The Cylinders and the Ratchets

"What do you suppose this is all about?"

"I'm not sure. Perhaps Henry needs our assistance."

The front legs of Will's chair hit the stone floor with a resounding crack. He leaned across the small table toward Jem. "If Charlotte thinks she can order us to be subjects in one of Henry's daft experiments, then it really is true what they say about childbearing driving women to madness. I don't care if she's with child. She could be carrying the reincarnation of Jonathon Shadowhunter himself, and it wouldn't make a blasted difference. I won't do it."

Jem's eyes were lit with amusement. "Do you think that's terribly likely? Charlotte and Henry's son an incarnation of Jonathon Shadowhunter? It would certainly explain the violent outbursts at the breakfast table."

"I suppose." Will leaned back, arms crossed and head inclined. "I have heard that old John, too, had a rather aggressive disposition toward overdone eggs."

"I was referring more to the fear Charlotte manages to strike into the hearts of everyone present."

"So that isn't just me, then?"

The door to the lab swung open and Charlotte—preceded by her ever-growing stomach—entered with Henry following more slowly in her wake. She looked pleased to see both Jem and Will present. Henry, on the other hand, looked quite nervous. He was red-faced and kept running a hand through his hair while staring at one of the walls.

"Jem. Will." Charlotte did not wait for them to return the greeting but launched headlong into what was clearly a prepared statement of disclosure. "Neither of you are the young boys you were when you first arrived at the Institute. You're young men now. Gentlemen, in fact, on most days." Her eyes slid unmistakably to Will, and if Jem weren't a gentleman every day, he might have grinned at his parabatai's expense. "Soon you will both be of age, and Jem is…" Her voice quivered, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. She held a hand out toward Henry, who absently placed a handkerchief in her palm while still staring at the wall in discomfiture. Gently, she dabbed the white square beneath her eyes. "And Jem is to be married in a month. He will be a husband. And there are…certain aspects of being a husband, of being a man at all, that perhaps have yet to be made explicit to you."

Will's eyes met Jem's across the table. Jem shrugged in response to Will's silent question.

"What I mean to say is,"—she cleared her throat as if the words were stuck there—"that there are certain physical aspects a man must consider should he engage intimately with a woman he has married or a woman he harbors…affection for. And Henry wants to tell you all about it." She rushed out the last part, catching her husband's sleeve and leading him forward to where the two younger men were seated.

The realization of what was about to happen set in, and the temperature in the room seemed to have risen. Jem's silver features colored with a shot of pink across his cheeks. He looked down at his cane propped against the table to avoid having to look at anyone else. Will, on the other hand, leaned back in his seat, his arms crossed and a grin on his face. "Oh, this should be interesting."

Henry stared wide-eyed at them for two long seconds and then whipped back around toward Charlotte, consulting her in low tones they couldn't make out.

Jem rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "I think I preferred the idea of being stuck with a needle and bleeding into one of those glass tubes."

"Nonsense. This is bound to be thoroughly educational. I have complete faith in Henry's ability to relay the finer points of 'intimately engaging' with a woman I 'harbor affection for.'"

"Don't be cruel."

"I assure you I'm quite capable of being gentle."

Jem rolled his eyes.

The sound of the door closing drew their attention back to Henry who was now standing alone. He glanced back and forth between them, tugged once more at his hair, and then shook his head. "Right." He cleared his throat, and strode purposely forward. "So as Charlotte said, I am here to resolve any questions you may have about, um—"

"Intimate engagement," Will offered.

"Yes, yes." Henry looked relieved. "About being intimately involved with a woman. It may not seem complicated, but it's best to be prepared."

Looking appropriately concerned, Will folded his hands on the table-top. "You know, I've always been more of a visual learner. Maybe it would be easier if you drew a diagram." He just managed to dodge the toe of Jem's boot, which had been aimed at his shin.

Henry's face pinched as he considered the request. "Well…I don't…" His eyes brightened. "I have just the thing."

Henry hurried over to one of the several waist-high tables that lined the room and began rummaging through the piles of clutter. As he searched, he muttered to himself. Jem and Will caught the words 'valve' and 'lubricant' and waited in varying degrees of suspense until Henry gave a cry of success and returned. He placed a ratchet and metal cylinder in front of them.

"This,"—Henry held up the hollow cylinder—"represents the woman. And this," he held of the ratchet—"represent the man."

Jem's eyebrows shot up. Will's grinned, quite entertained. "I already feel more enlightened."

"In a moment," Henry continued, "we will need my oil injector, but we shall begin with the basics…"

And for the next twenty minutes, Jem and Will listened to a very thorough introduction to 'intimate engagement.' This included a demonstration that encountered only one snag—the premature dispersion of the oil injector, which Henry reassured them was not an entirely false representation of reality. Beyond that there were a few puzzling references to pressure and steam engines and a cautionary tale about diseases (not all of them were as easy to avoid as demon pox). At the end, he asked if they had any questions.

Will raised his hand. "Is that model done to scale?"


AN: The prompt for this one came from angel-gidget over on tumblr. It was fabulous, and I had a lot of fun writing it. Until next time. :)