oroburos69 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
oroburos69) wrote2010-09-22 09:49 pm
oroburos69) wrote2010-09-22 09:49 pm
Entry tags:
Blue Skies 3, 4, and 5
Title: Blue Sky 3, 4 and 5
Summary: Waking up failed to fix things.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~900
Warnings:None.
Disclaimer: I do not own there characters, and I do not profit from this work.
A/N: This was written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
enmuse's prompts in the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
comment_fic community.
Blue Skies 3 - The Mentalist, Cho/Jane, Sunrise
The sun rises behind Cho, warm golden light spilling across white walls. He stares into his coffee, hands flat against the table to keep them from shaking. Distantly, he can hear his alarm going off. It's time to get up.
There's an oily sheen gleaming on the cold black coffee.
Three hours until the doctor's office opens. He stares into the cup, and swallows, hard. His head aches dimly, the pain dulled by time.
Cho blinks, sipping from the cold cup. The ceramic rattles against his teeth. His hands are shaking.
Spots of blue swim behind his closed eyelids. The swim and grow and breed and spawn until all he sees is blue. Endless, sunless sky.
Early morning traffic blurs by, the air conditioner buzzing quietly. Cho grips the steering wheel too tight, his knuckles bloodless from the tension.
He has a doctor's appointment in two weeks. Family history cut off the third week they'd tried to push on him. Cho blinks, fast and quick, ignoring the blue haze that drifts by for a second.
Cho's thoughts are clouded and crowded, and the drive streaks by, time disappearing to his worries. He nearly misses the turn into the office and takes it too fast, the seat belt digging into his shoulder. The sun shines through the side window, shining bright against his keys. Cho rubs away the sun spots blooming in his eyes.
It's early enough that his van is one of the first in the parking lot, only Jane's blue monstrosity in the far corner, parked under the light pole. Cho guides his van in beside Jane's, skimming a little too close. Jane won't be able to get in without walking sideways.
The morning sun is hot against his skin, harsh against his eyes. A headache sparks below just below his ear and, for the life of him, Cho can't figure out if he has a headache because he's worried or because of some other, more sinister cause. He digs his fingers in next to his ears, closing his eyes and watching the blue until he can stop thinking about Grandma.
Cho sighs, drops his hand to his side, and walks toward the main entrance. All things happen in time and he's taken the necessary steps, just in case. The worry fizzes and quells in the face of that logic, retreating to the back of Cho's mind.
Blue Skies 4 - The Mentalist, Jane (/Cho please?), Daydreams
Jane looks as tired as Cho feels, settled awkwardly on the edge of the old brown sofa and squinting down at a bedraggled paperback. He glances up when Cho walks in, and waves, a faint smile twisting the corners of his mouth. "Cho."
"Jane," Cho acknowledges, slumping into his chair. The back creaks and pops, and the coffee in his hands shakes inside the cup. A drop jumps over the edge, landing on the top of Cho's knuckle. It stings for a moment before it cools.
"Late night?" Jane asks, closing the book. He twists and drapes his legs over the the length of the couch.
Cho sighs through the bluish haze of steam rising from his coffee. "You could say that." He hadn't slept after waking up on the kitchen floor, the memory of blood cooling on his skin.
Jane hums softly, watching Cho from the corner of his eye. "Strange dreams?" he asks, every word level and measured.
Cho sets his cup onto his desk. His hands are shaking again. "You could say that," he repeats, staring across the empty office at Jane. Jane's eyes are as blue as the endless sky. Cho blinks and shade disappears into the darker blue of stormy seas. Cho looks away, licking dry lips. "I dreamed of blue skies."
Jane looks at Cho sharply, then holds his hands up, looking at them like they're the most interesting thing he'd ever seen. "Interesting," he answers and turns on his side, facing the back of the couch.
Cho sighs and flips open the closest file.
It takes half an hour, maybe longer, before Jane's breath evens out, whistling quietly. He's asleep. Cho pauses in the middle of typing up a report, confused by the sudden emptiness he felt. Jane hadn't been talking to him anyway.
The keyboard rattles comfortingly under his fingers, the soft noise of other agents in other areas are familiar and reassuring. Cho yawns, his eyelids heavy. Jane hasn't so much as twitched in the last hour.
The computer screen darkens and wavers in front of him, and Cho closes his eyes, the screen of blue light behind his eyelids welcoming.
Blue Skies 5 - The Mentalist, Cho/Jane, There are days when a person ought to go home, crawl under their covers, and close their eyes until the day is done. This was one of those days.
There are days when a person ought to go home, crawl under their covers, and close their eyes until the day is done. This was one of those days. Cho feels like someone had crawled inside him and attached high tension cables to every muscle in his back. It isn't even noon yet.
"You're certain?" Lisbon asks, and she sounds remarkably unconvinced.
"I'm fine," Cho replies. Jane's watching him, his fingers tapping on the edge of his book. He hasn't looked away since Cho woke up sprawled across the floor, the wheels of his chair spinning lazily in the air, faint memories of blue skies and the smell of smoke fading fast.
"You passed out," Lisbon points out as she picks up the scattered files.
"Low blood sugar." He's amused by his own remark, and the emotion feels incredibly foreign. "I'm fine."
"Of course you are. That's why we'll call it a vacation day instead of a sick day. Go home." Lisbon frowns thoughtfully. "Wait. Jane, drive Cho home. If he's fainting at his desk--"
"I didn't faint," Cho mutters, holding a hand to his forehead, trying to keep his thoughts from spilling out.
"--then he could faint at the wheel." Lisbon continues, unfazed by Cho's interruption.
Jane shrugs, but stops clicking his nails against the book's binding.
Cho straightens out slowly as the blue spots that blur his vision spin and disappear. "Make it a sick day," he says, "I'm not using my vacation days for this."
Lisbon nods, her eyes sharp and concerned.
"Jane?" Cho asks, letting go of his desk and only swaying a bit.
"Let's go." Jane replies. Cho's already at the door before he realizes that he started moving before Jane spoke.
Summary: Waking up failed to fix things.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~900
Warnings:None.
Disclaimer: I do not own there characters, and I do not profit from this work.
A/N: This was written for
enmuse's prompts in the comment_fic community.Blue Skies 3 - The Mentalist, Cho/Jane, Sunrise
The sun rises behind Cho, warm golden light spilling across white walls. He stares into his coffee, hands flat against the table to keep them from shaking. Distantly, he can hear his alarm going off. It's time to get up.
There's an oily sheen gleaming on the cold black coffee.
Three hours until the doctor's office opens. He stares into the cup, and swallows, hard. His head aches dimly, the pain dulled by time.
Cho blinks, sipping from the cold cup. The ceramic rattles against his teeth. His hands are shaking.
Spots of blue swim behind his closed eyelids. The swim and grow and breed and spawn until all he sees is blue. Endless, sunless sky.
Early morning traffic blurs by, the air conditioner buzzing quietly. Cho grips the steering wheel too tight, his knuckles bloodless from the tension.
He has a doctor's appointment in two weeks. Family history cut off the third week they'd tried to push on him. Cho blinks, fast and quick, ignoring the blue haze that drifts by for a second.
Cho's thoughts are clouded and crowded, and the drive streaks by, time disappearing to his worries. He nearly misses the turn into the office and takes it too fast, the seat belt digging into his shoulder. The sun shines through the side window, shining bright against his keys. Cho rubs away the sun spots blooming in his eyes.
It's early enough that his van is one of the first in the parking lot, only Jane's blue monstrosity in the far corner, parked under the light pole. Cho guides his van in beside Jane's, skimming a little too close. Jane won't be able to get in without walking sideways.
The morning sun is hot against his skin, harsh against his eyes. A headache sparks below just below his ear and, for the life of him, Cho can't figure out if he has a headache because he's worried or because of some other, more sinister cause. He digs his fingers in next to his ears, closing his eyes and watching the blue until he can stop thinking about Grandma.
Cho sighs, drops his hand to his side, and walks toward the main entrance. All things happen in time and he's taken the necessary steps, just in case. The worry fizzes and quells in the face of that logic, retreating to the back of Cho's mind.
Blue Skies 4 - The Mentalist, Jane (/Cho please?), Daydreams
Jane looks as tired as Cho feels, settled awkwardly on the edge of the old brown sofa and squinting down at a bedraggled paperback. He glances up when Cho walks in, and waves, a faint smile twisting the corners of his mouth. "Cho."
"Jane," Cho acknowledges, slumping into his chair. The back creaks and pops, and the coffee in his hands shakes inside the cup. A drop jumps over the edge, landing on the top of Cho's knuckle. It stings for a moment before it cools.
"Late night?" Jane asks, closing the book. He twists and drapes his legs over the the length of the couch.
Cho sighs through the bluish haze of steam rising from his coffee. "You could say that." He hadn't slept after waking up on the kitchen floor, the memory of blood cooling on his skin.
Jane hums softly, watching Cho from the corner of his eye. "Strange dreams?" he asks, every word level and measured.
Cho sets his cup onto his desk. His hands are shaking again. "You could say that," he repeats, staring across the empty office at Jane. Jane's eyes are as blue as the endless sky. Cho blinks and shade disappears into the darker blue of stormy seas. Cho looks away, licking dry lips. "I dreamed of blue skies."
Jane looks at Cho sharply, then holds his hands up, looking at them like they're the most interesting thing he'd ever seen. "Interesting," he answers and turns on his side, facing the back of the couch.
Cho sighs and flips open the closest file.
It takes half an hour, maybe longer, before Jane's breath evens out, whistling quietly. He's asleep. Cho pauses in the middle of typing up a report, confused by the sudden emptiness he felt. Jane hadn't been talking to him anyway.
The keyboard rattles comfortingly under his fingers, the soft noise of other agents in other areas are familiar and reassuring. Cho yawns, his eyelids heavy. Jane hasn't so much as twitched in the last hour.
The computer screen darkens and wavers in front of him, and Cho closes his eyes, the screen of blue light behind his eyelids welcoming.
Blue Skies 5 - The Mentalist, Cho/Jane, There are days when a person ought to go home, crawl under their covers, and close their eyes until the day is done. This was one of those days.
There are days when a person ought to go home, crawl under their covers, and close their eyes until the day is done. This was one of those days. Cho feels like someone had crawled inside him and attached high tension cables to every muscle in his back. It isn't even noon yet.
"You're certain?" Lisbon asks, and she sounds remarkably unconvinced.
"I'm fine," Cho replies. Jane's watching him, his fingers tapping on the edge of his book. He hasn't looked away since Cho woke up sprawled across the floor, the wheels of his chair spinning lazily in the air, faint memories of blue skies and the smell of smoke fading fast.
"You passed out," Lisbon points out as she picks up the scattered files.
"Low blood sugar." He's amused by his own remark, and the emotion feels incredibly foreign. "I'm fine."
"Of course you are. That's why we'll call it a vacation day instead of a sick day. Go home." Lisbon frowns thoughtfully. "Wait. Jane, drive Cho home. If he's fainting at his desk--"
"I didn't faint," Cho mutters, holding a hand to his forehead, trying to keep his thoughts from spilling out.
"--then he could faint at the wheel." Lisbon continues, unfazed by Cho's interruption.
Jane shrugs, but stops clicking his nails against the book's binding.
Cho straightens out slowly as the blue spots that blur his vision spin and disappear. "Make it a sick day," he says, "I'm not using my vacation days for this."
Lisbon nods, her eyes sharp and concerned.
"Jane?" Cho asks, letting go of his desk and only swaying a bit.
"Let's go." Jane replies. Cho's already at the door before he realizes that he started moving before Jane spoke.