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Title: Sand in my Shorts
Author: Den / [livejournal.com profile] raynedanser
Fandom: Veritas
Spoilers: None, post series
Rated: PG
A/N: As Delibby pointed out (and yes, I am aware), Calvin was in college and likely didn't have a lot of access to the ocean. No, I didn't forget. ;-) The surfing was intended more to be during breaks and his opportunity might have been few and far between, which would make him appreciate it more ... It's just hard to work that in with only 1000 words. ;-) (and man I suck at wording things how I want when I've had next to no coffee... OI)

Inside the trunk of the car were groceries and clothing for two for a week. The car's occupants sat in stony silence, neither of them willing to break it. It was a long drive, one they'd begun bright and early.

They reached their destination mid-morning. The passenger got out first and went around the front of the car to lean against the hood. He folded his arms across his chest and stared at his home for the next week. His gaze barely flickered as the car's driver came around and stood next to him.

"It could be worse," Nikko, the passenger, said quietly.

Calvin, the driver, snorted. "Not sure how," he finally said. He stood a moment more, a single key hanging from a chain he held, then headed for the cottage’s door.

Nikko rushed to catch up then stopped when he nearly crashed into Calvin. The cottage had been hidden from their view by a tall, white washed fence. Sand had blown across the deck, the windows were dirty and when Calvin used the key and pushed the door in, the inside wasn't much better.

It was a small cottage that squatted low on the beach with a wrap around deck and a wall of sliding glass doors on the ocean side. A pair of once brightly decorated surf boards leaned against the fence. The inside was an open floor plan except for the bathroom and single bedroom.

It wasn't what Nikko would call run down. It was just dusty from standing empty for too long. He shouldered by Calvin and toed open the bedroom door. He groaned. His father had a really twisted sense of humor.

"What?" Calvin asked from behind him.

"There's one bed."

"Nice. Really nice, Nikko. You know it's your fault we were exiled here in the first place."

And there it was, out in the open at last. The reason for Calvin's hostility. Nikko whirled around to face him. "My fault? There's no way."

"If you could just-" Calvin started.

Nikko stepped closer. "Just. What? Chuck?"

Calvin stayed quiet for so long, Nikko started to think that maybe he wasn't going to answer. "Nothing," he finally mumbled.

He walked off, began unloading the bags from the car. Nikko stayed inside, unpacking as the bags were brought in. Calvin was only partly right and Nikko knew he was smart enough to figure it out. It was probably what pissed him off so much.

The cabin they had been exiled to for the week had been bought by the Foundation years ago and obviously didn't see much use. Nikko's father and the others at Veritas had grown tired of Calvin and Nikko and their constant bickering, so here they were with the intention of learning to get along.

So far, it wasn't going that well.

They'd spent the afternoon scrubbing and dusting in silence. They'd eaten in silence. They didn't speak until bedtime, when they'd flipped a coin to see who would get the bed. Nikko lost.

Nikko spent the next few nights on the sofa. The first morning, Nikko listened as Calvin got up shortly after sunrise. He quietly started the coffee, then slipped out the doors to the patio. He picked up one of the surfboards and, after a quick examination, slid into the sea.

That first morning, Nikko had pretended to be asleep as he'd laid there listening to Calvin move quietly through the cottage.

The next two mornings, Nikko got up shortly after Calvin went outside and watched as Calvin's strong arms paddled though the water as he waited for a wave. Watched as Calvin gracefully stood on the board, balancing himself. Watched as Calvin walked out of the water, droplets of water glistening on his skin in the morning sun. For the first time in days, Calvin started to look relaxed. By the time Calvin was back inside, stripping off his wet clothes, Nikko was back on the couch, feigning sleep.

When Calvin slipped out again on the fourth morning, Nikko once again got up. This time, he got two cups of the coffee Calvin had started, and went out on the patio. He placed both cups on the railing and leaned onto it, watching Calvin.

When Calvin finally came back to the cottage, he seemed only a little surprised that Nikko waited for him. He accepted the coffee that Nikko held out to him.

"I didn't know you surfed," Nikko said quietly. He turned around and leaned a hip against the rail, watching Calvin as he watched the water.

Calvin chuckled. "Lots about me you don't know, Nikko." When he saw that Nikko wasn't going to let that slide, he continued. "I started in college. It cleared my head, let me think."

Nikko nodded. "And now? Have you cleared your head?"

Calvin sighed. "Nikko, it isn't that simple."

"Sure it is."

Calvin shook his head. "No, it's not. Nikko, if we start this, whatever this is, you're father will kill me."

Nikko laughed. He knew he shouldn't, but couldn't help it. "Is that what this is about? My dad?" he asked. Nikko took a step closer to Calvin and tried to smother the smile that threatened. "Calvin, my dad isn't stupid."

But there the conversation ended as Calvin shook his head and walked away.

That night, Nikko shifted on the too small couch.

"Nikko?" Calvin whispered.

"Just a sec," he answered. The bedroom was lit by the moonlight that spilled in through the open windows. "What's up?"

Calvin pushed the sheet back in invitation. Nikko joined him and Calvin smoothed a hand over Nikko's belly. "Nikko, this thing-" he began.

Nikko chuckled softly and shifted to his side. With one hand on Calvin's cheek, Nikko kissed him gently, silencing him. "Calvin, you think too much," he teased.

"But Nikko-"

"Cal, stop thinking so hard and enjoy this, whatever this is. Can you do that?" Calvin nodded and Nikko smiled.

"Good," he said and kissed him again, more thoroughly this time.

Date: 2008-02-28 11:29 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] raynedanser.livejournal.com
Yeah, I was aiming it more toward breaks and stuff (so the opportunity might be far between and he'd appreciate it more) ... Not every morning before class... Just hard to get into that when you only have 1000 words. ;-)

(Actually, maybe I should add that in under author's notes....)
Edited Date: 2008-02-28 11:39 am (UTC)

Date: 2008-02-28 09:31 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] delibby.livejournal.com
It's not the lack of ocean, cuz the Atlantic is right there. It's more that I'm not sure how much surfing is done in the area. But I know nothing about surfing. And the NYC area is more commercial ocean/bay/dock/whatever than recreational beach. Isn't it? I know the Atlantic, down in the TX bay area is warm, but isn't it colder up around the NY/NJ area? Which, ok, wetsuit.

I should just let this go, because I adore the story. I really do.

Date: 2008-02-28 10:01 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] raynedanser.livejournal.com
*nods* I get you. I do. I just... Some of it has to stay vague, unfortunately, just because of the word limit (which sucks because I had A LOT more I could have easily added to this). I *am* considering a sequel or something, though. :D

Also, edited again because dammit that was before I'd finished wiping sleep crud from my eyes and I knew what I wanted to say and couldn't get it right. I think I have it now. I think. lol

Still want to do a sequel, though. ;-)
Edited Date: 2008-02-28 10:05 pm (UTC)

Date: 2008-02-28 10:06 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] delibby.livejournal.com
ok, sequel is good. Sequel makes me happy. And that's the most important thing in your life. Right? No? So sad.

my brain just latches onto the strangest things sometimes and won't let go. It's annoying. I'm telling myself it's not that important, it doesn't matter, let it go. And my brain just won't. sigh

Date: 2008-02-28 10:10 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] raynedanser.livejournal.com
There's so much more I wanted to do with it and couldn't because of the word limit, so it was like picking and choosing about what was going to make it in. I HATE when that happens to a fic and this is why. Because something that should have been clarified a little bit better had to be left for author's notes because I ran out of words in the fic itself. ARGH

And no, don't worry about latching on because it was bugging me that I didn't get to address it better and then couldn't get the A/N worded right either (and we'll blame that on not enough coffee *g*).

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