Today's chapter is brought to you by the letter F, one of my favorite letters because without it we can't spell foreshadowing or fuck. This is actually a pretty short chapter, though it took me quite some time to write. I don't know, I feel pretty bleh about this chapter.
But it's mostly just to try and get a different perspective on these losers, and do some character exposition and blah. But, we get to learn a little bit more about Nicole's past and family and the like so woo!
Anyway, thanks for the favorites/follows/reviews. I honestly love you people so much.
Adara.
Chapter Thirteen:
May 01, 1985, Location: Nanny O'Brien's Pub, Washington DC
She didn't often allow herself to be drawn out to pubs but if Emily Dugan had to put her thumb on her favorite she would say that Nanny O'Brien's was definitely one of her favorites. Not to mention the fact that her best friend had just gotten engaged and they'd gone out to celebrate.
It was a nice distraction from the tests she had to grade when she got home.
"Oh my, look at the guy who just walked in!" Carrie gasped, lacquered nails digging into the material of her blouse. "He is a total dreamboat!"
Emily lifted her gaze curiously to the man in question, eyes widening as they traveled up… and up and up. He was absolutely huge, easily passing six feet, and cut. His biceps had to be the size of her whole head, and wearing only a tight t-shirt and a pair of jeans she could definitely agree with her friend.
"I would love to get to know him a little better." Emily laughed, turning back to her drink as they watched Faye and Lisa belting out the latest hit from Madonna. Her friend looked absolutely blissful, though that may have something to do with the fact that her boyfriend of nearly ten years had finally popped the big question.
Of course, as was known to happen in situations involving engagements and alcohol, Emily's thought's turned inward as she inspected her whisky glass. To say that she had hit a dry spell out of college would be an understatement; it had been almost five years and there had been a few boyfriends but nothing worth mentioning. Unable to stop herself from thinking it, Emily wondered if she was ever actually going to get married… she certainly hoped so. Teaching high school mathematics could be a pain–and make her hate teenagers–but she loved children and wanted a family of her own.
The problem being that she couldn't find a guy that she didn't end up wanting to punch after a few days.
"You and me both, sister. I–oh crap. I have to be getting home!" Carrie had chanced a look at her sparkling, rhinestoned watch and was now hurrying into motion. "Shoot, I was supposed to help Danny get his presentation ready for work tomorrow!"
"I'll tell the other two that you said goodbye?" Emily offered with a snort, being drawn out her thoughts to watch her friend slip into her coat and grab her bag.
"You're the best!" A playful smirk crossed Carrie's face then, her dark lips pulling back into a smirk. "And go introduce yourself to Mr. Sexy, Em. He's been giving you those 'come hither' eyes since he walked in."
Emily arched a skeptical brow, her eyes flicking to the stranger who had settled down a few seats away under the guise of watching her friend leave. True to her word–and she really shouldn't doubt Carrie in these things–their gaze met and she saw that his eyes were such an odd shade of brown that they looked almost orange. She immediately felt the blush rising to her cheeks, turning back to her drink and taking a gulp that sent alcohol burning down her throat.
"Can I get another?" She called to the bartender, consciously aware of the fact that Lisa and Faye were now doing an encore presentation. Not for the first time in her life she felt herself looking at her friends pleading for a tactical assist that they weren't giving.
"Strong drink." A low voice purred, and when did he get so close?
"My family is Irish." Emily explained, "I was practically raised on whisky."
Not true, as her mother would have beaten both her and her father black and blue if she'd been caught drinking before she was eighteen, but whereas her dad preferred bourbon she had always loved the brew.
"Irish?" He seemed to be rolling the word around his tongue, and Emily couldn't help but shiver at his accent. She could listen to him talk all day. "Ah, you mean Inisfail; the Emerald Isles."
"Haven't heard anyone refer to it like that this century, but yeah." She snorted, swirling the ice around her glass. "I'm Emily Dugan."
As propriety demanded, she turned to offer her hand and found herself face to face with the man. His hair was such a unique shade of dark red, the shoulder length strands framing a strong jawed face and lips that she immediately wanted to start nibbling on.
Her face had to be visible from space, it was so bright.
The handsome stranger took her hand, lifting it up to press it against his lips as he smiled and… oh Lord.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Emily Dugan. My people call me Sutr."
IOI
September 18, 2011, Location: 49 Warren Street, Atlanta GA
"You're up early." Nicole looked up from the piano, her fingers stilling over the white keys as they focused on her mom's approaching figure. It was an old instrument, one of the few things that Emily had actively requested when her mom had passed away, and it wasn't entirely surprising to find her daughter sitting there. It had been the piano she'd learned to play on after all.
"Up early?" The corner of her daughter's lips lifted into a slight quirk. "Or up late?"
She shook her head slightly at that, and should have known better. Nicole didn't wake up early unless it was for work reasons; Emily could still remember nudging her daughter awake from where she'd fallen asleep at the table waiting for the school bus.
"You haven't been sleeping well." It wasn't a question, because the answer was plain as day; Emily Walker had known her daughter for 26 years, had been through everything and anything imaginable with her, and could read her like an open book.
"Nightmares." Nicole confirmed, her fingers dropping back lightly on the piano to tap out a quick slur of notes. "Not that it should come as a huge surprise."
And it didn't, at least not to the older woman. Her daughter had suffered from them since she was five, tossing and turning and waking up in the middle of the night crying though she had no idea why. After the… accident, the night terrors had gotten worse. To the point where, in those first few months, Nicole had been forced to stay completely at the Quarry in a more or less fireproof room.
They had walked on eggshells around her daughter, and Nicole had been treated not as a child, but as an unstable… thing. It had been hell for both of them, mostly because SHIELD hadn't wanted her to go in and comfort her daughter in the midst of her terrors. Not that it had stopped her, and Emily could still remember the burns on her arms that had mostly healed. After that, when Frigga had come promising answers and peace… well, it had seemed too good to be true and she had thought that the woman was just trying to take her daughter away to run tests on her.
That first summer had been the hardest, not only was her daughter gone but they'd needed to lie to SHIELD personnel the entire time.
After Nicole had come back, however, it was like a miracle. The six year old still had nightmares, but she didn't wake up as often and she had been able to control her abilities better. Everyone had been astounded by the sudden control, but the family had all remained close-lipped about what had happened. Since then her daughter had only gone on to see more horrific things in her career with SHIELD so it made since that she would continue to suffer from nightmares.
"Tell me about them." Emily went into the kitchenette, reaching for the coffee canister.
Nicole began the introduction of A Thousand Miles, a song that the woman hadn't heard in more than a few years. "Loki is dead, mom."
Emily paused, watching the individual particulates of the ground coffee as it rolled down the spoon. She remembered vividly the breakup, an unseasonable thunderstorm bringing her daughter home one August night soaking wet and sobbing. She had her opinions of the man in question, opinions that had already been voiced several times over and now was not the time for those opinions.
Now was the time when her daughter was hurting and in need of comfort.
"How are you doing?" The older woman asked quietly, adding the coffee into the machine before turning it on.
"Weird." Nicole answered, her fingers drifting listlessly over the keys before dwindling off again. "Like I've already said my goodbyes, but now it's just… shit."
"Language." Emily tutted half-heartedly, a very old argument. Nicole had inherited her grandfather's mouth, as well as the defective filter. "You know how I felt about the man, but… he was your first love. It never really goes away."
More than that he had been her best friend, and as someone who had been in that same boat Emily knew how badly her daughter had to be hurting. Right now the older woman didn't see the 26 year old field agent who had been all around the globe; she saw her daughter, six years old with skinned knees and a bruise on her cheek from when she'd 'fallen' on the playground. Granted, it was often hard for Emily to differentiate between the adult and her little girl, but that was something that could be said about all parents.
"No, it really doesn't." Nicole agreed, dragging a hand down her face. "I just can't believe it. For multiple reasons I suppose; I thought he'd live forever I guess. It's not even the physical relationship that I miss–I mean, I miss it but we broke up years ago–it's the friendship. It feels like that part of my life is finally, fully over and I didn't have any choice in it."
Emily left the kitchen in a few steps, rounding the counter to pull her daughter into a close hug. It broke her heart to watch the tears leaking out of those tightly shut eyes, and she could feel Nicole shuddering as she clung to her mother like she had when she was just a little girl.
She was so proud of her daughter, of the strong woman that she'd become, but it was impossible to look at Nicole and not see everything that she had been through. Nicole had been such a happy child, carefree and hanging on her grandfather's every word whenever he was around, but she had been bullied in school. And they'd had no idea, because Nicole had never uttered a single word; she'd just stayed quiet and if she had come home with more bruises than usual the child had just played it off as stumbles on the playground. Emily still felt like a failure of a parent for never realizing that something was up until the accident.
A six year old should never have the weight of another person's life on her shoulders and after that Nicole had become withdrawn and terrified of herself.
SHIELD had helped, as had moving to Georgia, but it wasn't until she'd gone to Asgard for the first time that summer that Emily had seen a real difference. Nicole had come home smiling and excited and unable to stay quiet about everything that she had seen and experienced.
She thought her heart was going to burst out of her chest when Nicole had decided to go into Ops and become an agent of SHIELD, remembered arguing until they were both blue in the face about it. Against her deepest fears though, Nicole had become more than a competent agent.
It wasn't often that Nicole let her emotions get the best of her, and Emily could count on one hand how many times she'd seen her only child actually crying since graduating high school.
"I'm so sorry baby girl." The older woman soothed, stroking her fingers through the tangle of red curls. Nicole let out a quiet whimper, hiding her face as she grieved and accepting the physical comfort of her mother.
"I just wish that I could at least talk to him, or see him, one last time." Nicole sighed, arms tight around her back.
Emily snuggled her daughter close, wishing that there was something she could do to soothe that heartache. The worst part of it was that they'd been forced to keep Nicole's trips to Asgard a complete secret, so outside of herself and her father there was nobody that her child could really talk to about it. "What if you could? What would you say to him?"
"I don't know." Came the quiet answer, followed by a bitter chuckle. "I'd be caught between wanting answers, just hugging him, or punching him in his stupid head. I wish there was something I could have done, some way I could have known… maybe if I hadn't have left?"
"Don't do that to yourself, sweetie." Her voice was stern as she hugged her daughter closer. "What happened was not your fault at all. I know how badly it hurts to lose your best friend, but there was nothing that you could have done for him."
Nicole didn't answer, and they stayed like that for a few minutes until the aroma of coffee filled the house and she could hear the unladylike gurgle of her daughter's stomach. Nicole pulled back after a second, swiping at her face to scrub away the tear tracks with the sleeve of her shirt.
"I love you." Emily smiled down at her daughter, at least until Nicole stood up and then she needed to crane her neck. "Now, want to help me make some breakfast?"
"Sure, I'm starving." Like her mother, Nicole liked to have something to do with her hands and when it had been just the two of them the pair had always made their meals together. "What's on the menu?"
"Pancakes?" Emily offered, pulling open the cabinet doors. "Hand me that pan."
Her daughter reached up to grab the pan that she'd been using to make pancakes since before they'd left DC, as well as a few other pots because pancakes didn't mean just pancakes. Pancakes also meant grits, fruit and eggs, as well as toast.
"Can we make those—what did Papou always call them?—cowboy eggs? Cowboy toast? The toast with the egg cooked right inside it?" Nicole asked suddenly, pulling the loaf of bread out of the breadbox. "I haven't had that in so long."
"I don't see why not." Emily shrugged, more than a little relieved that her daughter seemed to be back to her old self. "But I'm not making it; I always have trouble getting it to flip properly. And use the Texas toast, it'll hold more."
"Yes ma'am." Nicole smirked, swapping out the bread bags as they got to work. It was a familiar routine, the two women in the kitchen and even though it had been little over half a year since she'd seen her daughter—her and Jack had come up to visit during the holidays because of Nicole's work—they fell back into the swing of things quickly.
"Hand me the pecans." Emily called, whipping the batter around the mixing bowl as Nicole dug out the maple syrup and brown sugar.
Lord help her, Emily had no idea where her daughter had gotten such a sweet tooth.
"Here you go." The pecans were in wholes, and soon the kitchen was filled with the sound of chopping as she halved, and then quartered them. In spite of the fact that she had been born in Montana and practically raised in DC, she had taken to the southern way of life easily. Including the choice of cuisine, though she put most of the blame of that on Jack. "Though I think chocolate chip would be better."
"That is because you eat candy like it's nobody's business." The older woman scowled at her child, bumping the much taller woman—and that just wasn't fair—out of the way. "How you managed to avoid getting cavities as a child is beyond me."
"I'll be bushed if I know!" Nicole added less than helpfully, "Just lucky I guess. Let me get some of that coffee before the old men come and take it all. Steve's another one of those weirdoes that likes it black."
"Weird, are we?" Another voice growled playfully, making both Emily and Nicole turn to the entry way of the hall with a smile.
"Yes, Papou, you are definitely weird." Her father was wearing his familiar and ratty old robe, as well as a pair of striped pajama pants as he walked into the kitchen, rustling his granddaughter's hair before reaching for one of the mugs.
"Morning dad." Emily replied more demurely, pausing to kiss her father on the cheek before returning to the rapidly increasing stack of pancakes. "Did you sleep well?"
"That mattress is too soft, felt like I was sinking right through it." He groused, though the twinkle in his eye—and the fact that it was the same complaint she'd heard every morning for the past week—took any heat out of the words. "Who else is up?"
"So far just us. Jack doesn't have work today and you know how he'll stay in bed until noon if he can get away with it." She loved her husband, she really did, but Jack could be the laziest bag of bones in the morning. "Come help with breakfast."
"Oh!" Nicole bounced on the balls of her feet as she cradled her cup. "Yeah! You can make the cowboy toast!"
"Alright, alright give me a second to get some caffeine in me." Dum Dum snorted, rolling his eyes at the two women. "You're as pushy as your grandma was, kiddo. It was always 'do this, do that' and 'Tim come fix the steps' or 'the gutter's clogged again'. Never got a moment's peace."
"Well yeah, dad." Emily smirked, stirring the grits as they simmered in their pot. "Clean gutters are crucial for preventing roof decay and excess water around the foundation of a house."
"Hush, missy, and gimme some room." She retreated to the other side of the kitchen, where Nicole was currently in the process of peeling and cutting up a cantaloupe.
It was somewhat scary watching her daughter work with the knife in quick, brutally efficient strokes and not for the first time Emily was reminded of the fact that her daughter was, in fact, a very deadly woman. At least until she pushed her lips together and made a high pitched buzzing noise; any intimidation that the older woman might have felt went right out the window when she remembered that Nicole was one of the biggest dorks she'd ever met.
"So, how's Tony? We saw what happened at the Department of Homeland Security on the news." Dum Dum asked, cracking an egg. "Robots, huh?"
"And people too. It was the most exciting lunch break that I've had in a long time, honestly. But I think Tony was happy with the chance to test out his suit." Emily tightened her hold on the knife she was using, chopping a little more forcefully than necessary into the melon.
Her daughter could handle herself in a fight—of that she had no doubt—but it didn't stop her from wanting to stab the bastards herself.
"Bet you enjoyed Ross being there." Even after being more than twenty years retired from active duty at SHIELD her dad still managed to get access to classified information from the facility.
Nicole shrugged her shoulder, sliding the cubed fruit neatly into one of the larger bowls. "He wasn't so bad."
Her lips twitched into a mirthless grin. "I suspect he was more interested in getting his grubby paws on Steve than anything else."
"Still wants a hold of that super soldier serum?" Emily asked, more than familiar—from both her father and her daughter's ranting—with the General's reputation. With both members of her family rising to high level agent status, Emily had picked up information that wasn't typical of someone with strictly civilian status. Not that she had ever tried to use it of course; she knew the importance of SHIELD's work and keeping her mouth shut.
And no doubt Thaddeus Ross was more interested in Steve's blood than he was in anything else that the super soldier could do. After what had happened with Dr. Banner—information that she technically wasn't supposed to have—she didn't doubt that Ross was playing at some other angle.
"Ugh, yeah." Nicole chewed on her lower lip, nose wrinkling in a classically torn expression. "The thing is though that while we were on our way to the meetings Steve asked me about leaving SHIELD, and then Ross started pitching the idea that he should go back to the army. And, like, I don't want to tell him what to do or anything, but I just know that something bad would happen if he gets placed in any way under Ross' command."
"He'd be used as little more than a glorified weapon." Emily could see the concern on her daughter's face, how much she cared about Captain Rogers, and a small smile curved her lips.
"Steve can be dumb as a box of rocks sometimes, string bean, but he's not an idiot." Dum Dum was stacking toast on the plate, looking unconcerned at Nicole's worries. "He'll make the right call."
"So much concern for your second favorite?" Gabe offered wryly, making his way out of the bathroom and—unlike the rest of them—already dressed for the day. "Pass me a cup of the good stuff."
"Only second favorite?" Steve yawned as he emerged from the room he and Nicole were sharing with an extreme case of bed head and Chauncey following at his heels. "I'm hurt, who's my competition?"
"Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes." Gabe and Emily answered in unison before Nicole had the chance to, watching as her face turned bright red.
Embarrassing her daughter was one of life's few pleasures.
"Is that so?" There was a sleepy grin on Steve's face, and Nicole looked like she wanted nothing more than to drown herself in the pot of grits that she was taking off of the stove.
"No." She barked, voice coming out more like an undignified squeak. "My favorite was, and always will be, my Papou."
"Jimmy was her second favorite," Dum Dum added helpfully, helping his daughter set the table. "Nicky always promised that she was going to invent a time machine so that she could go back and save him."
A bittersweet smile lifted the corner of her father's lips at that; he'd always spoken so fondly of Bucky Barnes, the unintentional kid brother that he'd sort of adopted during the war. They'd all been close during the war, sure, but before Captain America both her dad and Bucky had been in the same platoon. They'd both just been two kids straight out of Brooklyn when they'd been captured by HYDRA.
"And then they were going to get married." Gabe offered, causing laughter to fill the entire kitchen.
"Excuse me as I hang myself." Nicole muttered, mixing the brown sugar and syrup into the grits before setting them down next to the stack of pancakes.
"You did promise that I was going to get embarrassing stories." Steve chimed, his shoulders still shaking with laughter. "And to be honest, I've already seen the bears so there's no lower you can sink."
"Moooom!" Nicole whined, crossing her arms, "Steve is being mean to me!"
"Oh. Oh no, whatever shall you do?" She drawled with a smirk, walking backwards so that she could wink at her daughter as she headed to the hall. "See, I'd love to help, but I've got to go wake up your dad for breakfast."
"Traitor!" Emily laughed as she blew a kiss to her daughter, turning on her heel as she headed to the master bedroom. Their room faced west to keep out the morning light, and with the curtains drawn it was more than a little dim. Jack was asleep with his head under the pillow and the blankets pulled up to his chin and one arm dangling off of the edge.
It was hard to think that they'd been married for ten years already, dating even longer than that. She'd met him during the summer, a few days after Nicole had gone to Asgard; Emily had wound up at the park where she and her daughter always went towards the end of the year, where Jack had been watching two of his nephews. At the time she had never imagined even saying hello to the huge man, let alone going out on a date but after helping him get gum out of his beard they'd definitely hit it off.
And now she couldn't even begin to imagine a life without him.
Emily had been so worried about introducing her somewhat moody ten year old daughter to him when she'd gotten back, but Nicole had taken to him quickly. And Jack had been amazing with her daughter, though they'd had a bit of a rough start with him constantly travelling for his job. She had been horrified to hear about his injury, had ended up driving to the hospital to visit him, where he'd surprised her by saying that it was the best thing that could have happened to him.
Emily had been beyond thrilled when he had asked her to marry him, and she was as happy with her scruffy Cajun now as she had been when she'd first met him.
"Up and at 'em big man," She reached for one of her pillows, whacking him across the backside. "Breakfast is ready and if you don't hurry there won't be any left to eat."
"Mmm," The blankets rumbled slightly, and the dangling arm shifted. "C'mon cher. Come back to bed."
Like her father, Emily was a morning person and once she was awake, she was awake no matter how much anyone pleaded otherwise. So she whacked at the lump of blankets a few more times, laughter bubbling on her lips. "Or you could get out of bed. I made pancakes, your favorite."
She had made the mistake of allowing herself to get too close because, with a flash of movement Jack snaked an arm out and was pulling her into the bed. Emily let out a startled shriek that quickly dissolved into giggles as she was tickled mercilessly.
"Pancakes, eh?" Jack grinned down at her, pressing a light kiss to her neck that had the woman squirming as his beard tickled her even more. "I guess an argument could be made for me to get up then."
"I would hope so, before everyone else eats them all." She pushed against the heavy shoulders of her husband. Jack grumbled slightly as he rolled onto his back, sitting up and dragging his hand down his face. "Let's go lazy bones, we've got a busy day ahead of us."
"One of these days, babydoll, I'm gonna teach you how to well and truly relax." Jack promised, pulling his wife in for a kiss before he stood up and headed to the bathroom.
"So long as you do that after we get everything ready for this party, I'll be happy." She called, shutting the door behind her on her way back to the kitchen. Voices were carrying easily down the hall, and she could hear Nicole's over the others.
Her daughter was sitting so that she was positioned in the corner of the table, her back at the juncture between the wall and the bar, with her fork waving in the air. "We needed a distraction, right? So Bobbi was chatting up Bane's buddy–oh, you know I forget his name–who had no idea that I knew her."
The others were watching with rapt expressions, and Emily found herself slowing her steps as she listened to her daughter relate another of her exploits as an agent of SHIELD.
"I've got Bane and his thugs hot on my tail, they realized what was up and were none too pleased, so I walk up to his friend and start kissing him. Bobbi knew immediately what was up and grabbed my shoulder to jerk me back. I got an appletini splashed in my face and slapped so hard I saw stars, but the ensuing fight that came afterwards was more than enough to cover our escape." Nicole finished with a flourish, spearing a piece of melon onto her fork.
Dum Dum let out a boisterous laugh, patting the youngest member of the table on the shoulder as Gabe shook his head in amusement. "That was quick thinking, String Bean."
"I like to think I'm fast on my feet." Nicole smirked, leaning back in her chair.
"You're definitely adaptable, I'll give you that darling." Emily smiled, sitting next to her father and sliding over the plate of pancakes. "You weren't planning on doing anything today were you?"
"Yeah mom, gonna do so much stuff on my vacat–ow! Unnecessary." Nicole jerked back from where she had connected her foot with her daughter's shin.
"Not as unnecessary as your sass, little miss." The older woman drawled, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear to keep it from getting in the syrup. "I ask because I need to pick up some things while I have the day off and I was hoping you and Steve might accompany me."
Nicole brightened at that, perking up in her seat. "Oh sure! I mean, you don't mind do you blondie?"
"Not at all." Steve replied somewhat shyly, neatly taking a bite out of his toast. "What sort of things do you need?"
"Most of it's pretty simple, tissue paper and craft supplies. But we also need some hardware; Jack wants to get the trellis fixed up and a set up built for the music system." Emily answered. She wasn't entirely sure about the specifics, but her husband had given her a list. "And I need some new pots to transplant my strawberries."
"And while you three are out, I'm gonna get to work clearing out some of the brush down on the property where it's gotten overgrown. You up for giving me a hand, Tim?"
"Sure thing pal, I've still got some life in these old bones." It was eerie to hear those words coming out of her hundred year old, war veteran father, especially when he looked no older than he had when Nicole had been born.
"Are you sure you don't want to stay another night Gabe?" Nicole asked, her eyes big and wide and pouting in a way that had gotten her an extra serving of dessert on more than one occasion. "Steve and I can move out to the tree-house."
"Uh-uh mon cher, that ol' thing ain't safe." Jack warned, "After those tornadoes back in '08, the foundation is in serious need of fixing. It ain't been a big concern now that there ain't many little ones running around."
"Plus Carla's already on her way up." Gabe finished, chuckling at the look on the younger woman's face. It was pretty funny, Emily had to admit; her daughter was a mix of affronted and horrified at the same time. "But don't worry sugar bean, we'll be back up next weekend for the party."
"That's a relief, it wouldn't be a party without you, Gabe." Emily smiled at the man, happy to at least have part of her family all under one roof. And her brother would be flying in later in the evening; it had been a long time since she'd actually seen Mark. Between his and Ellen's busy work schedules the two could barely scrape together enough time for a vacation together.
"If you'd like, sir, I can help with some things once we get back?" Steve offered. "My uncle used to have a cabin up near Keuka Lake and we'd help him fix it up."
Jack looked up from his breakfast with a grin, nodding. "Sure thing, son. I sure as hell won't say no to a spare pair of hands."
"We've got a game plan then! I'm gonna go get a shower real quickly then, you have a list right ma?" Nicole was on her feet, clearing her dishes and taking them to the sink.
"Everything that we need, yeah." Emily answered, smiling at her daughter. Nicole nodded, pausing to wrap Gabe up in a quick hug and pressing a kiss to his cheek.
"In case Carla gets here before I get out." The redhead explained, before bounding down the hall to her room.
Emily just watched her daughter with a bemused expression on her face.
IOI
"What do you think, blondie?" God help her, but Emily remembered why she hated shopping with her daughter.
Nicole was currently standing with either of her feet in a large planter designed to look like a boot.
"I think you're being ridiculous." He answered, shrugging his shoulders in a hopeless gesture as Emily looked over at him. Not that she could do anything; she had long since come to terms with the fact that her child was a five year old trapped in the body of an adult.
"Really?" It was a personal miracle that they had even stumbled upon a pot that size, let alone that Nicole had managed to fit herself inside without getting them thrown out. "Because I think that I just need a sunflower or daisy on my head to complete the look. Really finish off my aesthetic."
"Sweetie," Emily stressed, her words coming out strained as she resisted the urge to throw something at her child. "Please get out of the giant boot before I'm forced to do something I'll regret."
"Please listen to your mother." Steve sighed, dropping his face down into his hand as he avoided look at her.
"No?" Nicole sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes at the pair as she rested her hands on her hips. "I mean you know what they say about people with big shoes…"
Emily glared at her daughter, wondering how bad it would be if she were to abandon her daughter in the middle of a Lowe's. "No."
"Gosh you guys are killing me. Alright, fine, I'm getting out." Nicole carefully wriggled her feet, balancing on one leg as she lifted out of one boot before switching to the other. "What all do we still need, anyway?"
"Well, we've got the wood and everything but I still need some mulch." She answered, hence the reason why they were in the gardening section.
"Brown, black, or grey?" Nicole asked, jerking her thumb towards the bags.
Emily looked at her options, eyes scanning over the different brands and colors. "No, the red; yeah that kind I need three bags to fix up the back garden."
Nicole bent low, fingers digging under the thick plastic bag for a better grip as she lifted. The motion was smooth and quick and she watched her daughter quickly toss the bag of mulch to Steve, who in turn settled it neatly on the flat cart that they'd grabbed. The two worked well together, and Emily couldn't help but think that they actually looked good together too. There was a small part of her, the part that wanted to see her daughter happy—in a wedding dress and with children of her own—that thought that Nicole and Steve looked really good together.
A smile broke out across Emily's face at the errant thought, one that she probably would never end up voicing. Nicole was going to have enough to deal with from all of Jack's well-meaning family during the party in regards to the truth of her relationship with Steve, and didn't need her mother trying to play match-maker as well. Not to mention the fact that Nicole had a tendency to get very… testy whenever someone brought up her love life.
Still… Emily hadn't seen her daughter this genuinely playful in quite some time, and it was a nice change. Whether anything came out of their friendship, Steve was definitely good for Nicole and she believed that her daughter was good for the super soldier as well.
