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Date Posted: 15:38:44 05/03/02 Fri
Author: Repost Fairy
Author Host/IP: 64.193.19.25
Subject: Part 42 - sex, violence, language - but a short part
In reply to: Lila 's message, "The Beginning - Part 33 and Up" on 15:11:24 05/03/02 Fri

Part 42

“So that’s how you met?” Nikita asked incredulously. “She made coq au vin?” She shook her head, “My mother couldn’t even heat up a can of soup!”

Walter finished his glass, and set it on the table. “Nikita, the woman you knew had been broken and abused, and I’m mighty sorry that you didn’t know her the way I did.” He captured her eyes with his, “Please, just listen, and open your heart. She was good. She was.” Nikita swallowed her remarks and nodded at Walter. He saw her gesture faintly in the moonlight and continued.

“She had been hanging around Bangkok for a while and met Paul. When he came back to Phuket, she came along.” Walter’s eyes had a distant look, as if he were trying to see into the past. “She just started, I don’t know… taking care of us. All of us.”

Nikita stirred and said, “I remember Paul, but I remember other men too. I remember a tall French man. I remember seeing them make love.” She blushed at the memory.

‘”Oh, Sugar, it’s so hard to explain,” Walter said.

Michael’s hand squeezed Nikita’s. “Please try,” she said. “I promise I’ll try to keep my mouth shut.”

Walter laughed. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep!” he said.

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

“I’ll be gone for a month,” Paul said to the woman in his arms. He kissed the side of her face, and rested his hand on her breast.

“A month!” she said, enjoying his caresses. “What am I going to do without you for a month?” Paul rolled over on top of her, kissed her deeply, while running his hand along the front of her body. Finding her welcome, he slipped his hardened penis inside of her. She moaned with pleasure, and complained, “A whole month! I can’t wait for you a whole month!”

Paul languidly made love to her, Roberta moaning with every stroke. “I’m sure you’ll find someone to keep you occupied,” he said, knowing she was incapable of fidelity.

Her breathing was erratic, speech difficult. “Wouldn’t….ohh… you… ohh… be angry?” she asked between shudders.

Paul climaxed and rested on her chest. “Would that stop you?” he asked, breath passing over her breast.

She laughed and reached for a joint sitting in the bedside ashtray. “It doesn’t mean I don’t love you,” she said, lighting it over his head, arms up in the air.

“You smoke too much of that shit,” he said, annoyed.

She inhaled slowly, and exhaled, blowing the smoke into his face. “You’re just jealous.”

He laughed, knowing it was true, and knowing he didn’t care. “So who?” he asked.

Roberta smiled and said, “Who do you think will try to steal the Lieutenant’s woman?” She inhaled another toke of marijuana.

Paul lifted himself onto his elbows, looking into her eyes. “Is she really the Lieutenant’s woman?”

She placed the joint back on the ashtray and reached her lips to his. “She is now.”

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

“So you mean to tell me that my mother was in love with all the men in the house, including you, and she slept with all of them?” Nikita said, shock not even coming close to describing her emotions.

Walter was afraid she would see only black and white. “Nikita, honey, it wasn’t like that. She just became part of the five of us.”

“Oh,” she said, “So she slept with Adrian too?”

Walter rolled his eyes. “Michael, tell her…”

“What?” he asked.

Walter shrugged, “I don’t know, tell her its possible. Tell her how you loved Elena and Simone.” Walter slammed his hand over his mouth, recalling the conversation he had with Michael about Elena. A job. He didn’t know how to pry his giant foot out of his mouth.

Michael’s face reflected pain of a kind that those tormented in poetry know. “It was all a lie,” Michael muttered.

“What are you talking about?” Nikita asked. “You told me you loved them both.” She looked across at Walter, then turned her head to look at Michael.

Michael looked at Walter. “Adrian confirmed. Elena was a set up.”

“And Adam?” Walter asked, hating that he’d ever laid eyes on the English dame. Disbelieving that it was worse than he had imagined.

“Elena thought a child would protect her,” Michael said. “It didn’t.”

“I don’t understand what you two are talking about,” Nikita said. “Would someone explain this?” She was becoming annoyed. This was supposed to be about her mother, and now Michael seemed to be disappearing into himself. A place she had tremendous difficulty retrieving him. And now, with their relationship so fragile, she was filled with fear. “Michael, please,” she said, soothingly. “What is it?”

Michael had closed his eyes, trying to force away the complicated pain of Elena and Adam.

Walter stood, “I’ll be right back, I gotta go,” he said, giving them some privacy.

“Michael, tell me what just happened,” she said. She lifted her hand to his head and turned it to face hers. “Don’t hide from me.”

Michael slowly exhaled, reminding himself of the silent promises he made to her over and over about truth. “I seduced Elena. She was a job.” Nikita blinked, not wanting to respond. He had told her on the train to Geneva that he had done this, but Elena? The mother of his son? She held her tongue.

Michael took a sip from his wine glass, and swallowed. The liquid burned his throat slightly, but not as much as his next words. “I grew to care for her, and I sometimes loved her.” Nikita saw a small pool of tears gather in his eyes, but not fall. “Adam was everything…” Abruptly Michael stood, knocking over the small table that held his glass. It smashed as the table tumbled over. “I don’t want this anymore!” he shouted. “Enough talk,” he said, as he kicked the already fallen table. “She was a lie!” he cried, “They sent her to me! A test!” He walked to the edge of the terrace, a foot tall high wall surrounding its edges, and slid down, the brick scratching and tearing at his back until he was resting on the patio floor. “I carry her death every day,” he whispered, eyes staring into middle space, “every day…”

Nikita rushed to him, stunned by his outburst, the agony of his confession washing over her. His burden of death having been smoke, effect, for what? She crouched down next to him, understanding why he feared to let out the pain. This truth could turn diamonds into dust. “Michael,” she said, “It’s not your fault.”

His eyes focused on the incandescent face in front of him, shimmering blue eyes, overflowing with concern for him. For him, why? Michael wanted to bury himself in her eyes. Escape everything. “You know nothing,” he said, eyes turning downwards.

“Get off the ground, you sorry pathetic bastard!” Walter yelled, as he reached the top of the stairs from the house.

“Walter!” Nikita stood and yelled. “How dare you call him that? No human should have to...”

“No they shouldn’t, Sugar,” Walter said, picking up the overturned table. “I’ve had enough of his self-torture. We’ve all suffered, and if he can’t go on living, I’ll finish it for him.” Walter was holding a pistol. He walked towards Michael and Nikita, making sure they were both in his sights, and far enough away so no one could reach him. “Is this what you want?” Walter said to Michael. “Death?” Walter advanced a few more steps, gun still aimed at Michael.

Michael’s eyes searched Walter’s. He would pull the trigger, Michael saw that. Michael closed his eyes, the thought of death so welcome, and yet… This woman, who had brought him back, had however briefly made him want to live again. If he died now, Adrian would win, Nikita would lose, he would lose. He opened his eyes, vowing to be rid of the past, imploring Nikita to come to him. His magnetic eyes pulled her towards him, and she helped him stand.

“No,” Michael said, “Not death.”

Walter visibly relaxed, dropping his weapon to his side. Michael instantly removed the gun from Walter’s hand, stuffed it in the waste band of his jeans and said, voice tight, “Don’t point guns at me.”

“Yeah, sure,” Walter said, his own voice tense from the situation, “No problem, kid.”

Nikita watched as the two men made peace. “Are you ok?” she asked Michael.

“Yes,” he said, folding his arms around her, hugging her tightly. “I’m ok as long as I have you.”

She had been so frightened for Michael moments ago, but now, she felt her hand balling in a fist, rage simmering in her stomach. She buried her head in Michael’s shoulder, attempting to hide her murderous expression. She clamped her eyes closed, trying to dismiss the image of shooting, seeing in her mind her pulling the trigger of the gun, and the blood of her victim spilling.

Michael felt Nikita’s body tense. He gently pushed her away from him, “What’s wrong?” he asked.

She tried to cover her face in mask, not wanting him or Walter to know that Marco’s devious tactics had worked. She was fighting with every breath not to kill. “I just need to sit,” she said. Michael took her hand and led her back to the chairs. Michael helped her into the chair, and has he turned to sit in his own, she grabbed the gun from his waste band.

“Ni-ki-ta,” Michael whispered, “What are you doing?”

“Step back, Michael,” she yelled, aiming her gun at Walter. “He shouldn’t have threatened you.” She backed herself towards the edge of the terrace.

Walter opened his mouth but Michael interrupted, shaking his head, “Don’t speak…” Walter understood and stopped.

“I’m protecting us! Someone has to!” she screamed. “He tried to have us killed! He’s trying to kill me! I’m putting an end to this!” Her arm was steady, finger curled around the gun’s trigger.

“Ni-ki-ta,” Michael said, “He loves you. Put down the gun.” He stepped closer to her.

Nikita waved the gun, “No Marco, I have to do this,” she said.

Michael had no choice. He sprang, cat-like from his position, trying to disarm her. The gun fired as his body crashed into hers.

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Replies:

  • Part 43 - short, sorry - little sex,language, twistedness -- Repost Fairy, 15:40:46 05/03/02 Fri
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