the aftermath of Guillaume. He knew that she undoubtedly was working powerfully and with effortless skill. By now, she would have personally overseen the entire recomposition of her security staff – immediately removing anyone with the slightest variance in their performance. And she would have single-handedly re-swept the entirety of her home – probably twice, or more. Michael was also sure that, whatever the purpose the Senate held, Nikita would have already managed them all with authority. Regardless of the nature of their stake in the Centre and the Sections, the Senate was undeniably subject to the scrutiny of her pursuit. No, Michael didn’t doubt for a moment that she had everything firmly under control, including her own emotions about the events that had transpired.

But there was something sitting heavily in his chest. Something was wrong – very wrong. He knew it in his core. Nikita was suffering in some way – far beyond the feelings of the drama that had unfolded.

There was an element in him – an element that was fundamental to the consciousness they shared – and it had shifted. It shifted to a tipping point; it balanced on the edge of something dangerous. And he knew with total certainty that she needed him.

But he knew with equal certainty that she didn’t want him to come. He could feel it as clearly as if she put her hand to his chest to halt him from coming to her.

Michael was only just coming to know the woman who had become Centre – and of what he had learned, he knew that she was both powerful and proud. She was the same strong, capable, talented woman she always was, but now with a crown of command and control that she used to keep others at a firm distance. Himself included. It was the fortress she had taken down the night they had first met again, and it was the same fortress she put up once more as they stood before the nightmare littered across her desk.

He felt in utter turmoil. The centre of his being told him that the other half of his soul was crying out to him, and yet...

And yet...

What? Why didn’t he just go to her? He could hardly admit the truth of the answer to himself. He shook his head and stood – determined to move, to change something. He walked to the window and stared out at the darkness. He felt the ink blackness of the picture before him war with the vibrant colour of possibility – a distinctly Nikita characteristic that she had undoubtedly injected in him when he wasn’t looking, many years previous. He sighed and finally allowed himself to admit what he hadn’t allowed himself to think since he had left all those years ago.

He feared the rejection of her status.

Michael was ultimately afraid that there was no room for him within her. Within her world, within the Centre, within the organization that had moved on without him. He was afraid that perhaps he couldn’t even break past her impenetrable defences to see if there was any space for him. He felt totally lost, utterly obsolete, and bone-deep terrified.

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the cool of the brick wall.

And there it was again – the cry from her soul to his. Deep within him something elemental groaned. It shifted and teetered; threatening.

And so he opened his eyes, took up his armour, and decided that this was a battle he couldn’t afford to lose.

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

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