fanfic | wire in the blood - low brow fic festival prompt #1
Title: Looking after a drunk
Fandom: Wire In The Blood
Series: Lowbrow fic festival at bloodywire
Characters: Tony, Carol
Prompter: peoplewantducks
Rating: PG - adult concepts
Length: ficlet (759)
Disclaimer: There is no way Val would write this, so I did.
Tony managed to catch Carol's wine glass with uncharacteristic grace. "You're drunk."
"No I'm not."
He watched her from less than a foot away, both of them sprawled on his hardwood floor, the incriminating morass of ravaged Indian take-away and three bottles of half-decent red lay between them. "Don't be silly, you're legless."
She frowned angrily at him, but the effect was spoiled when her attempts to focus left her rather bleary-eyed. "Okay. Fine. I'm drunk." She itched her nose. "What of it."
"Well ... it presents certain logistical problems regarding transport."
One of her eyebrows quirked, a gesture he'd learned to associate with both humour and irritation. "How the fuck can your brain come up with that after one and a half bottles?"
A mischievous gleam entered his eye and he shrugged. "Better tolerance, I suppose."
She laughed, tossing her head back and letting the nearly empty glass loll dangerously close to spilling. "You're a lightweight, Doctor Hill," she teased. "It's all a front. You couldn't walk straight if your life depended on it."
"No," he admitted. "But it doesn't. However, your life does depend on your ability to drive straight on your way home."
"Yeah," Carol said and grinned at him.
"Stay here tonight, then."
There was an immediate air of awkwardness in the room. At least, it seemed so to Tony. No matter how many times they came to this point, it always rubbed him the wrong way. Generally it was only a matter of an instant to shake it, like Nelson when he accidently stroked against the grain of his fur. Tonight it was complicated by too much wine and the exotic tang of spices in his mouth.
Her smile widened as she uttered what had become a bit of a catch phrase between them. "Are you making a pass at me?"
"No," he said dutifully. "You're sinfully drunk and so am I. We'd most likely kill ourselves attempting some bizarre sexual position, and that would be an embarrassing way to be found when Kevin and Paula come looking for us."
Carol laughed slowly through her nose. "Secretly, you like the idea."
His eyebrows shot up, furrowing his brow with well-worn lines. "Of being found with my pants around my ankles, covered in Indian food? No thank you."
"Oh, come on. Bet you've had worse."
He tried to supress the laughter, but it hit him harder than he expected, probably because the wine had already lowered his inhibitions. He half-coughed, half-laughed, hanging his head in subconscious attempt to hide his amusement. She leaned forward, unwilling to let him escape her, so he relented and caught her eyes.
Carol knew she was drunk, but it was hard to think of a time she'd found him more attractive. With his collar unbuttoned and the slight flush of alcohol on his cheeks, he looked uncharacteristically approachable. The reserved and potentially psychotic academic he presented to the world had melted away in the face of a smile that transformed his whole face. As always, she wondered which was the real him, or whether they both were.
"So, how about it," she prompted, aware of the slight husk in her voice but enjoying the illicit thrill of skirting the edge of actual flirtation. "Naked Indian food orgy or shall I drive myself home?"
He reached out and gingerly rescued her wine glass. His fingers brushed hers and he watched her glance down involuntarily to where they'd briefly touched. Swallowing the remaining mouthful of shiraz, he pushed unsteadily to his feet. "Orgy it is then."
"Right," Carol said, business-like. "Just let me get naked and I'll be right with you."
He nodded and wandered from the room. Carol sat where he'd left her, with her legs dangerously surrounded by palak paneer and roti chanai. She thought about what it might feel like to stand nude amongst the remains of their feast, his eyes and the cool evening air on her skin.
He returned with a pillow and a blanket tucked under his arm. "Here," he said, reaching out and pulling her to her feet. "There are fresh sheets on the bed, I'll take the couch."
"Okay," she smiled lazily. "But you owe me an orgy."
Smothering a yawn he nodded. "My only clause is sobriety."
She patted him on the chest, and if her fingers lingered a little, she could always put it down to the wine. Sleeping in his bed was little consolation if the bloody sheets wouldn't even smell of him.
Fandom: Wire In The Blood
Series: Lowbrow fic festival at bloodywire
Characters: Tony, Carol
Prompter: peoplewantducks
Rating: PG - adult concepts
Length: ficlet (759)
Disclaimer: There is no way Val would write this, so I did.
Tony managed to catch Carol's wine glass with uncharacteristic grace. "You're drunk."
"No I'm not."
He watched her from less than a foot away, both of them sprawled on his hardwood floor, the incriminating morass of ravaged Indian take-away and three bottles of half-decent red lay between them. "Don't be silly, you're legless."
She frowned angrily at him, but the effect was spoiled when her attempts to focus left her rather bleary-eyed. "Okay. Fine. I'm drunk." She itched her nose. "What of it."
"Well ... it presents certain logistical problems regarding transport."
One of her eyebrows quirked, a gesture he'd learned to associate with both humour and irritation. "How the fuck can your brain come up with that after one and a half bottles?"
A mischievous gleam entered his eye and he shrugged. "Better tolerance, I suppose."
She laughed, tossing her head back and letting the nearly empty glass loll dangerously close to spilling. "You're a lightweight, Doctor Hill," she teased. "It's all a front. You couldn't walk straight if your life depended on it."
"No," he admitted. "But it doesn't. However, your life does depend on your ability to drive straight on your way home."
"Yeah," Carol said and grinned at him.
"Stay here tonight, then."
There was an immediate air of awkwardness in the room. At least, it seemed so to Tony. No matter how many times they came to this point, it always rubbed him the wrong way. Generally it was only a matter of an instant to shake it, like Nelson when he accidently stroked against the grain of his fur. Tonight it was complicated by too much wine and the exotic tang of spices in his mouth.
Her smile widened as she uttered what had become a bit of a catch phrase between them. "Are you making a pass at me?"
"No," he said dutifully. "You're sinfully drunk and so am I. We'd most likely kill ourselves attempting some bizarre sexual position, and that would be an embarrassing way to be found when Kevin and Paula come looking for us."
Carol laughed slowly through her nose. "Secretly, you like the idea."
His eyebrows shot up, furrowing his brow with well-worn lines. "Of being found with my pants around my ankles, covered in Indian food? No thank you."
"Oh, come on. Bet you've had worse."
He tried to supress the laughter, but it hit him harder than he expected, probably because the wine had already lowered his inhibitions. He half-coughed, half-laughed, hanging his head in subconscious attempt to hide his amusement. She leaned forward, unwilling to let him escape her, so he relented and caught her eyes.
Carol knew she was drunk, but it was hard to think of a time she'd found him more attractive. With his collar unbuttoned and the slight flush of alcohol on his cheeks, he looked uncharacteristically approachable. The reserved and potentially psychotic academic he presented to the world had melted away in the face of a smile that transformed his whole face. As always, she wondered which was the real him, or whether they both were.
"So, how about it," she prompted, aware of the slight husk in her voice but enjoying the illicit thrill of skirting the edge of actual flirtation. "Naked Indian food orgy or shall I drive myself home?"
He reached out and gingerly rescued her wine glass. His fingers brushed hers and he watched her glance down involuntarily to where they'd briefly touched. Swallowing the remaining mouthful of shiraz, he pushed unsteadily to his feet. "Orgy it is then."
"Right," Carol said, business-like. "Just let me get naked and I'll be right with you."
He nodded and wandered from the room. Carol sat where he'd left her, with her legs dangerously surrounded by palak paneer and roti chanai. She thought about what it might feel like to stand nude amongst the remains of their feast, his eyes and the cool evening air on her skin.
He returned with a pillow and a blanket tucked under his arm. "Here," he said, reaching out and pulling her to her feet. "There are fresh sheets on the bed, I'll take the couch."
"Okay," she smiled lazily. "But you owe me an orgy."
Smothering a yawn he nodded. "My only clause is sobriety."
She patted him on the chest, and if her fingers lingered a little, she could always put it down to the wine. Sleeping in his bed was little consolation if the bloody sheets wouldn't even smell of him.