A Thousand Oceans - Ch. 4
Fandom: Nikki & Nora
Pairing: Nikki/Nora
Rating: PG-13 to R (depends on the chapter)
Title: A Thousand Oceans - Ch.4 - Make the Same Mistakes
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.
Oh and before I forget, music is awesome, in fact it’s preferred over television, so…the story title is from Tori Amos (all bow to Tori “Goddess of the Ivory Keys” Amos) and Part I of this mess is from David Cook (yes, the American Idol winner - it’s actually not a bad album, a little over produced, but that’s common nowadays) off the self-titled album. The lyrics nor title belong to me…and I’m glad they don’t…I can’t sing to save my life.
A/N: I got nuffin’. *waves* Enjoy!
Swept up in this emotion,
We fumble through and make the same mistakes
The door to my room is open. Done so purposefully. But as Nora stands in the doorway, I’m not sure it was such a good idea. I take her in. Noticing small changes. She looks tired. Wrung out.
I’m sure I don’t look any better from my seat at the foot of my childhood bed. Truthfully, I’m exhausted. I’m hurt and confused and more than anything…I just want to wrap myself up in Nora Delaney and spend the rest of my life in her arms.
I bite back the urge. That’s not what either of us needs right now.
“Hi,” she says meekly, propped against the door frame.
“Hi back,” I say motioning her to come inside. “I…”
“I…”
We start at the same time. She blushes and I smile.
“I tried calling your cell,” she rushes out, “You didn’t answer. I called the apartment. You didn’t answer. Darius wouldn’t tell me anything. I resorted to enlisting your father for help.” She shuffles further inside and finishes, “but you’re here.”
“I am.” I’ve been thinking nonstop of what I want to say to her and now that I have her in front of me I don’t have a clue what to say.
I do acknowledge that this is the first time she’s been in my room here. I see her look around. This room is stuck in a time warp that much I’m aware of. It’s stuck in the form of a girl from John Marshall High’s graduating class of 1989. A school pennant, pom-poms, a few trophies and Polaroid’s decorate my room. That and the magnificently large poster of Debbie Gibson circa her release of Electric Youth.
The poster does not go unnoticed by Nora and she smirks at me looking it over then looking pointedly at me. Admittedly, I didn’t know it at the time, but upon reflection, as I came out, I realized a few things about the younger me.
The first and foremost being that while all the signs were pointing to my gayness, such as my deep love of Madonna, Michael Jackson, Boy George and Debbie Gibson, her in particular for some reason. The second being my near consistent “hero worship” of actresses. I mooned over Meg Ryan, Susan Sarandon and Michelle Pfeiffer. Later on in life I found out it wasn’t because I admired their talent. Erica took particular glee in pointing out the signs of my budding sexuality.
I want to bury my face in my pillows and wake up in Nora's arms.
I huff and she looks at me, a question on the tip of her tongue. I shrug. It’s nearly all I’m capable right now.
“Debbie Gibson?” she asks instead.
I can’t help the smile. I would scowl and pout if her look of incredulity wasn’t so damn adorable.
“I didn’t think you’d stoop so low as Eighties Pop, Nikki.” Nora leans against the vanity table.
“It was catchy and she was cute. Can’t blame a girl,” I tease right back. Lyrics come unbidden in my mind and I sing a bit of one of her songs, “When I was sorry, it was too late to turn around and tell you so. There was no reason. There was no reason. Just the foolish beat of my heart.”
The last words die on my lips as the melody slips away, realizing too late the song choice was a tad too telling of my current, of our current situation.
She breaks eye contact and goes back to staring at the thick cream colored carpeting.
“Nikki, what’s going on?” she whispers. I nearly miss the question, it's asked so softly.
“Nora, I…” I squeeze my eyes shut, pushing the tears back. I struggle with what I have to tell her. “We need time. We need time apart to really see if this is what we want.”
Her eyes open and snap to me. “I know what I want Nikki. I’m standing in her room. I know exactly where I want to be. What I can’t figure out is why you aren’t with me.”
I run a hand through my hair and begin studying my bed spread. The blasted thing ain’t changed in nearly two decades. I know the pattern just as well as the back of my hand. “I need a break. These past two weeks Nora. I need to see if…”
“See what? Wasn’t it you that wants to get a place together? Wasn’t it you that was settin’ on tellin’ your daddy about us over dinner, trying to make your intentions for us perfectly clear? Tell me Nikki what in the hell happened that was so drastic that you’ve set a flame to the dream you and I were building together?” Nora snaps. Maybe she has every right to.
I just don’t know anymore.
“That’s just it,” I say as evenly as possible. I unfortunately can’t manage a voice above a whisper as I say, “they’re just dreams Nora. That’s all they were. What I want for us, I’m not sure we can ever have. Between the complications work brings into this…added to the fact that you…”
“Me? That I what?”
My patience starts to wane and I stand up, folding my arms across my chest. “Every decision that you’ve made has been you choosing something other than me.” I finally say. “I’m not looking for you to march in NOLA’s Pride parade Nora. I just want a little recognition for the place I hold in your life. You can’t do that though. Every chance you’ve had you’ve chosen something or someone that isn’t me. Isn’t us.”
I shake my head at her attempt at interrupting me. “No, you asked darlin’, well I’m answering. I need to figure out if that’s something that I can live with. I need to figure out if what I want for us isn’t just some half cooked up fantasy because I love you so damn much I’m willing to sacrifice my self worth for us to be together.” The tears start all on their own, somewhere between the beginning and middle of my tirade, but I press on, “I need to figure out if I can stand the thought of losing you before we go any further. I can’t bury another lover.”
Her jaw clenches and quivers as the usually kind green eyes I’ve come to adore stare back at me, guarded and angry.
“I just need some time to figure all of that out Nora. Please,” I whimper.
She shakes her head. “Ain’t it a little too late to be wondering about shit like this when we’re all ready in too deep? Why didn’t you say this before I fell in love with you…?”
Nora doesn’t wait on a reply to her questions, but instead takes off out the door.
I hear her bound down the steps, slam the front door closed and the way she guns June Lee, peeling away from my childhood home, away from me. Again.
I fall back onto my bed and pull a pillow over my mouth to cover the sobs.