Page 248 of Golden Eagle

Lanny threw in one of his more reassuring smiles.

Harvey considered them a long, long moment. Her mouth twitched to the side, like she’d made up her mind, but wasn’t happy about it. “What would I have to do?”

~*~

Nikita stood in front of his open closet and contemplated the clothes hanging on the rack. There weren’t all that many, and most were dark t-shirts and even darker jeans. He owned only two pairs of shoes, both combat boots, one pair taller than the other. A few sweaters and hoodies were folded on the upper shelves. His regular denim jacket was out on the peg just inside the front door. In here, he had a thick, down-filled parka that he rarely wore – winters in New York never reached Russia levels of cold.

And, zippered up in its garment bag, hidden from casual view, was the jacket he probably should have burned a long time ago, but never had. The long black leather coat he’d worn as a Chekist; that he’d worn on the rescue mission to Virginia.

Warm arms circled his waist, and Sasha pressed in close behind him, bare-chested, throwing off heat like a furnace. He hooked his chin over Nikita’s shoulder, having to get on his tip-toes to do it, and joined him in staring into the closet. “Hmm,” he hummed. “The olive sweater, I think, and black jeans.”

Nikita pressed a hand over one of Sasha’s, where it rested on his belly, huffing out a quiet laugh through his nose. “You want me to look my best while invading?”

“And to be warm.” He kissed the side of his throat. “What about the jacket?”

Nikita didn’t have to ask which one he meant. He stiffened, and Sasha hugged him tighter. “What about it?”

Sasha hesitated a moment, with the air of someone choosing his words carefully. “The thing about the jacket is–”

“It looks good,” Nikita managed to tease, remembering what he’d said last night.

“Well, yeah.” There was a blush in Sasha’s voice. “But…I never associated that coat with you being Cheka. When you wore it, it wasyours.”

“That coat scares people.”

“So do you,” Sasha said, very gently.

And Nikita thought, maybe, finally, he was starting to understand.

He pushed the other clothes aside, and reached for the garment bag.

~*~

On the other side of the wall, Anna heard the low murmur of voices. “They’re awake,” she announced, unnecessarily.

Fulk sheathed his old cavalry saber with a quiet hiss and click, and stepped back from their spare bed, where he’d laid out their weapons in orderly rows. They’d lugged them around in boxes and bags in the trunk of the Cadillac for decades – and in wagons before cars were invented – but it was always a bit of a revelation to see them arranged in the open like this. To think of the violence they’d wrought over the centuries.

“We should get dressed, then,” he said, distracted, face tautly drawn. Then he came and knelt down in front of her, his hands on her thighs, expression miserable when he looked up at her.

“Baby,” she said.

“I’m sorry, love.”

“Oh, don’t do this,” she pleaded, covering his hands with hers. “Baby, it’sfine. You don’t have to keep apologizing for this.”

His expression went mulish. “But I’ve dragged you into more fighting, into–”

She put a hand over his mouth, and his brows lifted. “No, stop,” she said, gently, “I’m sick of this. We both knew the second we got that first call from Dr. Talbot that we were gonna end up fighting at some point. Is it your fault for loving me? Marrying me? I’m here with you ‘cause I want to be. We both went into that cell and got bound to Val of our own free will, and we both love him – you know you do, even if you won’t admit it. This is where we’re at, now. This is the way things are. We don’t do anyone – not even ourselves – any good crying about it.”

When she pulled her hand back, he frowned, but didn’t argue.

“We got a lot of good years traveling, and seeing the sights, and not doing much of anything. I loved it, but I love you more than I love the quiet life. We’re a part of this now.” She reached up to touch his temple. “It’s time you got right in the head about it.”

He sighed, one corner of his mouth twitching up in a smile. “Always straight to the point, no frills.”

“Honey, you’ve got frills enough for both of us. Somebody’s got to be the practical one.”

He reached up to touch her face, loving and reverent. “I adore you.”

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