Work Text:
“Uh, Booker? What’s all this?” Nile waves around at the array of hair products lining the shelves of his side of the closet. Various shampoos, conditioners, hair masks, an array of wide tooth combs and bristle brushes are neatly lined up. She squints and even makes out a few bags of braiding hair tucked behind the products. They're unopened, some still in non-descript plastic grocery bags.
It suddenly dawns on her why she never seems to run out of hair product. No matter where in the world they are, her toiletries in that regard stay stocked.
She arches a brow and tightens her robe around herself. After all, she wandered into the closet for a change of clothes after her morning shower.
"Baby, are you...you going to the beauty shops every time we end up back in the States?" Picking up a small bottle of jojoba oil, she checks the label. Yep, this is definitely the same brand she uses to moisturize in between wash days.
She spins around on her heel at the sound of him shuffling behind her. He looks sheepish, especially in just a t-shirt and boxers.
"I can explain, mon cher…"
Three Months Earlier
“Alrighty, my lovely Kinks, that’s my winter moisturizing routine! Don’t forget to subscribe to my channel and check out all my socials in the links below. Since I’m on holiday break, I’ll be uploading on Saturdays too for the next three weeks.
Remember that you are loved, you are cherished and that your hair can do anything you want it to. Love and tresses to all you beautiful baes! This is KinkyCurlsGirl2099 signing off!”
The pretty girl with skin the color of warm earth blows an air kiss to the camera. Her smile bright, her hair is in an array of thick twists coiled up into a side bun. Sprinkled throughout it are streaks of red and green for Christmas. With a final wave, the outro music blasts through the speakers of Booker’s laptop as an animation of her doing various activities around her natural hair journey begins.
Booker checks his notepad sitting next to the computer and crosschecks it with his texts to himself on his phone. They’re currently at a safehouse in Durban, so Nile probably won’t need KinkyCurlsGirl2099’s cold weather tips at the moment. When they head to Ottawa in the few days,though? The winter season of the northern hemisphere will definitely require some extra steps as far as her sealing in that moisture. Especially on her ends and edges. Those apparently tend to get the driest in cold weather and it’s crucial they remain healthy to preserve length.
Booker hums an old tune to himself as he clicks back to his video recs homepage. The team’s been busy as hell with missions on account of Copley the Fifth’s sheer drive to wrap things up before the start of the new year. Nile is catching a nap in one of the bedrooms she's sharing with him. Everyone else decided some day trips are in order. So Booker has the safehouse to himself. Now is a good a time as ever to catch up on all of the updates to the various YouTubers he subscribes to.
Opening up SouthSideLondonian’s page, he scrolls through her updated videos. Nile has been loving her current passion twists. So Booker clicks on Londonian’s upload from a couple of months ago concerning how to do a knotless version.
SouthSouthLondonian’s accent is tinged with the usual rolling pronunciation of her fellow Nigerian immigrants to England (it’s just England now, Scotland and Wales passing successful referendums on their independence decades ago. The Gaelic Union of GU includes those two countries plus Ireland to form a counter balance to England). It’s even more evident since she’s currently back on the continent visiting family. Her cell phone cam is steady as she greets her braider in her native Hausa language before swiftly switching back to English to explain how she grew up with the woman doing her hair.
Booker settles in and scribbles down more notes. He’s so engrossed that he doesn’t hear the front door creak open just outside of the kitchen where he’s sitting.
“What are you up to, Book?”
Booker’s hand reflexively goes to the gun tucked at the small of his back in his waistband before he stops himself as his brain finally registers that it’s only Joe. The other man leans against the decades-old refrigerator. How his arms are crossed and that he’s in just grey sweatpants and a t-shirt means he’s been in the safehouse long enough to change out of his street clothes.
Booker’s eyes widen and he clears his throat. “You guys are already back?” he forces himself to sound casual.
“Just me,” Joe shrugs. “It’s Nicky’s turn for grocery shopping and I was feeling a little tired. Andy and Quynh won’t be back until dinner,” he fishes his burner phone out of his pocket and shakes it for emphasis.
“Oh,” Booker lets out a deep exhale, “Alright then-”
“What are you watching?” Joe quietly interrupts.
Booker shakes his head and nervously shrugs, “YouTube.” At Joe’s utterly confused look, he can’t hold in his chuckle. Age differences between the lot of them seem to rear their heads in some of the weirdest circumstances. “That internet thing where people post videos?” He pauses before gesturing for Joe to come over. Sliding back into his seat, Booker’s finger lingers over the space key before he finally presses it to start up Londonium’s vid.
Joe stands behind Booker’s shoulder and silently watches it to the end. Which is a long time considering it’s a solid half-hour long and Booker was only a few minutes into it before he was startled.
Pursing his lips and letting out a grunt, Joe tilts his head to the side. His eyes dart to the notepad and Booker’s loopy, calligraphy-like cursive notes. The Frenchman slouches in his seat, his hands running up and down his jean-clad thighs. The silence falls heavy between them as Joe looks back and forth between Booker and the laptop for even longer. Suddenly he shakes his head, as though in agreement to some internal decision he’s made.
“The other three are still shopping and won’t be back for a while. C’mon,” Joe nods towards the rickety wooden stairs that lead to the upstairs bedrooms, “Let me show you some things.”
Rapidly blinking, Booker closes his laptop and is on Joe’s heels as they make their way to the bathroom right outside of the bedroom he and Nicky are sharing.
"For the record," Joe casts Booker a sideways look, "The only reason I'm doing this is because you put in the work of your own accord. And you did it because you actually love Nile as she deserves to be cherished versus being weird and fetishy about her. Or her culture."
Booker sagely nods. "I would hope that comes across-"
"For your own sake, I'm rather glad it does," Joe’s expression softens with his wide smile.
Joe’s hair is of course not the same texture as Nile’s. Her coils are kinkier, the curls tighter and more porous. In fact, Booker reflexively points that out aloud as Joe’s in the process of lining up his hair products along the counter in front of them. Joe grins and shrugs. “Me and Nile still actually share some of these. This,” he points to the As I Am Dry & Itchy Scalp Care Cowash, “Works wonders on her wash day.”
Booker arches a brow. “She does it every five to six days or so. Well,” he closes his eyes for a quick moment of memory, “Assuming she doesn’t get blood, viscera and other things in her hair during missions. Oh and sometimes, it’s every four days. Usually if we’re staying somewhere with warmer weather. Scalp sweat, you know,” he runs a hand through his own hair for emphasis. He had it cut a few days ago, so there’s a bit of an undercut going on with longer strands on top. A departure from his shaggier locks he's had going on before.
Joe’s burst of laughter is warm and he slaps Booker on the back. “You’re more than halfway there, considering you already know that information.”
“It’s a process before we go to bed,” Booker shrugs, though not unkindly.
“My washing cycle runs a couple of days shorter than hers,” Joe replies. He picks up the large blue circular container of cowash and hands it to Booker.
Booker’s eyes narrow as he inspects the As I Am label. “@KinkyCurlsGirl2099 is sponsored by that company,” he murmurs, almost to himself, “Though she prefers the coconut one.”
Joe shakes his head in disagreement. “We both think all that coconut leaves behind a film. Plus the smell proves too strong. This,” he points to the jar, “Gets down the roots and smells incredibly fresh. Makes your scalp tingle too.”
Booker takes out his burner phone and snaps a picture of the label. He switches out of the camera app to texts and proceeds to copy down the product name into a text message to himself. Looking over Booker's shoulder to find a listing of other shampoos, conditioners, serums and oils Booker's noted, Joe lets out fluttery sigh.
Booker looks over at him, confused expression flashing across his face. “Oui?”
“You really do love her, Sébastien,” Joe quietly intones.
He’s met by Booker’s blush that spreads down his neck and up to his ears. It causes Joe to smile even more as Booker clears his throat and replies, “Bien sûr. How could I…how could I not?”
“Come now,” Joe waves at the products, “I’ll walk you through each of them. You can cross reference them with your list. Along with what you already know she uses,” he nods at the phone.
They spend the rest of the afternoon with Booker copiously taking notes and Joe patiently explaining the process behind how to use everything. After that, Booker helps Joe set up a new YouTube account behind the usual hyper secure VPN and sends him vid recs.
It’s a great way to pass the time between the two of them.
“So uh,” Booker scratches the back of his neck as he glances away from Nile’s astonished look and his thoughts whirl back to the present, “That’s how I uh, well...found myself always making sure you never run out of anything? Even whenever we're overseas."
Nile's mouth opens and closes in shock.
Booker swallows. "I shouldn’t have kept it hidden from y-”
Nile’s mouth is on his before he can finish his sentence. Hungry and insistent, she balls her fists into his t-shirt to bring him into her as close as possible. While initially caught off guard, Booker’s eyes flutter shut as he swiftly wraps an arm around her waist and kisses her back.
They quickly stumble back onto the bed. Hands everywhere on each other and mouths devouring whatever bit of skin they can get to, they seem to breathe in each other’s essence in their frantic movements. Only when they need to come up for air does Nile slide off from where she’s straddling Booker's thighs. She ends up lying on her side to splay herself out face-to-face to him.
She brushes the pad of her thumb along his scruffy chin before dropping a kiss to the tip of his nose. How he closes his eyes and grins at her for a brief moment causes her heart to flutter.
“Thank you for paying attention,” she whispers.
His arm curls around her waist and pulls her in closer. “Least I can do. Learned how this,” he winds his fingers along the edges of her twists, “Is weaponized against people by no-good assholes. Not just from where you’re from but in a hell of a lot…way too many places. It’s wrong,” he frowns, “Cruel. You deal with enough shit out there in the world,” he swallows, “No need for me to be a part of it. Not even by accident.”
She captures his mouth again. As she pulls away, he reaches up to wipe away at her wet cheeks with a gentle brush of his fingers.
“I love you Sébastien,” she breathes with nearly a hiccup, “Not only for you but for what you do.”
His kiss to her is slow and deep. It’s full of the words he can’t string together in coherent sentences but what he feels for her in every fiber of his being. “I am here to protect you, mademoiselle,” he huskily insists, cradling her cheek, “In this life and all of the others granted to us.”
Nile has never been one to question that sort of sentiment. She spends the rest of the afternoon showing him just how much she agrees. Along with taking her pleasure in how he does the same to her in turn.
Later that day, as the sun dips below the horizon, the team is finishing up dinner and cleaning up. Quynh invites everyone to a game of Risk. Andy declines with a kiss to her wife, choosing to read a book in the corner of the room behind where the rest of them sit on the floor. “Not in the mood for game shenanigans that can go on for weeks,” she adamantly nods her head in reply.
Nicky and Joe are in for a game. Booker sits next to Quynh and begins sorting out pieces while Nile rises from her chair at the dining table and declines.
“Everything okay, mon amour?” Booker quickly asks, head snapping in her direction.
“Yeah, sure,” Nile easily replies. “It’s just that it’s wash day,” she twists her fingers through the coiled ends of her scarlet ombre passion twists. “Gotta take this all down before I hop in the shower. I’ll finish a new installation after that tomorrow.”
Joe immediately makes eye contact with Booker and jerks his head in Nile’s direction. Nicky flashes Booker a knowing grin even as Booker arches his brows in confusion. It causes Joe to roll his eyes while he calmly asks, “Guess you’ll need help with all of that, Nile?”
“I mean,” she shrugs, “I always manage on my ow-”
It suddenly dawns on Booker and he leaps to his feet. “I’ll help!” he exclaims. Only his centuries of honed reflexes means he doesn’t trip all over himself as he rebalances and draws himself to his full height. “Only if you want me to…need me to?” he quickly adds at Nile’s surprised look.
She rapidly blinks for a few seconds before she slowly nods her head in agreement. Her bright grin only adds to her assurance. “Thanks, Book. I’d like that,” she extends her hand to his. They quickly retreat and head up the stairs to their shared room.
“Took him long e-fucking-nough,” Quynh mutters as she takes over where Booker was beginning to line up the pieces on the board. Andy lets out a cackle of laughter from her seat on the aged chaise lounge up against the stone wall.
“I see you swooped into the rescue?” Nicky says against Joe’s ear.
“Nile most certainly had him on the path just fine,” Joe grins, “He just needed a little push.”
Nicky runs a gentle hand along the soft curly hair at the nape of Joe’s neck, causing him to lean back into him with a pleased sigh. “Speaking of which,” the Genoese continues, “When’s our next wash day?”
“Soon, my love,” Joe retorts with a kiss to the corner of Nicky’s mouth, “Soon, I promise you that.”