Fic: Thunderstorm
Author: zombie_pigeon
Title: Thunderstorm
Rating: PG
Pairing: Sam/Quorra
Spoilers: Yes
Summary: Tonight’s escape was met with ferocious thunder and pelting rain.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything; this was written for fun. TRON and its characters belong to Disney.
A/N: This is my first ever attempt at writing fanfic; apologies for any mistakes/inconsistencies. I had a lot of fun writing this fic. Sam and Quorra are my absolute favourite OTP in TRON: Legacy; the final shot in that film gave me chills! Any feedback is appreciated and seeing as this is my first attempt I openly welcome any constructive crit. Enjoy!
The street lights illuminating the evening sky reminded Sam of the grid; however here he need not worry about being ambushed by C.L.U.’s army of lightcyles, perhaps just the occasional bus or taxi hurriedly ferrying citizens around the city. It had been another long day at the office dealing with software bugs and Dillinger. Ever since his return from the grid, Sam felt the extra weight of responsibility and dedication to the company he had inherited from his father. Having employed Alan as president helped; Sam knew he always had a loyal and understanding colleague to turn to when things went awry. Long rides on the bike also eased the stresses of running a large cutting-edge company; feeling the freedom, of speed and wind across his leather-clad torso. Tonight’s escape was met with ferocious thunder and pelting rain. He could feel the storm resonate through his body, the bass sound of the thunder pounding into his chest coupled with the constant assault of rain streaming down his visor.
* * *
Sam hastily lifted the front door to his dwelling, eager to gain access quickly to avoid further soaking from the sheets of rain. It was late; all he wanted to do was crash on the sofa and catch the last quarter of the game before migrating to the bedroom. The last few days had been busy; Sam spent most of his waking hours at ENCOM feverishly working on the new operating system that would hopefully revolutionise user/software interaction. He had barely spent any time with Quorra since their expedition to the shopping mall last week, precisely 5 days, 17 hours and 36 minutes ago.
Kicking off his boots and throwing his water-stained jacket onto a nearby barstool, Sam noticed that his arrival home had seemed to go unnoticed. It was unusually quiet in the Flynn residence; normally he would be greeted by a large endearing smile and a ‘hug’ from Quorra (which often involved a little too much enthusiasm from her end) followed by a madly wagging tail and slobbery ‘kiss’ from Marvin.
“Quorra?”
The call was answered with a soft whimper coming from the other side of the sofa. Sam moved towards the sound and found a large human-shaped lump covered by a tartan blanket. Pulling back the covers he found Quorra snuggled up with Marvin tucked tightly between her arms.
“What are you doing under there?” Sam asked with a slightly quizzical expression.
“I was scared. There were loud booming noises followed by lights cracking across the sky and lots of water falling from nowhere!”
She was shaking like a leaf on a windy day and clutching Marvin like a beloved teddy bear. There were no thunderstorms on the grid; only occasional electrical interferences that made the digital lights pulsate and crackle. Sam realised that he had his work cut out for him when it came to helping Quorra understand ‘human’ life in the real world. Almost everything was a new and fascinating experience; however since he bought her a stack of new books to read and introduced her to the wonderful world of cable television he had sought some comfort in knowing she had those two ‘safe’ things to occupy her time during the day.
Quorra had read every book and magazine Sam owned from cover to cover, including all of the instruction manuals for the whitegoods and electronic devices. She now had a thorough understanding of ice hockey rules and statistics, barbecue cooking and how to operate the digital alarm clock on the bedside table. She did not care much for tabloid magazines or books with lots of pictures and no substance; rather she preferred classic literature and travel publications that had glossy images of the ‘user’ world.
Sam tried to explain to Quorra that she was entirely safe inside from the storm however after a somewhat lengthy discussion she still appeared unconvinced and ventured back under the safety of the warm blanket with her new four-legged friend. Sam was glad and slightly surprised how well Quorra and Marvin got along, considering the lack of animals on the grid and Marvin’s usual aversion to strangers. Sure there was digital livestock, but nobody kept animals as pets. He watched a sleepy terrier and a shivering program curled up on the sofa and knelt down in front. Leaning forward, his gaze was met by two wide emerald eyes encircled with smoky black.
Sam knew no more words would calm her. Reaching his hand over Quorra’s head and slowly lifting the blanket back, he rested his hand on her soft, shiny raven hair and stroked until her eyes finally relaxed and closed.
END.
Title: Thunderstorm
Rating: PG
Pairing: Sam/Quorra
Spoilers: Yes
Summary: Tonight’s escape was met with ferocious thunder and pelting rain.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything; this was written for fun. TRON and its characters belong to Disney.
A/N: This is my first ever attempt at writing fanfic; apologies for any mistakes/inconsistencies. I had a lot of fun writing this fic. Sam and Quorra are my absolute favourite OTP in TRON: Legacy; the final shot in that film gave me chills! Any feedback is appreciated and seeing as this is my first attempt I openly welcome any constructive crit. Enjoy!
The street lights illuminating the evening sky reminded Sam of the grid; however here he need not worry about being ambushed by C.L.U.’s army of lightcyles, perhaps just the occasional bus or taxi hurriedly ferrying citizens around the city. It had been another long day at the office dealing with software bugs and Dillinger. Ever since his return from the grid, Sam felt the extra weight of responsibility and dedication to the company he had inherited from his father. Having employed Alan as president helped; Sam knew he always had a loyal and understanding colleague to turn to when things went awry. Long rides on the bike also eased the stresses of running a large cutting-edge company; feeling the freedom, of speed and wind across his leather-clad torso. Tonight’s escape was met with ferocious thunder and pelting rain. He could feel the storm resonate through his body, the bass sound of the thunder pounding into his chest coupled with the constant assault of rain streaming down his visor.
* * *
Sam hastily lifted the front door to his dwelling, eager to gain access quickly to avoid further soaking from the sheets of rain. It was late; all he wanted to do was crash on the sofa and catch the last quarter of the game before migrating to the bedroom. The last few days had been busy; Sam spent most of his waking hours at ENCOM feverishly working on the new operating system that would hopefully revolutionise user/software interaction. He had barely spent any time with Quorra since their expedition to the shopping mall last week, precisely 5 days, 17 hours and 36 minutes ago.
Kicking off his boots and throwing his water-stained jacket onto a nearby barstool, Sam noticed that his arrival home had seemed to go unnoticed. It was unusually quiet in the Flynn residence; normally he would be greeted by a large endearing smile and a ‘hug’ from Quorra (which often involved a little too much enthusiasm from her end) followed by a madly wagging tail and slobbery ‘kiss’ from Marvin.
“Quorra?”
The call was answered with a soft whimper coming from the other side of the sofa. Sam moved towards the sound and found a large human-shaped lump covered by a tartan blanket. Pulling back the covers he found Quorra snuggled up with Marvin tucked tightly between her arms.
“What are you doing under there?” Sam asked with a slightly quizzical expression.
“I was scared. There were loud booming noises followed by lights cracking across the sky and lots of water falling from nowhere!”
She was shaking like a leaf on a windy day and clutching Marvin like a beloved teddy bear. There were no thunderstorms on the grid; only occasional electrical interferences that made the digital lights pulsate and crackle. Sam realised that he had his work cut out for him when it came to helping Quorra understand ‘human’ life in the real world. Almost everything was a new and fascinating experience; however since he bought her a stack of new books to read and introduced her to the wonderful world of cable television he had sought some comfort in knowing she had those two ‘safe’ things to occupy her time during the day.
Quorra had read every book and magazine Sam owned from cover to cover, including all of the instruction manuals for the whitegoods and electronic devices. She now had a thorough understanding of ice hockey rules and statistics, barbecue cooking and how to operate the digital alarm clock on the bedside table. She did not care much for tabloid magazines or books with lots of pictures and no substance; rather she preferred classic literature and travel publications that had glossy images of the ‘user’ world.
Sam tried to explain to Quorra that she was entirely safe inside from the storm however after a somewhat lengthy discussion she still appeared unconvinced and ventured back under the safety of the warm blanket with her new four-legged friend. Sam was glad and slightly surprised how well Quorra and Marvin got along, considering the lack of animals on the grid and Marvin’s usual aversion to strangers. Sure there was digital livestock, but nobody kept animals as pets. He watched a sleepy terrier and a shivering program curled up on the sofa and knelt down in front. Leaning forward, his gaze was met by two wide emerald eyes encircled with smoky black.
Sam knew no more words would calm her. Reaching his hand over Quorra’s head and slowly lifting the blanket back, he rested his hand on her soft, shiny raven hair and stroked until her eyes finally relaxed and closed.
END.