More than a Coat
Word Count: 456
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Nico/Dani (can be considered just friendship, though)
Spoilers: up to 1x05, though most specifically from 1x03.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I just break things.
Summary: It's a lot more than a coat.
Author's Note: This came to me while I was driving home this morning. So let's blame lack of sleep. :P
More than a Coat
It never paid to wear white.
Inevitably, something always spilled on it.
Of course, most of the time it was a small but inconvenient dot of something from a meal, a drink or a bit of sauce from whatever entree she might have chosen, not the vivid blue that made up one of the Hawks' signature colors. It also wasn't something that happened less than ten minutes before she was supposed to meet with the eccentric media mogul that own networks and football teams and race cars, the Marshall Pittman.
This was not at all the impression she wanted to make. True, she'd managed to get enough of the paint off her face to where she no longer looked like a smurf, but her clothes were splattered with blue paint. She had no way to fix this, and as she understood it, this meeting was not a request.
She glanced behind her in the mirror and stopped to look longingly at the stall. She could lock herself away and hide there, couldn't she? Yeah, she could. She wouldn't have a job then, a reputation, a house, or her children. She needed this job. It was the only thing keeping her afloat financially. The divorce had ruined her economic stability, and she couldn't afford to go back to her former practice. She needed this if she was going to make enough money to keep the house and the kids.
She leaned over the sink again, tempted to splash water over her face. She wasn't sure why. Her face was already wet. She figured it was something to do with the ritual of it. It was a soothing one, most of the time. Cleansing.
Something touched her back, and she almost screamed, her eyes flying up to see Nico behind her in the mirror. Her mouth dropped open a little. "Uh... Does the sign on the door mean nothing to you? This is the women's bathroom."
He shrugged a little, backing away. She reached up, feeling behind her. He'd put something dark on her shoulders, and it actually took her a minute before she realized that it was his coat, the long one he always seemed to wear.
"It'll be a bit big, but it should cover all of the paint," he explained, and she nodded a bit numbly. He turned to leave.
"Thank you!" she called out to him with relief. Words could not express her gratitude
He shrugged again. "It's just a coat."
She slipped it off her shoulders and over her arms. Yeah, it was more than a little big. It was also a lot more than just a coat, she thought with a smile, running her hand over the collar.