Disclaimer: Not mine
A/N: I know it ends rather abruptly, but that's what I aimed for, I think. I know I promised something lighter, but I couldn't help adding some angst. This is for all the Snickers out there.
Pairing: N/S
Like me
He was sitting in the darkness of his living room. Quietly, doing nothing, just sitting there, wondering why he had kept living in the house that had been invaded. First by a stalker and then by his colleagues and friends.
Christmas was just a couple of days away and they had practically forced him to take some days off. It would be good to spend some time with his family. Little did they know that he just couldn't bear more people looking at him, feeling sorry for him, wondering if he had gone just a little bit crazy after he had been buried alive.
He had told his mum he couldn't make it this year. Told her that after all his team had done for him, he wanted to do something back and offered to work through Christmas and New Year's Eve. He also told her it would be good for him to have a fixed routine in his life. A little white lie didn't harm anyone, right?
Noise outside his apartment startled him out of his thoughts. Reaching for his spare gun, he shifted to another position on his couch from where he could observe his front door but from where he couldn't be seen.
When the door opened it didn't take him long to recognize the person coming to visit him or his empty apartment for all they knew.
The one and only Sara Sidle. The blinking lights on the Christmas hat adorning her head illuminating her face, making her recognizable to him.
Walking in, she dropped the bag she had been holding and switched the lights on.
"Nicky." She called out to him before she turned around and saw him sitting on the far side of the couch, spare gun still more or less aimed at the front door.
"What's the deal with the turned off lights?"
She didn't touch the subject of the gun which was still somewhat aimed at her.
He shrugged and put the gun back to its original position.
"Nice hat."
"It's yours."
Before he could object she had already walked over and put it on his head.
"It itches."
"Deal with it." She said while retrieving the bag she had dropped at the front door.
"What did you bring." Nodding towards the bag.
"You will have to wait and see."
"No gift."
"Your gift is right here." She said while pointing at herself.
"I get you?"
"You want me?"
"Is that a trick question."
"Do you want it to be."
He was glad that they could fall back on their playful banter.
"No."
"Good."
"Because it's all I have to offer." She whispered the last words, but he heard her loud and clear.
"And that's all I need." Saying the words loud enough so she could hear.
"I have something for you as well."
She looked up while she was still unpacking the bag which held the Christmas cookies and the gift she had brought him (the one beside herself), surprise etched on her face.
He walked over to the closet retrieving the stuffed animal he had bought her the year they had met each other, but never dared to give her.
"Bambi?"
"She reminds me of you."
"How come?"
"The way she stumbles and falls, but gets up and fights her way through life."
Silence
"Her big beautiful brown eyes."
He didn't mean to say the last words, but didn't regret saying them out loud.
She didn't react, but continued inspecting the stuffed animal.
"It's safe for a thirty-four year old." He said trying to lighten the mood.
"No one ever gave me a stuffed animal."
"No one ever gave me a Sara." Earning a smile from her, he still wondered how she knew he was home.
Reading his mind, she explained her presence.
"You are more like me than you are willing to admit, so I figured you would be still in Vegas. I just had to check."
"Thanks."
"So you think I have beautiful eyes?"
FIN