No Better Way
Wordcount: 2,487
Warnings: None really, unless you count a bitchy hostess
A/N: A big, giant, massive thank you to @the-blind-assassin-12 for writing 10.8 & MSFU (bitch this series REALLY needs a title) and letting me play in her sandbox.
this was supposed to be a rant in the tags but then this happened.
You had been looking forward to tonight, it felt like has been too long since you and Nick had been able to go out on a date, a real one, not just walking over hand in hand to the Chinese place a block away, getting takeout and walking back to your place to share the meal on your couch while watching a movie. It seemed like work, or something else, always came up, making you postpone.
That wasn't the case tonight.
You gave yourself a quick once over on the mirror, checking your mascara, and lipstick, running the pad of your thumb on the corner of your mouth to catch any stray color. Then looked at the dress you had slipped in, a dark blue, almost black frock dress that fell just an inch short of your knees, smoothing the material down and double checking for any stray lint you might've caught while getting ready, your mind drifting to a few days ago when he had asked you out.
0o0o0o0o0
You were standing in front of the kitchen sink, phone hooked up to the portable speaker and your favorite playlist on shuffle, scrubbing at a stubborn piece of burnt sauce that would not come off the ceramic dish when you felt Nick’s arms circling your waist, pulling you against his chest, hooking his chin on your shoulder.
“You don't gotta go in Friday, right? How ‘bout I take you out? Some place nice.” he punctuated every word with a kiss, starting on your shoulder and going up your neck, to the spot behind your ear.
“What’s the special occasion Tortano? Am I forgettin’ an anniversary or somethin’?” you asked, rolling your hed to the side to give him beter access to your neck
“No, there ain’t no occasion” he said as his hands started to roam, his left hand slipping under the loose shirt that you had thrown on when you had gotten home, his touching just a tease, “Can’t I just take my girl out cuz I wanna? Cuz she deserves it? Cuz you do, you deserve the world.”
His hand move and gripped with purpose, coming up to cup at your breast as the other teased the skin above the elastic of your shorts,
"Nick we can't ...you still shouldn't" a moan broke free as he sunk his teeth on the crook of your neck, "shouldn't be doing any strenuous ...you'll irritate the stiches."
“Not gonna do anythin’ to irritate the stitches,” he murmured into the shell of your ear as his hand slipped past the elastic of your shorts, “promise.”
0o0o0o0o0
"You look real nice tonight," his voice pulling you out of the memory, you looked at him through the mirror, his eyes giving you a slow once over, the glint in them adding fuel to the warmth that was spreading through your body at the memory, his tongue coming out to swipe at his lips, "then again you always look nice."
You're one to talk, you thought as you saw him struggle with the ends of the dark tie that completed the charcoal gray ensemble that he took out every once in a while.
"You clean up real nice too Tortano." You said, smiling as you walked over to stand in front of him, gently pushing his hands away and taking over the knotting of his tie. After a few quick loops and pulls you were nestling and adjusting the knot to the base of his throat. He pulled you into his arms, resting his hand on your hips, leaning down to press his lips against yours and pulling away before the kiss could get too heated.
“C’mon, we better get going if we wanna make our reservation.”
He took your hand and walked you out of the house, taking a minute to make sure that everything was locked, testing the door knob and deadbolt a few times. Then turned and rested a hand on the small of your back and guided you to his car, opening the door for you to climb in, closing it then walking around the back and climbing in himself.
You made small talk as he drove, talking about some of the people you had to deal with at the department store, groaning when you told him about one particular customer that had wasted a good portion of your time asking for the exact thing that you were handing him, it wasn’t until you turned the box around that he accepted that it had been in fact what he was looking for.
“Soon, they ain’t gonna be any of that. Ain’t gonna be dealin’ with jerks, or restockin’ shelves, soon, you’re gonna be savin’ lives and helpin’ people.”
He said as he took your hand in his and brought it to his lips, placing a quick kiss to the back of it, a smile pulling at the corners or your lips. The scenery outside your window changed gradually, until you were in the nicer part of the city,
“Nick? I thought you said we were going to--”
“All I said was I was takin’ you out, never sad where to.”
Your eyes felt like saucers as he pulled up to the restaurant, stopping at the entrance and climbing out, walking past a kid in dark slacks, white shirt and burgundy vest. You thought you saw the kid give Nick a look, the kind you give the gum at the bottom of your shoe but it was gone in a flash as he climbed in to take Nick’s place behind the wheel. If Nick saw it he didn’t say anything, it bothered you though. Who was he to look at Nicky that way, he didn't know him from eve, didn't know--couldn't even begin to guess the things Nick had gone through and overcome.
When you saw Nick rest his hand on the arm of the second valet, nudging him to the side saying a quick "I got 'er." You smiled and decided you weren’t gonna let some snotty nosed kid ruin your evening with Nick.
He placed your hand on the crook of his elbow and walked you up the handful of steps, through the large glass doors and towards the hostess, who was directing another couple.
When she turned back and her eyes fell on you her smile faltered, looking between the two of you, the way her eyes scrutinized you made you feel like she knew you had bought your dress and heels on sale after homecoming season, that the makeup you wore was all bought at a drugstore, that the stone in your earrings were cubic zirconia. Her judgemental stare making you feel out of place even before you stepped in.
“Nick. Tortano.” He said when she didn’t ask for his name.
She turned her attention at Nick, the corners of their mouths lifting is a faux smile,
"I'm sorry …sir," she said give him a once over, her eyes resting on the ink that peeked out from the buttoned collar of his shirt for a second too long, "we don't have a reservation under that name."
You noticed the way Nick's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Check again." His voice hard and commanding, in your neck of the woods the look he was giving her would've been enough to make crowds part like the red sea. Here, the hostess didn't even bat an eye.
The hostess gave the book in front of her a cursory glance, then met Nick's eyes, saying again in that same false polite tone,
"No reservations with that name….sir."
You could see the nerve in Nick's cheek jump and it never meant anything good. You squeezed his arm, leaning over and whispering so that only he could hear,
"C'mon Nicky, we can go somewhere else."
"We shouldn't have'ta" he said, never looking away from the hostess and her holier than thou stare.
"There probably aren't any tables available," you tried, pulling a little more insistently on his arm.
"That's why I called and made a reservation, weeks ago."
"C'mon Nicky, let's just go, this place isn't for us."
That made him look at you, you could see the rebuttal on the tip of his tongue but the hostess was quicker,
"You should listen to your date, this place isn't for ...people like you."
Nick's head turned back to the hostess so fast you swore he gave himself whiplash, saw and felt the tensing in his shoulders,
"Nick...please" you whispered, pressing your forehead to his shoulder and felt the second the fight drained out of him, his arm coming up to wrap around your shoulder, as his lips press against your temple and guided you out of the restaurant.
You didn't know what to make of the fact that the valet already had Nick's car ready and waiting, holding out the keys for Nick to take. You took it for the small blessing that it was as you climbed into the passenger seat , grateful that you didn't need to stand around waiting in this place anymore than you had to, as Nick took the keys from the valet a little more forcefully than was strictly necessary, you wanted to tell him that it wasn’t the kids fault, he was just doing his job taking and bringing the cars around, but you thought you saw the kid turned up his nose at Nick as he climbed in, put the car in gear and sped away.
The ride back was a quiet one, you wanted to tell him that it was okay, that you could just go somewhere else but the white knuckle grip he had on the steering wheel made you pause. You knew Nick would never take out his frustrations on you, but you didn’t want to add to whatever it was he was feeling right now.
You ended up at the diner a few blocks from your place, walking hand in hand through the heavy glass door, the familiar sound of the bell tinkling overhead felt like a soothing balm. Carl, or as everyone around these part called him Uncle Carl, looked up from his incessant wiping of the counter and whistled,
"Ey Nicky, where you kids coming from all dolled up like that?"
Nick didn't answer, just kept walking to your usual booth, hand slipping out of yours without resistance as you walked over to the counter, your heels sounding too loud on the linoleum floor as Carl looked after him.
"Bad night?" He asked when you leaned on the polished formica, letting out a sigh and a small nod, not wanting to revisit in any way shape or form the events from earlier in the evening.
"Usual?" Carl asked when you didn't say anything.
"Yeah, thanks Carl." You pushed off the counter and walked over to the booth, slipping into the seat across from him. You sat in silence for a few minutes, Nick not looking anywhere other than his folded hands.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, a beat later.
"Nick?"
"I'm sorry… the way that bit--"
"Nick, that wasn't your fault." You interrupted him, trying to catch his eye..
"We shoulda stayed, shoulda--" he argued and you could hear him winding himself up again
"No, Nick we shouldn't've," you reached over and took his hands in yours, making him look up and meet your gaze for the first time since you left the restaurant, "any place that...treats anyone like that lady did, isn't a place for us."
Nick squeezed your hand, bringing it up and kissing the inside of your wrist.
“‘Sides, I read that the portions are small, over priced, and that they serve their meat raw!’ that got a chuckle out of him and it warmed your heart to see the cloudy expression lift from his face.
"How'd I get so lucky gettin' a girl like you?"
"I dunno Tortano, but you ain't gettin rid'a me"
Nick smiled to himself, and low, so low you couldn't be sure you heard him right, said,
"That's the plan."
You were gonna ask what he had said when Carl came by the booth, setting down a couple plates of pie and coffee, and silverware, tucking the round plastic tray under his arm.
"Cheer up Nicky, girl like this," he said, nodding to you, "she's worth the trouble."
Nick's smile widen, finally reaching his eyes, wrinkling the corners and turning it into his megawatt smile that never failed to leave you slightly breathless.
"Don't I know it." He said, holding your gaze as Carl patted him on the back.
"You kids need anything else, let me know."
"Thanks Carl" you said, picking up a fork as he turned and walked away, across from you Nick did the same.
You eat in companionable silence, soundtracked by the intermittent sound of metal gently clicking against porcelain, Its nice and truth be told you preferred it a million times over being in a stuffy room with countless other strangers.
You were halfway through your coffee when Nick set his cup of coffee harder than was strictly necessary making you look up from where you were chasing a stray piece of crust.
"Nick?" You asked as he wiped his mouth and balling the soiled paper napkin in his hand and dropping next to his plate with his own half eaten slice, pulling out his phone from the inside pocket of his jacket, flicking and touching the screen as he slid out of the vinyl seat, holding out his free hand to you.
"C'mon."
"Nicky, what's wrong?" You asked, setting your fork down and taking his hand, he gently pulled you to your feet with one final press to the screen of his phone, he set it face down on the table, pulling you close and wrapping his free arm around your waist, yours coming to rest on his chest, and he began to sway as the sound of a trumpet started to pour from the tiny speaker, a soft piano and bass joining a few notes later.
"Nuthin's wrong," he whispered against your ear, his voice husky, making you feel warm all over, "as’a matter’a fact everythin's right."
His arm tightened around your waist as he swayed you to the soft melody, his forehead pressed against yours as he shifted his weight from foot to foot as he spun the both of you in a small circle, pulling back so that he could spin you, then pulling you back, placing the hand he was holding around his neck, your other hand coming up to join it, as both of his arms wrapped around your waist, keeping you close as you continued to sway.
You had been looking forward to tonight's date, and even though it probably wasn't what Nick had originally planned, you couldn't think of no better way to end the evening, slow dancing with Nick in some hole in the wall diner.