Nicky and the Pike Family Reunion
(Author Note: First attempt at BSC fiction ( For some reason, I've always had a Pike Family fascination, especially with Nicky, since he was always the outsider. So, please, review away!)
He threw himself down on the couch, nuzzling his cheek against her thigh as Sylvester Stallone beat people up on the TV. "Aw, come on. It'll be fun."
"Nick, we've been dating a whole two weeks – why the big rush for the meet- the-family day?"
He sat up again, looking at her seriously, "It's a double party. Claire's graduating high school, Vanessa just graduated Penn. My entire family will be there – spouses, signifigant others, and all. Hell, I think my old baby- sitters are showing up. My yard is going to be Grand Central, and I'd just…..I'd really like you to be there."
She bit her lip and turned a bit as he studied her. She wasn't a model, and in his mind, it was a compliment. Although he had traded his glasses for contacts the second he was allowed, he was always impressed with Cherry's trendy heavy frames. They said better than anything that she didn't give a damn what anyone else thought, period.
"Why do you want me there so badly? I mean, they're your family….not mine."
Nicky stood, beginning to pace a little. He'd never grown accustomed to his height. Somehow, he had wound up several inches taller than both his brothers or his father. "Why do I want you there?" he repeated. "Because…." Because I love you and I'd like you to meet my family, he thought. But of course he couldn't say that aloud, not yet. So he went to the second most important reason. "I tend to blend into my family. Everyone else has something…..distinctive. I'm just Nick. Nicky, Nicholas, whatever. And if I'm going to blend into the background….I'd like someone to talk to."
"So I blend into the background, huh?"
He whirled around to clarify what he said, then saw her grin and realized she was teasing him. His muscles relaxed a bit. "You couldn't blend if you wore body paint to match the wallpaper," he said softly.
She gave him that sardonic smile he loved so much. "I'll take that as a compliment," she replied dryly. "But I don't see how you could blend, either."
"You don't know my family," he said, just as dryly. "Mallory's a reporter, and her first children's book is coming out this fall. She's not famous, but she's got her talent. Byron's in medical school, Jordon's going for his Psy.D., Adam's been signed with the best architectural firm in D.C. Vanessa just graduated with a 3.9 GPA – do you know how hard that is? Even Margo – she's still just in college, but….well, you'll understand when you see her. And Claire's always been the baby. And I'm just – me." He moved his arm in a widesweeping gesture towards his window, where the wonderful city of Manhattan pulsed outside. "I'm 21, Cherry. I never even bothered going to college. I'm a bartender, for god's sake."
"At the hottest club in the city," she pointed out reasonably.
"Does it matter? I blend here, too, but at least I'm supposed to blend here. I go back home, and then what? Mallory talks about her new book and her beloved fiancé, or I hear about graduate school from my brothers, or….what does it matter, anyway." He sighed. "You better get a move on, or you're never going to get enough sleep to function in class tomorrow."
She stayed seated, watching him. "Does it lessen who you are by how far your siblings went in college?"
Rule Number One for my kids, should I ever have any, he thought fiercely, never date a future psychologist. "I know I'm supposed to say 'no.' That's the well-adjusted answer. No, it doesn't lessen me, no, it doesn't raise them above me. But I don't like that they have focus and I can't find mine."
She stood up and shrugged on her coat. "It's not them you're upset at, you know."
"I know. But being part of such a motivated family – hell, being around you so much. You know exactly what you want. You make me want to go out and accomplish great things….but I don't think I have great things in me."
Cherry crossed the hardwood floor and leaned up to kiss him. He was tall, but she was just shy of five foot ten herself, so she didn't have to lean far. He liked that. She wrapped her arms around him lightly, and her voice was soft, but pure fact. "I think you could do any great thing you wanted to, Nick. I do." She kissed him one more time and walked towards the door. "And I'll think about the reunion. I promise."
She turned at the door. Her leather coat swung around her ankles, the same black as her clunky heeled boots. Her skirt was blue denim and reached her ankles; her top a white peasant blouse. She always dressed simply, and he liked that too. Pushing her glasses up her nose, she smiled at him again. "I think you're wonderfully distinctive, Nick. You're obsessively neat, you listen better than anyone in my psychology classes, and you've read everything Aristotle wrote. You can talk about Calvin and Hobbes or Immanual Kant. You know so much about so much…..your family is specialized. You want to learn anything about anything, which is why it's so hard for you to choose one area to study, that's all. That in itself makes you special."
He stared at her for a moment, unable to speak. No words could thank her for what she had said, so he did the next best thing. Striding forward, he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, under her coat, and kissed her deeply. He didn't let her go for a long time and when he did it was only because he knew she had class in the morning. Closing the door after her, he sunk down onto the couch, his mind spinning, his family forgotten for the moment. He was stuck in the past, back into the first time he'd seen her in the club…..
(Author Note: First attempt at BSC fiction ( For some reason, I've always had a Pike Family fascination, especially with Nicky, since he was always the outsider. So, please, review away!)
He threw himself down on the couch, nuzzling his cheek against her thigh as Sylvester Stallone beat people up on the TV. "Aw, come on. It'll be fun."
"Nick, we've been dating a whole two weeks – why the big rush for the meet- the-family day?"
He sat up again, looking at her seriously, "It's a double party. Claire's graduating high school, Vanessa just graduated Penn. My entire family will be there – spouses, signifigant others, and all. Hell, I think my old baby- sitters are showing up. My yard is going to be Grand Central, and I'd just…..I'd really like you to be there."
She bit her lip and turned a bit as he studied her. She wasn't a model, and in his mind, it was a compliment. Although he had traded his glasses for contacts the second he was allowed, he was always impressed with Cherry's trendy heavy frames. They said better than anything that she didn't give a damn what anyone else thought, period.
"Why do you want me there so badly? I mean, they're your family….not mine."
Nicky stood, beginning to pace a little. He'd never grown accustomed to his height. Somehow, he had wound up several inches taller than both his brothers or his father. "Why do I want you there?" he repeated. "Because…." Because I love you and I'd like you to meet my family, he thought. But of course he couldn't say that aloud, not yet. So he went to the second most important reason. "I tend to blend into my family. Everyone else has something…..distinctive. I'm just Nick. Nicky, Nicholas, whatever. And if I'm going to blend into the background….I'd like someone to talk to."
"So I blend into the background, huh?"
He whirled around to clarify what he said, then saw her grin and realized she was teasing him. His muscles relaxed a bit. "You couldn't blend if you wore body paint to match the wallpaper," he said softly.
She gave him that sardonic smile he loved so much. "I'll take that as a compliment," she replied dryly. "But I don't see how you could blend, either."
"You don't know my family," he said, just as dryly. "Mallory's a reporter, and her first children's book is coming out this fall. She's not famous, but she's got her talent. Byron's in medical school, Jordon's going for his Psy.D., Adam's been signed with the best architectural firm in D.C. Vanessa just graduated with a 3.9 GPA – do you know how hard that is? Even Margo – she's still just in college, but….well, you'll understand when you see her. And Claire's always been the baby. And I'm just – me." He moved his arm in a widesweeping gesture towards his window, where the wonderful city of Manhattan pulsed outside. "I'm 21, Cherry. I never even bothered going to college. I'm a bartender, for god's sake."
"At the hottest club in the city," she pointed out reasonably.
"Does it matter? I blend here, too, but at least I'm supposed to blend here. I go back home, and then what? Mallory talks about her new book and her beloved fiancé, or I hear about graduate school from my brothers, or….what does it matter, anyway." He sighed. "You better get a move on, or you're never going to get enough sleep to function in class tomorrow."
She stayed seated, watching him. "Does it lessen who you are by how far your siblings went in college?"
Rule Number One for my kids, should I ever have any, he thought fiercely, never date a future psychologist. "I know I'm supposed to say 'no.' That's the well-adjusted answer. No, it doesn't lessen me, no, it doesn't raise them above me. But I don't like that they have focus and I can't find mine."
She stood up and shrugged on her coat. "It's not them you're upset at, you know."
"I know. But being part of such a motivated family – hell, being around you so much. You know exactly what you want. You make me want to go out and accomplish great things….but I don't think I have great things in me."
Cherry crossed the hardwood floor and leaned up to kiss him. He was tall, but she was just shy of five foot ten herself, so she didn't have to lean far. He liked that. She wrapped her arms around him lightly, and her voice was soft, but pure fact. "I think you could do any great thing you wanted to, Nick. I do." She kissed him one more time and walked towards the door. "And I'll think about the reunion. I promise."
She turned at the door. Her leather coat swung around her ankles, the same black as her clunky heeled boots. Her skirt was blue denim and reached her ankles; her top a white peasant blouse. She always dressed simply, and he liked that too. Pushing her glasses up her nose, she smiled at him again. "I think you're wonderfully distinctive, Nick. You're obsessively neat, you listen better than anyone in my psychology classes, and you've read everything Aristotle wrote. You can talk about Calvin and Hobbes or Immanual Kant. You know so much about so much…..your family is specialized. You want to learn anything about anything, which is why it's so hard for you to choose one area to study, that's all. That in itself makes you special."
He stared at her for a moment, unable to speak. No words could thank her for what she had said, so he did the next best thing. Striding forward, he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, under her coat, and kissed her deeply. He didn't let her go for a long time and when he did it was only because he knew she had class in the morning. Closing the door after her, he sunk down onto the couch, his mind spinning, his family forgotten for the moment. He was stuck in the past, back into the first time he'd seen her in the club…..