Hey guys! this is just a collection of one-shots about my OTP, Sandhir! I'm pretty used to, so apologies to the ones who don't catch the references.
It was 12 in the night. Sanyukta sat on her couch, laptop on lap, working away at a blueprint which was unfinished. She was just finishing by putting her name at the end. Sanyukta Agarwal Singh Shekhawat. A long name nevertheless; but she was determined to keep her maiden name and also make it clear that she was her MCP's wife. Her irritating, yet lovable genius MCP, Randhir Singh Shekhawat, the one who was missing right now. It was midnight, for God's sake!
That was when the door opened.
"You know, this is one of the reasons why I still hate you sometimes. Have you no sense of personal safety?" said Randhir, an annoyed, but genuine smile on his face on seeing Sanyukta on the couch, working on the laptop. He took off his coat, the warmth of his centrally heated house sinking in. Sanyukta was wearing a light sweater & sitting inside the quilt, working without a sound. Delhi winters; they aggravated him sometimes.
"I'm so sorry. But I hate the bell ringing in the night. It's irritating," she said with a frown, head tilted, looking at him. He couldn't help but smile.
"And what about the huge questions of safety?"
"Well, tum ho na," she said with a grin.
"Yeah right. Ab tak toh akeli thi."
"Anyways. You're here, I'm here."
"True. Now get me some coffee. Mrs. Shekhawat. I'm freezing inside."
"So I'm supposed to do all the household work? Really Randhir; once an MCP, always an MCP."
"Come on! You've been awake for like three-" when she cut in.
"Four."
"Four hours! I just came in 187 seconds back!"
"194."
"Sanyukta, you're impossible. I'll do it myself," he said heading to the kitchen. She was already there, taking out the coffee powder.
"I can do at least this much. Thanks a lot for covering up for me," she said, taking out the mugs. He handed her a spoon.
"You weren't well. I should do at least this much for my wife. She's a human, not a freaking machine," he replied. They stood in the kitchen, him putting the milk to heating. He drank black coffee, but Sanyukta liked it with milk. Mine sweet and lovable like me; and yours bitter but addictive like you, she'd quipped one rainy day.
"I know; By the way, what did Bruckenheimer's think of the presentation?"
"They loved it. Asked me where my better half was."
"And your reply?"
"Dozing away on the sofa with the laptop lying on her chest."
"You-!"
"Obviously not. I told them you were running a fever and chills, hence the no-show."
"Thank God. Else where would my reputation have gone?"
"Nowhere. You're the co-owner of DesignCraft Industries. You also happen to be the wife of the good-looking, charming, devious genius Mr. Randhir Singh Shekhawat."
"Who is also an MCP, an idiot - albeit a lovable one and a man who winces like a four-year old when his wife pinches him," she said, pinching him.
"Ouch! That was bad."
"Like I said."
"Here's the milk. Now hand me the coffee."
"Here you go." The rest of the time passed in silence. Randhir noticed the untouched plates on the rack, and how there was no food cooked and kept.
"Sanyukta?"
"Yes?" she answered him.
"You haven't eaten," he said, motioning towards the untouched cutlery.
"Oh; I wasn't hungry. But I ate-" she said, looking at that angry expression. "-A little to take my medicines."
"Sanyukta, I can see what you ate," he said, pointing to an empty 250 ml pack of apple juice. "You have to eat. And by that, I mean ingest solid edibles. Sit down. I'll cook something."
"Randhir, you weren't even in a shape to make coffee, in your own words, mark you, and now you wish to make food?"
"Yes, since you're so stubborn and strong-headed that you won't eat if I don't make it."
"Right. And what will you make?"
"Something you love. Now move; shoo, out of the kitchen, Mrs. Agarwal Singh Shekhawat. This isn't just your domain." He concentrated on cutting the vegetables for the pizza and not his fingers. last him he tried, he ended up knocking on the bathroom door, begging for Sanyukta to come out since he couldn't bandage himself. She ran out in a bathrobe, hastily tied, which was threatening to open any moment, causing Randhir to get fidgety. He couldn't resist her, especially in such a vulnerable and partially naked state. After she was done bandaging him, she got up to investigate the cause of this, and he stopped her just in the nick of time. He didn't need another lecture on how not to meddle in tasks that he couldn't manage.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, pinning her to the wall.
"Isn't your hand injured?" she asked, trying to move. He simply leaned in closer.
"Yes, but I think I need to repay you for the service you've done for me."
"What nonsense are you talking?" she said, struggling to move. Boy, was he not strong. He smirked.
"It's been quite long since we've had any fun."
"Randhir, this is not the time."
"Oh, I think it is. With you in such a state," he said, using his uninjured hand to lazily roam along the hem of her bathrobe, occasionally touching her skin. His cool hand was a stark contrast to her warm showered skin, and she slightly shuddered at the touch. "And me too, which is why I think I need that heat from you," he said, coming closer and kissing Sanyukta. That was his ace; she practically forgot where she was when he did that, and for the following few moments, the two were busy in kissing the breath out of the other. "Now now, it isn't you to be so greedy," he said, gently pulling away, while kissing her jawline. It was when the phone rang that Randhir got a chance to clean the mess he created and end this distraction he put up, though he couldn't say in a million years that he didn't enjoy it.
"It's Kaustuki," she said.
"Then take it, sweetheart. She probably wants to tell you something important that Jiggy has been raving about since the last 48 hours," he said and dashed for the kitchen, cleaning all the mess in swift moves. "Bless you Kaustuki," he murmured. "And Junior Kaustuki too," he said with a chuckle, as he heard Sanyukta's elated "What?" and "Congratulations!" When she entered the kitchen, everything was fine; even the bloody knife had been hastily done away with. She then proceeded to eat the pizza he had prepared and was slightly angry when she tasted the sauce, which was oddly too salty and rusty for sauce and was turning brown at the crust. He had noticed the abrupt change in expression and was going for the door when she caught his hand.
"So you cut your hand while cooking. Is that so hard to admit?" she said with a smile. He drifted out of that memory when a small part of his brain told him that he was cooking, and that he might end up burning the roti that was to serve as his base.
Sanyukta waited for what seemed like eternity, when Randhir emerged from the kitchen, his shirt smeared with schezuan sauce and cheese, with a touch-up of flour. "I am done," he said with a smile; she just hoped that the hand he was hiding contained just the pizza and not another cut finger. He presented the delicacy he'd cooked for her. It was actually a crazy dish she had come up with, only Randhir had made it crazier. She'd made a pizza with schezuan and cheese, albeit with a normal base. It was her then-boyfriend and now husband who decided to give it a desi twist by making the roti as the base. It was a combination of all the things they loved. After they were done with their crazy yet delicious meal, the two got down to business. Randhir tossed her a few files and she went down to finish those.
The cups of coffee sat at their designated places on the center table of the living room while the two worked on the couch tucked under the quilt. Occasionally Sanyukta or Randhir moved a little closer to the other and they worked on without a hitch. This continued till five o'clock, when the two workaholic lovebirds had fallen asleep with their laptops running in front of them, Randhir's arms around an asleep Sanyukta, himself snoring slightly, and Sanyukta occasionally murmuring in her sleep, "kharrate mat lo. I can't sleep, my MCP."
Anupamaa
