Title: You are the best thing
Characters/Pairings: Daniel/Charlotte
Summary: Total AU. "So much for cooking a romantic dinner, yeah?"
Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: Written for the Lost Ficlet Challenge '09 on Livejournal, using the prompts blackout and bundle. Title from Ray LaMontagne.
----
"Bollocks."
Charlotte heaved her shoulder against the breaker panel cover and bodily slammed it shut, cursing the grinding noise of rusted metal on metal and making a mental note to cuss out the landlord first thing on Monday morning. She turned back towards the door, her flashlight cutting a beacon through the pitch-black, bouncing a little as she stumbled through the cluttered basement and up the stairs.
It was unseasonably warm for summer in Oxford, the air crawling thick and sluggish through the darkened hallways. Wiping one hand across her forehead -- and grimacing at the sheen of sweat there -- Charlotte clamoured into her flat, now strangely empty.
"Dan!"
Silence.
She moved through the sitting room -- past the lumpy floral sofa they'd managed to salvage from a friend of a friend, the pile of dusty excavation tools in the corner, scattered research papers and physics text all bearing Daniel's signature scribbling -- in search of candles. The flashlight flickered its dying warning; Charlotte jostled the batteries with a groan and pulled open a desk drawer. "Daniel?"
"Uh, hey! I'm out here!"
He poked his head in the window leading to the fire escape, greeting her with a little wave.
"The whole building's out," she called to him. "I couldn't do a damn thing with the breaker panel -- probably faulty wiring or something. Honestly, if this place weren't two blocks from campus and so damn cheap ..." Charlotte paused, fumbling through the protractor kits and one of last semester's course packs. "So much for cooking a romantic dinner, yeah?"
She emerged, triumphant, a few moments later with a hurricane candle and packet of matches, abandoning the ever-dimming flashlight. Snapping one alight in a flash of sulfur and pressing it to the wick, Charlotte threw a longing glance at the kitchen, where the beginnings of a three-course meal -- in celebration of their two-year anniversary -- lay sweltering in the powered-off fridge. Her boyfriend, meanwhile, was still mysteriously absent.
"What are you doing out there, Dan?"
There was a clatter of noise in response.
"I ... um, just give me a second."
Tossing the matches back in the drawer, Charlotte moved slowly across the flat, bumping her shin against the wayward coffeetable anyway. She finally found purchase at the windowsill; the breeze felt glorious on her skin as she crawled out, making a careful show of balancing the candle while she scooted across the ledge.
And then stopped.
A bundle of never-used blankets -- Charlotte recognized them from their usual place at the back of the linen closet -- had been spread out across the black metal of the fire escape, along with pillows and cartons of Indian takeaway and a bottle of red. The city hummed and glowed in the distance, people bustling through the streets below.
Daniel gave her a little smile, spreading his hands apart and upward; an almost self-deprecating gesture.
"Ta-da."
Eyes wide, Charlotte took in the scene with amazement.
"Dan! This is incredible! How did you manage --"
He ducked his head, pleased, running a hand through his dark hair.
"The, uh, place around the corner," he recounted, hands flying. "I called as soon as the power went out."
Still eyeing the display, Charlotte lowered her candle and stepped to Daniel's side, pulling him closer for a brief kiss -- "thank you," she murmured against his lips -- before settling down on the blankets. Dan moved to join her, handing her a glass of wine and raising his own in the beginnings of a toast. He paused, thoughtful.
"To ... crappy student housing."
Charlotte laughed, leaning back against the cool metal of the railings. Looked at Dan, grinning down at his wine, and grabbed his hand, their fingers tangled together.
"To blackouts."