Fic: Chopsticks

[stillxmyxheart]

Title: Chopsticks
Author: Mary (stillxmyxheart)
Beta: Lindsay (nylana)
Rating: G
Genre: Gen, Fluff, Angst
Word Count: 3,300
Characters/Pairings: April, Nathan
Summary: Just another Friday dinner at Nathan's house.

A/N: So there's been a lot of Daddy!Gates love going around lately (as well there should be). This idea popped into my head a few days ago (it's actually the one that inspired the Will/Quinn fic I just posted), and I wasn't sure at first if I would write it, but the more I thought about it, the more I felt like I needed to. April and Nathan's relationship is rapidly becoming my favorite overall, even more so than April/Simon or Sam/April, because they're both just so awesome and I honestly cannot get enough of them, and I felt like I kind of wanted to look at them in the very early days of their relationship, before Simon came into the picture. Enjoy, bbs ♥


Nathan smiles as he passes behind April, noticing the way her ankles are wrapped around the legs of her stool, pink painted toes just touching the bottom rung.

She's cutting up potatoes and telling him about her meeting that afternoon with a group of kids from one of the city's middle schools.

"They're asking me what it's like to work at the White House, what it's like to be the Press Secretary... I've barely had this job a year. Sometimes I feel like I don't even know how to do half of the things I'm supposed to do." She frowns as she cuts a bad spot out of the potato she's working on.

Nathan laughs softly as he checks the roast in the oven before stepping to the refrigerator to take out the broccoli, moving to place it on the clear side of the island across from April.

"You're doing fine, April," he says as he grabs a clean knife before settling onto his stool. "Harrison wouldn't have wanted me to hire you if he didn't think you could do the job."

A smile flickers across her face as she drops the newly quartered potato into the pot before reaching for another whole one.

"I don't think the Vice President likes me very much," she murmurs.

Nathan shakes his head as he cuts into the broccoli. "Sam can be stubborn sometimes. He'll come around." He pauses, brushing bits of broccoli from his fingers. "And if he doesn't, well, that's just his loss, isn't it?" He glances up at April, pleased to see the corner of her mouth rising. "Don't know why you'd want to be friends with him anyway. He's a bit of a tosser, really."

April's laughter fills the kitchen and Nathan grins as he looks up at her. It's something he's come to love over the past year, the sound of April's laughter ringing through his house. It's been just over four years since Emily died and sometimes the silence and the loneliness are almost too much to bear. Simon's currently assigned to the field office in New York City and isn't able to visit very often, so having April over for dinner every couple of weeks or so helps to alleviate those feelings, and also serves Nathan's need to make sure she's doing okay. He's not sure why he's so drawn to her, why he's had such a strong desire to protect her from almost the moment he met her, but he's come to anticipate these evenings where he can interact with her outside of work and really get to know her.

He turns his attention back to the task at hand, and then looks up sharply when he hears April gasp. The knife slips from her hand, clattering to the cutting board as she stares at her finger.

"April?" Nathan says, concern flashing through him as he sets his own knife down and stands.

"It's - it's nothing, just a little cut," she says as he walks around the island towards her. "It just surprised me."

Nathan takes her hand in his, his fingers brushing over her palm, and as he turns her hand to see the cut, he glimpses the pale white scar that bisects her life line. He passes his thumb lightly over it and as he opens his mouth to ask her about it, he feels her tense.

He snaps his mouth shut and turns his attention to her cut. He only knows a very little about her past, but he's inferred enough from what she's told him that her tension over her scar is a clear indicator of when it happened, and he's not going to upset her by asking her uncomfortable questions.

"It's not very deep," he murmurs. "C'mere," he says, tugging her gently off the stool and leading her over to the sink. He leaves her to wash her hands and when he returns a moment later, he's got a band-aid between his fingers.

He carefully pats her skin dry and then wraps the band-aid around her finger, securing it in place before glancing up at her face.

"Too tight?" he asks, meeting her eyes.

"N - No," she whispers, shaking her head as she bites her lip. She pulls her gaze from his, her brow creasing slightly as she looks down.

"April?" he says, frowning as he dips his head to see her face. His concern makes him touch her in a way he hasn't before, cupping her cheek in his hand and sweeping his thumb over her skin. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she says, shaking her head again. Her eyes drift closed for a moment and she takes a deep, steadying breath before looking back up at him and flashing him a smile. "It's nothing."

He looks at her for a moment, trying to decide if he wants to know what really just happened, and then lowers his hand, stepping around her to retrieve a clean knife from the drawer.

She starts to take it from him and he holds it out of her reach.

"You just sit, I'll finish," he says, raising an eyebrow at her.

She opens her mouth to protest and he holds up a hand, shaking his head.

"You'll get your cut dirty, and then it'll get infected, and then they'll have to take your finger, and it will be a very sad state of affairs indeed."

April rolls her eyes and settles back onto her stool, giggling when Nathan pushes her to the side, stool and all, so he can take her place in front of the potatoes.

A short while later they're in the dining room, eating dinner and talking about work and it's like the moment in the kitchen never happened.

She helps him clear the table when they finish eating and he pulls her away from the sink when she tries to start the dishes.

"Dishes do not always have to be washed immediately following dinner," he says as he steers her into the living room. "In fact," he continues, releasing her arms and raising his eyebrows when she turns to face him, "sometimes they can even be left for the next day."

April rolls her eyes, her mouth curling into a bemused smile as she sinks down onto the couch. Nathan grins and tells her he'll be right back.

When he returns from the bathroom, she's standing in front of the piano, running the tips of her fingers over the smooth black and white keys.

She looks up when she senses his presence and smiles.

"You know, I've been coming here for a year, and I always see this piano, but I don't know if you can actually play, or if it's just here for decoration."

"Do you think I can play?" Nathan asks, the corner of his mouth lifting as he steps towards her.

She considers him for a moment.

"It wouldn't surprise me if you could," she finally replies. "You're not like most of the men I've known."

He snorts laughter, shaking his head as he slips his hands into his pockets. "You can't have known many men if you think I'm something special."

"More than you think," she murmurs, and then looks up at him, tilting her head slightly. "You're better than most."

He looks at her for a moment, watching the way her blonde hair swings over her shoulder as she turns her attention back to the piano, her fingers once again rising to touch the keys.

He takes a breath and moves closer to her. "As it happens, I can play."

April smiles as she looks up. "Yeah?"

He nods and she steps to the side as he pulls the bench out to sit down. He pauses, his fingers over the keys, trying to decide what he wants to play for her. His hands decide for him, falling into well-remembered positions, and he loses himself in the music as he plays, only dimly aware of April's presence beside him.

When he finishes he stares at the gleaming wood of the piano for a moment and then glances up when April shifts. He slides over on the bench to allow her to sit beside him and when he looks at her, she's smiling.

"That was beautiful," she murmurs.

"It was one of Em's favorites," he replies, the corner of his mouth curving slightly upward as he glances down at his hands.

April's quiet for a moment and then she gently nudges Nathan's arm.

"Teach me something," she says, and he feels a surge of affection when he looks up at her again and sees her soft smile.

"Do you know anything?"

"Just the one that everybody knows," she says, raising her hands.

He grabs her hands, biting back a groan. "'Chopsticks' is forbidden in this house, so don't even think about it."

April giggles and Nathan grins as he releases her hands.

"Try this," he says, showing her a chord progression.

Her fingers slip when she tries to play the sixth and he laughs softly.

"Shut up," she says, elbowing him. "My hands aren't as big as yours."

"Try it again."

She does, and her fingers slip again. Frustration creases her brow and he smiles slightly.

"Here," he says, shifting closer to her and slipping his arm around her to place his hand on top of hers. He stretches her fingers to touch the two notes and gently presses down. The chord rings out and a smile flickers over her face.

"Now you try it on your own," he murmurs, removing his hand from hers but keeping his arm around her, resting his fingers on the edge of the piano.

She presses down again and her smile widens as the chord rings out once more.

"There you go," Nathan says, grinning as he pulls his arm from around her and moves slightly away, putting a bit of space between them.

She grins up at him. "You're a good teacher."

"You're a good student."

Her grin widens and she opens her mouth to speak when there's a sudden flash of lightning, followed immediately by a sharp crack of thunder.

They both jump, April's mouth falling open in a soft gasp, and their eyes turn towards the window.

Nathan stands and steps over to the window, followed a moment later by April. The rain is torrential, pounding so loud that it's a wonder they didn't hear it sooner. There's another flash of lightning and Nathan narrows his eyes against the brilliant light, feeling the resulting roll of thunder deep in his bones. April shrinks back from the window, her arms wrapped around her body, and Nathan glances at her.

"I should probably go home," she murmurs.

Nathan shakes his head. "No, I'm not letting you go out in that."

"It's just a thunderstorm, Nathan," she says, though she doesn't look as sure as she's trying to sound.

"Yeah, and if something happened to you on the way home, I would never forgive myself." His voice is sharper than he intends and he realizes just how much truth lies in his words. If something were to ever happen to her -

He shakes his head, not wanting to even entertain the thought, and his expression softens as he looks at her.

"Why don't you just stay here tonight?" he says. "God knows when this is going to end; it looks like the bloody apocalypse out there."

April laughs softly and glances at the window when another flash of lightning illuminates the world.

"You're not wrong," she murmurs, her arms tightening around her.

"I can make up one of the guest beds -" he starts, but she shakes her head.

"You don't have to go to that much trouble; I can just sleep on the couch."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. It's just one night," she says, smiling slightly.

"All right," Nathan says, hands on his hips as he looks at the couch. "Let me at least get you a sheet."

He disappears down the hall and April smiles as she watches him go. He returns a moment later, a pillow tucked under his arm as he unfolds a deep green sheet. He sets the pillow on a chair near the couch and spreads the sheet over the cushions, tucking it tightly in an effort to keep it from slipping too much on the leather.

He tugs the blanket off the back of the couch and spreads it on top of the sheet before stepping back and grabbing the pillow from the chair, dropping it against the arm rest.

"Hope it's comfortable enough," he says, tugging lightly on his earlobe and frowning slightly.

She laughs softly. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

"All right. If you get cold or want another pillow or something, the linen closet's the very first door you come to down the hall."

April nods, smiling. "Thanks, Nathan."

He returns her smile and gives her a nod before leaving the room to check the doors and turn off the lights.

When he passes back through on his way to the stairs, he sees April curled on her side, a book in her hands. He looks at her for moment, unable to resist smiling, and she glances at him when she notices he hasn't moved.

Her lips curve slightly upward and Nathan ducks his head, his smile widening.

"Good night, April," he says softly as he glances back up at her.

"Good night, Nathan," she replies.

He turns and starts up the stairs to his bedroom, glancing back at her once more before she disappears from sight.

He wakes up a few hours later needing to go to the bathroom and he pads softly inside, scowling when he flips the switch and realizes the power's gone out.

He leaves the door open, hoping the intermittent flashes of lightning will keep him from falling headfirst into the bathtub, and it's as he's washing his hands that he remembers April is asleep downstairs.

He moves back to the bed to pull the flashlight from his bedside table and leaves the room, using the flashlight to illuminate the first few steps on the stairs before he starts down.

He smiles when he sees April, sleeping soundly. He watches the steady rise and fall of her body and as he steps closer, he can just hear her light, even breathing.

The blanket's half on the floor and her legs are pulled in tight to her body, her exposed feet pressed together. He shakes his head slightly as he bends to pick up the blanket, spreading it over her and making sure her feet are well covered before glancing at the floor.

Her book is on the rug and he sees now that one hand is hanging over the edge of the cushion, and his smile widens when he realizes she fell asleep reading.

He kneels down and picks up her book, setting it on the coffee table before turning his gaze to her face. He watches her sleep for a minute before reaching forward and lifting a lock of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

His mind drifts unexpectedly to Simon and he finds himself wondering if his son would like April, wondering what he would think of her if they were to meet. He thinks he would like her, and he grins as he pushes to his feet.

He looks down at April for a moment and then bends again, laying his hand lightly on her arm as he touches a soft kiss to her temple.

He straightens and checks the blanket, making sure it's secure around her before he turns and starts up the stairs to go back to bed.

Nathan's in the kitchen the next morning, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, turning over sausages in a pan on the stove. He decides they're done and lifts the pan from the burner, tipping the sausages onto a plate before turning towards the island.

He startles when he sees April standing in the doorway, and then smiles brightly.

"Morning," he says, setting the plate of sausages down.

"Morning," she replies, smiling bemusedly as she looks at the veritable buffet set out on the island. "What's all this?" she asks.

"Well," Nathan says, raising his eyebrows, "I wasn't sure what you liked, so I just - I thought I'd make some of everything."

April bites her lip and it looks like she's trying very hard not to laugh.

"It all looks really good," she says, grinning as she settles onto a stool in front of one of the two bare places at the island.

Nathan smiles as he hands her a plate and he watches her load it up, pleased when she takes a little of everything.

"Coffee or juice?" he asks.

"Coffee would be great," she replies as she reaches for the syrup.

He nods and turns away, pulling two mugs from the cabinet and filling them both with coffee. He hands one to her, followed by the bowl of sugar and container of cream, and then seats himself in front of the other bare place to fix his own breakfast.

He knows there isn't really any way the two of them can finish all of this food but when he came downstairs earlier and saw her still asleep, her back to the stairs and hair spilling over the pillow, glowing brightly in the morning sunlight, he'd felt that irresistible urge again, that need to make sure she was healthy and happy and safe. He'd wanted to make sure she ate breakfast, and had admittedly gone a little overboard, but as she smiles and tells him how good everything is, he decides it was worth it.

She agrees to take some with her when she's getting ready to leave, smiling as she says she'll be having breakfast again for dinner, and Nathan laughs.

As he's fixing the container of food for her, a thought floats across his mind that if Simon were here, there wouldn't be any leftovers to worry about, and he grins, wondering again what April and Simon might think of each other.

He walks April to the door and watches as she puts her shoes and jacket on, slipping her purse onto her shoulder.

Nathan slides an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him for a quick hug, and then hands her the container of leftovers as she opens the door.

"Thanks, Nathan," she says, smiling softly at him. "I'll see you on Monday."

He smiles and nods, gesturing to one of the agents standing outside his door to walk with April to her car. He waits until the agent returns, wanting to be sure that April made it safely, before he closes the door.

He heads into the living room to straighten up the couch, laying the blanket over the back before tugging the sheet from around the cushions, dropping it on the floor as he reaches for the pillow. He smiles vaguely as he plucks a couple of stray blonde hairs from the pillowcase and then tucks it under his arm as he bends to pick up the sheet.

He turns and starts for the laundry room when he looks down at the coffee table and notices that April forgot her book. He sets the sheet and pillow down on the couch and reaches for the book, smiling when he notices how worn it is.

He carries it over to the table beside the front door, setting it under his keys so that he won't forget to bring it to her on Monday, and then goes back to retrieve the sheet and pillow.

As he carries them down the hall he contemplates calling Simon, grinning as he wonders when his son will come to visit next.