[Star Wars: Drabble] "Enough" [PG]
Title: Enough
Author: Ami Ven
Rating: PG
Word Count: 350
Prompt: very, very late Christmas present for gg_fangirl
Fandom: Star Wars (vaguely early Rogue Squadron era)
Pairing(s): none (well, sort of implied Han/Leia)
Summary: “Okay, I think you’ve had enough.”
Enough
“Okay,” said Tycho, reaching out to take the bottle of Corellian whiskey from Hobbie’s increasingly-precarious hold. “I think you’ve had enough.”
Hobbie pouted. “But, Wedge-”
“I’m Tycho,” Tycho interrupted, with an amused smile.
“Right, what I said. Tycho, the party’s just getting started.”
The party was not getting started. It had, in fact, been going on for several hours and most of the guests had left. Wedge sat a few feet away, either more sober than the rest of them or just faking it really well, trying to teach Corellian drinking songs to a wide-eyed Luke who forgot the words almost immediately after learning them. Janson was sprawled in one of the big armchairs by the row of viewports, mostly unconscious- every now and then, he’d mumble something that made less than no sense and shift into another equally uncomfortable-looking position. Leia and Han had been sitting at the makeshift bar, both looking flushed and happy, until a few moments ago, and Tycho didn’t really want to think too hard about where they’d gone.
“Hey,” said Hobbie, suddenly. “How come you’re always so ‘sponsible, Tych?”
The Alderaanian rolled his eyes. “Because I have to be, with friends like you and Wes.” He set the bottle on the table and grabbed Hobbie’s arm. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”
Hobbie grinned. “Sorry, Tycho, you’re not really my type.”
“You will have a hangover tomorrow,” said Tycho flatly, as they started down the hall. “And I will laugh at you.”
“Okay,” his friend agreed, still grinning. “You don’t laugh enough, Tych. That’s why me ‘n Wes keep playin’ tricks on you. You gott’a nice laugh.”
“Well, thank you. I think.” They reached the room that Hobbie shared with Janson, and Tycho opened the door, dumping Hobbie onto the nearest bed, which he was pretty sure was actually Janson’s. “Get some sleep.”
“Okay,” said Hobbie again. “Hey, Tycho?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks. For today. The party, I mean, and just now. Which I may not remember tomorrow, but if I ask, it was a really great life day. So, thanks.”
Tycho smiled. “You’re welcome.”
THE END
Current Mood:
frustrated
Author: Ami Ven
Rating: PG
Word Count: 350
Prompt: very, very late Christmas present for gg_fangirl
Fandom: Star Wars (vaguely early Rogue Squadron era)
Pairing(s): none (well, sort of implied Han/Leia)
Summary: “Okay, I think you’ve had enough.”
Enough
“Okay,” said Tycho, reaching out to take the bottle of Corellian whiskey from Hobbie’s increasingly-precarious hold. “I think you’ve had enough.”
Hobbie pouted. “But, Wedge-”
“I’m Tycho,” Tycho interrupted, with an amused smile.
“Right, what I said. Tycho, the party’s just getting started.”
The party was not getting started. It had, in fact, been going on for several hours and most of the guests had left. Wedge sat a few feet away, either more sober than the rest of them or just faking it really well, trying to teach Corellian drinking songs to a wide-eyed Luke who forgot the words almost immediately after learning them. Janson was sprawled in one of the big armchairs by the row of viewports, mostly unconscious- every now and then, he’d mumble something that made less than no sense and shift into another equally uncomfortable-looking position. Leia and Han had been sitting at the makeshift bar, both looking flushed and happy, until a few moments ago, and Tycho didn’t really want to think too hard about where they’d gone.
“Hey,” said Hobbie, suddenly. “How come you’re always so ‘sponsible, Tych?”
The Alderaanian rolled his eyes. “Because I have to be, with friends like you and Wes.” He set the bottle on the table and grabbed Hobbie’s arm. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”
Hobbie grinned. “Sorry, Tycho, you’re not really my type.”
“You will have a hangover tomorrow,” said Tycho flatly, as they started down the hall. “And I will laugh at you.”
“Okay,” his friend agreed, still grinning. “You don’t laugh enough, Tych. That’s why me ‘n Wes keep playin’ tricks on you. You gott’a nice laugh.”
“Well, thank you. I think.” They reached the room that Hobbie shared with Janson, and Tycho opened the door, dumping Hobbie onto the nearest bed, which he was pretty sure was actually Janson’s. “Get some sleep.”
“Okay,” said Hobbie again. “Hey, Tycho?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks. For today. The party, I mean, and just now. Which I may not remember tomorrow, but if I ask, it was a really great life day. So, thanks.”
Tycho smiled. “You’re welcome.”
THE END
Current Mood:
frustrated