I wrote this little drabble for Sabrina's birthday today! Happy birthday, love. Hope you enjoy! Many thanks to Adria, because without her editing, this wouldn't be nearly as good. I love you darling!

"B6?"

"Hit… G9?

"Miss! B7?"

"Damnit, love, you sunk my last battleship!" Jem rolled over onto his back on the layers of blankets and threw his arm over his eyes dramatically. Tessa whooped and thrust her fist victoriously in the air as a booming clap of thunder shook their apartment. The flames of the candles flickered. Jem sighed. "You're too good at this game."

She shrugged nonchalantly. "I've had over 40 years of practice."

A late summer thunderstorm had popped up over New York City, baffling the local weathermen. Most of the homes throughout the city had somehow managed to keep their power through the violent lightning and thunder and downpour of rain. A few of the townhomes and apartments with poorer wiring hadn't fared so well.

Including Jem and Tessa's.

They'd dug through cupboards and pulled out all the candles they could find (including the witchlight they kept in the drawer of their nightstand). Then they had gathered their softest and fluffiest blankets and pillows to create a cozy space on the floor of the living room. In one of the rarely used cupboards of their apartment, Tessa had found the original 1967 version of the Battleship game she'd bought when it was brand new. She'd challenged Jem to a night of hits and misses.

As the storm raged on through the darkening skies of the evening, Tessa remained the reigning champion, eight games to none.

Tessa shoved the plastic game cases aside—rattling the red and white pegs and plastic ships—and crawled toward Jem. She looked down onto his face, his eyes still covered and a small smile upon his bow-shaped lips. Her breath caressed his forehead, lightly rustling his soft black hair.

Jem pulled his arm from his eyes, and deep black met gray. "What are you doing, Tessa?"

"Mm," she mumbled as her lips brushed his forehead, his scarred cheeks, his nose. "Collecting my prize." Tessa pressed her mouth to his, slow and soft and teasing. She pulled away and examined his sharp, unique features, beautifully highlighted in the glow of candle and witchlight. She was suddenly reminded of a night so very long ago—the night she'd first known the feel of Jem's lips against her own and how the candlelight had danced across his pale skin above her.

"I'd gladly lose every game if that is what you consider your prize," Jem muttered as he propped himself up on his elbows.

Tessa laughed. "Well, if you win the next game, you'll get to collect yours." She leaned in for another kiss just as a bolt of bright lightning lit up the living room. The following rumble of thunder cracked so loudly they felt it through the floor. The two jumped apart, startled.

Jem glanced around at their impromptu nest of blankets. "I think this storm's going to get worse before it gets better. And who knows how long it'll be until we have our electricity back. Maybe we should save the candles, just in case?" Jem leapt up off the floor with a Shadowhunter's grace. "We'll still have the witchlight, at least."

Tessa watched his lithe form as he moved around the room blowing out candles, his bare feet silent on the hard wood floors.

The room gradually darkened as each candle was extinguished until the only remaining light was the blue-white luminescent glow of the small witchlight in Jem's long fingers. Tessa wrapped one of the blankets around her shoulders and rested her head on a pillow as she watched him saunter back towards her in the near-darkness. Tessa's eyes began to droop as the patter of the rain against the window and the dim light relaxed her. Winning consistently was more exhausting than she thought.

"Comfortable?" Jem crouched next to her and brushed an errant curl away from her closed eyes.

She sighed in assent and opened up the edges of the blanket to him. "Join me." He smiled, curling into Tessa as she wrapped them both with the fleece like a protective cocoon from the raging storm outside. Thunder rumbled, sounding further away than before. She closed her eyes once again and nuzzled her head deeper into the pillow, her fingers slowly tracing old rune scars along his bare shoulder.

"We can't go to sleep yet, love. I still have to win a game and collect," Jem whispered against the smooth skin of her neck.

"Tomorrow… promise." Her voice was softer than a sigh, and Jem knew she was nearly asleep.

"Okay," he murmured back, pressing his lips to her cheek as he reached outside of the blanket towards their only source of light. "Goodnight, Tessa."

Jem's fingers closed over the witchlight, throwing them into darkness.

fin