Original: Arrow (slash)
“Duncan!” he hissed again, giving the brunet a gentle nudge with his elbow. Duncan turned to him and glared.
“Sorry, I’m kind of too distracted with the mind-numbing pain of this arrow sticking out of my shoulder to pay attention to your girl gossip, Ace. Maybe you should try again on a day that didn’t begin with you shooting me.” And with that, he turned back around and continued with the faces. The little girl, who had been crying when she and her mother had arrived, giggled and stuck her tongue out at Duncan. Her mother, who was covered in hives, smiled gratefully at the arrow-struck man.
Sam looked away guiltily. The ER was not really where he’d envisioned spending his afternoon when he’d taken this job from his cousin.
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“C’mon, Sam. Remember how you owe me? Remember how I helped you get this job-”
“Internship,” Sam corrected.
“This job when you had no prospects whatsoever. ‘Oh, boo-hoo, I’m Sam and I don’t know what do I do with a BA in English. Oh, look, it’s Super-Randy to the rescue!’”
“That’s a terrible impression of me.”
“’Why hello, Sam. It is I, Super-Randy, here to help you out by offering you a totally sweet PAID internship in the wonderful world of Cupiding.’ ‘Oh, Super-Randy, you are so awesome and totally cooler than I am in every way. Please, if there is any way I can ever repay you by taking a ridiculously easy job so that you can attend the wicked sweet beer-and-x-box fest this weekend, all you have to do is ask.’”
Randy grinned triumphantly.
“That never happened,” Sam pointed out. “And I’m not even remotely qualified to take a first-arrow job. I’m barely allowed to rekindle old married couples.”
Randy frowned. “I don’t know which is more disappointing to me, cuz, your ingratitude to me for getting you this gig, or your complete and utter cowardice. Show some initiative.” He gave Sam that look, the one that he’d always shot him when they were kids that usually ended up in triple dog dares and weeks of being grounded. He held out his quiver.
Sam took it, reluctantly. “I hate you.”
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Sam found his mark in the park. He watched him for the better part of an hour, waiting for him to get into the right position. The branch Sam sat on dug into his backside, but what could he do? Modern day Cupids didn’t get the wings and the invisibility and all the other cool abilities until they reached Eros rank. He had to make do with binoculars and trees.
The target, one Duncan Barnes, finally stopped jogging with his Labrador and sat down on a bench in perfect range. His soon to be love would be by in a moment, Randy had assured him. Other than the two of them and the dog, the park was empty.
Sam pulled a standard love arrow out of his quiver and drew back his bow. A heart shot would make the spell more potent, but Sam had never been great at target practice. His arrow hit Duncan’s right shoulder and knocked him off of his bench. The shaft didn’t dissolve like a love arrow should have. It stuck out of his target like some horrible splinter.
Sam didn’t even realize that he blacked out at the sight of it until he woke up on the ground with a splitting pain all over and Duncan staring down at him. He kind of wished he could faint a second time.
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Duncan got over the Cupid part of the explanation surprisingly easily. “What, you think you’re the first meddling arrow-shooter I’ve seen, Ace?” he asked Sam. “I’ve been shot by better cupids than you.”
He then proceeded to snap the arrow shaft off about two inches from his skin and toss it on the ground like some sort of old movie cowboy hero. Sam scrambled to collect all the other arrows that went flying from his quiver when he fell. He didn’t think he had a concussion, but he was still sore enough that the task wasn’t easy.
“Look, I don’t get why the arrow didn’t work, but we need to get it out of you. The hospital’s not far; I’ll drive you.” It was the last thing Sam wanted to do; he was pretty sure shooting someone with an arrow would get his intern ass put in jail, but guilt outweighed his fear.
“Swing by my house first. I need to take Sparks home.” Duncan whistled to his dog, who was using one of Sam’s extra-strength arrows as a fetch stick.
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After seven hours at the ER together, during which Duncan lied to get the intern off the hook for shooting him, Sam was pretty sure he was the last person Duncan wanted to see. When he came back to his house the next day to finish the job, he decided to tackle it more subtly. All the computer systems at headquarters said the flower delivery man would be a good match for Duncan. Sam called in an order for a dozen red roses and a ‘get well soon’ card. When Duncan opened the door to receive them, Sam blew a lust-dart into his pants leg from his hiding place in the hedges.
Duncan winced when it hit him, but he signed for the flowers and thanked the flower guy, who hopped in his car and went on to the next order. Then the brunet whistled, and Sam found himself being tackled and licked by Sparks the lab before he could even think about escaping.
“This yours?” Duncan asked, tossing the bloody dart back at Sam.
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Sam admired the books on Duncan’s shelf while the other man fetched himself a band aid to patch up the lust-dart wound.
“You’ve got a nice collection here,” he called out to Duncan, knowing full well that once his target was finished bandaging himself, he would probably get straight on taking out a restraining order against him.
“Thanks. Do you read when you’re not attacking people?”
Sam cringed. “I’m just trying to help. Don’t you want somebody to love?”
Duncan stepped back into the living room. “Yeah, but your arrows won’t work. I’m kind of immune.”
“What?” Oh, how he’d kill Randy when he saw that bastard again. He was usually incredibly good at his job of matchmaking. How could he have not known this?
“I told you this wasn’t the first time I’d been shot,” Duncan reminded him.
“But still, I’ve never heard of anyone building up immunity to love. I mean, we all have to get inoculated so we don’t accidentally spell ourselves, but that takes weeks of specific exposures.”
“It…there were some complications, a mix-up with targets. The cupid ended up having to remove the spell. Nothing else has worked since. Rookies pick up my case all the time, thinking they’ll be the one to fix me.” He pulled back his sleeve to show some of the arrow scars that marked him. “How do you not know all of this?” Duncan asked.
“I’m more of an intern. So you can never fall in love again?” he asked, hearing his voice almost break. He couldn’t imagine life without at least some hope of finding love.
Duncan smiled. “No, I can fall in love, I just can’t be spelled into it. Someone is going to have to work at it, Ace.”
He paused for a moment, and gave Sam a look the cupid couldn’t read. “You know, send me flowers, help me out if I get hurt, compliment my taste in literature, those types of things. But I guess that until I find someone like that, the only way to keep your coworkers from using me as a pincushion would be to at least pretend to date someone.”
“Wherever would you find such a person?” Sam asked, suddenly feeling kind of sweaty and nervous.
“I don’t know,” Duncan replied, leaning forward and reaching his hand out to rest on Sam’s shoulder. “I have no idea who would feel compelled to go along with such a plan.” Somehow, despite being taller than Sam by a good three inches, Duncan managed to stare down at him through his eyelashes.
“I guess I might be able to help,” Sam offered. His voice sounded breathy. “It’s kind of my job,” he whispered into Duncan’s grinning lips.
((AN and for your listening pleasure, the somewhat inspiration for this week's snuggle. This man's voice...I want to have its babies.
“Sorry, I’m kind of too distracted with the mind-numbing pain of this arrow sticking out of my shoulder to pay attention to your girl gossip, Ace. Maybe you should try again on a day that didn’t begin with you shooting me.” And with that, he turned back around and continued with the faces. The little girl, who had been crying when she and her mother had arrived, giggled and stuck her tongue out at Duncan. Her mother, who was covered in hives, smiled gratefully at the arrow-struck man.
Sam looked away guiltily. The ER was not really where he’d envisioned spending his afternoon when he’d taken this job from his cousin.
------------------------------------------------------------
“C’mon, Sam. Remember how you owe me? Remember how I helped you get this job-”
“Internship,” Sam corrected.
“This job when you had no prospects whatsoever. ‘Oh, boo-hoo, I’m Sam and I don’t know what do I do with a BA in English. Oh, look, it’s Super-Randy to the rescue!’”
“That’s a terrible impression of me.”
“’Why hello, Sam. It is I, Super-Randy, here to help you out by offering you a totally sweet PAID internship in the wonderful world of Cupiding.’ ‘Oh, Super-Randy, you are so awesome and totally cooler than I am in every way. Please, if there is any way I can ever repay you by taking a ridiculously easy job so that you can attend the wicked sweet beer-and-x-box fest this weekend, all you have to do is ask.’”
Randy grinned triumphantly.
“That never happened,” Sam pointed out. “And I’m not even remotely qualified to take a first-arrow job. I’m barely allowed to rekindle old married couples.”
Randy frowned. “I don’t know which is more disappointing to me, cuz, your ingratitude to me for getting you this gig, or your complete and utter cowardice. Show some initiative.” He gave Sam that look, the one that he’d always shot him when they were kids that usually ended up in triple dog dares and weeks of being grounded. He held out his quiver.
Sam took it, reluctantly. “I hate you.”
------------------------------------------------
Sam found his mark in the park. He watched him for the better part of an hour, waiting for him to get into the right position. The branch Sam sat on dug into his backside, but what could he do? Modern day Cupids didn’t get the wings and the invisibility and all the other cool abilities until they reached Eros rank. He had to make do with binoculars and trees.
The target, one Duncan Barnes, finally stopped jogging with his Labrador and sat down on a bench in perfect range. His soon to be love would be by in a moment, Randy had assured him. Other than the two of them and the dog, the park was empty.
Sam pulled a standard love arrow out of his quiver and drew back his bow. A heart shot would make the spell more potent, but Sam had never been great at target practice. His arrow hit Duncan’s right shoulder and knocked him off of his bench. The shaft didn’t dissolve like a love arrow should have. It stuck out of his target like some horrible splinter.
Sam didn’t even realize that he blacked out at the sight of it until he woke up on the ground with a splitting pain all over and Duncan staring down at him. He kind of wished he could faint a second time.
-----------------------------------------------
Duncan got over the Cupid part of the explanation surprisingly easily. “What, you think you’re the first meddling arrow-shooter I’ve seen, Ace?” he asked Sam. “I’ve been shot by better cupids than you.”
He then proceeded to snap the arrow shaft off about two inches from his skin and toss it on the ground like some sort of old movie cowboy hero. Sam scrambled to collect all the other arrows that went flying from his quiver when he fell. He didn’t think he had a concussion, but he was still sore enough that the task wasn’t easy.
“Look, I don’t get why the arrow didn’t work, but we need to get it out of you. The hospital’s not far; I’ll drive you.” It was the last thing Sam wanted to do; he was pretty sure shooting someone with an arrow would get his intern ass put in jail, but guilt outweighed his fear.
“Swing by my house first. I need to take Sparks home.” Duncan whistled to his dog, who was using one of Sam’s extra-strength arrows as a fetch stick.
-----------------------------------------------
After seven hours at the ER together, during which Duncan lied to get the intern off the hook for shooting him, Sam was pretty sure he was the last person Duncan wanted to see. When he came back to his house the next day to finish the job, he decided to tackle it more subtly. All the computer systems at headquarters said the flower delivery man would be a good match for Duncan. Sam called in an order for a dozen red roses and a ‘get well soon’ card. When Duncan opened the door to receive them, Sam blew a lust-dart into his pants leg from his hiding place in the hedges.
Duncan winced when it hit him, but he signed for the flowers and thanked the flower guy, who hopped in his car and went on to the next order. Then the brunet whistled, and Sam found himself being tackled and licked by Sparks the lab before he could even think about escaping.
“This yours?” Duncan asked, tossing the bloody dart back at Sam.
------------------------------------------------------
Sam admired the books on Duncan’s shelf while the other man fetched himself a band aid to patch up the lust-dart wound.
“You’ve got a nice collection here,” he called out to Duncan, knowing full well that once his target was finished bandaging himself, he would probably get straight on taking out a restraining order against him.
“Thanks. Do you read when you’re not attacking people?”
Sam cringed. “I’m just trying to help. Don’t you want somebody to love?”
Duncan stepped back into the living room. “Yeah, but your arrows won’t work. I’m kind of immune.”
“What?” Oh, how he’d kill Randy when he saw that bastard again. He was usually incredibly good at his job of matchmaking. How could he have not known this?
“I told you this wasn’t the first time I’d been shot,” Duncan reminded him.
“But still, I’ve never heard of anyone building up immunity to love. I mean, we all have to get inoculated so we don’t accidentally spell ourselves, but that takes weeks of specific exposures.”
“It…there were some complications, a mix-up with targets. The cupid ended up having to remove the spell. Nothing else has worked since. Rookies pick up my case all the time, thinking they’ll be the one to fix me.” He pulled back his sleeve to show some of the arrow scars that marked him. “How do you not know all of this?” Duncan asked.
“I’m more of an intern. So you can never fall in love again?” he asked, hearing his voice almost break. He couldn’t imagine life without at least some hope of finding love.
Duncan smiled. “No, I can fall in love, I just can’t be spelled into it. Someone is going to have to work at it, Ace.”
He paused for a moment, and gave Sam a look the cupid couldn’t read. “You know, send me flowers, help me out if I get hurt, compliment my taste in literature, those types of things. But I guess that until I find someone like that, the only way to keep your coworkers from using me as a pincushion would be to at least pretend to date someone.”
“Wherever would you find such a person?” Sam asked, suddenly feeling kind of sweaty and nervous.
“I don’t know,” Duncan replied, leaning forward and reaching his hand out to rest on Sam’s shoulder. “I have no idea who would feel compelled to go along with such a plan.” Somehow, despite being taller than Sam by a good three inches, Duncan managed to stare down at him through his eyelashes.
“I guess I might be able to help,” Sam offered. His voice sounded breathy. “It’s kind of my job,” he whispered into Duncan’s grinning lips.
((AN and for your listening pleasure, the somewhat inspiration for this week's snuggle. This man's voice...I want to have its babies.