James (elven_wolf) wrote,

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Fic: Merry Giftmas

Another attempt at Fic in a Barrel. [Computer, apathy, Christmas, kitchen.]

Setting: The Immortals, any time after Mercury Unchained.
Characters: Raeith and Patrick
Summary: Old habits die hard, and new inventions are silly.
Rating: Teen

I promise I'll give these two some sort of adventure for the next vignette. And Rikki wants in too.


"Okay, run this by me again because I think you lost me somewhere along the line the first time," Patrick said, holding up a finger which at one point had intended to make a point but now merely stood there feeling rather perplexed. "This... is a Christmas present," he said slowly, as the finger finally made up its mind what it wanted to do and leaned towards the new contraption sitting prettily on the kitchen table. "From Diana..."

Raeith nodded, unfolding the contraption so half of it stood at a near 90 degree angle from the table. Patrick was sure that Raeith could figure out what it was and what it did and how to work it in less time than it took Patrick to ask, but somehow he still hadn't been inclined to care what the thing was. It was just another one of the strange gadgets they'd seen since taking up temporary residence at Wednesday Technologies.

"Christmas present," Patrick repeated, emphasising the first word until it was almost a question in itself.

"Yep," Raeith replied, and pressed a button on the doohickey. A screen on the upright flat panel blinked and flickered to life. Behind it, the table was littered with red and green ribbon and themed wrapping paper, complete with angels and cartoon Baby Jesuses. Patrick reached for a torn piece and held it up. "You do know who this is supposed to be, right? Not exactly your best buddy celebrating his birthday."

Raeith shrugged. "You know better than that, Patrick," he said in a bored tone and started moving his fingers over the keyboard, making it go clack clack clack artlessly. Patrick was pretty sure it wasn't a noisemaker. It was definitely not a musical instrument.

Patrick rolled his eyes and dropped the piece of paper. Instead he turned to the refrigerator standing at the corner of their large kitchen and took out a bottle of beer. "This is strange," he mused, uncapping the bottle. He took a sip and leaned against the counter. The kitchen itself was designed in tones of white and grey, boxy and modern and completely uncomfortable. "Just walking to the fridge and getting a cold one. I'd almost forgotten what that was like."

Clack clack clackety clack went Raeith's new toy.

Patrick watched him for what felt like a long time. "Okay so why Christmas? Why not Yule or whatever you celebrated back in your glory days?"

It took a while for Raeith to answer. Patrick had almost asked the question again. "Diana is very into bloodlines, particularly her own."

"Well I know that she's a vampire. That doesn't mean she has to celebrate Christmas. Besides, I thought she was one of your people anyway."

"One, she doesn't have to celebrate anything. She wants to. Two, you do know 'my people' have a soul which transcends the body. Ergo, the body can be whatever we want it to be." And the clackety clack continued.

Patrick took another sip of beer, held the liquid in his mouth for a few moments before swallowing. "I'm still not sure I buy this whole 'immortal soul' business, you know. Not the way you tell it, anyway."

Raeith shrugged.

"And how come I didn't get one of those?" Patrick asked, pointing with the bottle at the machine.

"You didn't want one."

Maybe he didn't. Truthfully, he didn't see the point of most of Diana's doohickeys. The portable telephones could come in handy, he supposed, if he and Raeith ever needed such a mundane mode of communication. The other thingie that she'd showed him that had something to do with using satellites to find yourself also seemed woefully inadequate when compared to Raeith's clairvoyance. But maybe he would've wanted one anyway, you know, because Christmas is for getting shit you don't really want from well-meaning clueless relatives. Except he no longer celebrated Christmas. Well, he hadn't since he was a little kid, because back then he didn't know better.

Clackety clack clack clack...

Patrick rolled his eyes and put the bottle down. Trying not to think about what he was going to do because he knew Raeith was like to pick up on it, he made a grab for the machine, managed to snatch it from under the god's hands, and tossed it out the open window above the sink. A few seconds later he heard it crash on the pavement 15 stories below them. Then he turned to look at Raeith.

His companion was sitting at an angle on the chair, elbow rested on the table. He was looking at Patrick with a bland expression, accentuated only by the slight twitch of an eyebrow. "Do you feel better now, Patrick?"

"You saw that coming, didn't you?" Patrick asked.

Raeith shrugged and pointed a finger at the window. A few seconds later the computer, whole once more, came flying in and gracefully landed on the table. Clackety clack clack clack...

"I hate you," Patrick grumbled.

Tags: apollo rising, fiction

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