no sleep and 4 hours of listening to Bush! OMG
title: doodles and work
pairing: oh jumblies. ocxmartin, nickxmartin
rating: err...g? PG maybe?
"I hate paperwork." Nicholas Angel reflected to nothing in particular. The office room was empty, save for Martin's desk and his notebook.
Martin's notebook was full of doodles. Little stick figures cramped into margins of police work. Martin was constantly doodling, tongue peeking out between his lips as the force of concentration overwhelmed him, all for a small stick figure. Sometimes it left his hand shaking.
Nicholas always smiled when he saw the doodles : dogs with oval bodies and stick legs, little people being shot/run over/arrested, flowers and lightning bolts. Random things. Sometimes his, Nick's, name in fluffy little clouds or tattooed on the side of fluffier sheep drawings.
Slowly, like the subtle changing of the wind temperature in summer, the sheep began to bare a new name. More letters, cramped onto a little bleating beast. Clouds that once belonged to him once, had changed too. And now Martin wasn't leaving his doodles out anymore, locking them in his drawer when he was spirited off by a dark eyed man who'd stolen what was Nick's in the first place.
This never ceased to fuel Nick's anger, watching as Martin's presence became infrequent around the break room - always showing up in the office harried and his shirt a bit messier than when he'd left the room.
The man was guilty enough for stealing his clouds and sheep, but to further add insult he was trying to steal his Martin from him! His pencil cracked in his fist as he watched the olive toned hand brush along Martin's cheek - blue eyes sparkling as this little passionate moment was shared with the darkest mocha brown eyes Nicholas had ever seen. Nick would tear his eyes away, breathing steadily through his nose as he heard the parting of lips.
Jealousy was a new emotion for him to experience, especially in such infuriating...raging...violent amounts. He'd strike the man but he would garner himself a termination from his duties, as that this man was a superior officer - powerpowerpower, power he didn't have.
But to see that spark in Martin, the younger man giggling and practically wriggling in his chair as the phone cord was twirled around an index finger in a coquettish manner - whispered conversations, blushing cheeks. It was too much for Nicholas sometimes. It should be him...him not this...this...bastard, a bastard who had Martin murmured a darker part of his brain.
When he felt Martin's hand slide along the back of his shoulders - saw that smile, heard those words 'movie, us, alone, tonite?' all he could do was nod dumbly and watch his young partner sashay out the door of the office. He looked at the papers beneath his hand - nothing came. Protocol fizzled in his brain, floundering to resurface...to finish, to be completed but he stood up from the desk with a sudden air of finality, and would finish it tomorrow morning he decided.
He hated paperwork anyway.
pairing: oh jumblies. ocxmartin, nickxmartin
rating: err...g? PG maybe?
"I hate paperwork." Nicholas Angel reflected to nothing in particular. The office room was empty, save for Martin's desk and his notebook.
Martin's notebook was full of doodles. Little stick figures cramped into margins of police work. Martin was constantly doodling, tongue peeking out between his lips as the force of concentration overwhelmed him, all for a small stick figure. Sometimes it left his hand shaking.
Nicholas always smiled when he saw the doodles : dogs with oval bodies and stick legs, little people being shot/run over/arrested, flowers and lightning bolts. Random things. Sometimes his, Nick's, name in fluffy little clouds or tattooed on the side of fluffier sheep drawings.
Slowly, like the subtle changing of the wind temperature in summer, the sheep began to bare a new name. More letters, cramped onto a little bleating beast. Clouds that once belonged to him once, had changed too. And now Martin wasn't leaving his doodles out anymore, locking them in his drawer when he was spirited off by a dark eyed man who'd stolen what was Nick's in the first place.
This never ceased to fuel Nick's anger, watching as Martin's presence became infrequent around the break room - always showing up in the office harried and his shirt a bit messier than when he'd left the room.
The man was guilty enough for stealing his clouds and sheep, but to further add insult he was trying to steal his Martin from him! His pencil cracked in his fist as he watched the olive toned hand brush along Martin's cheek - blue eyes sparkling as this little passionate moment was shared with the darkest mocha brown eyes Nicholas had ever seen. Nick would tear his eyes away, breathing steadily through his nose as he heard the parting of lips.
Jealousy was a new emotion for him to experience, especially in such infuriating...raging...violent amounts. He'd strike the man but he would garner himself a termination from his duties, as that this man was a superior officer - powerpowerpower, power he didn't have.
But to see that spark in Martin, the younger man giggling and practically wriggling in his chair as the phone cord was twirled around an index finger in a coquettish manner - whispered conversations, blushing cheeks. It was too much for Nicholas sometimes. It should be him...him not this...this...bastard, a bastard who had Martin murmured a darker part of his brain.
When he felt Martin's hand slide along the back of his shoulders - saw that smile, heard those words 'movie, us, alone, tonite?' all he could do was nod dumbly and watch his young partner sashay out the door of the office. He looked at the papers beneath his hand - nothing came. Protocol fizzled in his brain, floundering to resurface...to finish, to be completed but he stood up from the desk with a sudden air of finality, and would finish it tomorrow morning he decided.
He hated paperwork anyway.