lady_flamewing: (explosives)
[personal profile] lady_flamewing
Fandom: Maximum Ride/DOGS
Pairing: Iggy/Nill
Rating: G
A/N: Sort of half-requested by [livejournal.com profile] suzu_no_hito and half written just for [livejournal.com profile] scythegasmic, even if she didn't ask for it. Set within the RP [livejournal.com profile] rivelata, during the hand-waved log where Iggy tries to teach Nill to cook.


Iggy blinks and runs a hand through his hair, feeling the flour sift out of it and - no doubt - drift to the floor in a diffuse white cloud, and he wonders how something so small can create such a huge mess.

He knows it started with a couple of eggs being dropped to the floor, making it slick and rather treacherous to cross - which probably wouldn't have been a huge problem, if he hadn't been blind and trying to cross the kitchen with an armful of ingredients. Because his feet had threatened to go out from under him - again, which probably wouldn't have been so bad, since he was already correcting: lurching forward to regain his balance, if Nill hadn't run forward to try and help.

She's small, but the collision was completely unexpected - he hadn't heard her footsteps, they were so light and he was so preoccupied with trying not to fall over - and it had sent him reeling backward and twisting his body, trying to avoid falling on her, or something, because that probably would have been really bad.

He'd also reached out for her, when he'd heard her wings fluttering frantically, trying to pull her down on top of him to cushion her fall, and he might have arbitrarily flung the things in his arms away to free his hands.

And apparently, sometime during all of this, he'd snapped his wings open in one last attempt to regain his balance, and one of them had connected with the bag of flour with enough force to explode it open.

All of which adds up to the situation they're in right now - climbing off the floor, covered in a fine dusting of flour, some of which is congealing into a paste as it mixes with the egg residue which has smeared itself all over the backs of Iggy's wings. That's going to be a pain to wash off, especially with no one left who knows the finer points of wing maintenance.

But then there is the lightest touch on his wrist, and he turns his palm up automatically, letting small fingers brush the flour away and trace delicately, "O-O-P-S".

And he can't help but laugh.

Date: 2010-02-04 06:42 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] moonface.livejournal.com
;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;

baw thats so cute ;;;

Date: 2010-02-04 06:59 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lady-flamewing.livejournal.com
It's like...the latest Christmas present EVER, but I had to write it.

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June 2012

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