Fic: Nikita, Rain (Nikita/Michael -ish)
Title: Rain
Fandom/Pairing: Nikita, hints of Nikita/Michael
Rating: PG
Summary: On a rainy night, Nikita ponders where she is now. Spoilery for all episodes aired until 1x04...
Disclamier: Not mine, the CW own the rights to the show etc... No copyright infringement intended.
Wordcount: 1046
Author's Note: Unbetaed
This was made for a promotion challenge at spy_land, You should join, team CIA needs more people and it's where it's at!
Nikita looked outside the window. The city was beautiful at night, there was no denying it. She had chosen this loft because it was perfect for her purposes: big, wired, yet people completely forgot it was there. The old lady she had bought it from was rotting in some twilight home, left behind by her friends and family, Alzheimer slowly eating away the remnants of who she had been. She had been so happy to get visit from Nikita, even if she was terrified she was supposed to recognize her. Nikita had reassured her then explain why she was coming to her. She had made sure to give her more than a generous amount of money for it, even making arrangement with the director of the old people’s home to make sure the lady would get top treatment until the end. Nobody would be able to say that she robbed defenseless grandmothers. Nikita was an hired gun, sure, and she would kill time and time again if it meant fixing some of her previous hits, but she didn’t steal.
The loft was serving its purpose perfectly. She tried not to think of it as home, as it would make it harder to leave the day when she would have to run away, but it felt good to be there. It was so different from Division’s training center, yet she felt comfortable there, like she had in the agency’s building. It was strange to see how much some place with sterile walls, and impersonal rooms had felt like home.
Her heart clenched when she thought of how naïve she had been. Six years ago felt more like a century ago. She was not the same girl who had been recruited back then. Now she had lived, loved and learnt. She had experience all those amazing emotions, and their counterpart: hate, despair, deception. She had experienced real life.
She had a bitter smile: before joining Division, she really had thought she had seen it all, that she had felt it all, how wrong she had been. She had been a thief and an accidental murderer. She had been a junkie, someone you couldn’t trust. She had felt like her life couldn’t get much worse. In a sense, she had been right: she had hit rock bottom. At the same time, she had been wrong: life after Division had taught her a whole new level of pain and misery. She had wanted to die so many times after escaping, feeling whatever she would do, she wouldn’t be able to achieve much more than what she had done so far, running away from them. The only thing that had kept her from killing herself was the thought that she would have just made their job easier by killing herself. If they wanted her six feet under, they would have to achieve that prowess.
It started raining, and she smiled wilder. She loved the rain, especially at night. At Division, you never knew what the weather was like outside. When she had started running, she had suddenly realized how much she had been missing. She had always been aware of it, on some levels, but being free had magnified everything.
She grabbed her umbrella, and her coat, feeling the urge to just go for a walk. She checked the computer, in case Alex was trying to reach her, then turned it off. She got down the stairs, and felt the rain on her face, delight filling her soul. This was what real life was about. Not about murders, not about playing hide-and-seek with a murderous organization. It was about the simple things, like a young girl smiling at you in the street or the way the rain felt on your cheek.
She waited a few more seconds before opening her umbrella, and walking to the grocery store a few streets from here. It gave her a purpose, even though she didn’t really need to buy anything. When she got there, she bought a bottle of orange juice, avoiding cameras, and got out. She walked some more, and ended up walking a little farther, in the direction of Michael’s place.
She liked to pass in front of it whenever she could, it was always empty. She felt a thrill at thinking about how close they lived to each other. If only he knew…. Everybody was expecting her to be hiding, somewhere in Nebraska, or Alaska, only coming out of her burrow to mess with their operations.
They were wrong. She was nothing if not bold. She had chosen her loft factoring proximity to Michael’s place, just to spite him.
She was surprised to see that the lights were on at his flat when she got in front of his building. She hid behind a tree just in case someone was watching, and looked up at the 3rd floor. She could only see the top of his head, he had to be sitting on his couch (yeah, she knew how his apartment looked like).
She imagined him sitting there, probably with a bottle of scotch, his poison of choice. Sadistically, she hoped he was troubled. She needed him to be troubled. With their last mission, he had gotten a glimpse of the awful deeds Division helped. She needed him to doubt. She had left him behind, knowing he would be in charge of chasing her. She knew how he was. He liked to think he knew her better than she did him, but he was wrong, it went both ways. She had high hopes for him, like she did for Alex. She believed he could change side if she presented him with enough evidences… At first it had been just a thought, some wishful thinking, but since she had seen the tortured look on his face upon realizing Division had fooled him, she had found herself filled with hope…
She shouldn’t let herself feel this way, she scolded herself, hope led to disappointment. Yet, she did… She took one more look at Michael’s window, picturing him trying to make sense of what he had found out. As she walked away, she smiled. Maybe one day would come, sooner rather than later when she would be the one recruiting Michael for her cause…
No, really, JOIN spy_land
Fandom/Pairing: Nikita, hints of Nikita/Michael
Rating: PG
Summary: On a rainy night, Nikita ponders where she is now. Spoilery for all episodes aired until 1x04...
Disclamier: Not mine, the CW own the rights to the show etc... No copyright infringement intended.
Wordcount: 1046
Author's Note: Unbetaed
This was made for a promotion challenge at spy_land, You should join, team CIA needs more people and it's where it's at!
Nikita looked outside the window. The city was beautiful at night, there was no denying it. She had chosen this loft because it was perfect for her purposes: big, wired, yet people completely forgot it was there. The old lady she had bought it from was rotting in some twilight home, left behind by her friends and family, Alzheimer slowly eating away the remnants of who she had been. She had been so happy to get visit from Nikita, even if she was terrified she was supposed to recognize her. Nikita had reassured her then explain why she was coming to her. She had made sure to give her more than a generous amount of money for it, even making arrangement with the director of the old people’s home to make sure the lady would get top treatment until the end. Nobody would be able to say that she robbed defenseless grandmothers. Nikita was an hired gun, sure, and she would kill time and time again if it meant fixing some of her previous hits, but she didn’t steal.
The loft was serving its purpose perfectly. She tried not to think of it as home, as it would make it harder to leave the day when she would have to run away, but it felt good to be there. It was so different from Division’s training center, yet she felt comfortable there, like she had in the agency’s building. It was strange to see how much some place with sterile walls, and impersonal rooms had felt like home.
Her heart clenched when she thought of how naïve she had been. Six years ago felt more like a century ago. She was not the same girl who had been recruited back then. Now she had lived, loved and learnt. She had experience all those amazing emotions, and their counterpart: hate, despair, deception. She had experienced real life.
She had a bitter smile: before joining Division, she really had thought she had seen it all, that she had felt it all, how wrong she had been. She had been a thief and an accidental murderer. She had been a junkie, someone you couldn’t trust. She had felt like her life couldn’t get much worse. In a sense, she had been right: she had hit rock bottom. At the same time, she had been wrong: life after Division had taught her a whole new level of pain and misery. She had wanted to die so many times after escaping, feeling whatever she would do, she wouldn’t be able to achieve much more than what she had done so far, running away from them. The only thing that had kept her from killing herself was the thought that she would have just made their job easier by killing herself. If they wanted her six feet under, they would have to achieve that prowess.
It started raining, and she smiled wilder. She loved the rain, especially at night. At Division, you never knew what the weather was like outside. When she had started running, she had suddenly realized how much she had been missing. She had always been aware of it, on some levels, but being free had magnified everything.
She grabbed her umbrella, and her coat, feeling the urge to just go for a walk. She checked the computer, in case Alex was trying to reach her, then turned it off. She got down the stairs, and felt the rain on her face, delight filling her soul. This was what real life was about. Not about murders, not about playing hide-and-seek with a murderous organization. It was about the simple things, like a young girl smiling at you in the street or the way the rain felt on your cheek.
She waited a few more seconds before opening her umbrella, and walking to the grocery store a few streets from here. It gave her a purpose, even though she didn’t really need to buy anything. When she got there, she bought a bottle of orange juice, avoiding cameras, and got out. She walked some more, and ended up walking a little farther, in the direction of Michael’s place.
She liked to pass in front of it whenever she could, it was always empty. She felt a thrill at thinking about how close they lived to each other. If only he knew…. Everybody was expecting her to be hiding, somewhere in Nebraska, or Alaska, only coming out of her burrow to mess with their operations.
They were wrong. She was nothing if not bold. She had chosen her loft factoring proximity to Michael’s place, just to spite him.
She was surprised to see that the lights were on at his flat when she got in front of his building. She hid behind a tree just in case someone was watching, and looked up at the 3rd floor. She could only see the top of his head, he had to be sitting on his couch (yeah, she knew how his apartment looked like).
She imagined him sitting there, probably with a bottle of scotch, his poison of choice. Sadistically, she hoped he was troubled. She needed him to be troubled. With their last mission, he had gotten a glimpse of the awful deeds Division helped. She needed him to doubt. She had left him behind, knowing he would be in charge of chasing her. She knew how he was. He liked to think he knew her better than she did him, but he was wrong, it went both ways. She had high hopes for him, like she did for Alex. She believed he could change side if she presented him with enough evidences… At first it had been just a thought, some wishful thinking, but since she had seen the tortured look on his face upon realizing Division had fooled him, she had found herself filled with hope…
She shouldn’t let herself feel this way, she scolded herself, hope led to disappointment. Yet, she did… She took one more look at Michael’s window, picturing him trying to make sense of what he had found out. As she walked away, she smiled. Maybe one day would come, sooner rather than later when she would be the one recruiting Michael for her cause…
No, really, JOIN spy_land