Til Death
Rating: PG
Fandom: Runaways
Characters: Steins
Prompt: For You I Would...
Notes: For 30 Sexy Fics
Disclaimer: This is me owning nothing.
Summary: Janet's having trouble writing vows.
10: For You I Would…
She sighed. Never thought marriage would mean she’d have to write vows.
Janet was not much of a writer. She didn’t enjoy it and avoided it when she could. Working on Victor’s various projects, or cars, or whatever happened right at the moment was much more interesting.
Yet there she sat, pen in hand, trying to come up with something that didn’t sound like a stupid movie.
She growled and threw the pen at the nearest wall. Victor stuck his head in to see what the matter was. Janet was positive he wasn’t having a problem with his.
“Jan? Are you all right?” he asked gently.
She fingered the dent in the wall, then reached for the now-broken pen.
“No,” she whined. “I can’t do this.”
He quirked an eyebrow at that. Couldn’t do what? What if she wanted to call the whole thing off?
“Jan?” he probed.
“Can we hire someone to write my vows?” she groaned. “I can’t do this.”
He sighed inwardly and pulled up another chair, sitting beside her and reaching for her hand. She tangled her fingers with his and squeezed. Victor kissed her knuckles.
“I’m sorry,” she sighed. “I’m no good at this stuff.”
She leaned heavily against him. He wrapped his arms around her.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Neither am I.”
She snorted. “Yeah, right.”
He brushed her cheek. “Most of the stuff I’ve come up with began, “For you, I would…” and ended with something about fire and brimstone.”
Janet chuckled.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No.”
She grinned, secure in the knowledge that she was not the only one having trouble. Slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly. They separated all too soon and he stood up to leave, turning quickly, and feeling irrational.
“I need to get back to mine,” he said. “They’ll probably come in handy tomorrow.”
“Yeah. Tomorrow.”
She smiled and watched him leave, then turned back to her vows. Had to fish in the desk drawer for an intact pen.
“There are some things I will only do for you,” she wrote. “For instance, the Chicken Dance, may you never ask for this. I would only sleep in your bed, only live in your house…”
It sounded corny to her, but by that point, she wasn’t sure she cared. She ended it with an ‘I love you,’ stripped off her clothes, pulled on a bathrobe, and went to find him in his study.
Fandom: Runaways
Characters: Steins
Prompt: For You I Would...
Notes: For 30 Sexy Fics
Disclaimer: This is me owning nothing.
Summary: Janet's having trouble writing vows.
10: For You I Would…
She sighed. Never thought marriage would mean she’d have to write vows.
Janet was not much of a writer. She didn’t enjoy it and avoided it when she could. Working on Victor’s various projects, or cars, or whatever happened right at the moment was much more interesting.
Yet there she sat, pen in hand, trying to come up with something that didn’t sound like a stupid movie.
She growled and threw the pen at the nearest wall. Victor stuck his head in to see what the matter was. Janet was positive he wasn’t having a problem with his.
“Jan? Are you all right?” he asked gently.
She fingered the dent in the wall, then reached for the now-broken pen.
“No,” she whined. “I can’t do this.”
He quirked an eyebrow at that. Couldn’t do what? What if she wanted to call the whole thing off?
“Jan?” he probed.
“Can we hire someone to write my vows?” she groaned. “I can’t do this.”
He sighed inwardly and pulled up another chair, sitting beside her and reaching for her hand. She tangled her fingers with his and squeezed. Victor kissed her knuckles.
“I’m sorry,” she sighed. “I’m no good at this stuff.”
She leaned heavily against him. He wrapped his arms around her.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Neither am I.”
She snorted. “Yeah, right.”
He brushed her cheek. “Most of the stuff I’ve come up with began, “For you, I would…” and ended with something about fire and brimstone.”
Janet chuckled.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No.”
She grinned, secure in the knowledge that she was not the only one having trouble. Slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly. They separated all too soon and he stood up to leave, turning quickly, and feeling irrational.
“I need to get back to mine,” he said. “They’ll probably come in handy tomorrow.”
“Yeah. Tomorrow.”
She smiled and watched him leave, then turned back to her vows. Had to fish in the desk drawer for an intact pen.
“There are some things I will only do for you,” she wrote. “For instance, the Chicken Dance, may you never ask for this. I would only sleep in your bed, only live in your house…”
It sounded corny to her, but by that point, she wasn’t sure she cared. She ended it with an ‘I love you,’ stripped off her clothes, pulled on a bathrobe, and went to find him in his study.