An Autumn Morning - WaT Fic
Title: An Autumn Morning
Fandom: Without A Trace
Word Count: 800
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Martin looked out and looked up, breathing evenly, peacefully.
Disclaimer: I do not own Without A Trace. Plain and simple.
Notes: I wrote fluff. I am still recovering from Casino Royale. I shall blame it on that.
Martin’s apartment window curtains swayed slowly in the light breeze, filtering in cool air and soft morning sunlight. Children could be heard playing on the street below. They tossed a football around and shouted in blissfulness under the long shadows of the buildings that hid them in from the sun’s first rays as the hour slowly wore on, bringing forth yet another tedious day at school. Cars passed, wary of the kids and of their cell phones as they rang away in their purses and backpacks and glove compartments, only to unanswered and irritably drowned out by morning radio.
Several streets down, drowning out the monotonous DJs and talk show hosts, came the melancholy wails of an ambulance, the insistent chirps of a police interception slowly working its way through morning-hour traffic, the high-pitched sirens of a sleek new fire engine on its way to pick a toddler from a twelve-foot shed roof. Wide eyes of blue and brown and gold and green peered from the windows of minivans as these symbols of childhood heroism wove through the traffic, past the very windows these gazes were glued to.
Today, a day like any other day, no more special than a fraction of a second in an entire minute, in the rotation of a bat after a mighty swing, the sun was shining. The clouds dispersed over night, before midnight of the new day or perhaps after the clocks struck twelve when the world could stop mourning on the anniversary and tuck away grief for another time, past or present or future, and in the morning, gave way to something bright and beautiful and forever there. Something that nobody could take away, not a belief or a religion or a genocide; something that somebody lonely and cold and looking for a new beginning for the rest of their lives could look up to and be changed by the simplicity that the rays of the sun did when it fell on a tired face.
Martin looked out and looked up, breathing evenly, peacefully. Behind him Danny stood, chin buried gently in the crook of Martin’s shoulder, arms wrapped loosely around Martin’s waist, staring up into the same bright blue sky, untouched by the wisps of white clouds, undaunted by the rains which had so ominously threatened the city only hours ago. Every breath Martin took, Danny felt the calm movement through his chest, and their breaths were soon synchronized, something that he could have and most definitely would have found comical had the sky not been so hypnotizing, so spell-bindingly blue that he simply could not tear his eyes away.
Bright white-yellow rays bore down on the streets through the gaps of buildings, lit the black asphalt up into long shining beacons, reflected off windscreens and hoods of parked cars, centers of light winking as the sun rose higher yet, and finally, as Martin breathed in deep, breaking their synchrony Danny was able to pull his stare from the sky, focusing in on the fluttering curtains framing the apartment window, and then on Martin’s cheek. He pressed into him a bit tighter, a modified back-embrace, and smiled against Martin’s cheek as the man leaned into him. “We got the whole day off and you’re up early,” he said.
“Kids.”
And though Danny could not see Martin’s grin, he could feel it. It was contagious, and despite the time, 7.00 sharp, according to the luminous green numbers on the alarm clock to his left, he was forced to bite back the sudden urge to smile and instead said, “Kids may’ve woken you up, but you woke me up, pal.”
Martin smirked and shifted in Danny’s embrace, most likely hoping to turn around and face his accuser. Danny granted him little room to turn, and gave him just enough time to level shoulders before pressing up against him tighter than before, matching Martin’s smirk in frightening detail. His bare skin was warm through the thin material of his shirt, and Danny mentally cursed his morning-after modesty, wishing badly to rip the shirt from his shoulders and throw it out the window, damn the poor soul whom it lands upon. He wanted to feel Martin against him, on him, in him like he had been last night, knuckles twisted up in clean linens. His shit-eating grin only grew wider at the mere thought.
Martin’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What’re you thinking?”
“Oh, I don’t think you’d be opposed,” Danny said casually and shrugged, and even if someone was going to go missing today, someone on the very street below them, someone down the hall, someone across the city playing the piano or reading the paper and not thinking of the perils that lay ahead in the day, he was happy and more importantly, they were alive.
Fandom: Without A Trace
Word Count: 800
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Martin looked out and looked up, breathing evenly, peacefully.
Disclaimer: I do not own Without A Trace. Plain and simple.
Notes: I wrote fluff. I am still recovering from Casino Royale. I shall blame it on that.
Martin’s apartment window curtains swayed slowly in the light breeze, filtering in cool air and soft morning sunlight. Children could be heard playing on the street below. They tossed a football around and shouted in blissfulness under the long shadows of the buildings that hid them in from the sun’s first rays as the hour slowly wore on, bringing forth yet another tedious day at school. Cars passed, wary of the kids and of their cell phones as they rang away in their purses and backpacks and glove compartments, only to unanswered and irritably drowned out by morning radio.
Several streets down, drowning out the monotonous DJs and talk show hosts, came the melancholy wails of an ambulance, the insistent chirps of a police interception slowly working its way through morning-hour traffic, the high-pitched sirens of a sleek new fire engine on its way to pick a toddler from a twelve-foot shed roof. Wide eyes of blue and brown and gold and green peered from the windows of minivans as these symbols of childhood heroism wove through the traffic, past the very windows these gazes were glued to.
Today, a day like any other day, no more special than a fraction of a second in an entire minute, in the rotation of a bat after a mighty swing, the sun was shining. The clouds dispersed over night, before midnight of the new day or perhaps after the clocks struck twelve when the world could stop mourning on the anniversary and tuck away grief for another time, past or present or future, and in the morning, gave way to something bright and beautiful and forever there. Something that nobody could take away, not a belief or a religion or a genocide; something that somebody lonely and cold and looking for a new beginning for the rest of their lives could look up to and be changed by the simplicity that the rays of the sun did when it fell on a tired face.
Martin looked out and looked up, breathing evenly, peacefully. Behind him Danny stood, chin buried gently in the crook of Martin’s shoulder, arms wrapped loosely around Martin’s waist, staring up into the same bright blue sky, untouched by the wisps of white clouds, undaunted by the rains which had so ominously threatened the city only hours ago. Every breath Martin took, Danny felt the calm movement through his chest, and their breaths were soon synchronized, something that he could have and most definitely would have found comical had the sky not been so hypnotizing, so spell-bindingly blue that he simply could not tear his eyes away.
Bright white-yellow rays bore down on the streets through the gaps of buildings, lit the black asphalt up into long shining beacons, reflected off windscreens and hoods of parked cars, centers of light winking as the sun rose higher yet, and finally, as Martin breathed in deep, breaking their synchrony Danny was able to pull his stare from the sky, focusing in on the fluttering curtains framing the apartment window, and then on Martin’s cheek. He pressed into him a bit tighter, a modified back-embrace, and smiled against Martin’s cheek as the man leaned into him. “We got the whole day off and you’re up early,” he said.
“Kids.”
And though Danny could not see Martin’s grin, he could feel it. It was contagious, and despite the time, 7.00 sharp, according to the luminous green numbers on the alarm clock to his left, he was forced to bite back the sudden urge to smile and instead said, “Kids may’ve woken you up, but you woke me up, pal.”
Martin smirked and shifted in Danny’s embrace, most likely hoping to turn around and face his accuser. Danny granted him little room to turn, and gave him just enough time to level shoulders before pressing up against him tighter than before, matching Martin’s smirk in frightening detail. His bare skin was warm through the thin material of his shirt, and Danny mentally cursed his morning-after modesty, wishing badly to rip the shirt from his shoulders and throw it out the window, damn the poor soul whom it lands upon. He wanted to feel Martin against him, on him, in him like he had been last night, knuckles twisted up in clean linens. His shit-eating grin only grew wider at the mere thought.
Martin’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What’re you thinking?”
“Oh, I don’t think you’d be opposed,” Danny said casually and shrugged, and even if someone was going to go missing today, someone on the very street below them, someone down the hall, someone across the city playing the piano or reading the paper and not thinking of the perils that lay ahead in the day, he was happy and more importantly, they were alive.