bakerstreet | (no subject)

(no subject)

the AU VERSE IDEA meme

In your top level comment, describe an idea for an AU you have. It can be anything from a couple of words ("High fantasy AU!" "Jill dies instead of Jack!") to the most teal of deer describing how you see this AU playing out. Do not leave your comment blank. Feel free to include multiple prompts/ideas!

Now go around tagging other people whose AU ideas intrigue you. Plot further, or just fire right in with a starter tag for a thread in that verse.

????
Profit

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He glances up from his empty coffee cup, giving her a look that's equal parts surprise and confusion. He's spent most of the last week in the deranged little bubble of the repair and maintenance crew, who don't generally ask questions like that; mostly because they all look like shit and it's considered poor form to point it out. If anyone actually seems like they might be on the verge of collapse, they're 'advised' to leave the workshop for a few hours. Other than that, 'mostly functional and not actively bleeding on anything' is about as good as it gets for them these days.

"Uh-- yeah, sure," he replies. He shrugs and gives a weary laugh, gesturing with the empty mug. "Just tired."

It's not like they're really much better in the science department, but Jemma's got this protective instinct that manifests at odd times and often with those she doesn't know as well. In her department, there are fewer of them, and they at least try to present functionally, and -- well, Mr. Stark, Tony, is about this close to not doing that.

"When was the last time you slept?" she asks, because she can't not.

It's not that he ever deliberately seeks to work himself into the ground. It's just that he comes on shift, and a shipment of replacement servos has gone astray somewhere between Detroit and LA, and angry phone calls and snide emails are going around about a discrepancy on Widow's maintenance logs, and the dangerous goods permits for Commando's nuclear core are MIA, and by the time he's got onto the actual repairs he's two days behind schedule and hasn't slept in roughly forever. These things just happen.

He appears to give the question some consideration. "...what day is it?" he asks eventually.

They might, happen that is, but for Jemma, keeping people functional is sort of what she does. (In an indirect way, mostly, but that's part of working with the jaegers and their pilots, making sure everything runs smoothly, isn't it?) She understands that things happen, but taking care of oneself needs to be one of those things.

She sighs. Like so many of the people working here, it's like trying to handle children when it comes to this. "Tuesday," she says.

"About...four days ago, then." If a few hours' sleep snatched in between handing over and being woken up again for a neural-net related crisis shortly thereafter counts. The last full night's sleep, solid eight hours he'd had? He's not even going to try and remember. Actual numbers on that could only be depressing.

Apparently ongoing sleep deprivation if extremely bad for your concentration and general health, but in all honesty he's not sure he'd even know how to function while properly rested any more. He's used to being powered solely by caffeine and spite.

"It's fine," he adds, waving a dismissive hand, because he can see the first warning signs of the mix of concern and disbelief he tends to elicit in people. "I'll go get a few hours when the day shift comes on."

"I see," she mumbles. She's not really sure what the appropriate thing for her to do right now would be: on one hand, looking after people, but on the other hand, respecting his personal space. On one hand, she's a doctor, on the other hand he's got far more standing in the shatterdome.

Eventually it's the doctor side that wins, if quietly. "I'm sure you don't need me lecturing you about that," she observes, which of course implies that there's a lecture to be had if he would listen.

Tony gives a soft, tired laugh. "The lecture about looking after myself and getting enough sleep? Yeah, you can save yourself the effort, I've got it pretty much memorized by now." He does appreciate that she opted for implying the lecture rather than just launching into it though. Efficient. Saves him the trouble of not listening.

"If you're sure," she says. "Far be it from me to -- I don't know. Intrude. But I don't much enjoy seeing someone trying to look after the world and forgetting to look after themselves in the process." It's a little bit hypocritical, maybe, but it's true.

"There'll be plenty of time for sleep after we save the world." His smile is the tired smile of a man who knows better than to believe a word he's saying. But if giving up isn't an option - and it isn't - then they might as well at least pretend they think they have a chance at winning.

She still believes, though. Sort of. She wants to, anyway. She wants to think that they're not just doing all of this for nothing. She's that sort of person, goal-oriented and the like, where it's almost necessary because if she doesn't have a purpose she just sort of floats around listlessly. Sorry, Tony, right now you're part of her attempts to stay engaged and also her latent anxiety. "Do you really think that?"

"Course I do," he replies, easy and without hesitation, as though it's the easiest thing in the world. "'Cause if I don't, I'm wasting my time here, and I don't know about you but I don't really like that thought much."

"I don't either," she admitted, voice going soft like she was embarrassed about this. "I'd like to think we're going to see the results of our work eventually, but it's... well, I'm sure you've had days where it seems hopeless, too."

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