Renegotiation
by vega
Summary: Nigel, frustrated to be always under the shadows of his brother and Sydney, contemplates calling it quits.
Spoiler/Season: Right after the Fountain of Youth episode.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Note: Just a short fluff that I was in the mood for. And Nigel definitely deserves this. ;)
***
"Dammit!"
A book flew away and hit the wall with a thud. Normally Nigel would cringe, wondering how much damage his little outburst could have done to an antique book that had been merrily occupying the top of his desk, its only fault being unfortunate enough to be the closest object when he'd been searching for a way for catharsis. This time, he told himself he didn't give a damn about the book that would possibly be worth more than his salary. He really, really didn't.
Precisely ten seconds later, Nigel begrudgingly got up and went around the desk to pick it up. He blew away the dust on the cover and adjusted his glasses to check for any possible damage. Nothing. He let out the breath he was holding.
This was ridiculous.
Why was he still so hung up on this, so unreasonably angry? Had he not yet accepted the fact Preston had and always would turn his life upside down? There was no need to be upset over this. That incident was over a week ago, and it was time to go back to the school work. Syd's Cultural Anthropology 204 had brought him fifty papers to mark, as well as two different assignments from Introductory Archaeology 101. This was time to concentrate. He had to.
This resolution, however, didn't last long. After one and half paper later, he put down his glasses and rubbed his eyes.
This wasn't going to work, was it? He had tried hard enough, but once the realization settled in his head, it became engraved, no turning back. This was not going to work. He knew.
Then what, pray tell, was he waiting for?
The sound of footsteps from the hallway, which he recognized right away, brought him out of the reverie. Soft, almost silent, with careful precision, Syd's footsteps always sharply contrasted with those of Karen's, whose walk with hard, high heels made all manner of noises that would even wake up the dead.
Nigel quickly went back to grading, and when Sydney opened the door, he made a show of looking up from the paper.
"Hey, Syd."
With a semi-formal black suit and the hair that every Shampoo commercial copywriters would die for, Sydney didn't look like someone who had pulled several head-to-head with other unsavory relic hunters merely a few days ago. No cast or bruise to show, always ready, always perfect. "Nige," she spoke lightly, "you're in early."
He mumbled, eyes downcast, "Um, well, you know, papers."
She smiled as she walked over. "Want little help?"
He snatched the papers away from her a little too quickly for his own good. "No, no. It's all right. 'Cause, you know, students get intimidated when the professor marks their papers instead of the TA." TA. Teaching Assistant. That was what he was, after all.
A slight puzzled look flashed across her face, but she quickly shook that away. "Sure, then."
He uneasily watched from the edge of his eyesight as she went across the room to enter her office. Any minute now, she was going to talk about it, he knew. He didn't want to hear it. He didn't want this waiting period to end and actually have to go and do what was inevitable.
Sure enough, she soon walked out with a piece of paper in hand. "Hey, Nigel, did you see this? Got a fax last night about your brother. Preston is receiving a special recognition for discovering the water --or a glass that used to contain it anyway-- from the mythical Fountain of Youth."
Discovering! Hah, Nigel thought. "I read it."
Her lips twisted into a grin. "Now, is that overt enthusiasm about the success of your brother I'm hearing?"
It took some mental restraint not to snort out loud. "Yes, well, I wouldn't say 'overt'. Come to think of it, I wouldn't even use the word 'enthusiasm' if I can help it."
"You can't still be mad about this."
"I'm not."
She shook her head. "Nige, come on."
She probably wasn't even aware that the tone of condescension slipping into her voice, he thought bitterly. "What's there to be mad about? Had it not been my choice to give him credit so he can get his precious job back at the British Museum? It's not like this sort of thing never happened to me before."
She looked at him with exasperation, a hint of sympathetic glint not entirely absent. Nonetheless, the overall effect was a mother-scolding-her-son look that he hated with passion. "Nigel, he didn't intentionally ruin your seminar."
"Just like he didn't intentionally block my chance to present the Fountain of Youth as my next seminar topic. Yep, I get that." He stood up, his face flushed. "Dammit, Sydney, I worked hard for that seminar. I didn't deserve to be laughed off the stage."
"Of course not." She seemed taken aback, her dark eyes marking surprise. "I'm sorry. I didn't think you took it this hard."
He raked his hair with his fingers, "Of course. Why would you think that? It's always like this. Whenever there's a chance for me to do something myself, it just goes on, screwed up."
Syd took a few tentative steps toward his desk, putting her best reassuring look. "We'll arrange something, then. I'm *quite* sure I can persuade Preston into letting you have your own seminar. You'll get your chances and more, Nige."
Now this was just too much. Sure, treating him like a clumsy kid waiting for a candy was fine, because he was clumsy and was prone to change his mind after her sweet-talk, but this time... "That's not the problem, Sydney. You don't get it, do you? I'm just an assistant to you, someone to check in the hotels, carry the bags and translate long and tedious limericks of nothings that might or might not lead you to another hunt in which you're out there kicking butts and time and again save my life. Oh bloody hell. I can't do this any more."
Sydney blinked hard. "Nigel, you're *not* just an assistant. You've done a lot for the Ancient Studies, for us--"
"Oh really? I was under the impression I really don't matter, because the last time I checked, I had no impressive dissertation to show for or no record whatsoever in the academic circle. I should've been able to do something by now, but I have nothing. Nothing to show for myself. This was my chance, then a gigantic blonde jumped into my room, breaking my nose instead of my brother's."
"Nigel, you're important to this faculty, to us, to the whole academia of anthropology. How can you *not* know that?"
'Oh well, you didn't really go your way to make me feel that I am, did you?' almost came out from his lips, but he stopped in time. Even in his lowest mood, he knew that wouldn't have been fair to her.
"It didn't matter before because I knew I was contributing for something greater--for someone greater, Syd. I thought I was making a difference. And the excitement...it was exhilarating. But now I know this is a job that anyone can carry out. You don't need me, Syd. You never did. I--" he swallowed. "I'd like to leave."
As soon as he let the words out, the hurt look on Sydney was instantaneous.
He quickly looked away. "I mean, there are plenty of fellow relic hunters and plenty more of teaching assistants who can help you with this work...and the other one. If I leave, you'll have more than enough share of volunteers ready to work with you."
The hurt look on her face disappeared, and her jaws set into a grim determination. He vaguely recognized the look from many times when Sydney tried to fight off larger-than-life obstacles. "I don't need them, Nigel. I don't need *twenty* of them. I need you."
Not that he didn't like hearing that or anything, and he actually kinda was bumbling with joy at the moment, but he had to ask, "Why? I mean, of course I'm happy you need me, but like I said, there are many--"
His speech was abruptly cut when a hand pulled him closer and lips were pressed into his.
Sydney's lips.
It was miraculous that any part of his brain was actually coherent enough to formulate a single thought, but he thought--'Syd is kissing me,' with levity and incredulity.
When they pulled off, it was because of the oxygen that was quickly becoming an issue.
Nigel blinked, hard. "W-what was that?"
For a moment, even Sydney looked determinedly confused at her own action. And...that couldn't be a blush creeping into her cheeks, was it? Because Sydney did not blush. Right? "Uh, showing how much I appreciate you?"
"No, no, no, you can't just kiss me and make this all go away. We have a real problem here. I'm not, uh..." He suddenly became acutely aware of her hand that was still resting on his chest. He stared at it, wondering when it got there and how come he hadn't noticed. "I mean, this just isn't... You distracted me!"
Sydney was, obviously, attempting to look solemn. "I did."
"That's not fair!"
"It isn't."
"You just can't keep distracting me."
Sydney looked as if she couldn't decide whether to frown or burst into laughter. "Of course not. I apologize."
"And we can't do...*that* any more."
"Really?" Her eyebrow arched, her index finger drawing a circle on the desk.
"Uh, well, um, I--" He felt flushed all over, and it was just impossible to make an answer composed with the words that were not monosyllabic at this point.
"Then what *is* it going to take to make you stay?" Her lips were curled up into an amused smile, but her eyes seemed serious, almost anxious. "I might not have said enough, but I can't lose you, Nigel."
This time, the question just *had* to be answered. He held her eyes, resolved to get an answer. "Why, Syd?"
"Because no matter how important your work is to this academia, which it is, *you* are more important to me."
He felt his mouth hanging open. She didn't look like she was kidding. In fact, she seemed deadly serious.
"So?" Sydney fidgeted nervously, waiting for an answer.
"Well," Nigel said, furiously fighting to stop blushing, "I don't want to look so easy."
"Nigel, I could safely tell you that this is one of the most difficult conversations I've ever had in my entire life."
That did it. She was serious.
And she didn't seem to mind at *all* about the prospect of kissing him again.
Oh, what the hell. This job came with excellent fringe benefits.
"Well, um, if you do *that* again and I might be open...for, uh, renegotiation."
Syd's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Gladly."
THE END
by vega
Summary: Nigel, frustrated to be always under the shadows of his brother and Sydney, contemplates calling it quits.
Spoiler/Season: Right after the Fountain of Youth episode.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Note: Just a short fluff that I was in the mood for. And Nigel definitely deserves this. ;)
***
"Dammit!"
A book flew away and hit the wall with a thud. Normally Nigel would cringe, wondering how much damage his little outburst could have done to an antique book that had been merrily occupying the top of his desk, its only fault being unfortunate enough to be the closest object when he'd been searching for a way for catharsis. This time, he told himself he didn't give a damn about the book that would possibly be worth more than his salary. He really, really didn't.
Precisely ten seconds later, Nigel begrudgingly got up and went around the desk to pick it up. He blew away the dust on the cover and adjusted his glasses to check for any possible damage. Nothing. He let out the breath he was holding.
This was ridiculous.
Why was he still so hung up on this, so unreasonably angry? Had he not yet accepted the fact Preston had and always would turn his life upside down? There was no need to be upset over this. That incident was over a week ago, and it was time to go back to the school work. Syd's Cultural Anthropology 204 had brought him fifty papers to mark, as well as two different assignments from Introductory Archaeology 101. This was time to concentrate. He had to.
This resolution, however, didn't last long. After one and half paper later, he put down his glasses and rubbed his eyes.
This wasn't going to work, was it? He had tried hard enough, but once the realization settled in his head, it became engraved, no turning back. This was not going to work. He knew.
Then what, pray tell, was he waiting for?
The sound of footsteps from the hallway, which he recognized right away, brought him out of the reverie. Soft, almost silent, with careful precision, Syd's footsteps always sharply contrasted with those of Karen's, whose walk with hard, high heels made all manner of noises that would even wake up the dead.
Nigel quickly went back to grading, and when Sydney opened the door, he made a show of looking up from the paper.
"Hey, Syd."
With a semi-formal black suit and the hair that every Shampoo commercial copywriters would die for, Sydney didn't look like someone who had pulled several head-to-head with other unsavory relic hunters merely a few days ago. No cast or bruise to show, always ready, always perfect. "Nige," she spoke lightly, "you're in early."
He mumbled, eyes downcast, "Um, well, you know, papers."
She smiled as she walked over. "Want little help?"
He snatched the papers away from her a little too quickly for his own good. "No, no. It's all right. 'Cause, you know, students get intimidated when the professor marks their papers instead of the TA." TA. Teaching Assistant. That was what he was, after all.
A slight puzzled look flashed across her face, but she quickly shook that away. "Sure, then."
He uneasily watched from the edge of his eyesight as she went across the room to enter her office. Any minute now, she was going to talk about it, he knew. He didn't want to hear it. He didn't want this waiting period to end and actually have to go and do what was inevitable.
Sure enough, she soon walked out with a piece of paper in hand. "Hey, Nigel, did you see this? Got a fax last night about your brother. Preston is receiving a special recognition for discovering the water --or a glass that used to contain it anyway-- from the mythical Fountain of Youth."
Discovering! Hah, Nigel thought. "I read it."
Her lips twisted into a grin. "Now, is that overt enthusiasm about the success of your brother I'm hearing?"
It took some mental restraint not to snort out loud. "Yes, well, I wouldn't say 'overt'. Come to think of it, I wouldn't even use the word 'enthusiasm' if I can help it."
"You can't still be mad about this."
"I'm not."
She shook her head. "Nige, come on."
She probably wasn't even aware that the tone of condescension slipping into her voice, he thought bitterly. "What's there to be mad about? Had it not been my choice to give him credit so he can get his precious job back at the British Museum? It's not like this sort of thing never happened to me before."
She looked at him with exasperation, a hint of sympathetic glint not entirely absent. Nonetheless, the overall effect was a mother-scolding-her-son look that he hated with passion. "Nigel, he didn't intentionally ruin your seminar."
"Just like he didn't intentionally block my chance to present the Fountain of Youth as my next seminar topic. Yep, I get that." He stood up, his face flushed. "Dammit, Sydney, I worked hard for that seminar. I didn't deserve to be laughed off the stage."
"Of course not." She seemed taken aback, her dark eyes marking surprise. "I'm sorry. I didn't think you took it this hard."
He raked his hair with his fingers, "Of course. Why would you think that? It's always like this. Whenever there's a chance for me to do something myself, it just goes on, screwed up."
Syd took a few tentative steps toward his desk, putting her best reassuring look. "We'll arrange something, then. I'm *quite* sure I can persuade Preston into letting you have your own seminar. You'll get your chances and more, Nige."
Now this was just too much. Sure, treating him like a clumsy kid waiting for a candy was fine, because he was clumsy and was prone to change his mind after her sweet-talk, but this time... "That's not the problem, Sydney. You don't get it, do you? I'm just an assistant to you, someone to check in the hotels, carry the bags and translate long and tedious limericks of nothings that might or might not lead you to another hunt in which you're out there kicking butts and time and again save my life. Oh bloody hell. I can't do this any more."
Sydney blinked hard. "Nigel, you're *not* just an assistant. You've done a lot for the Ancient Studies, for us--"
"Oh really? I was under the impression I really don't matter, because the last time I checked, I had no impressive dissertation to show for or no record whatsoever in the academic circle. I should've been able to do something by now, but I have nothing. Nothing to show for myself. This was my chance, then a gigantic blonde jumped into my room, breaking my nose instead of my brother's."
"Nigel, you're important to this faculty, to us, to the whole academia of anthropology. How can you *not* know that?"
'Oh well, you didn't really go your way to make me feel that I am, did you?' almost came out from his lips, but he stopped in time. Even in his lowest mood, he knew that wouldn't have been fair to her.
"It didn't matter before because I knew I was contributing for something greater--for someone greater, Syd. I thought I was making a difference. And the excitement...it was exhilarating. But now I know this is a job that anyone can carry out. You don't need me, Syd. You never did. I--" he swallowed. "I'd like to leave."
As soon as he let the words out, the hurt look on Sydney was instantaneous.
He quickly looked away. "I mean, there are plenty of fellow relic hunters and plenty more of teaching assistants who can help you with this work...and the other one. If I leave, you'll have more than enough share of volunteers ready to work with you."
The hurt look on her face disappeared, and her jaws set into a grim determination. He vaguely recognized the look from many times when Sydney tried to fight off larger-than-life obstacles. "I don't need them, Nigel. I don't need *twenty* of them. I need you."
Not that he didn't like hearing that or anything, and he actually kinda was bumbling with joy at the moment, but he had to ask, "Why? I mean, of course I'm happy you need me, but like I said, there are many--"
His speech was abruptly cut when a hand pulled him closer and lips were pressed into his.
Sydney's lips.
It was miraculous that any part of his brain was actually coherent enough to formulate a single thought, but he thought--'Syd is kissing me,' with levity and incredulity.
When they pulled off, it was because of the oxygen that was quickly becoming an issue.
Nigel blinked, hard. "W-what was that?"
For a moment, even Sydney looked determinedly confused at her own action. And...that couldn't be a blush creeping into her cheeks, was it? Because Sydney did not blush. Right? "Uh, showing how much I appreciate you?"
"No, no, no, you can't just kiss me and make this all go away. We have a real problem here. I'm not, uh..." He suddenly became acutely aware of her hand that was still resting on his chest. He stared at it, wondering when it got there and how come he hadn't noticed. "I mean, this just isn't... You distracted me!"
Sydney was, obviously, attempting to look solemn. "I did."
"That's not fair!"
"It isn't."
"You just can't keep distracting me."
Sydney looked as if she couldn't decide whether to frown or burst into laughter. "Of course not. I apologize."
"And we can't do...*that* any more."
"Really?" Her eyebrow arched, her index finger drawing a circle on the desk.
"Uh, well, um, I--" He felt flushed all over, and it was just impossible to make an answer composed with the words that were not monosyllabic at this point.
"Then what *is* it going to take to make you stay?" Her lips were curled up into an amused smile, but her eyes seemed serious, almost anxious. "I might not have said enough, but I can't lose you, Nigel."
This time, the question just *had* to be answered. He held her eyes, resolved to get an answer. "Why, Syd?"
"Because no matter how important your work is to this academia, which it is, *you* are more important to me."
He felt his mouth hanging open. She didn't look like she was kidding. In fact, she seemed deadly serious.
"So?" Sydney fidgeted nervously, waiting for an answer.
"Well," Nigel said, furiously fighting to stop blushing, "I don't want to look so easy."
"Nigel, I could safely tell you that this is one of the most difficult conversations I've ever had in my entire life."
That did it. She was serious.
And she didn't seem to mind at *all* about the prospect of kissing him again.
Oh, what the hell. This job came with excellent fringe benefits.
"Well, um, if you do *that* again and I might be open...for, uh, renegotiation."
Syd's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Gladly."
THE END