| Subject: Chapter 259 - Part 2 (16 and above) (end of chapter 259) |
Author:
KatherineG.
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Date Posted: Wednesday, October 25, 07:23:23am
In reply to:
KatherineG.
's message, "Dreams in the Dark (258>?) continued" on Monday, October 23, 07:10:30am
There was no recrimination in her benefactor, her eyes calmly assessing the note, before looking back up to her charge. The girl was better off knowing that such men were not to be trifled with, in understanding that the further she could stay away from them, the better off she was; she moved her plans on, instead. "Mr. Fredericks has a fiancée, a girl named Annie Kessler." She waited for a second to see whether Nikita seemed to recognize the name, before moving on. "I know that you have a woman who comes in a few times a week to clean now." She also, generally, cooked some easy-to-heat-up meals; they just weren't quite keeping up with Nikita's growing appetite. "Annie's capable of the same sort of work." Her gaze was steady. "The two of them together can look after you."
There were at least three, separate thoughts moving through Nikita's mind at that second; she only spoke the first one. "Kessler?" The name was familiar, brought back something; her head shook, trying to remember. "Where have I . . .?"
It took her a second, but her head did shoot up eventually, her eyes wide. "He was that murderer, one of the ones Jamie Jones got caught!" She had heard enough of the details of the scandal Jones' son had gotten his sort of business caught in last year to remember him. She was just thankful--for only one of many thousand reasons--that no one in the larger world knew that Jamie was her half-brother. God only knew what other sort of retribution she might face, if it ever got out.
Adrian nodded calmly, having expected this. Kessler had been one of Murrin's men, a less scrupulous one than many--much like Hillinger, in many ways. His arrest was one of the highest ones the sweep that Jamie had predicated had caught--but it had also been where things had stopped. None of the other gunmen who were arrested had been able to say a word after Kessler had gotten through with them. Prison, it seemed, had only been the beginning of his work.
The man was still being held, then, had been moved about a year ago over to Alcatraz. He was simply considered too dangerous to be held anywhere else.
None of these facts undermined the woman's points, however, her look still calm. "He was a monster, Nikita. His daughter isn't." The look settled in. "No more than you are."
Christ. The desperate woman's eyes closed, wondering where any of this might go--suspecting that she had already given in. Even Michael had been begging her to; her look returned. But Michael couldn't possibly know about . . .
She was about to say it, when Adrian interrupted her, her look still level. "I didn't tell him all the details, no. But Michael trusts my judgment, as I trust his. I've met--I've known--both Annie and Carl. They, like you, are not their parents. They'll look after you." Her gaze moved in, far more maternal, for once. "Is there anything more important than that now?"
Lord. She supposed not, not with her child on the way; her gaze moved off, still unsettled. But heaven only knew where any of this might lead.
"Can I meet them at least?" She might as well get it over with.
Adrian nodded, not having told her everything--yet again--but always with her granddaughter's health at heart. She picked up the note, wrapping her shawl around her again. "They'll be here tomorrow, before we go to the studio." She smiled. "I'll have them with you by tomorrow night."
Great--that would make her feel better. Nikita rolled her eyes--before her mind refocused, gaze returning to the woman. "But they're only engaged. Won't that make people talk?" It wasn't like she really cared--especially not with her past--but if half of the point of this, as she suspected, was about getting her back home to keep people from gossiping, this seemed a little counterproductive.
Her benefactor understood, simply nodded. "The world will think they're married. They'll have all the paperwork they need."
Amazed eyes settled on her. "You're going to fake it?"
The older actress shrugged, nearly dislodging the shawl. "Faked paperwork is the very foundation of Hollywood. They wouldn't be traditional without it."
This, at last, brought out a laugh from her granddaughter, finally giving in. It wasn't like there was really any other way. Still, the look faded, her mind moving back--to a memory she truly wished she didn't have. "There's no way my father could blackmail them, is there?" After all, with faked paperwork and parents like that . . .
This would normally be a concern, but it only brought out a shrug this time. "They're both under Mr. Murrin's protection." Her head shook. "Jones won't bother them. He'd risk a war."
Deep blue eyes found hers. "And he isn't ready for one?" From what she had seen of him, he probably lived for it.
There was another shake of the head, undermining her fears. "There's no need. Not when he's getting what he wants, anyway." Nikita looked worried, making her more specific. "You and Michael separated."
Mm, maybe. The blonde woman's head dropped, wondering. "But if he did . . ."
"Nikita." The name brought her back, the gaze intense. "If I had any doubts, I wouldn't have chosen them." She let that truth sink in for a moment, their look holding, before she moved on--her face softer now. "I don't wish to see you hurt."
The younger actress could see this, the truth now clear in her grandmother's eyes; she sighed, looking away, forgetting sometimes, lately. Adrian filled in the silence for her. "Are you still angry for my part in this?" It was clear she didn't just mean the hiring of a bodyguard.
There was another long sigh, but most of the recriminations had gone. She had already decided to name her child after the woman. That had to be some sort of sign that her days of anger were past.
Still, she was quiet for a moment, her gaze on the floor. "I understand," she said at last. "And I appreciate the protection." Her look moved up, the sadness intense. "I think I just miss my grandmother." Grandma, the great and callous tactician was not an image which usually came to mind with the term.
Adrian only smiled, understanding--missing the closeness they had shared during the girl's early days in this country. Still, this was what her grandchild needed more now, someone who could plan and protect. The simple comfort of touch couldn't heal everything.
She felt no real hurt for this, then, knew that they loved each other--even if, in some ways, their relationship had grown much more distant. Besides, she knew what the girl really needed. "I think it's Michael you really miss." She saw the child close her eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry that I couldn't think of any other way to save you both."
"No," Nikita sighed, standing up--walking toward her; all her appetite had been forgotten long ago. "I understand." Her look went deep--far deeper than it had with the woman for sometime. "I just miss him."
Adrian took her hand, her look so understanding. "I know."
They just stayed there for a moment--the granddaughter's young, unlined hand in her grandmother's old and veined one. Still, Nikita needed more, needed the comfort these long weeks without her husband had denied her. After a minute, she sank down to her knees, placing her head in her grandmother's lap, just wanting to be understood; Adrian found herself sighing almost happily, despite the girl's sadness, her fingers stroking softly through her bright hair. She was at least glad that she could give the child some sort of comfort now.
Still, this wasn't really enough, the truths ringing through the matriarch. It wasn't fair that all the women in this family had to give birth alone. It wasn't fair that so many of them were taken from the men they loved. It wasn't fair that her grandchild, as well, knew such heartache. But a smile did emerge, seeing the differences. Nikita, at least, was married to the man she loved, to the father of her child; the loving look deepened. That alone would hopefully ensure the happiness all the rest of them had craved.
Extra notes: About these reused LFN characters--Kessler and Annie are from the episode "Gambit"; Fredericks was the operative who was left to try to explain what had happened, when Michael and Nikita supposedly defected in "Beyond the Pale."
One more note about Adrian's butler--I think it's possible that I've messed up and sometimes called him "James," instead of "Steven." Sorry. I’m an idiot. One of the many problems of writing a story for *years*--and posting as it's still being written--is that continuity errors sometimes creep their way in. It's not the only one--but please do me a favor and don't go looking for the rest. %) I do apologize heartily for them.
[End of Part 259]
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