Christmas!
This was going to be the 12 Drabbles of Christmas. However me, being me, got bored...
Title: Lonely This Christmas
Fandom: Law and Order: SVU
Pairing: Alex/Olivia
Rating: PG
Word count: 237
The whiskey glows like liquid topaz and rolls, all too smoothly, down her throat. She wishes that she had picked up another bottle, something with a sharp edge and bitter aftertaste. Cheap vodka maybe. Anything to give her an excuse for the sting in her eyes.
Now seems as good a time as any to shatter and dissolve into a whiskey bottle. She doesn’t have the required credentials for this journey, no fatal character flaw or traumatic past (her mother’s doesn’t count) It’s just that three long years of waiting for Alex to come home has worn her down.
Olivia raises her glass to her empty apartment. A salute to the lonely, dramatic cliché sitting at her kitchen table.
“Merry fucking Christmas….”
***
The car moves along an unnamed highway and snowflakes speckle the windshield.
It looks like an untuned teleision. She stares blankly and can hear the static buzzing in her ears.
She is being moved on for, ‘security reasons.’ Picked up and plopped down into another existence, ‘for her own protection,’ She wants to tell the Feds that for the protection of her sanity she’d like to go home. However she’s afraid this may just be the remains of her misplaced arrogance taking it’s last stand.
Her metal chrysalis speeds on and Alex lets her breath cloud up the window, unable to look at possible locations, possible lives flashing by.
“And a happy New Year..”
Title: The Twelve Days of Christmas
Fandom: SNL
Pairing: Amy/Tina
Rating: PG
Word count: 217
Amy bounds (as far as you are aware she is the only person in New York who can actually bound) into your office and you have to stop yourself from shielding tired eyes against the impossible brightness.
“Holy crap Amy you didn’t need to shoplift all the Christmas decorations from Macy’s.”
“I just wanted to say Merry Christmas before I went home.”
She is all exaggerated gestures, smiles and tinsel.
“Amy it’s December 13th”
“Exactly, Merry 12 days before Christmas!”
She glitters. You sigh.
“Which means I have 12 days to do all of my Christmas shopping because, again, I left it until the last minute - as have you by the way. Hell right now, with the constant carol singers, demands for me to learn how to actually cook turkey and PBS Holiday Specials I don’t even like Christmas”
“Fine, have it your way then Scrooge,”
For a second you think that maybe, just maybe, she has realised her, ‘ADHD Labrador,‘ act can grate a little at 2 in the morning.
You are, of course, wrong.
Amy leans forward. Her bright eyes dazzle you and you can feel tinsel tickling your neck. She tastes of candy canes. A coating of artificial sugar is left on your lips as she pulls away,
“Happy non-denominational Holiday Season Tina.”
Title: Hark the Herald Angel
Fandom: Silence of the Lambs/Hannibal
Pairing: Clarice/Hannibal
Rating: PG
Word count: 168
AN: You could set this after SotL (although I that would contradict the notion that Hannibal had no contact with Clarice until the book Hannibal) or after the film Hannibal. By the by I hate the film Hannibal but I think this would probably make most sense in the context of that Clarice/Hannibal relationship. The poem is by Shelly.
He sends her a Christmas card that year.
She would have thought Dr Lector would consider it uncouth to celebrate such a commercial holiday. Then again freedom can put a man in all sorts of festive spirits.
She should have given the card straight to the FBI. Instead she likes to trace the words with a whisper soft fingertip. It’s so rare that she gets to be whimsical in her work.
Her skin reads the letters,
‘Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory;
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.’
So you see Clarice love and death are inexorably intertwined. Tell me how long will it be before your passion for the FBI dies?
Principles are all relative Starling. The rot of death can be sweet.
Merry Christmas
H
On the front of the card is an exquisite, Renaissance style, drawing of the Herald Angels.
Clarice Starling looks at the picture, reads the words, waits for the warning trumpet blast to sound.
Title: Baby it’s Cold Outside
Fandom: 30 Rock
Pairing: Liz/Gretchen
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 261 (not technically a drabble…)
AN: This pairing is fun to write for. Look! No wangst.
Gretchen Thomas has learnt to expect that life dating Liz will be one disaster after another. It’s like the woman lives in a sitcom; a bad sitcom with a laugh track and an audience that wolf whistles at the dirty jokes.
Given this, she can only manage a bemused eyebrow twitch when she finds Liz crouched outside her apartment in, what appears to be, only a red underwear set, fur trimmed and gorgeous. That Liz’s silk robe is trapped in her door does not surprise Gretchen at all.
Liz has the grace to look mortified.
She begins to offer up an elaborate tap-dance of an excuse (involving lost cats, phoning an owner and the need for perfect cell phone reception…) but Gretchen isn’t listening in the slightest.
Gretchen is far more interested in the fact that, despite Liz’s best attempts to ruin the effect by babbling rubbish and standing like a man, there is nothing she would like more at that moment than to have sex with her girlfriend up against her front door.
“I have just one question,”
She interrupts, desperate to stop the litany of excuses and get inside before she does something she will regret and the guy living opposite (or, ‘peephole pervert,’ as Liz lovingly calls him) will enjoy all too much.
“If it’s about why I’m dressed as Santa’s playmate in the middle of your hallway I think you’ll find this story covers it…”
“It‘s just,” Gretchen fumbles with her keys, runs her hands up Liz’s bare thighs, and fumbles some more, “where are the Christmas stockings?”
Title: Let It Snow
Fandom: Star Wars (bum bum ba da ba BUM BUM. Hum along with me children)
Pairing: Han/Leia
Rating: PG
Word count: 150
Sometimes she gets tired of sitting aimlessly on Tatooine, waiting to rescue him. She tries to keep her brain active and thinks about being set in stone, whether it is like freezing or melting.
It is called carbon freezing, but Han’s grey face looked like it was melting.
To pass the time she trickles fistfuls of sand through her outspread hand. She rubs the grains between her fingers and wonders if she could erode away her fingerprints and start again.
When the night falls, and small pinpricks of silver light allow the desert heat to escape through the sky, she dreams. She dreams of sleeping in snow, of lying perfectly still until her hair is covered and her face blends with the white all around.
Snow would definitely freeze her.
Title: Lonely This Christmas
Fandom: Law and Order: SVU
Pairing: Alex/Olivia
Rating: PG
Word count: 237
The whiskey glows like liquid topaz and rolls, all too smoothly, down her throat. She wishes that she had picked up another bottle, something with a sharp edge and bitter aftertaste. Cheap vodka maybe. Anything to give her an excuse for the sting in her eyes.
Now seems as good a time as any to shatter and dissolve into a whiskey bottle. She doesn’t have the required credentials for this journey, no fatal character flaw or traumatic past (her mother’s doesn’t count) It’s just that three long years of waiting for Alex to come home has worn her down.
Olivia raises her glass to her empty apartment. A salute to the lonely, dramatic cliché sitting at her kitchen table.
“Merry fucking Christmas….”
***
The car moves along an unnamed highway and snowflakes speckle the windshield.
It looks like an untuned teleision. She stares blankly and can hear the static buzzing in her ears.
She is being moved on for, ‘security reasons.’ Picked up and plopped down into another existence, ‘for her own protection,’ She wants to tell the Feds that for the protection of her sanity she’d like to go home. However she’s afraid this may just be the remains of her misplaced arrogance taking it’s last stand.
Her metal chrysalis speeds on and Alex lets her breath cloud up the window, unable to look at possible locations, possible lives flashing by.
“And a happy New Year..”
Title: The Twelve Days of Christmas
Fandom: SNL
Pairing: Amy/Tina
Rating: PG
Word count: 217
Amy bounds (as far as you are aware she is the only person in New York who can actually bound) into your office and you have to stop yourself from shielding tired eyes against the impossible brightness.
“Holy crap Amy you didn’t need to shoplift all the Christmas decorations from Macy’s.”
“I just wanted to say Merry Christmas before I went home.”
She is all exaggerated gestures, smiles and tinsel.
“Amy it’s December 13th”
“Exactly, Merry 12 days before Christmas!”
She glitters. You sigh.
“Which means I have 12 days to do all of my Christmas shopping because, again, I left it until the last minute - as have you by the way. Hell right now, with the constant carol singers, demands for me to learn how to actually cook turkey and PBS Holiday Specials I don’t even like Christmas”
“Fine, have it your way then Scrooge,”
For a second you think that maybe, just maybe, she has realised her, ‘ADHD Labrador,‘ act can grate a little at 2 in the morning.
You are, of course, wrong.
Amy leans forward. Her bright eyes dazzle you and you can feel tinsel tickling your neck. She tastes of candy canes. A coating of artificial sugar is left on your lips as she pulls away,
“Happy non-denominational Holiday Season Tina.”
Title: Hark the Herald Angel
Fandom: Silence of the Lambs/Hannibal
Pairing: Clarice/Hannibal
Rating: PG
Word count: 168
AN: You could set this after SotL (although I that would contradict the notion that Hannibal had no contact with Clarice until the book Hannibal) or after the film Hannibal. By the by I hate the film Hannibal but I think this would probably make most sense in the context of that Clarice/Hannibal relationship. The poem is by Shelly.
He sends her a Christmas card that year.
She would have thought Dr Lector would consider it uncouth to celebrate such a commercial holiday. Then again freedom can put a man in all sorts of festive spirits.
She should have given the card straight to the FBI. Instead she likes to trace the words with a whisper soft fingertip. It’s so rare that she gets to be whimsical in her work.
Her skin reads the letters,
‘Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory;
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.’
So you see Clarice love and death are inexorably intertwined. Tell me how long will it be before your passion for the FBI dies?
Principles are all relative Starling. The rot of death can be sweet.
Merry Christmas
H
On the front of the card is an exquisite, Renaissance style, drawing of the Herald Angels.
Clarice Starling looks at the picture, reads the words, waits for the warning trumpet blast to sound.
Title: Baby it’s Cold Outside
Fandom: 30 Rock
Pairing: Liz/Gretchen
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 261 (not technically a drabble…)
AN: This pairing is fun to write for. Look! No wangst.
Gretchen Thomas has learnt to expect that life dating Liz will be one disaster after another. It’s like the woman lives in a sitcom; a bad sitcom with a laugh track and an audience that wolf whistles at the dirty jokes.
Given this, she can only manage a bemused eyebrow twitch when she finds Liz crouched outside her apartment in, what appears to be, only a red underwear set, fur trimmed and gorgeous. That Liz’s silk robe is trapped in her door does not surprise Gretchen at all.
Liz has the grace to look mortified.
She begins to offer up an elaborate tap-dance of an excuse (involving lost cats, phoning an owner and the need for perfect cell phone reception…) but Gretchen isn’t listening in the slightest.
Gretchen is far more interested in the fact that, despite Liz’s best attempts to ruin the effect by babbling rubbish and standing like a man, there is nothing she would like more at that moment than to have sex with her girlfriend up against her front door.
“I have just one question,”
She interrupts, desperate to stop the litany of excuses and get inside before she does something she will regret and the guy living opposite (or, ‘peephole pervert,’ as Liz lovingly calls him) will enjoy all too much.
“If it’s about why I’m dressed as Santa’s playmate in the middle of your hallway I think you’ll find this story covers it…”
“It‘s just,” Gretchen fumbles with her keys, runs her hands up Liz’s bare thighs, and fumbles some more, “where are the Christmas stockings?”
Title: Let It Snow
Fandom: Star Wars (bum bum ba da ba BUM BUM. Hum along with me children)
Pairing: Han/Leia
Rating: PG
Word count: 150
Sometimes she gets tired of sitting aimlessly on Tatooine, waiting to rescue him. She tries to keep her brain active and thinks about being set in stone, whether it is like freezing or melting.
It is called carbon freezing, but Han’s grey face looked like it was melting.
To pass the time she trickles fistfuls of sand through her outspread hand. She rubs the grains between her fingers and wonders if she could erode away her fingerprints and start again.
When the night falls, and small pinpricks of silver light allow the desert heat to escape through the sky, she dreams. She dreams of sleeping in snow, of lying perfectly still until her hair is covered and her face blends with the white all around.
Snow would definitely freeze her.