Author's Note: This is my first venture into Holly Black's universe of Tithe, Ironside, and modern faerie tales.
First off, this is your official fluff warning. Written for a writer's group on livejournal, this fic is random and for no reason and does not benefit the stories at all. I just want to play with Roiben and Kaye. They're cool.
Official disclaimer: I do not own Holly Black's characters or any of her universe. I certainly do not own New Jersey, either. Mwahaha.
The New Jersey skyline twinkled overhead, the serenity only interrupted by the constant noise emitted from thousands of mouths, cars and animals occupying the city. Those weren't the only interruption.
"Kaye, what are you doing?"
A green winged girl flew over the brackish water of the harbor in lazy circles. She had just found some brightly colored jewelry floating along the banks. She claimed her tacky prize joyously.
Her wild tangle of blondish-green hair whirled around her head as she landed on her consort, knocking him to the ground in a slightly undignified heap.
He shifted her around to a slightly more comfortable position, chiding her playfully, "Must I jog your memory or can you remember on your own not to embarrass the King of both Courts. Please?"
The green fairy gazed into the silver fairy's eyes a moment before giving him a kiss on his lips. "I win."
"I hate that it actually works most of the time, too," he mumbled.
"And without using your ridiculous name!"
The Faerie King wore a scowl but with a laugh in his eyes. "That is an insult to our royal person, and we shall leave thee to thy misery."
Kaye giggled at the formality, grabbing his hand and jumping up. "I hear that ice cream heals all wounds."
"It's a mythical Ironside cure, little one," he smirked, remembering a few late and moody nights. Standing full height, he was much taller than the bouncing pixie before him. "It can't possibly heal the ache you've caused the King of Faerie!"
His protests would guide them no where save for the brightly lit ice cream store, mysteriously still open late at night. In their glamours, they were still two very beautiful people, and the shopkeeper couldn't help but to remember days of being young and in love. Exactly to his predictions, the girl ordered a large cup and two spoons. It wouldn't hurt if he gave them some extra whip cream, too.
Outside on a bench below a streetlamp, Kaye and Roiben set to devouring the concoction of dairy and sugar. It had taken many months and many bowls of ice cream for him to grow accustomed to the faint tastes of chemicals Kaye seemed to be used to, but no matter. All for love.
A bus or two drove by as they sat in the glow of the city light. Roiben pulled her close and then –
"Damn," Kaye fumbled for her pockets, producing a tattered excuse for a phone. "It's my sister."