Will We Burn in Heaven?
Will We Burn In Heaven?

By Absinthe

Disclaimers: See the Prologue.
Chapter 13:

Maia woke up just before dawn with a pounding headache. Sarah still slept soundly next to her, her small body nearly lost among the quilts. Straightening her sleep rumpled clothes, Maia surveyed the room. She made note of a rectangle on the wall opposite the head of the bed where a picture had once hung. Maia crept out of the room, and as much as she wanted to stay to say good morning to the younger woman, she left.

It seemed strange to Maia that Sarah was so immediately and unabashedly honest. So unaffected. Maia had a sense of the trust that hung, unearned, between them. I don't think I'll be able to lie to her. She thought as she rode home in a cab. It's been too damned long since you were a part of the real world. She's so alive. Not like us, like me. She's not one of the walking dead.

Maia stood in what would have been her dining room, but was used as a workout room. She felt too confined inside. The scarred walls and battered dumbbells depressed their owner, so she changed into leggings and a sweatshirt and went running instead. She strode purposefully outside onto the sidewalk. The cold air hit her like a slap, but she set off at a dead run anyway. Pushing herself to the limit, she ran all the way to Central Park and then some. Drenched in clammy perspiration, Maia covered about 15 miles that morning when her breath came in white gasps of vapor.

Clean and dressed in her favorite leather pants with a loose blouse, Maia found a can of chick peas in the cupboard and called it breakfast. Only then did she crack open the "company issue" laptop to check for word from Ops. She was to report in in 30 minutes. Maybe this will be the one.

It was not.

While Maia waited for her chance, a mission that would give her the opportunity to fake her death, she walked a thin rope. She needed to appear safe for Section's continued use, but still edgy enough so that a fatal mistake might not seem completely out of character.

In the outside world she felt compelled to seek Sarah out repeatedly. The two women grew close, Maia thrived in the light of day, and the honesty that seemed to be the very root of Sarah's personality.

"I'm going to have to leave soon." Maia whispered one evening. They were nestled comfortably together on the floor of Sarah's living room.

"But we haven't finished watching the movie." Sarah protested, gesturing to the rented copy of Boys on the Side. She didn't want to move, she loved the feel of Maia's long, powerful body behind her.

"No. I mean I'll be leaving soon. Leaving the state." Maia explained. The head resting against her chest pulled away and a pair of green eyes flashed in her direction.

"You're moving?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"Don't know yet."

"Why?"

"There's something here I have to get away from."

"Dammit." Sarah snapped and jumped to her feet. Maia looked up at her uneasily.

"What is it that you won't tell me?" Sarah demanded.

Maia had never see her so angry before.

"Why can't I call you? Where do you live? What do you do? What's going on that's so terrible?"

Maia said nothing.

"What's the matter? Did you do something? You're in trouble, but for what?" Sarah asked, kneeling now. "It can't be that bad. Come on. I'll do anything you want me to to help."

"I am in trouble, have been for a long time, but I don't need your help." Maia chewed her lip to keep it from trembling, "You can't be connected to me. That's why I use pay phones to call you, why you can't call me, or come to see me. It's not because I don't trust you. It's because it's not safe for either of us."

"You think I would tell anyone where you are?"

"No. I think I couldn't live with myself if they made you suffer."

"Who are they?"

"Sarah." Maia begged, "Stop."

The blonde sat down again, slowly. She brushed the side of Maia's face hesitantly; the dark woman leaned into the tentative touch.

"I'm sorry." Sarah tearfully said at the pain evident in her friend's face. "How long until you have to go?"

"I can't be sure. It could be tomorrow, it could be months from now."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Just keep doing what you always have."

"Will you come back?"

"No."

"I want to go with you."

"Absolutely not." Maia brusquely returned. She explained, "It may be too dangerous. Besides, why on earth would you want to give up your company?"

"I remember what it was like before I met you. It wasn't bad...not at all, but it was emptier. I want to see the world. I feel restless here. I have these dreams about traveling with you; only you're not really you and I'm not really me. I just feel like we're family."

Maia stared at her.

"You feel it too don't you?" Sarah asked, getting excited again, "It's like we knew each other as children and then forgot about each other."

Maia continued to stare, keeping her expression carefully neutral.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Maybe its because you've had that portrait in your bedroom for so long."

Sarah slapped the powerful woman's arm playfully.

"You saw the fade mark huh?" She asked sheepishly.

"Kinda hard to miss."

"You feel it too though."

"I still don't know what you're talking about." Maia snorted, but the look of triumph on the blonde's face proved that she saw through Maia's gruff response.

"I could run Ishtar by remote. If you're going to start over somewhere else, you'll need money." Sarah pointed out.

"That's not a problem." Maia was planning on falling back to her reserve funds, the money from before Section, from before Steve's crazy plans.

"This is partly my choice Maia. I can't stand this stupid dirty city anymore. I'm tired of silly, shallow people trying to be something they're not."

"The answer is still no. I can't let you." Maia grabbed Sarah's hand and kissed it affectionately. "Let's just watch the rest of the movie ok?"
Maia did not contact Sarah again. She couldn't face another argument because she was almost certain that she would give in, and that could only cause Sarah pain in the end.

Maia's next assignment almost made her lose control too soon. It was a quick undercover operation. It wasn't the first time by far that she'd had to play such roles, but this was the first time she had orders to put herself completely at the mercy of a stranger. Amanda called her into her office after the briefing. "I thought you might like to know why you're being asked to do this." The blonde said, a hard coldness creeping into her voice.

Maia simply waited for her to go on.

"Durret has an intolerance for sedatives; we need him alive and completely unaware of our surveillance."

"And I can't just go in as a household employee because...."

"We don't have time to have his maid killed and insert someone in her place." Amanda flashed a manic smile.

"Why me?"

"Because you're his type."

"Why him?"

"He's a threat." Amanda vaguely replied. Maia pursed her lips, thanked her superior dully and went home.

She showered, shaved, and dressed exactly as she had been told to and settled down with a copy of Garden of Eden to await a phone call. It came at 10pm, and was almost immediately followed by the arrival of a replica of the car used by Durret's usual "service."

Maia sat wordlessly in the back seat, smiling halfheartedly at the driver. He was one of her agents, Jimmy, she thought. He was looking a little uneasy with the situation. When at last they reached their destination, and Jimmy pulled up in front of sprawling house in the suburbs, he turned to her and said,

"Good luck. I'll be back in three hours to pick you up."

"Thanks. I'll be fine Jimmy." She walked up the front door, staying on her toes to keep her ridiculous high heels from sinking into the turf. She was admitted inside by a short, mousy woman in a maid's uniform. Looking over her shoulder once at the street, Maia fervently wished that she was somewhere else.
Maia rode despondently back to her apartment. Jimmy kept glancing nervously at her in the rearview. She had never felt so unprepared for a mission before. Durret liked handcuffs. They reminded Maia of hospital restraints. Her wrists were bleeding onto her coat sleeves. In a moment of panic, she'd struggled against the handcuffs even after she felt the skin peel back from her wrists. Her distress had, as was the basic idea of using such props, excited Durret. Maia was only grateful that he was not a man with a great deal of stamina.

Once he was out, snoring, Maia mustered all the professionalism she could, wrapped her wrists with strips of the bedsheets, and peppered the house with transmitters. She placed tiny tracking devices in the hems of all of his shirts and jackets. When she was done, she roused Durret and demanded her money before she ran out front to meet her ride. She said nothing to Jimmy this time, just let him drive. Something is up. she seethed, Anyone could have done that. Hopefully I won't be here to find out what's going on.
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Email: absinthe@earthling.net