FIC: Home is Wherever I'm With You | Bones/Fringe
Title: Home is Wherever I'm With You
Rating: PG
Word Count: 575
Disclaimer: Neither Bones nor Fringe are mine, etc.
Summary: Vincent doesn't like flying, but at least he manages to stay inside the plane.
Vincent/Astrid (Bones/Fringe) - for weasleytook
(This isn’t the idea I originally had for them, because that’s long and I wouldn’t be able to do it decently right now, but yeah.)
Home is Wherever I'm With You
Vincent watches the ocean below them, the blue haze that stretches so far beneath his feet. Sometimes the ridiculousness of it overwhelms him when he’s on a plane-the thickness of metal and the velocity of the craft, the slim distance that separates his body and the freefall of air. Without his permission, his fingers tighten around the armrest, and he swallows thickly, but still he cannot tear his eyes away from the blue below.
A hand settles lightly on his skin, warmth invading his cells, soaking down into his pores.
“Hey,” she says, “First time flying?”
He manages a smile, uneasy as it is, and shakes his head. “No,” he says. “Sometimes it’s just…” He pauses. Swallows. “You know,” he says, “The Wright brothers studied birds in flight while working on their first airplane design.”
She smiles back at him, her teeth white and her eyes kind. “Well,” she says, “Birds have been doing it forever, and dinosaurs before that, so it can’t be all that bad, right?”
He settles back into the seat, and if he turns his hand until his fingers intertwine with hers, it’s not on purpose, and she doesn’t say anything about it, and maybe he’ll survive this flight after all.
Two hours later, there’s a woman flying (unassisted by an airplane, mind you), past his window. It’s raining, naturally, and there’s thunder and lighting and oh so very much turbulence, and Astrid, the very attractive lady next to him, is shouting into a cell phone that she probably really shouldn’t be using right now, but that’s not really what he’s concentrating on right now because there’s a lady flying outside of his airplane window.
“Walter,” Astrid’s yelling, “Walter, I’ve got to get her back in the plane somehow, but I don’t think she knows how she’s controlling it.” She nods, then shakes her head, despite this Walter fellow not being able to see her. “Walter, there’s lightning, she could get hurt! Also, we’re too high up, the air-”
Vincent would one day like to not be randomly pulled into situations, but he’s a feeling that that will not be this day.
Vincent’s got his hands tight around Astrid’s waist as she leans out. They’ve lowered the plane to just above the ocean, and the mysterious flying lady had followed them down, but it’s still drenching with rain and the lightning is still cutting through the sky at intervals.
“I don’t think this is a very good idea!” Vincent yells, trying to ignore the feel of Astrid’s waist beneath his fingers. She turns a little in his arms and grins up at him.
“Just hold me steady!” she yells over the thunder, and Vincent hooks his leg around the nearest pipe and does just that.
Afterward, they’re soaking wet. The flight attendants give them a dry change of clothes, and they take turns changing. Vincent’s hair is sopping wet, but it’s Astrid’s that distracts him, her hair and her eyes and the way she grins up at him as they return to their seats.
“Sorry,” she says. “Didn’t mean to drag you into that.”
And there’s a lot of things that he wants to say to that, a lot of questions he wants to ask. Instead, his hand finds hers. Her thumb brushes against his, and she leans into his shoulder. The sky outside is still dark and stormy, but here, wet and very nearly killed today, Vincent feels surprisingly at peace.
Finis
Rating: PG
Word Count: 575
Disclaimer: Neither Bones nor Fringe are mine, etc.
Summary: Vincent doesn't like flying, but at least he manages to stay inside the plane.
Vincent/Astrid (Bones/Fringe) - for weasleytook
(This isn’t the idea I originally had for them, because that’s long and I wouldn’t be able to do it decently right now, but yeah.)
Home is Wherever I'm With You
Vincent watches the ocean below them, the blue haze that stretches so far beneath his feet. Sometimes the ridiculousness of it overwhelms him when he’s on a plane-the thickness of metal and the velocity of the craft, the slim distance that separates his body and the freefall of air. Without his permission, his fingers tighten around the armrest, and he swallows thickly, but still he cannot tear his eyes away from the blue below.
A hand settles lightly on his skin, warmth invading his cells, soaking down into his pores.
“Hey,” she says, “First time flying?”
He manages a smile, uneasy as it is, and shakes his head. “No,” he says. “Sometimes it’s just…” He pauses. Swallows. “You know,” he says, “The Wright brothers studied birds in flight while working on their first airplane design.”
She smiles back at him, her teeth white and her eyes kind. “Well,” she says, “Birds have been doing it forever, and dinosaurs before that, so it can’t be all that bad, right?”
He settles back into the seat, and if he turns his hand until his fingers intertwine with hers, it’s not on purpose, and she doesn’t say anything about it, and maybe he’ll survive this flight after all.
Two hours later, there’s a woman flying (unassisted by an airplane, mind you), past his window. It’s raining, naturally, and there’s thunder and lighting and oh so very much turbulence, and Astrid, the very attractive lady next to him, is shouting into a cell phone that she probably really shouldn’t be using right now, but that’s not really what he’s concentrating on right now because there’s a lady flying outside of his airplane window.
“Walter,” Astrid’s yelling, “Walter, I’ve got to get her back in the plane somehow, but I don’t think she knows how she’s controlling it.” She nods, then shakes her head, despite this Walter fellow not being able to see her. “Walter, there’s lightning, she could get hurt! Also, we’re too high up, the air-”
Vincent would one day like to not be randomly pulled into situations, but he’s a feeling that that will not be this day.
Vincent’s got his hands tight around Astrid’s waist as she leans out. They’ve lowered the plane to just above the ocean, and the mysterious flying lady had followed them down, but it’s still drenching with rain and the lightning is still cutting through the sky at intervals.
“I don’t think this is a very good idea!” Vincent yells, trying to ignore the feel of Astrid’s waist beneath his fingers. She turns a little in his arms and grins up at him.
“Just hold me steady!” she yells over the thunder, and Vincent hooks his leg around the nearest pipe and does just that.
Afterward, they’re soaking wet. The flight attendants give them a dry change of clothes, and they take turns changing. Vincent’s hair is sopping wet, but it’s Astrid’s that distracts him, her hair and her eyes and the way she grins up at him as they return to their seats.
“Sorry,” she says. “Didn’t mean to drag you into that.”
And there’s a lot of things that he wants to say to that, a lot of questions he wants to ask. Instead, his hand finds hers. Her thumb brushes against his, and she leans into his shoulder. The sky outside is still dark and stormy, but here, wet and very nearly killed today, Vincent feels surprisingly at peace.
Finis