turps

Congrats on the new network, and on the happy birthday!

Now your ficlet, it's pretty sad and tame. I hope that's okay.

Part 1

Hands pushed deep in her coat pocket, Emma watched the boats far out at sea. If she concentrated she imagined she could see the glint of sun against glass on one boat, evidence of the men who watched her always. It had bothered her at first, having a succession of minders. Their thoughts were always cool and controlled, evidence of the conditioning that had created the ultimate spy, and after a few weeks Emma had started to tightly leash her powers, not wanting to accidentally brush against those dull ordered emotions more than she had to.

It was one of the things Emma missed the most, being around people with emotions that swirled round her in a riot of feelings and thoughts. She missed walking past Brennan and feeling the aura of confidence that surrounded him, or Jesse who projected love and friendship, but mostly she missed Shalimar, and the way the air changed when she walked into a room. Shalimar has always made things seem more alive. Images sharpened when she walked past; at least they did for Emma, who missed her friend with a longing so deep it scared her.

Even Adam hadn’t been able to dampen that longing after a few months. It didn’t matter how many talks they had or how many exhausting missions they undertook, Emma still felt the loss of her former life like a knife to the gut, a knife that plunged into her again and again every time she allowed herself to think more than a few minutes.

Emma had become pale and withdrawn, haunting the corridors of the complex at all hours of the day and night. Adam worried for her; Emma could sense his concern, mixed up with guilt and fear that he’d caused this situation. But she couldn’t tell him not to worry, how could she when it took every bit of strength she had not to run screaming into the night?

In the end it was Adam who pushed until she was allowed to contact at least one of her old friends. When told, Emma had sunk to her bed, staring at Adam in disbelief. It should have been a hard decision, they were all her friends, but it hadn’t been. She wanted to see Shalimar. No, she needed to see Shalimar. Adam hadn’t looked surprised, just patted Emma on her shoulder and looked at her with eyes that radiated pain.

It hadn’t taken that long to arrange. The complex could work miracles at times, and now Emma sat waiting at a deserted beach, miles from the nearest people, at least those people that didn’t have to watch her at all times. Emma could tell when Shalimar approached; the air seemed to change in a way that screamed Shalimar. Emma drank it in, breathing deep and long, inhaling what she’d craved for so long. She didn’t look back, she couldn’t look back, just stood and felt until Shalimar moved in front of her, standing a few feet away.

They didn’t touch, though Emma ached to hold Shalimar in her arms, to hug and be held like they used to. But that was a life-time ago, and Shalimar just stared at her, caution, happiness and distrust all bound in a bundle of emotion that blasted through Emma’s mind.

“You died.” The words seemed to be wrenched from Shalimar’s throat and her eyes shimmered with the memory of a thousand tears.