Ficlet: Jinx
Aug. 9th, 2009 04:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dolevalanTitle: Jinx
Fandom/original: original
Rating: PG
A/N:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rougen's fourth prompt, "you said it first."
“You’re always treating me like I’m still seven.” Clara angrily shoved her dagger back in its sheath. “I’m not an invalid.”
“Look, you’d call me on it, if lack of sleep was making me sloppy.” Yuri rolled his shoulder a bit, loosening it after his messy landing a few minutes before. “All I’m saying is that you should be aware.”
“Like I haven’t noticed my own bloody nightmares,” she muttered. “Noted. You can quit trying to be my father now.”
“Ouch. I was trying for roguish but loveable older brother.” He tried to sling an arm over her shoulders, but she ducked out of the way. “Don’t be that way.”
“You’re not my brother, you’re my partner.” Clara crossed her arms and looked at him steadily. “Don’t treat me like I’m made of glass. I’ve proven I can hold my own.”
He lifted his hands. “Fine, fine. But nightmares aren’t something you can just shoot, bury, and forget.”
She looked defiant. “They’re just dreams. No need for melodrama.”
“You were the one who said nightmares,” he pointed out. “I was just extrapolating.”
She hit him squarely on the bruise she knew she’d left on his left bicep.
“Damnit, Clara!”
“Drop it, then. Unless I ask you for help, drop it.”
He sighed. “…alright. For now.” But his expression was the equivalent of a child’s fingers, crossed behind his back.
Fandom/original: original
Rating: PG
A/N:
rougen's fourth prompt, "you said it first." “You’re always treating me like I’m still seven.” Clara angrily shoved her dagger back in its sheath. “I’m not an invalid.”
“Look, you’d call me on it, if lack of sleep was making me sloppy.” Yuri rolled his shoulder a bit, loosening it after his messy landing a few minutes before. “All I’m saying is that you should be aware.”
“Like I haven’t noticed my own bloody nightmares,” she muttered. “Noted. You can quit trying to be my father now.”
“Ouch. I was trying for roguish but loveable older brother.” He tried to sling an arm over her shoulders, but she ducked out of the way. “Don’t be that way.”
“You’re not my brother, you’re my partner.” Clara crossed her arms and looked at him steadily. “Don’t treat me like I’m made of glass. I’ve proven I can hold my own.”
He lifted his hands. “Fine, fine. But nightmares aren’t something you can just shoot, bury, and forget.”
She looked defiant. “They’re just dreams. No need for melodrama.”
“You were the one who said nightmares,” he pointed out. “I was just extrapolating.”
She hit him squarely on the bruise she knew she’d left on his left bicep.
“Damnit, Clara!”
“Drop it, then. Unless I ask you for help, drop it.”
He sighed. “…alright. For now.” But his expression was the equivalent of a child’s fingers, crossed behind his back.
