First time posting: a purely-fluff piece following up on the Christmas episode. Let me know what you think.
Standard disclaimers apply: The characters do not belong to me.
"And the ears. Don't forget the ears!" Nell's words were still ringing through the deserted bullpen as Eric dashed into the locker room. Eric quickly stripped off his board shorts, grimaced, and put on the leggings.
"If those junior-high bullies saw me now," he thought. Glancing left, he saw Deeks' locker, and remembered the offer, made long ago: "If you need these, anytime, Buddy, you'll know where they are." Those were Marty's words. Eric had felt so strange, like the apprentice member of some "'bro'-therhood," when Deeks had shown him the condom stash.
Eric debated for a few seconds whether now was that time: whether to raid Marty's condom stash, just to be prepared. "No," he decided while he tried—and failed—putting on those crazy elf-ears. "I could jinx the relationship even before it starts if I get thinking like an average horn-dog. I want something different from tonight, something better, something more." Eric gathered his clothes into his bookbag and headed for the door.
A glance in the mirror beside the door brought him up short. "If she sees that, or if it grows, it could get really embarrassing. 'Boxers or briefs?' This afternoon, it's both: briefs to hold everything in place, and boxers to obscure the outline." After he added boxers, he checked in the mirror and felt safer.
"What took so long?" Nell asked when he emerged.
"Couldn't get these ears to work," he lied.
"Don't worry, I'll fix them in the car."
"One car? Okay. I'll drive," said Eric as they headed toward his Teal-blue Kia Soul.
"I've got a traveling music playlist on my phone," he added as he cleared off the passenger seat.
"Great, I've got the address in my phone."
"You need anything before we head off?"
"Just another kiss."
At the first stoplight, two seriously scary-looking bikers, who were probably actually software execs, pulled up beside them, caught a glimpse of the two elves, and broke into a cheerful laugh. Both saw the reaction, so Nell told Eric to pull over for a second. "We just made their day. Let's get these ears on you. Let's surprise other people, and it'll be even more fun." Nell took a minute to tease Eric about how his real ears seemed redder than the store-bought ones, but soon they were on their way again.
At first Eric was self-conscious about the ears, but before long, they were laughing together at the stares. After three bleach-blond California girls in a convertible broke into laughing waves, Eric asked, "So, what kind of music would the elves listen to on Christmas Eve?"
"Probably an Alvin and the Chipmunks Christmas album or something like that, but that would get on my nerves. Equally fun would be 'what kind of music would the elves be least likely to listen to?'"
"Try this one out. Switch over to the playlist labeled 'Classical Goth.'" Nell fiddled with the controls for a second while Eric, acting on a premonition, turned down the volume. Even so, when Bach's Toccata started up, he had to turn it down some more. "Talk about buzz-kill," he said on reflection, so Nell advanced to the next piece: Symphony Fantastique, then Danse Macabre, O Fortuna, and Night on Bald Mountain.
When the Toccata came back around, they finally gave up. "Yup, elves wouldn't listen to that, but what about you? What kind of mood would you have to be in to use a playlist like this?"
"I dunno! Ummm… Sometimes I get angry at the bad-guys we deal with every day. It seemed like a good idea at the time."
Rummaging through her bag, Nell offered, "Here, let's try this instead," and she swapped in her I-phone.
It was a Euro-techno-electronica-pop, and it worked just great. Pretty soon, they were waving like a pair of giggly elves at the back of a black limousine. Movie star, politico, athlete, godfather, whoever it was, they probably made their day. When they pulled up beside a police car, they even got the officer to do a spit take with his coffee.
The traffic was almost non-existent so they arrived at the South Central Children's Center in time to catch their breath, find the red jacket Nell had set aside for Eric, and for Eric to pull Nell under the mistletoe for a quick kiss.
It was a wonderful party. When the kids burst in, their eyes lit up at the sight of all the wrapped presents. A seven-year-old boy and his little sister followed Nell around and seemed to be just soaking up her aura of good cheer. Eric's shadows were a couple Hispanic nine-year-olds that he entertained with classic magic tricks, and then they played around with a mobius strip. As the kids took turns on Santa's lap, Eric's eyes were drawn, almost magnetically, to Nell. His cheeks almost hurt from smiling so long.
They were still in their costumes as they got back into Eric's car, and he still couldn't wipe the smile off his face, so on an impulse he offered, "Nell, let me thank you for getting me involved in that. Can I take you out for dinner?"
"Wow, yeah. I'd love it! Thanks."
"Do you know any good places you're in the mood for?"
"Well, when I saw this Thai place open up, I thought of you."
"Of me? Why?"
"I'm not real sure. I think you try to appear open to adventure, but this seemed about at your comfort limits."
"I've had Thai before! I liked it."
"'Ya wanna try Nepali instead? I know one of those, too."
"That's adventuresome. Either way."
"Let's stick with the Thai place, then," Nell declared.
"Maybe we can hit the Nepali place some other time."
It was only when they pulled into the parking lot that Eric realized they were still in costume. Nell gave him the choice: "Either we change in the car, or we just roll with it."
Eric dithered too. "We could take turns, and I've got some sun shades you could use if you like, but I say we just roll with it: maybe we'll make their day, just like those kids in the convertible."
All eyes were on them as the hostess led them to their table, so Nell conspiratorially told her, "The Big Man's on the road tonight. We figured we'd sneak out for some adventure and good food."
Without missing a beat, the hostess replied, "We're glad you came so far to join us. I hope your trip was good?"
"Yes, it reminded me how much we love the warmer climate," chimed in Eric.
As the meal progressed, they gradually came down from the high of seeing all those kids, and they relaxed into companionable conversation, sharing details of their background you just don't get into in an office.
When the meal finally ended, there was a note on the bill, "Tell Santa we've been good!" and Eric laughed so hard he had to share it with Nell, even if it was awkward when he had to put his thumb over the total. As they were walking out of the deserted restaurant, Eric was thinking about the logistics of reuniting Nell with her car, when Nell asked about his plans for Christmas day.
"I've got a few family recipes I was gonna make: mostly side dishes."
"Really? Me too! It seems like all the recipes are written for a dozen people, and there's just me."
"Why don't we get together at my place and make them together? That way we can each have some of each, and get more variety with less cooking each."
"That sounds fun. I'd love it."
"It also solves the problem of your car. I can drop you off tonight, then pick you up tomorrow morning when you'd like to get started."
"Here's an idea even better than that," Nell countered. "We can have a nightcap at my place, you could spend the night, and then we take my groceries over to your place in the morning."
It was Eric's turn for a double take, but he kept it hidden as best he could. "Nell… umm…our relationship has changed so much today, (and so much for the better,) …umm that I'd hate to mess it up by moving too fast. You're too special to me, romantically, as a friend, as a partner, and as a colleague, for me to want to do anything to risk any of that by getting physical too soon."
Eric had always been so cautious with her, so reserved, that Nell was taken aback by this outburst. Right in the parking lot, she threw her arms around him and they kissed even more wildly than they had under the mistletoe in the bullpen. It was like all the repressed feelings that had been building for years finally burst to the surface in one hug. "In the end, I agree with you, Eric. This is so nice I don't want to rush through it. Let's sit and talk, have a drink, but we won't do anything… um… like that."
As Nell swapped over to her Ella Fitzgerald playlist, she directed him to her apartment, which was surprisingly, suspiciously nearby. They were never out of contact: holding hands, his hand on her shoulder, or hers on his thigh. Eric parked in Nell's parking space and they held hands all the way up to her apartment. Once through the door, she slipped off her shoes so Eric followed suit.
There was a mirror by the door, so Eric used the chance finally to take off his silly ears. Nell stepped in front of him to do the same. After he finished, he took advantage of the chance and slipped his hands around her waist. When Nell set down her fake ears, she brought her hands up and held his in place. They saw the reflection in the mirror, and paused for more than a minute in contemplation of what they saw, a perfect picture of peaceful, happy lovers.
The apartment was airy and colorful with a sofa, entertainment center, efficient kitchen with a breakfast counter and an upright piano in one corner. ("You play?" he asked with an element of surprise in his voice. "Since second grade. You?" "Fourth through eighth grade, plus a clarinet I still work on sometimes.") Nell asked over her shoulder, "Would you grab a bottle of something from the liquor cabinet? It's by the door. Let me know what you decide, so I can get the right glasses."
Eric found the cabinet, and was taken aback by the variety: the Crème de Menthe and Calavos didn't surprise him, but the single-malt and the ouzo did. "This lady never stops surprising me," he thought to himself. He decided to suggest something not too expensive: "Kahluah okay?" he asked.
"How 'bout Grand Marnier instead?" she replied, almost as if she'd had that in mind from the start. She emerged from the kitchenette with matching snifters and a plate of freshly-washed strawberries, which she set on the coffee table. While Eric poured the drinks, Nell found a candle, lit it, and set it on the far corner of the coffee table. Then she adjusted the lights, slipped off her red elf jacket to reveal the white turtleneck underneath and settled onto the sofa, so close to Eric it reminded him of how fast the relationship had turned.
They continued their conversation from the restaurant, gradually revealing more and more of themselves: their backgrounds, their fears, their hopes. For Nell, getting to know Eric was like watching a flower open. For Eric, it was like peeling from Nell the layers of a plum: after you get through the impermeable outside, you get the sweet and happy insides, and at the core a firm, impenetrable, seed.
To break a lull in the conversation, Eric asked, "Do we need to make time for church for you tomorrow?"
"I'm not religious anymore. I was raised Lutheran but now, as my family describes it, I've 'fallen out the back door of the church.' How 'bout for you?"
"Pretty much the same. The closest I come to a religious experience these days is at the Church of the Southern Swells." As Nell's expression drifted from confusion toward almost a scowl, Eric quickly explained. "I've a surfer buddy who uses that term for surfing on a Sunday morning, and I guess I can see his point. It's peaceful and contemplative, and when you think about the fact that the waves you're catching started in Alaska, Korea, or in the best cases Australia, you end up feeling part of an enormous, interconnected world."
"That's so much nicer than what I thought. I thought your metaphor was…umm …anatomical."
"Nope, not me. I'm not one for talking about sex that way. It makes it less special."
"Sometime. Sometime soon. We'll keep it special." And she pulled him to his feet with a long and comfortable kiss. "The curtains are drawn. I'll let you know when it's your turn in the bathroom." Eric rummaged through his bookbag, debating what to wear. In the end he put back on the board shorts and added a tee shirt from an obscure band he'd been following a few years ago.
As Eric took the glasses to the kitchen counter and blew out the candle, Nell emerged wearing an orange nightshirt with some geeky humor on the front. It was just barely long enough, so Eric could see hints of pink underpants underneath. "I got out a spare toothbrush for you, but we'll have to get you out of that tee shirt," and she hooked her hands under the bottom seam and tried to pull it up. Towering over her, Eric completed the task while she ran her hands over his chest.
A few minutes later, Nell pulled Eric into bed, his mind still reeling from how dramatically things had changed. They snuggled face-to-face, side-by-side for a while before Eric rolled onto his back and Nell followed, her shoulders diagonal across his chest. Gradually, their kisses subsided and Eric just held her, feeling her naked leg, smooth and supple against his, feeling her ribcage expand and contract with her peaceful breathing; and as Nell slept Eric listened to her heartbeat and contemplated the one layer of fabric separating her breast from his naked chest.
Gradually, Eric's mind turned more contemplative. Even two glasses of Grand Marnier had not been able to settle his mind so he cataloged what had gone right today, and how even when things had gone wrong, she magically made them right—or perhaps being with her had made things right. Would this luck last? Tomorrow was the better part of a day with her, filled with perils. Navigate them well, and it would be a full day, and another night. One false step, and it all blows up: kiss the r-word goodbye, and the friendship, and the partnership, and the happy give-and-take in the ops center. The problem was how he could do any last minute cleaning while she placed a Christmas call to her family. The best option would be to arrange things so she spoke from his place, preferably on the deck. (Two-hour time difference to Minnesota, right?) He finally drifted off as his mind digested these considerations.
Morning light drifted through the window as Eric came to and put his glasses on. The recognition of his unfamiliar surroundings jolted through his mind like heat lightening. Nell lay on her back, her face turned up toward him, one last hand resting against the side of his thigh. A glimpse at her hand told him the first problem he had to address. He gently extracted himself from her touch and then her bed so he could quietly slip to the kitchen. He grabbed a paper towel and filled a glass with ice water, and he crept through the bedroom to the bathroom. Door closed, he dropped his shorts, wet the paper towel, and braced himself thinking "any means necessary." He emerged from the bathroom shivering, but at least settled down.
Now he could turn to the rest of the preparation: Poured up some O.J., found the bread, butter, and jam for some toast, (even found the toaster) and set up the water and filter for the coffee. He loaded the grinder with beans, and just had to wait for her to wake. Once he re-brushed his teeth, he glimpsed her peaceful sleepy face from the bathroom door, and couldn't imagine being the one to disturb her slumber, but in fact that's what he was. His weight as he sat back on his side of the bed was enough to disturb her, and she roused with a smile.
"First kiss of the morning. I like it."
As Nell combed her wet hair at the mirror and Eric brought in more coffee, he volunteered, "You know, we're going to get calls from our families today. We'll need to decide what to tell them about 'us.'"
"We shouldn't have to tell them anything. There's nothing unusual about spending Christmas with a friend." There was a hint of sassiness in her voice.
"Still, I bet my family is going to start jumping to conclusions: putting two and two together and getting six."
"Even if they decide I'm your girlfriend, what's wrong with that?"
"I mean… I don't want them to think that we're sleeping together." Nell turned to the rumpled sheets, and raised an eyebrow in a smirk. "I mean… I mean…."
"Eric, I know that on Christmas day, of all days, my family won't get bent out of shape about our sex life, and I trust your family not to either."
"Our sex life." He silently repeated her phrase. While that was still processing in his groggy brain, Nell went to the kitchen and took command of the logistics for the cooking.
"Let's see, I was planning on cranberry salad, green bean casserole, and a chocolate torte from a recipe Hetty extracted from Hungary. What were you planning? And, oh, do you have a springform pan?"
"If you've got a springform pan we'll need it. Have you ever met a bachelor with a springform pan? I was planning on wild rice stuffing, green bean casserole, and I found some great-looking chanterelles, so I was thinking about brie and mushrooms en croute. Why don't you leave the ingredients for your green bean casserole here? We can use mine."
"Brie en croute sounds like a lot of work, Eric. Do you have eggs? We could use the mushrooms in a quiche instead. That way we can call quiche the main course and have the Brie with these crackers as we cook."
"Okay, but we may have to keep it a secret about the quiche. Deeks would never let me hear the end of it, what with 'real men don't eat quiche.' And if Hanna got on my case, I'd be a goner."
"Don't let them bother you. What's important is that I know you're a real man. I felt it against me last night."
"I'm sorry, I'm so embarrassed."
"Don't be: either it's simple anatomy or it's oddly flattering." And she came into his arms with a smile and gave him a kiss. Even when things go wrong, she magically makes them right. "And speaking of secrets, we probably ought to keep this secret from Deeks and Hanna, too."
"What, green bean casserole?" he smirked.
"No, goofball! This." And she pulled his hand from her shoulder down to her breast, holding it there long enough for Eric to overcome the shock and start to massage through her blouse.
Nell had her backpack in one hand and some groceries in the other as they loaded his car. They had a wonderful day cooking together, laughing, jostling, kissing. While he was on the phone with his family, Nell found his clarinet and sheet music, but by the time he was done, she was fiddling with her cell phone, so he thought nothing more of it: and what's to hide about some Mozart or a Kenny G. transcription anyway. Eric got the chance to change his sheets while Nell was on the phone with her family. He was just digging out a second set of towels when she hung up. (Prepare for the worst and pray for the best, Eric, but prepare for the best, too.) And that afternoon, when Nell accepted a second glass of cabernet franc, he knew:
"We'll have to think about reuniting you with your car."
"Oh, you mean Minnie?"
"You named your car? That's so…you! But yeah. I was hoping you'd spend the night here, and I could just give you a ride to the mission tomorrow."
"I'd like that. But we'll have to think about how we enter. It's part of the bigger issue of what to do about work and 'us.'"
"If I remember orientation, there are rules against dating a supervisor, but I'm not your supervisor, and you're not mine, so that's not a problem. …Dating a co-worker is always a problem," he saw a frown cross her lips, "but we'll make it work. What's important is that we not let the 'us' mess up an op: strict professionalism."
"Okay, and what will we tell the team? Though Kensi will probably be okay with us, the ribbing we'll get from Deeks and Hanna will never stop. I think we shouldn't say anything."
"Maybe a few diversionary tactics to postpone the time when it comes out?"
"I guess that's best, but of course 'strict professionalism' means no more kisses at the mission."
"The good news is it'll make me look forward to those away from work all the more."
"What, like this?"
"Oh, yeah…"
I'm a little worried about the pacing: like the plot will move in fits and starts, and the dialog: Is it a problem that they're sometimes carrying on two conversations at once? Also, music suggestions would have helped.