Balance Requires Motion 3/9
Title: Balance Requires Motion
Fandom: La Femme Nikita
Pairing: Michael Samuelle/Nikita Wirth
Characters: Michael Samuelle, Adam Samuelle, Nikita Wirth, OCs
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Post Series Fic
Length: 40,300 words
Chapter: 3/9
Summary: "When Michael first saw Nikita standing on his front porch, his whole world splintered and then, between one step and the next, remade itself."
Part 1, Living the Normal Life, can be found here
Balance Requires Motion, Chapter 1
Balance Requires Motion, Chapter 2
****
Three weeks after her arrival in Minnesota, Nikita stepped into their bedroom and closed the door behind her, pushing it until the latch clicked. At the sound, Michael looked up from getting dressed. She tossed him the positive pregnancy stick, which he caught effortlessly. She said, “good work.”
He examined the little stick for a second or two, and then he set it down on the dresser and looked up at her. His eyes were bright with pleasure and his full lips were quirking into a smile, but what he said was, “your arrival was well timed.”
Nikita laughed then, feeling light with happiness, and crossed the room to step into his open arms. “Fertility Awareness Method. I knew I was going to ovulate about two days after I got here. It’s all the rage in the pre-pregnant sites on the internet.”
He hugged her tight, which was more reassuring than anything he could have said. “Still, first time?”
“I know.” She kissed him, hard. “I was telling myself not to panic even if it took a year, or never at all.”
He put his hands on the sides of her face, examining her carefully. “Would that have been so horrible?”
She planted a kiss on his palm before laying his hand against her cheek. This was another thing she had thought about often, in the dark of the night. “It would have been hard, after everything, to let go of that dream.” She caught his eye again. “But, you and I? We’re survivors, Michael. We would have come through it.”
“I’m sorry Adam has-“
She kissed him, cutting him off. “He has had you entirely to himself for a long time. I expected it to be difficult.”
She had also been foolish enough to hope it would not be as difficult as it was proving to be, that the open and loving little boy of her memory would be willing to love her still, but any disappointment was her own fault, and she knew it. In any case, she thought she was making some headway in earning Adam’s friendship now.
She was overseeing the work on the basement remodeling. Michael had called in a number of favors, and laid out markers for more, to get their project squeezed to the top of the schedule for all the different tradesmen required, carpenters, plumbers, and electricians. But Michael went to work each day with Adam, and then Adam was at soccer practice all afternoon, every afternoon, leaving Nikita in charge at the house. This meant that each evening, she was the one who led Adam through the day’s progress, and she believed that the pleasure he shared with her as his new bedroom took shape was genuine.
The work was going quickly enough that they hoped that his bedroom, at least, if not the bathroom, would be ready for him to move into before the first day of the school year, which was in another week.
The project had also grown, as remodeling projects are wont to do, and they were finishing off the entire basement, not just a bedroom and bathroom. One thing had led to another. The tiny kitchen table was barely big enough for three people at breakfast and there was no room for a bigger one, but laptops, a printer and the stacks of miscellaneous paper that cluttered Adam and Michael’s lives had long ago swallowed the dining room table. To reclaim that for eating, Michael needed a new work area. Adam suggested his room, but Nikita had been quick to propose a basement office instead and Michael as quickly agreed. Before Adam could ask any probing questions about the fate of his not-quite-old bedroom, Nikita had elaborated the office into an office/den/basement entertainment area - and the prospect of the gaming TV and consoles having their own permanent, glare-free home was too delicious for Adam to waste any more time talking about such dull issues as an empty upstairs bedroom.
Nikita also believed that she had scored points with Adam in her choice of a car. As things had worked out, she and Michael had not managed to go car shopping until one day after work during her first week in St. Paul. Adam ended up coming with them after all, lured by the promise of dinner at a favorite restaurant. As they walked through lines of ‘lightly-used’ small SUVs, Adam kept glancing at smaller, sportier cars. That was out of the question for a number of reasons, but after watching him she realized part of the attraction was he wanted to drive a manual shift. He had been driving with his dad on a learner’s permit for almost three months, anxiously waiting for his sixteenth birthday and his provisional driver’s license. Michael’s SUV was an automatic and a couple of comments later, Nikita understood that Adam regarded manual transmissions with all the fascination an inexperienced fifteen year old who had watched The Fast and the Furious too many times could muster. After a quick, non-verbal exchange with Michael, she switched to looking at various four-wheel drive station wagons and hybrids, with manual shifts. The one she picked out was a boring and respectable dark blue, but at least had leather seats and an mp3 player jack; and it had a manual transmission.
Nikita was taking Adam out by herself to teach him how to use the gearshift and the clutch, and so she thought she was earning Adam’s approval for that as well. She had definitely earned his praise for her music collection. He had been quite surprised to learn that Michael had taught Nikita how to drive a car, though, and she had to scramble fast when she realized that Michael had not made it clear to Adam just how long she and Michael had known each other. After that she kept an even more careful guard against any stray references to her past with Michael, which turned out to be easier than she anticipated as Adam ostentatiously refused to ask her any questions about herself or her history.
However, each step forward seemed to bring a half step, or more, back. In general Adam was as soft spoken and polite as Michael, which was hardly surprising. So, with the exception of an unusual slip followed by an intense confrontation with his father in the privacy of the backyard, he was not openly rude to her. But he could, and did, seize on any chance to freeze her out from inserting herself into any activity that he was used to enjoying exclusively with Michael. As this meant, more or less, anything and everything they did together, up to and including work, there had been a lot of evenings when Adam had proposed something, had her and Michael take him up on the idea, only to have Adam change his mind due to obvious disappointment that Nikita would be included. Nights like that he usually left the house with his neighborhood friends or retreated to his room and his ever-louder music. Sometimes Nikita urged Michael to go with Adam and leave her home alone, but, predictably, that never really satisfied anyone either.
Adam could also be clever about finding ways to block her out. That first weekend he had managed to work the conversation around to religious faith, and when she told him in response to a direct question that she was an atheist, he triumphantly announced that in that case, she could not possibly want to join their Catholic parish. Which, in many ways, was quite true. But she was determined to respect their participation in whatever community they had created for themselves. However, Michael intervened at that point and mildly told Adam that he, Michael, was also an atheist and that he had been one for all of his adult life. To which Adam had said, “Fine! Take her side!” and flung himself out of the room.
She did not join them for Sunday mass, that week or in the three weeks since.
When she had expressed enthusiasm for sailing with them, saying to Michael, “I’ve really missed sailing. I haven’t been since you left,” Adam started dramatically, stared at his father, and then exclaimed, “Oh my God! You bought the boat because of her, didn’t you?!” and then, flung himself out of the room.
The second weekend after her arrival, she had suggested going out to hear some live music, she had been reading about the Minneapolis music scene and was interested in checking it out. Adam curled his lip and assured them he had better things to do. But, at breakfast the next day when he realized they had gone to a couple of bars in the heart of the new music district and heard some locally popular bands, he scowled, pouted, declared, “I didn’t know you were going to hear cool music! Thanks for telling me!” and, yes, flung himself out of the room.
He would not even discuss going to the dojo with them, merely staring in mute horror before fleeing.
So, she and Michael went sailing, went out to hear music, and went to the dojo without Adam.
Which was great for her and Michael. It gave them time to reconnect, to fill in all that had happened during their years apart, to enjoy being in a place and time where they did not have to shield their love or hide their affection. It also gave them the opportunity to remember what irked them. Michael refused, for the most part, to talk about how he felt about Adam’s behavior, preferring to stew in frustrated irritation and guilt. Her impulse to defend Adam on the few occasions that Michael did make a critical comment earned her narrowed eyes and abrupt changes of subject.
As a result, it was easy for them to agree to say nothing to Adam about her pregnancy until they were sure all was going well, and after Adam had had more time to come to terms with the first round of changes in his life.
*****
Adam moved into his new bedroom the weekend before tenth grade started. It still smelled of new carpet and new paint despite the new window opened wide, but the smell faded in the reality of the total awesomeness of his new space. The walls were a bright clear blue, setting off the light blond wood finish of the new furniture, and his framed prints and posters that filed the walls. He hadn’t thought frames were necessary, but Nikita had pushed him into it by taking one of his favorites to be framed while he was at work, and it did look really good. The flexible-track lighting Nikita had found was way cool too, and even the twisted-wire mobile he had grudgingly accepted from Nikita as a gift looked really sharp, spinning lightly in the breeze from the open window.
It was a huge relief to crawl into his new bed that night without his music blaring. He didn’t really like extra noise at night, it made it hard for him to sleep, but knowing his dad and Nikita were fucking like crazed monkeys right across the hall and the horror that he might hear something, anything, of that had been enough to keep the music on.
Now he could listen to the familiar quiet night noises he preferred. The wind in the pine trees in the backyard, the tree frogs, the odd call from a night bird, the sound of the dogs nails’ clicking on the vinyl floor as they moved around the kitchen where they slept, these were the sounds that comforted him and made him feel safe.
Because he finally had some peace and quiet, here in his new room, he could review the dizzying changes of the last month. First of all, having the hottest older woman he had ever seen in real life show up and move in to his very own home with no warning at all was one of the most disorienting things he had ever experienced, not excluding the hazily remembered months after his mother’s death, or the terror and confusion of his kidnapping.
It also explained why his dad had not really been all that broken-up about Marie dumping him, either time. Marie was nice enough and all, and pretty in a geeky way, but, man, she had nothing on Nikita.
Nikita was tall, as tall as his dad and, to his total irritation, slightly taller than Adam was, and slim and blond and ripped. He had watched her come in from a run and drop and do four sets each of fifty crunches and fifty pushups, all with barely a change in her breathing. He had the strongest feeling that if he did go to one of their late night sessions at the dojo, Nikita would kick his ass, no problem. He wasn’t ready for that, so he wasn’t going.
All that was hard enough, but worst, without doubt, was the pheromones flying around the house. Nikita and his dad stank of sex. Not really literally, of course, his dad was too polite for anything like that, and Nikita was way careful around him too. But metaphorically, oh man, they did. As a result, he had what felt like a constant semi-hard-on whenever he was with them, or knew they were anywhere near by, doing all that they did when they thought he wasn’t watching. Which was sometimes true, and sometimes not.
It was making him twitchy and short tempered. He had jerked off so much just to keep some ability to control himself the rest of the time that he was sure he had damn near strained his elbow. If his girlfriend Tasha had been in town, there might have been other kinds of relief available, but she was away with her family until school started. He and Tasha had started having sex in the spring, but once school closed for the summer and he spent most of his time with his dad, he and Tasha had a lot of trouble finding a time and place to get naked. They had had to settle for a lot of making out in cars belonging to friends.
Adam also knew that his dad and Nikita loved each other. Any fool could see it. It was in everything they did; the way they checked in with each other about everything, they way they talked without words, they way they touched just the tips of each other’s fingers when other people were around in a really sweet, if utter fail, attempt to keep people from imagining them doing the nasty, in the smiles they exchanged, in the way their faces softened when they watched each other work around the house.
He knew, in his head, that he was glad for his dad. His dad had always been a solitary kind of guy, even when he had a steady girlfriend in Marie, and Adam had always seen it, known it, and felt a little guilty for being the cause of his dad walking out on whatever life he’d had, before. His dad was a cool guy, and he deserved a shot at being in love with a gorgeous woman who loved him back. And Nikita was cool, too. As cool as his dad, even. Too cool for comfort really.
In his heart, though, Adam could not let go of the knowledge that Nikita was the other woman, the woman his dad had chosen over his mom, Elena, and even over Adam himself. That his mom had been dead for almost ten years and he could barely remember her somehow did not matter at all. He remembered his mother’s tears, and he remembered the months of loneliness between her death and his dad’s re-appearance, and he thought he might hate them for what they did. Even when he knew that they hadn’t really done it at all, the terrorists had.
All together, he was really glad to have his own room in the basement, as far away from them as he could get in this small house.
****
Adam cleared his throat, remembered his courage, and said, “So, um, dad. How long is Nicole going to stay with us?”
His father finished the edging stroke he was working on before he turned to face Adam. They were painting a dining room in a fancy condo in one of the downtown neighborhoods. School started the next day, but his dad was short handed again because the college students had all left for the fall term already, so Adam was helping him out this morning.
“Why do you ask?”
What Adam thought of saying was that he might actually hate Nikita, unfair as it was, for coming and messing up his life, and that he wanted her gone, like, yesterday. What he said was, “dad.”
His father’s lips twitched into the smallest of smiles. “Okay.” His dad’s expression grew serious. “We don’t have a formal plan or agreement. But, Nicole and I, we have been waiting a long time to be together. I hope to be with her for the rest of my life.”
“Just like that.”
“It’s not ‘just like that.’ It’s the result of years of thinking and planning.”
“I wasn’t part of all that.”
“You were a child. And it wasn’t about you.”
“So, my opinion doesn’t matter, at all?”
“Your opinion? No.” The casual way his dad dismissed him was infuriating.
Before Adam could say anything, though, his dad went on. “Your safety was everything. It still is. But your opinion of my relationship with Nicole was not relevant.”
Adam also hated the way his dad was always so careful to use her new name, and got really pissy about it if Adam ever forgot.
His dad shrugged. “I had hoped you would not be so hostile. When you were small, you seemed to like her a lot. She really likes you.” His dad’s expression flickered from serious to sharp and disapproving. “Even now, when you’re not giving her much reason to.”
“She’s not my mom.”
“No.” His dad’s brows drew together in a frown. “I wasn’t aware that she has tried to be.”
She hadn’t and Adam knew it, but he plunged on anyway. “And I don’t have to do what she says.”
The sharpness in his dad’s eyes turned fierce and, somehow at the same time, terrifying. “If our safety, if your safety is ever at stake, you will do exactly as she tells you. Without question or hesitation.”
Adam felt his jaw drop in shock at his father’s intensity. Before he could gather his suddenly scattered wits, his dad went on.
“Short of that,” and here his dad smiled quickly and, Adam was certain, the expression in his eyes turned faintly mocking, “I can’t imagine that she would be so foolish as to tell you to do anything at all.”
Adam could not think of a single response that did not make him sound, and feel, like a thwarted eleven year old, so after a beat or two, he turned back to his paint tray. He said aloud, “I’m going to Tasha’s for dinner tonight.” And made a note to himself to call Tasha and arrange it as soon as he could.
******
“Want to drive?” Nikita held up the car keys and smiled at Adam as the four of them, Adam, Adam’s girlfriend Tasha, Nikita, and Michael walked out of the restaurant and into the afternoon sunshine.
Adam’s face lit up. “Really?”
“Got your permit with you?”
“Yep!”
“Catch.”
Nikita tossed Adam the keys, then turned to catch Michael’s eye and grinned happily at him. Michael smiled back, swallowing his flicker of resentment that she should have made the offer to Adam without checking with him first. He told himself, again, that he wanted Nikita and Adam’s relationship to develop into something strong and positive for both of them. That he wanted their relationship to exist independently of him, Michael. That he didn’t want to be the only thing that allowed them to be in the same space willingly. He reminded himself that the most exhausting aspect of dating Marie had been being stuck in the position of mediator between two antagonistic parties.
So, he had almost succeeded in beating down the resentment when they got to Nikita’s car and he realized that Adam and Nikita both assumed he would ride in the backseat with Tasha. He was reduced to shaming himself into a smile by pointing out to himself that he was reacting like a moody adolescent. For example, like the one who was currently grinning like a madman as he settled into the driver’s seat and began conscientiously and self-consciously adjusting the seat and the mirrors.
Adam only stalled the car out once, when he first put it in gear, and after that, while he was a bit jerky moving from a stop into first gear at stoplights and stop signs, he drove pretty well. Michael still wasn’t sure he would have judged Adam ready to handle so many passengers and a manual shift at the same time, but he was prepared to acknowledge that he might be more cautious than was really necessary.
He glanced over at Tasha. Knowing she would be sixteen a few months after Adam, he asked, “Have you started driving too?”
She flashed him a nervous smile. “A little. In the country this summer.”
Tasha dropped her eyes, probably hoping he would not ask her any more questions. She was always like that, nervous and uncomfortable around him. He, of course, knew at least a dozen different ways to get a very young woman’s attention, but none of them were remotely parental in approach or intent and he was appalled that he even remembered what they were when he was around her.
He had given up expecting that she would get less nervous around him after she and Adam had been seeing each other for several months without any change, but he was hoping that with Nikita in the mix, Tasha might, finally, relax enough so that he could figure out what Adam liked about her. Not that she was unlikable, exactly, just that in his presence she was usually so tongue tied that she appeared to have no personality at all. Adam claimed she was funny and bright and a good student, and she was a pretty girl, small and curvy with dark curly hair and pink cheeks. He thought in another time and place she probably would have been a cheerleader, but instead she was on the tennis team. Adam had dragged him to one of her matches last spring, and as a result, Michael had observed that she was an intensely focused competitor, and that she really liked to win.
Over their late lunch after Adam’s soccer game, Nikita had managed to finally draw Tasha out by talking about the relative merits of various celebrity-designer fashion lines, beginning with tennis star Serena Williams’s. This had the effect of making Adam beam with pleasure, and he did everything he could to keep the conversational ball rolling. Michael, on the other hand, had been left out of the conversation entirely as he had no interest in tennis and no intention of revealing that he actually did know about several of the fashion lines in question, and had firm opinions about them. That would be to break character in every conceivable way. So, he was left to watch and smile and laugh at appropriate moments.
When they got back to the house Adam returned the keys to Nikita with a happy grin. “Thanks.”
“You’re ready to drive. Now all you need is practice.”
“I mean, for being so nice to Tasha. It’s usually kind of awkward, you know, her and dad and me. She’s not all that into hunting or soccer or stuff, so it’s hard to find things to talk about. Having another girl around, you know, who can relate to all that girl stuff.” Adam ducked his head and rolled his eyes a little in embarrassment, “it’s cool.”
Nikita smiled, one of her full smiles that made the corners of her mouth curl up. “No problem. My pleasure.” She dropped her jacket and bag on a kitchen chair. “Spending all that time in the sun made me tired. I’m going to go lie down for a little while.”
When Michael followed her upstairs a little later, he found her still awake, staring up at the ceiling with a hollow look in her eyes he recognized all too well. He dropped down to sit on the edge of their new platform bed, reaching out to stroke her hair off her forehead. “What’s wrong, Nikita?”
“Do you ever get disoriented, living like this after,” she paused, “living like we used to?”
“At first, it was almost constant.” He kept stroking her forehead, he knew her headaches were bothering her again, but now she didn’t like taking any medications for them, not even over the counter pills. “The only real cure was time. This life stopped seeming so strange, and started being ‘real’ and life before became more dreamlike.”
“You seem so comfortable here.” She closed her eyes, and shifted closer to him, which he took as a sign to keep smoothing her forehead. “Like you’ve always been here.”
“Just today I had to remind myself not to break character.”
Her eyes popped open. “What?”
“I think Serena Williams’s fashion line is ugly and unflattering even to her.”
Nikita snorted her laugh. “You would. You can be so French.”
“And I can’t use a single technique I know to make a young woman less nervous, which means my son’s girlfriend of the last year still turns into a mumbling nincompoop in my presence.”
Nikita rubbed his thigh comfortingly. “You are a scary man, Michael. A lot less scary now than before, but still, scary.”
“See? It gets easier, but the past never goes away.”
“I guess that was too much to hope for.”
She looked sad, which terrified him in ways he couldn’t define. “Close your eyes, and go to sleep. You’ll feel better when you wake up.”
“Lay down with me?”
Michael smiled, and kicked off his boots.
*****
Nikita woke up alone in the deepening twilight, her head muzzy and her mouth dry. She stretched under the blankets, smiling at the feel of the sheets sliding over her bare skin. She and Michael were going to have to have a serious conversation one of these days, one where she explained that just because she sometimes felt sad or worried did not mean she was going to up and leave him. Not that kissing him while tugging open his fly and wrapping her fingers around his cock and stroking until he was thrusting helplessly into her hand while trying to pull of her clothes wasn’t a deeply satisfying way of banishing the fear in his eyes, because, oh, it was. These days her whole body felt tight and swollen and she was hornier than ever. Left to arrange her own schedule as she saw fit, she would chose to do nothing but fuck, eat and sleep; a program that Michael was completely enthusiastic about and would have addressed his fears nicely. But it wasn’t easy or appropriate, given the daily routines he and Adam had already established before she showed up. So they were going to have to talk it out. One of these days.
When she got downstairs the lights were all off and the house felt empty, but tracking a faint noise took her down to the basement and Adam’s room, where she found him playing a computer game.
“Hey.”
Adam didn’t look up from his game, but at least he answered. “Hey.”
“Your dad around?”
“I think he went to the store.”
“Oh. Okay. You hungry?”
“He’s bringing home take out.”
“You think? Or you know?” It was out before she could stop it, and she cringed, inwardly, at how much it sounded like her old Operations self.
Adam looked up from his game, obviously startled and abashed by her tone. “I know. Chinese.”
Nikita smiled broadly, knowing it was forced but hoping it looked real. “Sorry. I’m getting hungry.”
To her surprise, Adam smiled back. “Me too.”
“Would you like to come upstairs and help me get the table ready?”
“Sure.” Adam pushed back from his desk and stood up, and Nikita told herself not to boggle at him.
While Adam was reaching for the plates, he asked in an artificially casual tone, “So, what did you think of Tasha?”
Between telling the truth and appealing to Adam’s good will it was no contest. “I think she’s great. She’s smart and funny and,” Nikita grinned, “very pretty!”
Adam looked pleased, even as he replied, “Dad doesn’t like her.”
Nikita hastily opened the silverware drawer so she had somewhere else to look. The gigantic warning flare Adam had just sent up was making her want to burst into wildly counter-productive giggles. “No, not at all. He just feels he doesn’t know her very well.”
“Oh, c’mon. He hardly speaks to her and she’s a nervous wreck around him because of it.”
Nikita did not want to be defending Michael to Adam, because she actually thought Michael was being a bit of an ass about Tasha, but she also knew that Adam would regard with contempt any attempt to ingratiate herself with him by criticizing his father. “Your dad knows he makes Tasha nervous, which just makes him feel more awkward around her, and when he feels awkward, he goes all stone faced and silent.’
Adam snorted. “Yeah, no kidding!” The table was laid for supper, so he came into the kitchen and propped himself up against the counter, folding his arms across his chest and crossing his ankles and looking very like his dad. “Was he always like that?”
Nikita shrugged and nodded. “As long as I’ve known him.”
Adam cocked his head at her. “So. He was your first boss?”
Nikita did her best to ignore how close the warning flares were getting, feeling that the opening Adam was offering worth the heat. She said, “Yeah. That’s right.”
“Workplace romance?”
She dropped into a kitchen chair and leaned her elbows on the table. “Something like that.”
“How come you didn’t know he was married?”
Nikita could not quite decide if the hard note in his tone was accusation or challenge. She equivocated. “Well - truth is - despite how much we thought we each knew about each other, there were big gaps. For both of us.”
Adam did not take up the invitation to shift the subject to what his dad had not known about her. Which was probably just as well, Nikita told herself later. Adam went on, “so, you met my mom.”
“Yeah. I did.” She wondered if this was really the point, maybe what Adam wanted was more information about Elena. “She was a really special lady, your mom.’
“What was she like?”
“I…”
“C’mon. I know you met her, and Dad once told me you liked her and she liked you.”
Nikita didn’t think Adam was devious enough to make up that kind of lie, especially one that was true, so she answered. “Yes. I did like her. A lot.” She smiled, remembering Elena and when she had first gotten to know her. “I don’t think anyone who knew her didn’t fall a little bit in love with her. She was,” Nikita paused, trying to find the right words. “Warm. She was incredibly warm. Everything about her, from the colors she liked to her voice to the way she welcomed people into her home and into her heart.”
Adam absorbed that in silence. It would have surprised Nikita if he could have come up with a response.
She went on, “you look a lot like her. You know that, right?”
“Well - I don’t really look like my dad.
Looking at a very tanned, dark-haired boy wearing a copy of Michael’s adolescent body made this comment seem very funny to Nikita. She snorted a little when she said, “Yeah. You do. You have your dad’s build, but your mom’s jaw and cheekbones. And her coloring too.”
“So, if everybody loved her, why didn’t my dad?”
Nikita was serious in an instant. “Oh Adam. He did love her. Very much.”
“But she wasn’t ‘his one’ - you are.”
That warning flare was so close Nikita felt a little fried, and knew it was time to cut and run. “You know, Adam, this is making me really uncomfortable. I don’t think I should be the one you ask about this. You should ask your dad.”
Adam flung out his arms. “Why - so he can answer with another question?”
Seizing the opportunity to redirect, Nikita grinned and said, “That’s a horrible habit, isn’t it? That way he looks down his nose at you when he says, ” She dropped her voice to mimic Michael’s still faintly accented English, “why do you ask?” In her own voice she continued, “it used to drive me half wild.”
Adam launched himself away from the counter to circle the small kitchen, flailing his arms as he went. “Used to? Oh my God, he did it at lunch today! It drives me freaking crazy, right now!”
Nikita grinned again and shrugged. “Well - there’s always the ‘stare over your shoulder while he decides if the question is too stupid to even respond to’ face.”
After the briefest of start of shocked understanding, Adam laughed and cried, “Oh my God! That one’s even better when he taps his lips….”
And then he folded his arms across his chest and performed such an excellent and uncanny mimicry of Michael doing that very thing that Nikita started laughing too. She added, acting it out as she described it, “Or when he does that little disappointed sigh and drop in his shoulders before he finally answers….”
Adam rolled his eyes and nodded vigorously as he laughed even harder, “Oh man. That one!”
“What’s so funny?” Michael’s question, as he walked in with the take out food bags, only sent Adam and Nikita into fresh gales of laughter.
*****
Fandom: La Femme Nikita
Pairing: Michael Samuelle/Nikita Wirth
Characters: Michael Samuelle, Adam Samuelle, Nikita Wirth, OCs
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Post Series Fic
Length: 40,300 words
Chapter: 3/9
Summary: "When Michael first saw Nikita standing on his front porch, his whole world splintered and then, between one step and the next, remade itself."
Part 1, Living the Normal Life, can be found here
Balance Requires Motion, Chapter 1
Balance Requires Motion, Chapter 2
****
Three weeks after her arrival in Minnesota, Nikita stepped into their bedroom and closed the door behind her, pushing it until the latch clicked. At the sound, Michael looked up from getting dressed. She tossed him the positive pregnancy stick, which he caught effortlessly. She said, “good work.”
He examined the little stick for a second or two, and then he set it down on the dresser and looked up at her. His eyes were bright with pleasure and his full lips were quirking into a smile, but what he said was, “your arrival was well timed.”
Nikita laughed then, feeling light with happiness, and crossed the room to step into his open arms. “Fertility Awareness Method. I knew I was going to ovulate about two days after I got here. It’s all the rage in the pre-pregnant sites on the internet.”
He hugged her tight, which was more reassuring than anything he could have said. “Still, first time?”
“I know.” She kissed him, hard. “I was telling myself not to panic even if it took a year, or never at all.”
He put his hands on the sides of her face, examining her carefully. “Would that have been so horrible?”
She planted a kiss on his palm before laying his hand against her cheek. This was another thing she had thought about often, in the dark of the night. “It would have been hard, after everything, to let go of that dream.” She caught his eye again. “But, you and I? We’re survivors, Michael. We would have come through it.”
“I’m sorry Adam has-“
She kissed him, cutting him off. “He has had you entirely to himself for a long time. I expected it to be difficult.”
She had also been foolish enough to hope it would not be as difficult as it was proving to be, that the open and loving little boy of her memory would be willing to love her still, but any disappointment was her own fault, and she knew it. In any case, she thought she was making some headway in earning Adam’s friendship now.
She was overseeing the work on the basement remodeling. Michael had called in a number of favors, and laid out markers for more, to get their project squeezed to the top of the schedule for all the different tradesmen required, carpenters, plumbers, and electricians. But Michael went to work each day with Adam, and then Adam was at soccer practice all afternoon, every afternoon, leaving Nikita in charge at the house. This meant that each evening, she was the one who led Adam through the day’s progress, and she believed that the pleasure he shared with her as his new bedroom took shape was genuine.
The work was going quickly enough that they hoped that his bedroom, at least, if not the bathroom, would be ready for him to move into before the first day of the school year, which was in another week.
The project had also grown, as remodeling projects are wont to do, and they were finishing off the entire basement, not just a bedroom and bathroom. One thing had led to another. The tiny kitchen table was barely big enough for three people at breakfast and there was no room for a bigger one, but laptops, a printer and the stacks of miscellaneous paper that cluttered Adam and Michael’s lives had long ago swallowed the dining room table. To reclaim that for eating, Michael needed a new work area. Adam suggested his room, but Nikita had been quick to propose a basement office instead and Michael as quickly agreed. Before Adam could ask any probing questions about the fate of his not-quite-old bedroom, Nikita had elaborated the office into an office/den/basement entertainment area - and the prospect of the gaming TV and consoles having their own permanent, glare-free home was too delicious for Adam to waste any more time talking about such dull issues as an empty upstairs bedroom.
Nikita also believed that she had scored points with Adam in her choice of a car. As things had worked out, she and Michael had not managed to go car shopping until one day after work during her first week in St. Paul. Adam ended up coming with them after all, lured by the promise of dinner at a favorite restaurant. As they walked through lines of ‘lightly-used’ small SUVs, Adam kept glancing at smaller, sportier cars. That was out of the question for a number of reasons, but after watching him she realized part of the attraction was he wanted to drive a manual shift. He had been driving with his dad on a learner’s permit for almost three months, anxiously waiting for his sixteenth birthday and his provisional driver’s license. Michael’s SUV was an automatic and a couple of comments later, Nikita understood that Adam regarded manual transmissions with all the fascination an inexperienced fifteen year old who had watched The Fast and the Furious too many times could muster. After a quick, non-verbal exchange with Michael, she switched to looking at various four-wheel drive station wagons and hybrids, with manual shifts. The one she picked out was a boring and respectable dark blue, but at least had leather seats and an mp3 player jack; and it had a manual transmission.
Nikita was taking Adam out by herself to teach him how to use the gearshift and the clutch, and so she thought she was earning Adam’s approval for that as well. She had definitely earned his praise for her music collection. He had been quite surprised to learn that Michael had taught Nikita how to drive a car, though, and she had to scramble fast when she realized that Michael had not made it clear to Adam just how long she and Michael had known each other. After that she kept an even more careful guard against any stray references to her past with Michael, which turned out to be easier than she anticipated as Adam ostentatiously refused to ask her any questions about herself or her history.
However, each step forward seemed to bring a half step, or more, back. In general Adam was as soft spoken and polite as Michael, which was hardly surprising. So, with the exception of an unusual slip followed by an intense confrontation with his father in the privacy of the backyard, he was not openly rude to her. But he could, and did, seize on any chance to freeze her out from inserting herself into any activity that he was used to enjoying exclusively with Michael. As this meant, more or less, anything and everything they did together, up to and including work, there had been a lot of evenings when Adam had proposed something, had her and Michael take him up on the idea, only to have Adam change his mind due to obvious disappointment that Nikita would be included. Nights like that he usually left the house with his neighborhood friends or retreated to his room and his ever-louder music. Sometimes Nikita urged Michael to go with Adam and leave her home alone, but, predictably, that never really satisfied anyone either.
Adam could also be clever about finding ways to block her out. That first weekend he had managed to work the conversation around to religious faith, and when she told him in response to a direct question that she was an atheist, he triumphantly announced that in that case, she could not possibly want to join their Catholic parish. Which, in many ways, was quite true. But she was determined to respect their participation in whatever community they had created for themselves. However, Michael intervened at that point and mildly told Adam that he, Michael, was also an atheist and that he had been one for all of his adult life. To which Adam had said, “Fine! Take her side!” and flung himself out of the room.
She did not join them for Sunday mass, that week or in the three weeks since.
When she had expressed enthusiasm for sailing with them, saying to Michael, “I’ve really missed sailing. I haven’t been since you left,” Adam started dramatically, stared at his father, and then exclaimed, “Oh my God! You bought the boat because of her, didn’t you?!” and then, flung himself out of the room.
The second weekend after her arrival, she had suggested going out to hear some live music, she had been reading about the Minneapolis music scene and was interested in checking it out. Adam curled his lip and assured them he had better things to do. But, at breakfast the next day when he realized they had gone to a couple of bars in the heart of the new music district and heard some locally popular bands, he scowled, pouted, declared, “I didn’t know you were going to hear cool music! Thanks for telling me!” and, yes, flung himself out of the room.
He would not even discuss going to the dojo with them, merely staring in mute horror before fleeing.
So, she and Michael went sailing, went out to hear music, and went to the dojo without Adam.
Which was great for her and Michael. It gave them time to reconnect, to fill in all that had happened during their years apart, to enjoy being in a place and time where they did not have to shield their love or hide their affection. It also gave them the opportunity to remember what irked them. Michael refused, for the most part, to talk about how he felt about Adam’s behavior, preferring to stew in frustrated irritation and guilt. Her impulse to defend Adam on the few occasions that Michael did make a critical comment earned her narrowed eyes and abrupt changes of subject.
As a result, it was easy for them to agree to say nothing to Adam about her pregnancy until they were sure all was going well, and after Adam had had more time to come to terms with the first round of changes in his life.
*****
Adam moved into his new bedroom the weekend before tenth grade started. It still smelled of new carpet and new paint despite the new window opened wide, but the smell faded in the reality of the total awesomeness of his new space. The walls were a bright clear blue, setting off the light blond wood finish of the new furniture, and his framed prints and posters that filed the walls. He hadn’t thought frames were necessary, but Nikita had pushed him into it by taking one of his favorites to be framed while he was at work, and it did look really good. The flexible-track lighting Nikita had found was way cool too, and even the twisted-wire mobile he had grudgingly accepted from Nikita as a gift looked really sharp, spinning lightly in the breeze from the open window.
It was a huge relief to crawl into his new bed that night without his music blaring. He didn’t really like extra noise at night, it made it hard for him to sleep, but knowing his dad and Nikita were fucking like crazed monkeys right across the hall and the horror that he might hear something, anything, of that had been enough to keep the music on.
Now he could listen to the familiar quiet night noises he preferred. The wind in the pine trees in the backyard, the tree frogs, the odd call from a night bird, the sound of the dogs nails’ clicking on the vinyl floor as they moved around the kitchen where they slept, these were the sounds that comforted him and made him feel safe.
Because he finally had some peace and quiet, here in his new room, he could review the dizzying changes of the last month. First of all, having the hottest older woman he had ever seen in real life show up and move in to his very own home with no warning at all was one of the most disorienting things he had ever experienced, not excluding the hazily remembered months after his mother’s death, or the terror and confusion of his kidnapping.
It also explained why his dad had not really been all that broken-up about Marie dumping him, either time. Marie was nice enough and all, and pretty in a geeky way, but, man, she had nothing on Nikita.
Nikita was tall, as tall as his dad and, to his total irritation, slightly taller than Adam was, and slim and blond and ripped. He had watched her come in from a run and drop and do four sets each of fifty crunches and fifty pushups, all with barely a change in her breathing. He had the strongest feeling that if he did go to one of their late night sessions at the dojo, Nikita would kick his ass, no problem. He wasn’t ready for that, so he wasn’t going.
All that was hard enough, but worst, without doubt, was the pheromones flying around the house. Nikita and his dad stank of sex. Not really literally, of course, his dad was too polite for anything like that, and Nikita was way careful around him too. But metaphorically, oh man, they did. As a result, he had what felt like a constant semi-hard-on whenever he was with them, or knew they were anywhere near by, doing all that they did when they thought he wasn’t watching. Which was sometimes true, and sometimes not.
It was making him twitchy and short tempered. He had jerked off so much just to keep some ability to control himself the rest of the time that he was sure he had damn near strained his elbow. If his girlfriend Tasha had been in town, there might have been other kinds of relief available, but she was away with her family until school started. He and Tasha had started having sex in the spring, but once school closed for the summer and he spent most of his time with his dad, he and Tasha had a lot of trouble finding a time and place to get naked. They had had to settle for a lot of making out in cars belonging to friends.
Adam also knew that his dad and Nikita loved each other. Any fool could see it. It was in everything they did; the way they checked in with each other about everything, they way they talked without words, they way they touched just the tips of each other’s fingers when other people were around in a really sweet, if utter fail, attempt to keep people from imagining them doing the nasty, in the smiles they exchanged, in the way their faces softened when they watched each other work around the house.
He knew, in his head, that he was glad for his dad. His dad had always been a solitary kind of guy, even when he had a steady girlfriend in Marie, and Adam had always seen it, known it, and felt a little guilty for being the cause of his dad walking out on whatever life he’d had, before. His dad was a cool guy, and he deserved a shot at being in love with a gorgeous woman who loved him back. And Nikita was cool, too. As cool as his dad, even. Too cool for comfort really.
In his heart, though, Adam could not let go of the knowledge that Nikita was the other woman, the woman his dad had chosen over his mom, Elena, and even over Adam himself. That his mom had been dead for almost ten years and he could barely remember her somehow did not matter at all. He remembered his mother’s tears, and he remembered the months of loneliness between her death and his dad’s re-appearance, and he thought he might hate them for what they did. Even when he knew that they hadn’t really done it at all, the terrorists had.
All together, he was really glad to have his own room in the basement, as far away from them as he could get in this small house.
****
Adam cleared his throat, remembered his courage, and said, “So, um, dad. How long is Nicole going to stay with us?”
His father finished the edging stroke he was working on before he turned to face Adam. They were painting a dining room in a fancy condo in one of the downtown neighborhoods. School started the next day, but his dad was short handed again because the college students had all left for the fall term already, so Adam was helping him out this morning.
“Why do you ask?”
What Adam thought of saying was that he might actually hate Nikita, unfair as it was, for coming and messing up his life, and that he wanted her gone, like, yesterday. What he said was, “dad.”
His father’s lips twitched into the smallest of smiles. “Okay.” His dad’s expression grew serious. “We don’t have a formal plan or agreement. But, Nicole and I, we have been waiting a long time to be together. I hope to be with her for the rest of my life.”
“Just like that.”
“It’s not ‘just like that.’ It’s the result of years of thinking and planning.”
“I wasn’t part of all that.”
“You were a child. And it wasn’t about you.”
“So, my opinion doesn’t matter, at all?”
“Your opinion? No.” The casual way his dad dismissed him was infuriating.
Before Adam could say anything, though, his dad went on. “Your safety was everything. It still is. But your opinion of my relationship with Nicole was not relevant.”
Adam also hated the way his dad was always so careful to use her new name, and got really pissy about it if Adam ever forgot.
His dad shrugged. “I had hoped you would not be so hostile. When you were small, you seemed to like her a lot. She really likes you.” His dad’s expression flickered from serious to sharp and disapproving. “Even now, when you’re not giving her much reason to.”
“She’s not my mom.”
“No.” His dad’s brows drew together in a frown. “I wasn’t aware that she has tried to be.”
She hadn’t and Adam knew it, but he plunged on anyway. “And I don’t have to do what she says.”
The sharpness in his dad’s eyes turned fierce and, somehow at the same time, terrifying. “If our safety, if your safety is ever at stake, you will do exactly as she tells you. Without question or hesitation.”
Adam felt his jaw drop in shock at his father’s intensity. Before he could gather his suddenly scattered wits, his dad went on.
“Short of that,” and here his dad smiled quickly and, Adam was certain, the expression in his eyes turned faintly mocking, “I can’t imagine that she would be so foolish as to tell you to do anything at all.”
Adam could not think of a single response that did not make him sound, and feel, like a thwarted eleven year old, so after a beat or two, he turned back to his paint tray. He said aloud, “I’m going to Tasha’s for dinner tonight.” And made a note to himself to call Tasha and arrange it as soon as he could.
******
“Want to drive?” Nikita held up the car keys and smiled at Adam as the four of them, Adam, Adam’s girlfriend Tasha, Nikita, and Michael walked out of the restaurant and into the afternoon sunshine.
Adam’s face lit up. “Really?”
“Got your permit with you?”
“Yep!”
“Catch.”
Nikita tossed Adam the keys, then turned to catch Michael’s eye and grinned happily at him. Michael smiled back, swallowing his flicker of resentment that she should have made the offer to Adam without checking with him first. He told himself, again, that he wanted Nikita and Adam’s relationship to develop into something strong and positive for both of them. That he wanted their relationship to exist independently of him, Michael. That he didn’t want to be the only thing that allowed them to be in the same space willingly. He reminded himself that the most exhausting aspect of dating Marie had been being stuck in the position of mediator between two antagonistic parties.
So, he had almost succeeded in beating down the resentment when they got to Nikita’s car and he realized that Adam and Nikita both assumed he would ride in the backseat with Tasha. He was reduced to shaming himself into a smile by pointing out to himself that he was reacting like a moody adolescent. For example, like the one who was currently grinning like a madman as he settled into the driver’s seat and began conscientiously and self-consciously adjusting the seat and the mirrors.
Adam only stalled the car out once, when he first put it in gear, and after that, while he was a bit jerky moving from a stop into first gear at stoplights and stop signs, he drove pretty well. Michael still wasn’t sure he would have judged Adam ready to handle so many passengers and a manual shift at the same time, but he was prepared to acknowledge that he might be more cautious than was really necessary.
He glanced over at Tasha. Knowing she would be sixteen a few months after Adam, he asked, “Have you started driving too?”
She flashed him a nervous smile. “A little. In the country this summer.”
Tasha dropped her eyes, probably hoping he would not ask her any more questions. She was always like that, nervous and uncomfortable around him. He, of course, knew at least a dozen different ways to get a very young woman’s attention, but none of them were remotely parental in approach or intent and he was appalled that he even remembered what they were when he was around her.
He had given up expecting that she would get less nervous around him after she and Adam had been seeing each other for several months without any change, but he was hoping that with Nikita in the mix, Tasha might, finally, relax enough so that he could figure out what Adam liked about her. Not that she was unlikable, exactly, just that in his presence she was usually so tongue tied that she appeared to have no personality at all. Adam claimed she was funny and bright and a good student, and she was a pretty girl, small and curvy with dark curly hair and pink cheeks. He thought in another time and place she probably would have been a cheerleader, but instead she was on the tennis team. Adam had dragged him to one of her matches last spring, and as a result, Michael had observed that she was an intensely focused competitor, and that she really liked to win.
Over their late lunch after Adam’s soccer game, Nikita had managed to finally draw Tasha out by talking about the relative merits of various celebrity-designer fashion lines, beginning with tennis star Serena Williams’s. This had the effect of making Adam beam with pleasure, and he did everything he could to keep the conversational ball rolling. Michael, on the other hand, had been left out of the conversation entirely as he had no interest in tennis and no intention of revealing that he actually did know about several of the fashion lines in question, and had firm opinions about them. That would be to break character in every conceivable way. So, he was left to watch and smile and laugh at appropriate moments.
When they got back to the house Adam returned the keys to Nikita with a happy grin. “Thanks.”
“You’re ready to drive. Now all you need is practice.”
“I mean, for being so nice to Tasha. It’s usually kind of awkward, you know, her and dad and me. She’s not all that into hunting or soccer or stuff, so it’s hard to find things to talk about. Having another girl around, you know, who can relate to all that girl stuff.” Adam ducked his head and rolled his eyes a little in embarrassment, “it’s cool.”
Nikita smiled, one of her full smiles that made the corners of her mouth curl up. “No problem. My pleasure.” She dropped her jacket and bag on a kitchen chair. “Spending all that time in the sun made me tired. I’m going to go lie down for a little while.”
When Michael followed her upstairs a little later, he found her still awake, staring up at the ceiling with a hollow look in her eyes he recognized all too well. He dropped down to sit on the edge of their new platform bed, reaching out to stroke her hair off her forehead. “What’s wrong, Nikita?”
“Do you ever get disoriented, living like this after,” she paused, “living like we used to?”
“At first, it was almost constant.” He kept stroking her forehead, he knew her headaches were bothering her again, but now she didn’t like taking any medications for them, not even over the counter pills. “The only real cure was time. This life stopped seeming so strange, and started being ‘real’ and life before became more dreamlike.”
“You seem so comfortable here.” She closed her eyes, and shifted closer to him, which he took as a sign to keep smoothing her forehead. “Like you’ve always been here.”
“Just today I had to remind myself not to break character.”
Her eyes popped open. “What?”
“I think Serena Williams’s fashion line is ugly and unflattering even to her.”
Nikita snorted her laugh. “You would. You can be so French.”
“And I can’t use a single technique I know to make a young woman less nervous, which means my son’s girlfriend of the last year still turns into a mumbling nincompoop in my presence.”
Nikita rubbed his thigh comfortingly. “You are a scary man, Michael. A lot less scary now than before, but still, scary.”
“See? It gets easier, but the past never goes away.”
“I guess that was too much to hope for.”
She looked sad, which terrified him in ways he couldn’t define. “Close your eyes, and go to sleep. You’ll feel better when you wake up.”
“Lay down with me?”
Michael smiled, and kicked off his boots.
*****
Nikita woke up alone in the deepening twilight, her head muzzy and her mouth dry. She stretched under the blankets, smiling at the feel of the sheets sliding over her bare skin. She and Michael were going to have to have a serious conversation one of these days, one where she explained that just because she sometimes felt sad or worried did not mean she was going to up and leave him. Not that kissing him while tugging open his fly and wrapping her fingers around his cock and stroking until he was thrusting helplessly into her hand while trying to pull of her clothes wasn’t a deeply satisfying way of banishing the fear in his eyes, because, oh, it was. These days her whole body felt tight and swollen and she was hornier than ever. Left to arrange her own schedule as she saw fit, she would chose to do nothing but fuck, eat and sleep; a program that Michael was completely enthusiastic about and would have addressed his fears nicely. But it wasn’t easy or appropriate, given the daily routines he and Adam had already established before she showed up. So they were going to have to talk it out. One of these days.
When she got downstairs the lights were all off and the house felt empty, but tracking a faint noise took her down to the basement and Adam’s room, where she found him playing a computer game.
“Hey.”
Adam didn’t look up from his game, but at least he answered. “Hey.”
“Your dad around?”
“I think he went to the store.”
“Oh. Okay. You hungry?”
“He’s bringing home take out.”
“You think? Or you know?” It was out before she could stop it, and she cringed, inwardly, at how much it sounded like her old Operations self.
Adam looked up from his game, obviously startled and abashed by her tone. “I know. Chinese.”
Nikita smiled broadly, knowing it was forced but hoping it looked real. “Sorry. I’m getting hungry.”
To her surprise, Adam smiled back. “Me too.”
“Would you like to come upstairs and help me get the table ready?”
“Sure.” Adam pushed back from his desk and stood up, and Nikita told herself not to boggle at him.
While Adam was reaching for the plates, he asked in an artificially casual tone, “So, what did you think of Tasha?”
Between telling the truth and appealing to Adam’s good will it was no contest. “I think she’s great. She’s smart and funny and,” Nikita grinned, “very pretty!”
Adam looked pleased, even as he replied, “Dad doesn’t like her.”
Nikita hastily opened the silverware drawer so she had somewhere else to look. The gigantic warning flare Adam had just sent up was making her want to burst into wildly counter-productive giggles. “No, not at all. He just feels he doesn’t know her very well.”
“Oh, c’mon. He hardly speaks to her and she’s a nervous wreck around him because of it.”
Nikita did not want to be defending Michael to Adam, because she actually thought Michael was being a bit of an ass about Tasha, but she also knew that Adam would regard with contempt any attempt to ingratiate herself with him by criticizing his father. “Your dad knows he makes Tasha nervous, which just makes him feel more awkward around her, and when he feels awkward, he goes all stone faced and silent.’
Adam snorted. “Yeah, no kidding!” The table was laid for supper, so he came into the kitchen and propped himself up against the counter, folding his arms across his chest and crossing his ankles and looking very like his dad. “Was he always like that?”
Nikita shrugged and nodded. “As long as I’ve known him.”
Adam cocked his head at her. “So. He was your first boss?”
Nikita did her best to ignore how close the warning flares were getting, feeling that the opening Adam was offering worth the heat. She said, “Yeah. That’s right.”
“Workplace romance?”
She dropped into a kitchen chair and leaned her elbows on the table. “Something like that.”
“How come you didn’t know he was married?”
Nikita could not quite decide if the hard note in his tone was accusation or challenge. She equivocated. “Well - truth is - despite how much we thought we each knew about each other, there were big gaps. For both of us.”
Adam did not take up the invitation to shift the subject to what his dad had not known about her. Which was probably just as well, Nikita told herself later. Adam went on, “so, you met my mom.”
“Yeah. I did.” She wondered if this was really the point, maybe what Adam wanted was more information about Elena. “She was a really special lady, your mom.’
“What was she like?”
“I…”
“C’mon. I know you met her, and Dad once told me you liked her and she liked you.”
Nikita didn’t think Adam was devious enough to make up that kind of lie, especially one that was true, so she answered. “Yes. I did like her. A lot.” She smiled, remembering Elena and when she had first gotten to know her. “I don’t think anyone who knew her didn’t fall a little bit in love with her. She was,” Nikita paused, trying to find the right words. “Warm. She was incredibly warm. Everything about her, from the colors she liked to her voice to the way she welcomed people into her home and into her heart.”
Adam absorbed that in silence. It would have surprised Nikita if he could have come up with a response.
She went on, “you look a lot like her. You know that, right?”
“Well - I don’t really look like my dad.
Looking at a very tanned, dark-haired boy wearing a copy of Michael’s adolescent body made this comment seem very funny to Nikita. She snorted a little when she said, “Yeah. You do. You have your dad’s build, but your mom’s jaw and cheekbones. And her coloring too.”
“So, if everybody loved her, why didn’t my dad?”
Nikita was serious in an instant. “Oh Adam. He did love her. Very much.”
“But she wasn’t ‘his one’ - you are.”
That warning flare was so close Nikita felt a little fried, and knew it was time to cut and run. “You know, Adam, this is making me really uncomfortable. I don’t think I should be the one you ask about this. You should ask your dad.”
Adam flung out his arms. “Why - so he can answer with another question?”
Seizing the opportunity to redirect, Nikita grinned and said, “That’s a horrible habit, isn’t it? That way he looks down his nose at you when he says, ” She dropped her voice to mimic Michael’s still faintly accented English, “why do you ask?” In her own voice she continued, “it used to drive me half wild.”
Adam launched himself away from the counter to circle the small kitchen, flailing his arms as he went. “Used to? Oh my God, he did it at lunch today! It drives me freaking crazy, right now!”
Nikita grinned again and shrugged. “Well - there’s always the ‘stare over your shoulder while he decides if the question is too stupid to even respond to’ face.”
After the briefest of start of shocked understanding, Adam laughed and cried, “Oh my God! That one’s even better when he taps his lips….”
And then he folded his arms across his chest and performed such an excellent and uncanny mimicry of Michael doing that very thing that Nikita started laughing too. She added, acting it out as she described it, “Or when he does that little disappointed sigh and drop in his shoulders before he finally answers….”
Adam rolled his eyes and nodded vigorously as he laughed even harder, “Oh man. That one!”
“What’s so funny?” Michael’s question, as he walked in with the take out food bags, only sent Adam and Nikita into fresh gales of laughter.
*****