oxfordtweed: Nicholas Angel on the phone with text on the bottom reading 'Can't talk now... I'm moving to Wales.' (Nicholas - Wales)
Richard Book is Innocent ([personal profile] oxfordtweed) wrote in [community profile] tweedandtinsel2010-12-04 05:35 pm

Nicky Angel (6/7)

Title: Nicky Angel
Fandom: Hot Fuzz
Character/s:Like in the film, + one or two
Word Count (chapter/total): 1,800
Rating: PG, for swearing
Summary/Warnings: Just a light chapter to brighten the mood.

It was brought to my attention recently that for one reason or another, I didn't post the ending to this. Looking at the dates, my stopping posting this seems to have happened around the time work started getting...weird. My apologies. I'll post the last few chapters over the next day or so (and I still can't believe I ever even wrote this).

There were some interactions that I wanted to see happen between Nicholas and Nicky; in particular, ones which any parent would have to deal with almost regularly. Nicholas is slowly getting the hang of himself, here, and they're getting more comfortable around one another. Nicky, however, is still very stubborn on some details. As are most kids.



The cup of tea next to his elbow had long since cooled, but Nicholas was still at the kitchen table, filling out endless paperwork. He’d gotten as far as he could on his own, answering the world’s most bizarre line of questioning (Did Sandford Primary really need to ask if a six-year-old had a criminal record?) he’d seen since clearing the NWA out of Sandford. Finally, realising he couldn’t continue much further without blatantly making stuff up, he put down his biro and twisted round in his chair.

“Nicky,” he called, hoping the boy was in the sitting room, since the telly was on.

“What?” Nicky asked after a few moments. “I’m busy.”

“No you’re not,” Nicholas said. “Come here.”

Nicholas heard the remote being thrown to the floor as he waited for the boy to make himself seen in the kitchen. Eventually, Nicky shuffled up to the table, pulling one of the chairs up next to Nicholas.

“What’s that?” he demanded.

“Your paperwork so you can go to school,” Nicholas said simply.

“I don’t want to go to school!” Nicky spat. “Why do I have to go? It’s stupid. I don’t want to.”

Nicholas sighed. “Because if you don’t, I’ll be arrested from depriving you a proper, well rounded education, and you’ll be sent off to Surrey to live with some horrible old woman that smells of pork, and has four hundred cats, and she’ll make you clean all of their litter pans,” Nicholas said tiredly. “Now, I’m trying to make this as painless as possible for the both of us. But that means you have to go to school.”

“Fine,” Nicky said, sinking into his seat.

“Going to school, then?” Nicholas asked.

“Yes,” Nicky said quietly.

Nicholas nodded. “Good. Just be glad you don’t have to start wearing a uniform until next year.” He began flipping through the forms, trying to get back to the beginning. “Right. What’s your birthday?”

“December eight.”

Nicholas wrote down Nicky’s response, hoping he wasn’t mistaken. “You’re six, right?”

Nicky nodded.

Nicholas looked up at him, making a conscious effort not to let on just exactly how pissed off and annoyed he really was. “Your name,” he started. “It’s Nicky, or...”

“It’s Nicky, stupid.”

Nichoals sighed. “Just Nicky, then?” he asked, finding himself dreading the answer. “Your mum never called you anything else? Not... Nicholas, or anything?”

Nicky shook his head. “No,” he said forcefully.

Nicholas inhaled deeply, trying to keep his calm as he filled out the appropriate box. “What’s your last name, then?” he asked, realising that he never even knew that detail about Tricia.

“I don’t like it,” Nicky said quietly. “It’s stupid.”

“Nicky,” Nicholas warned.

“I don’t,” Nicky insisted. “The other kids always make fun.”

Nicholas sighed. “I used to get made fun of and beaten up a lot as a kid, and not just because of my name,” he said. “Come on. Let’s hear it.”

Nicky shifted slightly, kicking his feet out. “Angel,” he muttered. “Stupid.”

Nicholas gathered up all of his self restraint to keep from slamming his head on the table. He closed his eyes tightly, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. “Of course,” he said sickly. “She gave you my name.”

Nicky frowned. “Why’d she do that?” he asked.

Nicholas continued to avoid looking at the boy. “Because she must really believe that I’m your dad,” he said simply.

“Why?” Nicky asked. “You’re not.”

“I know,” Nicholas agreed. “This, we’ve agreed on. But your mum seems to think otherwise.”

“But... you’re not.”

Nicholas sighed as he started writing on the form again. “I know,” he said. He spent several moments looking at the remaining blank spots on the form, dreading what else he might learn about his brand new little family. At least some questions would be safer than others. “What’s your middle name?”

“Austin,” Nicky said.

Nicholas let himself breathe again. “Thank god for that,” he muttered.

Nicky got up to look at what Nicholas was writing. “What?” he asked.

Nicholas shook his head, tossing his biro down to the table. “Nothing,” he said. “Get your coat. Danny wants us to go to his place for dinner. We’ll do this later.”

“You said we could have ice cream for dinner,” Nicky reminded him.

Nicholas laughed. “I said if you were good!” he pointed out. “Now go get your damn coat, so Danny can give you ice cream, anyway.”

Nicky all but jumped down from the chair, loudly running up the steps to the room that was slowly becoming his.


He was in that special place, halfway between passed out and consciousness, his mind finally switched off and wandering aimlessly. It was a good place to be, pleasantly warm and cloudy, and he was very upset to feel himself being physically shaken out of it.

“Nick!”

Nicholas opened his eyes and immediately shut them again with a heavy sigh. “What?” he demanded around his mouth guard. He was definitely going to have to have a chat with the boy about the importance of knocking before coming into his room.

Nicky grabbed tightly to his arm, doing a good show at trying to pull him out of bed. “Nick, there’s something out my window!” Nicky insisted.

“Nicky,” Nicholas started as he took out his mouth guard and dropped it into a cup of water on his night stand. “We’re on the first floor. There’s nothing out your window.”

“Yes there is; I heard it!” Nicky insisted. “It was making this sound:” He scraped his fingernails along Nicholas’ night stand in a circle-like pattern for a few moments. “I heard it!”

Heaving a heavy sigh, Nicholas accepted that the boy did not want him in bed, and threw the covers back. “Fine,” he said, reaching under the night stand for his torch. “Come on, then.” He led Nicky to the other bedroom, stopping in the door way. “Which one, then?”

Nicky pointed to the window above the bed Danny had managed to wrangle up for him, passed down from his cousin’s uncle’s niece’s gran’s sister.

“All right.” Nicholas flipped on the torch and shone it at the window, surprised to see two round, yellow eyes staring at him. He laughed, easily making his way up to the window. “’S’just an old barn owl,” he said, climbing up onto the bed. He put the torch down by his knees, lightly banging on the window. “Bugger off!”

The owl skittered momentarily before flying away.

“There,” Nicholas said. “Crisis averted. Go back to bed.”

Nicky squirmed by the door. “I don’t want to,” he said. “What if it comes back?”

Nicholas inhaled deeply. “Uhm, no,” he said. “Bed. If it comes back, it won’t be able to hurt you. There’s glass on the window for that reason.”

Nicky grumbled to himself as he climbed back into bed, picking up his stuffed dog from the floor.

“Don’t,” Nicholas warned as he walked out of the room, not bothering to make sure if the dog stayed in the boy’s possession or not. He lightly shut the door behind him, sighing at the sound of stuffed dog making contact with wood.


If asked, Nicholas would have outright denied that it was deliberate. Reorganising the roster would have happened regardless of the school year, and Nicholas’ days off being changed to the middle of the week were just coincidence. He was simply switching with Tony, who wanted weekends off to be able to spend time with his family.

Nicholas desperately craving some much-needed alone time absolutely, positively did not factor into the new schedule at all.

Although, that wasn’t to say that he didn’t completely take advantage of having an empty cottage to himself again. He knew he had tasks to be finished, and cleaning to be done, but when it came down to it, he was too tired to even bother changing out of his pyjamas; which was a ritual usually reserved to the few and far between days when he was home ill (that is to say, too badly hung over to crawl out of bed before one in the afternoon), but personal days were an acceptable reason, as well. He tried watching telly for a bit, and even managed to wash up a few dishes, but he eventually fell back into old habits, stretching out on the sofa with a book, a cat on his chest, and a nice hot cup of tea by his side. Life was pleasant and quiet, and the way it should be.

Until half-past three, when the front door flew open, and slammed shut only a few moments later.

“Don’t slam the door,” Nicholas warned.

Nicky rushed up to the sofa, frightening off the cat. “What’s that?” he asked, tossing his book bag down.

“It’s a book,” Nicholas said simply.

“Duh.”

Nicholas laughed lightly as he marked his spot with his finger and showed Nicky the cover. “It’s by a man called Stephen King,” he explained. “I don’t usually like him, but this one’s shaping up all right.”

“Who’s that?” Nicky asked. He reached for the book, twisting it to look at the dragon printed on the cover.

“A man who’s made it his mission in this world to make sure I have nightmares about airports and clowns for the rest of my life,” Nicholas explained.

Nicky frowned. “Is that what this is about?” he asked, letting go of the book, instead deciding that he’d rather climb up and sit on Nicholas’ lap. Nicholas jumped sharply, situating himself quickly to make sure he wasn’t going to get an unintentional (or intentional) knee to the bollocks.

“No,” Nicholas said, pushing Nicky into a seated position. “Sit still if you’re gonna be up here.” He managed to make himself comfortable as possible with a squirming child on his lap. “No, it’s about an evil magician and a prince,” he explained finally. “No mention of a dragon yet.”

Nicky frowned; the type that made Nicholas brace for another mention of how stupid whatever it was that was being discussed was. “Read some to me,” he said instead.

“Really?” Nicholas asked, surprised.

Nicky nodded. “Mum used to read to me every day,” he explained. “You never do anything like that.”

It was Nicholas’ turn to frown. “I didn’t know you wanted me to,” he said, trying hard to ignore the feeling that he was once again failing at being a proper parent. “Nicky, I’m very new to this. I don’t know these things if you don’t tell me.”

Nicky looked at him for a few moments before settling in, leaning back into the sofa as Nicholas found his place again.