?

Log in

No account? Create an account

[icon] Fic: Untitled (PR:SPD) - Tired of bullshit dressed in gold.
View:Recent Entries.
View:Archive.
View:Friends.
View:Profile.
 

Tags:,
Security:
Subject:Fic: Untitled (PR:SPD)
Time:01:56 pm
Title: Untitled, as of yet
Disclaimer: SPD is not mine.
Characters: Z and other.
AN: ...yeah. My brain has stopped working on pretty much eveything. And I need to wok on writing endings again; this just halts in the middle of...stuff. Or maybe it's the first chapter of a few, I dunno. To put it bluntly, my muses are dead and I need to get back into it.



It was cold, for once. New Tech City wasn’t known for its winters; in fact, it was warm to hot for nine months out of the year. But after it rained, and during rain, and when all you had on was a shirt and a skirt and a jacket that were all soaked through very quickly, you got cold. Very quickly.

She wasn’t sure which direction ‘home’ was in anymore. She’d been turned around much too much after losing her necklace, and she didn’t know the streets she was on. And she wasn’t sure if ‘home’ would accept her after three days of being missing.

Z gingerly stepped over a beer bottle and sat down in the doorway of a warehouse, where she’d at least get out of some of the rain. She sniffed once, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

The rain began to fall harder.

She whimpered as the wind flung the water into her face, tiny pinpricks hitting her skin with painful intensity. Reflexively she curled up, hiding her face in her knees. She sniffed again.

Cold arms covered one side of her. Z lifted her face and gave a watery smile to her duplicate, who brushed some of the water (tears? Was she crying?) from her cheeks. She absorbed as much as she could from the hug, all the reassurance from something outside of her that said she was doing the right thing. Even if the reassurance came from someone that looked exactly like her and couldn’t talk and could only stick around for a minute.

The dupe disappeared and Z was alone again.

She sniffed again before creating another dupe – this one quickly ran out of sight around the corner of the building, past a locked door. She groaned as her strength gave out and the dupe fell apart, not even having the strength to maintain the dupe long enough to find out if there was a better hiding place further along.

“Hey!” a male, startled voice called out from that direction.

Z tensed up. Even as she started to stand up, she knew that she was too cold and tired to do anything. She couldn’t run away; her legs felt like cold spaghetti and she was breathing in tiny and shallow pants.

“Hey!” the voice was louder, and closer, and Z pressed herself into the door and wished that her yellow shirt was black to match the wall behind her. She closed her eyes and wished herself away.

It didn’t work.

There were heavy footsteps which splashed through a puddle of water, coming to a halt a few feet away from her freezing body.

“Are you okay, little girl?” the same voice asked, with a strange tone to it.

“Leave me alone!” she managed to say, but knowing deep in her tummy that if this guy wanted to do something, anything, to her, that she wouldn’t have the strength to resist.

“I will, if you tell me that you’re okay,” it said again.

“I’m okay!” she cried weakly.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I’m really okay, I am, I am!” she protested.

There was a scuffle in front of her. “You look cold.”

She opened her eyes just a smidgeon. The dark blur in front of her was kneeling, and didn’t look threatening. “I am cold,” she allowed, not being able to suppress a shiver on the admission.

“I have a fire,” the thing in front of her said. “And blankets.”

She opened her eyes a little more and saw…a man. A man with dark hair and dark skin and bright eyes which looked at her with concern and drips of water falling from his chin.

And she knew that it was stupid but she was just so cold and she didn’t care what happened next as long as she was warm. “Okay.”

She pushed herself up with both arms and gingerly tested her legs. The right one was numb and her left leg felt like someone was rubbing sandpaper under her skin. Z took one step and fell onto her butt.

“Ow,” she said, gathering all her strength to stop her lip trembling.

“Are you alright?” the man said.

“No,” she sniffed, losing her battle against hot, frustrated tears. Two big fat tears rolled down her cheeks, temporarily heating their path before they mixed with the rain and she got even colder than she had been before.

“Can I carry you?” the man asked with that tone back in his voice.

“Okay.”

He took another step towards her. Z let him scoop her up, one hand under her legs and another on her back.

He was warm.

“What’s your name?” he asked, just loud enough to be heard over the wind and rain.

“Z. What’s yours?”

He turned the corner. “Jack.”
comments: Promo time? Previous Entry Share Next Entry

aisho_ren
Link:(Link)
Time:2008-03-22 02:20 pm (UTC)
A Jack and Z first meating fic. Sweet.
(Reply) (Thread)

[icon] Fic: Untitled (PR:SPD) - Tired of bullshit dressed in gold.
View:Recent Entries.
View:Archive.
View:Friends.
View:Profile.