Joined: 03 Apr 2015
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Can Be Found: [Firehouse 316 - Auxiliary Fire & Rescue]
2284.16 Silver Crowns
|Posted: Mon Dec 25, 2017 12:37 am Post subject: Marry Christmas
|Christmas. It was one of the few times of year that Will didn't ruin his environment with his sense of humor.
Christmas Eve itself had been something special, a day long visit from Crispin and Shae, a training session that ended up more of a hangout session, with casual snacking, videogames, and eventually the Fundane digging deep into his cooking repertoire to prepare them homemade stir-fry and shrimp fried rice. It was a special holiday for him, so while he downplayed the significance, he was less than half as likely to tease/antagonize and twice as generous. The exception being MarioKart (Sorry, Cris). Their eventual departure came with the promise to return for supper the next night, a ham and all the fixings, leaving Will and Nicanora alone in the soft glow of their tree, finishing off the nice bottle of wine bought for the occasion and, just as importantly,finishing what they'd start early that morning.
Christmas came early that year. Will? He came often.
The morning started much as they night had ended, with feverish kisses and tangled limbs, merry sounds echoing off the walls of the apartment. When they were sated, momentarily at least, Will left his dozing beauty for the kitchen, waking her for real some time later with a kiss and a steaming mug of her favorite coffee; a light breakfast of fluffy eggs, bacon, and brioche toast.
Nothing said good morning like a dark roast with just the right amount of cream, crispy bacon, toast slathered in strawberry preserves, and the most divine eggs this side of heaven. Breakfast in bed wasn't unusual by any means, a nice return to semi-normality after the odd peculiarities the not-so-Mundane had been showing as of late. Nica had chalked it up to her increasing training and case time and all of the extra hours he had been putting in at work. Still, she rolled out of bed long enough for a trip to the bathroom and a quick brush of her hair and teeth before returning to bed and the tray he had brought in. As she climbed back into bed and tucked her legs beneath the still warm blanket, she cut the paramedic a sleepy but content smile and scooped up a single piece of bacon. "Feliz Navidad, hermoso."
Nicanora received a slow, lingering kiss before that bacon could reach her pretty lips. "Merry Christmas, Fanny."
His body was soon melded gently to hers again, an innocent intimacy where they half spooned together as they shared breakfast, casual conversation mixed in between bites. When breakfast was done, the beautiful brunette Nephilim was pulled back beneath the heavy covers of their bed again, another proper good morning shared and another lazy hour laying there after, before the paramedic himself roused them both from bed. "Shower now or later?"
There were more gifts beneath the tree then there had been the night before.
"Mmm, let's say later. Maybe once the ham's in the oven?" She offered out with a languid stretch that ended with her flopping back on the bed with a noncommittal groan. Presents were exciting sure, but he had done a particularly thorough job of wearing her out. If they were going to entertain company later in the day, it would be important to save their strength. Or something. Really, she could have benefitted from more coffee. Speaking of, she sat back up and got to her feet with no small amount of begrudging reluctance. "Perhaps coffee and presents, then a shower, eh?"
"I'll get the coffee," he intoned over his shoulder, slipping into a pair of plaid pajama pants and a t-shirt. "You start tearin' up wrapping paper. Preferably naked."
"There a fire going yet?" That would dictate just how much clothing she wore out into the living room. For a renovated warehouse, it was still rather drafty and this wasn't Miami in December.
He lingered in the kitchen for a time, wolfing down what was left of the eggs and another piece of toast, before joining her at the couch with a steaming mug clutched in each hand. Happy to be lazy from there, he watched her with lapis blue eyes.
"Not yet." Will wasn't a mind reader, but he knew when his woman wanted something. Laziness would have to wait. Both mugs were set down and he was then moving to toss some logs into their well-used fireplace. With a Duralog added, the fire caught and built easily, albeit still slowly, but they didn't have terribly long to wait before the warm air was wafting towards them.
Yet was a good keyword. So rather than dig out fluffy pajamas, she wrapped herself in a fleece throw blanket and hauled herself out into the open layout that lay beyond their bedroom, one of the few closed off areas of the floor that made up their apartments. By the time she made it there, he had it slowly crackling, so she wrapped the blanket like a towel around herself and stacked an armful of presents up to bring back to the couch. They were lovingly dumped between the two of them on the center cushion long enough for her to steal a sip of his coffee and then her own coffee before shoving a rectangular box his way to open. "Which one shall I open first?"
"Any one you want, Nicanora," he let her name roll of his tongue. "All the way to the bottom of the pile." Will chewed on the inside of his cheek momentarily but hid the mild apprehension behind the tip of his mug as he drank. The first box she opened was a new set of leather boots, custom work with slip-resistant soles and three sheaths for slim throwing blades at the east, south, and west positions. Matte black, no gloss.
"Shoooooooes," she squeed happily and hugged the boots to her chest. Supple, well made, they would hold up well in training and work both. In trade, he had a brand new pair of running shoes in black and blue with bright blue laces. Working through her pile, there were shirts and games and gloves, a soccer jersey that she put on right then and there. For the paramedic, a Nintendo DS with games (to keep him occupied during slow times at work), padded sparring gloves that oddly matched the ones he had bought her, and a festive pair of boxers that had little jingle bells on them. "My father sent a card too... included your name on it. So... Merry Christmas."
"That's good," he murmured against her neck when he was through marveling at her thoughtfulness, having made a small treasure pile out of the gifts she had given him. Her face was turned towards his with a touch of the hand so that he could kiss her long and slow, sweeter than it was sensual, but when he broke it, he did so to speaking against her lips. "I know we've got some stuff for the others in there, but I think you missed one in the back."
It was there, easy to miss in the shadows beneath the tree. It was a moderately large box, wrapped in velvety black with a tag on it that read: 'For the beautiful woman in black, a hunter in the night'.
"It's progress." Nica nodded, carefully stacking her bounty bit by bit on the coffee table. It was a lovely little horde, modest but thoughtful in all of the right ways. She had just finished drinking from her mug when he tipped her chin toward him. The inevitable smile was evident against his lips all the while, even as he broke away to mumble a nudge back toward the tree. Ever so reluctantly she spilled from her entanglement, leaving the fleece blanket behind to traipse over to the tree one last time. It took some (intentional) bending over to find the last box with her name on it. Pretty and black, she pulled it free and gave it a little shake on her way back to the couch. "Black for hunting through the night... what've we got here, Sir Loaf?"
How could he not admire that view? One that never got old...
"Open it," he urged her, trying not to sound to eager and failing.
Within the black wrapped box was another, this one smaller than the first and wrapped in velvety red. Another tag adorned this box, written in the paramedic's near scrawl: 'A beautiful warrior woman who enchanted me and stole my heart'. Opening it revealed yet another smaller box, this wrapped in crisp white paper, its tag reading: 'We've shared our loss, our mourning, and in doing so have grown so much closer together'. After it green, the words on the tag written with a shakier hand: 'You've filled my heart and I can only hope my love has mended yours some, or at least we can be broken together'.
The last was the smallest box of all. It was a small, domed jewelry box molded with pretty golden foil. It opened easily, revealing the sparkling piece of jewelry within. It fit their relationship and the situation, but even as the realization set it, Will was sliding off of the couch and onto the floor, kneeling between her knees. He held his tongue and waiting for what he saw in her expression before speaking.
"I am, I am..." She said with a laugh, her fingers slipping beneath the edge of the soft wrapping to peel it away. Bit by bit, she pulled it aside then set the velveteen paper on the floor beside the couch. It didn't take much to pop the box open but rather than find her gift, there was another box. Her brows lifted and she gave him an incredulous look. Her eyes ticked over the note as she free the second box and began unwrapping it, her lips moving with the words on the next one. Toward the end, her teeth tugged at the inside of her cheek and she gingerly freed the third box. Once more she was (not so) surprised to find yet another box inside. The green one's tag was a bit harder to read but she made it through enough to get it open and find the last parcel within. Gold, gorgeous gold. It came away with ease but she already knew what the box under it was. Her thumbs pressed against the lid as Will slipped onto the floor in front of her. For some reason her mouth had gone terribly dry, her eyes wide and her expression somewhere between confused and elated. "Will?"
"There's nothin' in the world that I wouldn't do for you. For us." His hands slid up over her knees, and then along her thighs, until rising to capture her hands in his, which were trembling. Lapis blue eyes were locked onto her lovely face in the subtle light. "I want you to be my wife. I want to marry you. I... f*ck, I want this and I never thought I would. I want all of it. Truly, madly, deeply. I even asked Crispin, Nee, and the Altatorres for their blessing... I know there's supposed to be a family ring but this was the best I could do. Maybe later I can have one made and we can..."
He was rambling.
"I know it." She said softly, her chin lowering slightly. Her hands closed around the box as his fingers wrapped hers up and though she was intent on what may have been in it, she was far more interested in what he had to say instead. Crispin and Niamh had known, those bastards. But even Christopher's parents knew. It made her wonder if Gregorio knew by now or not. Surely she would have never heard the end of it if he had. The weight of the silver right on her left middle finger was awfully heavy at the moment. Beneath his touch, she shifted it until it began to slide down the long, thin finger where it dangled at the very tip.
"Hold this for me?" Nica intoned, the Truecross ring pinched in her grasp until he took it. Then and only then did she push up on the jewelry box's lid to espy what was within. Held between six blunt silver prongs was a round brilliant cut diamond. On either side, it was flanked by a rebel insignia with inset gemstones in a pale blue shade. Topaz maybe, Nica wasn't sure but it was gorgeous. She freed it from its bed in the box and held it up for inspection, her smile steadily growing. "I think Christopher would have approved..."
Will took the ring as asked, closing it up securely in one fist. His gaze dipped from her lovely face, following her stare down to the box as it opened. He was deathly silent as she inspected the ring and when she spoke again, a small smile curved his mouth. "I'll never be him. Can't be. But I promise to love you with everything I've got and that I'll move heaven and hell, if that's what it takes, when you need me. Be my wife, Nicanora Truecross."
"Hey, oye." She stopped her inspection, looking up to meet his gaze. With her free hand, she touched at his jaw and leaned down just long enough to kiss the bridge of his nose. "I don't want you to be him. Separate but equal in different ways, I promise." Another kiss, this one to the edge of his mouth and then a third full on the lips. It was best if she didn't overthink things, not right now. The moment was too... perfect. They could figure out the details when the elation settled. "Sí. Seré tu esposa, Will."
When she said yes, he kissed her again, long and slow. There was a lot of emotion to convey in that kiss, but even as their mouths sealed, the Fundane took the ring from her hand with his empty one and slowly slipped it onto her finger. The act only caused him to deepen his kiss, allowing this to grow deliciously scandalous until they were both breathless and he was drawing back. "Merry Christmas, Fanny."
Her fumbling for his hands wasn't nearly as steady, grasping for the silver ring in his hold to wiggle it on to his pinky before he finally drew back. There was that smile, full lipped and bright. "Happy date-iversary too... I'm totally kicking Crispin's ass later, just so you know..."
"Good." Will grinned. "He needs a good shaming every once in a while to remind him of the natural order of things. " For a few moments, the paramedic flexed his hand, getting used to the feel of the ring on his finger. "Now... what do you say I peel you out of that jersey and we go have a nice long, thorough, hot celebration shower?"
He was already between her knees so it was easy to wrap her legs around his waist, slipping to the edge of the couch to loop her arms around his neck. "I say let's go."
"You're the best ho-ho-ho ever." He kissed her again and lifted her up off of the couch, carrying her towards the bathroom.
Joined: 12 Jan 2016
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Can Be Found: Hialeah, Florida, USA
772.80 Silver Crowns
|Posted: Wed Feb 07, 2018 3:36 pm Post subject:
|One Week Before Christmas
It wasn't often that Niamh heard from the plucky paramedic that had seemed to have stolen her ex girlfriend's heart. Sometimes she did, for the sake of a funny meme picture or a borderline offensive (but still completely hilarious) joke involving werewolves, lesbians, or the Irish, but still it was few and far between. She still heard from Nica here and there, though less and less as the Nephilim withdrew from the Earth side of things in favor of the modest life she had begrudgingly built in Rhydin. Some part of Niamh thought maybe Rhydin didn't sound so bad, well away from the Clave's influence and reach, where the Shadow World wasn't so shadowy. People like her could live freely without fear of being outed for who and what they were. Of course it would mean leaving behind her friends and chosen family here. It's likely why she stayed. When Will sent her a text saying he wanted to talk to her, she was understandably curious, less wolf, more kitten. It resulted in a quick response back; Call me at 5, I'll be free.
Of everyone else he had spoken to or intended to, Nee was the one Will was the least apprehensive over seeking out for a discussion. They had bonded early on, even before Nicanora had stolen his heart completely, and he held the werewolf in a regard akin to companionable affection. Really, Niamh was the tits. Still, it was a tall order, so as the line rang, he found himself nervously tapping his fingers until she picked up, upon which he... Fundaned her.
"Oi! S' this the Miami Branch o' the IRA? I heard ye were tha bomb!"
"Best watch who ye talk to like that, seppo." Niamh shot back with a laugh. The paramedic's smiling mug had flashed across her screen before she answered so she could only snicker at his terrible accent and horrible punning. From the call she glanced up to make sure closing down the shop was going smoothly. It was, of course, they were a well oiled machine by now. It gave the boss lady a chance to step into the office, kick the door shut, and flop down into a worn out chair behind the old metal desk. "Anyways, What can I do ya for, Loverboy?"
"Mm, talk to me dirty in Gaelic and I'll be Team Jacob forever." On the other end of the line, it was quiet save for the flick of a lighter as Will lit a cigarette. He took a moment to inhale and enjoy the nicotine as it took affect, before settling in and, for lack of a better word, sobering up. "Well, Nee, I need to talk about Nicanora. I need, well, are you cool on clandestine conversations where she's concerned?"
"Ye really make me worried fer yer mental health sometimes, boyo." She heard the telltale snap-strike of the lighter and the subsequent inhale. Will wasn't much of a smoker to her recollection, not unless things were bad. She quieted for a few moments, especially when he brought the pretty Nephilim up. That he didn't immediately follow with bad news soothed her if only moderately. "Yeah, 'm nah beholden to her or anythin'. What's goin' on?"
"Well, I did this thing..." He started. "Or, well, I'm gonna. I wanna. It could be the greatest thing ever or blow up in my face. You know how these things go...."
"Oi..." She tried to stop him before he got too far. "Ye didn't knock 'er up, did ye?"
"No! Well, not yet? I mean... I totally would, wouldn't you?"
"I don't have the right bits fer it, bruh." Nee chuffed a laugh.
"You know, if you ever wanted to, I'd have your back. We could sprinkle some of my baby batter in a strap-on turkey baster and you could just go to town on a gal. I believe in you." Terrible AND rambling.
"..." She was quiet for a few moments, likely picturing the worst mental image possible, only to bust up laughing a moment later. "Think I'll be passin' on that one fer the time bein'. Anywho, ye said somethin' 'bout clandestine conversations. Go on?"
At that, Will took a deep breath. "Nee, she loves you and you love her. That's a big deal for me. A really big one."
"If I told ye once, I told ye a thousand times. I'm not havin' a threesome with the two o' ye." Super duper serious voice. The face didn't match, but Will couldn't see that.
"Not even for an engagement present?"
"Not even for an..." You could practically hear the record scratch. "HOLD UP. Back up a moment. What?"
"Niamh," Will intoned, a little more serious this time. "I'm gonna ask Nicanora to be my wife. I... I would like to have your blessing."
"Oh ***..." She said quietly into the phone before loosing a low whistle. "Yer nah ***' with me, are ye?"
"Serious as a heart attack. I love her, Nee. More than anything. I want her to be my wife."
"Ye know it's a big deal, aye? Somethin' like this, to them?" Them was a generalized term that was understood to mean the Nephilim, the hoity toity selective snots that they were.
"I know what I'm askin'. I'm aware of what could happen." He took another slow drag and exhaled it a few moments later. "I want her to be my wife, Nee."
It was Niamh's turn to light up, with a crinkle of a half smoked pack, the flip of a zippo, a few moments and then a long drag. "'M not gonna try ta talk ye outta it, just wanted to be sure ye knew what yer gettin' into. Why do ye want my blessin' of all people?"
"Yeah," he murmured in response. "I know. Why? You love her. She loves you. It's not like she's got a ton of people. I want the blessing of the ones who matter. You're one of those people. I hold you in pretty high regard too."
She chuffed a short, mirthless laugh with her exhale. For a few moments, the only sign that they were still connected was the intermittent suck and puff on the cigarette. "So long as ye know what yer doin' here... I just want the two o' ye to be happy, dig? And as long as I can wear a suit instead of a dress to the shindig."
"We are happy. I just want to make her happier." She could hear his smile. "And you can stand up on my side. We'll get zoot suits."
"Sounds like a riot." Her smile was there, wary but evident even in her tone. Some part of her wondered if the fundane on the other end was in over his head. Still, she was supportive. "Alrigh' then, ye've got m' go ahead fer it."
"And the threesome?"
Niamh laughed again. "In yer dreams, kid. Wish ye luck just the same. When're ye gonna do it?" Beat. "The proposal, not the wannabe threesome."
"Christmas. I'm gonna do it up right. Or whatever right may be." He snorted laughter for the rebuff. "C' mon. One more go at Nicanora for ol' time's sake?"
"Keep talkin' 'bout the lass like she be chattel and I don't think she'll be sayin' aye to yer question." She tutted into the mouthpiece and stubbed out her cigarette in a nearby ashtray. "But I've nah seen someone get to that girl like ye do, so I think ye'll do alrigh'."
"She's something special. " He said with a private smile. "I'll make sure she calls you Christmas Day and she can tell you all about how I stumbled all over myself."
"Just don't puke. There's nothing romantic about Will you marry--bleeeeeeeeeeeeeegh me."
"No puking," he promised. "And no cryin'. Well, I mean, she can cry."
"Alrigh'. You can do it, don't lemme down, champ."
"Thanks, Nee. It really means a lot to me. A *** ton, really. Now... I need to call the Altatorres..."
"Gonna talk to her old man too? Or just them?"
"Just them. I know how the other conversation will go."
"Grr argh, me bad Shadowhunter, dishonor on you, dishonor on your cow, etcetera, etcetera?"
"That. Right there. So much that. Yeah... I'm sure he'll find out sooner rather than later."
"You realize Chris's Da is Nica's Da's hetero lifemate, parabro-whatsit, right?"
"Yup. Good luck and God speed, m'boy."
"Maybe I should call him. Alright. Thanks, Nee. You are the best lesbian friend ever."
"Obviously I am. Remember that when ye name yer first born." She snickered and rocked back in her chair. "It was good hearin' from ye, Loaf. Lemme know how it goes."
"Will do. Love ya, Nee."
"Peace be with ye, Will. Nic too. Slán." Click
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