A/N: In BU Jason Bourne tells Dr Hirsch that he's spent 3 years not knowing who he is… so I'm just going to assume that BU took place in February 2005. I've also taken it that NP was JB's handler soon after the Neski assignment in 1999.

I also feel it is only fair for me to add that this fic was inspired by the great works I read by, Red Burn, Stormin' Mormon, Random Little Writer, Teal Moon (I'm in love with her fic, if you're reading this please update soon), CrazyRodeoGirl, Fire Element 13, inuyasharbd, ghostlcards, and dresswithoutsleeves to name a few. I must confess I have reviews written for all your stories but my internet access is sketchy so I write them at home and post them bit by bit when the WWW gods are behaving. Which is almost never.


Nicolette Parsons stared at the white stick in uncomprehending shock. Okay, she understood that the two pink lines meant positive. They meant something in her body was positively in a state of being. What she could not understand how this moment was actually happening to her. Correction, she knew about the birds and the bees, what she didn't understand was how one night of drug induced euphoria and mind-blowing sex could come back to her haunt four months later in this way. In fact she was pretty sure that in all the possible ways she had thought that night would come back to haunt her, this was in none of her imagined scenarios. Proof that at the age of 21 years and 4 months she still had a lot to learn about life.

Okay so if nothing else this whole 'positive' thing established she was a little more naïve than she had realized but that didn't change the fact the 3rd pregnancy test she had taken today was telling her that in 5 months time she was going to pay for her night of sex, drugs and rock and roll with labor and waters breaking and contractions and crying and screaming… and a baby. She did not even want to think about what Conklin would do to her when he found out that not only was his top logistics technician and Paris handler pregnant but by his best asset too. Nicky fought and failed to suppress the frisson of fear that snaked down her spine. She was worrying about Conklin, but what about Bourne for fucks sakes? How the hell would that mass murdering super efficient 30 million dollar government weapon react? Granted that was not the way she had seen him on the night of her birthday… or the way she had viewed him since a few weeks before then but faced with this jarring reality her fear managed to distil the complexity of the man into nine unfriendly words. Great, this was not helping. What would help would be for her to get up off the very cold floor and out of the tiny Marseille hotel room. Her friends Jacques and Louisa were expecting her in St.-Raphael before sunset but she would be lucky if she made it there shortly after dark.

Rising gingerly Nicky picked up all three discarded pregnancy tests, the boxes and packaging they came in and shoved it all into a tiny yellow garbage bag, she was way past being grossed out by the idea of touching the plastic sticks which had her dried 'positive' urine on them. She made a face at herself in the mirror, before she set the garbage bag down on the counter and vigorously washed her hands. She felt like Lady Macbeth as she scrubbed at imaginary traces of urine, it was as if getting every last trace of urine off her hands would magically erase the entire predicament she was in. When she heard the words, "Out, out, damn spot" reverberating in her head she let out a harsh derisive snort and turning the water off wiped her hands on the seat of her jeans. Avoiding her reflection she picked up the offensive yellow bag and giving the bathroom one last cursory sweep, strode into the adjoining bedroom, picking up her hand bag and car keys off the side table. Without breaking her stride she walked out of the room and headed downstairs towards the main entrance, her car and temporary escape from the big black crow of bad news crouched over her head.


Tuesday, 28 March 2000

Nicky shivered in her purple wool coat as she let herself out of the Paris safe house; compared to the toasty warm heating inside, the chilly climes of Paris in the grips of a North Sea-originating cold spell felt like rolling naked in a snow-drift after having spent hours in a hot tub. She tucked her blonde hair underneath a cream wool hat, hiked her purse straps higher up her shoulder then tucked her gloved hands under her armpits and with a hunched motion resolutely turned into the biting wind. With hurried steps she headed towards the Place de la Concorde where she was supposed to meet her new friend Louisa before they headed back to her apartment for a little pre-birthday rave night drinks.

Nicky rounded the corner, just in time to see Louisa step into a cab, picking up speed she called out for her friend, her hands frantically waving in the air but it was no use. She was too far away and in the rush hour traffic, nobody noticed the slender girl waving at the cab as it pulled away and joined the mêlée that was evening traffic in Paris.

Nicky threw her hands up in frustration and swore volubly, "Sallope putain, la puta madre, filho de puta, es una mierda non!"

"Nicolette Parsons, do you kiss your mother with that mouth," Jason Bourne chuckled behind her.

She whipped around, her heart thudding like a Mexican jumping bean in her chest. Jason's lips twisted into a cheeky grin, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Bourne! What are you- how long have you been tailing me?"

Jason shrugged his expression serious again although his eyes were still dancing, "I heard from a very reliable source that you wouldn't be able to make it for our appointment tomorrow morning so I took it upon myself to come and see you today instead."

Nicky frowned, "What source and why wouldn't I be able to make it for our appointment tomorrow? Who's spreading rumors about me? I know people think I'm too young but I'd never change an appointment without telling you, I'm a professional!"

Jason stifled a grin as he took her arm and led her down a side street, "Easy now Parsons, nobody's been spreading rumors about you okay, I overheard you and your cute redhead friend Louisa talking about going to a rave to celebrate you-know-who's big day making the big 2-1 so I thought I'd gift you with an early appointment so that you can sleep in tomorrow."

Nicky scowled fiercely, "You overheard me and Louisa!? How the hell did you do that!? You know you might not realise this but you and I are on the same side and you have no right to eavesdrop on my private phone conversations, or stalk me or-"

"Louisa and I."

"What!?" Nicky dug her heels in but Jason continued to propel them down the street without breaking his stride.

"It's not 'me and Louisa' its Louisa and I. Come on Parsons."

Nicky was now gaping at Bourne in total shock, he was teasing her. He was teasing her, Nicolette Parsons, principal logistics technician (and junior handler since January 2000), like they were, well, friends! She blinked repetitively, she had to be dreaming or maybe it was a nightmare, but whatever it was, this couldn't possibly be real. She reached down with her left hand and pinched her thigh just to make sure. Biting back a yelp of pain she glanced back at Jason who was pushing open the door to a quaint and cosy-looking Brasserie. She bit her lip and stumbled a little when Jason released her arm and stopped in front of a plump and friendly Arab waitress.

"Bon soir monsieur, mademoiselle, ou-est-ce-que vous voulez vous assoir?"

Jason looked at Nicky who just stared back at him dumbly then with a small smile he indicated the corner table near the back of the restaurant. Nicky's heart foolishly starting doing an impression of a steel drum calypso solo as they were led to their table. When they were seated the waitress gave them some menus and took their drink orders as dictated by Jason. Nicky cautiously raised her eyes up to Jason's face but he was busy assessing the sight-lines and exits as well as sizing up the clientele and the patrons. The calypso beat in her chest died with a graceless clang. She initially thought he'd chosen the table for its cosy intimacy forgetting that he was the crème de la crème of assassins who worked for a black ops branch of the C.I. fucking A. Her infatuation with Bourne was going to kill her one way or another if she wasn't careful.

"Bourne what are we doing here?"

"You gotta eat, line your stomach for all the booze you're gonna drink… and I gotta eat too."

"What about your appointment? I thought you said the whole point of you being here was so that we wouldn't have to meet tomorrow morning… which by the way is against protocol and like every single rule in the handbook," Nicky leaned forward a frown marring her brow.

Jason leaned back in his seat, everything about his body language showing her not only was he relaxed but he was enjoying himself.

"You know Parsons I'm beginning to think you don't want me around."

Nicky's face flushed, "No it's not like that but the only times you've ever said anything to me that didn't have to do with a mission was last year before the physical part of your training started in New York and since I came to Paris there was January 1st when you wished me a Happy New Year and on Martin Luther King Jr Day."

Jason raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything more because their waitress was back with a bottle of Moët & Chandon in a bucket of ice and two champagne flutes. Nicky's eyebrows rocketed up into her hairline and she turned an inquisitive look on Jason. The bottle was opened and the cork's popping sound was deafening to Nicky's ears, it reminded her too much of a gunshot especially because of the man sitting across from her. The waitress poured champagne in both their glasses and taking her cue from Jason retreated. He waited for Nicky to pick up her glass then he raised his.

"To turning 21, finally being legal in the U.S. of A, saving the world one bad guy at a time and… to you," Jason said with an amused smile in his voice.

Nicky felt her lips stretching into a beatific smile despite her internal misgivings, "Just me?"

"Yeah just you," he said it thoughtfully.

Nicky blushed prettily and touched her glass with his before taking a sip of the champagne. The nerves making her pulse flutter erratically prompted her to down the remainder of the flute in one gulp. Jason noticed the pulse in her neck but seeing the color heighten in her cheeks he tactfully chose to turn his intense blue eyes away from her and sweep the room. Nicky unbuttoned her coat and shrugged it off, draping it around the back of her chair; she unravelled her scarf, risking a look at Jason. He was watching her intently and she got tangled up, he leaned forward and gently taking her hands in his, he pushed them away and removed the scarf. Nicky felt something inside her shift when she saw her cream silk scarf wrapped around his large tanned hand. Their waitress came back and asked if they were ready to order while she refilled Nicky's glass and topped up Jason's.

Nicky realized she hadn't even looked at the menu and looked up at Jason with a panicked expression; he gave her a reassuring smile.

"Le poulet scallop a la Princesse avec champignons pour la mademoiselle et le steack frites pour moi."

"Tres bien monsieur, ca sera pret en vingt minutes."


Jason looked at Nicky after the waitress left, "Relax Parsons it's your birthday, you only turn 21 once and believe it or not I am capable of being good company without there being talk of guns, targets, missions, etc."

Nicky squinted at him, the glass of champagne she'd drunk had already gone to her head, "Oh really?"

"Yeah really."

"Prove it."

"Prove it!? How exactly do you want me to prove it?"

"I don't know but so far you sound like the middle-aged Dad at a teen party trying to convince the kids that he used to be cool."

"Ohhh… how old do you think I am? Wait a minute you know how old I am!"

"That's not the point! You're like… always so stoic and/or intense… it's like you're the Terminator."

"The Terminator? First one or second one?"

Nicky grew pale; she could not remember which one Arnold played the good guy in, "First one."

Jason's face darkened and Nicky tensed, "Second one? Second one!"

Jason grinned, "Had you going for a second there Parsons."

She buried her face in her hands, her platinum blonde streaks hiding her face, then realizing how immature that was she jerked her head up and picking up her champagne glass took a healthy sip.

"See, you're totally being like an old Dad… tormenting me like that, why couldn't you just assume I meant the one where Arnold's the good guy?"

Jason shrugged, "I like to see you blush, you're usually so clinical in our dealings, it's become a fascination of mine to see-"

"Clinical! I'm not clinical, I am a professional! And I wasn't clinical at our orientation retreat last year… it's just that when I got here Conklin said not to be personal but to be 110% professional," Nicky protested as she finished off her second glass of champagne.

"A very young professional."

"I'm 21!"

"As of today."

"Okay Dad, if you wanna prove that you're still young enough to be hip, tell me what your favourite music is," Nicky challenged in an animated voice.

The champagne was definitely getting to her; she was much livelier than she had been when they came in.

"Rap and alternative rock."

"You like rap?"

"Yeah, I was a teen when that scene really exploded!"

"Oh yeah like who?"

"Run DMC, Snoop Dogg, Tupac, NWA, Notorious BIG, Naughty By Nature, A Tribe Called Quest-"

"Oh my God you sound like such a white boy."

"I am white!"

"Whatever… tell me about your alternative bands, and you can't say Nirvana."

"Hmm… let's see, Pearl Jam, Foo Fighters, Soul Asylum, The Offspring, Silverchair, Matchbox 20, Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Nirvana…"

"I said you couldn't say Nirvana."

"Is that all you can say in response to my impressive catalogue of fine music?"

"Okay fine, I'm impressed that once upon a time you were young but you haven't told me about any music that's actually hip and popular these days that you like."

"I like 'The Thong Song'."

Nicky burst out laughing, "Of course you do, you're a guy!"

Jason chuckled along with her, finding his heart melting at the sight of Nicky underneath the soft lighting being so free. It made him feel good that he had brought that humor to the surface, that he was still capable of making somebody feel joy of some kind and free to show it and share it. Since he'd left the Treadstone training facility in New York it was like he had been frozen inside himself, unable to react or relate to anything in a way that wasn't ingrained in him through his training.

"I also like Eminem and please don't laugh but Whitney Houston's new album."

Nicky guffawed with laughter, "JB likes Whitney Houston's new album? You've got to be kidding me."


Nicky wiped the tears off her cheeks and took a sip of Jason's champagne, "You know, your initials, we're in public and I don't wanna say it."

He nodded in understanding, swiping his glass back from her, "Uh huh, don't think I didn't see that."

"Hey! It's my birthday!"

"So," Jason challenged taking a sip of his champagne.

Nicky rolled her eyes and leaned forward conspiratorially, "I'm gonna ask you to sing me a song from Whitney's album later just to test you."

"Okay, Parsons, whatever you want," he said indulgently.

Her eyes lit up evilly.

"Within reason," he warned.

She gave him a knowing look, "Ok Dad! I'll just get you to sing the song, I won't ask you to dance…wouldn't want you to bust a hip!"

Jason tried to give her a stern look but it fell apart and they both burst out laughing, trying desperately to keep their voices down.


"Okay, JB, I am totally wasted and I haven't asked you any of the questions I am supposed to be asking you tomorrow."

"I know you are, I think its-"

"Totally inappropriate and should Canker Worm see us or hear about this he'll have my head on a plate," Nicky said sombrely.

Jason's smile died on his face and he regarded her just as seriously, "I was going to say I thought it was cute. And as for 'Canker Worm' finding out, I would not let that happen."

Nicky ran a hand through her chic French bob, "We're in a Brasserie less than ten minutes away from La Place de la Concorde… I think the chances of someone accidentally spotting us having dinner, drinking and generally being merrier than I have been since joining the Team are higher than any situation assessment plans you may have devised."

"Why do you think we're sitting in a corner with all these bodies and this huge flower arrangement blocking us?"

Nicky looked around, taking note of what Jason had pointed out.

She cocked her head to the left and tapped her right hand lightly on the table top, "Why are you being so nice to me? Is this some kind of test?"


"If it is just tell me I've probably failed it and if I'm gonna be sent home, I'd really appreciate it if you just let me enjoy the rest of my birthday-"

"Nicky why would you think you're gonna be sent home? That's -"

"What Conklin said would happen if I screwed up… Oh God, you're being so nice to me out of the blue and you're confusing me. I can't take this right now!"

She made to get up, tears springing in her eyes. Jason reached out and grabbed her arm, anchoring her to the table.

"This isn't a test Nicky, and I'm not trying to ruin your birthday."

"So then why are you here with me if you haven't been sent?" Her brown eyes were wide open and limpid pools of vulnerability.

"I noticed how sad you've been these past few weeks and I have to admit I overheard you begging Canker Worm to give you this coming weekend off and he said no."

"It wasn't begging exactly, more like asking nicely," Nicky interjected with a little of her earlier sass.

"Okay, I heard you asking Canker Worm very nicely to give you time off and he said no. I remembered from orientation that it was your birthday today… So I thought, I- well I thought it would be- ah-"

Nicky covered Jason's hand with hers and he looked down distracted by the sensation of her warm palm on his skin.

"I've never thought about it before because you're usually so intimidating but sometimes instead of the big picture, we all just need life to be about the little moments and… for those moments to be real. Right?"

Jason looked up into her eyes, surprised by the wisdom behind her words. Something in his face must have shown because she shrugged self-deprecatingly.

"I may be into N'Sync and Britney Spears but I didn't get this job based on my CD collection."

Jason grinned, "You definitely didn't get it based on your CD collection, if you ask me that would have been a reason not to hire you."

She whacked him playfully on the arm as the waitress brought them their coffees.


Nicky and Jason walked out of the Brasserie and were heading for her apartment.

"Wait there may not even be any point in going to my place, I'm pretty sure Louisa's already gone to the rave and if not the one we were planning then a different one, that girl is crazy."

Jason was busy assessing the security situation the Tuileries Gardens they were walking through, "Why don't you call her?"

Nicky gave a Gallic shrug, "She doesn't have a cell phone."

Jason nodded in understanding and continued to look around him, his mind busily looking for people or things that looked out of place and plotting exit strategies should someone threaten them or should someone spot them together.

"So then why don't we just go to any rave we feel like?"

Nicky stumbled, he pulled her up and they stopped walking, facing each other.

"You feel like going to a rave?"

"Yeah, why not? Its your birthday after all."

"Okaaay but you're JB, you don't do raves."

"I don't? Says who?"

"What kind of rave music do you like?"

"Doesn't matter it all sounds the same after a while, but I do like that 'Blue' song by those Italian guys."

Nicky stared at him like she'd never seen him before. Jason's blue eyes danced with merriment.

"Right… so when exactly are we supposed to do the whole interview thing?"

"Interview thing?"

Nicky raised her eyebrows sceptically, "Jason if we go to a rave tonight I will barely be able to function tomorrow morning and-"

"Nicky, I'll take care of it. Don't worry, tonight's about you, okay, so do you wanna go to a rave or not?"

She hesitated momentarily still suspicious that this was all a big joke at her expense, and then she shrugged, "Okay."

They started to walk again, and this time she tucked her arm into his. Jason started initially in surprise but he didn't pull his arm away. They walked contentedly until they found a cab and went to a massive rave in an abandoned warehouse in Neuilly.

On the way there, Nicky got Jason to sing, 'Heartbreak Hotel' for her just to prove he could. They tumbled out of the cab laughing hysterically all the way up until the rave entrance at the driver's harangued expression.


Six hours after they left the restaurant Nicky and Jason were making out in an alley along the Seine. Nicky had bought two tabs of Ecstasy in the ladies room back at the rave and had dropped them both. It was only the second time in her life that she had done something so reckless but she figured that Ecstasy was less likely to get her in trouble compared to the fact that she was out at a rave with Jason-frigging-I'll-kill-you-with-my-pinkie-toe-or-whatever's-handy-Bourne.

When she had rejoined him on the cramped and sweaty dance floor, his eyes had almost immediately noted the change in her. When the drugs started to take effect she had challenged Jason with her eyes to say something critical but he'd given her an unreadable look before guiding her to a less crowded area where she could dance. The drugs had taken effect and Nicky had spent the majority of their time in the warehouse, pressed up against Jason. He hadn't seemed to have minded.

"Oh my God, I feel like I'm made of diamonds and magic!" Nicky panted into Jason's ear as his hands ran down her sides then round to her butt where he lifted her up and she reflexively wrapped her legs around his waist.

"Shh… Chérie we have to be quiet as church mice," Jason whispered in her ear.

Nicky shivered pleasurably as his breath sent myriad swirling sensations tingling in her body. She moaned sultrily in his ear as he divested her of her jeans and panties, one minute they were kissing and caressing and the next they were bumping and grinding against the alley wall.

He hungrily drank in all of Nicky's cries, feeling as if by swallowing her sounds of pleasure he could hold in some of that innocence and goodness she radiated that he himself could no longer enjoy as a right. Jason morbidly mused that he was like a vampire, feeding off of Nicky's innocence and drug induced feverish arousal like it was blood because he lived in shadows and darkness now. This was the choice David Webb had made; it had seemed much easier then than it did today.

He felt himself lose total control as Nicky experienced a multiple orgasm, her inner muscles clenching and unclenching around him. He knew that she would pay heavily for the onslaught on her slender frame but he was too intoxicated by her and Nicky was too out of it to even think about it as she launched herself at him and pushing him back on the ground, straddled him in the cold Paris alley and rode them both to another spectacular climax.


At the crack of dawn they walked through the Quartier Latin taking in the sights and sounds of Paris waking up in the chilly March air. Jason's arm was slung around Nicky's shoulders and she had an arm wrapped around his waist. Mainly for support but also because she liked Jason's solid, muscular warmth.

"I'm crashing."

"About time, I don't think I can go another round in this cold."

"Tell me again why we didn't like, go back to my place?"

"Like go back to your place? Umm… mainly because someone would have made us. And we didn't have all the necessary fake ID necessary to book a hotel room."

"But you're JB you plan for everything."

"Well, Nicky this time I didn't… I thought I'd take you out to dinner then send you off on your way, I did not think we'd spend the night together," he said wryly.

"So what changed your mind?"

"You did."


"I don't know, but you just did," he explained patiently.

Nicky screwed up her face as she thought about this, her brain felt like it was wrapped in cotton wool. Jason watched her intently for a few seconds, steering her onto the Blvd. du Momtparnasse and towards a side street that lead to her apartment.

"So when I get back up there, last night will be-"

"Relegated to the World of Never to Be Mentioned Again."

"I guess Never to Be Mentioned is better than Never Happened. I couldn't bear it if last night turned out to be fake, that was the best birthday I've ever had."

Jason was silent and Nicky stole expectant glances, he wrestled with himself unsure of what to say. Instinctively he erred on the side of caution.

"Nicky, you're new to this but if word of yesterday gets out or there are any suspicions-"

She stiffened, "I really hate it when you throw my age or my very short tenure in the Agency in my face."

Jason stopped and looked at her gently, "I'm sorry I didn't mean to make you feel like I was patronising you but we're black ops which means loose ends are tied off permanently-"

Nicky wrenched her arm from his and held up her hand, "I seriously doubt Conklin would order a hit on me or you because of last night but yeah I get it okay… and it's not a big deal."

Jason watched her as she hunched her shoulders and squinted up at him nervously, "You're right I still have a lot to learn, and I really hope I won't learn the majority of my lessons the hard way. And by hard way I mean by getting on Canker- Conklin's bad side."

She had dirt, twigs and some grass in her hair and on her purple coat. Jason wanted to reach out and brush them off then envelop her in tight hug but with the lightening of the sky the usual barriers and divisions between them seemed to be racing back up, the urge remained just an impulse as he hastily suppressed it.

"I hope so too," he said finally. He silenced the warning bells that rang in his head at the thought of the potential consequences of anyone in Treadstone getting on Conklin's bad side.

Nicky's youthful face reflected her exhaustion and the smudges of dirt on her face from their hour and a half in the alley and the park only served to make her look even younger.

"I'm gonna go home now… embark on the 'walk of shame' to my apartment. It's pretty much daylight and I'll be fine… I'll see you at the safe house at 11 and thank you for the birthday gift," she called out over her shoulder as she speed-walked away from him.

Jason started in her direction then stopped himself knowing she was right to run away from him and also since her apartment was under Conklin's surveillance escorting her home would definitely not bode well for either one of them. With a regretful sigh, he watched Nicky until she turned around the corner to get into her building. He felt a small burst of pride when she did not look back at him directly but glanced over her shoulder and around her taking note of her surroundings. With one last lingering glance at the now empty street he ducked his head down and made his own way home.


Nicky sat on the beach and watched her friends Louisa and Jacques dive off the yacht moored away a few miles out to sea. Much to their disappointment Nicky had refused to join them in their midnight swim. She had decried a hangover knowing full well that her nausea, dizziness and impending headache had nothing to do with recently consumed alcohol and everything to do with popping two pills of Ecstasy and being drunk on the idea that Jason Bourne was not only giving her, Nicolette Parsons, the time of day but that he was actually enjoying being in her company. So much so that he forgot some of the programmed Treadstone behaviours that made it much easier for her to maintain a professional distance with her assets.

She thought back to the night of her birthday and felt a wave of nausea bubble up inside her. So she turned her thoughts back to the meeting with Jason at the safe house the morning after.

She had arrived a half hour early for their appointment; Conklin had already been and gone. Leaving her an irate note asking her why the appointment had been moved from 9 am to 11 and next time Nicky should stick to the protocols.

With a sigh Nicky had started prepping for her appointment with Jason, fighting waves of nausea and the after effects of her Ecstasy high as well as the 30 minutes she had spent in the alley by the Seine before they had snuck into the Jardin Des Plantes and spent another hour there, screwing each others' brains out. How had she not felt the rough edges of the wall, cobble stone and later on the park bench on her knees, elbows, back and ass?

And the sex, well, that had been amazing. She was pretty sure it was because Jason was apparently not just a professional hit man but if that didn't work out he could just become a very successful male escort. She remembered catching him and the mixed-race female asset every guy at Treadstone orientation retreat had wanted to screw en flagrante delicto their on the second day there. The woman, Lisa, had seen Nicky over Jason's shoulder and continued moaning and groaning like Nicky wasn't there. She remembered Jason's naked buttocks clenching and relaxing as he furiously pumped into Lisa. Embarrassed she had fled the scene and never mentioned it to anyone. The image of his sweat glistened back and butt moving against Lisa had stayed with her though. And last night she remembered the way his muscles as rippled violently with the force of his climax, droplets of sweat showering her face. She blushed furiously at that thought and forced herself to downplay that part of the night, resolving to attribute it to the E.

When Jason had arrived Nicky had avoided meeting his eyes, choosing to conduct the question and answer part of the session in the most austere conditions she could manage by mere rearrangement of the furniture. Jason had been Jason, not the guy she had spent the night on the town or the future asset she had occasionally talked to at orientation but Jason the Treadstone asset with an incredible amount of self-restraint.

"Okay, I have to just check your vitals and then you're free to go," Nicky said coldly.

Jason didn't respond to her indirect request verbally, silently he rolled up his shirt-sleeve so she could take his blood pressure. She could not help it; his ease at slipping back to being a polite stranger irked her. She had grown up in a house full of polite detachment and cold dismissal. How dare he just ignore her like that, she deserved some kind of recognition, Conklin be damned.

Nicky conducted the medical part of her assessment in silence and when she was done annotating the results she had looked up at him and forgetting her irritation, smiled at him gingerly.

"We're done here."

Jason had barely nodded then stood up, shrugging on his coat and leaving. With a heavy heart Nicky had packed up all her gear and left the safe house, whatever Treadstone conditioning had been forgotten yesterday had reasserted itself at some point after Nicky walked away from him in the alley. She went back to her apartment, took her second blistering hot shower of the day and went to sleep.


"Celina! Allons-y on y va!" Louisa hollered as her and Jacques ran onto the beach.

Nicky picked up her shoes and purse and followed them back to their hotel. She doubted she would get a wink of sleep tonight but it was almost 1 a.m. she would have to give it a shot.


One week after her trip to St.-Raphael, Nicky ran out of Dallas International Airport into the waiting arms of a tall, muscular, man.

"Ah Juliet! How I've missed your fair an' funny looking baby face," he drawled in his slow, rich baritone.

"Shut up Lee, I'm 21 now, and I am allowed to drink in any bar I choose in the US!"

"Uh huh, you still have a baby face an' it is still funny lookin'," Lee replied matter-of-factly.

Nicky punched his arm as hard as she could and Lee winced.

"Where in Sam-hell are your bags," Lee asked as he looked around her tiny frame.

Nicky pointed at the trolley she had left standing by the wayside. Lee chuckled as he went and piloted her luggage, gesturing with his chin for her to head toward his cherry red Dodge Viper waiting in the VIP parking.

Nicky sat in the passenger seat as Lee loaded her bags in the truck unable to repress the happy smile on her face. William (Lee) Charles Anderson III was her best friend growing up; his parents' ranch was next door to Nicky's paternal grandmother, Margaret's just outside of Marshall, Texas. Joanne and Derek Parsons had been too busy having drunken fights, affairs and spending their respective inheritances to raise Nicky so she had spent most of her childhood and early teens living with Margaret. Lee was six years older than her but a couple of expulsions on his part and Nicky's academic excellence had allowed her to skip a few grades here and there, had put him only three grades above her. He called her Juliet after the character in Romeo and Juliet and she called him Romeo, it was their own private joke and it was now over 10 years old.

With his wavy honey blonde hair, hazel green eyes, dimpled perfect smile combined with his 6ft frame, Lee was always the handsomest, most athletic, sexiest, smartest and generally coolest guy in school. He literally had been the school Romeo/ Casanova.

"Okay Sugar Pie, you're supposed to be stayin' here for two weeks why on God's green Earth have you brought half a plane load of luggage? You've never been an obsessive packer before, what have those Frogs done to you," Lee asked as he slid into the driver's seat.

His natural charm and easy-going attitude had always coaxed Nicky out of her shell when they were growing up and had also enabled Nicky to go through most of her school life without too much negative attention directed at her.

Nicky grinned, "You can't call them Frogs."

"Oh please! Don't pull that PC crap with me Nicolette Parsons… I remember Grandma Margaret had a whole repertoire of un-PC names for everybody but black people which she called 'coloureds'!"

Nicky rolled her eyes, "Shut up and drive Cowboy, it's a long way to Marshall and I just wanna enjoy the music and hear all about the crazy adventures of General Lee and his trusty sidekick Life."

Lee chuckled at this and opening the sun-roof and cranking up the volume, whooped as they took a sharp corner.


"A baby huh?"

They were sitting on their favourite hill-top on the Parsons Ranch, with a panoramic view of the babbling brook, Spanish moss and the ranch horses grazing in the distance. Nicky sighed, if Lee hadn't asked her that question she could have been 12 years old again hoping Lee would kiss her. That was before he had told her he was gay.

"Yeah, a baby."

"This is gonna be amazin'."

"Easy for you to say, you don't have to do it."

"Well not the pushin' an' vagina-dilatin'-to-like-a-mile part but I'll be right there beside you screamin', cryin' an' sweatin' until the little angel comes out to meet an' greet us!"

"Lee, be serious, it's a baby, a real-life miniature human being that will be dependent on me for everything."



"You said dependent on 'me', you meant dependent on us… Come on Nicolette, you work for the CIA for a little over a year an' move to Frog Land an' you develop amnesia 'bout the fact that you an' I are a team? You're fixin' for a fight there Girl."

Nicky leaned her head against Lee's shoulder; he put his arm around her and rested his chin on top of her head.

"I can't tell the father about this… and you can't ask me about him."

"Oh Nicolette you didn't fall for a black ops guy did ya?"

She stiffened and he sighed.

"Nicky those guys are completely unsuitable an' unstable. They are not programmed to form lastin' relationships with anythin' other than the Agency, guns an' orders!"

"I didn't fall for him exactly, it was just one night…"

"One night too many."

"You're not helping."

"I know, but I'm mad that I can't even go an' pummel the guy."

Nicky felt a giggle rise in her chest at the idea of Lee attacking Jason, then she realised that strong and skilled in martial arts as Lee was he still would be no match for Bourne and would end up either comatose or dead.

"You definitely can't."

A shiver ran up and down her arms giving her goose bumps.

"Lee, no one can know I'm having this baby."

"Not even Troy?"

Troy was Lee's Cuban-Creole partner of 5 years and he was the third addition to their little family, as an outcast in his own family he had bonded easily with Nicky whose family after the death of Margaret Parsons had pretty much ignored her.

"Of course not Troy, I said no one, and Troy's not no-one."

"I just had to make sure, I understand more than you think I do 'bout the sensitivity of your new job," Lee said gravely.

Nicky looked at him sadly and nodded, "I guess it's just as well that Grandma Margaret isn't around to see her beloved Nicole give birth to an illegitimate love child."

Lee's eyebrows went up, Nicky hastily added, "It's just a figure of speech!"

"Unh huh, so you gonna give the angel up for adoption then?"

Nicky tensed, "I don't know…That's so permanent."

Lee nodded with approval, "Troy an' I could adopt him."

Nicky whipped her head round in shock, "You'd do that?"

"Of course! You're not gonna work for the Agency forever, I mean you could even quit now an' move into this empty ranch house."

"No I can't quit now, if I quit now… things could get complicated."

"Complicated how?"

Nicky thought of Jason, his warnings to her that night of her birthday, Conklin, his thinly veiled threats in respect to breaking his rules, both of their most likely reactions to her news and the likelihood that Conklin would want to take the baby away from her because of what its existence would mean for the mental well-being of his most precious asset. Without realizing it she started to cry.

"Oh Baby don't cry," Lee hugged her to him.

This only made her cry harder, sobs wracking her body as she clung to him desolately.

"If the Agency finds out about this they'll take the baby away, oh my God Lee h-h-h- how-how could I have been s-s-s-so stupid as to get myself in this position!?"

Lee's heart skipped a beat in fear at her words but he hid it well, holding her tightly and rocking her gently.

"These things happen Baby Doll, don't worry we'll take care of this… how much time-off did you say they gave you?"

"S-s-six m-m-m-months," Nicky stammered.

"Okay great, so if you're 4 months along you've got a little less than 5 months to go… we'll go to Cuba. Nobody will find you there… I'll have to work but you an' Troy can stay there… you can have the baby, spend a little time with him or her before you go back to France."

"I'm supposed to be writing up my Masters proposal over the next 6 months."

"Don't even try an' tell me that just because you're pregnant you won't be able to sit at a computer an' type up a bunch of BS for your proposal!"

Nicky let out a watery laugh and pressed a soft kiss on Lee's cheek.

"Great now that that's sorted let's go get you an' Junior some fresh baked cornbread with a hot spoonful of black eyed peas on top!"

"Oooh only if the cornbread is dripping with maple syrup and like, a nice chunk of freshly churned butter," Nicky added licking her lips.

Lee made a face, "Maple syrup, cornbread an' black eyed peas together's just nasty."

Nicky shook her head, "It's not to me, in fact it's the only thing I feel like eating today."

Lee got up and helped her stand, "Man this kid's gonna make sure we vomit together every day too huh?"

Nicky stuck her tongue out at him and sprinted down the hill, "Last one to Etta-Mae's kitchen's gotta walk Margaret's horses in the morning!"

Lee watched her run and followed at a sedate pace, the little minx knew that he wouldn't let her lose now that he knew she was pregnant.


31st October 2000


Nicky wiggled her freshly painted plum toenails in the wake of the errant breeze and sighed, resting her hands on her protruding belly.

"Okay now listen Junior, I'm missing out on Halloween tonight and I don't care cause they don't celebrate it in Cuba… but I definitely don't plan on missing out on Christmas or New Year's Eve festivities, alright!?"

"Scolding Junior for making you look like you swallowed a boat of fleeing immigrants again, Mami?"

Nicky scowled at Troy, "What do you mean 'again'?"

Troy put one hand on his hips and snapped his neck, while he waved his other hand at her, "I mean you keep telling la niño that he's stopping you from doin' this an' that! What you think I mean?

"Oh, I thought you meant I looked like I had swallowed more than one boat of fleeing immigrants."

Troy sucked his teeth at her and sashayed over to her feet to see if the varnish was dry. Nicky narrowed her eyes at him as his perfectly toned butt loomed in her face.

"How come you always seem to wear teeny tiny shorts nowadays? Are you rubbing it in my face that I can't?"

"Ay Tia, listen, today you being a real loca chick, this is out of hand non?" Troy said crossly sashaying off the veranda and back into the house.

Nicky picked up her empty coconut shell and tossed it out onto the beach in a fit of frustration. Troy had a point, she had been crabby all day, finding fault or taking umbrage in everything anyone said or did or didn't say or do.

The last 3 months had been one never-ending rollercoaster ride of incredible highs and dizzying lows. Within two weeks of settling in Cuba her belly had ballooned in line with the number of months along she was. She could spend two-three weeks happy, enjoying the pregnancy, the lazy days, satisfying her cravings, pretending to work on her Masters proposal, exploring Cuba and just having a good time with Troy. Then she could go through 3 consecutive days where she was depressed by the changes being wrought on her body, depressed by the thought of her baby growing up not only without his/her (Nicky and Lee were convinced it was a he) real father but most likely without her either. Depressed by the thought of going back to living in Paris like nothing had ever happened to her these last few months just like she had gone back to acting like she did not know Bourne was capable of humor and care and affection after their first meeting at the Paris safe house last year and then again the morning after her birthday and every day since. Damn Jason Bourne and his easy going demeanor and bottles of Moet, this was all his fault!

"Que fierda! Filho de puta, why did you throw your shell out there!?"

"Ay Dios Mio, Troy you're really pissing me off!"

"I'm pissing you off?!"

"Put on a proper shirt you look like a Cuban-Creole Hank Azaria in the 'Birdcage' movie like that!"

"Vale, I am so happy Cariño gets here in the next hour you are too much today!"

"His name is Lee not Cariño!"

"Actually it's William but to me is Cariño. And he is mine so I can call him whatever I like!"

"No you can't, I've known him much longer than your so-called great gay love affair, and his name's Lee," Nicky started to cry, the last words barely audible as she bawled her eyes out.

Troy threw his hands up in frustration and went back inside; he came back out with a bottle of Red Stripe beer and opening the top with his teeth he set it down next to Nicky with a thud.

"Stop crying, you can have your cervesa now," Troy cajoled.

Nicky gulped down the last few sobs and wiped her tears with the back of her hand looking at Troy unabashedly; she swiped the bottle off the table and took a healthy sip. Troy sat in the wicker chair next to hers and let her gather herself. A few minutes later she reached out her hand and took his.

"I'm sorry," she apologized with her heart in her eyes.

Troy's mouth was set in a grim line but after a few seconds he relented and squeezed her hand back, "Me too… you were so normale before Junior now you are like the squeaking mouse."

Nicky's brow furrowed in puzzlement, "Squeaking mouse?"

"Yeah like in Shakespeare, something like the 'Turning of the Screw'?"

"Oh you mean a shrew! It's the 'Taming of the Shrew'."

Troy nodded sarcastically, "Ay, si, si."

Nicky bit back a chortle, "Oh Troy, te amo, I really do."

Troy finally smiled at her, his handsome features lighting up, "I know, I love me too."

She squeezed his hand as they laughed together.

"It's gonna be alright huh? Lee and I will take care of Junior, and you will visit him and us until you leave that horrible job of yours and our poco familia will be complete again," Troy said comfortingly.

What made both Troy and Lee put up with her sour moods was the fact that they understood the gnawing fear and anger Nicky felt knowing she would not be able to keep her baby with her. As well as what could happen should anybody in the CIA ever find out that she had had the baby in the first place.

Nicky felt a fresh wave of tears spring up and she blinked them away, "I really hope so Troy."

"Que sera, sera Tia, it will happen no matter how much the CIA teach you to be afraid to want and have something of your own that is good."

Nicky took another big sip of her almost depleted beer and let the bubbles fizz down her throat. Troy only let her drink a maximum of two beers on any given day so she savored the beverage like she would time with a lover. The local midwife who had been plying her trade for over 40 years had told them that she always recommended expectant mothers drink a moderate amount of beers when the mood struck them. The beer helped in stimulating milk production she claimed and also to balance out the hormonal mood swings.

"Okay, I go change into a real camisa now, Lee arrives in 20 minutes so go wash your face, you look like-"

"Don't even bother finishing that sentence," Nicky warned as she downed the remainder of her beer then made to get up.

Troy leaned forward and helped her stand, "Si, si, Mad Cow, now go fix your face!"

He smacked her butt smartly as she headed indoors, Nicky yelped in protest but kept walking. Lee was coming, since Troy was driving her crazy she couldn't wait for him to get here.


Nicky stared up at the ceiling and surmised that she must be in shock. She had been very naughty tonight, drinking four warm beers in an attempt to drown out the voice in her head that was insidiously suggesting that Jason Bourne should be here; suffering her hormonal mood swings and temper tantrums with her. The voice that was making her feel very bitter and conflicted about this baby. This same voice was also mocking her for wimping out and not telling Jason about her condition and making her doubt her convictions that Jason would not want anything to do with either her or her baby and that his loyalty to Conklin and Treadstone would supercede any loyalty he may feel towards them and he would turn her in to Conklin himself.

Drunk and deciding that she needed just one more drink to go to sleep Nicky had tiptoed out of her bedroom and crept down the stairs, halfway down she lost her footing and fell down the remaining 12 steps. There was a metaphor there but a sharp knife-like pain ripped through Nicky's lower back effectively bringing her musings to an abrupt end.

"Nicky! Jesus Christ, Troy get the car," Lee called out as he turned on the lights and ran down the steps.

Nicky reached out for Lee's hand and held on tightly as the pain lacerated through her. Ripples of less excruciating pain worked their way up her thighs and seemed to center on her lower back. She cried out this time just as a warm gush of water rushed down her legs.

"Fuck! Troy!! Her waters broke!" Lee called out frantically.

Nicky felt tears of pain prick her eyes as Lee lifted her shoulders up so her head could rest on his lap. He started to search her body for broken bones, finding none he gave Nicky an exasperated look.

"What were you doing?"

"I thought I heard an intruder."

"Nicolette you must think my handsome mug was born yesterday."

Nicky made a face, "Okay fine, I was going to get myself another beer… I couldn't sleep!"

Lee gave her a disapproving look, "From the smell of your breath I think you had enough beers. Can you stand up?"

Nicky nodded, "I think so, but you're gonna have to help me up 'cause I don't wanna slip in this mess."

Lee got up and then helped her stand, Nicky made a disgusted face when her feet squelched in the recently expelled contents of her body. Lee led her to the downstairs bathroom and at Nicky's insistence stripped her off her sodden gown and gave her a quick wash using the showerhead. Troy having made a quick assessment of the situation ran upstairs and got Nicky a clean night gown. When he brought it down she practically screamed that she wanted to wear a real dress and she wouldn't be caught dead delivering her baby in a Victorian-looking cast-off. Ten minutes later, Nicky (wearing a forest green V-neck empire-waisted silk dress), Lee and Troy got into their beat-up Jeep and drove to the main clinic in town.

By 8 am on the 11th of November, Tristan Anderson, with dark blue-green eyes and black hair, weighing 4½ pounds was born via an emergency C-section. At 7½ months he was premature but a thorough check showed that his organs had all fully developed, Lee and Troy however, gave the doctor permission to put the baby in an incubator for the next two weeks to be on the safe side. When Nicky awoke her voice was hoarse from screaming in pain and cursing Jason volubly and fervently. She huskily agreed with their decision and pumped breast-milk for the nurses to feed the baby along with his special formula. After the first three days the doctor gave Nicky permission to hold the baby and Lee and Troy taped the whole scene, as Nicky cried tears of love and joy at the feel of her son in her arms.

On the 25th of November, Nicky lay in her hospital bed breastfeeding her son and gazing down at his soft downy black hair.

"Well Junior, what do you think of the nurses' name for you? David… after David who fought the gigantic Goliath in the Bible."

The baby suckled hungrily, a tiny fist curled against her breast, "Well I like it, Tristan David Anderson."

Lee walked into the room and bestowed a kiss on her head, running a finger down Tristan's head.

"I like it too, you 'bout ready to go Mamacita?"

"Yeah, I am, I've only got two months left with you guys and I want to be able to look back and know that I managed to harass and annoy Troy as much as humanly possible before I went back to Paris."

Lee chuckled at this, sitting down next to her on the hospital bed, Nicky lay back resting her head on his shoulder as Tristan continued to feed. They sat there in compatible silence for a long time, Tristan fell asleep, her nipple slipping out of his tiny mouth.

"Penny for your thoughts," Lee prompted gently.

"I'm wondering if giving Tristan your last name and lying on his birth certificate will protect him and you enough."

"That's just the first layer Snookums, I got some contacts from the NSA who have collated a whole lot of evidence and host of pictures, the latest ones show you havin' fun at Grandma Margaret's ranch in a two-piece bathin' suit just last week. Thereby placin' you nowhere near Cuba an' this here baby."

Nicky tilted her head up to look at him and kissed him on the cheek, "Thank you Lee."

"No problem, now let me get your discharge papers finalized an' get our precious treasure the hell on out of here!"

Nicky watched him leave with a troubled heart, she really hoped that their precautions turned out to be nothing more than paranoia and nothing bad happened to any of them. Especially her darling little boy whom she knew she loved more than anything on Earth the second she laid eyes on him.


23 January 2001

Nicky stood in what had been her bedroom for the last 6 months since Troy and her had moved into the 200-year old house at the end of July last year. This was her last morning here; in a few hours she would be boarding a plane to Caracas, Venezuela then connecting to Barbados before flying to Florida. Once upon American soil she would drive up to Tallahassee then board a flight to New York City, in order to submit her Masters Proposal.

Studying her naked reflection in the mirror she concluded that she looked pretty much the same as she had before, except her hips had grown a little wider, her breasts had shrank back to their B-cup status (much to Lee and hers' chagrin). The scar from her C-section was almost completely indiscernible; the doctor had been given specific instructions by Troy to use his budding plastic surgery skills to make sure nobody would know she'd had the procedure unless they conducted a thorough and highly suspicious medical check of her person. There were no stretch marks on her abdomen and only a few on her hips because Troy had religiously massaged cocoa butter and coconut oil into her skin every morning and every night of her pregnancy and done the same after as well.

Lee with his black belt in Jujitsu had given her an excruciating exercise routine to adhere to after her stitches had healed, so that by New Year's Eve Nicky had shed all her pregnancy weight and was actually more toned than she had been before-hand. Her hair which was naturally a rich glossy auburn had grown incredibly long during her pregnancy, Troy had periodically trimmed all the blonde dyed bits off, and it was with great regret that she had let Troy cut and dye it blonde again after Tristan was born. All three of them had agreed it was the best thing to do seeing as Nicky was to go back to Paris and pick up her job and life like nothing more incredible than working on her Masters Proposal had happened to her over the past 6 months.

Nicky took a deep breath and looked into her eyes in the mirror; they were the only thing that had irrevocably changed in her view. Gone was that naïve and innocent vulnerability that only through its loss, Nicky realised had been there in the first place. In its place without really being aware of it, Nicky had developed a mysterious unreadable look. Only to her the look was not unreadable or mysterious, it was carefully controlled fear and grief for what she was going to have to do every day of her life in the foreseeable future. Lie about the existence of the most precious person in the world to her. As if on cue, Tristan gurgled in his bassinet. Nicky pulled on some underwear, a tank top and jean shorts then padded over to lift the baby up.

"Hello handsome! Momma's so glad you're up, we don't have much time left together and I really, really wanted to spend it with you," she cooed to the baby.

Tristan opened his eyes and smiled, it made Nicky's heart melt and tears choke her throat at the same time. How was she going to leave him? How could she? What kind of a mother did that to her child?

"Is that my little Prince looking for his Tio Troy?"

Nicky turned around as Troy swept in the room, the baby monitor tucked in his tiny jean shorts back pocket. He was topless.

"Troy put a fucking shirt on! Tristan will sneeze all day from the smell of that Hawaiian Tropic," Nicky chided.

"No swearing in front of the nino! And I'm not wearing any Hawaiian Tropic, this is sweat."

"Well go and wash it off," Nicky ordered, exasperated.

Troy looked ready to argue but then with a shrug he sashayed into her bathroom and ran water through the shower-head. Nicky looked down into Tristan's eyes, he was watching her attentively. She leaned in and showered his face with kisses. The baby's hands grasped her face tenaciously and he gummed her hair. Nicky laughed tearfully.

"Okay, I washed the sweat off now hand him over Mamacita, Tio Troy has made Junior some nice squashed fruit non?"

Nicky's arms tightened reflexively but with a deep breath she forced herself to hand the baby over to Troy who was cooing to Tristan in Spanish. The baby smiled and watched Nicky over Troy's shoulder as he carried him out of the room. Nicky felt tears well up as the distance between her and her son grew wider until the door shut.

She sat down on the bed weakly, how the hell was she going to get on that plane today and leave her baby behind? When they had discussed their next steps last month, Lee had told her that she could not take a single picture of Tristan. Apparently he had done some digging of his own about what she did for the CIA and whatever he had found had prompted him to tell her that she could never call and ask about Tristan directly nor could she take anything with her that might link her and Tristan together. Lee had also given her a fake passport and the number of a safety deposit box in Panama City which had another fake passport, money and title deeds to a ranch in Argentina where she could go and hide should anything go wrong. The seriousness of his tone had scared both her and Troy compelling them to adopt a similar attitude and take everything Lee said to heart.

The worst news had been that Lee had been promoted and his job at the NSA had posted him to work undercover for the DEA. Lee and Troy were moving to Thailand in February, so soon after Nicky left, the three people she held dearest would be moving to the other side of the world. Their official Cuban birth documentation for Tristan had already been processed and Lee had notified the NSA that he had fathered a child with a local woman in Cuba and that he was currently in the country so that he could bring his son with him and Troy.

The plan was that Troy and Lee would raise Tristan as their son which gave Nicky the chance to visit with them after they made their new baby 'public'. This involved cursorily introducing Tristan to Lee's parents and siblings. They would obviously want nothing to do with him either; they were barely on speaking terms with Lee since he had come out of the closet and 'shacked up' with Troy.

After they moved to Thailand and had settled in Nicky would come to Bangkok on vacation. It all seemed so easy but it wasn't, Nicky was going to have to walk away from her son and she could not keep pictures of him or anything, to be on the safe side. How had working to protect American lives become so dangerous and such a nightmare overall?

She picked up Tristan's beanie baby and looked at it wistfully, despite what Lee had said she was going to take this with her. It smelt of baby, her baby and she deserved at least that reminder of him during the inevitably long and lonely nights she was faced with in Paris.

Oh God, Paris, the City of Lights and Love, where Tristan had been conceived. Then why did she feel this sick feeling in her stomach that warned going back there was the same as going to the guillotine? She knew why, because Jason Bourne would come and see her every two weeks for the scheduled check ups. He would act like they had never been more than logistics technician and Treadstone asset for one magical night. He would never know that that one night had created this beautiful, glorious life that would be loved and nurtured with minimal participation from her and total ignorance to his existence by Bourne.

She had never realized that choosing to work for the CIA and Conklin and Treadstone in particular would give her so much then take away pretty much everything. She obviously had been naïve to think that she could go to work and save the world and then go home and finally live a life with love, security and acceptance that she had only found from Grandmother Margaret, Lee and Troy. Whether she liked it or not, the choice had been made for her, she would continue to 'save the world' but she would miss out on the love, security and acceptance. She would also continue to turn up to work and look Jason Bourne and Conklin in the eye like Tristan and her birthday last year had never happened. Not, ever existed. Even she could not entertain the thought of acting like neither that night or Tristan had ever existed.

Rising from the bed Nicky hid the beanie baby in her open suitcase and then went downstairs to enjoy her last few hours of love, security and sunshine.


A/Post - Note: Let me know what y'all think! And I apologize in advance for bad spelling and grammar in French and Spanish. If anyone has the correct spellings or grammar feel free to hook me up.

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