The sun was just beginning to set on the third of October as Nick Valentine scowled at his reflection in Nora's bathroom mirror, his fingers fumbling awkwardly with the bow-tie that came with his rented tuxedo.
He'd managed to avoid it last time, but his boss had outright ordered him to show up this year… something about introducing him to the new captain being transferred in to head their little Eddie Winter task-force. Why the meeting had to take place at the annual Boston Police Department charity ball Nick wasn't sure.
Something to do with politics or appearances he'd wager… a lot of powerful society types were going to be there, maybe even the mayor himself. He supposed it would be entertaining to watch his boisterous and uncouth co-workers try to mingle with the city's pompous upper crust.
Plus Nora seemed absolutely thrilled to be going, which perplexed Nick to say the least. She'd once been a regular attendee at soirees like this during her college years, as her father's plus one. But her retelling of that period in her life made it clear that she'd never enjoyed herself at those formal affairs, describing them as tedious, boring, insipid and mind-numbingly boring.
The woman occupying his thoughts made her appearance known in that moment by slapping his ineffective fingers away from the tie he was wrestling with before calmly taking over the task.
She was dolled-up like a movie star ready to walk down the red carpet... wearing an ankle-length, deep crimson dress with sequins dotted sparsely across the fabric. The neckline was modest, but the skirt sported a long cut up the left side, offering a tantalizing vision of one smooth, pale leg. She hadn't applied her make-up yet, but her shoulder-length hair had been given the roller treatment and was now bouncing against her cheeks in large, shiny curls. Nora smirked up at him as she worked.
"You wear a tie every day, how do you not know how to do this?" she asked.
"I only ever mastered the standard Windsor knot" Nick admitted with a sad grin. "Turns out that properly putting on a tie is one of those things a boy usually learns from his dad… like shaving. Which nearly killed me, by the way"
"Ouch... I think I can imagine" she cringed out of sympathy. "So how many trips to the emergency room did it take before you figured it out?"
"None" he grumbled in feigned offense. "But I did walk around with a lot of bandages stuck to my face before I thought to ask a barber to teach me"
Finishing off the bow with a flourish Nora stepped back to admire the end result with a cocked brow and an impish smile. "Take the night off Sam Spade, I'm going to a black-tie ball with James Bond tonight"
Nick chuckled at her assessment and turned back to the mirror to begin tidying up his hair.
"I thought you hated these shindigs, where's all this enthusiasm coming from?" he asked.
"I'm going with you, silly. Isn't that enough reason to be excited?" she answered plainly.
His heart lurched in that curious way it always did when Nora was nearby, after all these months Nick had an inkling as to what was causing it...
"Plus it's going to be an absolute riot watching the guys you work with try and rub shoulders with some of the more distinguished members of Boston high society" she continued as she started to rub a light powder into her cheeks with the aid of a tiny compact mirror. "Can you imagine Donny trying to win over some prim and proper debutante by chugging champagne and belching out the entirety of 'Take Me Out To The Ball Game'?
Nick snorted ungracefully at the image… and at the uncanny similarity to his own thoughts. Yep… he was pretty damn sure he loved her.
Done with his hair (as low maintenance as it was) he left Nora to her feminine rituals and went searching for his cuff-links and a pre-party drink. He poured out a finger of whiskey for each of them and waited on the sofa, mentally running through their agreed itinerary for the night;
Go to the ball, meet the new captain, pose for a few pictures, talk to just enough party-goers that they couldn't be accused of being anti-social, and slip out during the speeches. If all went according to plan they'd be back in time for The Silver Shroud. They'd agreed in advance that Nora could adopt any ridiculous accent she pleased while talking to new acquaintances, in return she wouldn't, under any circumstances, ask Nick to dance.
His thoughts were silenced as his own personal femme-fatale entered his field of vision, sipping from her own glass of whiskey… freshly applied lipstick leaving a crimson kiss around the rim. Nick had to swallow thickly in order to avoid drooling in front of her … he wondered exactly how angry his boss would be if they didn't show up after all.
"No way mister, I did not spend all afternoon with my hair in rollers just so we could stay in and have sex" she deadpanned.
Saucy mind-reading minx, Nick thought to himself as he knocked back the last of his drink and stood to leave.
"That's Alfred Winslow, he's been trying to merge his firm with my dad's for years … Over there is Janet Irving, she was a few years ahead of me at school, dumber than a box of rocks, unfortunately … Those two are Jack and Imogene Cabot, complete fruitcakes, but surprisingly easy to talk to..."
Nora had hoped that giving Nick a rundown of all the people he didn't recognize would relax him somewhat, but it did little to ease the thick tension she could feel paralyzing his body through the arm looped around hers… it was so unlike him, and it had her worried.
She spied a familiar face among the sea of guests; Marie, the young officer that staffed the front desk at Nick's precinct. Nora had built something of a rapport with her over the past few months whenever she stopped by for work-related visits... or to drag Nick out for a slightly healthier lunch than coffee and stale donuts. Perhaps a familiar face would calm him down?
"Marie!" Nora called out, as she fought down the urge to rudely shove her way through the frustratingly slow-to-move throng between them. "Have you seen the chief yet? Please say yes"
"By the bar" Marie raised an arm and pointed in the direction it could be found. "Where else would he be?"
She gave the woman a thumbs up as thanks as the pair shuffled off in search of their first objective for the evening. Nick's taller frame proved invaluable for cutting a path through the crowd, but as the open bar came into view he suddenly froze up, his arm turning to stone around Nora's.
"Detective Valentine!" the chief called in the same moment she laid her eyes on the portly, older gentleman, he gestured to an unfamiliar blonde man at his side and an incredibly curvy red-head wearing the most indecent dress Nora had ever seen at a formal gathering. "This here is Captain Jonathan Widmark, you'll be reporting directly to him from now on… thank God" the last part was murmured into his champagne flute before he took a long gulp and continued; "And this is his date for the evening, she operates out of the Salem bureau nowadays-"
"Detective Claire Kilkenny" Nick interrupted, with a poorly disguised malice that didn't suit him at all. "We've already had the misfortune of meeting. Salem, eh? A town famous for its' witches… how appropriate"
The female detective merely laughed at the insult, low and sensual… while looking at Nick like the proverbial cat that caught the canary.
As she watched the exchange it finally clicked in Nora's head that this was what had Nick tied up in knots. She was unsure if she should sit back and enjoy the show or drag him away before things got ugly.
"Such hostility, Mister Valentine" Claire intoned. "And to think… we used to get on so well"
The red-head's tone and Nick's almost invisible twinge confirmed everything; this had been the woman in his life before he'd met Nora.
It was two hours after his first meeting with new captain when Nick ran a hand through his hair and glared angrily at a nearby flower arrangement he'd almost toppled during his obsessive pacing, mentally chastising himself and the whole damn series of events leading up to this moment...
When he'd been stupid enough to be charmed by a come-hither gaze and a pair of massive breasts…
The months he'd spent ignoring his detective's instincts, and then the rumors…
When he'd finally confronted her, and she'd just laughed and denied nothing. She actually had the nerve to be proud of her actions.
Claire Kilkenny had been the detective spear-heading the Boston Police Department's campaign against Eddie Winter before Nick had been called in from Chicago. She produced a whole library's worth of evidence over the years against a large portion of Winter's top men... it all came from "confidential informants" she'd said.
When Nick arrived on the scene he'd tried to form a partnership with Claire, hoping to learn a few of her tricks and maybe the names of her mysterious informants. She hadn't been interested in a professional relationship however… and he'd been all too eager to fall into her bed.
It was two months into their sordid little fling that Nick learned the truth… That there were never any informants. Claire had been sleeping her way through the criminal organization they'd sworn to bring to justice, stealing whatever juicy tidbits she could when her lovers let their guard down.
He'd reported her, and she'd been transferred away… not fired though, she'd brought too much valuable evidence to the table to be cut loose, the fact that she'd prostituted herself for that information didn't seem to matter one iota to his superiors.
And now Nora knew everything.
Nick had explained everything to her in rushed and hushed tones once they managed to slip away from the chief and the captain... poor sucker that he was to be tangled up with Claire, he should probably warn him when they met again. Nora had said precious little during his tale and even less once it was over. He couldn't tell if she was angry, or upset, or felt anything at all. So he'd kept a vice-like grip around her arm from then on... with a crazy, paranoid voice telling him over and over in his head that the second he let go of her she'd disappear on him.
It was only when she'd squirmed in that unmistakable way and shot him a pleading look that he'd let her go.
Now he was haunting the archway leading to the ladies bathroom like a damned stalker because that little voice just wouldn't let up.
He nearly had a heart attack when he felt Nora's soft hand slip into his… how she could make so little noise in such impractical footwear would forever be a mystery to him. She gave him a restless expression and glanced at a nearby side-entrance.
"I need some air" she murmured. "Care to join me?"
If that wasn't code for the dreaded "We need to talk" thenNick didn't know what was. Nevertheless he nodded and allowed her to lead him outdoors and across the street, to a small park bathed in the soft glow of fluorescent streetlamps. As the din of the policeman's ball got further away he couldn't help but feel he was walking to the gallows, rather than a wooden picnic table wreathed in shadow.
Nora hoisted herself onto worn surface and lazily kicked her legs back and forth, likely savoring the feeling of being off her tortured feet.
"Well, are you going to tell me what has you so upset?" she asked plainly.
Nick could only stare blankly at her and run through the facts he had on hand…
She'd met Claire, watched her flirt shamelessly with him, been told the entire sleazy story, said almost nothing to him all night… and now she wanted to know what was eating him? Something felt backwards here. When she raised a brow at him in question his words came out slightly strangled;
"I thought you were going to leave me!"
"Nick, I hate to break this to you... but you're hardly the first man in the long history of the world to be hypnotized by a spectacular pair of tits" she emphasized her statement by grabbing her own chest, miming a crude bouncing motion with a wicked grin.
Nick didn't know whether to feel infuriated or relieved at her blase attitude, but he felt all the tension he'd accumulated over the last few hours drain from his body all the same… so powerful was the miraculous "Aura of Nora", as he'd dubbed it. He realized in that moment that he'd done her a disservice over the evening, and he stepped forward, cupping her face and stroking a thumb along her cheek.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart" he murmured, cherishing the silky feel of her skin and the dots of light reflected warmly in her wide brown eyes.
"Nick, really, you don't have to apologize for something that happened-"
"I'm not" he interrupted. "I spent the last two hours convinced you were going to drop me faster than a moldy apple, I thought the worst of you… when everything I've seen of you has been nothing but the best I've ever seen, all wrapped up a single, beautiful human being. How can I think the worst about the woman I love?"
Damn it, this wasn't how he wanted to tell her, the words had just tumbled out of their own accord. But at the same time he berated himself for taking so long to say it out loud. He loved her. He fucking loved her … hell, he suspected that he'd fallen for her the moment he spied her across that crowded courtroom… when he'd felt his world shift so perfectly off it's axis.
He didn't waste a second, he brought his other hand to her face and pressed his lips to hers in a firm but tender kiss. If his words weren't enough then he could only hope that the depth of his feelings reached her through that tiny point of contact. He'd stretch out this pivotal moment for as long as he was able if it helped his case in any significant way … and if she rejected him then at least he'd have the memory of her soft skin… her taste… her unique fragrance.
Nick then finally registered that he wasn't being pushed away, on the contrary, Nora had one hand tugging at his lapels and the other buried in the hair at the base of his neck. Their kiss growing more heated with the fuel of extra contact, he could barely remember to breathe through the sensations tearing through his body. As he stepped forward to press himself fully against her she broke away from his mouth just long enough to breathe sweetly against his lips;
"I love you too, Nick"
He could've cried in that moment… at the sheer warmth enveloping his chest upon hearing those little whispered words. Words that he'd carry tattooed across the chambers of his heart for the rest of his days.
Instead Nick's movements became fast and feverish, pushing the straps of her dress down past her breasts, mapping the bare skin he found there with his fingers... his lips... his tongue. Nora matched his pace as if it were a competition and fumbled with the buttons of his jacket, then his dress shirt, before looping her arms underneath the fabric, scratching at his back and sending the most delicious kind of pain skittering up his spine.
She'd shimmied to the very edge of the picnic table by now and he hungrily reclaimed her mouth as he worked the slippery material of her dress up her legs, inch by agonizing inch, and then left it gathered on the surface around her hips. Nora urged him into the soft cradle of her thighs with a push from her heels, and even through the layers of clothing still frustratingly present he could feel how obscenely wet she was… for him. The thought made him moan brokenly against her mouth.
Seemingly of one mind they pulled away from each other in unison. Nick pulling at the flimsy cotton covering her core, while Nora grasped at his belt and the buttons of his trousers. When they were finally free of all obstacles she reached a hand up to cup his stubbled jaw and guided him back to her mouth, simultaneously spurring him forward until the head of his cock brushed against the molten heat of her sex, sending an arc of electricity throughout his body that had him thrusting helplessly against her sodden curls.
Then she reached down and guided him past her slick folds… the entire world collapsing down into that single point where they were as close as they could possibly be to one another. It didn't matter how many times they'd done it in the past, each time felt like the first time… and it was so fucking beautiful that for a brief moment Nick genuinely believed that he'd found Heaven.
He wanted it to last, to savor the feeling of her sweet cunt wrapped around his shaft so perfectly, but his body had other ideas; setting a fast and deep rhythm that had her lying back fully against the table and mewling into the night sky stretched above them. The image before Nick was like something out of a dirty magazine, and it inspired him to hook his arm under one of Nora's trembling legs, affording him the angle he needed to plunge deeper and bottom-out against her cervix, tearing a primal cry from her lips that drove him perilously close to his own release.
Maybe it was the way her hair fanned around her head like a halo, or maybe it was the moon illuminating her bare skin, or the fluttering of her walls around him, signaling her impending orgasm, but the words came tumbling out of their own accord once more;
"Nora, I love you" he breathed heavily. "I love you so fucking much" his last words came out labored as she clenched tightly around him, crying out his name while her body undulated beneath him in the throes of an intense climax. He pitched forward and cried out brokenly as one of the longest orgasms of his life tore through his body, hips jerking with each spurt of seed he left inside her.
Nick then collapsed gently on top of her, careful of his weight against her. His mind was void of anything to say in their post-coital haze, so he nuzzled Nora's collarbone and kissed away the beads of sweat that had gathered there, savoring the feel of her twitching sex and their combined fluids around his softening cock. She began stroking his hair affectionately as she filled the silence for him.
"That was intense… we should get freaky in public more often" she purred into his ear.
His treasured post-coital bliss was suddenly shattered as Nick finally remembered he was in a public park... bare-assed and balls-deep inside the woman he loved, who had her tits hanging out, by the way. He buried his face into the crook of her neck and groaned out of sheer mortification. Nora simply laughed at his display, seemingly unconcerned that they were still within shouting distance of the policeman's ball they'd abandoned in favor of their outdoor shenanigans.
The couple never returned to the ball… it would have been too hard to explain how Nora's lipstick had gotten all over Nick's face, not to mention the collar of his dress shirt, which he was never able to return to the store where he'd rented his tux.
They trudged happily into Nora's apartment just in time to flick on the radio for the latest episode of The Silver Shroud, cuddling together on the sofa as The Mechanist explained his dastardly plan in dramatic detail. Nick tuned out halfway through the monologue though… deep in thought over the woman curled against his chest... hatching a plan of his own.
A week later Nick patted the pocket of his trench coat … the corners of his mouth lifting slightly as he felt the reassuring weight of the velvet box hidden there … a tiny piece of their shared future.
Meanwhile across town, Nora poured over the latest stack of papers to be dropped on her desk … completely unaware that, she too, was carrying around a smaller, far more precious piece of their shared future.
Author's Note: That's the longest bit of smut I've ever written, I hope it doesn't disappoint. I also hope it's not weird that Nick only ever says the F word when they're actually F'ing, the friend I have proof-reading this for me seemed to think so :/
Next Chapter Preview: Nora gets some big news, but the way she receives it has her raging mad, so she ends up making a scene in the middle of Nick's place of work.
Can't wait to read more of your reviews, they inspire me to drink gallons of caffeine and stay up all night writing!