InsaneJournal

Who: Fred Weasley and Nina Zenik
Where: The beach, at least at first
When: Jan 24, late morning
What: Meeting and talking, and maybe discovering buried treasure
Rating: PG-13?
Status: In progress, closed
Warnings: Thoughts re: character death(s), TBD



Life on the TARDIS was... an adjustment. Fred hadn't notice the extent to which he had developed a routine, back home. Even though the war had forced some changes on everyone, certain things had remained the same: the time at which Fred woke, what he had for breakfast, his morning workout, how he'd start his day in the shop, what time he'd start working on new merchandise, always in lockstep with George. Now... well. He and George had always been different people, but they'd always been compatible, able to follow each others' train of thought with a glance, able to complete each other's unfinished ideas, two peas in a pod, each there to make the other better - to make the other make sense.

Now... George was a dad and Fred was dead.

So.

It was adjustment.

The TARDIS, Fred could tell, was doing its best to make the transition as easy as possible: almost as soon as he'd arrived, the shop had as well -- for what it was worth on a space ship. It was clearly not for anyone's benefit but their own. And yet, somehow, its presence here made the situation that much more uncanny, as though by adding the most obvious similarities between here and home, it magnified all that was different.

He couldn't get over the dad thing. Or the dead thing either, for that matter.

Anyway.

They'd landed somewhere and Fred decided to take the opportunity to stretch his legs and give his brother and nephew (nephew!) some time alone.

The TARDIS, bless it, had thoughtfully provided a tube of something called sun cream. Fred had had to read it to understand what it was meant to do, applied a thick layer to one arm, and gotten bored, tossing the tube towards the bed and casting a sun protection charm on himself in nearly the same movement.

The sun assaulted him the moment he stepped through the doors and onto the sand. This wasn't something they experienced often in England, and it took him a moment or two to adjust, first to the brightness, and then to the heat. He picked a direction and walked. Before long, he decided that he was overdressed and undersunhatted, and resolved to fix both once he got to the water, sparkling in the distance.

When he arrived, Fred found the beach occupied by one single girl, sitting in the surf.

"This seat taken?"