Jareth appeared in the doorway, the air of command settling around him in a cloak of icy shadow. His expression brooked no argument.
I glanced blearily at him, and returned to reading through the latest email missive.
His foot started tapping, the pointed toe clicking smartly against the floor. “You need to step back. Get a breath of fresh air. Clear your mind.”
I rested my eyes on him again. I’d intended to glare with the fiery passion of a thousand suns, but I just didn’t have the energy. Plus, he was easy on the eyes, and my eyes could use some ease after hours of dealing with departmental nonsense.
He crossed his arms. “Well?”
I brushed half-heartedly at the Jareth-generated frost forming over my display screen, and then traced a frowny face through it. “I hate being chair of my department sometimes.”
“So don’t be. I don’t know why you insist on keeping your position in the mortal world, let alone one that brings you such aggravation.”
“They need me.”
“Pah.”
“Don’t you ‘pah’ me. I founded that department, I forged us into an interdisciplinary powerhouse with scads of funding, and now I have to keep this party going — stop rolling your eyes!”
He cocked his head to the side. “So this powerhouse department you’ve forged would crumble to dust without you at the helm, hmmm? Sauron called, and says he can give you lessons in how to forge.”
My lips twitched up in a brief smile. “That’s right, pull a Lord of the Rings reference. Make fun.”
“Or is it that you enjoy internecine political machinations? I guarantee ours are far more interesting in Faerie. Though no less petty, of course. And our diplomats could use an experienced hand.”
“Funny. Very funny. Do you have any practical suggestions, or have you just come to frost my electronics into oblivion?”
“Yes. Detach yourself from that infernal device—“
“I can’t! There are at least 30 more emails I have to respond to today.”
“Mmhmm.” He snapped his fingers and my display was instantly covered in a crystalline glacier sheet.
Well. I whipped out my tablet.
Another fingersnap. Another glacial glaze.
I snatched up my smartphone.
Jareth raised an eyebrow and poised his fingers.
“Fine.” I set the phone on my desk. “Just because I ignore the emails doesn’t mean they go away. They just multiply. Like mutant amoebae.”
In the space between breaths, he was behind me, his dexterous hands running gently down my shoulders and kneading in all the right places. “So let them multiply for awhile.”
I slumped forward in momentary muscular bliss. “How long is awhile?”
His scent washed over me, frost and Faerie and familiar as my own heartbeat.
“Long enough for serious distraction.” His mouth hovered against the back of my neck, hot and possessive. “I have some particular ideas on the details.”
“You always have such good ideas.”
“If only my wife would listen to them more often.”
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ninetydegrees
no subject
2021-02-01 23:43 (UTC)Drabble:
Jareth appeared in the doorway, the air of command settling around him in a cloak of icy shadow. His expression brooked no argument.
I glanced blearily at him, and returned to reading through the latest email missive.
His foot started tapping, the pointed toe clicking smartly against the floor. “You need to step back. Get a breath of fresh air. Clear your mind.”
I rested my eyes on him again. I’d intended to glare with the fiery passion of a thousand suns, but I just didn’t have the energy. Plus, he was easy on the eyes, and my eyes could use some ease after hours of dealing with departmental nonsense.
He crossed his arms. “Well?”
I brushed half-heartedly at the Jareth-generated frost forming over my display screen, and then traced a frowny face through it. “I hate being chair of my department sometimes.”
“So don’t be. I don’t know why you insist on keeping your position in the mortal world, let alone one that brings you such aggravation.”
“They need me.”
“Pah.”
“Don’t you ‘pah’ me. I founded that department, I forged us into an interdisciplinary powerhouse with scads of funding, and now I have to keep this party going — stop rolling your eyes!”
He cocked his head to the side. “So this powerhouse department you’ve forged would crumble to dust without you at the helm, hmmm? Sauron called, and says he can give you lessons in how to forge.”
My lips twitched up in a brief smile. “That’s right, pull a Lord of the Rings reference. Make fun.”
“Or is it that you enjoy internecine political machinations? I guarantee ours are far more interesting in Faerie. Though no less petty, of course. And our diplomats could use an experienced hand.”
“Funny. Very funny. Do you have any practical suggestions, or have you just come to frost my electronics into oblivion?”
“Yes. Detach yourself from that infernal device—“
“I can’t! There are at least 30 more emails I have to respond to today.”
“Mmhmm.” He snapped his fingers and my display was instantly covered in a crystalline glacier sheet.
Well. I whipped out my tablet.
Another fingersnap. Another glacial glaze.
I snatched up my smartphone.
Jareth raised an eyebrow and poised his fingers.
“Fine.” I set the phone on my desk. “Just because I ignore the emails doesn’t mean they go away. They just multiply. Like mutant amoebae.”
In the space between breaths, he was behind me, his dexterous hands running gently down my shoulders and kneading in all the right places. “So let them multiply for awhile.”
I slumped forward in momentary muscular bliss. “How long is awhile?”
His scent washed over me, frost and Faerie and familiar as my own heartbeat.
“Long enough for serious distraction.” His mouth hovered against the back of my neck, hot and possessive. “I have some particular ideas on the details.”
“You always have such good ideas.”
“If only my wife would listen to them more often.”
“I’m listening now.”
“Oh good.”