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Date Posted: 17:20:42 05/03/02 Fri
Author: Repost Fairy
Author Host/IP: 64.193.19.25
Subject: Chapter 23 - Part 1
In reply to: KGilbert 's message, "Dreams in the Dark - Chapter 20 and forthcoming" on 17:00:21 05/03/02 Fri

Extra warning: This will be the last part for about a month. The semester is (finally) working toward its close.

Dreams in the Dark (23/?)
by Katherine Gilbert

It had, she thought once again, been one of the odder days of her life. Between doubt and elation, desire and terror, she had already been through some variant of most of the emotions she knew; she let out a shaky breath, amazed by it all. After her talk with Angie, as well, a new plan had formed within her--one she hoped might answer some of her questions; her heart thumped. But it wasn't likely to make the day less overwhelming at all.

Oh, Lord. It was too much--shook her again. Nikita let out another, slightly desperate, breath, trying to gear herself up for what she had in mind--but it wasn't easy. She wasn't even certain that this was actually a good idea--but she was here, nonetheless, could see no other way out. Ever since that amazing talk with the maternal costumer--and the sense-stunning kiss with her co-star which had preceded it--she just couldn't face the thought of going on her arranged date without a little more closure; she laughed just slightly, her mind turning. After all, if Helmut came by to pick her up now, she would probably spend the entire date making small gibbering noises while staring off into space--not a good first impression; the laugh moved deeper, before the terror took hold. She needed to have some idea of what was going on in her life before she could ever hope to move forward again.

God, it was hard--but there was no way around it; the facts flashed before her once more. She had pressed forward with these thoughts in mind--was now hovering around the door to Michael's dressing room--her heart hammering like she was about to face a long plunge off a very high mountain; she wasn't entirely certain that that wasn't what was about to happen. She swallowed heavily. The more she thought about this new plan, the more some part of her screamed out all of the possibilities for catastrophic embarrassment or pain--none of which would make her date to come any easier; she shook slightly, her mind turning. Still, if she didn't do this--if she couldn't have some clear idea of what was happening to her now--she might very well just lose her mind; she let out a deep, calming breath. She really needed to understand, if she had any hope for the future.

This was a nice bit of rationalization, of course, but it wasn't getting her very far at the moment. Part of her reluctance to actually go knock on his door was also rising from the section of her mind which was questioning her real motive in coming here--which didn't buy her excuses at all. True, she didn't think that Michael could get her out of her date with the studio's backer; in fact, he had been the one to get her into it in the first place. She shook that discomfiting thought from her head, as she went on. Still, with those, very powerful, memories of his sensual, soul-stopping kiss . . . well, she couldn't help but wonder if she hadn't just come back for more. A small, too-warm, shudder caught her. Ohh--if only she knew what she really wanted now.

Lord--these thoughts weren't helping, her path growing far less clear. It was this confusion which kept her from going forward, too--even though she wanted to--was this doubt over her own motivations which kept her frozen firmly in place, half-hidden in the shadows, watching her co-star's door as though it alone could answer all her questions; she almost moaned. It didn't help, either, that she knew she only had fifteen minutes or so before her date would begin, had no time to linger--even if the conversation she was about to initiate wasn't one to be had quickly; her heart thumped even more heavily at that thought, the terrors rising again. Ohh--if only she knew what to do . . .

No matter what she would have liked, however, there was no comfort here--was nowhere to turn; this question plagued her, working her soul, for several more minutes, as she tried to decide whether to even attempt to speak to him. There was a very long sigh, as the truth sunk in. Despite all the reasons not to do it, she couldn't quite turn away. This had been the path which had guided her from soon after hearing Angie's revelations--had been her only clear focus. If she didn't have some idea whether her hopes had a possibility of coming true, she wasn't sure she could go on, wouldn't know how to; her heart thumped. Of course, if she found out they didn't, . . .

God. It was this fear which made her shake, which had made her entire attempt to ready herself for her coming date iffy, at best. Still, she had managed her preparations in record time just to have a chance to see Michael once more before she went, knew this was possibly her only chance. That kiss may have left her dazed and unclear--as her earlier actions had certainly shown--but it had also given her the still-palpable motivation to finally try to confront him, had soothed away the old fears temporarily, allowing her to get this far; her heart thumped once more, knowing the truth. If she let this opportunity go, she might never find the courage to try this again.

It was this fact which pushed her, which made her take a few steps forward, setting her on her path--but a new thought intervened, before she got there. Lord--what if he was already gone? What if she had worked herself up for this for nothing? She almost moaned, beginning to shake slightly again. Ohh--what if she had already missed her one chance?

There was nothing to help her now; this fear was playing in her wrackingly, as she stood, frozen and terrified--staring at his dressing room door. Her heart was pounding so strongly, she was certain that everyone on the lot could hear it, was further overwhelmed with every passing second. Oh, Lord. Her mind turned--a new anxiety playing her. She had already become the center of all gossip here earlier today. She really didn't need to give them any more.

Fortunately, she was saved from at least a few of her horrors a moment later, when the door opened. She was sure her heart had stopped, when she saw Michael emerging, all her momentary terrors overturned--and, despite all her desire to hold herself together, to act like a sensible adult, tears rushed to her eyes, all her fears and desires pounding unbearably through her--the truth too intense. Oh, God. She just needed him to really want her so much . . .

Dear Lord. For Michael, it was an almost terrifying moment when he saw her current state--his heart hammering with a million fears when he saw how upset she was. He had just spent the last hour or so thinking about her without cease, being tormented by his every look, word, action and--especially--desire with her, had only been settled a bit by his newfound plan; the terrified beating grew louder. Please God, no. He couldn't take it. If something had happened to her now, he truly had no idea of what he might do.

His eyes were wide, as he took her in, then, coming toward her--desperately afraid of what he might find. "Ni-ki-ta?" God, how he prayed she wasn't hurt.

Oh--dear Lord. It was too much. Just the sweet way he pronounced her name was too intense for her; the tears escaped, as she let out a small sob, and--feeling like an idiot but just not able to help herself--she flung herself toward him, landing at last in his very solid, reassuring embrace. A small "Mi-chael" was about all she could get out. All she could really think about was that she was going to be kicking herself for acting like such a fool for days to come--while he would probably be left pondering how to get her mascara out of his shirt--but, oh Lord, did his arms ever feel good. She closed her eyes, holding him tighter. Yes.

Dear Christ. He wasn't sure he could take it. His heart was pounding--his fears quickly rising into shock; there was just no way to understand. He had never seen her like this before, had never known her to be so overwhelmed by emotion. Even when he had, in his idiocy, done his best to destroy her feelings for him, had told her such scarring half-truths, she had still held together admirably--had never come apart at any time; he held her closer, his terrors on the rise. Oh, Lord. What had happened to her now?

She wasn't doing much to help his fears, either, just wasn't able to. She simply cried against him for several long seconds, her snuffling lost against his shirt, while her mind, without any permission at all, started to turn wildly. God--he smelled so good. Her heart thumped, all her desires rising almost unbearably. How was it even possible for a man to smell like this?

Oh, God--he was lost, in so many ways. He let her cry for awhile without saying anything--mostly because he was too frightened to find his voice. Still, a few moments later, he managed it, the sounds husky with fear and--God help him--longing; his heart beat so heavily with it. Whatever had happened, the fact that she trusted him enough to come to his arms was nearly his undoing; the added frisson of her incredibly sweet body pressed against his own was almost a cosmic joke of a torment. Oh, Lord. "What's wrong?"

Oh. She took a deep breath--and tried not to be overwhelmed by the sheer sensual experience of it. The words had broken through to her at last--made her realize all too well just what a fool she was being; her heart sunk. Jesus. She sniffed. If she had ever wanted to prove to him just how unsophisticated and inexperienced she was, she had gone a long way toward it now; she swallowed back a moan, all her fears taking over. If only he liked his women that way at all.

There was probably no hope for her now, she knew--but she couldn't get out of this easily. She managed to pull herself back together a moment later, leaning slightly away--knowing the time to run was long past. She hated the fact that she must look like a bedraggled raccoon after all those stupid tears--she did hate makeup--but there was nothing for that now. Whatever her actions, he would just have to take her very foolish self the way she was.

It took her a second, but she made herself face up to this, took a deep breath, looking at him at last--and was at least a little encouraged that he didn't seem to want to let her go just yet; her thoughts turned, souring. Still, when he realized that she had basically been weeping like an imbecile over nothing . . . Another deep breath followed, as she searched for words to explain--the fears nearly overpowering her completely. "Nothing. It's just . . ." Nope--it did no good. She just couldn't find a way to say it at all.

Lord. It took him several, very long, seconds, before he eased up what had become his almost-furious grip on her arms--his fears getting the better of him. He spent all of them looking deep into her eyes--which, God help him, were an even more beautiful shade of shining blue after those tears--trying to assess just how bad things were. Once he was finally satisfied that she hadn't been the victim of anything too perilous, he let out a deep breath, nodding--his heart slowing only slightly. It didn't help any of his reactions to note that, in the last few minutes, he had nearly been more frightened than at any previous point in his life; he held back his moan. Considering all that had come before, it said a great deal--and none of it boded well for his sanity at all.

This disconcertion wouldn't do, however; he was trying to pull himself together, could see that she didn't seem to be particularly harmed--was trying to comfort himself with this. Even if he wasn't at all certain of what had led her to this state, he would try to go on, would begin the plan he had so newly formed--would try to be a friend; she obviously needed that now, whatever had happened. His mind turned a second later, though--his heart thumping at the thought that it might be him that she needed more than anything, but he repressed the moan which tried to escape, needing to go on with something like sanity; he took a very deep breath. One thing at a time.

He came back to reality a bit further a moment later, then, looking around them--glad to find that no one had seen this interlude. Whatever was happening, that wouldn't have helped at all.

The fact that they were alone was something, he supposed; his mind ran back, his heart saddened. He had already made her the object of far too much gossip today. He tried to hold back his sigh. He had to find some way to make that up to her at last.

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  • Chapter 23 - Part 2 -- Repost Fairy, 17:21:38 05/03/02 Fri
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