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jedibuttercupB:tVS/F&F; 1000 words. (Post-Hobbs & Shaw). 3rd in the Summers & Hobbs & Shaws series. For ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
twistedshorts.
"Mundane, she says," Deckard muttered, shaking his head in disgust.
Title: Business As Usual, I Suppose
Author: Jedi Buttercup
Disclaimer: The words are mine; the worlds are not.
Rating: T/PG-13
Spoilers: Post-movie tag for Hobbs & Shaw; very post-series for B:tVS
Notes: Inspired by all the internet jokes about Jason Statham and Vanessa Kirby playing supposedly-close-in-age siblings... and some of the movie's other leaps of logic (and physics). I actually wrote this part before "Navigating the Fallout", then went back to add that bit to connect the dots a little more. :)
Summary: "Mundane, she says," Deckard muttered, shaking his head in disgust.
"Hey." Deckard Shaw set his hand on his sister's arm as they caught a moment's peace amid the post-battle celebrations. They all knew the win had only been temporary, even the big lunkhead and his family; but immediate disaster had been averted, and that was enough for now. It had been a lot closer than he would like, though. "How are you, really?"
Hattie let him turn her hand over, exposing the three already healing marks from the injection machine and the fresher, bandaged wound from the device that had sucked the programmable virus back out of her bloodstream. "Sore. Grateful to be facing another day. Business as usual, I suppose."
He gave her a dirty look. "Be serious, Hattie. We were right up to the deadline on this one. What if some of those capsules decayed a little early? Or if that fancy machine didn't quite get them all? This is bullshit science as it is; even if the Professor was on the up-and-up, I don't trust Eteon as far as I could throw Brixton."
"Which is to say, not at all." She gave him a wry, affectionate smile, then squeezed his hand briefly before letting go. "Don't worry, Deck. As soon as I leave here, I'll be paying a visit to my other superiors to let them know this is still a mundane issue-- if only just. I'll have the coven check me over while I'm there; and if there is anything left over, my healing factor should take care of it anyway. I'll be fine."
"Mundane, she says," he muttered, shaking his head in disgust. "Supermen and super-viruses and bloody Hobbs arm-wrestling a helicopter. Did you get a load of that bullshit? I blew that man through the window of the DSS office once, and he walked away from it with only a few broken bones. If we hadn't just met his family, I'd be asking you if you were sure he was entirely human."
"I was in fact in the chopper at the time, so no, I had other concerns than what exactly your new best friend was up to," she said, dryly. "But even if he does have a little something extra, I'd be careful what stones I threw, anyway. Or have you forgotten already what I told you about Slayer bloodlines?"
Deckard wrinkled his nose at the reminder. Between his mother's less than legal career and his own adventures under the flag of their country in special operations, he'd seen enough to believe the supernatural was real when it had upended his sister's life a decade and a half ago-- but he'd been less than impressed with the organization that had come into his sister's life as a result, claiming that she had a destiny to fight it. Even accounting for the fact that a lot of their records and most of their leadership had been destroyed not long before they'd found Hattie, they'd had way too few answers for the amount of questions that needed asking. But they'd slowly started filling in some of those answers since, including the fact that many of their 'Slayers' were actually born to traceable bloodlines with nonhuman lineage somewhere back in the family tree.
Which only went to show that some people were willing to get a leg over anything. Well, there was no accounting for taste. Take Hobbs, for example.
"Why did you have to be the one to get all the magic bullshit abilities, then?" he complained, relaxing enough to smile back at her. "Another few years, and people aren't going to believe any of my stories about us growing up together any more. Try telling Hobbs you're actually the middle child; he'll never believe you. When are you finally going to start aging again, anyway?"
Hattie rolled her eyes. "I am aging; it's just the healing factor, they think. One of these days, all the damage'll finally catch up to me. But until then, at least I look pretty doing it." She struck a pose against the lush backdrop of the Samoan scenery, smirking at him.
"If you're fishing for compliments, your ego's swelled enough already," he scoffed. "About the Council, though. Since you brought them up. I'm assuming it was their contacts you were using to get clear of Brixton's trap, before you ran into Hobbs. But why didn't they send any of their heavy-hitters to help?"
"Spy business is spy business; supernatural business is theirs," she shrugged. "If they tried to interfere in every high-tech heist and terrorist plot they'd never get anything else done, and believe me, what they do is important. I told them to stay back until the virus issue was resolved, one way or another; if it had gone wide, they'd have got involved, but until then, it was a day job problem, not a night job problem."
That didn't reassure Deckard much; he was of the opinion that they should have sent her backup anyway.
Then again, she was thoroughly formidable on her own. Only Hobbs, and Brixton himself, had given her any real trouble. "Yeah, yeah, you're a self-rescuing princess, I get it," he sighed. "I retract the question. Just one more thing, though, if you're leaving again already."
"Yeah?" Her expression softened, much more reminiscent of the close relationship they'd had before Eteon and Brixton and the betrayal that had sent him down a dark path. He'd missed her; and it seemed she'd missed him, too. Their family would never entirely be what it once was-- not after everything that had happened with Owen-- but at least they had each other back, now.
"I kind of promised Mum we'd go see her-- together," he said. Well, more or less.
Hattie's smile bloomed wide. "Is that why she's still inside? Waiting for us to kiss and make up? I'd wondered."
"Yeah, well." Deckard shrugged. "There was some mention of a cake, as well."
"Of course there was," she laughed, delighted. "Alright, Deck; you have a deal."
(x-posted on twistedshorts and on AO3)
twistedshorts."Mundane, she says," Deckard muttered, shaking his head in disgust.
Title: Business As Usual, I Suppose
Author: Jedi Buttercup
Disclaimer: The words are mine; the worlds are not.
Rating: T/PG-13
Spoilers: Post-movie tag for Hobbs & Shaw; very post-series for B:tVS
Notes: Inspired by all the internet jokes about Jason Statham and Vanessa Kirby playing supposedly-close-in-age siblings... and some of the movie's other leaps of logic (and physics). I actually wrote this part before "Navigating the Fallout", then went back to add that bit to connect the dots a little more. :)
Summary: "Mundane, she says," Deckard muttered, shaking his head in disgust.
"Hey." Deckard Shaw set his hand on his sister's arm as they caught a moment's peace amid the post-battle celebrations. They all knew the win had only been temporary, even the big lunkhead and his family; but immediate disaster had been averted, and that was enough for now. It had been a lot closer than he would like, though. "How are you, really?"
Hattie let him turn her hand over, exposing the three already healing marks from the injection machine and the fresher, bandaged wound from the device that had sucked the programmable virus back out of her bloodstream. "Sore. Grateful to be facing another day. Business as usual, I suppose."
He gave her a dirty look. "Be serious, Hattie. We were right up to the deadline on this one. What if some of those capsules decayed a little early? Or if that fancy machine didn't quite get them all? This is bullshit science as it is; even if the Professor was on the up-and-up, I don't trust Eteon as far as I could throw Brixton."
"Which is to say, not at all." She gave him a wry, affectionate smile, then squeezed his hand briefly before letting go. "Don't worry, Deck. As soon as I leave here, I'll be paying a visit to my other superiors to let them know this is still a mundane issue-- if only just. I'll have the coven check me over while I'm there; and if there is anything left over, my healing factor should take care of it anyway. I'll be fine."
"Mundane, she says," he muttered, shaking his head in disgust. "Supermen and super-viruses and bloody Hobbs arm-wrestling a helicopter. Did you get a load of that bullshit? I blew that man through the window of the DSS office once, and he walked away from it with only a few broken bones. If we hadn't just met his family, I'd be asking you if you were sure he was entirely human."
"I was in fact in the chopper at the time, so no, I had other concerns than what exactly your new best friend was up to," she said, dryly. "But even if he does have a little something extra, I'd be careful what stones I threw, anyway. Or have you forgotten already what I told you about Slayer bloodlines?"
Deckard wrinkled his nose at the reminder. Between his mother's less than legal career and his own adventures under the flag of their country in special operations, he'd seen enough to believe the supernatural was real when it had upended his sister's life a decade and a half ago-- but he'd been less than impressed with the organization that had come into his sister's life as a result, claiming that she had a destiny to fight it. Even accounting for the fact that a lot of their records and most of their leadership had been destroyed not long before they'd found Hattie, they'd had way too few answers for the amount of questions that needed asking. But they'd slowly started filling in some of those answers since, including the fact that many of their 'Slayers' were actually born to traceable bloodlines with nonhuman lineage somewhere back in the family tree.
Which only went to show that some people were willing to get a leg over anything. Well, there was no accounting for taste. Take Hobbs, for example.
"Why did you have to be the one to get all the magic bullshit abilities, then?" he complained, relaxing enough to smile back at her. "Another few years, and people aren't going to believe any of my stories about us growing up together any more. Try telling Hobbs you're actually the middle child; he'll never believe you. When are you finally going to start aging again, anyway?"
Hattie rolled her eyes. "I am aging; it's just the healing factor, they think. One of these days, all the damage'll finally catch up to me. But until then, at least I look pretty doing it." She struck a pose against the lush backdrop of the Samoan scenery, smirking at him.
"If you're fishing for compliments, your ego's swelled enough already," he scoffed. "About the Council, though. Since you brought them up. I'm assuming it was their contacts you were using to get clear of Brixton's trap, before you ran into Hobbs. But why didn't they send any of their heavy-hitters to help?"
"Spy business is spy business; supernatural business is theirs," she shrugged. "If they tried to interfere in every high-tech heist and terrorist plot they'd never get anything else done, and believe me, what they do is important. I told them to stay back until the virus issue was resolved, one way or another; if it had gone wide, they'd have got involved, but until then, it was a day job problem, not a night job problem."
That didn't reassure Deckard much; he was of the opinion that they should have sent her backup anyway.
Then again, she was thoroughly formidable on her own. Only Hobbs, and Brixton himself, had given her any real trouble. "Yeah, yeah, you're a self-rescuing princess, I get it," he sighed. "I retract the question. Just one more thing, though, if you're leaving again already."
"Yeah?" Her expression softened, much more reminiscent of the close relationship they'd had before Eteon and Brixton and the betrayal that had sent him down a dark path. He'd missed her; and it seemed she'd missed him, too. Their family would never entirely be what it once was-- not after everything that had happened with Owen-- but at least they had each other back, now.
"I kind of promised Mum we'd go see her-- together," he said. Well, more or less.
Hattie's smile bloomed wide. "Is that why she's still inside? Waiting for us to kiss and make up? I'd wondered."
"Yeah, well." Deckard shrugged. "There was some mention of a cake, as well."
"Of course there was," she laughed, delighted. "Alright, Deck; you have a deal."
(x-posted on twistedshorts and on AO3)
