Roll Away Your Stone 4/18
Chapter: I Let Your Heart Down Again
Rating: PG-13 - R ish…language folks…
Pairing: Nikki & Nora
Disclaimer: At some point, don’t these become superfluous? Do we need to consistently rub my, or our collective, nose(s) in the fact that Nikki & Nora do not belong to me? I’m still trying to get over the idea that Buffy and associated characters aren’t mine, let alone these girls…*sigh* Let’s pretend for a little while and then I’ll give ‘em back to Nancylee Myatt and Co.
A/N: It’s late and I don’t have much…well…I have an apology…angst ahoy! Keep the life preservers handy for a bit, we’re in for a bumpy ride and remember it’s women and children to the life boats first folks.
Ch. 4 - I Let Your Heart Down Again
My eyes snap open and I feel more than see that I wake up in the exact same position I fell asleep in; legs drawn up with my arms folded around them. I let them go and push my hands towards the head board and my feet south, reveling in the feel of my muscles going taught. I relax and roll over, prepared to soothe Nora.
As I turn over, I expect to still see her lying there, but instead am faced with a hastily scribbled note:
“Went to clear my head, see you at 8:30 - Nora”
My chest rises, drawing in a deep breath. I push it out through my nose and set the note back down.
Goddmanit!
Sitting up, I swing my legs to the floor and reach for the robe on the end of the bed. My mouth screws to the side as I enter the bathroom. There are really only a few places Nora would go…do I go after her? I turn the shower on and test the water. Satisfied with the temperature, I clip my hair up, brush my teeth and step into the shower.
The water’s nice and hot as I step into the spray, but I take no real joy in it. Going through the basic cleansing rituals, I shut the shower off and reach for my towel. I just don’t get it. Nora’s better than this. I know it.
But…it’s just this one area that she’s intent on falling short on. She won’t budge, not even a little and the little bit I press, which isn’t very often, she just draws up more. I find a pair of slacks and a green button down blouse, panties and bra for the day.
Dressed, I look at the left wall of the closet. I need shoes. I sigh and pull out the latest pair of Vanetta ballet flats that will match my shirt. Slipping them on, I remove the clip, shake out my hair and run my hands through it. I grab my gun and badge and make my way downstairs.
The soft chatter startles me for a second before I remember that Patrick and Chris are now our house guests. Mister sits at the bottom of the steps, wagging his tail happily. I stop and give the mutt a few scratches behind the ear before I step into the kitchen.
“Good Morning you two,” I try for pleasant this morning, despite the fact that it feels like I’ve been up for a few days and got the living shit kicked out of me during that time.
“Morning,” the two lovers parrot back.
Mister gives a soft woof and I shake my head. “All right. Hold your horses big guy, we’ll get you breakfast,” I chide the impatient mutt.
“No need,” Patrick tells me. “I’ve already taken him out and fed him.”
I turn around. “Wow,” glancing at the clock, I see it’s really only seven-thirty, “How long have you been up?”
“Five. Went for a run and came back and took care of Mister. He’s a good dog,” Patrick coo’s at the very end, scratching behind the dog’s ears.
I roll my eyes. “Is this a Delaney thing? Bobby turns into a big pile of goo every time he comes around and Mister wants attention.”
Patrick just nods. “We’re dog people. I’m looking forward to getting a few once we get settled.”
“Uh,” Chris cuts in, “Wait a second here. I don’t remember that conversation.”
Patrick just smirks as I sip my coffee.
“That’s because you were talking about children and I was talking dogs,” the marine answers.
“We both agreed adoption once we were settled here,” Chris says looking for confirmation from his partner.
Patrick gives a long suffering sigh and says, “If I must fulfill your weird need to rear children, then so be it if it means keeping you, but we’re still getting dogs.”
“Fine, but I swear if you get one of those froufrou, queer tiny things, I’m leaving you and shacking up with our pool boy,” Chris teases.
“I swear if you get any gayer you’ll straighten yourself out.” Patrick gives it back to him and I suppress the laugh. It’s not too hard this morning.
“Where’s my sister?” Patrick causally asks.
“Out,” I answer, “I’m going to go get her. We have a few open cases and no time to waste. So if we’re home before midnight, be shocked.” I finish off my cup of coffee and turn towards the side of the fridge where a spare set of house keys are hanging. I unhook them and slide them across the kitchen island. “The one with the blue ring around it is for the front door; the other is for the side doors. If you leave, it’s okay to leave Mister. He’s good about being left in.”
Chris nods and Patrick plays with the rim of his coffee cup. The look of uncertainty he wears I’ve seen on my own lover. It causes me to stop and ask, “What?”
Patrick startles and looks up rather sheepishly. “I just…” His lips purse for a brief moment before I recognize the internal look of ‘fuck it’ and he says, “Look, I know it’s not really my place and I thank you and when I see my bull headed sister, I’ll thank her too. I’m sorry for stirring the hornet’s nest last night. I didn’t know.”
He takes a sip of coffee and continues, “I was, we were quite happy in the hotel, but Bobby found out and my brother’s a nice guy, maybe not too bright though. He thought it’d be a good way for Nora and I to bond or whatever.” He sighs and rubs a hand over his short hair. “It seems like where I’ve had a few dozen therapy sessions to get over my internalized homophobia, Nora hasn’t.”
I swallow past the tightness in my throat and chest to say, “Look, I appreciate the apology, but Nora’s not. She has her issues, I’ll give you that, but it’s not your place…” I back my lover up.
Patrick’s upturned hand causes the rest of my words to die before they reach my lips. “Nikki, it’s wonderful that you’re supporting her.” He shuts his eyes briefly and shakes his head. They pop open and he looks at me. “It’s not like I don’t know the shit my dad said. Every other night, he’d have his friends over, his comrades in arms; they’d sit around and get real loud…the shit they said some nights. Our dad…he was a good ole boy in every sense of the word. Sometimes, I don’t think he knew he was saying half the shit that came out of his mouth.”
“Baby,” Chris says gently, resting a hand on his lover’s shoulder.
Patrick shoves it off and he keeps staring at me. “I can understand why Nora has the hang ups she does. She was always a daddy’s girl. If he said anything to her…if he did something…it’ll take an act of God for Nora to go against her father’s wishes.” He finally breaks our eye contact and looks down in his coffee mug.
“Nora and I have done just fine, Patrick. She’s got her reasons and I respect them,” I say shortly. “You two have a good day.” I grab Bruce’s keys off the counter and head out to find my wayward lover.
It’s one thing I’ve always liked about the punching bag…it doesn’t matter what kind of mood you’re in it just takes whatever you dish out. This morning my knuckles burn, my wrists burn, my hands throb and sweat drips into my eyes, stinging me that much more.
I duck left and lead in with my right, a solid hit to the middle of the old, Duck Taped equipment. There aren’t many people here this morning which is nice. I can ignore the looks and turn down the occasional jerk that tries to pick me up.
It’s a gym, I remind them, not a fucking night club.
Duck, swing up, upper cut. My knuckles skim along the edge of the bag and drag. Even under the tape and the wrap and the gloves, I feel the bruising.
I drop back and picture my brother, standing in front of me. I spin around and Patrick’s face turns into my dad’s right as the kick lands high on the bag. I bite my lip against the sting, immediately turning around and landing a series of punches to my therapist.
My watch goes off as I throw one last left-right combo.
Fuck.
I really don’t want to leave.
But I need to.
I told Nikki I’d find her at eight-thirty. It’s eight. I have just enough time to go shower and make good on my note.
I don’t know if she’ll really want to see me.
I walk over to my bag and use my teeth to undo the gloves. I spit the first one, salty and stale, out of my mouth. It lands palm side up as my left hand tears my right glove off. I watch as it falls against its mate. I unwrap my hands and flex my fingers; slightly swollen, they strain against the sports tape. I look at my left hand. Some red seeped through.
Shit.
Nikki’s gonna be pissed.
See…I just…I shouldn’t.
We’ve done so good the past few years. I know it’s been hard. For her. For me too.
I rip the tape off and the skin that was broke goes with it. It opens the cut a little further causing fresh blood to pool and trail down my knuckles. The skin on both hands is battered and a purple-green color.
I growl and snatch my bag off the bench.
I don’t bother cleaning my hand; I just grab a towel and my shower kit from my bag, take the first open stall and shut the curtain. Stripping off my clothes, I turn the water on as hot as it will go and stick my hand underneath the meager spray. I watch the blood mix with the water, swirling and turning pink, its existence being camouflaged by the dark blue and green tile of the shower stall.
I follow my hand and get wet all over, get soapy and rinse off quickly. I’ll be cutting it close this morning as is. Taking a little over five minutes for me to finish up in the shower, I grab my towel and wrap it around me, heading towards the bench where I left my bag.
Nikki sits there, a fresh set of clothes for me resting on her lap. Her legs are crossed and she looks patient and not angry. It causes me to falter briefly.
Unable to meet her gaze, I look at the floor as I walk to the bench.
She says nothing and I say nothing. I’m not sure if this is one of her games to see who will break first.
Honestly, I’m too ashamed to say much of anything. All I really want to do is curl up in her lap and apologize, make false promises and lies.
I can’t though, because she would know.
She would know and then I couldn’t hide anymore.
Fucking Patrick.
He was right. I’m scared. I hate that I’m scarred and one day, maybe sooner than I’d like to think, Nikki’s going to quit ignoring it and get sick of it.
Then it’ll be me and maybe Mister will go with me…
I think he’ll stay with Nikki though.
I dress quickly, running a brush through my damp hair before pulling it back into a pony tail. With one last tug at the white t-shirt Nikki handed me, I slip my gun and badge onto my belt and zip my bag up, sling it over my shoulder and head towards the exit.
Nikki follows silently.
She always has. It never mattered if she got hurt in the process. She trusts me with it all.
Why can’t I trust her?
Tears sting my eyes as I toss my bag in the back of June Lee and hand Nikki the keys, I don’t really feel up to driving.
Nikki accepts the duty I’ve given her and gets behind the wheel. She takes off and hangs the first right she can, pulling the car over in an alley behind the gym. Saying nothing as she kills the engine, she leans over me.
A little confused, I watch as she locks the passenger side door and unscrews the latch, slipping the small piece of metal into her jacket pocket.
Oh boy.
I don’t take comfort in her first words to me since last night, “I’m going to talk and you, love, are going to listen.” She looks straight ahead. Her hands grip the steering wheel.
“I love you. You need to remember that, but you know what I did this morning? I defended you to Patrick. I defended you and the lies we’ve built together to a man that lost his career for doing what you won’t.” Nikki shakes her head and a tear slips free, I watch it make its way over the hill of her cheek and slopes down to follow the line of her jaw.
“I walked out of our home this morning and realized how fucked up that actually was.” Her lips press together. “I know you’re scared baby. I know you’re angry. At the situation…at what we’ve done to ourselves. Mostly though, I think you’re angry at yourself.” Her chest rises, but it does not fall. She holds the breath tightly.
“I know I’m just as culpable for our life as you are. I told you last night that to have you was the most important thing. That has not nor will it change, but Nora, we’re being given a chance here. A choice that can make us less of a dirty little secret and even more, something to be proud of.”
Her chest has fallen; her shoulders are slumped as she finally looks at me. “And it is something I’m proud of. I love being with you. I love the person you are, the grumpy detective with a quick wit and loyal to a fault. The person you only allow me to see, the grumpy detective with a quick wit and a romantic streak a mile wide. I love the person that shows me she loves in a million little ways, letting me sleep a little later on our days off, making sure I have a cup of coffee and a bite to eat before I leave for work and your fount of patience with my slight addiction to footwear.”
I knew I would find her at the gym. It’s actually a comfort to me too. I don’t need to worry about her finding a bar to get drunk in or something else ridiculously self-destructive, like something I would do. Nope, she goes to the gym. The evidence of her assault on the equipment this morning glares at me from her hands resting in her lap but I decide to let that ride.
I hope my words make sense to her.
Running a hand through my hair, I continue to study her hands, resisting the urge to reach out and soothe the angry skin with my touch. I don’t want to be weak here. I can’t afford to be. Somehow, someway, it feels like I’m fighting for us.
“I don’t think,” she starts out softly, “that I ever intended for it to go this far.” She looks out the side window at the brick wall. I can’t help but wonder what she actually sees. “I was way in over my head with Ann. I knew that. I think that’s why it was easy for me to push her into Jill’s arms.”
“Well, besides the fact that they were in love,” I say lightly. This causes a brief smile from my Nora and a tip of her head in agreement.
“Yeah,” she sighs, “there was that small fact. But with you Nikki, you kinda broke me. All I wanted was to be with you…but there’s this other stuff. My family, for one, but something else. I can’t…” Her eyes shut tight and this time I do reach out and take away a tear I see making its way down her cheek. “I was happy with only wanting to be a cop, a good cop, but still…then you just sort of show up and annoy the piss out of me because over the last few years, I’ve come to find out that being cop is important, but not the most.”
She finally looks at me and offers this morose sort of smile, “Part of me hates that it’s you. You and us are the most important and I hate that because…”
“It makes us weak,” I whisper, knowing exactly what she’s saying. I’ve felt the same way.
My Nora nods. “I think having Patrick here will help. Next to Bobby, he’s my favorite,” she smiles a little more, this time less sadly, “I need…I’m just not sold on telling mama yet. My brother may help.”
“You need more time…” Running my fingers through my hair I close my eyes and find patience. From where I don’t know, but it’s there. I also find the compulsion to add to my acquiescence, “This clock’s been ticking a few years Nora.” Shaking away my unease, I say, “Ya know, Patrick thinks that part of your reluctance is ‘cause of your father. He said, ‘internalized homophobia’.” I shrug. “Maybe he’s right.”
“Bullshit,” she spits.
I look at her and study the fierce green of her eyes. “I don’t know, sugga, there may be a small element of truth to that. It’s lessened some, since we’ve been together, but for some reason, you always stop yourself from doing the things you really want.” I try to reach out and take her hand, but she pulls away from me, pushing back against the passenger door. “You manage to squeak by with the barest.”
“Since when the hell did you become a fucking shrink, Nik?” Nora asks folding her arms across her chest. “What didn’t you understand about what I just said? I just said the only thing I need is you. Nikki that’s all I want and I thought I was doing everything I’m capable of to show you that.”
Sadly, I shake my head. She’s sweet, my Nora, but she’s wrong. I tell her as much. “It’s a grand notion, Nora, it’s romantic and completely you. I love you for that…but it’s bullshit.” I press a finger to her lips stalling the protest there. “We need other people in our lives. We need the parents that are still around. We need your brothers and friends. If it was just you and I, sugga, we’d have ended way before we ever began. We need these people and it’s unfair to them, just as much as it’s unfair to us to keep them in the dark about us.” I draw a breath before I say my final peace, “It’s really unfair to your mother. I don’t think Nancy would be as adverse to everything as you think.”
She brushes my hand away to enforce the idea that she holds firmly too, “You don’t know my mother and you have no idea what this would do to her.”
I bite my tongue and press my lips together. Bobbing my head, I fish out the button to the passenger door lock and had it over. Starting the engine, I manage, “Yeah, I really don’t.”
Next>>>
Rating: PG-13 - R ish…language folks…
Pairing: Nikki & Nora
Disclaimer: At some point, don’t these become superfluous? Do we need to consistently rub my, or our collective, nose(s) in the fact that Nikki & Nora do not belong to me? I’m still trying to get over the idea that Buffy and associated characters aren’t mine, let alone these girls…*sigh* Let’s pretend for a little while and then I’ll give ‘em back to Nancylee Myatt and Co.
A/N: It’s late and I don’t have much…well…I have an apology…angst ahoy! Keep the life preservers handy for a bit, we’re in for a bumpy ride and remember it’s women and children to the life boats first folks.
Ch. 4 - I Let Your Heart Down Again
My eyes snap open and I feel more than see that I wake up in the exact same position I fell asleep in; legs drawn up with my arms folded around them. I let them go and push my hands towards the head board and my feet south, reveling in the feel of my muscles going taught. I relax and roll over, prepared to soothe Nora.
As I turn over, I expect to still see her lying there, but instead am faced with a hastily scribbled note:
“Went to clear my head, see you at 8:30 - Nora”
My chest rises, drawing in a deep breath. I push it out through my nose and set the note back down.
Goddmanit!
Sitting up, I swing my legs to the floor and reach for the robe on the end of the bed. My mouth screws to the side as I enter the bathroom. There are really only a few places Nora would go…do I go after her? I turn the shower on and test the water. Satisfied with the temperature, I clip my hair up, brush my teeth and step into the shower.
The water’s nice and hot as I step into the spray, but I take no real joy in it. Going through the basic cleansing rituals, I shut the shower off and reach for my towel. I just don’t get it. Nora’s better than this. I know it.
But…it’s just this one area that she’s intent on falling short on. She won’t budge, not even a little and the little bit I press, which isn’t very often, she just draws up more. I find a pair of slacks and a green button down blouse, panties and bra for the day.
Dressed, I look at the left wall of the closet. I need shoes. I sigh and pull out the latest pair of Vanetta ballet flats that will match my shirt. Slipping them on, I remove the clip, shake out my hair and run my hands through it. I grab my gun and badge and make my way downstairs.
The soft chatter startles me for a second before I remember that Patrick and Chris are now our house guests. Mister sits at the bottom of the steps, wagging his tail happily. I stop and give the mutt a few scratches behind the ear before I step into the kitchen.
“Good Morning you two,” I try for pleasant this morning, despite the fact that it feels like I’ve been up for a few days and got the living shit kicked out of me during that time.
“Morning,” the two lovers parrot back.
Mister gives a soft woof and I shake my head. “All right. Hold your horses big guy, we’ll get you breakfast,” I chide the impatient mutt.
“No need,” Patrick tells me. “I’ve already taken him out and fed him.”
I turn around. “Wow,” glancing at the clock, I see it’s really only seven-thirty, “How long have you been up?”
“Five. Went for a run and came back and took care of Mister. He’s a good dog,” Patrick coo’s at the very end, scratching behind the dog’s ears.
I roll my eyes. “Is this a Delaney thing? Bobby turns into a big pile of goo every time he comes around and Mister wants attention.”
Patrick just nods. “We’re dog people. I’m looking forward to getting a few once we get settled.”
“Uh,” Chris cuts in, “Wait a second here. I don’t remember that conversation.”
Patrick just smirks as I sip my coffee.
“That’s because you were talking about children and I was talking dogs,” the marine answers.
“We both agreed adoption once we were settled here,” Chris says looking for confirmation from his partner.
Patrick gives a long suffering sigh and says, “If I must fulfill your weird need to rear children, then so be it if it means keeping you, but we’re still getting dogs.”
“Fine, but I swear if you get one of those froufrou, queer tiny things, I’m leaving you and shacking up with our pool boy,” Chris teases.
“I swear if you get any gayer you’ll straighten yourself out.” Patrick gives it back to him and I suppress the laugh. It’s not too hard this morning.
“Where’s my sister?” Patrick causally asks.
“Out,” I answer, “I’m going to go get her. We have a few open cases and no time to waste. So if we’re home before midnight, be shocked.” I finish off my cup of coffee and turn towards the side of the fridge where a spare set of house keys are hanging. I unhook them and slide them across the kitchen island. “The one with the blue ring around it is for the front door; the other is for the side doors. If you leave, it’s okay to leave Mister. He’s good about being left in.”
Chris nods and Patrick plays with the rim of his coffee cup. The look of uncertainty he wears I’ve seen on my own lover. It causes me to stop and ask, “What?”
Patrick startles and looks up rather sheepishly. “I just…” His lips purse for a brief moment before I recognize the internal look of ‘fuck it’ and he says, “Look, I know it’s not really my place and I thank you and when I see my bull headed sister, I’ll thank her too. I’m sorry for stirring the hornet’s nest last night. I didn’t know.”
He takes a sip of coffee and continues, “I was, we were quite happy in the hotel, but Bobby found out and my brother’s a nice guy, maybe not too bright though. He thought it’d be a good way for Nora and I to bond or whatever.” He sighs and rubs a hand over his short hair. “It seems like where I’ve had a few dozen therapy sessions to get over my internalized homophobia, Nora hasn’t.”
I swallow past the tightness in my throat and chest to say, “Look, I appreciate the apology, but Nora’s not. She has her issues, I’ll give you that, but it’s not your place…” I back my lover up.
Patrick’s upturned hand causes the rest of my words to die before they reach my lips. “Nikki, it’s wonderful that you’re supporting her.” He shuts his eyes briefly and shakes his head. They pop open and he looks at me. “It’s not like I don’t know the shit my dad said. Every other night, he’d have his friends over, his comrades in arms; they’d sit around and get real loud…the shit they said some nights. Our dad…he was a good ole boy in every sense of the word. Sometimes, I don’t think he knew he was saying half the shit that came out of his mouth.”
“Baby,” Chris says gently, resting a hand on his lover’s shoulder.
Patrick shoves it off and he keeps staring at me. “I can understand why Nora has the hang ups she does. She was always a daddy’s girl. If he said anything to her…if he did something…it’ll take an act of God for Nora to go against her father’s wishes.” He finally breaks our eye contact and looks down in his coffee mug.
“Nora and I have done just fine, Patrick. She’s got her reasons and I respect them,” I say shortly. “You two have a good day.” I grab Bruce’s keys off the counter and head out to find my wayward lover.
It’s one thing I’ve always liked about the punching bag…it doesn’t matter what kind of mood you’re in it just takes whatever you dish out. This morning my knuckles burn, my wrists burn, my hands throb and sweat drips into my eyes, stinging me that much more.
I duck left and lead in with my right, a solid hit to the middle of the old, Duck Taped equipment. There aren’t many people here this morning which is nice. I can ignore the looks and turn down the occasional jerk that tries to pick me up.
It’s a gym, I remind them, not a fucking night club.
Duck, swing up, upper cut. My knuckles skim along the edge of the bag and drag. Even under the tape and the wrap and the gloves, I feel the bruising.
I drop back and picture my brother, standing in front of me. I spin around and Patrick’s face turns into my dad’s right as the kick lands high on the bag. I bite my lip against the sting, immediately turning around and landing a series of punches to my therapist.
My watch goes off as I throw one last left-right combo.
Fuck.
I really don’t want to leave.
But I need to.
I told Nikki I’d find her at eight-thirty. It’s eight. I have just enough time to go shower and make good on my note.
I don’t know if she’ll really want to see me.
I walk over to my bag and use my teeth to undo the gloves. I spit the first one, salty and stale, out of my mouth. It lands palm side up as my left hand tears my right glove off. I watch as it falls against its mate. I unwrap my hands and flex my fingers; slightly swollen, they strain against the sports tape. I look at my left hand. Some red seeped through.
Shit.
Nikki’s gonna be pissed.
See…I just…I shouldn’t.
We’ve done so good the past few years. I know it’s been hard. For her. For me too.
I rip the tape off and the skin that was broke goes with it. It opens the cut a little further causing fresh blood to pool and trail down my knuckles. The skin on both hands is battered and a purple-green color.
I growl and snatch my bag off the bench.
I don’t bother cleaning my hand; I just grab a towel and my shower kit from my bag, take the first open stall and shut the curtain. Stripping off my clothes, I turn the water on as hot as it will go and stick my hand underneath the meager spray. I watch the blood mix with the water, swirling and turning pink, its existence being camouflaged by the dark blue and green tile of the shower stall.
I follow my hand and get wet all over, get soapy and rinse off quickly. I’ll be cutting it close this morning as is. Taking a little over five minutes for me to finish up in the shower, I grab my towel and wrap it around me, heading towards the bench where I left my bag.
Nikki sits there, a fresh set of clothes for me resting on her lap. Her legs are crossed and she looks patient and not angry. It causes me to falter briefly.
Unable to meet her gaze, I look at the floor as I walk to the bench.
She says nothing and I say nothing. I’m not sure if this is one of her games to see who will break first.
Honestly, I’m too ashamed to say much of anything. All I really want to do is curl up in her lap and apologize, make false promises and lies.
I can’t though, because she would know.
She would know and then I couldn’t hide anymore.
Fucking Patrick.
He was right. I’m scared. I hate that I’m scarred and one day, maybe sooner than I’d like to think, Nikki’s going to quit ignoring it and get sick of it.
Then it’ll be me and maybe Mister will go with me…
I think he’ll stay with Nikki though.
I dress quickly, running a brush through my damp hair before pulling it back into a pony tail. With one last tug at the white t-shirt Nikki handed me, I slip my gun and badge onto my belt and zip my bag up, sling it over my shoulder and head towards the exit.
Nikki follows silently.
She always has. It never mattered if she got hurt in the process. She trusts me with it all.
Why can’t I trust her?
Tears sting my eyes as I toss my bag in the back of June Lee and hand Nikki the keys, I don’t really feel up to driving.
Nikki accepts the duty I’ve given her and gets behind the wheel. She takes off and hangs the first right she can, pulling the car over in an alley behind the gym. Saying nothing as she kills the engine, she leans over me.
A little confused, I watch as she locks the passenger side door and unscrews the latch, slipping the small piece of metal into her jacket pocket.
Oh boy.
I don’t take comfort in her first words to me since last night, “I’m going to talk and you, love, are going to listen.” She looks straight ahead. Her hands grip the steering wheel.
“I love you. You need to remember that, but you know what I did this morning? I defended you to Patrick. I defended you and the lies we’ve built together to a man that lost his career for doing what you won’t.” Nikki shakes her head and a tear slips free, I watch it make its way over the hill of her cheek and slopes down to follow the line of her jaw.
“I walked out of our home this morning and realized how fucked up that actually was.” Her lips press together. “I know you’re scared baby. I know you’re angry. At the situation…at what we’ve done to ourselves. Mostly though, I think you’re angry at yourself.” Her chest rises, but it does not fall. She holds the breath tightly.
“I know I’m just as culpable for our life as you are. I told you last night that to have you was the most important thing. That has not nor will it change, but Nora, we’re being given a chance here. A choice that can make us less of a dirty little secret and even more, something to be proud of.”
Her chest has fallen; her shoulders are slumped as she finally looks at me. “And it is something I’m proud of. I love being with you. I love the person you are, the grumpy detective with a quick wit and loyal to a fault. The person you only allow me to see, the grumpy detective with a quick wit and a romantic streak a mile wide. I love the person that shows me she loves in a million little ways, letting me sleep a little later on our days off, making sure I have a cup of coffee and a bite to eat before I leave for work and your fount of patience with my slight addiction to footwear.”
I knew I would find her at the gym. It’s actually a comfort to me too. I don’t need to worry about her finding a bar to get drunk in or something else ridiculously self-destructive, like something I would do. Nope, she goes to the gym. The evidence of her assault on the equipment this morning glares at me from her hands resting in her lap but I decide to let that ride.
I hope my words make sense to her.
Running a hand through my hair, I continue to study her hands, resisting the urge to reach out and soothe the angry skin with my touch. I don’t want to be weak here. I can’t afford to be. Somehow, someway, it feels like I’m fighting for us.
“I don’t think,” she starts out softly, “that I ever intended for it to go this far.” She looks out the side window at the brick wall. I can’t help but wonder what she actually sees. “I was way in over my head with Ann. I knew that. I think that’s why it was easy for me to push her into Jill’s arms.”
“Well, besides the fact that they were in love,” I say lightly. This causes a brief smile from my Nora and a tip of her head in agreement.
“Yeah,” she sighs, “there was that small fact. But with you Nikki, you kinda broke me. All I wanted was to be with you…but there’s this other stuff. My family, for one, but something else. I can’t…” Her eyes shut tight and this time I do reach out and take away a tear I see making its way down her cheek. “I was happy with only wanting to be a cop, a good cop, but still…then you just sort of show up and annoy the piss out of me because over the last few years, I’ve come to find out that being cop is important, but not the most.”
She finally looks at me and offers this morose sort of smile, “Part of me hates that it’s you. You and us are the most important and I hate that because…”
“It makes us weak,” I whisper, knowing exactly what she’s saying. I’ve felt the same way.
My Nora nods. “I think having Patrick here will help. Next to Bobby, he’s my favorite,” she smiles a little more, this time less sadly, “I need…I’m just not sold on telling mama yet. My brother may help.”
“You need more time…” Running my fingers through my hair I close my eyes and find patience. From where I don’t know, but it’s there. I also find the compulsion to add to my acquiescence, “This clock’s been ticking a few years Nora.” Shaking away my unease, I say, “Ya know, Patrick thinks that part of your reluctance is ‘cause of your father. He said, ‘internalized homophobia’.” I shrug. “Maybe he’s right.”
“Bullshit,” she spits.
I look at her and study the fierce green of her eyes. “I don’t know, sugga, there may be a small element of truth to that. It’s lessened some, since we’ve been together, but for some reason, you always stop yourself from doing the things you really want.” I try to reach out and take her hand, but she pulls away from me, pushing back against the passenger door. “You manage to squeak by with the barest.”
“Since when the hell did you become a fucking shrink, Nik?” Nora asks folding her arms across her chest. “What didn’t you understand about what I just said? I just said the only thing I need is you. Nikki that’s all I want and I thought I was doing everything I’m capable of to show you that.”
Sadly, I shake my head. She’s sweet, my Nora, but she’s wrong. I tell her as much. “It’s a grand notion, Nora, it’s romantic and completely you. I love you for that…but it’s bullshit.” I press a finger to her lips stalling the protest there. “We need other people in our lives. We need the parents that are still around. We need your brothers and friends. If it was just you and I, sugga, we’d have ended way before we ever began. We need these people and it’s unfair to them, just as much as it’s unfair to us to keep them in the dark about us.” I draw a breath before I say my final peace, “It’s really unfair to your mother. I don’t think Nancy would be as adverse to everything as you think.”
She brushes my hand away to enforce the idea that she holds firmly too, “You don’t know my mother and you have no idea what this would do to her.”
I bite my tongue and press my lips together. Bobbing my head, I fish out the button to the passenger door lock and had it over. Starting the engine, I manage, “Yeah, I really don’t.”
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