badfic challenge by defaultlyric
Title: For Never Was A Story of More Woe
Prompt: Frannie's taking a Shakespeare course and decides that the station needs to put on Romeo and Juliet, naturally with Fraser and herself playing the two title characters, respectively. Naturally everyone disagrees and proceeds go along their merry way. Frannie seethes. Unfortunately, Fraser and RayK drag in a crate that is filled with shiny purplish stuff. Frannie looks at it, inadvertently breathes some of it in, and turns into VILLAINOUS!FRANNIE. She makes away with Fraser, determined to subject him to playing Romeo opposite her against his will. RayK is appalled, and pulls the last trick he's got up his sleeve: calling Vecchio up and telling on Frannie. However will they prevent Fraser from drinking from the poisoned cup in a last ditch attempt to escape the horror of misused Shakespeare?
Prompt written by: mondschein1
Rating/warnings/etc: No warnings to speak of, really. Uh, just bits and pieces, because life has been unkind and extremely busy. I had to submit something though, right? Huge apologies to mondschein1, because this was a fun-looking prompt and so much could have been done with it.
Exerpt from Chapter 1
"Come on guys, it'll be great!" Having built up steam, Francesca stood less chance of being stopped than did a frieght train on a tight schedule. "I'm taking this class.. trust me, it's exactly what we need around here. You know, to boost morale."
Those unfortunate enough to be in the room all wore uncertain looks, many of them bordering on confusion, revulsion, or both. Those who knew Frannie well enough allowed themselves grins; the situation, either way, had the potential to be quite amusing. The smirking subsided somewhat as Francesca began making her rounds around the room, shoving scripts into everybody's hands.
Detective Huey made the mistake of walking in at precisely the wrong moment. "Xerox paper?"
"No," Frannie ground out as she slapped a stapled packet of papers at him. "Shakespeare."
The room was utterly silent until Dewey finally broke, spitting a mouthful of cuppuccino all over Huey's shoe.
Exerpt from Chapter 2
"Move. Move, wouldya move please?"
"Easy, Ray."
Finally, her chance! Her last chance. If anybody would see the brilliance of her idea, Fraser would. He was the classy one, the diamond in the rough among a precinct full of uncultured swine. Fraser was certain to fall for the idea; it was Shakespeare.
"Fraser. Hi." True to her usual routine, Frannie siddled up next to Fraser, who was helping Ray haul a large crate down the hall. Trying to feign interest, she figured it was best to score some points first. Fraser was a sucker for people who were interested in what he had to say, afterall.
"What's in the box?" Francesca leaned forward to inspect the oversized burden the boys carried, noting the purple smudges on the top and taking a nice big whiff. Fraser could always tell what something was by smelling it. It was worth a try.
"Francesca." Fraser stopped walking long enough to politely address her, and probably would have tipped his hat if both his hands hadn't been occupied. Ray made an impatient face, which was completely ignored. "We aren't terribly certain, actually. It was recovered from a storehouse along with several other crates of various-"
"Fraser." Ray eyed them both, giving his end of the crate a dramatic heave as though it were much heavier than it looked (which is wasn't). "Can we?"
"Oh. Yes. Certainly, Ray." Fraser started walking again, trying not to feel too guilty about the fact that he was purposely averting his gaze from the doe eyes he knew Frannie was making. "If you'll excuse us. Francesca."
And off they went, leaving her there alone, to stew in rejection. Strike two.
Exerpt from Chapter 4
Fraser gave another frantic tug, but to no avail. Rope he could deal with, perhaps even cable or wire, but freeing himself from a pair of handcuffs would take more time, if it could be done at all.
".. then have my lips in the sin they stole."
Fraser flinched. It wasn't the first line Francesca had butchered.
"Fraser, that's your line." Her voice came through sweetly, though the frustration in the air was palpable. She paced back and forth in front of where she had him cuffed to a shelving unit, and the dim closet lighting only made her look sinister.
Why had he fallen for it? Was he really that bad at judging character? Was he really so gullible?
"Fraser."
"Sin from my lips?" He took a moment to wet said lips, mouth like cotton. It was stuffy in the supply closet already, and they'd been playing this horrible abomination of a game for hours now. "O trespass sweetly urged."
There was a helpless silence in the air as Frannie eyed him expectantly, looming dangerously near. Fraser had figured that if he'd indulged her a little, she would be mollified; it hadn't worked. There was only horror on the horizon.
He sighed quietly, and dutifully recited the next line. "Give me my sin again."
Prompt: Frannie's taking a Shakespeare course and decides that the station needs to put on Romeo and Juliet, naturally with Fraser and herself playing the two title characters, respectively. Naturally everyone disagrees and proceeds go along their merry way. Frannie seethes. Unfortunately, Fraser and RayK drag in a crate that is filled with shiny purplish stuff. Frannie looks at it, inadvertently breathes some of it in, and turns into VILLAINOUS!FRANNIE. She makes away with Fraser, determined to subject him to playing Romeo opposite her against his will. RayK is appalled, and pulls the last trick he's got up his sleeve: calling Vecchio up and telling on Frannie. However will they prevent Fraser from drinking from the poisoned cup in a last ditch attempt to escape the horror of misused Shakespeare?
Prompt written by: mondschein1
Rating/warnings/etc: No warnings to speak of, really. Uh, just bits and pieces, because life has been unkind and extremely busy. I had to submit something though, right? Huge apologies to mondschein1, because this was a fun-looking prompt and so much could have been done with it.
Exerpt from Chapter 1
"Come on guys, it'll be great!" Having built up steam, Francesca stood less chance of being stopped than did a frieght train on a tight schedule. "I'm taking this class.. trust me, it's exactly what we need around here. You know, to boost morale."
Those unfortunate enough to be in the room all wore uncertain looks, many of them bordering on confusion, revulsion, or both. Those who knew Frannie well enough allowed themselves grins; the situation, either way, had the potential to be quite amusing. The smirking subsided somewhat as Francesca began making her rounds around the room, shoving scripts into everybody's hands.
Detective Huey made the mistake of walking in at precisely the wrong moment. "Xerox paper?"
"No," Frannie ground out as she slapped a stapled packet of papers at him. "Shakespeare."
The room was utterly silent until Dewey finally broke, spitting a mouthful of cuppuccino all over Huey's shoe.
Exerpt from Chapter 2
"Move. Move, wouldya move please?"
"Easy, Ray."
Finally, her chance! Her last chance. If anybody would see the brilliance of her idea, Fraser would. He was the classy one, the diamond in the rough among a precinct full of uncultured swine. Fraser was certain to fall for the idea; it was Shakespeare.
"Fraser. Hi." True to her usual routine, Frannie siddled up next to Fraser, who was helping Ray haul a large crate down the hall. Trying to feign interest, she figured it was best to score some points first. Fraser was a sucker for people who were interested in what he had to say, afterall.
"What's in the box?" Francesca leaned forward to inspect the oversized burden the boys carried, noting the purple smudges on the top and taking a nice big whiff. Fraser could always tell what something was by smelling it. It was worth a try.
"Francesca." Fraser stopped walking long enough to politely address her, and probably would have tipped his hat if both his hands hadn't been occupied. Ray made an impatient face, which was completely ignored. "We aren't terribly certain, actually. It was recovered from a storehouse along with several other crates of various-"
"Fraser." Ray eyed them both, giving his end of the crate a dramatic heave as though it were much heavier than it looked (which is wasn't). "Can we?"
"Oh. Yes. Certainly, Ray." Fraser started walking again, trying not to feel too guilty about the fact that he was purposely averting his gaze from the doe eyes he knew Frannie was making. "If you'll excuse us. Francesca."
And off they went, leaving her there alone, to stew in rejection. Strike two.
Exerpt from Chapter 4
Fraser gave another frantic tug, but to no avail. Rope he could deal with, perhaps even cable or wire, but freeing himself from a pair of handcuffs would take more time, if it could be done at all.
".. then have my lips in the sin they stole."
Fraser flinched. It wasn't the first line Francesca had butchered.
"Fraser, that's your line." Her voice came through sweetly, though the frustration in the air was palpable. She paced back and forth in front of where she had him cuffed to a shelving unit, and the dim closet lighting only made her look sinister.
Why had he fallen for it? Was he really that bad at judging character? Was he really so gullible?
"Fraser."
"Sin from my lips?" He took a moment to wet said lips, mouth like cotton. It was stuffy in the supply closet already, and they'd been playing this horrible abomination of a game for hours now. "O trespass sweetly urged."
There was a helpless silence in the air as Frannie eyed him expectantly, looming dangerously near. Fraser had figured that if he'd indulged her a little, she would be mollified; it hadn't worked. There was only horror on the horizon.
He sighed quietly, and dutifully recited the next line. "Give me my sin again."