Page 100 of Golden Eagle

“What?”

“Trina and Lanny. They have to sort out their differences by themselves. You can’t fix their relationship for them.”

Nikita could feel that the face he made wasn’t friendly or attractive, though Sasha smiled in response, sunshine-bright.

“You know you can’t.”

“I know,” he groused. But, though his hand tightened on his pack of smokes, he didn’t crave one as badly. Sasha’s laugh filled him with a warmth that eased the endless, shaking anxiety inside him. It always had, but he’d always forced his gaze away too soon, worried he’d give himself away, that he wasn’t allowed to have this.

He let out a breath and felt lighter for it. “I know,” he repeated.

Sasha cast his smile out across the street and pressed their shoulders together. “I think it’s sweet. She’s your family and you’re worried about her.”

“You’remy family.”

“I know,” he said easily. “But she’s family by blood. She’s…” He hesitated. “You didn’t get to ever see your…”Your baby,he didn’t say. Not until a few months ago, when he was already an old man. When he didn’t even need Nikita anymore. Never had, really, not with Pyotr doing such a good job.

His stomach tightened in the old familiar way – but not as painfully. They’d all been fine without him, probably even better off. And now he knew what happiness tasted like, and he had a chance with Trina – to be of use to the family he’d never known before.

An idea started to coalesce. He didn’t give voice to it, not yet, but he leaned into the place where he and Sasha touched, and Sasha leaned back, and that was alright for now.

~*~

She’d been in this interrogation room countless times.

It was funny how something as simple as sitting on the opposite side of the table could change the entire landscape.

She wasn’t panicking, though. Wasn’t worried. Didn’t feel anything, actually. A professional sort of numbness, one she’d donned like a shield and which settled over her heavily. Impenetrable.

They’d left the door open, to make things look casual. But through it, she could glimpse Detective Romero leaned back against the wall, shoulders slouched, chewing gum, gaze hooded. She’d seen him look like that through the one-way mirror before, when she was observing one of his interrogations.

Delgado entered, bearing two steaming cups of coffee. Precinct mugs, and not the disposable paper they gave to actual suspects. “Here we go,” he said cheerfully, setting one down in front of her. He’d remembered she liked lots of cream.

He settled in across from her, smoothing his tie, situating the chair. Like with Romero, all movements she knew well. Little professional tics.

“We’re waiting for Abbot?” she asked. Couldn’t imbue any sort of animation into her voice.

“Oh, well.” He shrugged and looked nervous. “You know how it is. IAB wants to send somebody. Gotta go through all the paperwork. That dumb shit.” He shrugged, but his smile didn’t go all the way on both sides.

She nodded.

“He was chasing you?” he asked. And he sounded so casual, like her friend and fellow detective asking a simple question.

But she was in this room, and nothing said here would be taken casually.

Silence fell.

Delgado jiggled one leg, keys and change rattling in his pocket, and glanced at her surreptitiously like he thought she might fill that silence.

She didn’t.

And then she heard the yelling.

“Fuck you, no–” Lanny’s unmistakable voice said.

Romero pushed off the wall, hands-up. “Hey,” he said, “hey, she’s–” His back slammed into the wall, the breath leaving his lungs in a hard rush.

Lanny had shoved him.

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