whedonist

Fandom: Nikki & Nora

Pairing: Nikki & Nora

Rating: PG-13 to R (depends on the chapter)

Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not my intellectual property. They belong to Nancylee Myatt and other people that I don’t associate with. If they were mine, Nikki & Nora would still be in production and we would all be very very happy. This is for fun…read - me mucking about for some entertainment in another person’s sandbox, not for money. While this has been beta’d, we’re not perfect and I accept full responsibility for all mistakes.

A/N: This picks up about 8 months after Reasons. With only the first chapter of this being completed, updates are going to be coming a little less frequently than a schedule I would like to maintain. My hope is that posting this will spur the muse and I will be able to hammer out the other 8 chapters. This chapter is split into two parts and you will be reading that next week as hopefully it will buy me a little time to at least complete chapter 2. Thank you to my long suffering beta, the poor bastard has to put up with my awful spelling, bless you Dirk! Lastly, read and enjoy.

A/N – Take 2 - This wasn’t supposed to coincide with the IDF, but the cosmos aligned and here it is. Sadly enough, I would also love to join in on the fun at FemslashCon, but I’ve got my partner’s parents in today for a b-day celebration. I’m sorry I’m missing out on all the fun, but hope this makes up for it just a teensy bit.

Ch. 1A – Impermanence

The soft lights reflect off the crystal dinner wear as I glance around the reception hall. The place is littered with tables covered in thick cotton while people in suits and gowns chat amiably with each other. It isn’t so much that I dislike the charity functions and the one or two foundation boards that I sit on…

It’s just…a hand ghosts over mine and then rests firmly on top, linking our fingers together. I blink, stepping away from the petulant child in my head and look over at the smiling face of my partner for the evening.

Jill’s head is cocked to the side and her eyebrow is raised in question. I waive her off and she leans into me, giggling, “Lemme guess, sitting around with a bunch of holier than thou white folks who wouldn’t know the meaning of the word suffering if it came up and beat them with a rubber hose not really cutting it for you tonight gorgeous?”

“In so many words, that’s about it,” I admit.

“Nikki,” she says, shaking her head, “I think you’ve been around Nora way too long.”

I resist the urge to stick my tongue out at her and say instead, “Haven’t been around her nearly long enough. And it’s more than that I suppose. These things are a necessity for charities to get the funding they need; I just would not like to be a cog in the wheel of the hypocrisy that dominates the New Orleans Elite.”

“Ah,” the model says patting my arm, “But the thing of it is, is that you are. It was what you were born in to, no? And hon, it’s not just the elite here in your city; it’s pretty much every-fucking-where.”

“Touché, on both accounts.” I smile at her and make a note to thank Ann for insisting that the two of us attend the dinner of the New Orleans Police and Justice Foundation together. I can at least be thankful that it is an important dinner for the department as the proceeds tonight are going to be going towards a few building renovations and some new equipment for our men and women in uniform.

“Nicolette, be a dear and pass me the pepper and Tabasco sauce you seem to be keepin’ all to yourself,” my father says, smiling at me, his hand outstretched.

My lips purse and I contemplate handing him the requested items. The last check up with his doctor was less than promising.

“Ms. Flemming, if you would be so kind as to,” he says pointing a finger at the requested items.

Jill doesn’t think twice, picking up the Tabasco and pepper shaker to pass to my father as she says, “It’s Missus actually. I’m married.”

His face registers surprise as he turns a little pink and I smirk. “Oh, well,” he stammers looking at her right hand that’s passing him his heartburn in a bottle, “I see that. Tell me who is the lucky man?”

A grin spreads over my friend’s lips in a way that I’ve come to adore on one hand, yet pity the person on the receiving end. “My Ann would be none too pleased by the intimation that she’s endowed with certain external organs, Mr. Beaumont. She,” Ann purrs emphasizing the she, “we’ve been married eight years this past May.” The model beams and continues on while my father does his best not to swallow his tongue, “We were married in Denmark while I was on a shoot.”

“Oh,” my dad stammers again, “How wonderful.” He dabs at his lips with his napkin and I grin around the sip of water from my glass. While he’s been nothing but supportive of me and my choices, I do think that this is his first time coming face to face with another woman with the same proclivities.

I look him over and confirm what I thought all along. I really would like to tell him that my love of the female form isn’t a phase that I haven’t grown out of nor will I.

Jill looks to me and I nod answering the unasked question of my “out” status. She breathes a sigh of relief and my father asks, “How exactly does that work if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Does what work?” she asks.

“Well, division of assets, it’s not legal in the U.S. and are you going to have children?” he answers bluntly.

She smiles and says, “Well there’s a lot that can be done about assets, we’ve got legal paperwork out the wazoo and enough backups to make the Vogons look like they don’t know the meaning of the word ‘paperwork’.”

“Vogons?” I ask.

Rolling her eyes she looks between me and my father, “Do neither of you read?”

“Uh, depends, what’s a Vogon?” ‘Cause really, I have no idea and by a quick glance in my father’s direction I can see he’s just as confused.

“Aliens,” Jill supplies. “Just think of them as paper-pushing, triplicate-loving aliens.”

I nod and shrug. Okay.

“As for kids,” Jill drawls, playing with her wedding ring as it spins around her finger, “Ann and I have crazy jobs and an even crazier schedule.”

My head tilts to the side wondering why this is the first I’m hearing about. The near whistful look in her eye…well, it almost looks like she does want them.

“Besides,” she winks at me, “I’m not a kid person. Ann, maybe, I’ve never seen her interact with them, but I know I’m not.”

Or maybe not. Making a note to bring this up later, I smile at her.

“Ah,” my daddy nods. “That does put a damper in things. I personally would have had a dozen more, if Nikki’s mother would have lived a bit longer.”

“Please,” I laugh and smack my daddy’s arm, “you could barely handle me.”

“My dear after you, a dozen children would have seemed like a holiday,” he laughs and grins at me, leaning back in his chair and rubbing at his stomach.

“Was Nikki really that bad?” Jill leans forward resting her head on the laced fingers of her hands.

“She was,” my daddy says, “a most troublesome child that demanded everything her heart desired.”

“And I made damn sure I got it too.” Smirking, I wink at my friend and we all laugh.

Tonight is a nice change of pace. Although for the past few weeks, things have been quiet. The fact that Nora and I have turned our usually oddball hour job into a regular nine to five at least for the last week or so hasn’t escaped my attention. I will assume that won’t last, but I do intend to enjoy every minute of it while I can.

Mulate’s is bright and the crowd of diners thick as Ann and I look at the entree’s that were just put on our table. She scowls towards my crawfish etouffee and unable to resist I grab my fork, make sure that I grab a chunky piece of mudbug and devour it, smacking my lips in earnest as I chew. Ann’s face scrunches more and she looks down at her own plate, grilled catfish, veggies and a twice-baked potato.

Truthfully, she hates the things, but she’ll also let me eat them unlike Nikki who refuses to even look at me until I’ve brushed my teeth after eating them. Smiling, I take a sip of my water and keep the grin. It’s actually nice just the two of us hanging out. We get to catch up without Nikki or Jill to add their commentary.

“So tell me again, why you eat those things?” Ann asks, shaking me from my thoughts.

“Uh, they’re good,” I reply around a mouthful of the etouffee.

Her nose scrunches and she shakes her head. “To each their own, I guess, but those things are just gross.”

“Why is that? Nikki can’t stand to watch me eat them. They really are good.” I pick up another forkful and eat.

“Uhm…” her mouth screws to the side and she huffs, “I don’t know, but they always just seemed icky.”

“Icky?”

“Yeah, icky as in gross, disgusting, vile or worthy of my ick reflex.” Ann waggles her eyebrows then goes for a subject change, “Do you think it was a good idea sending Jill with Nikki?”

“Depends,” I say setting my fork down, “on if they can go shopping during or after.”

Ann snorts, merriment dancing in her eyes. “So you think we’re crazy?”

“For?” I wonder.

“Well, Nor, look at us,” she answers and idly I wonder if she’s being vague on purpose or if I’m missing something. Before I can ask, she says, “I mean we got together when, ninety-two, and it’s two-thousand-two, I’m with the F.B.I. and you’re with S.C.U. I just think that it’s weird.”

My eyebrow arches of it’s own accord as I feel the need to intake something a little stronger than the water I’ve been drinking, I reach for the Jack and Coke that’s been sitting next to it. “You’ve been thinking about this?” I ask around an ice cube.

“No…well, yeah, I guess. When we were together…”

“For less than a year,” I remind her.

“Yeah, but we were good together,” she says thoughtfully.

“True, would have never lasted though.” I smirk at her.

“No?”

I look her over, the new hair cut that’s shorter than I’m used to seeing on her, but the shoulder length cut and layers look good on her, her eyes are still kind and mischievous all at the same time and still beautiful after our time in our jobs. Staying with her, I can be honest and say I don’t know how it would have happened. Ann’s never been one to shy away from who she is and it’s something that I’ve always respected and to an extent yearned for…

Unthinking, I reach out for her hand and lace our fingers together. “No,” I say definitively, “we’re too much alike for one, but the spots where we’re different, it would have driven us apart.”

She squeezes my hand and nods. “I guess.”

“Plus,” I say, my tone light, “There’s that whole cliché of falling for your high school best friend that you went and did.”

Her face brightens and she looks down at the simple ring and band set on her left hand. “There was that.” I watch as her thumb plays with the underside of the band and she says, “Did I ever apologize for that?”

“No need. I think it worked out for the best.” I wink at her and she snorts.

“Yeah, who’d a thunk? You pretty much shacked up with a politician’s daughter and really Nora, the look is good for you.”

“What look?” I ask, tilting my head to the side.

“You happy…wait you are happy, right?” Her face darkens at the thought.

“Really happy actually. Work’s good and of course there are the bad days and the good days, but Nikki makes both better. I mean we have our problems, the obvious and the not, but we work through most of them,” I answer.

“Yeah, that working through shit’s a pain in the ass. Jill always wants to talk. The crazy thing is that I actually like it. Most anyone else and I’m telling them to stuff it.” I watch my friend for a moment get lost in her own thoughts before she asks, “What about you and Nikki? At the very least you two could move in together. If I’m not mistaken, Jill said that Nikki told her she had broached the subject?”

“Why did we introduce them?” I groan.

“I think our logic went something like if we give Jill a playmate she would be less bothersome and allow the adults to talk,” Ann deadpans.

Rubbing my forehead, I reach for my drink and silently curse the three most important women in my life. Figures that the one sore subject between Nikki and me, Ann had to pick it. “Yeah,” I snip, “she did, but…”

“But what? She loves you, you love her. What’s to ‘but’ about Nor?” Ann cuts me off.

I purse my lips at her interruption then say, “BUT, moving in together takes our complicated situation and makes it more complicated. I don’t think I can handle that,” I try to explain.

“Hmm,” my ex hums and turns her attention back to her food.

I can’t help but think I’ve stepped in something here. I just wish I knew what it was. Shaking it off, I go back to my food as well, trying to salvage the evening.

The truth is, is that I would like to move in with Nikki. I think a year together day in and out is long enough to avoid the U-Haul cliché. Also, the nights she’s by my side I’m better rested and apparently in a better mood.

Dan, in his ignorance, made a point of it during a case he helped with. We were sitting outside a bar waiting for our suspect to come out and he says, “You mind telling me why you’ve been in a foul mood all damn week?” I just stared out the car windshield and tried my best to ignore him, but he was persistent and said, “If I didn’t know any better, and really I don’t, I would say you aren’t getting enough action.”

It was then my eyes slid to him as he leered and his tongue snaked out, licking his lips. “My offer from before still stands Nora.” He winked at me then and for him annoying me, I snorted and flipped him off.

His comments had hit a little too close. I hadn’t seen Nikki all week, I hadn’t slept and he was right, it had been nearly two weeks since Nikki and I shared a bed or intimate moment. To top it all off, I was doubly fed up with fielding phone calls from my mom and Dan’s persistent advances.

I would like to say or at least think that he is someone I could fall into bed with, but despite the rumors, that I think he started, and good work chemistry, I’m gay. I came to that personal revelation sometime ago. Dan’s also confused our platonic chemistry and his libido with a notion of “us” turning into something more.

Ann had once asked why my ‘super gay ass’ had never had a girlfriend before. My answer to that was Catholic guilt and the need to repress. I’m just buried so deep in the proverbial closet I can’t see the light peeking from under the door.

I allow myself a brief moment of brutal honesty and recognize the fear and abject terror the idea of coming out brings. And right before the abyss swallows me up I shove the idea back inside and go back to my food.

It really isn’t a reason to ruin a perfectly good supper.

Chapter 1B