Post by Seek on May 29, 2011 6:54:56 GMT 10
Title: Guide
Rating: PG
Word count: 265
Pairing: Clary/Mattes
Round/Fight: 4/A
Summary: Mattes and Clary are short on wilderness survival skills. Set in the DeadAlive universe, where Mattes and Clary are FBI agents. Based on an X-Files quote.
-
I am struggling with the wood. I’ve barely paid attention to the wilderness survival talk in high school, and that was years ago. Making a fire drill is far harder than it looks. I glance at Mattes, see the way his eyes are drifting shut, and wince. What I do know is first-aid. Keep talking. Keep him awake. The wound didn’t look good, but we don’t have supplies with us here, and I’m not stupid enough to keep us walking through a forest at night. Not with Mattes down.
“You were an Indian guide,” I remember. Maybe I should bang the stones together, try to get some sparks to light the tinder. I’d have better luck that way. Maybe. “Help me out here.”
“Indian guide says maybe you should run to the store and get some matches,” Mattes says wryly. It’s too dim to make out his expression, but I think he’s smiling. But that’s Mattes for you. The idiot’s joking, even when he might be going into shock from the injury.
“I would, but I left my wallet in the car.”
“I was told once that the best way to regenerate body heat is to crawl naked into a sleeping bag with somebody else who was already naked,” Mattes says. I think I can catch the gleam in his dark eyes.
I can’t help laughing, anyway. It’s damp, dark, and cold, and Mattes is wounded, and he’s making come-ons in the middle of nowhere. “Sure,” I tell him, sarcastically, “Maybe if it rained sleeping bags, you’ll get lucky. Otherwise, you’re out of luck, Mattes.”
Rating: PG
Word count: 265
Pairing: Clary/Mattes
Round/Fight: 4/A
Summary: Mattes and Clary are short on wilderness survival skills. Set in the DeadAlive universe, where Mattes and Clary are FBI agents. Based on an X-Files quote.
-
I am struggling with the wood. I’ve barely paid attention to the wilderness survival talk in high school, and that was years ago. Making a fire drill is far harder than it looks. I glance at Mattes, see the way his eyes are drifting shut, and wince. What I do know is first-aid. Keep talking. Keep him awake. The wound didn’t look good, but we don’t have supplies with us here, and I’m not stupid enough to keep us walking through a forest at night. Not with Mattes down.
“You were an Indian guide,” I remember. Maybe I should bang the stones together, try to get some sparks to light the tinder. I’d have better luck that way. Maybe. “Help me out here.”
“Indian guide says maybe you should run to the store and get some matches,” Mattes says wryly. It’s too dim to make out his expression, but I think he’s smiling. But that’s Mattes for you. The idiot’s joking, even when he might be going into shock from the injury.
“I would, but I left my wallet in the car.”
“I was told once that the best way to regenerate body heat is to crawl naked into a sleeping bag with somebody else who was already naked,” Mattes says. I think I can catch the gleam in his dark eyes.
I can’t help laughing, anyway. It’s damp, dark, and cold, and Mattes is wounded, and he’s making come-ons in the middle of nowhere. “Sure,” I tell him, sarcastically, “Maybe if it rained sleeping bags, you’ll get lucky. Otherwise, you’re out of luck, Mattes.”