Like Power To Power
Challenge: Cranberry 2 - The Magician
Story: Colours Don't Run
Title: Like Power To Power
Universe: Modern Day
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2020
Summary: Teresa thinks back to one crazy day when she finally got what Nick was all about.
If she's honest with herself, Teresa always thought Nick was kind of an arse. Well, maybe only to begin with, really. It took time to wear off, gradually. When she finally got sick of him glaring at her through his messy fringe, and just snapped back 'what's your problem anyway?'. At least it got him talking.
Feeding him bacon all the time probably helps. Despite his violent protests.
***
Teresa reaches across the table, and scrapes the remaining two slices of bacon and a lonely egg onto Nick's empty plate. He looks up at her accusingly.
“I - what is this?” he snaps, as though it doesn't happen every morning that they sit down to a cooked breakfast. “Still trying to fatten me up? Is it heart disease, is that what you want?”
Teresa isn't the slightest bit ruffled by his ungracious behaviour. It's a reflex action to give him the extra food anyway - she barely notices that she's doing it anymore. “Yes, yes, Nick,” she replies wearily. “You're too damned skinny. What did you eat as a kid, broth?”
Nick glares at her, whilst Adrian politely swallows his last mouthful of toast. “I don't think anyone actually eats broth anymore, Teresa. That's more, you know, Oliver Twist, really,” he says helpfully.
“I- yes, thank you, Adrian.”
Nick wrinkles his nose slightly, ignoring this last exchange. “I'm not skinny,” he says, almost sulkily, except Nikolaus Köhler thinks to much of himself to be caught sulking. “Unless you want me to be...well, like you.” He reaches over and pokes Teresa's somewhat pudgy arm.
The girl's eyes suddenly narrow. “What's that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing, I'm just-”
“He thinks you're fat,” Adrian says, again in his bright, helpful tone. He scoops the last tomato from the pan onto his plate. “Sometimes he says 'who ate all the pies'. I don't think it's very nice. You aren't fat, Teresa.”
“Yes, thank you, Adrian.”
***
So, she didn't like him over much. All the things that other people said about him seemed to ring true - he was arrogant, and standoffish, and highly insulting; and how on earth did Adrian put up with it, anyway?
But the thing you have to remember about Nikolaus is that he has, effectively, just had the rug pulled out from under his feet. In the same situation, Teresa is pretty sure that she wouldn't be terribly sociable either.
It took her a while to get it, and she thinks that she probably hurt his feelings a lot along the way. Teresa is clumsy like that - she rushes in without knowing everything (or, really, anything) and says something painful without realising. It's hard to know when you've hurt Nick anyway, because he constantly looks like someone has kicked him in the stomach. Teresa never liked people who frowned too much. But after the thunder storm, everything slid into place with an almost audible 'click'; and now she believes he might one day become the man he was supposed to be all along.
***
As the grumbling travelled from cloud to cloud above the house, Adrian looked up from his book, glasses perched on the end of his nose. The noise sank to a near constant rumble as the clouds darkened over head. He squinted at the figure stood outside. “Oh,” he said, quietly.
Paul looked over to him. “What is it?”
“Ah...nothing,” Adrian said weakly.
Paul wasn't fooled for a moment, feeling cautious of the bad weather. He'd just been instructing the kids to unplug any electrics in the house. “Why are the patio doors open?”
Adrian jumped; he hadn't even noticed the glass doors still open, with a wet breeze ruffling the curtains. “Erm.”
The man's expression went flat. “Tell me it's not the German boy.”
Adrian became very interested in his book, just as Teresa wandered in from the kitchen, drawn by curiosity.
“Is everything all right?” she asked. “I love the thunder, it's such a nice-”
Paul was ignoring her, crossing the room in long strides. “Tell me,” he started again, crossly. “It's not the German boy.”
Teresa and Adrian shared a look. “This is bad?” Teresa asked.
Paul glanced out of the glass doors and made a noise of disgust. “Stupid- He'll bring the storm right on top of us!”
Teresa joined them by the doors. “Oh, I don't think that thunder storms work like that...” she said, slowly.
Adrian jabbed the back of her leg with his foot. “Nick is a lightning mage, isn't he? I mean, was.”
Teresa opened her mouth, but her brain didn't supply her with anything useful to say. “Oh,” she settled for, lamely.
Paul sighed dismally. “It's the storms,” he said quietly. “We haven't had one for a while round here. They love him. They just, they love him.”
“I don't think that I understand.” Teresa peeked around him to look outside. Further up the lawn, stood alone in the middle of the grass, Nick was staring up at the sky, wearing only a t-shirt and jeans. He had bare feet.
“They're drawn to him, like power to power. Lightning has a kind of consciousness for him. He's something warm and safe; a friend. It runs to him.”
“Oh,” Teresa said again. “That doesn't sound terribly safe.”
“Tell me about it. I have London's biggest lightning conductor wandering around my back garden.” Paul pinched the bridge of his nose.
As the rain finally broke free of the dark clouds in a loud hiss, Adrian shut his book on his lap, and took his glasses off. “I think he knows what he's doing,” he ventured.
“Be quiet!” Paul snapped. “I'm trying to think.”
The rain spread into sheets, obscuring their vision, and making Nick into a blobby, indistinct figure - his face turned upwards.
Teresa quietly crouched down, and took off her shoes and socks. Paul was too busy panicking to notice; he was pacing around the room and muttering the situation to other people as they started trickling in. Janet, in particular, chose the melodramatic approach, along the lines of 'the boy will kill us all'; which even Paul felt was rather extreme.
“I understand now,” Teresa said, very quietly, so that only Adrian could hear. Her voice was distant, and she was staring vacantly out at the garden. “It makes sense to me.”
Adrian looked at her for a long time. “Well, if you think so.”
Her face became uncertain, and she flickered a glance over to him. “What do you think?”
“You're about as mad as him. I'm sort of confused as to why you're still here.”
She flashed him a quick grin, and carefully stepped out onto the patio, wiggling her toes as the soles of her feet touched the wet stone. Down the steps, splashing through the puddle that had already gathered. The rain fell even harder; she couldn't be sure if it wasn't hail. But it was the wrong time of year for that.
“Teresa!” Paul shouted. “I wouldn't do that...”
“Ugh, you'll be soaked through, child!”
The wet grass squashed between her toes, and she stamped her feet around more than necessary to enjoy the feeling a little longer. Then she caught sight of the blurry boy, and headed towards him, with purposeful steps.
The thunder was much much closer now, and the sky flashed brilliant white. Teresa only hesitated once, then sprinted the rest of the way, and nearly crashed into Nick.
The boy didn't seem surprised to find her there. He didn't look away from the sky. “Hello,” he said, a little dreamily.
“Er,” Teresa started. “Yes, hi.” There was a silence, which Nick made no attempt to fill. “It's...rather wet, Nick.”
“Mmm, is it?”
Oh, it was going to be one of those conversations. “Nick?”
“Yes?”
“Do you want the lightning to hit you?”
He blinked, and glanced down at her for a moment. “I miss it.” There was a longing to his voice. Another flash of lightning, and a thunderclap followed almost immediately.
“Are you bringing the storm on top of us? Only, they aren't too keen on that.”
Nick shrugged, and raised his hand to the sky. “But I miss it,” he said again. “Do you understand?”
“You know, I think that I do.”
He nodded. “Oh!” he gasped, which was the most emotion Teresa had ever heard from him. “I think I found it.”
Teresa blinked water out of her eyes, shuffling in her drenched clothes. “Oh yes?” she asked vaguely, not sure where this was going.
“The perfect one. Yes. I think I want that one.”
Warning bells sounded in her head. “'That one' what?” she asked, cautiously.
When he looked back at her, it was with a round-eyed innocence of a child years younger. “Lightning bolt, of course,” he said, happily.
“Ah.” Teresa's voice went weak for a moment. “I had a feeling you'd say that.”
It was as though Nick wasn't Nick anymore. He had a smile pasted all across his face, and sparkling eyes. He giggled a little. “Don't worry, it'll be fine!”
Once, Teresa had killed a water demon by exposing it to too much of its own element. She showered it with so much water that it became drunk, intoxicated, with all the power, and stood there helplessly, drinking it in. That's what Nick looked like now. Ecstatic, joyful, and utterly helpless.
“It'll be fine, will it?” His enthusiasm was catching though.
“Yes!” And with that, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer. His other arm was still up in the air, pointing directly to the sky. “I promise. Can you feel it? On its way.”
Teresa thought that she could, a light behind her eyes, the sensation of wanting to sneeze but not being able to. Her feet felt floaty, as though she could lift them up and she'd be up in the air. Moments before, Nick pulled her against him and wrapped his free arm around her waist.
And then the glittering, speeding light made its arcing journey from the depths of the clouds through the air, and slammed onto Nick's grasping fingertips.
Teresa's world turned to fire.
It shot down Nick's arm, and filled his whole body, spreading across the hers. Burning and searing and blindingly white and perfect. It lasted forever, stuck in a universe of colourless fire where breathing was impossible, and all she could do was cling on tight. This wasn't being drunk on magic, or intoxicated, this was what having an orgasm was supposed to feel like, all over her body.
And then it was all gone, and she was lying breathless, face up, in the rain. Mud pooled around her hair as it sank into the squelchy grass. Nick collapsed next to her, and she barely noticed.
Again and again, sucking oxygen into her lungs, as though she hadn't breathed in years, gasping and spluttering - spitting out rainwater.
Her lungs were on fire, but nothing else was. No burns along her skin, or even pain. She flopped her head uselessly to the side, and saw Nick's arm was uninjured too. Then she had to face back up again, in a desperate attempt to get enough air. The grass tickled at her nose too much.
Nick's hand flapped about on the ground for a bit until he found her fingertips, and squeezed.
“You're fucking insane,” she whispered.
“Oh, I know,” Nick puffed.
They lay in the mud for a while, until Teresa's vision was darkened by a sudden blot. She blinked a few times, to see Adrian stood above them, smirk on face and hands on hips. He raised an eyebrow.
“Well, if you're quite finished.”
Story Index | Character Guide
Story: Colours Don't Run
Title: Like Power To Power
Universe: Modern Day
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2020
Summary: Teresa thinks back to one crazy day when she finally got what Nick was all about.
If she's honest with herself, Teresa always thought Nick was kind of an arse. Well, maybe only to begin with, really. It took time to wear off, gradually. When she finally got sick of him glaring at her through his messy fringe, and just snapped back 'what's your problem anyway?'. At least it got him talking.
Feeding him bacon all the time probably helps. Despite his violent protests.
***
Teresa reaches across the table, and scrapes the remaining two slices of bacon and a lonely egg onto Nick's empty plate. He looks up at her accusingly.
“I - what is this?” he snaps, as though it doesn't happen every morning that they sit down to a cooked breakfast. “Still trying to fatten me up? Is it heart disease, is that what you want?”
Teresa isn't the slightest bit ruffled by his ungracious behaviour. It's a reflex action to give him the extra food anyway - she barely notices that she's doing it anymore. “Yes, yes, Nick,” she replies wearily. “You're too damned skinny. What did you eat as a kid, broth?”
Nick glares at her, whilst Adrian politely swallows his last mouthful of toast. “I don't think anyone actually eats broth anymore, Teresa. That's more, you know, Oliver Twist, really,” he says helpfully.
“I- yes, thank you, Adrian.”
Nick wrinkles his nose slightly, ignoring this last exchange. “I'm not skinny,” he says, almost sulkily, except Nikolaus Köhler thinks to much of himself to be caught sulking. “Unless you want me to be...well, like you.” He reaches over and pokes Teresa's somewhat pudgy arm.
The girl's eyes suddenly narrow. “What's that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing, I'm just-”
“He thinks you're fat,” Adrian says, again in his bright, helpful tone. He scoops the last tomato from the pan onto his plate. “Sometimes he says 'who ate all the pies'. I don't think it's very nice. You aren't fat, Teresa.”
“Yes, thank you, Adrian.”
***
So, she didn't like him over much. All the things that other people said about him seemed to ring true - he was arrogant, and standoffish, and highly insulting; and how on earth did Adrian put up with it, anyway?
But the thing you have to remember about Nikolaus is that he has, effectively, just had the rug pulled out from under his feet. In the same situation, Teresa is pretty sure that she wouldn't be terribly sociable either.
It took her a while to get it, and she thinks that she probably hurt his feelings a lot along the way. Teresa is clumsy like that - she rushes in without knowing everything (or, really, anything) and says something painful without realising. It's hard to know when you've hurt Nick anyway, because he constantly looks like someone has kicked him in the stomach. Teresa never liked people who frowned too much. But after the thunder storm, everything slid into place with an almost audible 'click'; and now she believes he might one day become the man he was supposed to be all along.
***
As the grumbling travelled from cloud to cloud above the house, Adrian looked up from his book, glasses perched on the end of his nose. The noise sank to a near constant rumble as the clouds darkened over head. He squinted at the figure stood outside. “Oh,” he said, quietly.
Paul looked over to him. “What is it?”
“Ah...nothing,” Adrian said weakly.
Paul wasn't fooled for a moment, feeling cautious of the bad weather. He'd just been instructing the kids to unplug any electrics in the house. “Why are the patio doors open?”
Adrian jumped; he hadn't even noticed the glass doors still open, with a wet breeze ruffling the curtains. “Erm.”
The man's expression went flat. “Tell me it's not the German boy.”
Adrian became very interested in his book, just as Teresa wandered in from the kitchen, drawn by curiosity.
“Is everything all right?” she asked. “I love the thunder, it's such a nice-”
Paul was ignoring her, crossing the room in long strides. “Tell me,” he started again, crossly. “It's not the German boy.”
Teresa and Adrian shared a look. “This is bad?” Teresa asked.
Paul glanced out of the glass doors and made a noise of disgust. “Stupid- He'll bring the storm right on top of us!”
Teresa joined them by the doors. “Oh, I don't think that thunder storms work like that...” she said, slowly.
Adrian jabbed the back of her leg with his foot. “Nick is a lightning mage, isn't he? I mean, was.”
Teresa opened her mouth, but her brain didn't supply her with anything useful to say. “Oh,” she settled for, lamely.
Paul sighed dismally. “It's the storms,” he said quietly. “We haven't had one for a while round here. They love him. They just, they love him.”
“I don't think that I understand.” Teresa peeked around him to look outside. Further up the lawn, stood alone in the middle of the grass, Nick was staring up at the sky, wearing only a t-shirt and jeans. He had bare feet.
“They're drawn to him, like power to power. Lightning has a kind of consciousness for him. He's something warm and safe; a friend. It runs to him.”
“Oh,” Teresa said again. “That doesn't sound terribly safe.”
“Tell me about it. I have London's biggest lightning conductor wandering around my back garden.” Paul pinched the bridge of his nose.
As the rain finally broke free of the dark clouds in a loud hiss, Adrian shut his book on his lap, and took his glasses off. “I think he knows what he's doing,” he ventured.
“Be quiet!” Paul snapped. “I'm trying to think.”
The rain spread into sheets, obscuring their vision, and making Nick into a blobby, indistinct figure - his face turned upwards.
Teresa quietly crouched down, and took off her shoes and socks. Paul was too busy panicking to notice; he was pacing around the room and muttering the situation to other people as they started trickling in. Janet, in particular, chose the melodramatic approach, along the lines of 'the boy will kill us all'; which even Paul felt was rather extreme.
“I understand now,” Teresa said, very quietly, so that only Adrian could hear. Her voice was distant, and she was staring vacantly out at the garden. “It makes sense to me.”
Adrian looked at her for a long time. “Well, if you think so.”
Her face became uncertain, and she flickered a glance over to him. “What do you think?”
“You're about as mad as him. I'm sort of confused as to why you're still here.”
She flashed him a quick grin, and carefully stepped out onto the patio, wiggling her toes as the soles of her feet touched the wet stone. Down the steps, splashing through the puddle that had already gathered. The rain fell even harder; she couldn't be sure if it wasn't hail. But it was the wrong time of year for that.
“Teresa!” Paul shouted. “I wouldn't do that...”
“Ugh, you'll be soaked through, child!”
The wet grass squashed between her toes, and she stamped her feet around more than necessary to enjoy the feeling a little longer. Then she caught sight of the blurry boy, and headed towards him, with purposeful steps.
The thunder was much much closer now, and the sky flashed brilliant white. Teresa only hesitated once, then sprinted the rest of the way, and nearly crashed into Nick.
The boy didn't seem surprised to find her there. He didn't look away from the sky. “Hello,” he said, a little dreamily.
“Er,” Teresa started. “Yes, hi.” There was a silence, which Nick made no attempt to fill. “It's...rather wet, Nick.”
“Mmm, is it?”
Oh, it was going to be one of those conversations. “Nick?”
“Yes?”
“Do you want the lightning to hit you?”
He blinked, and glanced down at her for a moment. “I miss it.” There was a longing to his voice. Another flash of lightning, and a thunderclap followed almost immediately.
“Are you bringing the storm on top of us? Only, they aren't too keen on that.”
Nick shrugged, and raised his hand to the sky. “But I miss it,” he said again. “Do you understand?”
“You know, I think that I do.”
He nodded. “Oh!” he gasped, which was the most emotion Teresa had ever heard from him. “I think I found it.”
Teresa blinked water out of her eyes, shuffling in her drenched clothes. “Oh yes?” she asked vaguely, not sure where this was going.
“The perfect one. Yes. I think I want that one.”
Warning bells sounded in her head. “'That one' what?” she asked, cautiously.
When he looked back at her, it was with a round-eyed innocence of a child years younger. “Lightning bolt, of course,” he said, happily.
“Ah.” Teresa's voice went weak for a moment. “I had a feeling you'd say that.”
It was as though Nick wasn't Nick anymore. He had a smile pasted all across his face, and sparkling eyes. He giggled a little. “Don't worry, it'll be fine!”
Once, Teresa had killed a water demon by exposing it to too much of its own element. She showered it with so much water that it became drunk, intoxicated, with all the power, and stood there helplessly, drinking it in. That's what Nick looked like now. Ecstatic, joyful, and utterly helpless.
“It'll be fine, will it?” His enthusiasm was catching though.
“Yes!” And with that, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer. His other arm was still up in the air, pointing directly to the sky. “I promise. Can you feel it? On its way.”
Teresa thought that she could, a light behind her eyes, the sensation of wanting to sneeze but not being able to. Her feet felt floaty, as though she could lift them up and she'd be up in the air. Moments before, Nick pulled her against him and wrapped his free arm around her waist.
And then the glittering, speeding light made its arcing journey from the depths of the clouds through the air, and slammed onto Nick's grasping fingertips.
Teresa's world turned to fire.
It shot down Nick's arm, and filled his whole body, spreading across the hers. Burning and searing and blindingly white and perfect. It lasted forever, stuck in a universe of colourless fire where breathing was impossible, and all she could do was cling on tight. This wasn't being drunk on magic, or intoxicated, this was what having an orgasm was supposed to feel like, all over her body.
And then it was all gone, and she was lying breathless, face up, in the rain. Mud pooled around her hair as it sank into the squelchy grass. Nick collapsed next to her, and she barely noticed.
Again and again, sucking oxygen into her lungs, as though she hadn't breathed in years, gasping and spluttering - spitting out rainwater.
Her lungs were on fire, but nothing else was. No burns along her skin, or even pain. She flopped her head uselessly to the side, and saw Nick's arm was uninjured too. Then she had to face back up again, in a desperate attempt to get enough air. The grass tickled at her nose too much.
Nick's hand flapped about on the ground for a bit until he found her fingertips, and squeezed.
“You're fucking insane,” she whispered.
“Oh, I know,” Nick puffed.
They lay in the mud for a while, until Teresa's vision was darkened by a sudden blot. She blinked a few times, to see Adrian stood above them, smirk on face and hands on hips. He raised an eyebrow.
“Well, if you're quite finished.”
Story Index | Character Guide