Ficlet-Update: Torchwood, Mortal Instruments
Two Ficlets written for 120_minuten.
Title: Summer Rain
Fandom: The Mortal Instruments
Characters: Magnus, Alec
Words: ~650
Summer Rain
The end of July brings a heat spell that turns New York into a furnace. Activity shifts further into the night. The city that never sleeps holds its breath in the simmering heat, slowing, struggling, never quite grinding to a halt. And then, when night falls, the wind turns towards the sea like a sigh of relief and the clockwork starts ticking again. It is a million things and lives rubbing together, energy building up like a giant capacitor. Everyone can feel it, pressing and exhilarating, an impending storm. Magnus revels in the chaos of his city.
He leans back on the bench and stretches out his legs. Central Park is dark, or as dark as it ever gets. It's not quiet or peaceful or lonely. The slight drop of temperature lures them out; late joggers and people walking their dogs in addition to the usual crowd roaming the nights. Magnus is waiting - for the rain and for Alec. He had seen him earlier, on the hunt. There was a flash of Jace's blond hair, then Alec's black figure running by, slowing down for the briefest of moments.
It's half an hour later, when the Shadow Hunter sits down next to Magnus, slightly out of breath.
“Something big?” Magnus asks mildly interested.
“Something fast,” Alec breathes. “And it's insanely hot.”
Magnus smiles. “It's gonna rain soon.”
Alec looks up to the sky. A swirling mist of dust and clouds, painted orange by the city lights, flickering white and blue with the beginnings of a thunderstorm.
“Can you feel the energy?” Magnus asks.
“The static?”
“Not really. The magic. But it's a bit like that. Untamed energy. Too much heat, everything's too much. Can you picture the druids at the end of summer, chanting under the storm clouds?”
Alec gives him a puzzled look. “Are you trying to be romantic?”
Magnus shrugs. “Don't know, I just feel restless,” he says with a broad smile. “Like I'm connected to everything and everything is moving. Haven't slept in a week.”
“Sounds exhausting.”
He hums in a negating sort of way and tries to think of ways to explain it, but nothing quite fits. Shadow Hunters know magic, they use it, but they can't sense it. They don't feel it in every fiber of their being like he does. So in the end he just says: “It's beautiful.” and it seems to be enough, because Alec smiles at him and they sit in silence for a while, listening to the soft growling of thunder.
“What happens to it?” Alec asks eventually.
“Hm?”
“If it's like static, what happens to it? Will you be struck by some kind of magic lightening? Does it just vanish?”
“Magic lightening! I like that. Think I'd glow in rainbow colors?” Magnus gives a delighted laugh, then shakes his head, then shrugs. “It's more like soaking though. And nothing ever vanishes.”
“You're high,” Alec states with a sideways glance and a twitch to the corner of his mouth.
Magnus holds out a hand to feel the first drops of rain fall. “I guess.” He tries to catch one with his tongue.
“And insane,” Alec points out. He stands up. The rain is increasing fast, the thunder growling; a minute or two and it will be pouring down.
“You like it,” says Magnus with a grin.
“And a cheap date,” Alec adds later, in the shelter of a tree, after a run through the rain. It's a bit unfair, Magnus muses, because Alec is soaking wet and his hair is actually ten kinds of ill-kept even under normal circumstances, but he manages to look gorgeous.
Magnus feels the settling of things in the rain and the thunder and he smiles. “You don't care.”
_________
Title: The Usual Kind of Game
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Ianto
Words: ~300
The Usual Kind of Game
There's that mischievous look Ianto gets when he has an idea. He's good with those. It's a good start for the day: Ianto looking mischievous, which makes Jack leer, which makes Ianto bring him coffee with an air of aloof professionalism that would make a saint melt. Well, any saint with a mind like Jack's, anyway. Which can't be that many. Not that Jack's a saint. If he were, he probably wouldn't procede with fantasizing while sipping his coffee. But that's exactly what he does, he's really good at it and it's something he does often enough to develop Pavlovian reflexes. More often than not, he starts off just drinking coffee and five minutes later he finds himself fantasizing away.
Jack's trying to guess what the idea is, because Ianto wouldn't tell. Ianto likes to say things like “You'll know soon enough.” in a mysteriously sexy way, or maybe it's sexily mysterious, hard to decide, and then, when he's being especially smug, he'll allow himself to think about it (well, maybe he's still testing if Jack's psychic) and he'll get that far away look just to tantalize Jack. It works well enough.
It's an equally charming and slightly fucked-up trait in Ianto, that he always wants to impress. With the suits and the games and that oh so clever and unfazed persona. Always tries a tick too hard. Sometimes Jack wishes he'd be a more impressible person for Ianto, sometimes he fakes it. Sometimes Ianto manages to blow his mind with a soft smile and an insightful remark in one of those moments when he doesn't try at all.
.
Title: Summer Rain
Fandom: The Mortal Instruments
Characters: Magnus, Alec
Words: ~650
Summer Rain
The end of July brings a heat spell that turns New York into a furnace. Activity shifts further into the night. The city that never sleeps holds its breath in the simmering heat, slowing, struggling, never quite grinding to a halt. And then, when night falls, the wind turns towards the sea like a sigh of relief and the clockwork starts ticking again. It is a million things and lives rubbing together, energy building up like a giant capacitor. Everyone can feel it, pressing and exhilarating, an impending storm. Magnus revels in the chaos of his city.
He leans back on the bench and stretches out his legs. Central Park is dark, or as dark as it ever gets. It's not quiet or peaceful or lonely. The slight drop of temperature lures them out; late joggers and people walking their dogs in addition to the usual crowd roaming the nights. Magnus is waiting - for the rain and for Alec. He had seen him earlier, on the hunt. There was a flash of Jace's blond hair, then Alec's black figure running by, slowing down for the briefest of moments.
It's half an hour later, when the Shadow Hunter sits down next to Magnus, slightly out of breath.
“Something big?” Magnus asks mildly interested.
“Something fast,” Alec breathes. “And it's insanely hot.”
Magnus smiles. “It's gonna rain soon.”
Alec looks up to the sky. A swirling mist of dust and clouds, painted orange by the city lights, flickering white and blue with the beginnings of a thunderstorm.
“Can you feel the energy?” Magnus asks.
“The static?”
“Not really. The magic. But it's a bit like that. Untamed energy. Too much heat, everything's too much. Can you picture the druids at the end of summer, chanting under the storm clouds?”
Alec gives him a puzzled look. “Are you trying to be romantic?”
Magnus shrugs. “Don't know, I just feel restless,” he says with a broad smile. “Like I'm connected to everything and everything is moving. Haven't slept in a week.”
“Sounds exhausting.”
He hums in a negating sort of way and tries to think of ways to explain it, but nothing quite fits. Shadow Hunters know magic, they use it, but they can't sense it. They don't feel it in every fiber of their being like he does. So in the end he just says: “It's beautiful.” and it seems to be enough, because Alec smiles at him and they sit in silence for a while, listening to the soft growling of thunder.
“What happens to it?” Alec asks eventually.
“Hm?”
“If it's like static, what happens to it? Will you be struck by some kind of magic lightening? Does it just vanish?”
“Magic lightening! I like that. Think I'd glow in rainbow colors?” Magnus gives a delighted laugh, then shakes his head, then shrugs. “It's more like soaking though. And nothing ever vanishes.”
“You're high,” Alec states with a sideways glance and a twitch to the corner of his mouth.
Magnus holds out a hand to feel the first drops of rain fall. “I guess.” He tries to catch one with his tongue.
“And insane,” Alec points out. He stands up. The rain is increasing fast, the thunder growling; a minute or two and it will be pouring down.
“You like it,” says Magnus with a grin.
“And a cheap date,” Alec adds later, in the shelter of a tree, after a run through the rain. It's a bit unfair, Magnus muses, because Alec is soaking wet and his hair is actually ten kinds of ill-kept even under normal circumstances, but he manages to look gorgeous.
Magnus feels the settling of things in the rain and the thunder and he smiles. “You don't care.”
_________
Title: The Usual Kind of Game
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Ianto
Words: ~300
The Usual Kind of Game
There's that mischievous look Ianto gets when he has an idea. He's good with those. It's a good start for the day: Ianto looking mischievous, which makes Jack leer, which makes Ianto bring him coffee with an air of aloof professionalism that would make a saint melt. Well, any saint with a mind like Jack's, anyway. Which can't be that many. Not that Jack's a saint. If he were, he probably wouldn't procede with fantasizing while sipping his coffee. But that's exactly what he does, he's really good at it and it's something he does often enough to develop Pavlovian reflexes. More often than not, he starts off just drinking coffee and five minutes later he finds himself fantasizing away.
Jack's trying to guess what the idea is, because Ianto wouldn't tell. Ianto likes to say things like “You'll know soon enough.” in a mysteriously sexy way, or maybe it's sexily mysterious, hard to decide, and then, when he's being especially smug, he'll allow himself to think about it (well, maybe he's still testing if Jack's psychic) and he'll get that far away look just to tantalize Jack. It works well enough.
It's an equally charming and slightly fucked-up trait in Ianto, that he always wants to impress. With the suits and the games and that oh so clever and unfazed persona. Always tries a tick too hard. Sometimes Jack wishes he'd be a more impressible person for Ianto, sometimes he fakes it. Sometimes Ianto manages to blow his mind with a soft smile and an insightful remark in one of those moments when he doesn't try at all.
.