DISCLAIMER: Nikki & Nora are the property of Nancylee Myatt and Warner Bros. Television. No infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Many thanks to Ann for the beta reading. Inspired by the story 'Terms of this Covenant' by sat10.
CHALLENGE: Written for the first International Day of Femslash.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

By AJ3


Bobby gazed down at his soaked trousers, the material already beginning to discolour, and then at the dark, viscous liquid that was rapidly expanding outwards across the floor. 'It wasn't supposed to end like this,' he thought, recalling the difficult conversation he'd had with his Momma that morning.

"Bobby, I need you to go and check on your sister. I haven't heard from her in 3 days, and I've already left messages for her to call me. I'm worried that she's taken sick again. Remember what happened last spring…."

Bobby certainly did. On that occasion - after enduring several days of pointed comments from their Momma - he'd picked the lock on his sister's apartment door and had found Nora passed out cold in the living room. They'd discovered afterwards that she'd caught the flu and had decided not to 'trouble' her family with the information, feeling unable to withstand the well meaning, but overly protective, fussing she'd known her mother would inflict upon her. Even when fully recovered, Nora could never really say what had happened in those missing days, but it had appeared that the illness had left her so weak and dehydrated that she'd collapsed shortly before Bobby had discovered her. Just the memory of walking into the apartment to find his sister's apparently lifeless body lying on the floor still sent shivers down the policeman's spine. Now, he had much more pressing matters to deal with.

As Bobby tried to avoid taking in what was actually happening, a part of him realised that the memory of that awful moment had, indirectly, led him to this moment: standing here in Nora's kitchen and watching as the glutinous fluid continued to seep slowly across the floor, bruising the tiles with its colour. He temporarily lost himself in his memories again…

He'd been vexed with his sister for making him the go between again - dammit, if she didn't want Momma buggin' her about her love life, then she should tell Momma, not whine at him - and had phoned Nora himself, leaving a message on her cell phone that should have left her with no doubts that she would be deep trouble if she didn't get in touch with him as soon as possible. He'd also managed to swing by her precinct and found out that she'd not been seen for the past couple of days; although, it appeared to be common knowledge that Nora and her new partner had been working all hours, gathering evidence to trap a vicious murderer. In fact, everyone he'd spoken to assumed they were out working the case.

By the time Bobby's shift had ended, he still hadn't heard a word from his sister, and his growing unease had steadily escalated into a case of mild panic as he'd begun to mentally berate himself for all the things he should have done. If only he'd paid attention when Nora had mentioned her new partner the other day, or thought of it when he was at her precinct, then he could have contacted him, and perhaps, the detective could have been of some help, but Bobby had glanced at his watch and decided it was too late to drag anyone else into this now. Even when working the strangest hours imaginable, Nora had always managed a quick call to stay in touch and to stay out of trouble with Momma; therefore, he'd reasoned, she must be sick again as no sane person would deliberately incur Momma's wrath. However, being the stubborn individual that she was, he'd figured Nora must have decided to sweat it out rather than ask for anyone's help.

With this in mind, Bobby had formulated a plan of action, and after a stop at Momma's to collect some of her patented 'pick-you-up' crawfish bisque, an inspired conversation to dissuade her from accompanying him to Nora's, and a solemn promise to call as soon as he'd given Nora a good shake to 'bring her to her senses', he'd travelled across town to Nora's apartment, positive that the current circumstances justified using the spare key that Nora had grudgingly supplied. Bobby had known he had to be sure, as the consequence associated with its misuse was a subject much better left undisturbed. He could have repeated verbatim the warning that Nora had given him as she'd reluctantly handed over the door key - 'Do not under any circumstances let Momma know you've got a key, unless you want me to tell her all about you and Marcy Gaudet'. Bobby had shuddered slightly just remembering the look in Nora's eyes when she had uttered the threat – oh, she'd definitely meant that one.

After a quick check of the apartment, he had fortunately found nothing untoward, just a firmly closed bedroom door. Silently, he'd released a breath he hadn't even realised he'd been holding and he'd started to chuckle. It was just like when she was a kid, he'd thought. Nora would always try to sleep through any sickness, which in turn, had usually made it easier to deal with her. A sneezy, sick bear with a sore head he could do without, but he was here to help, whether she wanted it or not. As he'd hunted through the kitchen cabinets in search of a pan large enough to warm the bisque, he'd started to hum under his breath.

It was as he'd approached the stove, saucepan in hand, that he'd heard the first noise. He'd stopped dead and listened. Was that... groaning? Well, at least Nora was definitely in the apartment, and she certainly hadn't sounded too good. He'd snickered under his breath; perhaps she'd even caught that nasty stomach bug that was doing the rounds at the moment. He'd figured Nora would probably buy him coffee and beignets for a month in order to keep that quiet.

He'd been just about to call out to her to let her know 'help was on the way', but the sounds had died away as quickly as they had arisen, and so rather than bellow and disturb the whole neighbourhood, he'd continued towards the stove when suddenly a voice he'd barely recognised as his sister's had yelled, "God Nik, please!!"

He'd flinched and glanced down at the bisque, which had started to slop out of the pan, when another voice had replied, "Oh baby yes, I want you so much…" ...another voice… …a woman's voice.

It was at this point that his brain had stopped functioning completely, and the pan had slipped from his suddenly unresponsive fingers to crash to the floor, flooding the kitchen with spilt bisque and drenching Bobby as it descended. Into the intense stillness that followed the near deafening noise, he'd just managed to choke out, "Errm.. don't worry.. it's er... well.. it's just me, Sis;" although, he'd thought ironically, if Nora had shot him thinking he was a burglar, at least he wouldn't have to face her.

Back in the here and now, he could just hear frantic voices. Then he heard the bedroom door open and close, followed by a strange swishing noise that grew steadily louder until his sister stood framed in the doorway, wrapped only in a bed sheet and a distinctly defiant attitude.

'In flagrante delicto….' thought Bobby, 'Huh, must be a sibling thing'. He started to smile, the grin suddenly taking on cheek-cracking proportions as he looked across the kitchen at his sister and realised that Marcy Gaudet would never be a problem to him again.

The End

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