Fic: Patterns (S&S)
Sep. 9th, 2012 05:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thisbluespiritNot really relevant to anything, but... this ficlet comes in a roundabout way from a conversation I once had with ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
justice_turtle about Silver and Steel. I resolved to explain myself via fic. This is not that ficlet. That ficlet inevitably turned into longer gen fic about Silver and Steel and a ghost train (and candyfloss and mirrors). This is the second attempt, written solely to get me back into writing after I was so low all summer. (I was unsure I'd bother posting it, but then accidentally posted instead of saving the AO3 draft, so...)
Title: Patterns
Author:lost_spook
Rating: All ages
Word Count: 620
Characters/Pairings: Steel, Silver (mild Silver/Steel)
Notes/Warnings: None. Mostly only shippy if you squint, or if you're Silver.
Summary: Silver and Steel are a useful combination, even Steel has to allow that - and Silver's never really thought otherwise.
***
Silver disposed of the door’s lock with a touch and a short smile of triumph. Then, with a pause to glance behind him, he pushed the door itself open. There was an explosion of noise in his head that followed, filling it, and shutting out everything else. The world turned black around him and he was falling – or he felt as if he was falling. It was hard to tell.
It wasn’t very nice, he thought, but even that had to fight its way through the cacophony and seemed a far-away idea that might even belong to somebody else.
Then, before it got any worse, the sound retreated a little and he was falling no longer. Silver could feel someone’s hands on his shoulders, a supporting hold from someone strong enough to drive back the attack of noise, make himself in some sense a wall against it. Steel.
The racket faded still further and his fear with it. Silver relaxed into the hold gratefully, but said nothing. His thoughts were still whirling, in nothing like their usual order and it would take a few moments more for them to spring back into shape. Besides, the wrong word and Steel would let go – and Silver was quite happy where he was. Sometimes Steel’s strength alarmed him, but most of the time he found it reassuring, especially when it was directed against things that threatened perfectly harmless technicians.
“Silver,” said Steel, close to his ear. “That door was locked for a reason.”
Silver pulled a small, rueful face. “Yes. So I see – now.”
Steel was about to release him; he could sense it from the other’s movements, the fractional shifting away, but then Steel paused, curiosity colouring his thoughts. What did you make of it?
Silver ran what had happened through his mind. Now the onslaught of sound was over, there was opportunity to trace it back to the source – an ordinary sound system, record and tape player and loudspeakers – that was being used as a conduit for much more. He sorted through the individual sounds, teasing them out as separate strands. There was something… almost something… He frowned. It was too much to analyse this quickly, even for him – and Steel’s closeness was a definite and pleasurable distraction. He couldn’t help smiling to himself. “I’m not sure – yet.”
“Silver.” Steel drew away from him, and then let go of him, carefully. The Operator stepped back and then walked further down the corridor, frowning.
Silver thought about the question for a while longer, letting the echoes play in his head, and then tried to turn and instead fell over, finding himself lying on the carpet. “Oh,” he said, in mild surprise, but then returned his attention to the source of the problem. Horizontal or vertical was irrelevant. If the thought might have fluttered through his mind that the former was more likely to attract Steel’s attention than the latter, that wasn’t entirely relevant, either.
“Silver, get up,” said Steel, without turning to look.
“I can hear it,” Silver said, ignoring that instruction and remaining on the floor. “Steel, wait.” Voices, he thought, closing his eyes. Hundreds of conversations that had been held in that room, but with a point to their use here – a pattern – yes, a pattern…
Silver opened his eyes to find Steel looking down at him, and beamed upwards.
A pattern? Explain, Silver.
Silver nodded, and then glanced around at the world from his prone position as if he’d only then recollected it. He vanished for a moment, and reappeared propped up against the wall. Then he grinned at Steel and raised an eyebrow in invitation. It would be so much easier to do this the direct way. Want to hear for yourself, Steel?
***
justice_turtle about Silver and Steel. I resolved to explain myself via fic. This is not that ficlet. That ficlet inevitably turned into longer gen fic about Silver and Steel and a ghost train (and candyfloss and mirrors). This is the second attempt, written solely to get me back into writing after I was so low all summer. (I was unsure I'd bother posting it, but then accidentally posted instead of saving the AO3 draft, so...)Title: Patterns
Author:
lost_spookRating: All ages
Word Count: 620
Characters/Pairings: Steel, Silver (mild Silver/Steel)
Notes/Warnings: None. Mostly only shippy if you squint, or if you're Silver.
Summary: Silver and Steel are a useful combination, even Steel has to allow that - and Silver's never really thought otherwise.
***
Silver disposed of the door’s lock with a touch and a short smile of triumph. Then, with a pause to glance behind him, he pushed the door itself open. There was an explosion of noise in his head that followed, filling it, and shutting out everything else. The world turned black around him and he was falling – or he felt as if he was falling. It was hard to tell.
It wasn’t very nice, he thought, but even that had to fight its way through the cacophony and seemed a far-away idea that might even belong to somebody else.
Then, before it got any worse, the sound retreated a little and he was falling no longer. Silver could feel someone’s hands on his shoulders, a supporting hold from someone strong enough to drive back the attack of noise, make himself in some sense a wall against it. Steel.
The racket faded still further and his fear with it. Silver relaxed into the hold gratefully, but said nothing. His thoughts were still whirling, in nothing like their usual order and it would take a few moments more for them to spring back into shape. Besides, the wrong word and Steel would let go – and Silver was quite happy where he was. Sometimes Steel’s strength alarmed him, but most of the time he found it reassuring, especially when it was directed against things that threatened perfectly harmless technicians.
“Silver,” said Steel, close to his ear. “That door was locked for a reason.”
Silver pulled a small, rueful face. “Yes. So I see – now.”
Steel was about to release him; he could sense it from the other’s movements, the fractional shifting away, but then Steel paused, curiosity colouring his thoughts. What did you make of it?
Silver ran what had happened through his mind. Now the onslaught of sound was over, there was opportunity to trace it back to the source – an ordinary sound system, record and tape player and loudspeakers – that was being used as a conduit for much more. He sorted through the individual sounds, teasing them out as separate strands. There was something… almost something… He frowned. It was too much to analyse this quickly, even for him – and Steel’s closeness was a definite and pleasurable distraction. He couldn’t help smiling to himself. “I’m not sure – yet.”
“Silver.” Steel drew away from him, and then let go of him, carefully. The Operator stepped back and then walked further down the corridor, frowning.
Silver thought about the question for a while longer, letting the echoes play in his head, and then tried to turn and instead fell over, finding himself lying on the carpet. “Oh,” he said, in mild surprise, but then returned his attention to the source of the problem. Horizontal or vertical was irrelevant. If the thought might have fluttered through his mind that the former was more likely to attract Steel’s attention than the latter, that wasn’t entirely relevant, either.
“Silver, get up,” said Steel, without turning to look.
“I can hear it,” Silver said, ignoring that instruction and remaining on the floor. “Steel, wait.” Voices, he thought, closing his eyes. Hundreds of conversations that had been held in that room, but with a point to their use here – a pattern – yes, a pattern…
Silver opened his eyes to find Steel looking down at him, and beamed upwards.
A pattern? Explain, Silver.
Silver nodded, and then glanced around at the world from his prone position as if he’d only then recollected it. He vanished for a moment, and reappeared propped up against the wall. Then he grinned at Steel and raised an eyebrow in invitation. It would be so much easier to do this the direct way. Want to hear for yourself, Steel?
***
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-09-09 04:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-09 08:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-09 05:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-09 08:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-09 06:23 pm (UTC)Oh, and the pleasurable distraction wasn't too hard to squint at. ;)
no subject
Date: 2012-09-09 08:20 pm (UTC)