Picnics and Pacifiers
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the LFN characters, I sometimes fiddle with them to my own ends but I always return them none the worst for the ride. Nearly. I do however, own Christian.
A/N: This is alternative universe Nikita all, she may not sound like the Nikita we all love, but that's the point of AU.
Summary: Nikita is having one of those days, but Michael and her son made it all better.
Closing the oven door, Nikita smiled and made a mental note to give it 20 more minutes before taking the roast out. Michael had promised to come home for lunch today so she'd prepared a nice roast with new potatoes and baby carrots. She had enough time to clean the house, throw another two loads into the laundry, feed the baby, and shower before lunch.
Opening the utility closet, she took out the vacuum and got to work.
*************************
*Vroom vroom, Vezzzz. Sputter.*
"What in the..." bending down over the Hoover, Nikita saw that she'd vacuumed up a cord of string that Christian had been teasing the kitten with the night before. With a sign, she sat down and began trying to detangle the string from the roller. Instead of loosening the string her ministrations were having the opposite affect.
Annoyed, Nikita got up and headed to the laundry room to root through Michael's toolbox for a screw diver to take the thing apart so that she could finish vacuuming the house.
Finding the tool, Nikita turned, finally conscience of the silence of the washing machine. Flipping open the lid Nikita bent down to open the drier so that she could load it with the wet clothes.
"Damn it!" Nikita hissed through her teeth, absently tossing the screwdriver back into the open toolbox. Leaning over the open washing machine, she reached in and began pulling soggy clothes out, dumping them into the wicker basket. The damn thing decided to die in the middle of the spin cycle. How in the hell was she going to ring water out of jeans?
*Ding Dong*
Looking up from the mess in front of her, Nikita wiped her hands on her pants and went to see who was at the door.
"Good morning Mrs. Samuelle," Ed the postman greeted her with his usual smile.
"Morning Ed. What do you have for me today?" Nikita replied with a strained smile.
"The usual," he said, looking through his bag. Pulling something bulky out, he looked up at Nikita, "And a package, the postmark says that it's from Victoria. Sign here please."
Handing the clipboard back, Nikita took the letters and tucked the package under her arm, with a smile she wished Ed a good day. Closing the door with her hip, Nikita walked toward the den, flipping through the bills with a grimace. Not noticing where she was going she tripped over the prone vacuum.
Trying to break her fall, Nikita let go of the letters and threw her arms out before her, bracing for the fall. Landing in an inelegant heap, she grabbed her ankle in pain, "Bloody hell!"
After crawling around, retrieving the scattered letters, Nikita hoisted herself up and limped into the den and tossed them on the desk. Turning her attention to the package she leaned against the desk, taking the pressure off of her bruised ankle and reached for the letter opener.
*Ring, Ring*
Picking up the receiver, she answered with a distracted, "Hullo?"
"Mr. or Mrs. Michael Samuelle please."
"This is Mrs. Samuelle."
"Good morning madam, my name is Jason Henry and I'm calling to let you know how AT & T Canada Corp. can save your family money on your long distance bill every month."
"Mama! Mama!"
With a grimace, Nikita turned a worried frown toward the direction of her son's voice. "No thanks," she begin in a distracted voice.
Ignoring her, the pushy tele-marketer aggressively continued, "Mrs. Samuelle, were you aware that Bell Canada has raised it prices on international calls by $0.15 per minute and $0.04 per minute for domestic long distance calls? AT & T Canada offers a fixed rate of..."
"Never mind!" *Click*, Nikita hung up the phone and limped toward her son's room.
Opening the door, Christian's tear stained face greeted her. Moving to his crib, Nikita reached in and lifted her unhappy son into her arms. Cuddling him close, Nikita kissed him atop his head, tenderly rubbing her cheek against his downy curls. "Mama's sorry for all the noise sweetie," she soothed.
"Eat mama", the twelve month old demanded, looking at her with his father's jade eyes.
Smiling into his frowning face, Nikita walking through the house to the kitchen. Standing in the threshold of the kitchen, Nikita stood shock still, staring at the stove in horror.
"Eat now!"
Looking down at her son, Nikita hurried and put Christian in his highchair. Turning toward the stove and the black smoke billowing out of it. "Please, no. Please, please, please," she chanted as she turned the stove off and pulling the oven door open. Smoke began to fill the kitchen. Turning to open the window over the sink Nikita grabbed the oven mitts and reached in for her roast.
"I killed it," she whispered to herself.
"Eat now mama! Eat now!" Unable to gain his mother's attention, Christian began to howl as fat tears ran down his chubby cheeks.
Noticing that the waterworks weren't doing the trick, Christian reach for the pacifier penned to his t-shirt and popped it into his mouth.
Watching his mother he decided to wait until she looked his way before crying again.
Putting the blacken roast into the sink, Nikita turned and looked around the kitchen disheartened.
She hadn't gotten anything done today at all. Lunch was ruined, the laundry was a mess, the living room was a wreck, her son was hungry and her leg hurt. Looking over at her son, Nikita moved to sit next to his highchair. As she did so, he began crying around his pacifier as if his little heart was broken.
"I'm a terrible mother!" she wailed.
Pulling his highchair closer, Nikita leaning her forehead against Christians and joined him for a good cry.
Christian abruptly stopped crying. Leaning back he stared at his mother, shocked. Pulling his pacifier out of his own mouth, he stuck it into her's.
Surprised, Nikita hiccuped and looked at her son.
"All better mama?" Christian asked patting her cheeks.
Laughing softy around the pacifier, Nikita lifted her son out of the highchair and hugged him to her.
Looking up at the sound of footsteps, Nikita and Christian saw Michael standing in the kitchen doorway smiling softly at them both.
" I stopped by the deli, I thought we could go to the park for a picnic."
Standing with Christian in her arms, Nikita walked into Michael's and he held them both.
"All better," Nikita murmured into Michael's shirt front, turning her head to look at her son.
Seeing that his mother was indeed "all-better", Christian nicked his pacifier and popped it back into his own mouth, resting in his parents' embrace.
The End.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the LFN characters, I sometimes fiddle with them to my own ends but I always return them none the worst for the ride. Nearly. I do however, own Christian.
A/N: This is alternative universe Nikita all, she may not sound like the Nikita we all love, but that's the point of AU.
Summary: Nikita is having one of those days, but Michael and her son made it all better.
Closing the oven door, Nikita smiled and made a mental note to give it 20 more minutes before taking the roast out. Michael had promised to come home for lunch today so she'd prepared a nice roast with new potatoes and baby carrots. She had enough time to clean the house, throw another two loads into the laundry, feed the baby, and shower before lunch.
Opening the utility closet, she took out the vacuum and got to work.
*************************
*Vroom vroom, Vezzzz. Sputter.*
"What in the..." bending down over the Hoover, Nikita saw that she'd vacuumed up a cord of string that Christian had been teasing the kitten with the night before. With a sign, she sat down and began trying to detangle the string from the roller. Instead of loosening the string her ministrations were having the opposite affect.
Annoyed, Nikita got up and headed to the laundry room to root through Michael's toolbox for a screw diver to take the thing apart so that she could finish vacuuming the house.
Finding the tool, Nikita turned, finally conscience of the silence of the washing machine. Flipping open the lid Nikita bent down to open the drier so that she could load it with the wet clothes.
"Damn it!" Nikita hissed through her teeth, absently tossing the screwdriver back into the open toolbox. Leaning over the open washing machine, she reached in and began pulling soggy clothes out, dumping them into the wicker basket. The damn thing decided to die in the middle of the spin cycle. How in the hell was she going to ring water out of jeans?
*Ding Dong*
Looking up from the mess in front of her, Nikita wiped her hands on her pants and went to see who was at the door.
"Good morning Mrs. Samuelle," Ed the postman greeted her with his usual smile.
"Morning Ed. What do you have for me today?" Nikita replied with a strained smile.
"The usual," he said, looking through his bag. Pulling something bulky out, he looked up at Nikita, "And a package, the postmark says that it's from Victoria. Sign here please."
Handing the clipboard back, Nikita took the letters and tucked the package under her arm, with a smile she wished Ed a good day. Closing the door with her hip, Nikita walked toward the den, flipping through the bills with a grimace. Not noticing where she was going she tripped over the prone vacuum.
Trying to break her fall, Nikita let go of the letters and threw her arms out before her, bracing for the fall. Landing in an inelegant heap, she grabbed her ankle in pain, "Bloody hell!"
After crawling around, retrieving the scattered letters, Nikita hoisted herself up and limped into the den and tossed them on the desk. Turning her attention to the package she leaned against the desk, taking the pressure off of her bruised ankle and reached for the letter opener.
*Ring, Ring*
Picking up the receiver, she answered with a distracted, "Hullo?"
"Mr. or Mrs. Michael Samuelle please."
"This is Mrs. Samuelle."
"Good morning madam, my name is Jason Henry and I'm calling to let you know how AT & T Canada Corp. can save your family money on your long distance bill every month."
"Mama! Mama!"
With a grimace, Nikita turned a worried frown toward the direction of her son's voice. "No thanks," she begin in a distracted voice.
Ignoring her, the pushy tele-marketer aggressively continued, "Mrs. Samuelle, were you aware that Bell Canada has raised it prices on international calls by $0.15 per minute and $0.04 per minute for domestic long distance calls? AT & T Canada offers a fixed rate of..."
"Never mind!" *Click*, Nikita hung up the phone and limped toward her son's room.
Opening the door, Christian's tear stained face greeted her. Moving to his crib, Nikita reached in and lifted her unhappy son into her arms. Cuddling him close, Nikita kissed him atop his head, tenderly rubbing her cheek against his downy curls. "Mama's sorry for all the noise sweetie," she soothed.
"Eat mama", the twelve month old demanded, looking at her with his father's jade eyes.
Smiling into his frowning face, Nikita walking through the house to the kitchen. Standing in the threshold of the kitchen, Nikita stood shock still, staring at the stove in horror.
"Eat now!"
Looking down at her son, Nikita hurried and put Christian in his highchair. Turning toward the stove and the black smoke billowing out of it. "Please, no. Please, please, please," she chanted as she turned the stove off and pulling the oven door open. Smoke began to fill the kitchen. Turning to open the window over the sink Nikita grabbed the oven mitts and reached in for her roast.
"I killed it," she whispered to herself.
"Eat now mama! Eat now!" Unable to gain his mother's attention, Christian began to howl as fat tears ran down his chubby cheeks.
Noticing that the waterworks weren't doing the trick, Christian reach for the pacifier penned to his t-shirt and popped it into his mouth.
Watching his mother he decided to wait until she looked his way before crying again.
Putting the blacken roast into the sink, Nikita turned and looked around the kitchen disheartened.
She hadn't gotten anything done today at all. Lunch was ruined, the laundry was a mess, the living room was a wreck, her son was hungry and her leg hurt. Looking over at her son, Nikita moved to sit next to his highchair. As she did so, he began crying around his pacifier as if his little heart was broken.
"I'm a terrible mother!" she wailed.
Pulling his highchair closer, Nikita leaning her forehead against Christians and joined him for a good cry.
Christian abruptly stopped crying. Leaning back he stared at his mother, shocked. Pulling his pacifier out of his own mouth, he stuck it into her's.
Surprised, Nikita hiccuped and looked at her son.
"All better mama?" Christian asked patting her cheeks.
Laughing softy around the pacifier, Nikita lifted her son out of the highchair and hugged him to her.
Looking up at the sound of footsteps, Nikita and Christian saw Michael standing in the kitchen doorway smiling softly at them both.
" I stopped by the deli, I thought we could go to the park for a picnic."
Standing with Christian in her arms, Nikita walked into Michael's and he held them both.
"All better," Nikita murmured into Michael's shirt front, turning her head to look at her son.
Seeing that his mother was indeed "all-better", Christian nicked his pacifier and popped it back into his own mouth, resting in his parents' embrace.
The End.