The fact that Nikita was the one to initiate a kiss this time was not a fact that was lost on her either. It wasn’t a decision that she had always made consciously before, planning to kiss Missy only when the other woman had done so first; subconsciously, however, not being the one to start things gave her more peace of mind about their changing relationship. If she didn’t kiss Missy first, then that meant that she wasn’t pursuing her, and if she wasn’t seeking a relationship, then that made the whole affair more casual. Nikita could do casual because it implied that no real feelings were involved, especially hers. All of this “sound” logic helped to cover up the fact that there was obviously something pushing the two of them together, and it wasn’t all coming from Missy’s end. If some part of Nikita, however well hidden it had been all this time, didn’t still care about the hunter, then she would have found a way to kill her years ago. She certainly wouldn’t have saved her life, thereby risking her own. If there was no emotion in any of this, then why did touching Missy make her skin hum?
When the kiss came to a short but natural conclusion, the need to run began to worm its way into mind. She could feel her limbs almost ache as she fought against the desire to let Missy go and turn to walk back to her room, apologizing as she went. Her mind was buzzing with white noise with one side telling her to flee and the other telling her to stay; she didn’t know why, but it felt incredibly important that she stay grounded where she was. This moment was determining and different from all the others that had come before it. And then, as if to catch her from making the wrong choice, Missy began a second kiss. A soft sound of approval slipped over Nikita’s lips as Missy’s fingers dug themselves deeper into her hair. She had always liked them there and it was a surprise to realize how much she had missed the sensation.
Nikita could have continued on without need for a break – it wasn’t as though she wanted for air – but she couldn’t go on like this without at least saying something. She pulled back just far enough so that she could look Missy directly in the eyes. There was no glare in her eyes, but there was a hardness to them – the last remains of her defenses. “How can you be so sure about this? You don’t even hesitate anymore.” More questions began to form and compound in her mind, but was now the time? Would it be better later, or worse… “If you had lived that night, you wouldn’t be here. Wouldn’t even consider it.” It was, in part, a question, but it came out as a resolute statement.