Viggo's Break - Chapter 17.2 - Something Good

Nyssa and Viggo are on the run together. They've just had sex for the first time after Nyssa had a panic Attack.

To know more, read Chapter 17.1.

The next morning, Nyssa learned new things about Viggo. The first one was that he really didn’t like sleeping on the floor. She woke up to the sound of him groaning and grumbling that his back hurt. She opened an eye, saw that he was already up and moving like a crotchety, rheumatic old man. Smiling into her pillow, she closed both eyes again until he walked out of the room.

It was a glorious morning. The weather sounded awful outside, but did she care about that? She had just had sex – good sex – again for the first time in ages!

Happy and nervous, she did what she always did when she was happy and nervous. She sat up and reached for her laptop. Back in college, she would have brought up Google and typed something geeky like, “small talk after sex with a demigod”. She was still sporting a shit-eating grin as she surfed the net in search of what she needed. Maybe, now…

She was completely engrossed when Peter came out of the shower.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Hm?”

She looked up, froze. He was naked, but for a scrap of terrycloth, and she couldn’t help thinking that they had been together. He seemed to be having similar thoughts – she was just barely covered in a cotton sheet. Growing warm, she wished she could jump him and forget about everything else.

But her panic attack had been a clear reminder that she had no time to lose. It had served her well where sex was concerned. Maybe this too would work out. Nyssa closed her computer and put it away in the wreck that was the nightstand’s drawer.

She licked her lips nervously. “Good morning.”

He just picked her right off the ground and kissed her slowly, tenderly. “Yes, it is,” he said in her hair, just holding her there and stroking her back.

Her heart broke a little because she knew she would remember this exact moment for a long time. How long had it been since anyone had just held her with love? Her parents hadn’t been the type. All her boyfriends had proven to be rather disappointing specimens of manhood.

Kissing her forehead one last time, Viggo deposited her back on her feet. “So, what were you doing while I was in the shower?” Before she could reply, teasingly, he said, “Launching the next greatest virtual attack on the United States of A?”

She smiled back. “Nothing like that. I was doing nice, normal, random, civilian things.”

“That’s nice.”

Her smile just widened of its own volition. “Don’t forget normal, random and civilian.”

“What kind of NNRCT, though?” he asked.

“NNRCT?” she echoed incredulously.

“I’m acronyming. Roll with it.”

Her eyes rolled heavenward. He was as drunk on happiness as she was.

“I was buying a car,” she said.

He stiffened. “Were you?”

“God, Peter, you’re a terrible actor.” She gave him a little push. “Your casual sounds like someone shoved a stick up your ass.”

He heard the edge of anger in her voice and tried to keep her from saying anything she would regret, “Eh, there, hold on.”

But she was on a roll. “I was buying a car. I was buying a car because it’s time to move on!”

“Move on?” he repeated in a tone so soft that she wasn’t sure if it was uncertain or one of mounting temper.

She planted her hands on her thighs – faintly aware that she had somehow started channeling her mom laying down the law. “I’m buying a car – setting up an appointment to buy it. Cash, since we’re fugitives! Then, I’m parking my ass in that car and I’m driving it up to New York. Are you coming?”

“Hold on a second,” he began, eyes widening.

“No, I won’t hold on a second! I’ve held on for a month. Because I know you’re going to leave. You’re going to leave,” she repeated, breaking apart a little.

“Nyssa,” he said, reaching for her.

She pushed him away. She wasn’t hysterical yet and nothing short of hysteria was going to make her drop this argument. Time was running out on them and this man could make her forget everything, could drive her to stark idiocy.

No more.

“You’re going to leave,” she repeated in a stronger, harsher voice. “I’m going to be on my own and I know – I just know that something is going to happen. And you’re going to go back to San Francisco. That’s stupid! Someone’s going to recognize you. You’re going to get caught. And what am I going to do?”

His face was unreadable, but she knew what he was thinking – that she would go on, free at last and that he would get what he wanted even more than he wanted her. He would get to play the white knight one last time and to go out with a bang.

“I can go on without you,” she admitted, because she could. She would survive him, Russ, survive everything – but she was tired of surviving. “I don’t want to. Even if you don’t get yourself killed, there’s no way I can break you out of jail again. How many times exactly do you think you’re going to get a convenient earthquake?! I’m so mad at you! Is that the way you care?”

“I care!” he protested.

“Then how come you can want to hurt me that way? And how come I’m going to end up with your dog, hm?”

Her argument made, she spun on her heels and prepared to storm out – the big exit, then cut! But Peter grabbed her by the waist. “Hold on a second.”

She twisted around. “Let me go.”

Using his superior strength, he pushed her down on the bed, then he took his hands off her and crossed his arms over his bare chest. “Do you mind the dog that much?”

His question caught her sideways. She made a face and shook her head as if it was an annoying mosquito. “Of course not.”

“The dog, Nyssa.” His jaw was clenched – in fury, she realized. “Is keeping the dog on a par with my death?”

“I don’t care about the damn dog!” she burst out. “It’s not about the dog.”

“Then what is it about?”

“Your being an idiot,” she told him, standing up. “But if that’s not clear enough for you, let’s make it into an ultimatum. I’m leaving tomorrow. Either you come along or I’m washing my hands of you.”

She stepped around him and marched into the bathroom. She was grateful for the anger keeping her spine straight. Peter didn’t say or do anything to hold her back – didn’t apologize, didn’t reach out…

She didn’t turn on the lights, glad for the gloom. She didn’t want to see her face in the mirror – desperate and needy. She stepped into the shower and let the water run until it was scalding hot. Her tears mixed with it and disappeared down the drain.

She was sore, but not in a bad way. Russ always left burns, abrasions, cuts and bruises on her body. Peter just left her feeling…stretched. Too bad it would be their only time together.

She lathered shampoo in her hair. It smelled of lemongrass and peppermint. She much preferred the musky scent of Peter’s sweat. She flinched when the shower stall creaked open. He moved behind her, his hands cupped her breasts. He kissed her neck.

“You’re right. Going back is suicide,” he said when she would have protested.

“So, you’re going to stay with me?”

“No.” She sobbed, and he plastered his front to her back. “But I refuse to leave you angry.”

It was pretty clear how he intended to bury the hatchet. He was hard, already, and part of her was thrilled to have that kind of effect on him. “You can’t make it all better with sex.”

“Sex would make us both feel a hell of a lot better, I think.”

She pushed those hands away from her breasts before they made her forget all about their fight. His hands drifted down to her bellybutton. She hated how comforted she was to find herself braced by him.

“Not if you leave in the morning,” she told him.

“I’ve got to. Don’t you see?” He sighed, his breath hot on her nape. “He was a good cop. A sadistic bastard, a murderer, a rapist but he was also one hell of an investigator. And he knows us. He knows us very well. What do you bet he’s on his way here right now?”

She shivered. Russ was her very own bogeyman…She never forgot the threat he presented, not when she slept, not when she was awake.

“It’s okay, baby,” Peter told her, kissing her neck. “He won’t get to you.”

Peter embraced her tighter and she relaxed against him, drinking in his warmth and strength. He was her white knight, he could slay the monster under her bed. In a fair fight, that was. Unfortunately, Russ didn’t fight fair.

“I’m scared for you,” she whispered.

“I feel the same way,” he confessed. “I won’t let him hurt you ever again, I swear.”

“Peter, I’m not asking you to kill him!”

“I know.”

He reached for the bottle of soap and studied it from every angle. “Milk and honey? This explains things.”

“Like?” she asked.

“Your skin always smells sweet. Drives me crazy. Always did.”

She laughed. It was watery and weak. “You’re changing the subject.”

“I’m improving it.”

She snorted. “You’re full of shit.”

“Eh, now…”

“What are you doing?!” she squeaked.

“I’m cleaning you up.”

She grabbed his hands, stilling their slow drift over her body. “Be serious for two seconds, please.”

“There’s no way you can convince me, Nyssa.” She had expected as much. She closed her eyes because part of her was resigned to this idea. But to her surprise, he went on, “Because I don’t trust that he won’t find us in New York. Are you positive that he couldn’t follow us there?”

She hesitated.

Nyssa didn’t think Russ had paid any attention to her AA friends or to Judith, her sponsor. She had been very careful – had only met Judith when he was out of town, had kept in touch with her on a burner phone. But…She couldn’t be sure, could she? She had been convinced that he didn’t know about things before, only to have him spring bad surprises on her.

So, she hesitated. Just a fraction. But she knew Viggo could feel it and she knew that, just like that, she had lost. “Then I’m coming with you,” she told him with renewed conviction.

“No!” The bottle of soap slipped between his fingers and crashed at her feet. Peter grabbed her shoulders, spun her around and pushed her against the wall. “You’re not coming!”

“I’m coming,” she said, chin thrust out. “Someone needs to have your back. I can’t convince you to stay. How could you convince me?!”

“Because…Because…Holy fuck, Nyssa, because I’m letting you anywhere near him!”

In the narrow stall, she didn’t need much light to make out his clenched jaw or the darkness in his eyes. She raised her hands to cup his face and kiss him. “The only person I intend to keep close to is you.”

“Do you think you won’t be recognized in San Francisco?”

“No more than you’ll be.”

She smirked. He couldn’t possibly win this argument.

“I’ll be careful and disguise myself,” he said.

She chuckled. “You know I’m better at it than you are.”

“The SFPD will have orders to look for a couple – they aren’t morons, contrary to popular opinion.”

“They’ll have orders to look for either you alone or the two of us,” she calmly argued. “By this reasoning, it’d be safer if I went alone.”

“No!” he erupted.

“Actually,” she went on, pretending to think about it, “I think I would make a better assassin than you. I’ve got the technical expertise.” She was a fair shot – she hadn’t forgotten the lessons he had given her, and she would be better than he was at staging an accident or planning a poisoning. “I know Russ’s habits better than anyone else. The SFPD won’t be on the lookout for a woman alone – Russ won’t be expecting me to come after him. You, yes. Us together, maybe. Me, alone? Never in a million years.”

“No!” Viggo roared again and he punched the door so hard that it left a big crack.

It was loud, violent, useless, and yet, she wasn’t scared. It told her how much progress she had made.

She laughed. “And how are you going to keep me from going? You can’t keep me safe unless you’re with me.” Amused now that the tension was running through him, not her, she pushed a little, “New York or San Francisco, that’s your only option.”

After a long pause, he pleaded, “I need you to stay safe.”

“New York or San Francisco,” Nyssa repeated.

She honestly didn’t care which one. All that mattered was to hold on to that one good thing. He took a deep breath, released it. She wrapped her arms around his middle and pressed her cheek to him.

“It won’t be safe,” he said.

San Francisco, then. She kissed his shoulder. “It’ll be safer because we’ll be together.”

“Together,” he echoed. He brought her hand up to his lips, kissed it and she felt the curve of his smile against her knuckles. “I love you so much.”

“Because I’m stubborn as hell?”

A little laugh burst out of him. “That too. And smart, brave, a tiny bit devious. But, mostly, I love you because you’ll always have my back. Wherever. Whenever. No matter what. Loyalty. Do you know how rare it is?”

“When about very dog and every other human display it?” she retorted, pouting a little.

“Not a person in a million. I should know.”

She swallowed hard. “Peter…”

“Don’t say anything, please. Just let me love you. And then, we’ll get out and you’ll explain me this car-buying thing on your computer.”

To know more about Nyssa's scheming, read Chapter 17.3.