50 ficlets update
Ficlets for this week:
Prompt 48: Talk to Me
Does Mr Sullivan really hate Kenny?
Must Try Harder
(928 words, All ages. Kenny Phillips, Lynda Day, Mr Sullivan, Mr Winters. In S1 Kenny claims that Sullivan hates him. Given that Kenny’s one of the brightest students, and Mr Sullivan one of the best teachers, this seemed in need of explanation…)
Prompt 05: Will Never Be
It only takes a couple of days for Kenny and Lynda to break the friendship of a lifetime, and all over a piece of paper. Or maybe it’s more complicated than that.
Nails and Horseshoes
(994 words, PG, Kenny Phillips, Lynda Day, Spike Thomson. AU S5 in which Kenny didn’t go to Australia. Given where the series ends up, would something like this have happened?)
(I had real trouble keeping the second one down to the word limit, so I hope it does still make sense. I think so, but then I know what I meant to write... Edit: I gave in - version with 1000 extra words below the cut.)
PG, 1995 words.
***
Kenny: “What I had in mind was a more personal, sincere apology.”
Lynda: “I told you. It’s in your in-tray.”
Kenny: “Why do you have absolutely no conception of the responsibilities of friendship?” (S3, Chance Is A Fine Thing)
*
The argument had been ongoing all morning, and it was degenerating into childishness. Kenny was willing to give up now, his mind on other things, but Lynda hadn’t finished yet, and all over his idle suggestion that they change the page for the crossword.
“It’s a stupid idea!”
“Lynda. It was my idea.”
“Exactly.”
Kenny frowned, as he searched the desk. “Anyway, never mind that - have you seen a piece of paper lying about? I left it here yesterday, before you ordered me off to cover the fete.”
She glanced up at the piles of A4 sheets all around them. “You could be more specific.”
“Yellow paper, with a telephone number on it.”
“Oh, that,” she said, returning to her article. “I threw it away.”
Kenny disappeared under the desk, grabbing at the wastepaper bin and scavenging through it cautiously.
“Yesterday,” she said, with impatience in her voice. “It’ll be gone by now.”
He dropped it, and stood up. “Lynda, that had Kelly’s details on it!”
“Who?”
He leant over the desk. “My wrong number. You remember. I told you we met up the other week -.”
“Oh, please,” she said. “You really have to get over that.”
Kenny remained still. “Lynda, where is it?”
“I told you. I don’t see why you’re so worried about it. You can’t seriously expect to build a relationship on one lousy misrouted call, can you? If she’s interested, she’ll call you.”
“Lynda, this isn’t funny. She doesn’t have my number!”
“Okay then, Kenny. I’ll find a time machine, go back to yesterday and get it for you. Now, stop making a fuss!”
Kenny drew back. “I will, provided you apologise.”
“Well, that won’t help, will it?”
“You know,” he said, glowering, “every time I think I’ve seen you at your worst, Lynda, you prove me wrong. Tell me where you hid it!”
She huffed. “I said, I threw it away, okay? And, Kenny, I don’t think we can print this.” She tore up Geoff’s article and handed it to him in pieces, which seemed to be symbolic of just about everything.
*
“How long are you going to keep this up?” she demanded, the following evening. “You know I hate it when you sulk.”
Kenny glanced up from correcting roughs, after an exaggerated pause. “Did you say something, Lynda? An apology for ruining my life, maybe?”
“Don’t be so wet, Kenny.”
He held the paper between them. “In that case, whatever it is, you can put it in my in-tray.”
*
The next morning, he was still ignoring her except for Junior Gazette business, and she found something sitting in her in-tray. It was his resignation.
Lynda ripped it in half and shoved it back in his with GROW UP, PHILLIPS scribbled on it, in red.
The following morning, there was another copy in hers.
“This is stupid,” she announced, when he walked in.
He shrugged, as he crossed over to his desk. “It might be, but I mean it, Lynda. If you want me here, you only have to say one little word. You know the one - or maybe you don’t?”
“Don’t be so patronising, Kenny. It’s not as if you’ve got anything to be so high-and-mighty about. You’re a complete loser. You always have been.”
“Then you’ll be glad to see the back of me,” he returned, with a smile.
“One stupid bit of paper,” she muttered. “I didn’t know it was important.”
Kenny took his seat. “Spare me. I know your games, remember? You didn’t like my suggestion for the paper, so you paid me out by getting rid of the number. Fine. Only now I want an apology. If you don’t value our friendship even that much, let’s forget it.”
“You don’t have to resign,” she said. “We could have a purely business relationship.”
She still managed to take his breath away, even now.
“Well?”
He got to his feet. “Lynda, do you have any idea - any idea at all - about common decency and what it means to be a friend? You’re an utterly selfish, heartless bitch!”
“Hey, isn’t that my line?” said Spike, who’d been approaching with a rough draft of an article in his hands. “Right. I take it this is a bad time.”
Lynda smiled at him. “No, it’s a perfect time, Spike. Kenny wasn’t talking about anything that mattered. He’s only getting huffy over nothing again.”
“Yeah,” agreed Kenny, shoving his chair back, and getting up. “Friendship is irrelevant, isn’t it, Lynda? As soon as it’s inconvenient, you don’t want to know.”
She was on her feet now, and she swung around. “Oh? Is that right? And can you tell me, Kenny, what it is we’re arguing about? I bet you’ve forgotten already!”
“So, you see, we thought Currie was up to his neck in it, and… neither of you are paying me any attention, are you?” Spike sighed, and examined the ceiling with interest. This was not how arguments in the newsroom usually went. Generally speaking, he was a competitor, not a spectator in the sport.
“Yes, Lynda, I do,” Kenny said. “I’ve got a problem with your petty, obsessive need to ruin everyone else’s love life, all because your own is such a mess!”
Spike folded his arms. “Hey. I object to that. I think.”
“I don’t see what you’re so cross about,” she shot back. “Think of it this way: I saved you from being dumped again.”
“Who says?”
“I say. What sane girl would ever want to go out with you? Not for long, anyway. Do I need to go through the list again?”
He slammed his pen down on the desk, and then glared at her. “Well, I don’t know, Lynda, but then again, what do you know about sanity?”
“Hey!”
“Shut up, Spike!” snapped Lynda.
He shuffled back to his seat. “Well, I want it noted that I attempted to come to your defense, even though the man has a fair point -.”
“Spike!”
Kenny faced Lynda, in full view of the newsroom. “I’ve handed in my resignation, and I’m going. It’s been almost a lifetime, Lynda, and I think it’s time to get out of your way before you steamroller right over me in your haste to get to the top -.”
“I think you’ll find that’s a mixed metaphor. You’re slipping, Phillips.”
He didn’t back down, although usually that would be enough to make him grin. “I don’t care. That’s it. If you really want to make me change my mind, then all you have to do is say sorry.” There. He’d said it out loud, in front of the newsroom, and that made it war.
“I’d rather go on a date with Colin!”
“What?” came an alarmed yelp from the other side of the newsroom. “Lynda, you don’t mean it -.”
She glanced aside briefly to yell back, “Get lost, Colin!” Then she folded her arms and looked at Kenny. “I haven’t done anything worth apologising for, so forget it, Kenny. You might as well start packing now. You’re not blackmailing me into anything.”
“Kenny, are you sure you don’t want to think about this?” asked Sarah, warningly.
He shook his head, and then walked away from Lynda. He knew exactly what he’d done.
“Moron,” said Lynda, to his retreating back.
*
“Lynda,” said Sarah. “I’m not saying you should apologise to Kenny, although, actually, I do think you should apologise to Kenny -.”
“You would. You’re as pathetic as he is. In fact, you’re both so pathetic I don’t know why you don’t both get together and leave me in peace.”
Sarah paused. “Okay, Lynda. What I was trying to say, was even if you won’t do that, can’t you do something more - well - more you?”
“Oh?” said Lynda, frowning at her, but intrigued now.
She smiled. “Lynda, no one is more devious, manipulative, ruthless and underhanded than you. Don’t tell me you couldn’t stop Kenny leaving if you wanted.”
“Well, maybe I don’t want to,” she returned. “Maybe I’ve had enough of being followed around by a spineless, sniping Jiminy Cricket.”
Sarah flared up. “Sometimes I don’t believe you, Lynda Day! You realise Kenny’s serious this time, don’t you?”
“Of course I do, Sarah. He's always serious. That's half his problem.”
She glared. “If you can’t be nice, be evil. I know you can do it.”
“Thanks,” said Lynda. "I just don't think he's worth it."
*
“Don’t tell me,” said Kenny. “Lynda sent you round here to try and change my mind.”
Spike shifted uncomfortably, pacing about Kenny’s bedroom. “Sort of. More the rest of the newsroom begging me to stop you abandoning them. Look, I think you’re right, and Lynda’s wrong, but can’t you two kids make up?”
“Don’t we usually do this the other way around?” asked Kenny, with a grin.
Spike shrugged. “Yeah, but you know Lynda. This is killing my love life, Kenny. Spare a thought for your old buddy Spike. Expecting an apology out of Lynda is like waiting for the leopard to change his shorts, or whatever.”
“That’s the deal,” said Kenny, picking up a book.
His expression changed, and he stopped. “Hey. You’re doing this because you want to go?”
“I don’t know,” Kenny returned, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe I have to. Spike, it’s up to her. There’s nothing Lynda won’t do if she wants something -.”
“Except let somebody else win,” said Spike. “You sure about this, Kenny?”
He looked up. “My whole life, there’s almost nothing of mine she hasn’t tried to break, one way or another.”
“Isn’t that a bit harsh?”
“Spike, we’re talking about Lynda here.”
He made a face. “Yeah, right. Must have been forgetting.”
*
“Boss,” said Kenny, once he’d packed everything, moving over to her side. “One last chance: write it down. Put it in my in-tray. I won’t breathe a word. We both win.”
She glared up at him. “Oh, regretting this, are you? Well, don’t come crawling to me now, Phillips. Actually, I can’t wait till you get out of here. Do you know how depressing it’s been looking at your glum face for the last four weeks?”
“Right,” said Kenny, withdrawing, and pushing the swear box over to her side. “Take care, Lynda. Try not to kill anyone, especially not your friends. You don’t have many left.”
She faced him. “Oh, are you still here, Kenny?”
“Nearly gone, don’t worry.”
She looked down, and then back up again. “You know, before you do, there’s something I should say. I mean, we’ve been friends for years, and it shouldn’t end like this, so -.”
“Lynda?”
Lynda looked him in the eye. “I hate you!”
“You know what’s funny, boss?” said Kenny, picking up the last box. “I wish I could say the same.”
Once he’d turned his back on her, she closed her eyes, putting a hand to her forehead, but Lynda Day wasn’t crying.
*
“Happy now?” said Spike, at the doorway to the newsroom, later, when everyone else had gone. “You should be. You’ve driven away the best friend you ever had. Way better than you deserved. Congratulations, Lynda!”
She lifted her chin, her eyes dark. “Shut up, Spike.”
“Lynda,” he said moving further in. “Come on. This is Kenny. Go after him. Swallow your crazy pride this once. You can still get him back.”
She darted a killing glance at him. “I said, shut up. I never want to speak about Kenny Phillips again, ever. If you want to help, then find me an assistant editor - a better one. That shouldn’t be too hard!”
“There’s no talking to you, is there?” said Spike, moving back in disgust. “Fine. One last thing, though. Maybe your warped brain can’t admit it, but you lost. He got out of your clutches, scot free, and you - you got a vacancy you’re never gonna fill. Trust me: Kenny won.”
The door swung on its hinges as he left.
Alone in the gloom, Lynda shrugged. “Maybe I let him,” she muttered.
***
Prompt 48: Talk to Me
Does Mr Sullivan really hate Kenny?
Must Try Harder
(928 words, All ages. Kenny Phillips, Lynda Day, Mr Sullivan, Mr Winters. In S1 Kenny claims that Sullivan hates him. Given that Kenny’s one of the brightest students, and Mr Sullivan one of the best teachers, this seemed in need of explanation…)
Prompt 05: Will Never Be
It only takes a couple of days for Kenny and Lynda to break the friendship of a lifetime, and all over a piece of paper. Or maybe it’s more complicated than that.
Nails and Horseshoes
(994 words, PG, Kenny Phillips, Lynda Day, Spike Thomson. AU S5 in which Kenny didn’t go to Australia. Given where the series ends up, would something like this have happened?)
(I had real trouble keeping the second one down to the word limit, so I hope it does still make sense. I think so, but then I know what I meant to write... Edit: I gave in - version with 1000 extra words below the cut.)
PG, 1995 words.
***
Kenny: “What I had in mind was a more personal, sincere apology.”
Lynda: “I told you. It’s in your in-tray.”
Kenny: “Why do you have absolutely no conception of the responsibilities of friendship?” (S3, Chance Is A Fine Thing)
*
The argument had been ongoing all morning, and it was degenerating into childishness. Kenny was willing to give up now, his mind on other things, but Lynda hadn’t finished yet, and all over his idle suggestion that they change the page for the crossword.
“It’s a stupid idea!”
“Lynda. It was my idea.”
“Exactly.”
Kenny frowned, as he searched the desk. “Anyway, never mind that - have you seen a piece of paper lying about? I left it here yesterday, before you ordered me off to cover the fete.”
She glanced up at the piles of A4 sheets all around them. “You could be more specific.”
“Yellow paper, with a telephone number on it.”
“Oh, that,” she said, returning to her article. “I threw it away.”
Kenny disappeared under the desk, grabbing at the wastepaper bin and scavenging through it cautiously.
“Yesterday,” she said, with impatience in her voice. “It’ll be gone by now.”
He dropped it, and stood up. “Lynda, that had Kelly’s details on it!”
“Who?”
He leant over the desk. “My wrong number. You remember. I told you we met up the other week -.”
“Oh, please,” she said. “You really have to get over that.”
Kenny remained still. “Lynda, where is it?”
“I told you. I don’t see why you’re so worried about it. You can’t seriously expect to build a relationship on one lousy misrouted call, can you? If she’s interested, she’ll call you.”
“Lynda, this isn’t funny. She doesn’t have my number!”
“Okay then, Kenny. I’ll find a time machine, go back to yesterday and get it for you. Now, stop making a fuss!”
Kenny drew back. “I will, provided you apologise.”
“Well, that won’t help, will it?”
“You know,” he said, glowering, “every time I think I’ve seen you at your worst, Lynda, you prove me wrong. Tell me where you hid it!”
She huffed. “I said, I threw it away, okay? And, Kenny, I don’t think we can print this.” She tore up Geoff’s article and handed it to him in pieces, which seemed to be symbolic of just about everything.
*
“How long are you going to keep this up?” she demanded, the following evening. “You know I hate it when you sulk.”
Kenny glanced up from correcting roughs, after an exaggerated pause. “Did you say something, Lynda? An apology for ruining my life, maybe?”
“Don’t be so wet, Kenny.”
He held the paper between them. “In that case, whatever it is, you can put it in my in-tray.”
*
The next morning, he was still ignoring her except for Junior Gazette business, and she found something sitting in her in-tray. It was his resignation.
Lynda ripped it in half and shoved it back in his with GROW UP, PHILLIPS scribbled on it, in red.
The following morning, there was another copy in hers.
“This is stupid,” she announced, when he walked in.
He shrugged, as he crossed over to his desk. “It might be, but I mean it, Lynda. If you want me here, you only have to say one little word. You know the one - or maybe you don’t?”
“Don’t be so patronising, Kenny. It’s not as if you’ve got anything to be so high-and-mighty about. You’re a complete loser. You always have been.”
“Then you’ll be glad to see the back of me,” he returned, with a smile.
“One stupid bit of paper,” she muttered. “I didn’t know it was important.”
Kenny took his seat. “Spare me. I know your games, remember? You didn’t like my suggestion for the paper, so you paid me out by getting rid of the number. Fine. Only now I want an apology. If you don’t value our friendship even that much, let’s forget it.”
“You don’t have to resign,” she said. “We could have a purely business relationship.”
She still managed to take his breath away, even now.
“Well?”
He got to his feet. “Lynda, do you have any idea - any idea at all - about common decency and what it means to be a friend? You’re an utterly selfish, heartless bitch!”
“Hey, isn’t that my line?” said Spike, who’d been approaching with a rough draft of an article in his hands. “Right. I take it this is a bad time.”
Lynda smiled at him. “No, it’s a perfect time, Spike. Kenny wasn’t talking about anything that mattered. He’s only getting huffy over nothing again.”
“Yeah,” agreed Kenny, shoving his chair back, and getting up. “Friendship is irrelevant, isn’t it, Lynda? As soon as it’s inconvenient, you don’t want to know.”
She was on her feet now, and she swung around. “Oh? Is that right? And can you tell me, Kenny, what it is we’re arguing about? I bet you’ve forgotten already!”
“So, you see, we thought Currie was up to his neck in it, and… neither of you are paying me any attention, are you?” Spike sighed, and examined the ceiling with interest. This was not how arguments in the newsroom usually went. Generally speaking, he was a competitor, not a spectator in the sport.
“Yes, Lynda, I do,” Kenny said. “I’ve got a problem with your petty, obsessive need to ruin everyone else’s love life, all because your own is such a mess!”
Spike folded his arms. “Hey. I object to that. I think.”
“I don’t see what you’re so cross about,” she shot back. “Think of it this way: I saved you from being dumped again.”
“Who says?”
“I say. What sane girl would ever want to go out with you? Not for long, anyway. Do I need to go through the list again?”
He slammed his pen down on the desk, and then glared at her. “Well, I don’t know, Lynda, but then again, what do you know about sanity?”
“Hey!”
“Shut up, Spike!” snapped Lynda.
He shuffled back to his seat. “Well, I want it noted that I attempted to come to your defense, even though the man has a fair point -.”
“Spike!”
Kenny faced Lynda, in full view of the newsroom. “I’ve handed in my resignation, and I’m going. It’s been almost a lifetime, Lynda, and I think it’s time to get out of your way before you steamroller right over me in your haste to get to the top -.”
“I think you’ll find that’s a mixed metaphor. You’re slipping, Phillips.”
He didn’t back down, although usually that would be enough to make him grin. “I don’t care. That’s it. If you really want to make me change my mind, then all you have to do is say sorry.” There. He’d said it out loud, in front of the newsroom, and that made it war.
“I’d rather go on a date with Colin!”
“What?” came an alarmed yelp from the other side of the newsroom. “Lynda, you don’t mean it -.”
She glanced aside briefly to yell back, “Get lost, Colin!” Then she folded her arms and looked at Kenny. “I haven’t done anything worth apologising for, so forget it, Kenny. You might as well start packing now. You’re not blackmailing me into anything.”
“Kenny, are you sure you don’t want to think about this?” asked Sarah, warningly.
He shook his head, and then walked away from Lynda. He knew exactly what he’d done.
“Moron,” said Lynda, to his retreating back.
*
“Lynda,” said Sarah. “I’m not saying you should apologise to Kenny, although, actually, I do think you should apologise to Kenny -.”
“You would. You’re as pathetic as he is. In fact, you’re both so pathetic I don’t know why you don’t both get together and leave me in peace.”
Sarah paused. “Okay, Lynda. What I was trying to say, was even if you won’t do that, can’t you do something more - well - more you?”
“Oh?” said Lynda, frowning at her, but intrigued now.
She smiled. “Lynda, no one is more devious, manipulative, ruthless and underhanded than you. Don’t tell me you couldn’t stop Kenny leaving if you wanted.”
“Well, maybe I don’t want to,” she returned. “Maybe I’ve had enough of being followed around by a spineless, sniping Jiminy Cricket.”
Sarah flared up. “Sometimes I don’t believe you, Lynda Day! You realise Kenny’s serious this time, don’t you?”
“Of course I do, Sarah. He's always serious. That's half his problem.”
She glared. “If you can’t be nice, be evil. I know you can do it.”
“Thanks,” said Lynda. "I just don't think he's worth it."
*
“Don’t tell me,” said Kenny. “Lynda sent you round here to try and change my mind.”
Spike shifted uncomfortably, pacing about Kenny’s bedroom. “Sort of. More the rest of the newsroom begging me to stop you abandoning them. Look, I think you’re right, and Lynda’s wrong, but can’t you two kids make up?”
“Don’t we usually do this the other way around?” asked Kenny, with a grin.
Spike shrugged. “Yeah, but you know Lynda. This is killing my love life, Kenny. Spare a thought for your old buddy Spike. Expecting an apology out of Lynda is like waiting for the leopard to change his shorts, or whatever.”
“That’s the deal,” said Kenny, picking up a book.
His expression changed, and he stopped. “Hey. You’re doing this because you want to go?”
“I don’t know,” Kenny returned, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe I have to. Spike, it’s up to her. There’s nothing Lynda won’t do if she wants something -.”
“Except let somebody else win,” said Spike. “You sure about this, Kenny?”
He looked up. “My whole life, there’s almost nothing of mine she hasn’t tried to break, one way or another.”
“Isn’t that a bit harsh?”
“Spike, we’re talking about Lynda here.”
He made a face. “Yeah, right. Must have been forgetting.”
*
“Boss,” said Kenny, once he’d packed everything, moving over to her side. “One last chance: write it down. Put it in my in-tray. I won’t breathe a word. We both win.”
She glared up at him. “Oh, regretting this, are you? Well, don’t come crawling to me now, Phillips. Actually, I can’t wait till you get out of here. Do you know how depressing it’s been looking at your glum face for the last four weeks?”
“Right,” said Kenny, withdrawing, and pushing the swear box over to her side. “Take care, Lynda. Try not to kill anyone, especially not your friends. You don’t have many left.”
She faced him. “Oh, are you still here, Kenny?”
“Nearly gone, don’t worry.”
She looked down, and then back up again. “You know, before you do, there’s something I should say. I mean, we’ve been friends for years, and it shouldn’t end like this, so -.”
“Lynda?”
Lynda looked him in the eye. “I hate you!”
“You know what’s funny, boss?” said Kenny, picking up the last box. “I wish I could say the same.”
Once he’d turned his back on her, she closed her eyes, putting a hand to her forehead, but Lynda Day wasn’t crying.
*
“Happy now?” said Spike, at the doorway to the newsroom, later, when everyone else had gone. “You should be. You’ve driven away the best friend you ever had. Way better than you deserved. Congratulations, Lynda!”
She lifted her chin, her eyes dark. “Shut up, Spike.”
“Lynda,” he said moving further in. “Come on. This is Kenny. Go after him. Swallow your crazy pride this once. You can still get him back.”
She darted a killing glance at him. “I said, shut up. I never want to speak about Kenny Phillips again, ever. If you want to help, then find me an assistant editor - a better one. That shouldn’t be too hard!”
“There’s no talking to you, is there?” said Spike, moving back in disgust. “Fine. One last thing, though. Maybe your warped brain can’t admit it, but you lost. He got out of your clutches, scot free, and you - you got a vacancy you’re never gonna fill. Trust me: Kenny won.”
The door swung on its hinges as he left.
Alone in the gloom, Lynda shrugged. “Maybe I let him,” she muttered.
***