Friday, November 29, 2013
A Proper Redemption?
So I decided to write about Nick's redemption or rather his grand apology to Ziva for being such an ass, and wow did it go on! Who knew Nicky had it in him!
It's long, but I didn't have the heart to chop it into multiple post so...I hope you have the time to enjoy. :D
Sweat poured off of Ziva as she returned from her extended run. She looked like a hobo in the making, but with her raised hormone levels and those of her sister and aunt as well, she figured sweat was better than murder. Especially if the murder in question was of one of her family. Even though most of the time they deserved a good pounding.
“She’s gonna be so mad at you, mom.” Her sister, Cami, crouched down in front of her mother and aunt, peeking through a slit in the swinging door to the kitchen.
“How could I say no?”
“It’s easy, Oksana, no. See simple,” Her aunt chided. “But, I’m glad you didn’t.”
“Mad, mad, mad…I’m telling you.”
“Turkey, Cami, that there is a turkey…Ziva didn’t bring home turkey and really, what is Thanksgiving without turkey?”
Great, she’s going to keep paying the price for that lapse in judgment for some time to come. Now that she was once again living at home the fun just never ended.
“Cami’s right, Oksana, Ziva is going to rip off your head and shite down your…”
“Liliya, please stop…”
“I heard that on a movie. Not sure I remember which one, but it was an action one with hot buff guys. Not unlike the hottie in the kitchen. We need more hotties around here.”
Her aunts longing was crystal clear and agreed upon by everyone in the house, even Ziva, who just a few days before sated, well, almost sated…no whet was a better word for what she did with her own hottie instead of getting the turkey that some random good-looker now had in the kitchen.
“Ah, what’s going on ladies?” Each female family member jumped sky high with her suddenly growled out question.
“Ziva!” Cami held nothing back in her greeting, like she was warning someone.
“We were, um, see the thing is, sweet niece…”
“He had turkey, darling. Turkey!”
Ziva pushed her mother, sister and aunt out of the way, dreading, but having a good idea who she’d find in the kitchen.
“Hello Mat, eh, Ziva. How are you this fine day?” Nick congratulated himself on not finishing his initial thought to call her mate. Even though in truth she was still and would always be his mate, she was also pissed as hell at him and wouldn’t appreciate the reminder that she was linked to him in any way.
“No, you cannot be here!”
Good Lupa she was a sight. Her skin tinged red from both anger and exertion. The fine sheen of sweat dripping down the front of her shirt, between the awe inspiring breasts, in which, he loved to immerse himself. She was ready to fight, to send him packing, but he couldn’t allow that just now. He had reparations to make. A heartfelt apology to render and possibly a bit of begging. He needed her home. Their pup missed her almost as much as he did. “I brought turkey, and all of the fixings…including the giblet infused stuffing annnnnd the fresh cranberry mix you love. No worries, I told everyone it was for me.”
“Why does everyone keep telling me that?”
“Bribery?” Nick shot her the grin that always got them past the mad and into the bad dog lovin’. “It appears your family quite missed having a bird for yesterday’s dinner.”
"And whose fault was that?”
Nick swallowed back the smile wanting to break loose at her crossed arms and tapping foot. She did this right before she slid a ruler from some unknown nook and cranny of her body during their play.
“Mine, it was all my fault that you missed getting that turkey the other day and so I’ve brought a replacement. Plus, this one is bigger.”
“Damn right it was your fault, but you did bring the cranberries…”
“I did.” Thank Lupa he’d remembered her special fondness for the herbie treat, she was starting to cave. “Freshly mushed and everything.”
“Who did you scam into making it all for you?”
“No one. I did it all myself.” Kind of
“Nick, I’ve lived with you…there is only one thing you can cook well and it’s a steak that’s barely touched the grill. Who made this dinner?”
She knew him too well for him to glide over the truth and they both knew it. “I really did make everything myself, but Mrs. Elly stood over me, telling me what to do and preaching about how much better I’d feel if I gave up the flesh eating. I also had to make double on everything for Pop and the Ewing clan…two birds and I swear a billion sides since that’s all the boneheads will eat.”
“I’m glad Pops, and you, got some meat yesterday.”
Her shuffle was adorable. She cared, but didn’t want to let on about it. “Actually, only Pop got the turkey. I had to eat a herbie meal as payment to Mrs. Elly for her instruction. It was worth it though, to be here today.”
Sure he was laying it on thick, but she was teetering and he really needed her to fall back into his arms and he needed some of that bird.
“That’s a pity…
“White or dark?”
“Dark please, Nicolas-dear.” Her mother said, not looking at their ridiculously dressed waiter.
“White or dark?”
“Both please. It’s so hard to choose which meat is better. The white is so juicy, but the dark has such a distinctive taste. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Ziva caught the laugh bubbling up inside at her aunts antics. Leave it to Liliya to turn turkey preferences into something sexual. Nick though was being a trooper through it all. Maybe he really did want to be forgiven.
“Sorry, ma’am, I wouldn’t know which is better.”
“White or dark?”
“Come on Nicky,” her sister Cami cajoled. “You must like one better than the other? Dark please. Which do you prefer?”
“Dark Miss Cami.”
The large huff of air around his answer indeed spoke for itself. He was nearing the end of his tether and yet he held on.
“White or dark?”
“Definitely white.” She winked up at him after he set the slices on her plate. “Thank you, Nick.
Please leave the turkey here and go wait in the kitchen until we are through or have need of you further.”
His hungry look at the meat and then at her before setting the bird down and fading into the other room cinched things for her quite nicely.
“Oh Ziva, now you really must forgive him,” her sister whispered her way. “Making him serve us in my old French maid costume, he has great legs by the way, was one thing, but then not letting him have any turkey? Damn, he’s earned a pass.”
Ziva smiled to herself and silently agreed with her sister. He did have nice legs and damn, but the turkey was delicious. “Yeah, Cami, I’m thinking about it.”