The Institute, New York, Tuesday

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle had been away from Idris for almost a month. Not by choice, of course, but because of duties in New York. Specifically, her mother had had to spend a little more time in Alicante.

Which had left Isabelle in charge of the Institute.

Not for the whole month, of course. Just a couple of days at a time, five in a row at most. But, still. It was a responsibility which Isabelle took very seriously, which meant that even when Maryse had been back in New York and in charge, Isabelle had stayed at the Institute, helping her mother and updating her on everything that had been going on. Not to mention learning things for her next bout of temporary leadership.

And to make up for her absence in Idris, Isabelle had of course sent Flick some letters. But, to really make up for it, she'd also made sure to send his phone a whole lot of alluring selfies - from the casually adorable to the downright dirty - knowing full well that he wouldn't see them until he made it out of Idris and to somewhere where mundie tech worked, at which point they would flood to his phone all at once. That was the point, see. To make him want to see her as soon as he saw all those photos that had accumulated over the past few weeks.

Except, there was a slight problem.

Okay, two.

One, Isabelle had no idea when Flick was going to get to come back to New York next.

Two, her version of New York was experiencing a truly outrageous heatwave that was testing even Isabelle's angel-given ability to withstand rough conditions. So she'd been feeling pretty gross for the past couple of days. The AC at their apartment had broken down this past weekend and no amount of threatening phonecalls seemed to be getting it fixed any quicker, while the Institute was starting to get uncomfortably warm as well. So as Isabelle sat behind her mother's desk at the Institute right now, hot selfies were the farthest thing from her mind. Instead, she was trying to find whether she needed anyone's official authorisation to cajole Magnus or another warlock into cooling the building down through supernatural means.

That was how bad this was getting.

[ooc: NFB, but open! This is me dealing with my own weather issues, omg.]

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[flickofthewrist]

Isabelle had sent him so many things over the past while that his phone was giving him warnings when he finally turned it back on. As soon as he started seeing the pictures and the texts, he was heading back to New York.

It was hot. It was really damn hot. When he got to the apartment, it was still freaking hot and there was no sign of Isabelle.

So, he sent her a text to figure out where the hell she was. He can guess the Institute or a hotel since it appears like their air conditioning isn't working and no one's come out to fix it yet.

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle was not proud of the way she was half slumping against her mother's desk when the text came in. It was just that for a second, it had seemed like it was cooler than everything else around her.

She picked up her phone, and wished she could've felt more thrilled that he was within mobile communication's reach again. But the heat was kind of muddying her joy.

I'm at the Institute, she sent back.

[flickofthewrist]

Why?

It's not that he expected her to stay in a place where it was hot and gross but he'd have thought she'd go to a hotel and live in the lap of luxury for awhile.

[seveninchmotto]

Because I'm kinda the head of the Institute. So it's kind of my job to be here.

Why she hadn't gotten a hotel room to at least sleep in... That, she would have to blame on her brain feeling like it was going to leak out of her ears.

Also, she would've liked to have made that 'head of the Institute' declaration in a grander fashion, but that was also down to the heat. Oh well.

It's hot here too.

[flickofthewrist]

Wait, what?

You were Head of the Institute? And you'd told him over text? And he had nothing to celebrate with it?

Don't go anywhere, I'm on my way.

After he picked up a few things.

[seveninchmotto]

Don't worry, I wasn't going anywhere. Moving just makes me more sweaty.

And she didn't mind sweat, but this was not the way she wanted it to happen.

She sent the text off, then slumped back down with her cheek against the surface of the desk.

[flickofthewrist]

It didn't take too long for Flick to show up. He'd gotten flowers and wine which is the best he could do on short notice and after a little bit of arguing, they'd let him into the Institute and directed towards Isabelle's office.

He knocked on the closed door and tried not to let the heat get to him.

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle had managed to peel herself off the desk again, and was thumbing through some official papers. Possibly to do with the warlock idea she'd had earlier. But she'd never tell.

"Yes?" she called out, since while she was hoping it was Flick, it could've also been just about anyone at the Institute. People wanted to talk to you when you were in charge. "Come in."

By the Angel, she hoped she looked more than halfway presentable.

[flickofthewrist]

Flick smoothed his hair down and then stepped inside, holding the bouquet of roses and the wine. He smiled at her and then laughed at the sight she made.

"Why is it so hot here? Do Shadowhunters not believe in fans?"

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle would've liked for him to have first seen her behind her mother's desk looking regal and in charge. But guess 'sweaty and slightly disheveled' would have to do. Obviously, she still looked better than a lot of other people would have, under the same circumstances.

Isballe Lightwood, 'pure at heart, it repels the dirt', and all that.

"They're all elsewhere," she said, making a face. She was slow to rise from her chair, but rise she did. "I figured the people training could use more of a cooldown than me."

[flickofthewrist]

"God, it's horrible in here," Flick said, wincing. He was worried that his freaking flowers were going to wilt. "How did this happen? Who do Shadowhunters even call to fix their air conditioners? You have Shadowhunters that specialize in HVAC stuff?"

[seveninchmotto]

"This is the Institute, it's never had air conditioning," Isabelle replied, wrinkling her nose. "It's doesn't have a whole lot of tech." Not in this universe, anyway!

She finally crossed the room to get to him. "Whenever it got this way when I was a kid, I would just make myself scarce. Can't really do that right now." Because, duty. She stopped in front of him, and cocked her head. "Aww, you brought me flowers?"

And not tulips, this time!

[flickofthewrist]

"I did but I'm not gonna leave them there because they'll die," Flick says, making a face. "Why are you here?"

Besides the whole promotion thing.

"And why didn't you get word to me sooner about this? This is a big deal, Isabelle! I would have been here."

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle shrugged, reaching for the flowers. Even if this was a terrible environment for them, she still wanted to hold them for a second.

"This is still weird for me," she said. "So it felt weird to put it in a letter."

[flickofthewrist]

"Can we please go somewhere cooler and you can tell me about it?" Flick requested. "I'm going to start sweating and not in the good way."

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle snorted, then cast a glance back towards the desk, and the piles of papers. "Sure, I guess," she decided, after a beat. "But you're going to have to be in charge of figuring out a place, baby."

Because he'd been somewhere where the weather wasn't trying to kill them more recently than she had. So she expected him to have more brain power.

Since she hadn't even figured out the hotel thing on her own.

[flickofthewrist]

"Well, let's start with going to get some food and then we can go from there," Flick decides, giving his bottle of wine a little wave before holding out a hand for her.

"Come on, I'm starving," he tells her.

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle only hesitated before taking his hand because skin-to-skin contact sounded like a sweaty and uncomfortable thing.

But she also hadn't seen him in closer to a month. So she took his hand, holding the roses with her other one. "Hopefully I'll be, too, once I'm somewhere air conditioned."

[flickofthewrist]

"You guys need to look into installing an air conditioner," Flick told her, giving her hand a squeeze and leading her out. He ignored any looks he was getting for taking their boss away from them.

"It's horrible in here," he said. "I wouldn't be able to work."

[seveninchmotto]

He was getting a few looks. Although some of them may have been of approval, too.

"That just means you're not a true Shadowhunter yet," Isabelle told him, although she was teasing. A little tiredly. "Or just not as stubborn as me."

[flickofthewrist]

"You could get sick if you work this way for long," he says, pulling her out into the daylight. It's still hot but not as stuffy. "Why are you torturing yourself? It's gross in there."

[seveninchmotto]

"It's also where all the work is," Isabelle pointed out. It had turned out over the last couple of weeks that her sense of duty wasn't limited to that of the 'blood and sacrifice' type. "But you're right, we should at least get a fan or something."

[flickofthewrist]

"You're not going to be able to work if you're passed out from heat exhaustion," Flick points out, shaking his head. "You're not invincible."

As soon as he comes up upon a diner, he pulls her in and the air conditioning immediately hits them when he steps in. Ah, better.

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle wouldn't have been ashamed to admit that she actually paused in the doorway. Full-on closed her eyes and gave a pleased little sigh, and everything.

Look, okay, maybe she'd missed being in places that actually felt habitable instead of like a demon realm had broken through with all its hellish qualities.

[flickofthewrist]

"Wow, you guys really need a damned air conditioner," Flick said, tugging her towards the counter. "And why haven't you called the landlord about the one in our apartment?"