Arienne strolled through the door of the café holding only a journal, her purse, and a magazine.

"Hey, Trouble. Where's the rest of your stuff?"

"Not today, Roger. I'm taking the day off. I'm going to sit down with my usual, catch up in my journal and bask in the glory of having another of my stories published."

Roger, rubbed his hand across his beard and contemplated her for a moment. "Well, Congratulations Trouble, sounds like this is a special occasion. How about a splash of Macadamia to go with the chocolate today?"

"Thanks, Rog! Sounds heavenly."

It was late afternoon and there were only a few other people there. Arienne nodded casually to the people she'd seen before, as she made her way to her usual booth. Settling into the bench seat, Arienne breathed in the combined scents of yeasty breads, sweet berry muffins, and various gormet, flavored coffees - everything from a Kona blend to Hazelnut Crème.

Arienne opened her journal and flipped to the last page she had written. Catching the last sentence she had written, a little of her euphoria wore off. "....It had all sounded so final. I went home and cried myself to sleep for all the resigned hopelessness I saw in their eyes."

Arienne sighed. It had been two months since she'd seen Michael or Nikita, and she wondered if everything had worked out...dreaded that it hadn't.

Roger came over with her order and she glanced up at him.

"Hey, why the long face? What happened to the woman who bounced in here?"

"Roger, have you seen Michael or Nikita around?'

Roger sighed and nodded his head once as if to say: Oh, that's what this is about. "Not since they were here with you." Looking at Arienne's face, Roger quickly continued. "But that's not really unusual. Sometimes I see Michael in here everyday for weeks, then he just up and won't show up for months at a time. Nikita doesn't come in as much, but it's the same type of thing. She'll come in for a couple of days in a row and then I won't see her again for weeks and weeks. It's all relative."

Arienne gave him the semblence of a smile, "Yeah. Thanks Rog."

"Anytime Trouble." Roger wandered back to his counter, leaving Arienne to her thoughts...and her active imagination.

************

Arienne re-read the passage she'd just written in her journal. It was short and lacked her usual flair for the dramatic...and there was no sarcasm which was odd for her as well. She tossed down her pen in frustration, and took a gulp of her au lait.

"Hello, Arienne."

Unceremoniously, Arienne choked on her drink. When she'd stopped coughing enough to speak she looked up, "Mic..." Her voice trailed off when she saw him. He still wore his standard black, and his eyes were still the cloud covered gray; but the curls were gone. In their place was a short almost-buzz cut. Sheared close in the back and on the sides, she could see his face more and it made him look younger except for the lines of fatigue that creased his forehead and bracketed his mouth. The top was a little longer, slightly spiked with curling tips that were kissed with a touch of auburn.

Running an obviously selfconscious hand through the short curls, Michael said, "Is something wrong?"

Finding her voice, Arienne rushed to reassure him. "No, no. Actually, I like it. It looks good on you."

His lips twitched in a small smile, and impulsively, Arienne stood and hugged him. When she pulled back and looked at him again, she had to laugh at the shocked expression on his face - Well, shocked for Michael. "Don't look so surprised, Michael. I haven't seen you in ages. Friends hug when they haven't seen each other in a while." He still looked uncomfortable, so she decided to change the subject. "Why don't you sit down and tell me where you've been?"

Taking the seat across from her, Michael signaled to Roger who was beaming at having one of his favorite customers back. Michael ran his fingers through his short locks then settled his hands on the table. He looked tired.

"Soooo," She drew it out, trying to think of the best way to word this. "How's everything?"

"Fine." It was breathy and practiced. Arienne thought he must use that line a lot.

"Right...fine."

Silence. Roger brought over Michael's au lait and left almost immediately - probably a little too much tension in the air over here, thought Arienne. In the continued silence, Arienne could feel the questions building in her throat, being held back only by her lips...until they finally burst from her.

"Where did Nikita go? Or did she stay? Did you guys work out your differences? Are you really okay? And don't tell me you're fine - I can see that you're tired."

Despite the slightly haunted look in his eyes, Michael chuckled a little. "She's still here. We've been away on...business off and on for the last few months."

"So, did you guys work it out or what? Please don't leave me in the dark about this, I'm a writer, I live vicariously through others."

At that, Michael gave a full fledged laugh, before it subsided to a broad smile, then gradually to a thoughtfully pensive look. "Ni-ki-ta and I...our relationship is complicated..." His eyes skiddered away from her face and he became very interested in the backwards lettering on the window that proclaimed "Roger's Café" from the outside.

Arienne leaned over to catch his eye again. "Michael, it doesn't take a genius to see that you and Nikita have a slightly...diferent kind of relationship. I'm asking you if you've tried to talk to her."

Michael sighed and ran his hand through his cropped hair again. "We haven't talked in a while. Not since the day we were here. We've been going on separate...business trips. I've only seen her in passing a couple of times."

Arienne was quiet and sipped her sweet au lait. She could see that there was something more bothering him, but was hesitant to say anything about it. He always seemed so evasive about his life, especially when it involved Nikita. Arienne felt that she'd already pried into a part of his life that he didn't want her in. Coming to a conclusion, Arienne slapped her hand down on the table a little harder than necessary; however, she did get Michael's full attention. "I tell you what. I'm not going to pry anymore. I can tell that you don't like to talk about it, so I won't say anything else."

Michael smiled at her...perhaps a little greatful. Taking her hand, he said, "Thank you." He looked like he wanted to say more, but in the end, he just squeezed her hand, and changed the subject. "So, how is the writing?"

Arienne's sudden animation must have surprised him because he sat back when she started talking about her story. She was so involved in her discription of what she'd written about, she didn't see that Michael had an odd smile on his face right away. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I've read it, Arienne. I enjoy your work." Looking into her face, Michael laughed again. "Are you speachless?"

Arienne recovered after the first few moments of shock, "Of course not. I'm just flattered that's all."

Michael lost his smile for a moment. "Ni-ki-ta actually showed me a story you had written. She had recognized your name."

Arienne smiled...now she really didn't know what to say. She was about to break her promise and ask another question about Nikita when her jaw dropped open and she just stared over Michael's shoulder.

Having just walked through the door, Nikita didn't see Michael and Arienne sitting in the corner booth, and she walked sluggishly to the counter to order. Arienne could see the ghostish pallor of Nikita's skin and the fatigue that seemed to make her look almost frumpy and limp. Glancing back, Arienne saw that Michael had spotted her as well. He seemed to drink her in, and Arienne thought she saw relief flow through him as he watched her. A slight frown twitched his lip and Arienne thought he was probably noting how tired and run down Nikita looked.

As she turned from the counter, Nikita caught sight of the couple at the table and a smile spread over her face. Genuine happiness and a "Thank God" look passed through her eyes. She walked toward them and addressed Arienne first. "Hello, Arienne, it's so nice to see you again." Nikita took Arienne's hand and squeezed it warmly. Turning to Michael, she said, "Hello, Michael."

She caressed the name and Arienne suddenly felt a little like a voyer with all the messages that those two words held.

"Hi," he said. "How's everything?"

Arienne was sure she could have been a million miles away at that moment. She'd never heard anything so charged with such a multitude of emotions in so few words.

"Everything's fine, Michael. I promise."

Relief passed over Michael's face again as Nikita took a seet next to him. They sat close together and looked at each other.

"Um, listen, I really have to get going," said Arienne. She really wanted to leave them alone. She already felt as though she was intruding into an exceedingly intimate exchange: and they'd only exchanged a few words.

Michael flinched a little, as if to shake a fog from his brain. Tearing his eyes from Nikita, he reached out to take Arienne's hand. For a moment, she thought he would ask her to stay, but he just squeezed her fingers, "Thank you." His eyes spoke volumes and Arienne felt a true bond of friendship with this beautifully quiet man.

Arienne smiled. "Anytime." She glanced at Nikita, "I'm glad you stayed."

Nikita's eyes flicked to Michael and something passed between them, she looked back to Arienne. "I'm glad I stayed too." The two women smiled and Arienne turned to the counter to pay her bill.

"Just one today? Are you sure you can make it on only one caffeine fix?" Asked Roger as he doled out her change.

"Nope. I'm going home to take a nap and then watch a sad, romantic movie. It's my day off." She flashed a cheeky smile at Roger and started for the door. When she glanced back at the couple in the corner she could see under the table what she hadn't seen before. The two were still sitting next to each other, and Nikita's hand was on Michael's thigh. But what struck Arienne was Michael's fingers that lovingly caressed the back of Nikita's hand. Stroking her fingers and kneading the fleshy part between her thumb and index finger, it was an extremely private thing to watch.

Arienne dragged her eyes away from their hands just in time to see Nikita run her finger along the side of his face past his ear - like she might have done when his hair was long. Michael leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on Nikita's forehead. Nikita smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder.

Smiling, Arienne opened the door. She stepped out into the crisp sunny air, closed her eyes and breathed. She had a little more faith in love...and life.

END

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