seveninchmotto | The Institute, New York, Tuesday

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The Institute, New York, Tuesday

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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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?"

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."

"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?"

"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!

"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."

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."

"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."

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.

"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.

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."

"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."

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."

"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."

"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."

"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.

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.

"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?"

"Who do you think you're talking to?" Isabelle asked, one eyebrow raised. "Of course I've called the landlord. Repeatedly." Something about her tone also suggested she might have been getting progressively less nice about it with each call. "He keeps making excuses."

Which was pretty brave of him, all things considered.

"Really? All that fucking money we pay him and he's making excuses?" Flick asked, frowning. He nodded at the menu so she could order whatever she wanted. "I'll pay him a visit before we check into the hotel."

Because he was not saying there to celebrate with her.

"And let him cut into our precious time together?" Isabelle retorted as she took the menu and began to look it over. She wanted a milkshake, for sure, and she wanted it as cold as possible. "I don't know."

"We're paying rent for a reason. He needs to fix the air conditioner and I'm going to tell him that and then we'll go," Flick tells her. "I'm not leaving without doing that."

"Well, if you think you can get it through to him better than I have..."

He was free to try! Isabelle hadn't yet spoken to the manager in person ~~because it had always been a manager instead of a landlord, and no one definitely forgot anything about their characters' living situation~~ so maybe he would actually succeed.

"It'd make you my hero."

"If it doesn't work, we'll buy a new one and I'll have someone install it while you stay in a hotel," Flick promised, nodding. "You can't live and work in a place that's going to make you sick. I don't want to hear about Shadowhunter training. That's not safe."

"Okay, baby," Isabelle replied, smiling at him. She even reached out across the table and patted his hand. "Okay. Thank you."

No, really.

There hadn't been anyone attempting to take care of her over the last while.

Flick nodded and then ordered something for himself before finding them a table and sitting down across from her.

"Congratulations," he said, smiling. "I knew you'd get here. I knew you would."

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