Post by Seek on May 29, 2011 7:00:55 GMT 10
Title: Sing
Rating: G
Word count: 442
Pairing: Clary/Mattes
Round/Fight: 4/A
Summary: One of them has to stay awake. Mattes suggests that Clary sings a song. Set in the DeadAlive universe, where Clary and Mattes are FBI agents. Based on an X-Files quote.
-
It’s pretty apparent that we’re going to have to wait for the tow truck to get here. I try again, but the engine sputters and dies, and Mattes shakes his head, as if in confirmation that our rental car has given up on us.
“I already took a look,” he says, apologetically. “We’re going to have to wait.”
Two hours later, we’re still sitting on the side of the road, waiting. It’s too hot there in the car, and I swear the tarmac is still warm to the touch. I’m almost drifting off, leaning against the side of the car and the warmth is pleasant after a while, when the chill of the night has just begun to set in.
“One of us has got to stay awake, Clary,” Mattes speaks up, his voice soft.
He’s the one who’s been driving all night. He’s got to be exhausted. I can see it in the soft lines of his shoulders; the way they’re slumping. “You sleep,” I tell him, “I’ll stay up and wait for the tow truck to come. You’d think they were utter idiots. Can’t they find the highway, or something?”
He’s too tired to do anything but grin at my complaint. “If you get tired, wake me.”
“I’m not going to get tired,” I say. Resolutely, I fight back the yawn that threatens to come. I don’t mention that I haven’t gotten much more sleep than Mattes – but then, I haven’t been driving.
“Why don’t you sing something?” he suggests. He sounds a little more awake than before. I twist about to glare at him.
“No.”
“If you sing something, I’ll know you’re awake.”
“Mattes, you don’t want me to sing anything. I can’t carry a tune.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Mattes insists, in the stubborn way he always does when he gets some idea into his head. There’s no stopping him, then. “Just sing anything.”
I sigh, and sing the first thing I can think of. “Jeremiah was a bullfrog, was a good friend of mine. Never understood a single word he said, but I helped him drink his wine.”
For a moment, there is silence, and I’m beginning to think Mattes has thought the better of this little experiment. Part of me’s even a little afraid that he’s been thoroughly horrified, but then gravely, Mattes demands, “Chorus.”
“Joy... to the world. All the boys and girls. Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea. Joy to you and me.”
When I glance at him again, wondering why he’s so quiet, his eyes are shut. From the sound of his breathing, the unthinkable has happened. Mattes has fallen asleep.
Rating: G
Word count: 442
Pairing: Clary/Mattes
Round/Fight: 4/A
Summary: One of them has to stay awake. Mattes suggests that Clary sings a song. Set in the DeadAlive universe, where Clary and Mattes are FBI agents. Based on an X-Files quote.
-
It’s pretty apparent that we’re going to have to wait for the tow truck to get here. I try again, but the engine sputters and dies, and Mattes shakes his head, as if in confirmation that our rental car has given up on us.
“I already took a look,” he says, apologetically. “We’re going to have to wait.”
Two hours later, we’re still sitting on the side of the road, waiting. It’s too hot there in the car, and I swear the tarmac is still warm to the touch. I’m almost drifting off, leaning against the side of the car and the warmth is pleasant after a while, when the chill of the night has just begun to set in.
“One of us has got to stay awake, Clary,” Mattes speaks up, his voice soft.
He’s the one who’s been driving all night. He’s got to be exhausted. I can see it in the soft lines of his shoulders; the way they’re slumping. “You sleep,” I tell him, “I’ll stay up and wait for the tow truck to come. You’d think they were utter idiots. Can’t they find the highway, or something?”
He’s too tired to do anything but grin at my complaint. “If you get tired, wake me.”
“I’m not going to get tired,” I say. Resolutely, I fight back the yawn that threatens to come. I don’t mention that I haven’t gotten much more sleep than Mattes – but then, I haven’t been driving.
“Why don’t you sing something?” he suggests. He sounds a little more awake than before. I twist about to glare at him.
“No.”
“If you sing something, I’ll know you’re awake.”
“Mattes, you don’t want me to sing anything. I can’t carry a tune.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Mattes insists, in the stubborn way he always does when he gets some idea into his head. There’s no stopping him, then. “Just sing anything.”
I sigh, and sing the first thing I can think of. “Jeremiah was a bullfrog, was a good friend of mine. Never understood a single word he said, but I helped him drink his wine.”
For a moment, there is silence, and I’m beginning to think Mattes has thought the better of this little experiment. Part of me’s even a little afraid that he’s been thoroughly horrified, but then gravely, Mattes demands, “Chorus.”
“Joy... to the world. All the boys and girls. Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea. Joy to you and me.”
When I glance at him again, wondering why he’s so quiet, his eyes are shut. From the sound of his breathing, the unthinkable has happened. Mattes has fallen asleep.