RP Log: Nico, Charity, and Emily Characters: Nico Summerby, Emily Simon, Charity Summerby, and Jackson The Dog Setting: Nico's flat and then Charity's, Saturday evening Summary: For the second time, Nico's girlfriend meets his sister. No blood is drawn. Rating: G
"Well, Charity'll be expecting us," Nico turned on the step before his front door to tell Emily. Leaning back into the door itself, he let it swing open at a controlled speed with the push of his weight countered by his clutch on the handle pulling in the other direction. It was that much easier to talk to someone you were facing, he'd found, and the doorway was sturdy enough. "But I figured that because she lives right over --" He nodded at the building across the street. "There. No joke. Gives us a bit of time to kill."
The sound of paws slowly, but steadily approaching on the wooden flooring broke the short silence as Nico looked inside for the source of the scratching and padding, he was already grinning before the sight of a Border Collie appeared from around the corner. "Which works for us because I wanted to introduce you to someone," he continued as he beckoned to Emily to follow inside.
Maybe the doc's (vet's, actually) orders were to mind that Jackson was kept away from any excitement while the natural healing process worked its magic on the dog's reconstructed hips, but one visitor seemed all right. Nico jogged ahead to meet the approaching tail-wagger, stopping the dog from hobbling eagerly forward by stooping down in front of him -- another order, that. Maybe the medication was helping with the post-surgery pains, but that wasn't a free license for Jackson to be up and around, no matter how the dog seemed think it was or how strong a natural sense of curiosity had him wanting to bound up to everything to sniff it, lick it, or both.
A hand plonked atop Jackon's head and ruffling the fur between the dog's ears as Nico spun around to see if Emily was coming. "Emily, I want you to meet Jackson."
"Awwwwwww!" she cried, in the universal response of people to adorable fluffy animals. She was already on her way over, kneeling and then sitting on the floor in front of the dog as quickly as possible. Without any conscious effort on her part, Emily's voice changed over promptly to "sweet widdle doggy" mode. "Hello, Jackson! Oh, aren't you just the cutest?" she cooed, reaching out to scratch behind Jackson's ears and totally forgetting about her boyfriend. Nico was cute, sure, but this was a wobbly injured dog who was looking adoringly at her with his big doggy eyes. "You are just the sweetest thing in the world. I hope life after surgery is going well for you, baby - recovery is no fun at all, is it?"
Emily had surgery to repair an ACL tear years ago, so she had some empathy for Jackson. It was tough, having to sit still and be good all the time. She felt all warm and gooey at the fact that he was given a chance and adopted, too, since so many people weren't willing to do that sort of ting for their animals. Her boyfriend was truly a kind and wonderful person - just not as adorable as his dog at the moment.
Nico had settled on his knees -- completely ignoring his mother's voice that usually chimed in with how that was awful on the joints, as he did -- and took a moment to watch Emily fawn over Jackson. Meanwhile, Jackson was soaking up the attention, nudging his nose into the underside of Emily's hand repeatedly as if he wasn't sure if he wanted to sniff her or lick her or let her keep on petting him.
There wasn't any offense taken; maybe his dog was stealing the affections of his girlfriend, but given that Jackson definitely had a talent for sucking people right in with his friendly personality and tear-jerker of a story, Nico couldn't fault anyone for falling victim. Nico had been in that same place, after all. All the other dogs in the shelter never stood a chance once he and Charity had sighted the Border Collie across the room.
"With all the attention he's been getting lately?" Nico asked, smiling at Emily and patting the dog's neck. "I think he's doing quite all right for himself."
"He's just so cute," Emily declared, continuing to pet her new friend. "Look at that face! I never could have walked past him in the shelter, either." She leaned forward and kissed him right on the top of the head before looking up at Nico with a grin. "I'm seriously contemplating kidnapping, just so you know." Not really, of course, but Jackson really was an incredibly sweet dog. She couldn't imagine how anyone could give him up and leave him at the shelter. But then, Emily was the kind of person who'd sell her car to pay for her dog's surgery and take the bus to work for a year.
"How long do they think before he's walking normally?" she asked. The poor fluffy dear did look as if he was still having trouble - which made sense, given that it hadn't been too long since they'd put his hips back together.
"That so? I'll just have to keep... keeping my eyes on you, then, Simon," Nico returned, narrowing his eyes in a jesting sort of suspicion. Even despite having been moved out from his original home and left in a shelter, going under the knife, and being put into an entirely new household within a relatively short amount of time, Jackson's spirits never seemed to have dimmed save for the small bit that was owed to being medicated, if that even counted. But, credit to Jackson, that sort of ability to adjust and keep happy put him in a good place for recovery. Maybe he'd never be one-hundred percent, but against what would've been if no one picked him up, if he hadn't dragged Charity with him that day to the shelter -- well, it wasn't worth going into that. The note attached to Jackson's holding cage didn't sound all that promising.
"He'll have his check-ups to see how things are healing up," Nico answered with a shrug. "I'm told he might always bit a bit off-kilter, but soon enough he'll be all right to get out in the world and... you know, mark his territory. Chase small rodents. At least that's the general idea."
Emily chuckled, fluffing the fur at the back of Jackson's neck. "You'll show those rodents who's boss, won't you?" she said, once again addressing the dog. "They've been having the run of the park for far too long."
She kept petting Jackson as she looked up to talk to Nico. "That's good, then. Just from the looks of him, he's definitely meant to be an energetic little fella. I bet he'll be outrunning you once he's back on his feet."
Nico laughed in return, shaking his head. "Outrunning me? Not exactly that hard to do, Em," he replied as he pushed himself up to his feet. Soon enough Jackson would be needing to get some rest; he was still in the early stages of recooperation. On the same note, they'd have to shove off for Charity's, and even the few stairs and the short walk across the street would be too much to take Jackson along to rest at her place.
"But once he's well enough, he might like those morning jogs Charity dragged me into. Actually, I bet he'll make quick mates with Manny once he's able to --" Nico paused. "Oh, that's right. You don't know Manny. My sis's dalmatian. You'll get to meet him in a bit."
"Dalmatians and border collies..." Emily shook her head and laughed. "Your family apparently has some kind of fixation on high-energy black and white dogs."
Since Nico was standing, Emily figured that meant it was time to go, or would be soon. She gave Jackson a little snuggle before she got up, hoping that perhaps some of the brave little collie's ability to face down life-threatening illness and surgery would rub off on her. If he could do that, surely she could face Nico's sister.
Charity was just so terrifyingly beautiful and perfect. Emily had only met her once, but once had been more than enough to leave her rattled. She'd spent the entire five minutes quaking, and for this dinner with her Emily had taken well over an hour trying to make herself presentable. She'd changed clothes four times, finally putting on a claret-colored dress that she at least didn't think could be objectionable and that she usually felt pretty in. It was difficult for anyone to feel pretty around Charity, though, and the more Emily thought about it the more anxious she became. She required a deep breath as she got to her feet, hoping that Charity would maybe hate her just slightly less this time (because regardless of what Nico said, Emily was fairly certain his sister hated her.)
"Yeah, maybe," Nico semi-agreed, reaching down to give Jackson another scruff as the dog pulled himself up off his haunches. "But Charity's all on her own with shoes. She has this whole closet just for shoes -- I walked in there once and almost got lost in the boxes." A small exaggeration, but Charity did boast an overwhelming collection.
"And she gets on my case about action figures." He rolled his eyes for the full effect, before nodding toward the front door. "Ready? And relax, huh?" Nico reached over, hooking Emily around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her cheek as it seemed like a pretty good idea as far as comforting went. "I know last time didn't go so well, but that only means this time can only be better."
"It would almost have to," Emily sighed. The kiss helped, but she was still fighting valiantly to stave off panic. "The only way it could possibly be worse is if I walk in and she announces that she finds my lack of faith disturbing." The fact that Nico's sister might be a Sith seemed perfectly likely to Emily. If only Vader had known that replacing the armor and boots with a little black dress and four-inch heels would be infinitely more terrifying.
Emily took a deep breath, ostensibly in the interest of relaxing, and found it entirely ineffective. She pulled back from Nico, stepping to where he'd have a good look at her from top to bottom. "Are you sure I look all right?" she asked. He'd said she looked nice when she'd first walked up, and the slightly extra time he'd taken looking at her legs in the heels made her think he'd meant it, but she had sat down on the floor since then, and she might have gotten dog hair on her...
Charity probably never had dog hair on her. Dog hair was probably too scared to stick to Charity's clothes, which were all probably afraid to wrinkle. How someone as sweet and laid-back as Nico managed to have such a frighteningly picture-perfect sister as Charity completely escaped her.
And he had given Emily that compliment earlier without any dishonesty. She looked beautiful then, and nothing had changed that he could tell. Still, if she needed to hear it again to coax down her nerves, then he was only glad to. "You look more than all right, Emily," he assured her, retaining a warm smile.
"Look. Even Jackson's drooling," he added, pointing to the collie, whose tongue was hanging out. Feeling that he'd have to be the one to start them walking, Nico crooked his elbow and held it out. Corny as it was, maybe Emily could appreciate a bit of the humour instead of focusing so much on fretting. "Shall we?"
It was corny, but it made her laugh, and that helped. "Let's go," Emily said, taking his arm. She reminded herself that she hadn't passed out from nerves since sixth grade and that she would surely be fine. She was a grown woman with a good job and a sunny personality, and she did look pretty tonight. If Nico's sister didn't like her, that was her problem! Nico liked her, and he was the only person in this situation who she really needed to like her. Even his dog liked her. If Charity sneered at her again, she would hold her head up and remain secure in the confidence that she was a good and smart and pretty, and gosh darn it people liked her.
...or she might possibly pass out. But she would definitely not cry, Emily thought firmly. Passing out was unlikely, and she could definitely say that she would not cry. Well, at least not where anyone could see her. She was tougher than that. She was okay. She had her arm in Nico's (perhaps gripping just a little more tightly on his elbow than she needed to) and everything would be all right. She kept her head held high as they walked across the street, and by the time they were in front of Charity's door she was even smiling.
Normally Nico would've reached into his pocket and drawn out his copy of the key to Charity's flat, but given the opportunity to knock on her door and make her get up and answer was all too good to pass up. Besides, with Emily clutching his arm just tightly enough to make him realise she was still struggling with the idea of the dinner, he felt he could lend his elbow out a tad longer for her sake. Raising his other hand, he knocked out the usual shave-and-a-haircut (for a dull rap-rap-rap never really cut it in his book).
The final moment of Charity-less time on the stairs was Nico's to search his memories for anything else Emily might like to know. Or, well, that would help to know before that door opened. "Oh, so if anything white and black bolts out the door, that's just Manny," he told Emily. "I wouldn't worry. Odds are he'll pounce me first. If not..." He squinted, looking off to the side thoughtfully. "Ah, wouldn't worry about any of that."
"Manny," Charity's voice sounded from behind the door. It was muffled, sure, but if you listened carefully, you could hear, "Sit. No, sit. I don't want you scaring her with your affections. Your paws are doom."
The door jerked open about one-quarter of the way before it shut soundly when a blur of black and white tried to bolt toward the door. "MANNY! Sorry! He's... Damnit.. Stop it! You're going in the room if you don't -- all right, fine! You're going in the room. I'll be right back! Nic, you can let yourself in if you want. Sorry about this; I don't know what's gotten into him!"
Nico's brow crinkled at the sounds that were coming through the door muffled. He was about ask Charity if she needed a hand, but the answer came before he even could get one syllable out. He could only look at Emily, pulling his shoulders upward. "Or maybe you won't meet Manny just yet. Wonder if he smells Jackson on us," he ventured, leaning in nearer to the wooden paneling and listening for the sounds of four paws and two feet to recede.
When the coast sounded clear, he pushed the door in, going first just in case Manny got lose again. It seemed like the move of a good boyfriend to fend off dog slobber should it be incoming, but a quick survey revealed safe passage, and he turned back to Emily. "Come on in."
Emily came in behind him, looking around at the space that seemed to be currently devoid of its occupant. She was off dalmatian-wrangling, from the sounds of things, which left Emily free to take in the surroundings. Her mind took a naturally analytical bent, and she couldn't help but try to make sense of the space.
It was very, very clean. It was the kind of clean that didn't come just from putting away clutter and vacuuming because company was coming over. No, Emily was pretty certain that if she just popped in on a Monday afternoon, the place would look exactly the same. The space was designed well, decorated with same kind of sleek style that had showed in Charity's clothes the first time they'd met. It was, in short, exactly what she would have expected from Charity Summerby, without any trace of vulnerability to be found. So much for the hope that she might be human.
The door down the corridor shut with a whomp as if something heavy was trying to press against it. Breathless, Charity wandering toward the living room, and in her head, she chanted, Will be charming and friendly. Do not want to scare twin's girlfriend away. But despite all of her mantra-chanting and smiles, Charity was as guarded as always. She'd let Donna get a little too close, and when she burnt Nico, she burnt Charity too.
"Sorry about that. Don't really know what his problem is. Maybe it's too close to the full moon or something." She leaned in, gave Nico a quick kiss on the cheek before smiling wider at Emily. Oh dear, Nico must not have mentioned that Charity wouldn't be wearing four inch heels and haute couture. That made sense; he wasn't really one to care about that sort of thing. She'd frequently had to remind him not to wear those ragged red converse of his out on fancy dates. In all of her khaki-and-polo-button-down glory, Charity held out a hand to shake the other girl's. "Hi, Emily. I'm Charity. I know we've sort of met before, but we should just forget all that. Rough week and all, wasn't exactly at my best. How are you?"
"Very well, thank you," Emily replied, trying not to let her nervousness show through her smile. Oh god, Charity was wearing normal-person clothes. Why hadn't Nico warned her that Charity didn't dress like that all the time?
That was a silly question, and Emily knew it was as soon as it ran screaming through her mind. Nico never thought about stuff like that. It was one of the things she liked about him, really: he wasn't all fussy about clothes and appearances, and he judged people based on who they were not just what they looked like. That also meant, however, that he was useless when it came to preparing her for dinner with someone who was clearly very conscious of her appearance. Emily now felt terribly overdressed in her dress and heels, thankful only for the fact that Charity was so tall that at least she wasn't towering over her as she took the proffered hand.
"Your flat is really lovely," she went on politely. "Thank you so much for inviting me."
It didn't take any immense amount of thinking nor sharpened skills of deduction for Nico to notice that his sister had opted for a more casual style tonight when Emily had approached with something less casual. Both women had pegged it spot-on: he wasn't a clothes horse by any means, and only now was it occurring to him that maybe he should've asked Charity what the evening was going to be like for a dress code. His sister knew to expect him in his usual assortment of geek-wear -- although, he had decided against a t-shirt printed with some variety of Star Wars or comic book logo in a moment of shining maturity and went with a short-sleeved button-up that was halfway respectable -- but Emily...
Er. Whoops. Lack of foresight on that one.
And, as much as it made Charity cringe, Nico did often favour his worn red Chuck Taylors, even if the situation likely called for something on the dressier side shoe-wise. In fact, the faded-red pair of trainers were on his feet at present, and it was upon them that Nico found himself sheepishly looking. He slowly lifted his gaze when he realised the silence meant he likely ought to say something next. "Yeah, we... uh... well, we went to see Jackson before we came over. I was just telling Emily that I've got a feeling Manster probably thought he was going to have a playmate."
"You're very welcome. I hope you've brought your appetite. Afraid I made a little too much food. I wasn't sure if you were a vegetarian, so I made sure I had enough non-meat related items... just in case." Charity backed up, gesturing toward the small dining area near the kitchen. Plates, glasses, wine, and something that looked sneakily like strawberry shortcake were all laid out on the table.
"Or he smelt fresh blood." Charity smiled cheekily to Emily, indicating that she meant her. "He loves to meet new people and slobber all over them. I took him to training classes, but he's just so damned excitable when it comes to new friends. Make yourself at home. Do you want some wine? Nic, I've got some Coke for you; didn't want to poison you with water or tea."
"A glass of wine would be lovely, thank you," Emily replied, trying to decide what to make of how very...normal Charity seemed. She wasn't sneering or looking down her nose or being chilly this time, and Emily wasn't quite sure how to interpret that. It was possible, of course, that Charity really had simply been having a bad day when they'd last met. It was equally possible, though, that this was that fake-nice thing that girls would do to lull a person into a false sense of security before eviscerating her.
Best to keep the guard up for a little bit. She wasn't sure if if she should sit or remain standing, so she decided to let social inertia keep her upright for the time being. "I'd love to meet him after dinner," Emily offered, finding it easier to keep down the panic now that it wasn't all a great unknown. "I love dogs."
He'd nearly groaned at the mention of wine, but with the assurance of a cold glass of Coke waiting on him, Nico found a smile suited much better. "You," he started, pointing at Charity, "are the best." And he didn't hear anything about empty calories preceding nor proceeding mention of that Coke. It was true: the small things in life were the ones worth being grateful for.
Emily seemed to be easing up, as well. Shoot himself in the foot for thinking things were off to a good start, but Nico felt almost convinced that -- minor wardrobe misalignments aside -- he was looking at his sister and his girlfriend actually getting along. Or, at the very least, they were conversing freely.
Being just out of Emily's sight as he went to slip around her to reach an empty setting at the table, Nico flipped his sister a double thumbs-up when certain he'd caught her eye. His expression was a brow-raised, expectant sort, almost asking if Emily had the seal of approval yet. He couldn't help it. As relaxed as he was about most things in life, few were so important as Charity liking his girlfriend.
"I'll bring him out later. I think meat on the table and a pretty girl would be a little too much for Manny at the same time," Charity answered with a smile. She knew exactly what Nico wanted, but she couldn't honestly say. Emily seemed nice enough, but then again, Donna had fooled them both for ten months. She'd made Nico cry, and that was not something Charity would ever forgive. Ever since then, she'd been over-protective of her brother.
"Have a seat, and I'll get the stir-fry, the wine, and other goodies," Charity said, scooting backward to disappear into the kitchen as soon as her guests were seated.
Emily waited until Nico sat before sitting down herself. The last thing she wanted was to be the only person sitting in a room full of standing people. That was almost as bad as being the only person standing in a room full of sitting people.
"It smells really wonderful, Charity," she offered, trying to ease her shyness with talking. Emily had decided that she would treat this like being at work, where she had to be confident and outgoing even if she was scared out of her wits. She wasn't managing it quite as well as she did in her job, but she at least hadn't frozen up completely (or passed out) and Charity really did seem to be much more pleasant this time around (or at least hadn't Force-choked her).
Nico had dropped his hands before Emily could see. It didn't bother him quite so much; hardly daft, he knew that three minutes was barely enough for Charity to give him any sort of reply. It was just that after he knew his was the sole fault in botching up the last time, he sincerely wanted some sign that this meeting would go well, that Charity would like Emily and vice versa. If there was any part of the night that was eating his nerves, it was precisely that.
Although, his nerves were barely a match for the promise of a hot, home-cooked meal. Anyone that ever made a remark that the way to a man's heart was through his stomach likely had someone like Nico Summerby in mind. He turned to Emily, fairly beaming. "I like to think I helped her out on the cooking front. I can't make anything worth a damn, but Char here's got the skills. I always figured there must be some sort of cosmic balance that made me pants with anything involving an open flame, and gave her the talent, instead." Looking over his shoulder, he called aloud for his sister to hear, "Not that I'm complaining!"
"Nico plus an open flame is death. Emily, don't ever let him near one if you value your eyebrows!" Charity called from the kitchen.
A moment later, several piping hot dishes were placed in their designated spots, though mentally she really wished she could have used magic. It would have been one tiny little trip. The bottle of wine was last She poured Emily and herself glasses before setting what she suspected was the first of many Cokes for Nico near his glass of ice. Setting herself down, she gestured for them to dig in. "I told you that I made too much!" She leaned in to Emily a little conspiratorially, "but I bet Nic plows through the beef all on his own."
Emily laughed nervously, because there was really nothing she could say that didn't make her sound ridiculous. She had a metabolism that simply wouldn't quit, and tended to be virtually constantly snacking on something. She needed a minute to think before she just spit out "Oh, that's okay, I'm sure I can devour an entire cow's worth myself."
"It's all right," she said instead. "I still haven't gotten the knack for cooking for less than five people, myself. I got so used to sizing things for my family when I was learning to cook that I haven't been able to shake it yet."
There. That had been good. She'd responded nicely with a personal comment that didn't make her sound like an idiot or a ravening beast of a thousand mouths. Things were, Emily decided, going better.
Nico had given a fair nod to Charity's remark about his lack of coordination when it came fire hazards. On a good day he could manage a scrambled egg or a grilled cheese, but there was a reason he'd latched onto his microwave so much. It allowed even the hopeless to produce something potentially edible and that sort of... kind of resembled something like mum might've made. If mum packaged things in sealed plastic bags in sealed cardboard boxes.
He pulled a near frown at the second light jab, about to cut in that if she was challenging him, he could completely upend her prediction. He had willpower! ...Actually, it was Charity that had reminded him of that one fact in recent weeks, but as of the moment, he was certain it was definitely his to tap into without needing a nudge. But, Emily answered first, and most of the fuss had fizzled out. And, well, the beef had been exactly the first thing he'd reached for. It was a tricky place to retort from. He offered a shrug to both women. "Unless it's not too much, after all? Eye of the beholder and all that?"
Charity smirked in Nico's direction, stockpiling her plate rather full of assorted goodies. She likely rivaled Nico's plate, except that she had more vegetables than meat. "Better to make too much and have leftovers, than not enough, I say. Even if it's very un-British of me to admit I like leftovers."
She passed everything in Emily's direction, trying to keep her tone light and airy. It wasn't too difficult; Charity was a champ at talking to people. "So, tell me all about you, Emily. Where do you work?"
Relieved to see Charity eating like a real person, Emily didn't feel bad about piling up her own plate as much as she wanted. She went ahead and got enough food to actually feed herself, instead of worrying that Charity was going to comment on her eating twice her own weight. "I'm Assistant Director of Student Activities at the University of St. George," she replied, happy to find herself talking about a topic she was comfortable with. She didn't know what she would have done if Charity had asked her about television or football. "Which sounds more impressive than it actually is, honestly. But I'm the secondary advisor to the Students Union and primary advisor to an assortment of smaller campus organisations, which means I help them with planning programs, fund-raising, and really anything else they might get up to."
Nico grinned over at Charity as he popped the cap off his bottle of Coke, which gave the satisfying hiss and only just missed foaming out the top. "I think it's time to face it, Char. You're always going to be surrounded by us school-ish, teacher-ish types." Turning then to Emily, then, he explained, "Both our parents are teachers." If he recalled right, that hadn't ever popped up in a conversation before, and in all honesty he rarely ever thought about it much these days. Originally it had been a point about just how much he was taking after them, but somewhere along the lines it began feeling like it was all coincidence. He had wanted the job; it wasn't as if he was held to some family tradition.
The one thing about holding a dinner was that when you were actually eating conversation sort of took a back seat. Especially when you were eating with Nico. That last sentence would be the last sentence he uttered save a few grunts and 'huhs'. "It's a good thing some of my favourite people are teachers then, isn't it?" Charity replied cheekily.