FIC: [Untitled] "9:00 AM - Switching" (24)
Title: [Full Story Currently Untitled] "9:00 AM - Switching"
Author: Galadriel (caras_galadhon)
Fandom: 24
Pairing: Faintest hints of Jack/Tony/Michelle and Jack/Tony.
Rating: G
Archive: Lothlorien.
Feedback: Always appreciated.
Disclaimer: Absolutely not mine. 24 belongs entirely to its creators, not me.
Summary: One day ends, another begins.
Notes: Follows directly from the end of Season 4. Third in a series of 24 24 drabbles. Can I manage the full cycle? Better yet, can I manage to post a drabble/day for 24 days? Stick around and find out. This particular part was written from the bottom up twice, thanks to a corrupt file. Many thanks to stewardess_lotr for rail timeline consultation, and to makesmewannadie, who asked for 24 fic for her birthday, and then encouraged the bunny I was attempting to ignore. Special thanks on this part go to cinzia, miriel, and brodeurbunny30, who collectively kept me from putting my fist through the monitor post-drabble-corruption.*
9:00 AM - Switching
By Galadriel
Exhaustion, unwelcome seatmate, set in muscles, mind, means. Muddled mumble, "keep driving," craving exile shared by three.
Fingers curled 'round bicep, gently shaking, tugging forward.
Listless lids responded slowly, shrugging off seductive sleep.
Engine idled, purring power; horses stabled, 'waiting starter's pistol. Tight-lipped smiles; exchanging warnings, welcome wishes, bon voyages. Awkward embrace, chest to side, strained by belted torsos; limbs akimbo, nervous laughter cloaking regrets, wounded pride.
Harder leaving when he's leaving his whole self behind.
Clicking wheels, ever onward, spoke a name no longer his. Trailed sounds stripped of their meanings, fainter still with every clack.
Jack-not-Jack.
Not Jack.
END
(June 27, 2005)
Crossposted to 24_fanfic.
*Viggo Mortensen, after having three years of stories and poems stolen from him, said rather philosophically--
"There is no point in trying to remember and rebuild the word houses, word hills, word dams, or word skeletons like some sort of archeology project. There may be pieces I recall or inadvertently retell, but every word will be new, will go somewhere, will die no matter what I might do to tame or hold it." ~Introduction, The Best American Nonrequired Reading 2004.
--One lost fannish drabble is not three years of publishable work, but the words still serve their purpose, and in tandem with good friends, went a long way to staving off a meltdown.
Previous drabbles:
7:00 AM - Main Line
8:00 AM - Hopper
Author: Galadriel (caras_galadhon)
Fandom: 24
Pairing: Faintest hints of Jack/Tony/Michelle and Jack/Tony.
Rating: G
Archive: Lothlorien.
Feedback: Always appreciated.
Disclaimer: Absolutely not mine. 24 belongs entirely to its creators, not me.
Summary: One day ends, another begins.
Notes: Follows directly from the end of Season 4. Third in a series of 24 24 drabbles. Can I manage the full cycle? Better yet, can I manage to post a drabble/day for 24 days? Stick around and find out. This particular part was written from the bottom up twice, thanks to a corrupt file. Many thanks to stewardess_lotr for rail timeline consultation, and to makesmewannadie, who asked for 24 fic for her birthday, and then encouraged the bunny I was attempting to ignore. Special thanks on this part go to cinzia, miriel, and brodeurbunny30, who collectively kept me from putting my fist through the monitor post-drabble-corruption.*
9:00 AM - Switching
By Galadriel
Exhaustion, unwelcome seatmate, set in muscles, mind, means. Muddled mumble, "keep driving," craving exile shared by three.
Fingers curled 'round bicep, gently shaking, tugging forward.
Listless lids responded slowly, shrugging off seductive sleep.
Engine idled, purring power; horses stabled, 'waiting starter's pistol. Tight-lipped smiles; exchanging warnings, welcome wishes, bon voyages. Awkward embrace, chest to side, strained by belted torsos; limbs akimbo, nervous laughter cloaking regrets, wounded pride.
Harder leaving when he's leaving his whole self behind.
Clicking wheels, ever onward, spoke a name no longer his. Trailed sounds stripped of their meanings, fainter still with every clack.
Jack-not-Jack.
Not Jack.
END
(June 27, 2005)
Crossposted to 24_fanfic.
*Viggo Mortensen, after having three years of stories and poems stolen from him, said rather philosophically--
"There is no point in trying to remember and rebuild the word houses, word hills, word dams, or word skeletons like some sort of archeology project. There may be pieces I recall or inadvertently retell, but every word will be new, will go somewhere, will die no matter what I might do to tame or hold it." ~Introduction, The Best American Nonrequired Reading 2004.
--One lost fannish drabble is not three years of publishable work, but the words still serve their purpose, and in tandem with good friends, went a long way to staving off a meltdown.
Previous drabbles:
7:00 AM - Main Line
8:00 AM - Hopper