A Thousan Oceans - Ch. 10

[whedonist]

Fandom: Nikki & Nora
Pairing: Nikki/Nora
Rating: PG-13 to R (depends on the chapter)
Title: A Thousand Oceans – Ch.10 – A Close Watch

Disclaimer: These characters well, Nikki, Nora, Dan, Darius, Georgia, Charlie, Arthur, Bobby and Mrs. Delaney are so not mine (damnit!), but Ann and Jill and other characters not mentioned in the pilot are (Ha!). The ones in the “damnit!” category belong to Nancylee Myatt and other’s I don’t know. I’m here for a bit of fun, and for this story, angst. No profit is being made here, and if it is, I’m not seeing a dime.

A/N: Because I have an amazing Beta, he was able to turn this puppy around in short order so…everyone thank Dirk…pinch his cheek, call him as cute as a button (I wanna see him flush red) *giggles*

Alright enough embarrassing my beta, in all seriousness he’s a god send, but did inform that while he likes Nikki & Nora, if I ever quit writing Buffy fic, we’re getting a divorce and he's suing for custody on the Buffy stories…I’m not sure how I feel about that…

Other than that, I’ve got nothin’. Take care everyone and thank you for sticking around to read the remaining insanity.

I keep a close watch on this heart of mine
I keep my eyes wide open all the time

Ch. 10 – A Close Watch

My leg bounces on its own. I wish it would stop, but doctors and shrinks alike all give me the same type of creeps. The creeps that give me an urge to bolt for the nearest exit at top speed and never look back. I haven’t yet for two reasons: the fact that Nikki is sitting across from me and the looks she keeps sending my way and the other is because if I don’t do this, I’m stuck at my desk and playing at being Dan’s file bitch for the foreseeable future.

That’s not happening.

So here I sit, on a chilly but bright Tuesday morning in early November, my leg bouncing up and down a mile a minute with Nikki rolling her eyes at me every few minutes. The department shrinks office is actually in our building, which is nice, but it’s on the fourth floor and the space has only one window through which to view the deceptively cool morning.

The receptionist sits behind her desk, in the neutral toned office, clicking away at her keyboard. Her phone buzzes and she picks it up, “Yes…okay.” She swivels in our direction and smiles at me. Young, okay looking, couldn’t hold a candle to Nikki, but she’s got kind eyes and says, “Detective Delaney, Dr. Williams will see you now.”

I nod and swallow the lump in my throat. Standing, I wipe my palms on my jeans and head towards the door to his office. Before walking through the now open doorway, my hand on the knob, Nikki says behind me, “Knock ‘em dead tiger.”

Then she snickers.

She will be getting paid back for that.

I’m not sure when, but I will exact revenge.

I square my shoulders, ignore her and close the door behind me.

This isn’t the first time I’ve been in here. Probably won’t be the last; it still doesn’t mean I have to get used to it or like it. The doc sits in one of the soft cushioned, nearly lay-z-boy chairs that surround a small coffee table. He stands and smiles as I take him in, six-foot-two with a halo of wispy brown hair around his otherwise shiny head, salt and pepper beard, myopic brown eyes and a cheesy grin.

Sometimes I hate my job.

“Detective Delaney, it’s good to see you,” he says offering an outstretched hand.

I smile at him and nod taking his hand in mine, it’s cool and dry, a stark contrast to my warm slightly clammy one. “Sir,” I say and take an open seat.

We settle in and he takes a file from the coffee table, gives it a cursory glance inside and then looks up at me. “I was just reviewing the information from your last job. Interesting case.”

I shrug. It was a case. People didn’t die. The bad guys were caught. It was an okay day despite the havoc it wrought on my personal life.

“Would you like to talk about it?” he asks, crossing his legs.

Great.

What is this shit? I mean we’re cops. We know the score signing up that we get to see the worst and handle the fall out.

“There’s not a whole lot to say,” I offer him.

“Okay, well then let’s get a few things out of the way. I know that you really don’t want to be here. If the brass hadn’t said it was required for you to see me to get back out there then you and I would probably never cross paths,” he says this like he’s reading a menu at a restaurant. “So let’s make this easy on both of us. I need to know if you are fit to return to work. I’m going to ask you a few questions and then we can go from there. Is that fair?”

I sigh. “Yeah.”

“At the scene, Agent Meagan Diea of the A.T.F. approached you, your partner, Special Agent Ann Flemming and Detective Nikki Beaumont; please tell me about the altercation.”

“Agent Flemming and I had just come out of hangar seven-two-dash–six after securing our suspects and clearing the hangar. The explosion caused a temporary hearing loss, a few cuts and scrapes, but we were required to have medic check us out. Agent Flemming’s boss, Director Malone was insistent. Detective Beaumont showed up at the scene with our Lieutenant, Dan Harney.” I say all this in the exact same voice I use when giving testimony on one of my cases. Clear, concise and to the point, my tone and inflection strictly professional. “While Flemming, Beaumont and I were talking, I saw Diea approach. I couldn’t hear her very well, but the way that Beaumont reacted I knew that Diea was upset. I stood to talk to the agent when my partner, Nikki Beaumont, stepped in front of me and hit Agent Diea.”

“And why did Detective Beaumont assault Agent Diea?” he asks.

“Agent Diea was coming after me. Her fist was cocked and it looked like she was going to hit me. My partner protected me,” I answer and shift in my seat.

“And then,” he says flipping up a few pages in the file that he has on his lap, “You proceeded to hit the other agent with Diea. Why?”

“He was going to hit my partner,” I say. My teeth go back to clenching together before I amend, “Look, you don’t come after other officers. My partner had my back and I had hers.”

The doctor nods and lets the pages fall that he was holding up. “Fair enough. The report here also indicates that you and Agent Flemming had prior knowledge of the explosives set to detonate. Is that true?”

I nod. “There were a string of similar operations ending the same way. We knew going in that charges may or may not go off.”

“Why not stop and evacuate prior or why not make the arrests beforehand?”

“Did you read the full file?” I ask.

“Yes. What I’m interested in is the fact that two seasoned officers went in knowing that the place they were going into was a ticking time bomb. Why?” He raises his eyebrow at me and smiles. It’s supposed to be disarming and I’m sure it works for a lot of people.

It doesn’t work for me.

“The situation dictated that the bust happen. We weren’t just trying to collar the Sung’s. There were bigger players that we needed to ferret out. Ann and I going in knowing the situation was hot was the best and safest option.”

“So you two decided to be the sacrificial lambs?”

“No, it wasn’t like that. You know just as well as any other cop that it’s part of the job. That’s what we were doing. Why I’m even here is completely beyond me. I socked an agent who was getting ready to hit my partner. I stopped that from happening shortly after I helped make one of the best collars a joint venture with two federal agencies and the N.O.P.D. have ever had. I’m sitting here getting the third degree from someone who doesn’t have a clue what it’s like to put their ass on the line,” I spit, jaw clenching and completely fed up with this bullshit.

He’s sitting there making it sound like I’m a cop on a suicide mission. Yes, Ann and I knew that it was dangerous. We assumed the place was already wired with explosives before we went in, but to us there wasn’t an option.

We took a gamble and came out ahead. John collared the director inside the F.B.I. who was dirty, we stopped a family of gun smugglers and the good guys went home in one piece while the streets were marginally safer.

In what reality is that not a win?

He grins at me then and tosses the file on the coffee table. “Fair enough, Detective.” He rises from his chair and motions for me to stand with him. “I think we’re good. If you could send in Detective Beaumont before you leave.”

I nearly run out of the office. It’s not like I need to be told twice. Far more important things that need to be done.

---

I look up as the door to the inner office swings open and Nora comes striding out. She nods at me and says, “He’s ready for you. I’m going to grab some coffee and wait.”

She offers no other acknowledgement before striding out the door.

I suppress my smile. My girl hates, absolutely hates, doctors and by her tone and posture, the conversation they had didn’t end that well. Or maybe it ended well enough. She didn’t shoot or deck the doc.

I walk through the open doorway and our shrink is sitting in his chair. He stands and greets me in probably the same fashion that he does every other cop that comes through here. I wonder how many of them give the man a hard time.

He looks no worse for the wear and I smile easily.

“Detective Beaumont, nice to meet you. Why don’t you take a seat and we’ll get started,” he indicates a chair across from him and is it odd that I know this is where Nora sat while she was in here.

“What?” he asks, resuming his seat and picking a file from the small stack on the coffee table.

“I’m just thinking my partner gave you a run for your money,” I say, smiling.

He laughs easily and nods. “Detective Delaney is…my father used to say firecracker for the little girls in our neighborhood that were feisty.”

“Nora is that, doc,” I agree with him.

“Well at least we can agree on that, but let’s not talk about your partner’s temperament. I’m sure you have a better working knowledge of it than I. I was reading things over and it looks like you two have been working with each for nearly two years.”

“There abouts,” I confirm, crossing my legs and resting my clasped hands on my top knee.

“You work well together?” he asks easily mirroring my posture.

“We do. She’s a good cop and a good partner.”

“These last sets of cases you worked, was that the first time you two worked independently of each other since transferring in to Special Crimes?” Doctor Williams relaxes back in his seat and looks over at me blinking expectantly.

“It was,” I answer. I’m not really going to make this that easy on him.

“And your last closed case involved a little boy, Lance. He confessed to the murder of his parents.” He’s done his homework. That was to be expected. But he ruins it when he follows up a statement of the facts with, “How’d that work out with you?”

I smirk. “You mean to ask, how did that make me feel?” I roll my eyes for good measure.

He clucks his tongue and shakes his head slightly. “I see. Okay, Detective, I’m going to give you the same little speech I gave your partner. I’m not the enemy. If it weren’t required as a condition of you going back on active duty, you wouldn’t be here. Having said that, it’s my job to ensure that you are mentally fit to return to duty given the circumstance surrounding your suspension. Let’s make this easy on both of us.”

“Fine,” I say crossing my arms over my chest. “If you were to have an eight year old look at you and say that he stabbed his mother and father to death, how exactly do you think that would make you feel? It was awful. It is also an unfortunate aspect of the job.” I unfold my arms and sit up a little straighter.

“Cops get to see the worst. We’re depicted as the enemy in the media; the public doesn’t like us because we hold a certain modicum of power over them. You add that in to the fact that you get to see the worst people have to offer their fellow man and an eight year old killer and all in doc, it makes you feel like shit,” I give it to him straight. “But that’s okay. I did my job, I do my job well.”

He nods at that and says, “You do. You’re record is exemplary. What I’m curious about is why you chose police work.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Because I felt I could do some good,” I give him the pat answer.

“Do you think you decking a federal agent is good?”

My eyes narrow and I snip, “When said agent is coming after my wounded partner, bent on causing her more hurt, you bet your ass. I was protecting the cop that watches my back. She’s lucky all she came out with was a bruised jaw and wounded ego. You don’t go after fellow officers, federal or local.”

He grins a little. “You know your partner said almost the exact same thing.”

“Well,” I huff, “We see eye to eye on a lot of things.”

“That’s not surprising. Reading over your service files, both you and Detective Delaney have both lost a parent. You both climbed quickly through the ranks of the department. You two seem to be a good match. One question, and do me the service of answering honestly, since this was the first time you two have been required to work independently of the other, the protection of your partner seemed a little excessive. Why?”

I purse my lips, trying to gauge just how much I should give. I decide on a variation of the truth. “The case Detective Delaney was working was dangerous to begin with. Add in the way the bust went down and her condition at the scene, I was worried. My reaction to Agent Diea was a little excessive, but I feel that it wasn’t completely unwarranted. Agent Flemming and Detective Delaney did their best to keep everyone safe and make the bust at the same time.”

“Did Diea attack first?”

“Yes and no. She was yelling, coming at the three of us. She had her fist cocked back and made a move towards my partner. I reacted accordingly. You should ask the agent why she chose to try to assault a member of the police force,” I say.

“We did ask, well their version of me did. That discussion was enlightening.”

“I bet,” I snicker and he grins.

“So, now the question becomes this, where do we go from here? I can only infer from your jacket and personal history, that there’s something there. Much the same way that I can only infer from your partners.”

“And just what exactly does that mean?” I ask, not sure if I really want to know the answer to the question.

“It means that I have to make an educated guess. It also gives me the ability to stick my nose in where it may or may not belong. I’m responsible for you in a way. So I’ll say this and then you can join Detective Delaney back at your desks. Fear is powerful. It can be a great motivator or it can stop someone dead in their tracks. You both need to keep that in mind.”

He leans forward in his chair, elbows resting on his knees as he says, “I would have given your partner the same advice, but she wasn’t as receptive. I suggest you take a look at what those fears are and make a decision.”

I purse my lips and snip, “I can leave?”

He nods and I stand moving towards the door.

“Detective,” he calls out, as I’m halfway out the door, “Believe me when I say I understand. If you need to talk, my door’s open.”

I roll my eyes and step out into the waiting room. Nora stands, greeting me, tucks a paper under her arm and follows me out.

---

I follow my brown-eyed beauty out the doors of the department and towards June Lee. She’s being insistent that we go out for lunch. After the shrink visit we swung by our desks, picked up our messages and then Nikki promptly declared that she needed to get away.

I’m not too sure what happened inside that office, but when she came out her hackles were raised in a stunning fashion. I knew better than to say anything so I tucked the classifieds under my arm and followed her out.

“So, where are we going?” I ask as I turn my baby over and look over at Nikki.

“Head over to Broussard and 9th. I’m gonna introduce you to the best deli our city has ever seen.”

The area that she’s sending us to isn’t that great. Over in the fourth ward and not the best, but if the food’s good, I’ve got a couple of vests stashed behind the bench seat of my car.

The ride is silent as she plays with the stereo. Nikki can’t really seem to settle on a station and I’m about ready to turn the damn thing off when she settles on a soft jazz station that’s at least playing something decent. I recognize the melody as a Dizzy Gillespie tune that’s arrangement has been altered. I can’t figure out who’s playing the cover though.

That will work.

We come to a light and I look over at her. Nikki’s head rests on the back window, her eyes are closed and there’s a slight frown on her face. I purse my lips and accelerate as the light turns green.

Without opening her eyes or turning to me, she says, “At the next light hang a right and find a parking spot. We’re going to Gumpy’s.”

I follow her direction and shortly thereafter we are sitting in small corner booth. Nikki’s placed both our orders and is looking rather proud of herself as she sips on her Diet Coke. Deciding that now’s as good a time as any, I pull the paper from my back pocket and slide it over to her.

While she was getting shrunk, I went and grabbed some coffee and a paper. Luckily, there were some places that are up for rent that look promising. The ones closest to work and that didn’t read like they needed to be doused in bleach and/or required a crime scene cleanup crew or a contractor, I circled.

I gnaw on my lip and let her look the paper over.

As it slides into her line of sight, she looks up at me. Her eyebrow is arched and her brow is furrowed.

“What’s this?” she asks with a cluck of her tongue.

I try for a sheepish smile given the fact that she’s been…crabby, yep, we’re gonna go with crabby, since we left Williams’ office. And I get it. I wasn’t too pleased either…the prick.

“Well, uh, apartment listings. I was thinkin’ we should start looking. I mean my place and your place really aren’t that big, but if we…when we move in together, I know we’ll need more space.” I try to lighten the mood a little and tease, “You’re wardrobe and shoe collection alone could probably take a spare bedroom or two.”

Her nose crinkles as she sticks her tongue out at me and says, “Just ‘cause my spare bedroom closet is packed to the hilt…”

“And your hall closet too, Nik,” I gently remind her.

She huffs and blows the bangs from her eyes. “And what brought this on?”

I gape at her a second before I shut my mouth. Does she not remember? It really hasn’t been that long.

“You. Me. Finding a place together? Did you forget I said we should start looking?” I remind her a little hurt and a little annoyed that I’m hurt.

“Oh,” she says, blinking. “I thought that was you in post,” her voice drops as a few patrons pass by, “orgasmic bliss, talking nonsense.”

I squint at her, my left eye nearly closing. Deciding that she’s not joking, I school my features and resist the twitch in my hand to find hers. Instead, I lean forward, my left index finger stabbing at the paper. “Look, despite our joint idiocy over the past few weeks, I meant every word I said Nikki. I know what I want.”

“And that would be what, Nora?” she asks, so casually that I’m half tempted to kick her under the table.

My jaw clenches and it takes every ounce of control I have to not kick her or gather her in my arms right now. They’re duel emotions, the need to reassure and the need to knock some sense into her, that war for dominance. “Nikki, I’m not real clear on what you’re playing at, but let me make these intentions of mine perfectly clear,” I annunciate slowly, so that she hears every word I have to offer, “I’m very certain that it’s you. It’s us. So suck it up Beaumont and get on the damn train.”

She gives nothing away as she leans back in the booth, her arms fold across her chest.

“I don’t wanna argument from you. We’re going apartment hunting,” I state, jabbing the paper for good measure and amend, “So look these over while I find a restroom.”

It’s then that she leans forward her arms dropping to her side and comes so close I can almost reach out with my tongue and lick the tip of her nose. I go slightly cross-eyed trying to keep her in focus, but I don’t pull back and manage to see the small smirk forming on her lips.

“You do know,” she purrs, “You getting worked up like this is incredibly sexy.”

I pull back and scowl at her.

She leans back again and offers a very cheeky grin. “Why don’t you go powder that cute, button nose of yours while I find us a place to live.” With that she picks up the paper and begins scanning the print.

I shake my head and slide from the booth we’re occupying. Not entirely sure how to gauge that entire interaction I find the restroom and lock the door behind me. I let the cold water run a minute before leaning over and splashing my face.

If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand and ten times, Nikki Beaumont will be the death of me.

My problem is that I really couldn’t think of a better way to go.

---

I tap my index finger against my nose and peer into my closet. I’m having the damndest time figuring out what I should take over to Nora’s. It was agreed when she dropped me off at home that I would gather some things to stay over at her place for the week while she went and tracked down that brother of hers.

I know he hasn’t answered her phone calls and she’s more than a little worried. Which means that I’m more than a little worried. His reaction wasn’t the best, but on the upside it wasn’t the worst.

“Kouz, that closet ain’t gonna give you the meaning of life,” Darius teases me. He stopped by shortly after I got home and now the smart ass is sitting on my bed.

“I just don’t know what to take over,” I pout. I spin on my heel and sulk back to the bed, flop down on my back and giggle as he lies down with me while poking me in the ribs.

“Clothes are good. Maybe a toothbrush, hairbrush, that fancy ass perfume you’re so fond of,” he says grinning at me. He opens up his arms and I accept the invitation.

Snuggling into his side, I lay my hand across his chest and loosely gather his t-shirt in my fist. “So, what have you been up to today?”

I feel him shrug underneath me as his hand runs through my hair. “Was at the studio helping a few people out. Gram needed me to take her to the store. Nothing too serious.”

I roll my eyes. Darius may fool most. He can’t fool me. This man has his finger in more pies than anyone I know. He has a zydeco band, he works part time at a music studio helping young NOLA artists produce demos and has on occasion written a few songs or two. He’s got contacts with some of the largest charitable organizations in the city and with my help we get to steer the tax write off money for the blue bloods of the city to foundations and organizations that can actually use it. He’s a saint and a half to his grandmother and not to mention he’s my go to man for just about anything I need.

He really is way too good to me.

We just ain’t gonna say anything about that though.

“Hmm, how was the studio?” I ask.

“It was pretty cool. There’s this group of kids trying to get a demo together to submit for this national contest. Yabo’s trying to help them get it together. I stepped in and I think, if they can lay the vocals right, it’ll be a solid piece of music.”

“And what about Trish?” I ask gently. Trish is his off again, on again girlfriend. I marvel at the fact that Darius had the gall to tell me to quit “fucking around” when he does that better than most.

Of course, my string of one night stands isn’t really comparable to his serial monogamy. He just refuses to find a woman and commit.

I’ve never really been able to figure out why my boy won’t settle down. There’s usually some excuse he gives, “they’re too needy”, “they don’t give me enough attention”, “they don’t like…” and then he’d insert one thing or another that was in his words, “not gonna fly with me.” So I let him carry on.

The only thing is, is that this girl, Trish, has stuck around for the longest, we’re hitting the five month mark and he’s yet to provide me with an excuse about their breaking up which leads me to suspect that they are in fact, still together.

I hear him sigh above me and say, “She okay. We went out last night, took her to Phantoms and that bartender, Cassie, you introduced me to, hooked us up.”

I angle my neck and look at him, a sly grin etching my features. “Cassie “hooked you up”? “

He nods, grinning down at me. “Said something about any friend of Nora’s…speaking of, she and Cassie used to bounce?”

I scowl at him and slap his chest as he wiggles his eyebrows.

“You know that and you ain’t ripped the girl’s arms off?”

I pout at him and whine, “I’m not that bad.”

I laugh and I feel his body shake. “Nikki, I’m not sure who you tryin’ to fool with that bullshit, but seriously. Remember a few weeks back or okay a month and a half ago; I took you guys to that little club on the edge of the Quarter. The jock that tried to dance with Nora.” He looks down at me, making a point with his smirk. “I thought you was gonna go to blows with the brotha.”

“He copped a feel on my girlfriend!” I say indignantly.

“His hand brushed Nora’s behind. That ain’t copping a feel, that’s an ‘Oops, didn’t see you standing there’”

I roll my eyes and say, “You’re avoiding the question though, how are things with you and Trish?”

“Good. She’s different. I like it,” he answers.

“Well then, we’re going to have to get together for dinner, how about next Monday. Nora and I are off and you shouldn’t have anything going on?”

“I think that’d be cool. She’s curious about you. She’s seen the pictures at my place.”

I was about to respond to that, but we’re interrupted by a knock at the front door. I sit up and look at the clock on my dresser. Crap.

I’m not even packed.

“Do you...” I start to ask.

“I’ll get the door. You finish packing,” he interrupts, hopping off the bed, planting a kiss on top of my head and goes for the door.

He’s such a charmer.

I get up and go to my closet. Selecting a few blouses and some pants, I put them in the garment bag hanging off my bathroom door. Shoes. I need to figure out what shoes.

“Hey,” Nora says.

I spin around and smile at her.

“Why aren’t you ready?” she asks, hands on her hips.

“I get a ‘hey’ and nothing more?” I tease stepping into her personal space. Not waiting on an answer, I pull her to me; our bodies flush, and plant a firm kiss on her pouty lips.

She pulls back and smirks. “Get your shoes and let’s go.”

I roll my eyes but do as requested. We need to get going. Early day and all that.