Nicolo di Genova (
peace_inthe_violence) wrote2020-09-09 02:21 pm
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Malta

This is a fairy tale of blood and bullets
It is the story of three men and three women and a small island between Italy and Africa.
This is a story about tragedy and pain, about healing and hope, but mostly it is about
love.
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It was a companionable silence right up until she found the culprit she'd been looking for, "There you are you little bastard." It wasn't loud, but it was sudden and it was sharp and she flicked the hornworm, a finger-thick, almost four-inch behemoth of a thing off of the stalk it was pretending to be part of with a quick movement of the stick she'd been poking at the leaves with, the kind of movement that was ingrained from practice, and once the pest hit the ground she just as quickly stomped it.
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Then she broke the silence with an exclamation and Nicky was up and on his feet in a heartbeat, a knife the size of his thumb in his hand. It was small, but it looked wicked sharp...and where had he pulled it from, anyway? It didn't fold, so it wasn't in his pocket. He was wearing sandals, so not an ankle sheath.
It took several breaths for his pulse to start to calm back down, though his eyes still roamed the horizon, looking for threats that he was only about 95% sure weren't actually there.
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She pointed at the plant she'd flicked it off of, the only one in the row that didn't have beans growing up along the cage as a sort of shield. Truthfully she wasn't sure if it actually worked that way or not, but it was what her mom had always done and it always seemed to work, "Not as protected as the others, it went in later."
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"Sorry. I guess I'm a little on edge." At all times, but he didn't add that part.
Another couple of breaths and he was able to finally relax enough to kneel back down. The mystery knife was still in his hand, but at least now he was using it to cut bunches of herbs to add to the basket of tomatoes and beans.
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"I think we all are, probably going to be for a while." Her brow furrowed a little, finally jabbing the stick into the dirt next to the tomato stalk, where she'd be able to get it out again later if the leaves kept getting eaten, "Is it... always like that?" She was fairly sure that they'd spend much more time keeping to themselves if every time they left turned into a hostage situation, only worse. But she had to ask just to be sure.
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If he could kill that man again, he would.
"No. It isn't. Normally, we have time to plan a job from the moment of boots on the ground to the moment of extraction. We have data and layouts and sometimes even guard schedules if they're patient enough." He had to have a minimum of three days in a nest to make sure of his observations and Andy wasn't always patient enough to let him have that. "Everyone has a role and everyone knows what their job is in that role.
It usually goes much smoother, is what I'm trying to say."
Herbs in the basket, he carefully wiped the knife off on his shirt before reaching back behind him. It looked like he just scratched his back for a moment, but when his hand came back around, the knife was gone.
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She accepted the reassurance as it was intended, nodding once, "So this one was just unexpectedly a shitshow. Good to know." Though, really, considering how it had all gone down that wasn't a surprise, and they'd done better than could be expected on top of that.
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It wasn't their best work, but it had been effective.
Picking up the basket that was now completely full of deliciousness, Nicky started heading back to the house to start working on the sauce. When he got to the edge of the garden, however, he stopped and half turned back to face her.
"This is forward of me and you can say no, of course. But...I want to at least voice the offer so that you know it is an option. I can braid your hair for you, if you'd like."
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She'd been thankful that it was the right fabric the same way she'd been thankful for having it at all, as she hadn't had the energy at the time to re-braid it herself, and clearly hadn't regained that energy even despite having the energy needed to go hornworm hunting.
She nodded a moment later, "I'd appreciate it." A twitch of expression that almost made it all the way to being a smile, "As long as you know what you're doing."
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He smiled, dipping his head in a small nod. "I do. Whenever you have time, feel free to come get me. Most of dinner for tonight is going to be letting this simmer for as long as I can keep Andy out of it. There will be time."
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It was closer to 45 minutes, because she'd found that the volunteer plant was, in fact, a pumpkin, and had one fruit on it, which meant she'd had to find a couple of stakes and some bed-liner fabric to make a hammock for it so that it wasn't resting all of its growing weight on the dirt right away.
Even once she'd washed her hands in the kitchen sink, she hesitated before asking: "Anything I can do to help?"
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"I just finished getting everything in to stew, but you can take that out to the compost pile if you want." He nodded towards the coffee and the tomato peels, then set to work stripping a couple twigs of rosemary. By the time she got back, he was washing the board and his knife to be put on the drain board.
"Thank you, sorellina. Do you want to do this here or upstairs? I'm alright with either." Some people didn't like sharing something as intimate as doing their hair. It was a valid question. "Whichever way you decide, I'll need your comb and your leave-in since I'm assuming you don't want a full wash day."
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"Definitely not a full-wash kind of day." She replied, "And here's fine." Mostly because her mom had always done her braids at the kitchen table, and she figured that edge of familiarity in the unfamiliar might help her relax a little, "I'll be right back." She was still thankful that Andy had managed to keep her duffel even with having to switch cars before making it to the plane that had brought them here in the first place, because it meant that she still had her own kit and hadn't had to try and find replacements yet.
She dropped into a chair, sliding the jar labeled 'hair butter' in sharpie -the original label having peeled off at some point- and the comb over, "Let's see what you can do."
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"Do you have an idea of what you want? It has been a long while since I've done anything overly complicated, but I'm willing to try if you're willing to be patient with me."
As he spoke, he was untying the scarf and unwrapping it, taking great care not to let any wayward curls snag in the fabric. Once her hair was free, he let her scalp relax for a moment while he set the scarf on the table and unscrewed the top of that jar. He dipped his forefinger into it, then rubbed it against his thumb, testing it's thickness with a satisfied nod. He scooped up a decent amount, smoothing it over both palms before he started to work it into her curls with his fingers first so that he didn't snag too much.
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She was a little surprised, even still, to find that he did -apparently- know what he was doing, because if she'd been about to say anything else, it didn't happen once his fingers were in her hair, just making a garbled little noise like a kitten picked up by the scruff of the neck.
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While he was perfectly happy with that, he also had someone behind him to lean against when he needed to shift his weight.
He worked the hair butter through her curls, smiling a little at her small, contented sound. Good. He'd hoped that she would enjoy this. He worked slowly and carefully, fingers obviously learning her particular hair as he worked. Joe's hair wasn't quite as tightly curled, after all. Nor was it as long, anymore.
Eventually he reached out to grab her comb, using the edge to make a straight part and working her hair into two bundles. By that point he was more confident and he started humming softly as he nimbly wove her hair into two braids. But not just a simple braid, either. No, he kept the braids tight to her scalp and followed the edge of her hairline so that it would be mostly flat and perfectly comfortable to sleep in.
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It was entirely possible that she could doze off right then and there, and the only reason she wasn't was in case he had any other questions, though the silence was one that spoke of experience and practice more than anything, and she appreciated it, murmuring a quiet: "Thanks for this." Even before he'd finished.
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He didn't glance up from her hair when she spoke, halfway through her second braid. If he stopped his rhythm, he'd have to go back and start all over again because no one had the ability to pick up a braid that had been stopped. That was a power that didn't exist as far as Nicky was concerned.
"You are very welcome. I enjoy it, actually. I was a little sad when Joe had me cut his hair so short.
"You should try his leave-in. It's similar consistency and you're running dangerously close to being low."
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Where Joe wasn't too picky about ingredients he was about the consistency, and Nile was far pickier about ingredients than she should probably have been, if only because it had been years of trial and error before she'd found a product she liked. Or, rather, two that she combined herself in a two-to-one ratio.
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He finished off her second braid, securing it with a band so it wouldn't unravel. It wasn't perfect, but for braiding while it was dry, it certainly wasn't bad. He stepped back, wiping his hands off with the towel at his waist before he moved around to drop into the chair opposite her.
"I can trim it if you need me to, as well. I'm not a stylist by any means, but I can keep the split ends at bay. Next time I go upstairs, I'll grab his bottle so you can see it."
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A soft snort and a shake of her head followed, "But I can usually take care of the rest of it all myself too. So thank you, I might take you up on that. This is good work. Got to admit I'm a little surprised."
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And when it came down to it, that was what he always did. Andy was the backbone of their little group, but Nicky was the heart. He made sure everyone ate and had options to drink. He kept the place tidy, making sure that everyone's little odds and ends were either returned to them or placed somewhere easy for them to find. Even with the upkeep of the house, it was a way to make sure that everyone was comfortable and taken care of.
"Surprised?"
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She just nodded at the question, "Yeah, you know what you're doing and it shows. Where'd you even learn?" Though, before he could actually answer, realization struck and she answered herself with: "Oh. Joe's hair used to be longer, didn't it?"
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He shrugged again, that little smile still firmly in place.
"It would be better wet, but it will do for now. You can keep the scarf for days that you don't feel like doing it, but I do not mind. It is actually nice. Joe's hair hasn't been that long in a long while. I have missed it."
See, Nile. He hadn't offered purely for her sake.
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Another nod, toying with the end of one of the braids, "We get you some good instruction sheets for crowns and patterns and everything, I think we can work something out. Wouldn't want those skills to get too rusty." That and she'd always hated trying to do the whole thing herself, which was why when she had to it usually ended up just rolled in a scarf for a few days.
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