ostavil | open post

Nikolai goes to dress as well. As much as he never wears color, there is a cream suit in his closet and he decides to wear it as a treat for Natalia, an extension of their joke the day before. He smooths his hair and doesn't bother shaving, figuring he can do that once they land. It's not a bad look even if it isn't his look.

When he comes back, Natalia is still dressing. He has on cologne again, a rarity, and when he speaks it's in French.

"Hurry up, Talia," he says, laughing as he does. "You don't want to be late, do you? Hold us all up? I'm ready to tan and be lazy."

Still grumbling, the Princess wiggled into the dress the housekeeper had given her; thankfully it was long enough to reach her ankles and had long sleeves, perfect for early spring weather in Russia, as well as the lovely tropical climate of Malta. Miss Donya brought a warm wrap while Natalia pulled on her shoes, and tried, tried very hard, to ignore the clean, masculine scent of Nikolai's cologne when he ambled back into her bedroom.

It was the housekeeper who commented, saying, "Why, you look very fine indeed, Nikolai." She lifted an eyebrow. "And are you two playing the language game again?" Natalia took the offered wrap with a surly look at her gorgeous guardian. "He thinks it's amusing," she muttered. But had to admit that Miss Donya was absolutely right, and it was going to be a long flight to Malta.

"All right," she said finally. "Let's get going, before the day wastes entirely."

When Natalia stumbles back into the bedroom, Nikolai offers her his arm. He doesn't need sleep, really, so he's alert in a way that his printsessa is absolutely not. That's fine. He's the one who has to be constantly aware, not her, and he can keep eyes out for the both of them.

"Am I going to have to carry you into the jet? Or are you going to manage walking on your own as long as you have a little support?" His mouth curves in a smirk as he says it and he knows there's a dimple in his cheek.

Natalia glowered, but took the offered arm as they went from her bedroom into the corridor. She was more than happy to let Nikolai lead her to the car, open the door and usher her inside. It wasn't a long drive to the nearby airport, but the small princess had already leaned her head over on her soldier's shoulder even before the car left the circle driveway.

Though she was bundled against the early morning chill, she nevertheless had her small hands tucked beneath Nikolai's arm, and she snuggled against him for more than just his inherent warmth. She didn't want to come out of her comfortable doze when the car rolled to a stop at the airstrip, and it took Nikolai a good deal of coaxing to rouse his Sleeping Beauty to she could kiss her father farewell.

Nikolai says his own, more formal goodbyes to the Tsar and it doesn't take long before they're piled into the jet and wheels up. The interior is comfortable, more of a personal sitting room than an airplane, and once they're at cruising altitude, there's no sense in sitting where they have to be belted and he moves to sit alongside Natalia in a more private couch area.

"Do you want to sleep some more?" he asks, soft so he doesn't fully rouse her. "You can lay on me if you want to. I don't know how good a pillow I am but I do seem to be your favorite."

She'd sleepily kissed her father goodbye, hugged him fondly, and let Nikolai usher her into the Tsar's private jet. The princess yawned and snuggled into her coat as Nikolai buckled her in, went through pre-flight checks with the pilot, and when he came back to her once they'd taken off and made it to their cruising altitude, she yawned again, blinking blearily eyes halfway open to see her beloved's handsome face.

"The best pillow," she murmured, languidly draping arms around his neck and leaving both her coat and shoes behind. "'m so sleepy still." Natalia nestled her head on Nikolai's shoulder, her nose buried beneath his ear, and sighed softly, more than content to drift back into a doze. "Mmmm, my pillow..." A brief purse of her lips against his skin was evidence of her kiss, and the little redhead cuddled comfortably in her soldier's arms, not quite ready to greet the world.

Perhaps when breakfast came around, she'd be a little more awake.

Nikolai has them leave breakfast when they come with the cart, thinking Natalia probably needs a little more time to sleep. They'd gone through a rather enthusiastic round of kissing the night before that neither had been prepared for and he's certain she didn't sleep well even if she made an attempt at it.

He settles her in against his lap and strokes her hair while she sleeps, occasionally kissing her crown. This is normal enough behavior for them so the staff doesn't blink an eye; they both know the only significant relationship for the Winter Soldier is the girl he protects and that she treats him special.

The scent of spiced sausage and hot tea was enough to rouse her, this time, and Natalia stirred in Nikolai's arms. "Mmmm, malyshka," she purred as he stroked her, arching gently into his hand. "G'morning, moya zvezda." But she didn't really open her eyes or move from her comfortable nest.

"Must be breakfast. I'd recognize the burnt sausage anywhere." A giggle followed her observation, and the princess finally lifted her head, warm eyes gazing at her handsome soldier, in whose lap she was currently cradled. She delicately covered her small yawn, then inquired, "How long have we been in the air?"

"A hour, two maybe," Nikolai says. Truthfully, he's lost track of time a bit because this is a secure place and he could finally let his guard down and just enjoy time with her. Everywhere else, especially in public, he is always vigilant for threats.

"Go ahead, eat your breakfast mon ange," he says grinning wide at her. "We have to come up with my French name, you know. Your French bounty hunter or whatever I am."

His French endearment warmed her all the way through, and Natalia gently took Nikolai's face in her little hands and pressed her lips to his, definitely more seriously than she ever had before. And her "lessons" from the previous night served her well, as she delicately stroked the tip of her tongue along Nikki's lower lip before pulling away and sliding out of his lap.

"I'm not really hungry, but the tea is good." She did nibble on a biscuit and eggs while she sipped her tea. And thought over the French names for me that she knew. "Hmm, what about...Jacques? Albert? Julien?" She stirred more cream into her tea. "Any of those strike your fancy?"

"I actually do not like any of those," Nikolai says, laughing as he takes his tea. He hadn't had preferences when he came to serve the Tsar and the fact that he has his own mind and his own wants and needs again is something he'll always treasure.

"What about Nicolas? It's just my name in French. Of course, that's really not in the spirit of the game at all. There's Jean-Paul. Or Philippe. Or Louis...I think I'm getting into kings of France now."

Natalia stuck out her tongue, mockingly miffed that he'd rejected all of her suggestions. But she sipped her tea thoughtfully, considering his recommendations with serious aplomb. Lowering her teacup slightly, the princess narrowed her eyes at Nikolai, then said, "What about Jean-Marc?" The cut of that cream colored suit and those tan leather loafers went nicely with that moniker, she thought.

"And what about a haircut, later this week?" But then she shook her head. "Mmnmm, nyet, I prefer you with this look. And Frenchmen also tend to have the shaggies, although you could comb it more often, moya zvezda."

"I could comb it," Nikolai agrees. He drains his teacup and looks at her, considering Jean-Marc with some seriousness. "I think I like Jean-Marc. Do you think you could walk around Malta with Jean-Marc instead of stone cold Nikolai? I think the Frenchman will be more fun."

Nikolai puts his palm on Natalia's thigh, pressing it flat there before giving her a warm smile. "Je m'appelle Jean-Marc, mon ange," he rattles off in low French. "Does it work?"

Oh, it definitely worked. The moment she felt and saw that large hand come to rest on her linen-covered thigh, Natalia felt a burst of heat explode between them, and she had to twist her napkin in her hand to keep from squirming.

The change in his entire demeanor was astonishing. Gone was the cold, granite Soldier she'd come to know better than herself and love unconditionally, and in its place was a bright-eyed, coyly warm Frenchman, with a crooked smile, beautiful blue eyes, and charm just oozing from every perfect pore.

She took a sip of too-hot tea to buy herself a moment, then cleared her throat, feeling heat also flood her cheeks. "Ahem. Oui, it works. It, uh, it works really well." Dropping her napkin unheeded, the princess put down her teacup and endeavored a return smile, covering his hand on her thigh with one of her own.

"I like this you, Nikki--or, Jean-Marc."

Nikolai laughs a little more and turns his hand palm up so their palms are pressed together. He links their fingers together and squeezes her hand, giving her a smile. Perhaps he is different now than he has been before but everyone knows he's happier when he's around Natalia regardless.

"This me? Am I different because I'm pretending to be a stylish Frenchman instead of a surly soldier?"

"Maybe a little," she smiled back, feeling herself blush even harder. But she linked their fingers together anyway, shifting over so she could snuggle against his right side, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I think you could be anyone you wanted to be, Nikki," the girl said quietly, covertly tugging his hand into her lap and covering their joined fingers with her other. "And would fool anyone else who saw you, too." He was just that good.

"But I like you, no matter who you're pretending to be." Natalia lifted up and kissed his cheek, shifting slightly to peck his lips, and nuzzled his nose with hers. "'cause no matter who you are, you're mine."

"I sort of like being yours." They're cuddling an awful lot in the open but the staff of the palace and by extension, the plane, really don't care. Ever since the Grand Duchess was a little girl, he'd been her safe harbor and cuddling had just come with it. He'd been stiff at first, being the object of a little girl's affection, but now it feels natural enough.

"You need to go back to sleep so you can actually enjoy yourself in Malta. Don't worry. I'll make sure everything goes all right while you're out. I always do, don't I?"

"Da," she replied, smiling a little sleepily. "You always do." But she wasn't really all that tired anymore, although Natalia felt she could probably nap, if given the chance. But as usual, that particular chance only came if Nikolai was right beside her, snuggled close and holding her tight.

"Will you come lie with me after your flight checks?" She always asked, because she always wanted him to know that he was wanted, that she cherished his attention and his presence. "You know I never sleep well if you're not with me."

"I can," Nikolai promises. Speaking of those flight checks, he slips from her arms to do just that and when he's done, he settles back in his seat so that Natalia can sprawl across his chest. She seems like both a woman and a little girl at the same time and his feelings, for the first time, are Complicated.

"C'mere. Sleep for a little while, Natalia, and I'll keep you safe. You'll be all right, I promise."

She took the opportunity while Nikki was up front to freshen up a bit, brush her teeth, and at least attempted to comb out her curls, but gave up on the latter and return to crawl right into her Nikolai's lap at his invitation. Slender arms wound trustingly around his thick neck, and she tucked her legs up beneath her skirt, leaving her shoes on the carpet.

Nikolai obliged her further by leaning the seat back as far as it went, so that she might nestle comfortably in his arms, her nose resting right against the beating pulse in his throat, the most comforting feeling in all the world. "Je t'aime, ma Nikki," she whispered as her eyes drifted closed, and she sighed softly, snug in his arms with a blanket covering them both.

"Je t'aime, ma ange," Nikolai whispers back, letting Natalia arrange herself into whatever position is most comfortable for her. He rubs her back as she falls asleep and he's happy for the warm weight of her and glad she's comfortable enough to sleep next to him.

The hours of the flight pass quickly while she sleeps and he rouses her only so she can buckle in for landing. "Sorry, printsessa. We're landing and you have to go buckle into your seat. It won't be long before you have your bed at the house, though, and you can sleep all you want."

The flight wasn't that long, just a little over seven hours, and when they'd entered Maltese airspace, Nikolai woke her. Natalia yawned, stretched, and groggily roused, blinking a little blearily until she realized they had arrived and would be landing very soon. Smooching a kiss to her soldier's cheek, the princess slid into her own seat and buckled her seatbelt, yawning lightly as she opened the window cover to gaze out at the sparkling lagoon growing larger beneath them.

"At least the sun is shining," she observed, recalling the recent grey days of her home country. "And the water is always so blue and beautiful." Just like a certain soldier's eyes, crossed her mind, unbidden. Hiding a flush, the princess kept her gaze on the window, curtailing her excitement as she felt the landing gear descend and the plane begin its final approach.

"Do you think Mati will have bread ready? I texted her a day or so ago and told her we were coming for the spring and summer. She was so excited that we were coming early this year." The middle-aged housekeeper was always overjoyed to cater to the princess and her silent guardian, and always treated Natalia just as one of her own several children, many of which had been playmates for the Tsar's only daughter when she'd been just a little thing.

"She promised she'd have qassatats ready for you, too. And pastizzi with ricotta." She gave a little groan and pressed a hand to her stomach. "Ugh, now I'm starving, thinking about her amazing cooking."

"I'm sure they'll have everything ready for their princess," Nikolai says, laughing a little. "But we could call ahead in the car and make sure. They knew when we were landing, though."

Sure as that, when they pull up to the private compound, there's a full spread laid out for the Grand Duchess and her escort, including their favorites and then some. Not a touch of it is Russian, either, so no borscht to ruin the day.

"Think we ought to tan and swim a bit after we eat?" Nikolai suggests, grinning a little.

Natalia had been overjoyed to see Mati and her youngest children again; hugs were exchanged all around, then it was on to the dining room to indulge on all of their favorites, and the princess ate far too much than she should've.

She groaned when Nikolai mentioned swimming, even if it was one of her favorite pasttimes and the day was just beautiful for spending hours in the water. "How can you even think of moving right now?" she whined, sprawling low in her chair. "I feel like a whale. I probably don't even fit in my swimsuit now."

A lazy hand flopped. "And you know I never tan. I just burn and peel. Like a lizard, ugh." Natalia leveled a mild glower at her companion. "You always look like a native after we've been here a week. It's not fair."

"Because you're a redhead," Nikolai says sagely. "Your skin is like cream, my angel, and you have to protect it. Some of us go golden in the sun but if you like how it looks on me, I'm happy to tan as much as you want me to."

French does make it easier to say things he ought not be saying in front of the other staff so he does like their little game so far.

"You'll let me see all that creamy skin though, won't you? While we swim?"

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