Fic: 'The Old Apartment' (Power Rangers Mystic Force, Xander/Madison, PG, 1/1) Title: The Old Apartment Fandom: Mighty Capin' Justice Magicians Characters: Xander/Madison Word Count: 410 Rating: PG Spoilers: N/A Challenge: Leap for Prompts (19/29): Power Rangers Mystic Force, Xander/Madison Disclaimer: No one mentioned belongs to me. Summary: Madison returns home after a long day at work.
The Old Apartment
Six months after Madison had unofficially adopted Xander as her roommate (and live-in boyfriend), he still hadn't managed to master the concept of the laundry hamper, but there was always water boiling on the stove for tea when she woke up. She didn't know how he could manage to be awake every morning, showered, dressed, and fixing breakfast by the time she dared to crawl out of bed, but he always managed it with a smile.
And Madison was endlessly grateful for his support. The main focus of her freakouts and periodic pity-parties had shifted from That Break-Up with That Boy to the simultaneous awesomeness and soul-crushing madness of her job over at NBC.
She stumbled home wearily one evening, vision blurring from hours spent in front of a monitor, editing footage. "Have you eaten?" asked Xander, coming out of the kitchen, dusting off his hands. "There'll be chicken in a few minutes if you haven't."
Madison abandoned her own rules and dumped her handbag on the floor unceremoniously. "Chicken, I love chicken," she murmured to no one in particular as she sank onto the couch. She grabbed one of the throw pillows and dragged it over her face.
"Long day?" Xander's voice carried over her, and though the pillow brought down the volume somewhat, it couldn't mute the sympathy.
"Exhausting day," she moaned.
Xander gently pulled the pillow off her face. One of her hands lifted from her lap and reached for it unconsciously, half-heartedly. "No sulking," he said.
"I'm not sulking. I'm resting."
"Anything I can do to lift your spirits?" asked Xander teasingly, plopping next to her and wrapping his arms around her.
Madison murmured into his shoulder. "Maybe. I don't know. I'm too tired. You think of something."
"I can think of a few things." He kissed her forehead, her cheek, her jaw, before finally finding his way to her mouth. Madison murmured as his tongue slipped past her lips, but what should have been many happy, relaxing moments passed quickly, and she pulled back. "Xander."
"What," he said lazily, with the heavy-lidded, hazy grin of someone getting ready for things to get interesting.
"Xander, the chicken."
"The what?"
"The chicken," she repeated, the pungent smell flooding into the living room, the timer echoing tinnily elsewhere.
"Damn." He jumped to his feet and headed off, but not before leaning back and asking, "later?"