Six months Post Battle of New York
Felix Blake smiled when his fiancée sat down at the breakfast table. He was so goddamn lucky that Nikki had stayed, after the Battle of New York. She was still wearing her engagement ring, though he had offered to break their engagement. After all, Nikki was an absolutely amazing woman, who really shouldn't be hogtied to a compulsive, PTSD suffering Felix Blake.
Yet, she had stayed.
He heard the obviously meant-to-be-overheard comments him at the job. The jeering commentaries that he was mentally unbalanced and not fit for work. What with his obsessive compulsive disorder flaring, as everything had to be triple-quadruple checked as now, more than ever, sloppiness could not be accepted. And yes, Clare the bane of his existence, she of the inability to make coffee, who typed three words per minute, and who left work early on a weekly basis that meant punctuation was REQUIRED.
However, his job (and Nikki, dear sweet Nikki) had been what had gotten him back on his feet.
He was so goddamn lucky. He reminded himself of that repeatedly, obsessively even.
She… understood … when he retreated back to the safety of their apartment. That once regular dinner outs at the various Coulson endorsed restaurants were curtailed. Because how could he risk taking her to a building that might collapse? For her to experience the over whelming terror of being trapped under wrecked for two days? Knowing that the one beam snapping, one miniscule shift of the building's weight and it would come crashing down on her?
And when he endured one of his panic attacks, when he stumbled and stuttered over his words, while his heart raced and he felt as though he was back under the rubble, she … stayed.
He reached for her hand and he couldn't help but admire how the engagement ring sparkled in the early morning light. The magnificence of the ring didn't come close to her beauty, however. She was Italian, dark, exotic and fiery.
"Nikki, tonight… can we… make love?" He stuttered and tripped over his words, but he watched her face for her reaction. "I… I… miss you."
They hadn't shared a bed since he had come home from the hospital. Then he had been wearing assorted external fixators and pins to fix his shattered legs and hips. While he had worn them, she had slept in a guest room because he had been scared of something happening when he slept. Not just fearing that she might accidentally jar the fixators (which hurt), but the nightmares, vicious nightmares, where he was trapped underneath the rubble and no one knew he was there and he was gonna die there when the rubble shifted and… where he woke up screaming and weeping in abject terror.
Tonight wasn't about lovemaking, it was, but it wasn't. It was Felix who felt strong enough, emotionally, to recommit to their relationship. She had stood by him during the worst days of his life, and… he wanted her to know that he was back.
Let the wedding plans proceed, let the babymaking attempts begin with all due haste after the wedding…. Because Felix Blake wanted Nicolette Amatore to be his partner in his life, now and forever. And if they had a boy, Felix hoped that Nikki would agree to name him after her father because Giovanni Amatore was the only experience Felix X. Blake had of a positive paternal figure.
She looked at him, and her eyes softened. She even squeezed his hand, which had to mean, "YES".
Felix Blake took her hand and kissed it. Dear God, he was so fucking lucky.
Hopefully, if he had enough time today, he'd take Winston, his PTSD service dog, on a trip to Tiffany's. He'd pick up something sparkly for Nikki in order to celebrate their new beginning.
She deserved it and so much more. Since he couldn't give voice to his love and deep appreciation, not with his overclocked mind spinning like a top, leaving him mute and tongue tied, hopefully she understood how much he loved her.
"Hey, Zombie," Blake greeted Coulson in the stairway. He didn't do elevators, not unless he had no other options. He claimed it was so he could rebuild the strength in his legs, but the truth was he couldn't handle the sheer physical closeness of an elevator.
"Metal man," Coulson retorted.
Since it was only the two of them they could be friendly, not the act they put on in front of the others.
"Can you recommend a good bottle of champagne?" Felix asked Phil. "Nikki and I…. I want it to be romantic. Has to be… be perfect… and I don't know champagne. Phil, it has to be perfect because… because….."
He was twitching something horrible, so he grabbed his left wrist with his right hand.
Phil Coulson smiled, not at Felix and his twitches, but at old fond memories, as he was a romantic.
"Aud and I found picnic dinners to be very romantic and sensual. I'll call my grocer, see if he could set you up with a picnic basket."
Trust Coulson to have a grocer on standby even with the infrastructure still recovering from the disastrous Chitauri invasion.
"Champagne?" Felix repeated. "Don't worry… if it's expensive. I can pay."
"Yes. I'll throw something in for Winston, as he's a good boy and deserves a treat."
Winston, newly adopted PTSD therapy dog, was big salt n' pepper Giant Schnauzer who was still accustoming himself to his new pet's odd littermates. He adored his new pet, Felix, who required a great deal of comfort and affection because he was a puppy who had been badly hurt. Phil, Winston enjoyed also, as Phil knew how to tell when Winston was 'On Duty' and when he was 'Off Duty' which some people couldn't grasp. John Garrett, Winston was still debating over as he seemed to be trouble incarnate, which was problematic to his role of keeping Felix safe… but the female… she was almost cat like. He and the female weren't getting along as WINSTON was Felix's Best Friend, not her. She seemed to think that she was, so the two of them battled, but quietly, for Felix's attention.
And the less said about the female that his Pet endured at the strange place called, 'THE OFFICE' the better. If Winston wasn't a serious therapy dog, he'd like to leave her a present in her chair, as she delighted in upsetting his pet.
"It has to be perfect." Felix knew he was repeating himself, but yet he continued. "It's our first time since I got hurt. Needs to be… romantic."
His pet was beginning to shake and stress, so Winston sprang into action. He nudged Felix' hand which caused his pet to focus on Winston. For added cuteness, he waved his little docked tail.
He was rewarded with several head scratches and a calmer pet, so he had done his job. Winston Leonard Spencer-Churchill Blake was very serious about being the best therapy dog he could be for his new best friend.
His new best friend was nervous, but a happy, excited, nervous which as a state of emotion was somewhat confusing to Winston. He stayed close to Felix because if something happened, he had to be there. He so thoroughly focused on Felix that he ignored the female in the Office, even though she repeatedly sneezed, rubbed her eyes and cast aspersions on his (documented) hypo-allergic nature.
"Winston, tonight your mom and I are gonna reconnect," his pet informed him. "She's everything to me."
Winston pouted and his pet leaned towards him, "Stop pouting, you're everything to me, also. You keep me functioning, but Dad needs some private time with your mom."
Winston forgave his pet, as he was a very magnanimous dog.
Nicolette felt the bars of a jail cell closing in on her. She loved Felix, the old Felix, but the new Felix, with his obscene dependency on John and Phil…. His terrors… justifiable…. Completely… that ruled his life now…. And he was insisting on shutting her out…. And letting John and Phil in…. and he wanted to make love, and God knew she missed him and their physical relationship…. But she couldn't handle the new norm – where John and Phil were so heavily involved in Felix…. And her life… and the dog… the dog that didn't like her, that seemed determine to push his way in as the number one person in Felix's life…. She was exhausted of trying to fight her way back into Felix's life.
She tried to be there for him, to accept the new norm, but he was almost completely mute these days.
He had offered to break their engagement, to set her free… and she had refused because she loved him.
But he was back to being the old Felix. Chary of revealing too much of himself, fearful of abandonment (And GOD, what she would do to him when she left… and oh God, she was finally admitting that she was leaving him, not taking a breather, but leaving.) It had taken her years… YEARS…. For her to break through the walls, for the first soft and shyly spoken, 'I love you'….
God, they had been together for five years. If she had her way, they'd be working on their second baby by now… But no… Felix had been Felix… slow… considerate…. generous…
She was thirty eight years old and she had a bad case of baby fever, but… their relationship such as it was… If she was pregnant, she'd need to be first in Felix's life, his partner… not someone that he felt he must protect, someone that he couldn't confide his issues.
So she took the cowards' way out and left.
He was almost giddy by the time he left the office. Freshly shaved, wearing the cologne she liked and… so looking forward…. Phil had outdone himself, as there were flowers, glorious long stem roses… eleven… not a dozen ... which meant that he truly and deep loved Nikki and… the picnic basket… with the chilled champagne.
He was stimming, hard, legs and hands shaking so he sat in his Jeep until he ceased. Now, of all times, he couldn't be Flakey Blakey.
He took the elevator… ELEVATOR… and he stood in front of his apartment door.
On one side, normalcy. A woman that loved him…. And… it took several times for him to place his key in the lock, because he was trembling that hard… because… because… he was about to recommit himself to the woman that he loved more than life itself.
He opened the door to his apartment (FINALLY), anticipated that Nikki would be waiting for him, happy and eager ….
When he realized the horrible, horrible truth, his world imploded.
Winston, Service Dog Extraordinaire, bolted down the hallway. He needed to find his pets' friends or someone…. Because his pet was not well. He had collapsed on the floor and was making soft mewling noises like an injured puppy. Even Winston licking his pet hadn't stopped his pet's full body shaking. He was rather new as a Therapy Dog, and he thought …. Phil…. Phil would know what to do.
The moving spot opened and he managed to get inside of it. He'd watch the door open, and when there was a red couch, he would exit as that was where his pet's littermates were.
However, there was a slight problem as he was the only one in the moving spot and he was not moving. What did his pet do when he entered?
He marked the wall as it lit up. So Winston poked at the various items until they were lit. There was also a ringing noise, but he ignored it.
After two stops, he saw the red couch and made his escape, loudly barking as he raced as fast as he could to his pets' littermates. He stopped in front of their door and barked. Loudly. He even scratched at the door until one of them opened the door.
"Winston?" Phil asked. Fortunately, it was Phil as he was far smarter than the other one.
"Where's Blake?" John asked.
"I don't see him," Phil admitted. "Hey!"
Winston had just enough of their stupidity, as he was being quite clear in his demands for them to follow him. Their idiocy called for drastic action, so he grabbed Phil's pant legs and began to pull. Dear Dog, help him! He was reduced to tearing clothes!
"Winston? Is Blake down the well?" asked John.
"Something must be wrong," Phil informed John, who was rummaging through his kit for supplies. "What are you bringing?"
"A tranq dart," John explained. "Just in case."