[Fic] "A Cloudy Morning Is No Guarantee" -- The Magnus Archives
Summary: Jon gets an unexpected text on a bad day. [500 words]
Note: Written for
sholio, in response to the prompt: Any/original, an unexpected piece of mail on a bad day. Part of Hold Me: a comfort promptfest hosted by
sholio.
[ETA: the AO3 crosspost is now up!]
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A Cloudy Morning Is No Guarantee
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"Oh, for the love of-- what now?" Jon snaps at his phone, which had the temerity to bleep at him exactly when a nebulous hunch was about to coalesce into a useful connection, but which is now, in consequence of the interruption, hopelessly lost. This whole day has been a miserable comedy of errors, from the hole in his left sock to the bus spraying him with filthy puddle water to the unexpected raw onion in his lunch sandwich... to say nothing of the obvious twaddle he's stuck combing through as background research for yet another spurious statement. With his luck, the text is either spam or his phone company informing him that they're hiking rates yet again.
He swipes angrily at the screen, jabs the message icon, then blinks in surprise.
The text is from Georgie.
It's short and without context, just 'watch this' and an encrypted link. Jon drums his pencil against his desk, half surprised that Georgie hasn't deleted his number since the breakup. It's been three months and they hardly parted on speaking terms.
Then again, he hasn't deleted her number either.
Whatever she's sent, it's unlikely to be malicious. Georgie's too straightforward for that. But she's not above trying to get the last word in an argument. That's one of the things they have -- had -- have in common. In retrospect, that's probably also one of the reasons they imploded.
Still. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, and Jon's not going to look a gift attempt at renewed contact in the mouth.
He clicks the link.
It's a short video of a Savannah cat exploring a small Zen-style courtyard garden in the rain, darting from place to place and pawing at raindrops in puddles, before dashing back indoors when the rain picks up force. Something about the cat's intent focus and the steady splash of the rain against the leaves and stones is soothing, nearly hypnotic. Jon watches the video again, and a third time, and a fourth.
His shirt is still streaked with pavement dirt and oils, and his left big toe is still digging unpleasantly into his shoes, but his spine and jaw don't feel ready to snap anymore.
'Thank you,' he texts back to Georgie. 'I don't know your reasons for sending me that link, but it was precisely what I needed today.'
Georgie replies almost immediately: 'no reason, just saw it and thought of you
'glad it hit the spot'
Jon watches the video a fifth time, gathering his thoughts and trying to decide how to respond. In the end, he follows Georgie's lead: they were friends before they dated, after all, and it would be a shame to lose that bond entirely. 'Unfortunately I don't have any videos to offer in return. Would you like a rant on poorly-designed clairvoyance research instead?'
'you know what? that sounds like PRECISELY what I need today,' Georgie replies.
Jon smiles. Then he glances down at his infuriating research, draws a deep breath, and starts to type.
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End of Ficlet
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As you may have noticed, I really enjoy writing tiny finger exercises. :)
And now, sleep. If you want to comment on this post, you can do so over here on Dreamwidth, where there are currently (
comments)
Note: Written for
sholio, in response to the prompt: Any/original, an unexpected piece of mail on a bad day. Part of Hold Me: a comfort promptfest hosted by
sholio.
[ETA: the AO3 crosspost is now up!]
---------------------------------------------
A Cloudy Morning Is No Guarantee
---------------------------------------------
"Oh, for the love of-- what now?" Jon snaps at his phone, which had the temerity to bleep at him exactly when a nebulous hunch was about to coalesce into a useful connection, but which is now, in consequence of the interruption, hopelessly lost. This whole day has been a miserable comedy of errors, from the hole in his left sock to the bus spraying him with filthy puddle water to the unexpected raw onion in his lunch sandwich... to say nothing of the obvious twaddle he's stuck combing through as background research for yet another spurious statement. With his luck, the text is either spam or his phone company informing him that they're hiking rates yet again.
He swipes angrily at the screen, jabs the message icon, then blinks in surprise.
The text is from Georgie.
It's short and without context, just 'watch this' and an encrypted link. Jon drums his pencil against his desk, half surprised that Georgie hasn't deleted his number since the breakup. It's been three months and they hardly parted on speaking terms.
Then again, he hasn't deleted her number either.
Whatever she's sent, it's unlikely to be malicious. Georgie's too straightforward for that. But she's not above trying to get the last word in an argument. That's one of the things they have -- had -- have in common. In retrospect, that's probably also one of the reasons they imploded.
Still. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, and Jon's not going to look a gift attempt at renewed contact in the mouth.
He clicks the link.
It's a short video of a Savannah cat exploring a small Zen-style courtyard garden in the rain, darting from place to place and pawing at raindrops in puddles, before dashing back indoors when the rain picks up force. Something about the cat's intent focus and the steady splash of the rain against the leaves and stones is soothing, nearly hypnotic. Jon watches the video again, and a third time, and a fourth.
His shirt is still streaked with pavement dirt and oils, and his left big toe is still digging unpleasantly into his shoes, but his spine and jaw don't feel ready to snap anymore.
'Thank you,' he texts back to Georgie. 'I don't know your reasons for sending me that link, but it was precisely what I needed today.'
Georgie replies almost immediately: 'no reason, just saw it and thought of you
'glad it hit the spot'
Jon watches the video a fifth time, gathering his thoughts and trying to decide how to respond. In the end, he follows Georgie's lead: they were friends before they dated, after all, and it would be a shame to lose that bond entirely. 'Unfortunately I don't have any videos to offer in return. Would you like a rant on poorly-designed clairvoyance research instead?'
'you know what? that sounds like PRECISELY what I need today,' Georgie replies.
Jon smiles. Then he glances down at his infuriating research, draws a deep breath, and starts to type.
---------------------------------------------
End of Ficlet
---------------------------------------------
As you may have noticed, I really enjoy writing tiny finger exercises. :)
And now, sleep. If you want to comment on this post, you can do so over here on Dreamwidth, where there are currently (
comments)