AN: This started out as a drabble from a dialogue prompt by pillar-of-salt but it sort of grew out, and eventually turned out completely different than I expected. Anyway, have some holiday spirit with Nadine and Mike working out an aspect of their relationship. Reviews are greatly appreciated!
Mike's already home when she gets to his place late at night. Nadine brushes snow off her hair and shoulders and sets to hanging her coat to dry when he walks up to greet her with a kiss.
"Finally", he exclaims, using the hand he's wrapped around her middle to tug her towards the kitchen. "I was worried I'd have to be on guard for breaking-and-entering grandpas all by myself tonight."
"You're off by a day", Nadine comments, unable to suppress her smile. "I told the Secretary I'd run by the office tomorrow morning so she won't have to but aside from that–"
"Barring an international crisis."
"–I'm all yours", she finishes, fixing him with a look that states his quip wasn't appreciated. He's already grinning sheepishly, though; no doubt surprised she's in such a playful mood.
"And for the record, I wasn't planning on spending the night by the fireplace clutching a baseball bat."
Mike glances at her, trying to decide which way to steer the conversation. "It's okay. I'm sure we can come up with something else to occupy ourselves with", he says, his low tone making sure Nadine doesn't miss the innuendo but leaving pursuing it up to her. He's getting kind of a weird aura from her; she looks to be in much better spirits than usually after as long a day as this one, but something still seems off.
She presses her lips together, leaving the matter alone for the time being.
"Are you hungry?" he offers, gesturing to the spaghetti still in the pot on the stove. She is, he knows she is. It has to be six or seven hours since lunch, if she ate even then. She'd texted him in the afternoon to let him know she'd be later than she'd thought; there had been much to wrap up at State before everyone would leave for the holidays.
He's making her a plate before she has nodded. "You cooked. Again", Nadine notes as she seats herself to the table, taking a sip from the wine glass he's set to wait for her. It's sweet, as is the gesture.
"You have to eat every day, you know", Mike teases. He reaches to place the food in front of her and sits down, giving a little shrug. "Besides, it's good practice for tomorrow and the day after."
He doesn't miss her fork pausing in midair even though Nadine brushes it off, quickly composing herself. He gives her a quizzical look but doesn't press further when she continues to eat in silence, avoiding his eyes. Mike gets up to pour himself some more wine.
"What's going on?" he blurts. He was planning to leave her alone but something's obviously bothering her. If it were something really serious, she'd be avoiding him altogether. For anything work related she would use him as an inspiration or a distraction. She's doing neither, though, so it has to be something personal, something she'd rather ignore, and he wants to know if he can do anything to help.
Nadine starts at his voice and turns around. Mike's relieved she's at least willing to look at him again but it makes him feel like a coward to have spoken to the back of her head. He didn't know if he did it to make the conversation easier for him or her; it seems he's gotten his answer.
"What do you mean?"
"Come on, Nadine, it's been like this for almost a week now. Every time I talk about Christmas, you flinch. What is it?" His voice is tender as he sits back down, carefully reaching for her hand. "It has to be more than just stress over running late on your shopping."
Mike cocks a smirk and Nadine smiles back at him. "It's not that. It hasn't been that for quite some time, actually."
He gives her a look that clearly begs her to elaborate.
"Look, Mike, I've spent the last decade's worth of Christmas holidays alone," she admits with an exasperated sigh. "We haven't really discussed it but you seem to want to have me here this year, and I'm not… a holiday person."
"What do you mean by that?" he frowns, making her hesitate. She knows he genuinely wants to understand her. She's just not sure he can understand.
"You know I'm Jewish, right?"
"I know."
Mike's easy tone makes Nadine smile. Maybe she's not too far off in hoping he could relate. After all, he is modern, worldly, not religious, and doesn't really have any family obligations; he's much in the same situation she is. Nadine can understand why he might expect her to have reached the same conclusion. It would only make sense for them to spend the holidays together.
She would like to spend the holidays with him.
In hopes of delaying the conversation by even mere seconds, she looks around his apartment. Gordon is sleeping peacefully on his pillow, a teddy bear leaking its stuffing under his head. There aren't any cotton balls on the floor, though. Mike must have cleaned, knowing she would come over that night seeing as his place is pristine tidy, not a single shirt or a sock out of place. Furthermore, there isn't a single thing that could relate to Christmas. Not that she had pegged him as a fairy lights person, but he hasn't even gotten a tree. And then, her eyes catch on a candelabrum.
"You have a Hanukkah menorah?"
Mike glances briefly at the candles before meeting her gaze. He looks nervous. "Yeah. I wasn't sure what you usually do but since they overlap this year I thought that, you know, just in case."
"Thank you", she breathes. Lighting the candles is pretty much how far her Hanukkahs go in terms of tradition but it's something she loves. Touched by his thoughtfulness, she's momentarily dazed enough to voice those thoughts.
Mike's visibly relieved. "So, what do you usually do then?" he asks.
Nadine bites her lip. Why does she feel so ashamed to tell him?
Because years of being a single mother, and then just single, have taught her that the holiday season is the one time of the year people she works with forget they're intimidated by her, and start pitying her instead. As if going home to her own quiet apartment instead of to a distant relative's farmhouse filled with toddlers chasing after pets, inebriated uncles arguing over sports, and the smell of burning turkey was the tragedy of the century.
She keeps her voice purposefully even, eyes darting between her hands and his face; caught between wanting to hide and daring him to challenge her as she answers. "I go to a show or meet someone for a dinner. Stay at home reading, sometimes working."
She's prepared for the usual shocked look or the condolatory words but he offers her neither. On the contrary, Mike flashes her a grin, and she feels bad for doubting him. "Sounds good to me. Except for the working part. That I won't allow this year."
She chuckles, and Mike takes delight in the way her eyes regain the glint he managed to lure out earlier in the hallway.
He yearns to lean in and kiss her but he restrains himself. It's so rare when she opens up to him and he desperately wants to hear everything she has to say, even if it means dampening the mood. He'll have to make it up to her later. "See, everything's fine. Why does this bother you so much?"
She shakes her head. "I don't know, Mike. I guess I'm just tired", she sighs, growing more aggravated the more she mulls it over. "Tired of explaining myself to people who don't matter. Tired of having to justify my religion to everyone else, and tired of having to defend my unconventional way of celebrating to others." In an effort to distract him from her personal, candid confessions, she adds: "And dodging calls from my sister inviting me over for the holidays."
Mike's nothing if not attentive and considerate when it comes to her, so he doesn't comment on people's idiocy and rudeness but takes the bate and asks Nadine about her sister.
"I don't have time. I'm always back in the office by the 26th", she exclaims in response as to why she doesn't take her sister up on her offer. "And in all honesty, her husband is kind of dry", Nadine lets slip, holding her glass out for more wine. Mike's all too happy to oblige, now that she's eaten at least.
"He has eye for art, though, and a knack for DIY. I receive a beautiful card every year."
From the way she draws out the adjective, Mike can tell she absolutely loves those cards, so he holds back his snicker even though the idea of Nadine Tolliver swooning over a cardboard piece with glitter glue and a button on it is hilarious. It's in character for her private persona, though, more so than people ever realize.
"Good to know you get so excited over cards. In case one year I forget to buy you an actual present."
"That's not necessary, Mike", Nadine tells him with a smile and a shake of her head. "I haven't gotten presents since…" Since Roman moved out. She doesn't finish the sentence, focusing on pushing the melancholy thoughts out of her mind. They're better now. He actually called her the day before.
Mike interprets her silence wrong. "Wait, no one's gotten you anything?" he asks. "For years?"
His incredulity makes her hesitate. "No", she says, her voice light but her brow knitting; she doesn't understand where he's going with it. Gifts are quite meaningless, anyway. If she wants something, she can buy it herself.
She isn't feigning the indifference, Mike realizes, horrified. "Wow. Marsh was even bigger a bastard than I thought."
Nadine shoots him a glare but it's halfhearted; she can't really argue about that.
"He was", he states again for good measure, but it's neither here nor there, so he stops and takes a deep breath before he ventures too far from his original point. "Not because he didn't shower you with gifs – not that you don't deserve it – but because…" he reaches for her hand again and gives it a firm squeeze. "Nadine, darling, Christmas is about bringing light to the darkness and being with your loved ones, and what I've gathered from general knowledge and Wikipedia, that's what Hanukkah is about, too. To neglect you on a such an important holiday is incredibly disrespectful."
She blinks at Mike's uncharacteristic spirituality. "Huh." Vincent had always reserved Christmas solely for his wife, clearing his conscience for cheating on her throughout the year. Nadine had stayed in the office, making sure he gained the planned publicity from his flamboyant holiday stunts. She clears her throat. "So you don't mind not doing any traditional Christmas things?"
He gives her a lopsided smirk. "That's what I've been trying to make you understand, sweetheart. Not being big on traditions, whatever they may be, doesn't make one a 'non-holiday person', nor a bad person. I refuse to be branded like that – especially when there are many more things I do that people could rather use to classify me as a bad person."
Nadine can't help laughing at him.
"So I say we screw the traditions. We'll do whatever you want." Mike decides the heavy part of the evening is done, leaning over to finally capture her lips like he's wanted to for what seems like an eternity. Hovering inches away from her face, he stills, grinning. "Although I insist we eat here. Gordon's been waiting for his turkey leg, and I have this Korean dish I've been waiting to cook for you."
"You have yourself a deal." Nadine closes the gap, letting herself embrace all the possibilities spending the holidays with Mike will offer. Maybe he'd be interested in going to a movie; she hasn't done that in years. She could persuade him to stay at home, too, all day; the thought is tempting to say the least.
First things first, though. "Music", she murmurs between kisses. "I do like carols."
"Then I'll turn on the radio first thing tomorrow", he promises.
She pauses for air, raising an eyebrow at him.
"I had something else in mind for tonight", Mike clarifies, pulling her up with him.
It's easy to forget any and all insecurities when he's looking at her like that. His thumbs trail against the side of her thighs, his hot breath ghosting over her breasts. The sensations reduce her to whimpers but once Mike coaxes her, asking her to guide him, she finds her voice again. Relishing in the way she comes undone, he serves as the perfect reminder. She's entitled to her own ideals and ideas, no matter how unorthodox at times; hell, being resourceful is basically what she does for a living. Knowing she's not in the mood, Mike foregoes any games, giving her exactly what she wants, leaving her boneless and melting against the mattress.
"You do realize this will never constitute as a holiday tradition?" Nadine murmurs some time later, only half-joking. She's lying on her back with her hand under her head, waiting for sleep to overtake her.
"It'll just have to be our tradition, then", he counters, turning to face her in the darkness.
"Mike, I have to get up in five hours", she warns.
He presses a chaste kiss on her lips. "Fine. You go straighten out the world and we'll cross our fingers it won't blow up in the 36 hours that follow, 'cause starting from tomorrow evening you're mine", he whispers. "Just you and me. It'll be like any other day, except that in the morning I'll gift you with all the partridges and pear trees I can find." He pauses. "That's all right, right?"
She laughs. "Yes, it's all right." Thank you for understanding. And she kisses him again.