Amihan (ə-'mi-hən) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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greenstickered2013-01-02 05:15 pm
camalyng) wrote in greenstickered2013-01-02 05:15 pm
Uncharted: A Girl's Best Friend
Title: A Girl's Best Friend
What: Uncharted fanfiction - oneshot
Rating: G
Words: ~800
Summary: No one really knows what kind of jewelry to get Chloe.
Alternate links: Tumblr rebloggable link here with the tags and photo that inspired it; Archive of Our Own
Notes: Inspired by![[tumblr.com profile]](https://www.tumblr.com/favicon.ico)
desiderates's tags for corcc's photo. Also, can I just say how long I've held this headcanon that Harry and Chloe bought their necklaces together? Because I've held it for a really long time and was disappointed to finally realize that actually, she had the red beads back in the comic.
"Earrings?"
Nate nods, and starts earnestly telling you about the tools used and the cultural significance of the material choices and what period and civilization they're from. It's sounding an awful lot like the staff the two of you had picked up the other day. You'd thought you'd seen Nate pocketing something in that ruin, but you hadn't been sure.
"I had them cleaned up and put in new fixtures, so you don't need to worry about tetanus shots or anything," he finishes, looking far too pleased with himself, and there's nothing to do but smile, really.
"Nate, my ears aren't pierced."
Bewilderment is bizarrely cute on him. He brushes your hair back behind your ear and looks dismayed.
"Oh, crap."
You laugh, patting his cheek. Honestly, they aren't really your style even if you could wear them.
"I'll find clip ons for them," you console him.
(Realizing you never wear clip ons either, he attaches both earrings to short chains so that you have two necklaces instead. You leave one in a hotel room by accident, and when Nate walks out on you, you shove the other one into a suitcase, unable to look at it but just as unable to leave it behind.)
(It turns up again the night that Harry suggests inviting an old friend of his to your Turkey heist. How fitting.)
"It's a bit like the one you've got on now."
Your hand goes to the necklace in question as you eye the triple string of green beads Harry's pointing out.
"Except these are wood," you point out, "and those are glass."
"And that's why these are prettier."
"More expensive, too," you add, privately agreeing with him, but he gestures for the necklace and holds it up to your throat.
For a moment, it's like he forgets how to speak.
"Good with your eyes," says the vendor, breaking the silence. "Make them look greener."
He names his price. You shake your head, but Harry haggles him down to something that sounds a little more reasonable but still more than you really want him spending on you.
"You didn't have to do that," you tell him, as you remove your necklace and let him replace it with the new one.
"I wanted to," he replies. "Why shouldn't we have a little fun while we don't have Lazarevic breathing down our necks?"
"Then get something for yourself too. Why should I have all the fun?"
From another vendor he buys a string of wooden beads with intricately carved silver interspersed. He kisses you when you fasten it around his neck.
(You don't wear the new necklace when the two of you finally approach Nate, suspecting he'll respond better to what you were wearing when you first met than to the uncomfortably fond looks Harry shoots you when you wear the one he bought you.)
(With everything that goes down, you end up forgetting about the necklace entirely until you're doing a full repack of your suitcase months later and cut your hand on tiny green shards at the bottom.)
"You're not proposing, are you?"
Charlie chokes on his tea.
"I see your plan now," you continue, because your actual concern is far outclassed by your amusement at his reaction. "Sneak the ring onto my lunch tray when I'm too sick to get out of bed, let alone run away."
Reaching forward to pat him on the head is still more of an effort than it should be. You hate the flu.
"Nice try, but it's still a no."
"No," he's finally able to splutter. "Jesus Christ, Chloe! I just saw it at the markets this morning and thought it might cheer you up."
Honestly, it's the look on his face that cheers you up more than the actual ring, which is costume jewelry and not really your thing. You enjoy his coughing as you try it on your ring finger, but it's far too loose, and you move it onto your pointer finger instead.
"Thank you," you tell him, twisting it on your finger.
He smiles and sets down his tea on the side table before coming in closer. Recognizing the look on his face, you hold up a hand.
"Disease," you remind him.
Without missing a beat he lifts your hand and kisses it. You shake your head at him, but you can't keep the smile off of your face.
(You mostly only wear it when you expect to see him. When he notices months later that the silver plating's wearing off, he replaces it with a stainless steel ring, a little closer in style to what you wear but still not quite there.
("Rings are more Nate's thing than mine," you point out.)
(The next day, your necklaces aren't precisely where you left them, and the ring's on a cord.)
What: Uncharted fanfiction - oneshot
Rating: G
Words: ~800
Summary: No one really knows what kind of jewelry to get Chloe.
Alternate links: Tumblr rebloggable link here with the tags and photo that inspired it; Archive of Our Own
Notes: Inspired by
"Earrings?"
Nate nods, and starts earnestly telling you about the tools used and the cultural significance of the material choices and what period and civilization they're from. It's sounding an awful lot like the staff the two of you had picked up the other day. You'd thought you'd seen Nate pocketing something in that ruin, but you hadn't been sure.
"I had them cleaned up and put in new fixtures, so you don't need to worry about tetanus shots or anything," he finishes, looking far too pleased with himself, and there's nothing to do but smile, really.
"Nate, my ears aren't pierced."
Bewilderment is bizarrely cute on him. He brushes your hair back behind your ear and looks dismayed.
"Oh, crap."
You laugh, patting his cheek. Honestly, they aren't really your style even if you could wear them.
"I'll find clip ons for them," you console him.
(Realizing you never wear clip ons either, he attaches both earrings to short chains so that you have two necklaces instead. You leave one in a hotel room by accident, and when Nate walks out on you, you shove the other one into a suitcase, unable to look at it but just as unable to leave it behind.)
(It turns up again the night that Harry suggests inviting an old friend of his to your Turkey heist. How fitting.)
"It's a bit like the one you've got on now."
Your hand goes to the necklace in question as you eye the triple string of green beads Harry's pointing out.
"Except these are wood," you point out, "and those are glass."
"And that's why these are prettier."
"More expensive, too," you add, privately agreeing with him, but he gestures for the necklace and holds it up to your throat.
For a moment, it's like he forgets how to speak.
"Good with your eyes," says the vendor, breaking the silence. "Make them look greener."
He names his price. You shake your head, but Harry haggles him down to something that sounds a little more reasonable but still more than you really want him spending on you.
"You didn't have to do that," you tell him, as you remove your necklace and let him replace it with the new one.
"I wanted to," he replies. "Why shouldn't we have a little fun while we don't have Lazarevic breathing down our necks?"
"Then get something for yourself too. Why should I have all the fun?"
From another vendor he buys a string of wooden beads with intricately carved silver interspersed. He kisses you when you fasten it around his neck.
(You don't wear the new necklace when the two of you finally approach Nate, suspecting he'll respond better to what you were wearing when you first met than to the uncomfortably fond looks Harry shoots you when you wear the one he bought you.)
(With everything that goes down, you end up forgetting about the necklace entirely until you're doing a full repack of your suitcase months later and cut your hand on tiny green shards at the bottom.)
"You're not proposing, are you?"
Charlie chokes on his tea.
"I see your plan now," you continue, because your actual concern is far outclassed by your amusement at his reaction. "Sneak the ring onto my lunch tray when I'm too sick to get out of bed, let alone run away."
Reaching forward to pat him on the head is still more of an effort than it should be. You hate the flu.
"Nice try, but it's still a no."
"No," he's finally able to splutter. "Jesus Christ, Chloe! I just saw it at the markets this morning and thought it might cheer you up."
Honestly, it's the look on his face that cheers you up more than the actual ring, which is costume jewelry and not really your thing. You enjoy his coughing as you try it on your ring finger, but it's far too loose, and you move it onto your pointer finger instead.
"Thank you," you tell him, twisting it on your finger.
He smiles and sets down his tea on the side table before coming in closer. Recognizing the look on his face, you hold up a hand.
"Disease," you remind him.
Without missing a beat he lifts your hand and kisses it. You shake your head at him, but you can't keep the smile off of your face.
(You mostly only wear it when you expect to see him. When he notices months later that the silver plating's wearing off, he replaces it with a stainless steel ring, a little closer in style to what you wear but still not quite there.
("Rings are more Nate's thing than mine," you point out.)
(The next day, your necklaces aren't precisely where you left them, and the ring's on a cord.)
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