nishka//loki (![]() ![]() @ 2017-11-20 16:01:00 |
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Entry tags: | loki, sigyn |
If I had a heart I could love you, If I had a voice I would sing
Who: Nish and James
What: Nish makes good on her promise to cook for James, and the two curl up together to watch Vikings
Where: Nish’s apartment
When: Wednesday, November 15, 2017, about 7pm
As soon as James let her know about an evening he’d be free to come for dinner Nish started planning. Choosing a recipe, making lists of what she’d need, when she’d do everything, reading and rereading the steps involved in making it. She wanted it to be perfect, to make a good impression with her new (albeit limited) skills.
She left work a little bit early to make sure she’d have time to get everything ready, stopping at the store for a few last-minute things. She felt a little strange making something for him that Jen had taught her to cook, but it was on the relatively easy side of things, so she was less nervous of screwing it up.
By seven o’clock, about when he said he’d come over, the sauce was bubbling away happily on the stove, and the water for the pasta was starting to boil. Her apartment smelled like an Italian restaurant, and she was setting the table (with candles and everything) when she heard a knock. She smiled and headed to the door, wiping her hands on a towel and opening it. “Hey,” she greeted happily, stepping aside to let him in.
Now wasn’t all this quite the surprise? Hearing Nishka say she wanted to cook for him, and James subsequently choosing a night he finished his shift at a decent hour (though he’d started at an ungodly hour, mind you, going from six to six) had him intrigued. But he went along with it, and he had to admit that by the time he arrived at her place (changed into dark jeans and a clean, button-down shirt after a quick shower to get the sterile, medicated hospital stench off of him) he was ravenously hungry - lunch, a cigarette, and a brief snooze in the physician’s lounge seemed like eons ago.
“Hello, love,” he smiled, entering the flat and taking a good whiff - now that was a nice aroma, oregano and garlic and perhaps a little olive oil. “Smells good in here. What are you making? Oh, and - “ With a flourish, he brought his arm from where he’d been hiding it behind his back, holding a bouquet of flowers. Daffodils and daisies, and really, was there anything more cheerful than a vase full of daisies? Not much, anyway.
Nish was pleasantly startled by the flowers, laughing and taking them from him. “Thank you, they're beautiful,” she said, (maybe blushing a little?) leaning in for a quick kiss and then leading him into her apartment.
She went back into the kitchen then, rummaging around in her cupboards for something suitable to put flowers in. She didn’t actually own a vase. “So I told you, I only know how to make a few things,” she explained, pulling a large pint mug from a top shelf that could work. She looked over her shoulder at him and grinned. “I hope you're up for spaghetti and meatballs,” she chuckled. “It was that or my mom’s salmon, but I think I already made that for you once?” she wondered aloud. Or did she make that for Rafe? Shit.
She filled the mug with water and set the flowers in it, smiling happily at them and carrying them out to place them on the nicely set dining table. “How was work?” she asked when she headed back towards him, reaching out to lightly touch his arm with the back of her hand.
Spaghetti and meatballs would explain the sizzling sounds he heard, the delectable scent of cow added to the spices. James was no vegetarian, so this was more than fine - he also couldn’t quite recall if Nishka ever made salmon for him but it didn’t really matter. Especially because he was hungry right now, in this moment, and looked forward to a supper he didn’t have to cook on his own.
“You might have, love, but just to be safe maybe make it for me again someday,” he winked - in return, he’d make her something from his youth as well. He knew a lot of delicious Irish recipes, traditional ones - fried cabbage and sausage, bangers and mash, shepherd’s pie. The desserts too.
She grinned at him and winked back, “deal.”
He leaned against the counter, but didn’t want to get in her way so he attempted to position himself to where he wouldn’t be too much of a nuisance. “Work was good, it went quickly and I’m getting more used to the caseload now,” he said. “Can I help with anything, by the way?”
She looked over at the sauce merrily bubbling on the stove and the boiling water. “Uhhm, you can put the pasta in the water?” she said with a shrug, shifting to stir the sauce to make sure it wasn't burning to the bottom. Caught it just in time. “That's good...really good. And you're not looking as tired as you were,” she added, smiling over at him.
“I doubt I’d win any beauty contests, but thanks,” James chuckled good-naturedly. He just needed to get back into the grind and get used to the hours and the heaviness of the work. He saw a whole myriad of patients, and their reasons for what brought them to the hospital differed quite a bit too - it could range from the young girl who was running away from her parents, to the middle-aged woman who cut her wrists because she wanted to feel better, or the older man who’d given up on life.
Stressful and oftentimes depressing, yes, but rewarding when he helped others.
Pasta into the water it was. He broke the block of spaghetti in half so it’d fit nicely (and salted the water too, after testing it - you wanted it to be an ocean, basically, for boiling pasta) and added it. “Kind of wondering what will come next in terms of this building, but...” Surely it would be something. He’d considered moving even just up the block or something, sure, but he was here now. He knew about Sigyn and running away would seem cowardly, so he’d simply give Dracula in the tower both middle fingers and carry on.
Nish’s smile faltered just a little at that. “Do you regret moving here?” she asked carefully, looking down at the sauce for a moment longer before looking up at him to watch his expression. “I mean...you just got here, and…” I got drunk and practically yelled at you, we’re harbouring Norse gods inside of us, ohh, and we could have died trying to escape the Halloween party.’ But she didn’t say any of those things, instead vaguely gesturing around them to silently refer to all that’s happened. She sighed and frowned a little.
“That’s never happened before. That guy...I’ve never seen him before. And we’ve never been...outright attacked...” She was worried. Things had escalated, and they were messing with what she wanted to build now with James.
’You know I’ll protect you, right? I’ll protect you both,’ Loki said.
’How can you guarantee that? I’m still healing from what that thing did to me…’
’I’m sorry about that,’ he said, actually sounding remorseful. ’I wish I could have done more, but you were so drunk…’
’Don’t you dare blame me for this.’
’I don’t, I blame them.’
She grimaced. “Loki’s...pissed about what happened,” she shared, “he wanted to protect you, us, but…” she shrugged, leaving the rest unsaid.
James lifted an eyebrow, watching as Nishka seemed to have a conversation with the god inside her head. He was, however, a little wary of Loki claiming to want to protect his host and also the host of his wife - perhaps the second point would make more sense, but all James could envision was Loki pushing Nishka toward the bottle again.
You have to try to be a little more fair than that, he heard the gentle feminine voice scold him - Sigyn wasn’t very loud, more like a whisper in the back of his mind. The way a conscience would sound (bollocks, Freud would have a field day with this shite). I would tell you if Loki was lying. He’s not now.
“Alright,” James said out loud, rubbing his forehead. “I’ll believe him, then. I know Sigyn wants to protect the both of us too. But no, I don’t regret moving here,” he shrugged. It was meant to be, perhaps? If someone was inclined to give leeway to ideas of Fate. “Maybe it’ll be difficult but we can handle things. At the very least, it makes for an extraordinary life.”
“That's one way to put it,” she chuckled, sidestepping what sounded like him speaking to Sigyn out loud, and instead reaching to turn the heat off the sauce and then up into the cupboard for two plates. “I've been living with this for longer than you have; I guess I was just worried that what happened might have...pushed you too far,” she shrugged. After a pause, she looked up at him with a forced smile.
“I’ve a very high threshold, love, you know that,” James reminded her, and her smile softened in answer. It was true - perhaps that was something he and Sigyn had in common, their ability to persevere and carry on even when obstacles were thrown in their path. Plus, after years and years of dealing with Loki’s shit? Some of that patience rubbed off on James; it bled through.
“Anyway, we should be talking about happier things, right?” she suggested, remembering what her therapist had told her, to keep their time together as stress-free as possible. She glanced over his shoulder, “how's the pasta doing?”
He’d take Nishka’s hint and not talk about the perils of their building, then. Probably for the best since it wasn’t like there was anything either of them could really do about it. At least not right now. “Looks good, right at about al dente or whatever the official term is?” he grinned. “I’m bloody famished too, I could eat a horse.” Extra servings for this growing boy, please.
“How about a cow?” she asked with a grin, pulling a colander (purchased this afternoon) out of a cupboard and placing it in the sink. “Well hopefully it’s edible, I have made it once before, but with a lot of help, and it turned out good,” she said, picking up the pot of pasta and pouring it into the strainer, then balancing the strainer over the empty pot to catch the remaining drips.
“I read that Italians hate it when people put oil in the pasta water, or on it after it’s cooked,” she said, serving two large portions onto the waiting plates, “apparently it’s a huge ‘no no’; it keeps the sauce from sticking.” As she said it, she began scooping sauce over the nest of spaghetti, giving them each a good helping of meatballs. “I’m starving too,” she said with a grin. She was definitely not one of those basic girls who ate like a bird around their boyfriends. If she was hungry, he knew it.
She handed him a plate and then led him into the dining room, where a nicely set table was waiting for them, complete with lit candles, the flowers he’d brought, a pepper grinder and a bottle of parmesan. And wine glasses. “You’d better not be expecting this every day,” she chuckled, “this took me far too long to put together. Ohh, wait,” she exclaimed, jumping up, “almost forgot…” she headed into the kitchen. She pulled a bottle from the fridge and cracked it open on the way back, smirking, and poured some into James's glass. Then she showed him the label: sparkling grape juice. “Seemed appropriate,” she grinned, then settled down across from him, pouring herself a glass too.
“Candles and everything, how romantic,” James sounded amused (and delighted) as he took a seat at the table. “Sparkling grape juice too. Everything looks delicious. I’ll be certain to return the favour for you soon, love.”
They both worked long days so some pampering on occasion was always appreciated. Plus, it was just nice to have a quiet dinner together as well - with nothing bonkershits erupting to ruin the serenity. Maybe he shouldn’t jinx it though.
He tucked right in, spaghetti twirling around his fork and when he took a bite, it was obvious he approved of the recipe. “I won’t ask you to Lady and the Tramp a noodle with me,” he teased. “But after this we can just watch something ridiculous on television and become vegetables on the sofa?”
Nish giggled around a bite of spaghetti, covering her mouth with her hand and then swallowing. “Ohh come on, you don't go for that cheesy romantic shit?” she laughed.
“That sounds perfect,” she said with a warm smile. “Cuddling on the couch is just what we need right now,” she said, reaching for his hand and giving it a squeeze. Then she drew back and picked up the parmesan, shaking it liberally over her plate. “Actually, there's a show I was wanting to watch for a while now, but never got to,” she said with a little mischievous grin. “What do you know about Vikings? It’s on the ‘History Channel’” she added, with air quotes to show how dubious the ‘history’ part of that was. However, she loved the idea of watching fiction about the people who used to believe in the gods inside them.
’Ohh, please no…’
“Loki hates the idea, so I want to watch it,” she smirked, taking another bite of dinner.
“Vikings?” James wasn’t exactly up on the times when it came to television - he still needed to finish season one of Stranger Things, whereas the rest of the world had already binged the second season. Sigh. But it was just that he worked so much, by the time he got home he was ready to put on something mindless and he didn’t give two shits what it was - rare did he make a point to watch something regularly and it had been this way for awhile.
He fished around in the recesses of his mind, poking Sigyn, to see if she knew what the fuck that even was. “Sigyn’s never heard of it, I don’t think,” he chuckled - a good guess, considering he was getting baffled radio silence right now. “But sure, why not. I suppose it’s fitting, innit?” And he tipped the edge of his glass of grape juice in Nish’s direction.
Nish grinned, swallowing her mouthful of meatball. “There's nudity,” she said, as if that was a major selling point. “And violence, and the whole Norse culture thing…”
’That remains to be seen…’ Loki complained, making her grin all the more.
“My secretary is up on all the shows, and she's been bugging me to watch it for a while, now that Game of Thrones is on break.” She spun more spaghetti around her fork, but then paused. “Unless there's something you'd rather watch…” she said, frowning a little. Focus on him, Nish… she could almost hear Sandra’s advice.
“I can’t think of anything else, love, just a couple shows I’ve been meaning to queue up on Netflix,” James said - but he was rather easy about television, and would watch mostly anything provided he didn’t fall asleep five minutes in. “So Vikings it is.”
He sliced into a meatball with his fork, laughing internally at the whole ‘Norse culture’ idea. Sigyn thought it was funny too - he could feel her delight. Likely it would just he Hollywoodised and cringeworthy, but entertaining all the same.
“This is fantastic, by the way.” James nudged Nish under the table. “My compliments to the chef.”
That made her actually blush and duck her head a little. “Thank you,” she said with uncharacteristic shyness. “I actually learned how to make this from Jen, so you have her to thank…” she winced internally at that, bringing up an ex when she was trying to be all romantic.
“I just wanted to do something for you,” she explained, shifting her foot under the table to bump his. “You've been working so hard, and...I realized I wasn't making things easy on you. I know a dinner won't make up for that, but I just want you to know I appreciate you, and the work you do. Hell, I see one of your coworkers on a regular basis,” she said with a little smile. “I just...I get it.”
Yes, making the dinner you romantically cooked with your ex for a current lover, very...sweet. James could sense Sigyn’s amusement; it radiated through the corridors of his mind, almost sounding like a warm chuckle. He cleared his throat, focusing on what Nishka was saying - all about appreciating him and the work he did, wait, what? Really? Well, that was a switch from Halloween night.
Not that he was complaining, mind you. It was nice to hear her say these things now, sober and coherent.
“I appreciate that, darling,” he said sincerely, setting his fork down. “I swear to you I’m not working these long days on purpose - I just need to balance the caseload. It’s something I’ve not had to worry about in awhile, but I’ll get it done. I promise I’ll make a point to spend time with you though.” He didn’t want her feeling neglected, after all. James was doing the best he could - and admittedly, some slack and understanding on her end would also help a lot.
She nodded, seriousness now gracing her features, “I know,” she said softly, still kicking herself for daring to bring up Jen in their conversation, and resolving to not do it again. He forgave her - or rather, claimed there was nothing to forgive - for her relationships while they were apart, but she was sure it would still be a sore spot with him, which made Rafe’s idea of a double date something she was nervous about bringing up with him.
Wiping at the corners of his mouth with his napkin, he was officially stuffed. Shoveling in all those carbs, that’s what he’d done, and there were no regrets at all. “Well, alright then. In return for dinner, I can do the dishes?”
Nish chuckled softly and finished off the last of her juice. “What, while I sit and watch?” she asked, getting up from the table with him. “I’ll dry,” she said, collecting her plate and following him into the kitchen. She rinsed her plate and pulled out a towel, throwing it over one shoulder while he got started in the sink. As his back was turned she pulled a box from the fridge with a cheerful ‘Rosemary & Thyme’ stamp on the lid and set it on the counter. “I got actual desert,” she said with a grin, “red velvet cupcakes. Cream cheese icing. One of our neighbours makes them at her shop,” she explained, stepping forward to take the first of the dishes from him to dry. She paused then, watching him with a warm smile, leaning against the counter.
“I like this,” she said, smiling at him. “Just...being domestic. It’s nice.”
’Ohh, don’t be getting all boring on me now, Nish,’ she heard, and she had to resist the urge to roll her eyes.
’Get back in your corner and let the actual people talk,’ she chided, though part of her was amused.
“Oh, that shoppe, I’ve certainly been there - and I won’t say no to cupcakes.” James was already at work with the dishes, scrubbing them clean and passing them along - the quicker they finished this part, the quicker they could get to dessert (they were called fairy cakes in the UK, which sounded a lot more whimsical).
He rather liked being domestic too though - it was stable, and stability was something he lacked while in Witness Protection. Something he’d craved for the entire time his life was topsy-turvy and he felt like he had no one in the world. Perhaps he could have made it easier on himself by releasing the sexual tension here and there but just hadn’t - he knew it wasn’t the same for Nish though, and he really didn’t blame her. As long as her lovers were good to her, then what did he care? He didn’t have anything against Jen, and he liked Rafe - it was the other fucker James would have gutted with an ice cream scoop, but luckily he was already expired.
Teasingly, he flicked some water at Nish like he was apt to do. “Alright, come on, I’m ready to be old and boring on the sofa.” With cupcakes.
Nish smiled brightly and hung up her towel, flicking on the kettle for tea and pulling two mugs down for them. “I’ve developed a tea cupboard you can be proud of,” she said with a grin, opening the one in question. It was filled with various eclectic types of tea, green, herbal, black, spiced, and a few types of flavoured instant coffee. “This is all I drink now, take your pick,” she said.
While he decided, she brought the cupcakes out into the livingroom and set them on the coffee table, turning on the tv and putting in the first Vikings DVD that Jess had lent her, then headed back into the kitchen to make her own tea. “Now I can finally tell Jess I watched it; she’ll be thrilled,” she chuckled, choosing Earl Grey for herself and pouring the hot water over the tea bag.
The tea was grand but the instant coffee would make James weep - however, he’d sound like an utter snob, wouldn’t he? He chuckled at himself, going for an Irish breakfast tea (sans the whiskey the Irish would actually put in it). “Nothing wrong with tea, love, I’m thrilled you’re a bit more cultured,” he teased, preparing a cup once the hot water was added - he just put in some honey and that was all.
Now, for the good stuff. Settling on the sofa, he waited until Bear came out of hiding to jump up on his lap and rub all over him (in a clear ‘eff you to Cheeto, whom Bear may be in a territory war with) before James began peeling the wrapper from the cupcake. He had a purring kitty motorboat on him too, that was fine.
“I should be able to make it through a couple of episodes before passing out.” He’d see how it went but he was relaxed and drowsy, so no promises.
Nish smiled, “good, ‘cause Jess told me it takes the first three to get really hooked,” she said, quickly reading over the back of the DVD case. She shrugged and tossed it onto the coffee table next to her cooling tea and pressed play on the remote, then pulled the throw blanket down from the back of the couch and promptly curled up next to him, wrapping the blanket around both of them and leaning her head comfortably on his shoulder.
On screen the show opened with two brothers finishing up on a bloody battlefield, and already Loki’s interest was piqued. She watched with rapt attention as the scene played out, one of the characters spotting an old man in a cloak and hat, with ravens circling the dead, choosing some of the fallen for himself. “Odin,” she recognized aloud, at the same moment the man on screen did, and then she glanced up at James.
’Not bad, but he looked nothing like that,’ said the backseat watcher. She smirked and lay back down, wrapping an arm around James’ waist and quietly letting the rest of the episode play out.