A/N: I do not own The Cal Leandros novels. They belong to Rob Thurman. All kudos to her.
A note: this is not a schedule set in stone, by any means. The muse informs me this is just an idea of how the household runs...plus or minus more grocery runs, monster attacks, and supernatural jobs.
1. Niko's week usually began at six AM sharp on a Monday morning. Cal didn't work in the bar Sundays, so either they ran a job or they spent time together, training or the like. This last night, however, they stayed in and watched 'Gladitor' because every once in a while a movie-night was acceptable, though Niko ate sunflower seeds and a few pieces of Cal's popcorn, thrown his way for making comments on the historical inaccuracies. Cal just wanted to watch people get hacked into pieces in peace, thus the popcorn shower.
Six AM was light in the winter, and Niko sat on the relative warmth of his bed and meditated. It was a peaceful way to start the day, quiet in the apartment reigning. It was warm in their apartment, despite the way it ran up the bills, because Cal hated being cold. Rather than fight the thermostat wars, Niko conceded the field of battle.
After meditation was a little physical activity, cramped in their new loft apartment, but Niko could still get in a decent workout. His usual solo routine involved stringing together moves from every single martial-arts style he knew into a long running pattern, without repeating an attack or move in a specific time period. It was good practise, kept him limber and able to adapt and change his fighting style to the fight, instead of relying on a few key moves of a single style.
Breakfast at seven with Cal, morning news and forecast over breakfast (either by TV or paper), shower, and on Mondays and Wednesdays these days Niko went to the local university of the borough and worked as a TA in English Literature. (He'd tried for History, but no openings.) He jogged the distance, because it was only a few miles, and depending on how he timed it he could make it in a single long shot without having to stop for traffic.
Lunch-time and Niko called home, ensuring Cal was at least semi-conscious and things were fine. He worked through lunch, came home an hour early, and dragged Cal out for a run. Cal disliked running immensely, but keeping in shape was important. He was doing better these days; his endurance and stamina were improving. Niko let Cal languish for nearly two hours after the run; then they sparred until it was time for dinner and they'd broken yet another coffee-table and one hideous green lamp Niko had picked up at a garage sale.
Monday-night dinner was always eaten together, either at home or at a fiercely-debated restaurant; afterwards Cal went to the bar to work, and Niko went to Promise's. They visited, talked business, art, and love, and Niko was home and in his own bed before midnight.
2. Tuesdays Niko's day started at 5 AM sharp, though the morning routine was much the same. Tuesdays, however, Niko worked afternoons at a local dojo as an assistant instructor, though the current dojo master was desperately trying to graduate him to full instructor and possibly partner in business. Niko was having none of it. He worked Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday afternoons, and no more.
On Tuesday mornings, breakfast was at six and Cal - who had generally dragged home by then - ate half-asleep over whatever Niko had fixed and stumbled off to bed. Niko would spend his time until lunch cleaning the house and getting the laundry sorted for Cal to take on Wednesday to the coin-laundromat down the street. Cal would forget to pry his socks out from under the couch, look behind the toilet for his underwear, and retrieve his shirt from over the doorknobs. Thus it fell to Niko to properly corral all loose laundry of the Cal-type, lest it miss the washing-trip and ferment in its hiding places. After lunch, Niko went to the dojo, taking the subway for only part of the way and jogging the rest.
This week, he did not eat Tuesday dinner with Cal, but spent the evening with Promise, dinner complete with a little wine and a lot of loving. He did not stay the night, however, and went home making a detour to the bar to check on Cal, though he didn't go in. Just looked. Tuesday nights, Cal did not close up, and therefore was home and in bed by four.
3. Wednesday, 5 AM sharp. Niko went for a run instead of staying inside; a cold front was moving in and it would snow after that. Better to be outdoors before it snowed rather than after. He ate breakfast alone, and went to the university. He graded papers, researched selkies in the university library, and came home for lunch. He chivvied Cal out of bed, and they ate lunch together before Niko hustled them both out the door; he to the university again and Cal off to the laundromat. Cal went grumbling but knew his job.
Niko grocery-shopped on Wednesday, came home and put them away, and for once found Cal cleaning his guns. It was a nice try for evasion, but they went out to the park before dinner and sparred. Dinner was take-out and Niko walked Cal down to the bar. Cal was closing tonight, and after leaving Cal at the bar Niko went to Promise's.
He stayed the night.
4. Thursday, 4 AM sharp, and Niko was home by five. His morning routine commenced, and Cal came in by five-thirty, sporting a garish bruise on his forearm and a split lip. With more animation than was usual for the hour, Cal described the tremendous barfight, swore at his cereal every time he bumped his lip with his spoon, and staggered off to bed again.
Niko left early, did some training in the park, and followed up on some potential clients Promise had mentioned. He got back before lunch, examined the weather forecast, and got a heavier coat before he went out again to the dojo.
It was snowing when he was leaving the dojo, and Cal came by to walk him home, hunched into his coat and grumbling fiercely at the cold. Niko relented and they rode the subway, picked up pizza for dinner, and meditated before it was time for Cal to go to the bar. Cal went alone, and Niko stayed home. He got in some reading on his favorite Greek mythology book, and went to bed early.
5. Friday morning, 5 AM. Niko's morning routine was altered only slightly by the pixie that had taken refuge on their balcony from the snow; the fragile body was easily disposed of, and Niko spent the morning cleaning and oiling many of his swords. Cal came home at six, ate, and went to bed, but only after demonstrating his bruised arm was no longer swollen and his lip was healing up. Niko cleaned most of his blades and practised throwing knives at the remains of the coffee-table.
Niko met Promise for lunch, before he went to the dojo; the crowd at the dojo was slim and they closed early, because of the increased snow and storm. Niko used the time to investigate a lead for a client, fought off five hungry, cold, and subsequently angry revenants, and came home again. He and Cal sparred while it hailed outside, put two new holes in the drywall, and seriously bent the paper-towel-rack from the kitchen out of shape. It was clearly not meant to be used as an impromptu projectile.
Cal didn't have to go in until late, so they went out to the park and did a little hunting. The night's pickings were slim, mostly because of the weather, and Cal arrived at the bar grumpier than usual. Niko sat in the corner and had a cup of tea, mostly so he could wait until his toes warmed up again before braving the snow outside. Steel-toed boots were well and fine for protection against blows. Not so much for cold weather.
Niko went home alone and went to bed.
6. Saturday morning, 5 AM sharp. The usual morning routine, with more martial arts and less meditating, because it was chilly and moving made him warmer. Freezing temperatures all day was the forecast. Cal came home at six in a ridiculously foul mood because of the cold, but defrosted a little over the hot coffee Niko had waiting for him. He went almost right to bed.
Niko made a few phone-calls, made an appointment with a client who needed a certain family heirloom tracked down, and cleaned out the fridge. All leftovers - gone! With the apartment so secured from the dangers of radioactive spoiled takeout, Niko went out for a run. It was necessarily a short run; the snow-plows were still making their rounds. Niko went back home, broke out the tea and his stack of references, and started looking up enchanted pendants of Victorian English origin.
Cal managed to appear for lunch, but fell sleep again on the couch when Niko sat down with him to watch a documentary on the California gold rush. Niko let Cal's head rest against his shoulder for the duration of the program; then he got up and left Cal napping alone on the couch, curled up under a blanket.
After some rounds of martial arts, though, Cal woke up, grumbling, and after a snack they went out for a run again. They dropped by Goodfellow's for a visit, but no-one answered the door except for Salome and Spartacus. Undeterred, they went back home, and Niko called Promise to talk about their client. Promise agreed to arrange the financial details and invited them both for dinner. Niko politely declined, knowing it was a shorter walk for Cal to go to the bar from here, and went to cook dinner.
Cal left for work. Niko took a nap, and went to pick Cal up from the bar at 3 AM. They met with their client, got descriptions and the first half of their payment, and with no further complications headed home. The succubus that tried to hit on Niko met a quick end, but the human junkie that tried to pick Cal's pocket was not so fortunate; he'd live to tell the tale of broken fingers to the police, as he was so mysteriously deposited on the doorstep of their station.
7. Sunday morning, eight-thirty AM. Niko got up and performed his morning routine. Breakfast was at nine, but Cal got up around lunch-time and ate then, sleepy-eyed and hazy until he'd had had coffee.
They went out to the park and sparred, then went looking for the pendant they were supposed to be tracking down. Two promising leads panned out to nothing, but the third one seemed likely to deliver the goods in question.
No such luck; by sunset they still hadn't found it, but they were closer. They ate out, then headed off to another address for another lead. After the fourth dead end, they called it quits for the day and took to an abandoned building to do a little hunting. Revenants and rusalka provided plenty of excitement, fighting, and a good deal of property damage.
Back home they came and cleaned various cuts and bruises and abrasions, victorious but both with headaches from the rusalka's singing. A second dinner was made, as it was quite late by now, and they ate at the kitchen table. Niko quietly flexed his bruised knee under the table, and Cal kept admiring his skint elbow - skint halfway up his arm and raw still.
Niko cleaned his swords after they'd eaten, and he and Cal threw the foam Nerf ninja stars back and forth, Niko never moving and Cal trying to take refuge behind the arm of the couch, where he laid across the entire length on his stomach, socked feet kicking with concentration. In a moment before an attack, from the corner of his eye Niko caught Cal peering over the arm of the couch, dark hair shading clear grey eyes bright with mischief and unvoiced laughter.
An arm whipped out, and without looking, Niko caught the foam weapon between his fingers. He flicked it back and caught Cal right between the eyes. Cal yelped and dropped down again. Niko turned his head to hide his own smile and stroked his oiled cloth down the length of the broadsword spanning his knees.
He'd finish this last sword and go flip Cal off the couch. Smirking like that was just asking for retribution.
They'd both go to bed late, after ripping open a couch cushion in the subsequent brawl and cleaning it up.
And Niko's week started over again on Monday morning, 6 AM sharp.