drabble memes!

[anamuan]

Let's play a game. Hit a random number generator five times. Leave a comment with all five numbers and a single 1-word prompt and I will write you 5 drabbles in the corresponding fandoms based on your prompt.

Fandom:
Darker than Black
Generation Kill
Gundam Wing
Inception
J2
JE
Merlin
Saiyuki
SGA
SPN

Ends with:
0
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9

OR, pick 1

Comments

cheated a little with 'portmanteau' by using an actual portmanteau

[anamuan]

It shouldn't matter, but it does. It does and Arthur can't deny it. That's the thing about forever mucking about in each other's heads: eventually all your secrets come out, and the more you try to keep something hidden, the more it oozes out into everything. Better to acknowledge something early and then move on. Arthur never thought that a criminal life where he breaks into other people's brains would actually make him into a healthier person, but there you go.

Arthur pours milk over his breakfast and eats it mechanically, thinking, as the light creeps in through the window and across the floor. He doesn't really like muesli, but that doesn't matter. It's what Eames had in the house, so that's what Arthur's eating. It doesn't look like Eames has been home in a long time.

Arthur dumps the rest of breakfast in the sink. He can't stay here. His toothbrush is still in the bathroom, and there's three weeks' worth of dust on the kitchen counter. He can't stay here, but, honestly, he's got no idea where else to look for Eames.

Arthur's in the bedroom, dumping everything back into his suitcase. It doesn't fit the first time because he's rushing so much in his need to get out, and when it doesn't close, he's forced to dump it all back out and actually make something of an effort to fold things. And then there's the jingle of a key in the lock, and Arthur's got his gun out, easing towards the door, where he can get a look into the living room, and--

"Christ, Arthur, you scared the fuck out of me," Eames says, body language melting into something relaxed and easy. Arthur ducks back into the bedroom to put the gun away, but that's just an excuse for not trying to figure out what kind of 'hello' Eames expects.

"Staying somewhere else?" Arthur says lightly, coming back out just in time to see Eames shrug one shoulder. Self-conscious, a little embarrassed. Arthur frowns without meaning to.

"Motel about three blocks over," he says.

"Any particular reason?"

Eames shrugs again, but he's got a little smile curving across his lips now: rueful, amused; Arthur swallows carefully against the way his heartbeat speeds up. "Didn't really like being here without you," Eames says, and Arthur grins without meaning to, but he doesn't care. He ducks back into the bedroom and knocks his suitcase off the bed with a crash.

"Well, I'm here now."

"Yes, you certainly are," Eames says, propping himself up against the doorjam and surveying the utter wreck of the bedroom. "The downstairs neighbours know it too."