InsaneJournal

we'll save this earth into jars;
“Good evening, Athena.”

Athena had locked that door. She knew she'd locked that door. But there he was, hands folded behind his back, hair slicked down, face grim. She got up hastily from the oils and herbs she'd been poring over for the past week, the clues and spells she'd been desperately searching in for some reversal. He shifted lazily from foot to foot, but she could see the line of tension in his shoulders.

“What are you doing here?” she asked sharply. She was nowhere near his height, but had learned in their years together that she needed to cut an imposing figure. Imposing, but not defiant.

“That seems to me a stupid question.”

Athena set her bony hands on her hips. “I have this under control.”

“I told you, Athena.” The t clicked on his tongue; her name sounded uncomfortable in his mouth, the way it had when she had first met him. “It will not work until all of our—how do you say? Ducks are in line.”

“In a row,” she said flatly.

He shrugged. “It is the same matter.” A brief pause, and though his face never changed, he looked as calm as he had a moment ago, his voice hardened. “Fix it.”

“I've been trying.”

“You should not have tried anything to begin with.”

It was an effort to keep her hands still. “If we let them rest any longer, they'll adhere to their hosts. Permanently. I have to keep try—”

He lifted a hand. “Fix it,” he said again, and turning on one large heel, left as calmly and coolly as he had come.