Fic: In Dawn's Early Light (1/1)
Title: In Dawn’s Early Light (1/1)
Author: BradyGirl
Pairings/Characters: Jim/Artie
Genre: Slice-Of-Life
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: Artie is not thrilled with life on the trail.
Date Of Completion: November 26, 2007
Date Of Posting: November 26, 2007
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 318
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Note: Written for my LJ First Anniversary Fic Request Meme for
khylara , who requested Jim/Artie. Prompt: Dawn. :)
Artie awoke, groaning at the stiffness in his back. The cold, hard ground was not the most comfortable of beds. A saddle was not the fluffiest of pillows. Artie was not the happiest of campers when he had to camp out.
Luxury, that was the ticket. Good food, good wine, a soft bed, clean sheets and blankets…and a warm body next to him.
Particularly if that warm body was one James T. West.
He cracked open an eye and saw the fire lit in the center of their campsite, a pot of coffee boiling over the flames. Hardtack was set out, and Artie dearly wished for some bacon and eggs. Jim could boil coffee without burning it, so that was a plus. Damn, if only one could carry around leftover chicken or beef other than jerky. His stomach rumbled.
He scratched his chin. Needed a shave, of course. And he needed to use the tooth powder in his saddlebag.
His clothes were rumpled and his hair was mussed. He hadn’t slept well and so he looked bleary-eyed with the aforementioned stubble. He could use a bath. He closed his eye and yawned. Being on the trail for days on end didn’t bode well as to gentlemanly appearance.
The sun was barely up and the wind blowing down the canyon was cold. Artie shivered and drew his coat closer around his body. Damn megalomaniacal villains and their world domination schemes, anyway. Why couldn’t they just stay in one place and rant their “I shall rule the world!” monologues?
When he opened both eyes he saw Jim squatting by the fire, dressed in his leather chaps, his shirtsleeves rolled up, his hair uncombed and his face sporting stubble, too. His green eyes were weary and his hand trembled slightly from exhaustion. Obviously he had not slept well, either.
To Artie, there was no more beautiful sight in all the world.
Author: BradyGirl
Pairings/Characters: Jim/Artie
Genre: Slice-Of-Life
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: Artie is not thrilled with life on the trail.
Date Of Completion: November 26, 2007
Date Of Posting: November 26, 2007
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 318
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Note: Written for my LJ First Anniversary Fic Request Meme for
khylara , who requested Jim/Artie. Prompt: Dawn. :)
Artie awoke, groaning at the stiffness in his back. The cold, hard ground was not the most comfortable of beds. A saddle was not the fluffiest of pillows. Artie was not the happiest of campers when he had to camp out.
Luxury, that was the ticket. Good food, good wine, a soft bed, clean sheets and blankets…and a warm body next to him.
Particularly if that warm body was one James T. West.
He cracked open an eye and saw the fire lit in the center of their campsite, a pot of coffee boiling over the flames. Hardtack was set out, and Artie dearly wished for some bacon and eggs. Jim could boil coffee without burning it, so that was a plus. Damn, if only one could carry around leftover chicken or beef other than jerky. His stomach rumbled.
He scratched his chin. Needed a shave, of course. And he needed to use the tooth powder in his saddlebag.
His clothes were rumpled and his hair was mussed. He hadn’t slept well and so he looked bleary-eyed with the aforementioned stubble. He could use a bath. He closed his eye and yawned. Being on the trail for days on end didn’t bode well as to gentlemanly appearance.
The sun was barely up and the wind blowing down the canyon was cold. Artie shivered and drew his coat closer around his body. Damn megalomaniacal villains and their world domination schemes, anyway. Why couldn’t they just stay in one place and rant their “I shall rule the world!” monologues?
When he opened both eyes he saw Jim squatting by the fire, dressed in his leather chaps, his shirtsleeves rolled up, his hair uncombed and his face sporting stubble, too. His green eyes were weary and his hand trembled slightly from exhaustion. Obviously he had not slept well, either.
To Artie, there was no more beautiful sight in all the world.