Post by Seek on May 29, 2011 6:53:29 GMT 10
Title: Drunk
Rating: PG
Word count: 357
Pairing: Clary/Mattes
Round/Fight: 4/A
Summary: Mattes is drunk. Set in the DeadAlive universe, where Clary and Mattes are FBI agents. Based on an X-Files quote.
-
She is almost asleep, drifting off into the quiet place where awareness slowly fades away to something else when she catches sight of the figure, slumped against the wall of her hallway, faintly silhouetted in the dim moonlight filtering in through the glass.
Trained reflex takes over at once; Clary screams – or swears – and rolls over and off the bed (less easy target that way), hits the floor, and fumbles for the handgun she knows she keeps by her bedside table.
“Awww, I woke you,” the figure says, alarmed, and then he takes a step forward, and Clary’s wavering brain wakes up, and realises who he is.
“Mattes, you sodding idiot,” she grumbles, lowering the gun. Still, her heart hammers, and she clicks the safety back on with the firm sound of finality and some disgust. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Did I wake you?” Mattes asks, and she thinks she catches the slur in his voice. Completely smashed, then. She lowers the gun (don’t point it anywhere you don’t want a hole in!) and holsters it carefully.
“No.” Irritation makes her short with him.
“Why not? It’s three in the morning…”
“Are you drunk, Mattes?” Clary demands, instead of pointing out that he should know better than to crash into her place at three AM in the morning if he knew she was going to be asleep.
“I... I – I was until about twenty minutes ago, yeah,” he admits, a forlorn figure, standing in her doorway. He looks pitiably lost. She gives him points for honesty.
“Was that before or after you decided to come here?”
There is something hard in him now; some hostility and anger. Maybe encouraged by the drink. She’s never seen Mattes like this before. “What exactly are you implying?” he demands.
Clary rubs wearily at her eyes with her free hand. All of a sudden, the fact that she’s been woken up at nearly three AM in the morning has come crashing back down on her. She fights back a yawn. She’s far too tired to argue with him. “Go home, Mattes,” she says quietly, “We’ll talk in the morning.”
Rating: PG
Word count: 357
Pairing: Clary/Mattes
Round/Fight: 4/A
Summary: Mattes is drunk. Set in the DeadAlive universe, where Clary and Mattes are FBI agents. Based on an X-Files quote.
-
She is almost asleep, drifting off into the quiet place where awareness slowly fades away to something else when she catches sight of the figure, slumped against the wall of her hallway, faintly silhouetted in the dim moonlight filtering in through the glass.
Trained reflex takes over at once; Clary screams – or swears – and rolls over and off the bed (less easy target that way), hits the floor, and fumbles for the handgun she knows she keeps by her bedside table.
“Awww, I woke you,” the figure says, alarmed, and then he takes a step forward, and Clary’s wavering brain wakes up, and realises who he is.
“Mattes, you sodding idiot,” she grumbles, lowering the gun. Still, her heart hammers, and she clicks the safety back on with the firm sound of finality and some disgust. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Did I wake you?” Mattes asks, and she thinks she catches the slur in his voice. Completely smashed, then. She lowers the gun (don’t point it anywhere you don’t want a hole in!) and holsters it carefully.
“No.” Irritation makes her short with him.
“Why not? It’s three in the morning…”
“Are you drunk, Mattes?” Clary demands, instead of pointing out that he should know better than to crash into her place at three AM in the morning if he knew she was going to be asleep.
“I... I – I was until about twenty minutes ago, yeah,” he admits, a forlorn figure, standing in her doorway. He looks pitiably lost. She gives him points for honesty.
“Was that before or after you decided to come here?”
There is something hard in him now; some hostility and anger. Maybe encouraged by the drink. She’s never seen Mattes like this before. “What exactly are you implying?” he demands.
Clary rubs wearily at her eyes with her free hand. All of a sudden, the fact that she’s been woken up at nearly three AM in the morning has come crashing back down on her. She fights back a yawn. She’s far too tired to argue with him. “Go home, Mattes,” she says quietly, “We’ll talk in the morning.”