(no subject)

[ladyfirestarter]

Every so often, Charlie's called to the home office in New York. She tries to arrange a day or two extra before and after the scheduled meeting, just to walk around and see the city.

The desert has become her heart's home, but ... once or twice a year she starts to sicken for the sight of skyscrapers and yellow cabs, the way some people sicken for mountains or the sea.

It's a brisk day in early September, cool and breezy, ideal for walking.

Comments

[notboundnow.livejournal.com]

It's distracting. Not in an unpleasant way.

"You have, and you do. It's just Option A amped up and without the fun prelude. Like I said, not my favorite option, but if you think it would help, I'll work with it."

[ladyfirestarter]

She nods, half forgetting he can't see her.

"And is there an Option C?"

[notboundnow.livejournal.com]

"Yeah. It's the one I'm least sure of, but only 'cause I've never done it before. It would take some traveling. You'd have to take time off and come with me somewhere."

[ladyfirestarter]

A pause.

"Yeah?" That's mostly curious; if there's suspicion in there, it's good-natured.

"What kind of somewhere?"

[notboundnow.livejournal.com]

"Somewhere hot and dirty." A young woman pushing a grocery cart looks up, alarmed, and hurries past. Prometheus allows himself a chuckle.

"Boetia somewhere. The Old Country, assuming it's not all on fire."

[ladyfirestarter]

"And what's there? Aside from fire?"

Something of Prometheus's restlessness has communicated itself through the link. Charlie studies the chairs and tables in Herald Square, looks up briefly at the statue of Athena and the bell-ringers, and shakes her head and walks on.

[notboundnow.livejournal.com]

He looks out over the throng of people around him.

"Clay," he murmurs. "Good clay at that."

[ladyfirestarter]

She wouldn't know what to make of that, except -- he's said some things.

Quietly: "The kind of clay you make people out of?"

[notboundnow.livejournal.com]

He takes a breath. "That... was the original purpose, yeah. I've come back to it from time to time, though. It's -- potent stuff, in its own right. With a little guidance, it can be anything."

He scrubs one hand through his hair, and looks over each shoulder, just to be sure. New York is full of things other than just people, and you never know who could be listening in.

"It doesn't do anything to me, but to a human being, it can... change things, in significant ways."

[ladyfirestarter]

That gets a long, long pause.

Charlie's standing motionless on the corner of 32nd and Broadway.




"Change things," she repeats finally.

[notboundnow.livejournal.com]

"Yes."

He wishes he could see her now, to gauge that silence.

"I was thinking it that night, but I didn't bring it up, because I wasn't sure. And the more I think about it, I'm convinced it could -- Charlie." He lowers his voice. "I don't know if it could put out the firething, or even if you'd want that, but I think it might stop it from hurting you."

[ladyfirestarter]

The light changes ahead of her, and the crowd of pedestrians swarms past. For a moment she doesn't move, a small stone in a river.

As the DON'T WALK light starts to blink its warning, she starts across, walking faster than before.

"Permanently?"

[notboundnow.livejournal.com]

"It should."

He waits.

"What are you thinking?"

[ladyfirestarter]

Her feet are hitting the pavement hard, moving fast, sidestepping around slower-moving people.

"Not so much thinking," she says, with a small shaky laugh. "I don't ... I'm not sure what to think."

[notboundnow.livejournal.com]

A crooked smile snakes its way across his face.

"There's no clock ticking. All options are on the table. Particularly the first one."

Prometheus stops to take stock of where he is. New Yorkers don't do this. Almost instantaneously, a man with a fanny pack taps him on the shoulder. A woman, also with a fanny pack, waits behind him. Prometheus cups his hand around one ear as he turns to face them.

"Excuse me," the tourist says, "you don't happen to know where the -- what was it called, honey? The thin, pointy building on the intersection."

"The Flatiron Building," the wife provides.

"Yeah." The tourist looks up at Prometheus hopefully.

"The Flatiron? -- 'Scuse me for a sec." Prometheus holds out an arm behind him. "Go that way, maybe seven, eight blocks. Can't miss."

The tourists beam. "Thanks!"

He dips his head. "No problem." His crosswalk goes red.

[ladyfirestarter]

"-- Was that you just now? Talking about the Flatiron building?"

Charlie sounds startled.

[notboundnow.livejournal.com]

"--I didn't say I was in New York? Oh." A smile! "I'm in New York."

[ladyfirestarter]

"You neglected to mention it."

That's amused, rather than annoyed.

"And seven or eight blocks north of the Flatiron Building? We're practically on top of each other."

Half a beat.

"Don't touch that one."

[notboundnow.livejournal.com]

He holds up a hand. "No touching, but I'm thinking it pretty loud, don't you think?"

The crosswalk changes. He steps into the street. "This is going to be a recurring theme, isn't it. The there-but-for-the-division-of-the-multiverse thing."

[ladyfirestarter]

"Works for me." Smiling. "What's the weather like in your New York?"

Another pedestrian gives her an odd look at that, and walks on.

(Later in the week, the line will show up on www.overheardinnewyork.com.)

[notboundnow.livejournal.com]

"I'm trying to remember the words. Hang on."

A pause, then: "Sunny day, sweepin' the -- clouds away!"

The words fit: New York could have been painted by Vermeer today, if he were more given to outdoor scenes. The light shimmers over a vivid sky-and-stone palette.

"On my way to where the air is sweet."

Prometheus would look like Gene Kelly, given a little more rain and a little more room to dance. He cranes his neck, only half paying attention to where he's going.

"Can you tell me how to get, how to get to Sesame Street?"

[ladyfirestarter]

Yep. Charlie's laughing again.

"You are a loon."

She can picture him, dancing along the sidewalk, the crowd of pedestrians eddying around to give the crazy man a wide berth -- kind of like that sudden bubble in the crowd two blocks down, on the other side of Broadway --

-- wait.

[notboundnow.livejournal.com]

He barks a laugh mid-stride. "I am nothing more than an enjoyer of fine public programming! Don't tell me you're immune to the charm of muppets, now."

[ladyfirestarter]

"Nobody's immune to the charm of muppets."

She's slowed down a little, studying the movement of the crowd.

It can't be. It's a coincidence.

[notboundnow.livejournal.com]

"I'm glad some things are a universal constant."

He sails over the sidewalk, not even pretending to hold a phone, just talking out loud and smiling.

New York is heady. He's only observant as far as it keeps him from walking into people.