Just finished Season 3 of The Magnus Archives. I’m sad, and maybe a little in denial...so have some cute Tim/Sasha that I’m using to cope with these feelings. There will probably be a part 2 so look out for that.
Sasha looked up from her research when she heard a soft knock on her door, “Oh, hey Jon, did you need something?” She asked.
Jon lingered in the doorway, shifting uncomfortably, “Look, I usually wouldn’t ask you to do this, but…I need you to tell Tim to go home.”
“That’s specific.” Sasha snorted, “Is he really causing you that much trouble?” She teased
“That’s not-look he’s sick, probably managed to catch whatever bugs going around the office.” He explained, fidgeting awkwardly.
“Any reason, in particular, you can’t do it, boss?” Sasha asked, resting her chin on her hands, quirking an eyebrow up, smiling.
“Martin and I have already tried telling him, and you know Elias is hardly any help,” Jon started to explain, rambling a bit, “and you two seem to be close, so I thought maybe you’d get a better response from him.”
Sasha shrugged, “Fair enough, I’ll go see if I can work my magic, but I won’t guarantee anything.”
~
Sasha went to go find Tim, stopping by the staff area, making him a mug of tea to bring as a peace offering.
Walking into the room, however, she could see what Jon was talking about. Tim looked terrible, hunched over his some paperwork, brow furrowed, a heavy flush on his cheeks.
He rubbed his forehead, a headache settling there if the crease in his brow was any indication.
She sat across from him, pushing the mug of tea towards him, “So Mr. Stoker, someone told me that you’re stubborn.” Sasha told him, earning a sharp glare from Tim. “What's with the sour look?”She asked, “Am I wrong?”
“Jon sent you, did he?” Tim croaked, rolling his eyes, “Tell him I’m fine and to leave me alone.”
“That’s funny you don’t look fine to me.” Sasha said, combing her fingers through Tim’s unruly hair with a hand feeling him relax a little into her touch. “In fact, I think you’re running a little fever.” She said, gently resting the back of her hand to his forehead.
“It’s just a cold, s’not even that bad,” Tim mumbled, closing his eyes, leaning into her cold touch, “and there are only a few more hours left, I’ll take some medicine and be good as new by tomorrow.”
“Or you could just go home now and get a head start.” Sasha countered playfully in a weak attempt to get Tim to go home.
“Eager, aren’t we.” Tim answered a bit too sly for her liking, wearing that cheeky grin on his smug face.
“Fine, do what you want, I told Jon not to expect a miracle.” Sasha huffed, throwing up her hands, leaving.
~
“Hey, Sasha, have you seen Tim?” Martin poked his head into the break room, “ I need to do some fact-checking with him, and I haven’t been able to find him.”
Sasha looked up at him from whatever dull document she was reading, shrugging, “Haven’t seen him since this morning.” She told him. “Have you asked Jon?” She asked.
Martin’s face wrinkled, “I tried, he’s in the middle of reading a statement, and you know how he gets.” He explained with a wave of his hand.
Sasha could feel anxiety creep into her chest as she thought back to how Tim had looked this morning. She couldn’t help but wonder if he’d gotten worst and was collapsed in some dark corner of the archives.
This place was enormous; he could be anywhere.
She shook these thoughts off quickly, clearing her throat, “I’ll help you find him, he’s probably off somewhere slacking off or something.” Sasha told him, getting up from her seat, “Two heads are better than one after all.
~
It took a bit of searching before Sasha found Tim, relief washing over her.
Tim was lying in one of the lesser-used rooms, on an old beat-up couch, fast asleep his congested snores the only sound permeating the silence.
Sasha rolled her eyes, finding this absolutely ridiculous. She should have woken up and told him to go home, but instead, she ducked out of the room, snagging a thick duvet from one of the cots, draping it over him.
She was pretty sure it belonged to Martin, but she knew he wouldn’t mind.
Hesitating for a moment, Sasha knelt down, combing his damp bangs away from his forehead, pressing her lips to the warm skin there.
Tim snorted, shifting, and her heart nearly leaped out of her chest as she quickly pulled away. He rolled over onto his side, coughing a little before his breath evened out once more.
Sasha got up, letting her eyes scan Tim’s sleeping form just for a moment before turning to leave. She just had to tell Martin that he’d have to pester Tim later.
~
“Hey, why is Tim wandering around the archives wearing my duvet?” Martin poked his head in to ask, not really upset, just confused.
“Oh, he’s just stubborn, he sick and he won't go home.” Sasha replied, looking up from her work, “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Oh no, not at all.” Martin said, putting hands up, “I was just wondering if there was a reason, I think it’s getting on Jon’s nerves.”
“Don’t tell him that, it’ll just feed his ego,” Sasha told Martin, rolling her eyes, getting up, “I’ll go see if I can go talk him into going home, again.”
~
Sasha was on the search once again for Tim, wondering just how a man wearing duvet was so hard to find when she stopped in her tracks outside the bathroom hearing something.
She listened silently, hearing what she was sure was a sneeze, sighing pushing the door open to the bathroom. Not particularly caring that it was the men's restroom, glad that Tim at least had the foresight not to drag Martin’s poor duvet in here with him.
Tim was blowing his nose into a paper towel, muffling a cough afterward. He didn’t notice Sasha until she cleared her throat, looking a little like a deer in the headlights, “Fancy meeting you here.” He croaked, “In the men's restroom…”
“Ready to give up and go home yet?” Sasha asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Why would I do th-that?” Tim shot back, his breath snagging as sniffled liquidly, pressing a knuckle under his nose.
“Come on, Tim, give up this ridiculous charade; you’re clearly miserable.” She told him, poking him in the chest, “Go home and call in sick Stoker.”
Tim brushed her hand away, “Mind your own business, James.” He answered pointedly. “I told you I’m fine, leave me alone.” He grouched, turning around leaving. Pausing momentarily, in the doorway, his breath snagging, “Huh’HUHISSHhiew!” He bent nearly in half, with a harsh sneeze.
He spun around, facing her, “That doesn’t prove anything.” Tim said, pointing at her backing out of the room.
~
It wasn’t long after that encounter that she found herself sipping tea on the couch in the break room.
Tim stumbled in flopping down next to her, head slumping onto her shoulder, his body radiating a stifling heat.
“I changed my mind,” He croaked his voice, sounding wrecked, “I feel like I’m dying.”
Sasha sighed, setting her tea aside, facing him, “I know, let's get you home.” She said, smoothing his hair back from his face, “I’ll call you a cab.”
It didn’t take long for the cab to get here. Sasha helped Tim up, stumbling a little under his weight as he leaned on her for support, half carrying him out to the cab.
Sasha then went around to the other side, getting into the cab. Tim huffed a breathy laugh this, rolling his flushed face to look at Sasha with a dopey grin, “ Ha, I always knew you couldn’t resist me." He teased, winking at her, dissolving into a harsh fit of coughing.
She rubbed his back rolling her eyes, “You’re ridiculous, you know that right.” Sasha said, letting Tim lean against her, with a weak groan.
“I try my best.” Tim croaked, letting his eyes slip closed exhausted.
“Take a nap, you need, we’ll be back at your place soon.” Sasha told him, feeling Tim relax a little next to him as he started to nod off.
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Honestly I had lots of fun writing this part. I got real soft w/ the Tim/Sasha relationship! Hope someone enjoys reading it!
Tim was jolted awake when the cab came to an abrupt stop. He blinked blearily stretching and yawning, rolling his shoulders. His muscles felt tight and sore.
He could feel the cab door beside him open, warm, gentle hands helping him out into the brisk night air. Tim shuttered, muffling a weak cough into a loose fist, tightening his arms around his middle, trying to conserve some warmth.
Tim stumbled drunkenly, his head feeling too heavy, spinning dizzily black spots filling the edges of his vision.
“Easy,” Sasha hummed, her warm voice cutting through the fog, “wait until you get inside before passing out.” She said, helping him stumbled up the stairs to his apartment.
Once they got to the door, Tim fumbled to get his keys out of his pocket, groaning when he dropped them, pressing the palm of his hand into his socket, trying to suppress the growing headache.
“I’ve got it,” Sasha said, rubbing his back, scooping up the fallen keys quickly, unlocking the door. She helped him inside, letting him slump onto the couch, unable to bear his weight any longer.
“Sorry about this,” Tim groaned, slinging an arm over his eyes dramatically, “I know this was a lot of trouble to drag my sorry butt home.”
“It was,” Sasha answered, poking fun at him, “but it did get me out of work early, so we’ll consider it a plus.” She said, sitting down on the couch next to him.
Tim raised his arm a little, so he could peek out at her, “You don’t have stick around, you know, I’ll be fine on my own.”
Sasha laughed, “Right like I’m going to leave you alone after you barely managed to stumble up the stairs,” She told him, “Face it, Stoker, you’re stuck with me now.”
“I can think of worst things.” Tim, grabbing the remote, turning on the Tv flipping through the channels before finally settling on something. Sitting in comfortable silence with Sasha.
~
Tim barely lasted longer than ten minutes before he was passed out, mouth hanging open, slightly snoring away.
Sasha got up, easing him down onto the couch, so he was a little more comfortable. Tim shifted, curling in on himself, shivering. She pulled the throw off the back of the sofa, draping it over him.
She gently combed her fingers under his bangs letting her hand rest on his too warm forehead for a moment before pulling her hand away, “Poor baby.” Sash mumbled, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
“Careful, Mrs. James, I could get used to this.” Tim mumbled, turning to her, half asleep.
“Aren’t you suppose to be asleep, Mr.Stoker?” Sasha glared at him playfully, teasing him petting his hair.
“Mmm’almost there, just need one thing,” Tim mumbled, pulling her down by the wrist, tugging her into his arms with a squeak, “perfect.”
Sasha laughed, “You’re the worst, I swear if you get me sick, you’ll regret it.” She said, no real heat behind her words.
Tim grumbled something unintelligible, burying his face into her neck, already quickly drifting off to sleep.
