SV AU Fic: Mondays
Jan. 27th, 2004 11:46 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
out_thereTitle: Mondays
Fandom: SV... or an SV/JLU AU, at least.
Pairing: Chloe/Wally
Summary: According to Wally, Monday's suck.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Dude. This is a fic of an AU of two fictional universes. I own nothing.
Notes: A little bit of Wally/Chloe fluff, written to cheer Wendi up. (Set in her AU.) See? Mondays aren't all bad. *bg*
Mondays
Wally flops into the couch a split-second after the door opened. Looking up from her laptop, Chloe sees Bruce walking a few steps through the doorway. “Hey, Bruce. Thanks for dropping him home.”
“I could have run,” Wally grumbles, without much enthusiasm, as he pulls his boots off.
“You could have.” Bruce doesn’t smile. In fact, his face remains utterly motionless, but somehow, he manages to give the impression of smiling. “But it might not be a good idea with a twisted ankle.”
“It’s not twisted, it’s just… sore,” Wally finishes lamely, grimacing as he rubs his ankle. With a Speedster’s metabolism, the swelling has already turned a dark purple. On the good side, at least he won’t be injured for long.
Bruce is still standing just inside the doorway, managing to look relaxed and utterly uncomfortable at the same time. “Diana said she’d call and let you know we were on our way.”
“She explained what happened.” Which is why Chloe has brownie mix cooking in the oven. She knows her man well.
Bruce nods once, and then glances at Wally’s injury. “Considering your metabolism, that should be healed by tomorrow. Wednesday at the latest.”
Wally glares at him, “Great.” Wally’s always been a bit of a child at heart, but when he’s sick, it really brings out his cranky inner four year old. It’s ridiculously cute.
“Bye, Bruce,” Chloe says, walking Bruce outside before Wally can gripe any more. Closing the door behind her, Chloe turns back to Wally, and notices that his suit is drenched. She smiles. “You’re soaking the couch. Take the suit off.”
Wally pouts, but pulls the cowl back. “Don’t wanna.”
Chloe licks her lips, and lets her voice drop to a huskier note. “Are you sure you don’t want to get naked with me?”
Wally’s eyes darken and his grin is back, but only for a second. Then, he pouts again and whines, “I can’t.”
“You can’t?” Chloe blinks in surprise. When it comes to sex, Wally always can. She knows that for a fact.
Wally groans and hangs his head. “I can’t.”
“Why?”
Wally takes a deep, mournful breath. “The zipper’s stuck.”
It’s hard not to laugh at the lost expression on Wally’s open face, but somehow, Chloe manages it. The great Flash may be able to face super-villains, mutant gorillas and evil geniuses, but his morale has been destroyed by a simple zipper. “How did it get stuck?”
Wally shrugs. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I think it’s the power of Mondays at work.”
Wally has a grudge against Mondays. He always has. It’s the one night of the week he’d always try to avoid dating her, claiming he had to watch the Monday night game with the guys. It had taken her nearly a year to find out it was because Mondays had a particular grudge against Wally West. He’d spent months convinced that it would be Mondays’ final revenge to ruin their relationship; that if he saw her, she’d end up breaking up with him in some uniquely Monday-ish way.
Whatever could go wrong for Wally, went wrong on a Monday. In high-school, Wally swore that Monday was the day of unprepared pop quizzes. In college, it was huge hangovers (which Wally would admit were self-inflicted) and reports that were suddenly and unexpectedly due. Monday was when he found out that his favourite white shirt had been washed with reds and blues. The day when appliances broke down or he suddenly realised he hadn’t paid the electricity bill last week.
Wally even claimed that Mondays were the days when the Justice League were most challenged. It was when the nastiest, dirtiest, hardest fights were fought; when John just glared at everybody, when Bruce’s wit was extra cutting, and when Hawkgirl was most trigger-happy with her mace. The big problem with Mondays, as Wally would easily attest, was that the bad mojo didn’t strike independently. A Monday always heaped one bad thing on top of the other.
Sighing, Chloe wraps an arm around her damp husband. “What else happened?”
“Apart from the twisted ankle? Which, I should point out, wasn’t done while we were saving people from the Incessant Rain. No, this was actually done after we saved everyone and that damn weather machine was destroyed. This was done when we were inside the station, and everyone else was changing into dry clothes, but my zipper stuck. It stuck.” Chloe smiles encouragingly, and nods along. Once Wally starts a good whine, it’s hard to stop him. “The only thing more embarrassing than slipping and falling, while you’re saving people, in the rain? Is falling over trying to undo your own zipper!”
“Aw, honey,” Chloe manages to say, rubbing a hand against his arm and hiding her smile against his shoulder. “Was it that bad?”
“Bruce laughed out loud. I didn’t know the man actually laughs.” Wally sighs dejectedly, and then adds, “And I tore my suit.”
“Where?” Wally lifts his hand from his thigh, and Chloe can see where the seam has torn. It’s only a tiny hole, but it’s enough to make Wally look as if someone kicked his puppy. And then ran over it. “It’s okay, Wally. I can get Aunt Iris to help me fix it. It’ll be good as new.”
“Really?” Wally asks, turning big puppy-dog eyes on her. How could she possibly resist that expression?
“Good as new,” Chloe says, pressing a quick kiss against his cheek. “In the meantime, I think I know a way to make you feel better.”
Wally lifts an eyebrow, but he still looks wary. “Yeah?”
“Yep. First off all, I’m going to get you out of that suit if I have to tear it off with my teeth.”
Wally swallows, and his smile is small but cheeky. “And then?”
“And then, I’m going to run you a hot bath. With candlelight. And lots of bubbles.”
Wally grins. For some reason, a bubble bath always makes him smile. “And then?”
“And then, you’re going to get in, put your ankle up, and I’m going to bring you a big plate of chocolate brownies. Made with Aunt Iris’ extra chocolatey recipe.”
“You made me brownies?” Wally absolutely beams.
“I made you brownies.” Chloe leans over and kisses him softly, just a touch of warm lips against hers. “Do you want to know the final stage of my plan?”
“Well, considering the girls won’t be home for a few more hours, I think I can guess,” Wally says, waggling his eyebrows. “But I’d love to hear you say it.”
Chloe leans close to his ear, and breathily whispers. “We’re going to close the bathroom door, and forget it’s a Monday.”
THE END
Fandom: SV... or an SV/JLU AU, at least.
Pairing: Chloe/Wally
Summary: According to Wally, Monday's suck.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Dude. This is a fic of an AU of two fictional universes. I own nothing.
Notes: A little bit of Wally/Chloe fluff, written to cheer Wendi up. (Set in her AU.) See? Mondays aren't all bad. *bg*
Mondays
Wally flops into the couch a split-second after the door opened. Looking up from her laptop, Chloe sees Bruce walking a few steps through the doorway. “Hey, Bruce. Thanks for dropping him home.”
“I could have run,” Wally grumbles, without much enthusiasm, as he pulls his boots off.
“You could have.” Bruce doesn’t smile. In fact, his face remains utterly motionless, but somehow, he manages to give the impression of smiling. “But it might not be a good idea with a twisted ankle.”
“It’s not twisted, it’s just… sore,” Wally finishes lamely, grimacing as he rubs his ankle. With a Speedster’s metabolism, the swelling has already turned a dark purple. On the good side, at least he won’t be injured for long.
Bruce is still standing just inside the doorway, managing to look relaxed and utterly uncomfortable at the same time. “Diana said she’d call and let you know we were on our way.”
“She explained what happened.” Which is why Chloe has brownie mix cooking in the oven. She knows her man well.
Bruce nods once, and then glances at Wally’s injury. “Considering your metabolism, that should be healed by tomorrow. Wednesday at the latest.”
Wally glares at him, “Great.” Wally’s always been a bit of a child at heart, but when he’s sick, it really brings out his cranky inner four year old. It’s ridiculously cute.
“Bye, Bruce,” Chloe says, walking Bruce outside before Wally can gripe any more. Closing the door behind her, Chloe turns back to Wally, and notices that his suit is drenched. She smiles. “You’re soaking the couch. Take the suit off.”
Wally pouts, but pulls the cowl back. “Don’t wanna.”
Chloe licks her lips, and lets her voice drop to a huskier note. “Are you sure you don’t want to get naked with me?”
Wally’s eyes darken and his grin is back, but only for a second. Then, he pouts again and whines, “I can’t.”
“You can’t?” Chloe blinks in surprise. When it comes to sex, Wally always can. She knows that for a fact.
Wally groans and hangs his head. “I can’t.”
“Why?”
Wally takes a deep, mournful breath. “The zipper’s stuck.”
It’s hard not to laugh at the lost expression on Wally’s open face, but somehow, Chloe manages it. The great Flash may be able to face super-villains, mutant gorillas and evil geniuses, but his morale has been destroyed by a simple zipper. “How did it get stuck?”
Wally shrugs. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I think it’s the power of Mondays at work.”
Wally has a grudge against Mondays. He always has. It’s the one night of the week he’d always try to avoid dating her, claiming he had to watch the Monday night game with the guys. It had taken her nearly a year to find out it was because Mondays had a particular grudge against Wally West. He’d spent months convinced that it would be Mondays’ final revenge to ruin their relationship; that if he saw her, she’d end up breaking up with him in some uniquely Monday-ish way.
Whatever could go wrong for Wally, went wrong on a Monday. In high-school, Wally swore that Monday was the day of unprepared pop quizzes. In college, it was huge hangovers (which Wally would admit were self-inflicted) and reports that were suddenly and unexpectedly due. Monday was when he found out that his favourite white shirt had been washed with reds and blues. The day when appliances broke down or he suddenly realised he hadn’t paid the electricity bill last week.
Wally even claimed that Mondays were the days when the Justice League were most challenged. It was when the nastiest, dirtiest, hardest fights were fought; when John just glared at everybody, when Bruce’s wit was extra cutting, and when Hawkgirl was most trigger-happy with her mace. The big problem with Mondays, as Wally would easily attest, was that the bad mojo didn’t strike independently. A Monday always heaped one bad thing on top of the other.
Sighing, Chloe wraps an arm around her damp husband. “What else happened?”
“Apart from the twisted ankle? Which, I should point out, wasn’t done while we were saving people from the Incessant Rain. No, this was actually done after we saved everyone and that damn weather machine was destroyed. This was done when we were inside the station, and everyone else was changing into dry clothes, but my zipper stuck. It stuck.” Chloe smiles encouragingly, and nods along. Once Wally starts a good whine, it’s hard to stop him. “The only thing more embarrassing than slipping and falling, while you’re saving people, in the rain? Is falling over trying to undo your own zipper!”
“Aw, honey,” Chloe manages to say, rubbing a hand against his arm and hiding her smile against his shoulder. “Was it that bad?”
“Bruce laughed out loud. I didn’t know the man actually laughs.” Wally sighs dejectedly, and then adds, “And I tore my suit.”
“Where?” Wally lifts his hand from his thigh, and Chloe can see where the seam has torn. It’s only a tiny hole, but it’s enough to make Wally look as if someone kicked his puppy. And then ran over it. “It’s okay, Wally. I can get Aunt Iris to help me fix it. It’ll be good as new.”
“Really?” Wally asks, turning big puppy-dog eyes on her. How could she possibly resist that expression?
“Good as new,” Chloe says, pressing a quick kiss against his cheek. “In the meantime, I think I know a way to make you feel better.”
Wally lifts an eyebrow, but he still looks wary. “Yeah?”
“Yep. First off all, I’m going to get you out of that suit if I have to tear it off with my teeth.”
Wally swallows, and his smile is small but cheeky. “And then?”
“And then, I’m going to run you a hot bath. With candlelight. And lots of bubbles.”
Wally grins. For some reason, a bubble bath always makes him smile. “And then?”
“And then, you’re going to get in, put your ankle up, and I’m going to bring you a big plate of chocolate brownies. Made with Aunt Iris’ extra chocolatey recipe.”
“You made me brownies?” Wally absolutely beams.
“I made you brownies.” Chloe leans over and kisses him softly, just a touch of warm lips against hers. “Do you want to know the final stage of my plan?”
“Well, considering the girls won’t be home for a few more hours, I think I can guess,” Wally says, waggling his eyebrows. “But I’d love to hear you say it.”
Chloe leans close to his ear, and breathily whispers. “We’re going to close the bathroom door, and forget it’s a Monday.”
THE END
