[oct 4] [original, steampunk] wherever this may find you
Title: wherever this may find you
Date/Theme: October 4: wherever this may find you
Series: Y Your Cover's Blown, original steampunk
Character/Pairing: Walter/Frederick
Rating: G
Some notes: some of you may remember the Steampunk Story; this is after the events of the first story and probably after the events of what will be the second story if I ever get around to writing it. St John Edwards is an old schoolmate of Frederick's. He's your typical blond English repressed guy -- somewhere between Draco and Hakuba -- and is the dectective person to Frederick's thief. He um is really sort of extremely gay for Frederick and really really in denial about it.
for fairly obvious reasons he and Walter get along like two cats in a sack, insofar as Walter can be said to dislike anybody. (He makes an exception for Frederick's dad.) St John dislikes Walter a lot more than Walter dislikes him, however.
04. wherever this may find you
He was curled in his chair with his head tucked comfortably on the back of the seat, reading the letter from Jennings. St John thought he looked calm and quite happy, in a way that he had never seen him before and never had expected or believed he would see him. There was a sort of content interest in his face as he read the closely written lines.
"I suppose Jennings is well," he said, attempting to keep his voice light.
"Oh yes," said Rochester. There was a half-lurking smile on his face, tucked sweetly into the corner of his mouth and in his eyes. "He says he's quite well and working hard and he'll be back soon. And quite a lot of technical details about what he's working on." He folded the letter neatly and tucked it back in the envelope. "He says he would have written sooner but he wasn't sure where he would find himself."
"Are you going to write back?" said St John. It wasn't worth Rochester's time, he thought. He surely didn't want to bother Jennings with letters while he was so busy. Rochester could be made busy, perhaps. Too busy to write letters to other people.
"Oh yes," said Rochester, calmly. "I have been." He smiled again. "I just have to send them."
Date/Theme: October 4: wherever this may find you
Series: Y Your Cover's Blown, original steampunk
Character/Pairing: Walter/Frederick
Rating: G
Some notes: some of you may remember the Steampunk Story; this is after the events of the first story and probably after the events of what will be the second story if I ever get around to writing it. St John Edwards is an old schoolmate of Frederick's. He's your typical blond English repressed guy -- somewhere between Draco and Hakuba -- and is the dectective person to Frederick's thief. He um is really sort of extremely gay for Frederick and really really in denial about it.
for fairly obvious reasons he and Walter get along like two cats in a sack, insofar as Walter can be said to dislike anybody. (He makes an exception for Frederick's dad.) St John dislikes Walter a lot more than Walter dislikes him, however.
04. wherever this may find you
He was curled in his chair with his head tucked comfortably on the back of the seat, reading the letter from Jennings. St John thought he looked calm and quite happy, in a way that he had never seen him before and never had expected or believed he would see him. There was a sort of content interest in his face as he read the closely written lines.
"I suppose Jennings is well," he said, attempting to keep his voice light.
"Oh yes," said Rochester. There was a half-lurking smile on his face, tucked sweetly into the corner of his mouth and in his eyes. "He says he's quite well and working hard and he'll be back soon. And quite a lot of technical details about what he's working on." He folded the letter neatly and tucked it back in the envelope. "He says he would have written sooner but he wasn't sure where he would find himself."
"Are you going to write back?" said St John. It wasn't worth Rochester's time, he thought. He surely didn't want to bother Jennings with letters while he was so busy. Rochester could be made busy, perhaps. Too busy to write letters to other people.
"Oh yes," said Rochester, calmly. "I have been." He smiled again. "I just have to send them."