Chapter 74 -- The New Alternate Universe of La Femme Nikita

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Date Posted: 14:05:39 06/21/02 Fri
Author: Repost Fairy
Author Host/IP: 64.193.19.25
Subject: Chapter 74
In reply to: Repost Fairy 's message, "Burden of Proof - 68 and up" on 11:17:24 06/21/02 Fri

Jack pulled her Discman headphones off when she saw Michael walking toward her workstation. She hated having to abandon her new classical CD, but Michael always spoke so quickly, and softly. She had enough trouble hearing him without the 1812 Overture blaring in her ears at the same time.

Not that she would have minded drowning out that cold-eyed piece of work, Andrea, a few minutes earlier. However, in the spirit of not antagonising a woman who for some reason always reminded her of Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction, Jack had forced herself to play nice.

Michael stopped in front of her desk. �Good morning, Jacqueline.�

She grinned at him. Usually, anyone foolhardy enough to use her full name was issued a stern glare and a swift �call me Jack�. Not Michael. He managed to make her much-hated name sound exotic, quite different from her family�s and former schoolteachers� mangled pronunciations. Her Aunt Enid had been the worst offender.

As she rummaged around on her desk for the equipment she knew Michael needed, Jack remembered a typical conversation, circa 1975. �But Jackeleen�s such a pretty name, dearie. I don�t understand why you insist on being called Jack. It�s so...� Enid eyed Jack�s stained jeans with despair. As usual, they were torn at both knees. ��tomboyish.� With a sigh, she then studied her niece�s short blonde hair, no doubt wishing Jack�s mother hadn�t agreed to such a drastic haircut. Jack didn�t care. Everyone else might have loved them, but she�d hated those plaits. All they ever did was get in the way when she played hockey.

Sighing at the memory, Jack handed Michael a remote comm. unit and the electronic register used for signing out equipment. �Hey, long time no see.�

He took the PDA from her and keyed in his code. �It�s been a while.�

Jack leaned back in her chair, frowning at him teasingly. �You never call, you never write.� When Michael lifted his eyes from the PDA to look at her, she paused, deciding to wait and see if he smiled before continuing. They�d always gotten on just fine, but you never knew with Michael. Sometimes he was approachable, and other days you felt as though you may as well be talking to the wall for all the response you got.

Michael smiled. Not much of a smile, but a smile nevertheless. �I know.�

�Don�t feel bad. I wouldn�t come in here either if I had a choice.� She took the PDA back from him and stowed it away. �So, I hear British Telecom is adding all sorts of new features to their phones these days?�

Another smile. �So it would seem.�

Jack nodded her head in the general direction of Paul Wolfe�s office. �Did the Big Man tell you I�ve rerouted it?�

�Yes.�

�I�ve set up a few fake client calls, and taken the liberty of creating your side of the conversations from stuff I already had on file.� She leaned back in her chair and gave him another grin. �That part only took a couple of minutes�I guess I should be happy you�re not big on chatting. I can�t believe those people pay you so much for saying so little.�

Michael stared at her, looking faintly bewildered. It was the same look, Jack realised with glee, Paul Wolfe normally gave her. As though he was torn between telling her to shut the hell up, and slapping her on the back while asking her to come out for a pint.

After a moment, Michael obviously decided that polite withdrawal was the right way to go. He slipped the remote communications unit into the inside pocket of his jacket, and gave her a quick nod of thanks. �Uh, thank you.�

�Any time, Michael.� She reached for her discarded headphones. �Have fun on Saturday night, but not too much. I�ll be listening, remember, and my ears are very delicate.�

This time, the smile reached his eyes. �I�ll do my best.�

Jack watched him as he walked away. He�s not quite my type, she thought, but I do love to watch that man leave. With this salacious thought in mind, she stared intently as he left the room, then frowned. Perhaps it was just her imagination, but Michael looked like he�d lost a fair bit of weight since she�d last seen him. That had been nearly six months ago, she realised, and the change in him was all too clear. His face seemed harder, leaner. Colder. And his eyes, which had always been fairly difficult to read, were now so remote she was amazed at her nerve in plying him with all those jokes.

Jack wasn�t supposed to be privy to the finer details of Michael�s �officially unofficial� relationship with her employer, but she knew enough to make her want to give him a big squishy hug every time she saw him. His life couldn�t be easy.

With a sigh, she stuck the headphones back in her ears, and considered the nearby pile of CDs. She was getting a bit sick of the 1812 Overture. Her fingers hovered over a particular selection, and she looked around guiltily. Enjoying the current eighties revival was one thing. Admitting to your work colleagues that your favourite CD in the whole world was the soundtrack from �Grease� was quite another.

Sod the lot of them, she thought with relish. Precisely one minute later, she was flagging potential comm. black spots in the East End that might affect the Chay sequence, while tapping her feet to the stirring chorus of �Summer Nights�, blasting in her ears. If she had to sit at this bloody desk for another eight hours, instead of being out in the fresh air practicing her hockey moves, she definitely needed Danny and Sandy singing up a storm.

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Chapter 75 -- Repost Fairy, 14:21:38 06/21/02 Fri