[Fic]: I Raise My Song To You, The Second of March, A Touch Of Red
Three short fics from the week.
Title: I Raise My Song To You
Rating: PG-13
Paring: Adelle/Claire
Word count: 284
Spoiler: Minor ones for "Haunted".
A/N: Written for the comment_fic prompt "Adelle returns to the Dollhouse after Margaret's funeral".
She could tell Adelle was drunk by the cadence of her heels: a metronome steady rhythm with occasional pauses like a single finger stopping the pendulum to turn over the music sheet.
Sliding the infirmary door open, she saw Adelle standing in front of the rock pool, starring down at the water. She was in her mourning wear, a slender black dress with no hint of color.
"I didn't realize you were still here, Dr. Saunders."
Ivy told her the same thing when she dropped off the Active's reports.
"I didn't want to leave, in case I was needed."
Adelle didn't respond, so Claire approached her, standing close enough that Adelle's arm brushed up against her lab coat.
"It isn't wise to drink on your medication," Claire said.
Adelle lifted her glass in a mock toast. "Ah, yet another unwise choice. I have made quite a few as of late."
It didn't matter if she was referring to Mrs. Bashford's resurrection or Mr. Dominic's betrayal. What was clear, at least to her, was that Adelle stashed these weighted things where no one could see.
Claire was a doctor, she noticed the strain where Adelle carried it all. It was etched in her flesh, in the stiffness of her legs and the tautness of her shoulders.
Claire reached over to clasp Adelle's hand in her own. Adelle looked down at their hands, squeezing with the lightest pressure. The next move was Adelle's, who promptly tugged her closer and caught Claire's lips with her own.
"This too is unwise," Adelle murmured several beats later, but she pulled Claire towards the infirmary all the same, the staccato of their heels tapping a prelude to their next movement.
***
Title: The Second of March
Rating: PG
Chracters: Paul, Ivy, Topher, Boyd.
Word Count: 339
Spoilers: Nothing past Vows.
AN:Written for comment_fic prompt "Holiday cheer". Weird, weird crackfic.
Christmas, as Paul learned, was a working holiday in the Dollhouse. It seemed half the client's needed a Doll for family dinners or skiing in the Aspens. Not surprisingly it was also the biggest time for pro bono engagements.
"I take it we don't get-" Paul's question slid into laughter as he saw Boyd at his desk wearing a Santa outfit. Boyd glared at him.
"No. Especially not when Echo has an engagement at the LA juvenile dentition center tomorrow."
"Are you her back up?" he asked, laughing until he saw the elf costume he had to wear.
New Years was worse: someone vomited on his shoes, his wallet was stolen and a glitching Echo beat the crap out of a B list TV celebrity. All before midnight.
And Valentines Day? All of February, back to back R rated engagements. Everyone had dark circles under their eyes and Topher had a five foot pyramid of empty Redbull cans in his office.
For everyone's sanity, Adelle shut the whole house down for the first week of March. Paul was about leave when he received a text from Ivy about holiday celebration at a bar a few blocks away.
"So what are we celebrating, exactly?" Paul asked as he slid into the corner booth next to Boyd.
"The lull," Boyd said, poring a glass of dark beer.
"No. No. The lull is not a proper holiday. You cannot toast the lull. We are here to celebrate the birth of a great thinker," Topher said, gesturing with his glass, sloshing beer on the table and Ivy.
"Half off pitchers all night. The why doesn't matter," Ivy said, blotting her sleeve.
Paul took the nearly full glass from Boyd with a nod.
Topher raised his glass, "To Dr. Seuss."
A murmur of cheers and everyone touched their glasses. Paul shook his head and followed suite. With a few beers and full night's sleep ahead of him, this seemed as good a holiday as any.
At least until Topher started drunkenly talking in rhyme.
***
Title: A Touch Of Red
Rated: PG-13
Characters: Alpha, Whiskey
Word Count:182
Spoilers: Gen season 1.
AN: Written for prompt #11 at dollhouse100 , bleed.
"Hello, Alpha."
"Good morning, Whiskey." Whiskey had a bandage on her cheek, and another across her forehead. She had not been hurt before her treatment. Sometimes he got hurt on his treatments too, and doesn't remember how.
A little red oozed out from the bandage on her forehead, brighter then paint. Alpha couldn't look away, breakfast forgotten as the streak of color moved down her skin. Whiskey took no notice, focused on mashing strawberries into her oatmeal.
It felt right to reach over and wipe it away with his thumb. As he rubbed the stain away on a napkin, Whiskey looked up at him.
"You're hurt," he said. She touched her forehead, then looked at her reddish fingertips.
"Dr Saunders made it better," she said, taking a bite of her breakfast. He watched as the bandage turned dark around the edge, but no more blood came. Just a drying line over her eyebrow where he touched her.
Alpha returned to his toast, knowing exactly what he would paint today in art. Whiskey looked better with a touch of red on her skin.
***
Title: I Raise My Song To You
Rating: PG-13
Paring: Adelle/Claire
Word count: 284
Spoiler: Minor ones for "Haunted".
A/N: Written for the comment_fic prompt "Adelle returns to the Dollhouse after Margaret's funeral".
She could tell Adelle was drunk by the cadence of her heels: a metronome steady rhythm with occasional pauses like a single finger stopping the pendulum to turn over the music sheet.
Sliding the infirmary door open, she saw Adelle standing in front of the rock pool, starring down at the water. She was in her mourning wear, a slender black dress with no hint of color.
"I didn't realize you were still here, Dr. Saunders."
Ivy told her the same thing when she dropped off the Active's reports.
"I didn't want to leave, in case I was needed."
Adelle didn't respond, so Claire approached her, standing close enough that Adelle's arm brushed up against her lab coat.
"It isn't wise to drink on your medication," Claire said.
Adelle lifted her glass in a mock toast. "Ah, yet another unwise choice. I have made quite a few as of late."
It didn't matter if she was referring to Mrs. Bashford's resurrection or Mr. Dominic's betrayal. What was clear, at least to her, was that Adelle stashed these weighted things where no one could see.
Claire was a doctor, she noticed the strain where Adelle carried it all. It was etched in her flesh, in the stiffness of her legs and the tautness of her shoulders.
Claire reached over to clasp Adelle's hand in her own. Adelle looked down at their hands, squeezing with the lightest pressure. The next move was Adelle's, who promptly tugged her closer and caught Claire's lips with her own.
"This too is unwise," Adelle murmured several beats later, but she pulled Claire towards the infirmary all the same, the staccato of their heels tapping a prelude to their next movement.
***
Title: The Second of March
Rating: PG
Chracters: Paul, Ivy, Topher, Boyd.
Word Count: 339
Spoilers: Nothing past Vows.
AN:Written for comment_fic prompt "Holiday cheer". Weird, weird crackfic.
Christmas, as Paul learned, was a working holiday in the Dollhouse. It seemed half the client's needed a Doll for family dinners or skiing in the Aspens. Not surprisingly it was also the biggest time for pro bono engagements.
"I take it we don't get-" Paul's question slid into laughter as he saw Boyd at his desk wearing a Santa outfit. Boyd glared at him.
"No. Especially not when Echo has an engagement at the LA juvenile dentition center tomorrow."
"Are you her back up?" he asked, laughing until he saw the elf costume he had to wear.
New Years was worse: someone vomited on his shoes, his wallet was stolen and a glitching Echo beat the crap out of a B list TV celebrity. All before midnight.
And Valentines Day? All of February, back to back R rated engagements. Everyone had dark circles under their eyes and Topher had a five foot pyramid of empty Redbull cans in his office.
For everyone's sanity, Adelle shut the whole house down for the first week of March. Paul was about leave when he received a text from Ivy about holiday celebration at a bar a few blocks away.
"So what are we celebrating, exactly?" Paul asked as he slid into the corner booth next to Boyd.
"The lull," Boyd said, poring a glass of dark beer.
"No. No. The lull is not a proper holiday. You cannot toast the lull. We are here to celebrate the birth of a great thinker," Topher said, gesturing with his glass, sloshing beer on the table and Ivy.
"Half off pitchers all night. The why doesn't matter," Ivy said, blotting her sleeve.
Paul took the nearly full glass from Boyd with a nod.
Topher raised his glass, "To Dr. Seuss."
A murmur of cheers and everyone touched their glasses. Paul shook his head and followed suite. With a few beers and full night's sleep ahead of him, this seemed as good a holiday as any.
At least until Topher started drunkenly talking in rhyme.
***
Title: A Touch Of Red
Rated: PG-13
Characters: Alpha, Whiskey
Word Count:182
Spoilers: Gen season 1.
AN: Written for prompt #11 at dollhouse100 , bleed.
"Hello, Alpha."
"Good morning, Whiskey." Whiskey had a bandage on her cheek, and another across her forehead. She had not been hurt before her treatment. Sometimes he got hurt on his treatments too, and doesn't remember how.
A little red oozed out from the bandage on her forehead, brighter then paint. Alpha couldn't look away, breakfast forgotten as the streak of color moved down her skin. Whiskey took no notice, focused on mashing strawberries into her oatmeal.
It felt right to reach over and wipe it away with his thumb. As he rubbed the stain away on a napkin, Whiskey looked up at him.
"You're hurt," he said. She touched her forehead, then looked at her reddish fingertips.
"Dr Saunders made it better," she said, taking a bite of her breakfast. He watched as the bandage turned dark around the edge, but no more blood came. Just a drying line over her eyebrow where he touched her.
Alpha returned to his toast, knowing exactly what he would paint today in art. Whiskey looked better with a touch of red on her skin.
***