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deathpixieNot one of the mprov fics, but something I wrote a couple of years ago and didn't like the ending. So I re-wrote it. Enjoy.
Fandom: Hellblazer/Books of Magic.
Rating: PG-13 for some swearing.
Summary: John Constantine and Tim Hunter have breakfast and discuss the state of Tim's magic. They're unaware they're providing an eavesdropper with some interesting ideas.
Set early on in Tim's career of being potentially this era's most powerful mage. Apologies for any offence caused by Certain Implications. ;)
No profit, only homage. And possibly some piss-taking.
"Give us a cuppa, love, and the full breakfast. Same for the kid. We've just been to Hell and back."
"Sounds like my last night shift. Have a seat, lads."
The pair certainly looked like they'd had a rough time. The sandy-haired man's trenchcoat was ripped in several places and stained with something that didn't bear dwelling on. The boy accompanying him had similar tears in his t-shirt and one arm had several long scratches that looked like they been inflicted by claws. He sported another scratch on his forehead, zigzagging down from the dark hair that fell over his forehead to just above the rims of his thick glasses. He flopped into his seat as if he had suddenly become boneless and wrinkled his nose as the man lit a cigarette from the packet of Silk Cut he pulled out of his jacket pocket.
"Geez, John, those smell worse than that demon's armpit"
"And how would you know? You weren't the one getting his head almost pulled off trying to save your arse," John retorted irritably.
"As I recall, it was _me_ saving _you_," the boy sniffed.
"No-one would have needed saving at all if you hadn't been mucking around with things too powerful for you. How many times do I have to tell you, Tim, magic ain't for kids."
Tim's pale face flushed blotchy red, but just as he opened his mouth to argue further, the woman from behind the counter approached their table. She plonked down two large mugs of strong tea and shuffled over to the only other occupied table in the café, a young dark-haired woman in threadbare but good quality clothing by the window. The waitress took away a plate that could have been licked clean, and gave the woman a dour look, which was ignored. The customer had her hands cupped around another of those large mugs of tea, sipping it slowly, prolonging it as much as possible.
Once their brawny waitress was out of earshot, Tim said sulkily to John: "What's the point of being this generation's potentially most powerful magician if you never _teach_ me anything? You keep going on about how magic is dangerous and all, but wouldn't it make sense for you to teach me how to avoid this sort of thing? It's not like I can just go to wizard's school."
John regarded the boy sitting opposite for so long Tim squirmed. "Fine, I get it - magic has a price. But I'm stuck with it now; even when I try to get away from it, it follows me. So wouldn't it be in your interest to show me what to do? Before something worse happens?"
"You have no idea, kid," John said, but anything else he was about to say was interrupted by the arrival of breakfast, large plates loaded with eggs and toast and bacon, all coated liberally with grease. Tim grabbed for the HP sauce bottle.
"See, the more you know, the more dangerous it gets, kid. And you can't rely on me to be around to help you out," John explained through a mouthful of eggy toast as he watched Tim inhale his food. "Besides, I've got people after me, nasty sorts. The sort who wouldn't hesitate to use you against me."
"Great, you've got the Magical Mafia after you. Where does that leave me?"
"Keeping your nose out of the whole thing, least until you can find yourself a teacher. No more dabbling." John pointed at Tim with his fork. "You get me?"
Tim pouted mutinously, but couldn't withstand the power of John's icy blue glare. "Okay, fine. No magic on purpose," he sighed. At John's raised eyebrow, he explained. "I can't help the stuff that finds _me_, John. You have to know what that's like."
John nodded reluctantly. "Fair enough. But if you go playing around with summoning spells again, you're on your own, right?"
"Yes, John." They finished their meal in silence, polishing off the huge amount of food with surprising speed. When they were done they left, John shrugging into his stained and torn coat with a meaningful look at the owner, the one that said 'If anyone asks, we were never here'.
The dark-haired woman by the window watched them go, a strange gleam in her eyes. "How very interesting," she murmured to herself.
"'Ere, you gunna sit there all day or what?" asked the burly waitress, finally losing patience with the lingering customer.
"Actually, no, I don't believe I shall," replied the woman with a slightly pleased-with-herself smile. "I've got the most amazing idea for a book." Stuffing her belongings back in her bag, her eye fell on the cover of the women's magazine she'd been reading. As per most English women's magazines, it featured a picture of one of the more attractive members of the Royal Family.
"Harry's a good name," she decided.
Fandom: Hellblazer/Books of Magic.
Rating: PG-13 for some swearing.
Summary: John Constantine and Tim Hunter have breakfast and discuss the state of Tim's magic. They're unaware they're providing an eavesdropper with some interesting ideas.
Set early on in Tim's career of being potentially this era's most powerful mage. Apologies for any offence caused by Certain Implications. ;)
No profit, only homage. And possibly some piss-taking.
"Give us a cuppa, love, and the full breakfast. Same for the kid. We've just been to Hell and back."
"Sounds like my last night shift. Have a seat, lads."
The pair certainly looked like they'd had a rough time. The sandy-haired man's trenchcoat was ripped in several places and stained with something that didn't bear dwelling on. The boy accompanying him had similar tears in his t-shirt and one arm had several long scratches that looked like they been inflicted by claws. He sported another scratch on his forehead, zigzagging down from the dark hair that fell over his forehead to just above the rims of his thick glasses. He flopped into his seat as if he had suddenly become boneless and wrinkled his nose as the man lit a cigarette from the packet of Silk Cut he pulled out of his jacket pocket.
"Geez, John, those smell worse than that demon's armpit"
"And how would you know? You weren't the one getting his head almost pulled off trying to save your arse," John retorted irritably.
"As I recall, it was _me_ saving _you_," the boy sniffed.
"No-one would have needed saving at all if you hadn't been mucking around with things too powerful for you. How many times do I have to tell you, Tim, magic ain't for kids."
Tim's pale face flushed blotchy red, but just as he opened his mouth to argue further, the woman from behind the counter approached their table. She plonked down two large mugs of strong tea and shuffled over to the only other occupied table in the café, a young dark-haired woman in threadbare but good quality clothing by the window. The waitress took away a plate that could have been licked clean, and gave the woman a dour look, which was ignored. The customer had her hands cupped around another of those large mugs of tea, sipping it slowly, prolonging it as much as possible.
Once their brawny waitress was out of earshot, Tim said sulkily to John: "What's the point of being this generation's potentially most powerful magician if you never _teach_ me anything? You keep going on about how magic is dangerous and all, but wouldn't it make sense for you to teach me how to avoid this sort of thing? It's not like I can just go to wizard's school."
John regarded the boy sitting opposite for so long Tim squirmed. "Fine, I get it - magic has a price. But I'm stuck with it now; even when I try to get away from it, it follows me. So wouldn't it be in your interest to show me what to do? Before something worse happens?"
"You have no idea, kid," John said, but anything else he was about to say was interrupted by the arrival of breakfast, large plates loaded with eggs and toast and bacon, all coated liberally with grease. Tim grabbed for the HP sauce bottle.
"See, the more you know, the more dangerous it gets, kid. And you can't rely on me to be around to help you out," John explained through a mouthful of eggy toast as he watched Tim inhale his food. "Besides, I've got people after me, nasty sorts. The sort who wouldn't hesitate to use you against me."
"Great, you've got the Magical Mafia after you. Where does that leave me?"
"Keeping your nose out of the whole thing, least until you can find yourself a teacher. No more dabbling." John pointed at Tim with his fork. "You get me?"
Tim pouted mutinously, but couldn't withstand the power of John's icy blue glare. "Okay, fine. No magic on purpose," he sighed. At John's raised eyebrow, he explained. "I can't help the stuff that finds _me_, John. You have to know what that's like."
John nodded reluctantly. "Fair enough. But if you go playing around with summoning spells again, you're on your own, right?"
"Yes, John." They finished their meal in silence, polishing off the huge amount of food with surprising speed. When they were done they left, John shrugging into his stained and torn coat with a meaningful look at the owner, the one that said 'If anyone asks, we were never here'.
The dark-haired woman by the window watched them go, a strange gleam in her eyes. "How very interesting," she murmured to herself.
"'Ere, you gunna sit there all day or what?" asked the burly waitress, finally losing patience with the lingering customer.
"Actually, no, I don't believe I shall," replied the woman with a slightly pleased-with-herself smile. "I've got the most amazing idea for a book." Stuffing her belongings back in her bag, her eye fell on the cover of the women's magazine she'd been reading. As per most English women's magazines, it featured a picture of one of the more attractive members of the Royal Family.
"Harry's a good name," she decided.
no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 02:29 am (UTC)