Ficlet: Comic Book Heroes - The OC/Chuck
Title Comic Book Heroes
Author Elizabeth (lit_glitter)
Fandoms The OC and Chuck
Characters Seth and Sarah
Wordcount 298
Prompt Cold (choco_cherries)
Summary Welcome to the OC, Sarah.
"That's...that's cool." The kid makes a gulping noise and tries for a non-chalant sip of the jamba juice he's clutching in his hand. The straw shakes between his fingers and he nearly stabs himself in the nostril instead. "So...is that a rewarding job...the secret government ops thing? Or do you really just want a normal life."
The comic book shop is dimly lit and almost freezing compared to the bright California sunshine outside. You'd dashed in off the balcony, thinking Casey was at your heels, and immediately broken the number one rule of a secret identity. You'd revealed it to a scrawny eighteen-year-old kid in a Death Cab t-shirt and corduroys.
It had been an accident, really. You'd turned to ask Casey if he thought you'd been spotted, only to find empty air and the stilted ring of the bell over the door echoing in the shop. Then the kid, he says his name is Seth, was there, eyes wide and mouth gaping. He'd cracked wise while you made sure the shop was devoid of customers and now you're crouched behind the desk, your senses piqued, your stomach in knots over Casey outside and--oh God--Chuck, sitting alone in the car (or probably wandering his way into trouble, per usual).
Seth's jamba juice has melted and makes a rattling noise every time he moves, as he does often, shifting against the counter, shuffling his hands from his knees, his ankles, crossing his arms and uncrossing them.
"So...this...this is, like...a mission, right? There's some guy out there that wants to kill me. And, by me, I mean you, because I'm not really important I'm just, you know, I'm a casualty of war or something...Right?"
"Sure," you say, your thoughts elsewhere. "Whatever."
Author Elizabeth (lit_glitter)
Fandoms The OC and Chuck
Characters Seth and Sarah
Wordcount 298
Prompt Cold (choco_cherries)
Summary Welcome to the OC, Sarah.
"That's...that's cool." The kid makes a gulping noise and tries for a non-chalant sip of the jamba juice he's clutching in his hand. The straw shakes between his fingers and he nearly stabs himself in the nostril instead. "So...is that a rewarding job...the secret government ops thing? Or do you really just want a normal life."
The comic book shop is dimly lit and almost freezing compared to the bright California sunshine outside. You'd dashed in off the balcony, thinking Casey was at your heels, and immediately broken the number one rule of a secret identity. You'd revealed it to a scrawny eighteen-year-old kid in a Death Cab t-shirt and corduroys.
It had been an accident, really. You'd turned to ask Casey if he thought you'd been spotted, only to find empty air and the stilted ring of the bell over the door echoing in the shop. Then the kid, he says his name is Seth, was there, eyes wide and mouth gaping. He'd cracked wise while you made sure the shop was devoid of customers and now you're crouched behind the desk, your senses piqued, your stomach in knots over Casey outside and--oh God--Chuck, sitting alone in the car (or probably wandering his way into trouble, per usual).
Seth's jamba juice has melted and makes a rattling noise every time he moves, as he does often, shifting against the counter, shuffling his hands from his knees, his ankles, crossing his arms and uncrossing them.
"So...this...this is, like...a mission, right? There's some guy out there that wants to kill me. And, by me, I mean you, because I'm not really important I'm just, you know, I'm a casualty of war or something...Right?"
"Sure," you say, your thoughts elsewhere. "Whatever."