“No more suicide missions. No matter what. That goes for both of us.”
Nikita petted his hair some more. Faintly: “Alright.”
“Nik?”
“Hmm?”
“Will they come after us? Vlad, he–” A shiver stole through his body.
“No,bratishka. They won’t.”
Another silence fell, this one peaceful, warm with the comfort of closeness.
“Nik?” Sasha asked after a while, as an idea struck. “What happened to Val?”
Nikita stiffened, just a moment, one second of pause, and then his fingers continued sliding through Sasha’s hair, down around the curve of his skull. But that pause was all Sasha needed to know.
“He didn’t get out, did he?” A sweeping sadness filled Sasha like a wave.
“He might have, we don’t know,” Nikita hedged.
“But you don’t think he did.”
Nikita sighed. “I think it isn’t likely.”
Sasha whimpered.
“He made his own decision,” Nikita said, firmly. “I went there for you, not him, and he knew that.”
“Nik. Val’s the one who told me how to turn you – to save you. He’s the reason we’re here now, together.”
“Oh,” Nikita said. And then again, when it had fully sunk in. “Oh.”
“Maybe he’s alright,” Sasha murmured into the collar of his friend’s sweater.
But he didn’t believe that.
~*~
Trina stirred sugar into her coffee with lazy movements and didn’t glance up until the man who’d taken the seat across from her cleared his throat.
“Oh.” She feigned slow surprise, and lifted her head to greet him with a smirk. “Hello, Dr. Fowler.” Inwardly, she heaved a sigh of relief. Up ‘til this moment, she’d seriously thought he might turn up with his feral wolves or a handful of armed guards.
But it was just him, looking harried and put-out.
He smoothed his hands down the thighs of his slacks beneath the table, and it looked like a nervous gesture. “Detective Baskin,” he said, tone clipped. “It seems like you’ve been busy.”
“Hmm,” she hummed, noncommittal. “Is a cop ever not busy?”
His mouth tightened, tugging harshly to one side. His voice came out an angry hiss. “The damage you’ve caused, you and yourfriends–”
She held up a finger, and he fell into a sputtering silence. “Before you go off on an angry supervillain tirade, let me introduce my friend Jamie to you.”
On cue, Jamie stood up from the table behind her and sat down to her left. He set his laptop on the table, turned it toward Dr. Fowler, and clicked Play.
“You’re going to want to watch this,” Trina said. “Though I imagine you’ve seen it before.”
Though reluctantly, Dr. Fowler’s eyes went to the screen…and then widened. He made a shocked, outraged sound that he quickly smothered with the hand he pressed over his mouth.
