and yet more drabbles!
Gah, I'm a drabbling machine, although I'm not confining myself to 100 words. Bad me.
For qowf, a Stargate drabble:
It all began quietly enough; but for that matter, so did the Trojan War.
Daniel likes to think he had the first glimmer of uncertainty when Raneyah brought the box of tissues to him, explaining how the chappa'ai had opened and vomited the item forth. But he's wrong, he's lying to himself, because all he thought was, "Guess Jack didn't retire after all." And realized he could now get some more antihistamines.
So he scrawled something snarky back -- it was Jack, after all, had to be -- and returned the box through the gate.
Later, after the deaths and the running and the return to Earth and finding an apartment and the first couple of times they save the planet-- later, he buries the knowledge that it all happened because he couldn't settle for the life he had in his hands. After all, we're all the hero of our own stories, and nobody wants to be Paris.
***
And for jeviltwin, some XF:
She is waking slowly tonight, car holding her in its hum, infant moon an eyelash dropped at the bowl curve of the horizon. An empty coffee-cup, one of the styrofoam ones you still get at rest areas and corner stores in most of the country, rolls around the floor by her feet.
"Time?" she asks fuzzily, face still turned to the window.
He shrugs, only the outline of a cheekbone visible in the amber light from the dashboard. "Two, maybe."
Scully stifles a yawn and stretches awkwardly, one hand bumping Mulder's elbow as she groans. The car wibbles and then straightens, headlights jumping on the flat dark pavement. "Sorry."
"It's okay. You needed the sleep." He takes his hand off the wheel and cups her cheek, eyes still on the road. "You still do."
"Maybe."
But she loosens her seatbelt and shifts closer to him, lets the weight of the journey bear her down against his shoulder. His sweater is soft, the car is warm. Her eyes close as slowly as she awoke, the sliver of moon slipping into darkness as she goes under.
***
Also? Those of you who read XF (and even those who don't) should go read JET's lovely thing here, for cranky!Scully and a wacky conversation with Skinner. It was probably time to stop being nice again. ::lurves JET::
For qowf, a Stargate drabble:
It all began quietly enough; but for that matter, so did the Trojan War.
Daniel likes to think he had the first glimmer of uncertainty when Raneyah brought the box of tissues to him, explaining how the chappa'ai had opened and vomited the item forth. But he's wrong, he's lying to himself, because all he thought was, "Guess Jack didn't retire after all." And realized he could now get some more antihistamines.
So he scrawled something snarky back -- it was Jack, after all, had to be -- and returned the box through the gate.
Later, after the deaths and the running and the return to Earth and finding an apartment and the first couple of times they save the planet-- later, he buries the knowledge that it all happened because he couldn't settle for the life he had in his hands. After all, we're all the hero of our own stories, and nobody wants to be Paris.
***
And for jeviltwin, some XF:
She is waking slowly tonight, car holding her in its hum, infant moon an eyelash dropped at the bowl curve of the horizon. An empty coffee-cup, one of the styrofoam ones you still get at rest areas and corner stores in most of the country, rolls around the floor by her feet.
"Time?" she asks fuzzily, face still turned to the window.
He shrugs, only the outline of a cheekbone visible in the amber light from the dashboard. "Two, maybe."
Scully stifles a yawn and stretches awkwardly, one hand bumping Mulder's elbow as she groans. The car wibbles and then straightens, headlights jumping on the flat dark pavement. "Sorry."
"It's okay. You needed the sleep." He takes his hand off the wheel and cups her cheek, eyes still on the road. "You still do."
"Maybe."
But she loosens her seatbelt and shifts closer to him, lets the weight of the journey bear her down against his shoulder. His sweater is soft, the car is warm. Her eyes close as slowly as she awoke, the sliver of moon slipping into darkness as she goes under.
***
Also? Those of you who read XF (and even those who don't) should go read JET's lovely thing here, for cranky!Scully and a wacky conversation with Skinner. It was probably time to stop being nice again. ::lurves JET::