Ficlet: Reunion
Feb. 22nd, 2010 12:05 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dolevalanTitle: Reunion
Fandom/original: Original
Rating: G
A/N: 15 minute, unpolished. The prompt was "weathered." Actual... canon-verse Willoughbys! It's crazy.
She'd never expected to see him again.
The feeling had clearly been mutual; he looked just as shocked as she felt, but there was no lack of recognition there. Nicolas had filled out a bit since the last time she’d seen him. It was still, she had no doubt, all muscle, judging by his arms and shoulders. There was no gray in his hair, even in the small, neat beard he’d taken to wearing. Her twin looked a good ten years younger than she did, and about fifteen or twenty years younger than they actually were. Well, at least that answered the question about his diet, she thought wryly.
The man she was with said, “Ah, Doctor Hawdon. May I present Mr. Nicolas Willoughby?” He was oblivious to the fact that the two had clearly met before, which was just as well, really.
Nicolas bowed. “Doctor. I’ve read a few of your papers. Very intriguing.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Have you? I’m flattered; I’ve not much of a following among laymen.”
“I try to keep abreast of developments in fields that interest me.” He looked at her as if he was drinking her in, half stunned, half afraid she would disappear. “If you had time later, I would very much enjoy discussing some of your theories at more length.”
Stella’s lips quirked in spite of herself. “Well, I can hardly turn down such an offer, can I?”
Her companion chuckled. “Well. This is unexpected. Doctor Hawdon seldom has time for social engagements.”
“Well,” Nicolas said softly, “then I am all the more honored.”
After a bit more small talk, he disengaged himself and returned to the party, joining the swirl of chatter and cocktails. She watched him walk away. It was odd, how vividly familiar he was – and how changed. Though he was still handsome and suave as ever, there was something… hard about him, now. Something worn away, perhaps. He looked as tired as she felt. He always had been something akin to her mirror, even if he didn’t know it.
She wondered how she must look to him.
And despite all the reasons it was a horrible idea to meet with him privately… Stella couldn’t help but spend the rest of the rather dreary party planning what she would say to him, once they were finally alone.
Fandom/original: Original
Rating: G
A/N: 15 minute, unpolished. The prompt was "weathered." Actual... canon-verse Willoughbys! It's crazy.
She'd never expected to see him again.
The feeling had clearly been mutual; he looked just as shocked as she felt, but there was no lack of recognition there. Nicolas had filled out a bit since the last time she’d seen him. It was still, she had no doubt, all muscle, judging by his arms and shoulders. There was no gray in his hair, even in the small, neat beard he’d taken to wearing. Her twin looked a good ten years younger than she did, and about fifteen or twenty years younger than they actually were. Well, at least that answered the question about his diet, she thought wryly.
The man she was with said, “Ah, Doctor Hawdon. May I present Mr. Nicolas Willoughby?” He was oblivious to the fact that the two had clearly met before, which was just as well, really.
Nicolas bowed. “Doctor. I’ve read a few of your papers. Very intriguing.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Have you? I’m flattered; I’ve not much of a following among laymen.”
“I try to keep abreast of developments in fields that interest me.” He looked at her as if he was drinking her in, half stunned, half afraid she would disappear. “If you had time later, I would very much enjoy discussing some of your theories at more length.”
Stella’s lips quirked in spite of herself. “Well, I can hardly turn down such an offer, can I?”
Her companion chuckled. “Well. This is unexpected. Doctor Hawdon seldom has time for social engagements.”
“Well,” Nicolas said softly, “then I am all the more honored.”
After a bit more small talk, he disengaged himself and returned to the party, joining the swirl of chatter and cocktails. She watched him walk away. It was odd, how vividly familiar he was – and how changed. Though he was still handsome and suave as ever, there was something… hard about him, now. Something worn away, perhaps. He looked as tired as she felt. He always had been something akin to her mirror, even if he didn’t know it.
She wondered how she must look to him.
And despite all the reasons it was a horrible idea to meet with him privately… Stella couldn’t help but spend the rest of the rather dreary party planning what she would say to him, once they were finally alone.
