Drabbles
I thought I'd post the drabbles I've written for highlander100, during the last month, in my journal. Most of my drabbles tend to lean towards humour and silliness, but the last one is a tad angsty...
Chance Meetings 1: Highlander/Buffy
It was one of those awkward moments. She, with a stake hovering over my heart; I, catching my first breath on a morgue slab.
“You’re breathing again,” she stated.
There didn’t seem much point in denying it. “Yes”
“Do you do that often?”
"What, breathe?"
Her lips fell into a flat line. “Die.”
I shrugged in answer. “You?”
What about me?”
Wordlessly, my eyes flitted to the stake pressed into my chest. The pressure eased and a wary silence fell as we both shifted uncomfortably, wondering what to do next.
“I’m Adam,” I ventured
“Buffy.”
“So…Buffy…”
“Uhuh?”
"This never happened?"
Chance Meetings 2: Highlander/Dark Angel
The ropes creaked ominously as they dangled, nose to nose, from the ceiling.
“I was here first.”
“Not again.” The thought flitted through Amanda’s mind as she eyed her competition. Was it her imagination, or were the criminal element in Seattle getting younger? “I’d love to stay and debate the matter, darling, but we’ve both got a deadline to meet.” Pointedly, she glanced at the clock, reminding the young woman that the guard was about to start his rounds again.
A frown marred the girl’s perfect features. “Split the diff?”
“Deal! Amanda Darieux, at your service.”
“Max…Max Guevera.”
They grinned.
Chance meetings 3: Highlander/Doctor Who
The quickening’s aftermath still flashed in his mind, but something told Duncan that it hadn't a connection with the object that had materialised in the alley. “Huh, I haven’t seen one of those in a while.”
It's door opened abruptly, and the Highlander took a step back as an angular face popped out. “Hullo there, nice day isn’t it?” The stranger beamed genially. “Is this Margate?”
Uncomfortably aware of the headless body at his feet, Duncan cleared his throat. “Um…no, this is Paris”
“Ah, sorry to have troubled you, carry on.”
Bemused, Duncan watched as the police box faded away.
Smell: A hint of lavender...
“Paris in the rain, funny how they never mention the damp.”
Absently, Amanda watched the rain streak the windowpane as she waited for her coffee to arrive, her hand absently toying with the small bouquet placed in the centre of the table. “At least the café has central heating,” she thought as she pulled a stalk of lavender from the vase and rolled it between her finger and thumb.
“Rebecca.”
Her eyes stung as the delicate scent of bruised lavender dissolved the centuries and clutched at her heart.
“I miss you”
Blinking, she laid the stalk gently on the table.