[Witches' Horses] Sibir
Title: raiding the stores
'Verse/characters: Sibir; Katusha, Nadya, a sergeant
Prompt: 24D "want"
Word Count: 426
Notes: expanded from the sparks "battlefield communications" and "the wrong trap".
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"Talk to me," the mouse whispered in her ear, and Katya shivered involuntarily, flattening herself against a wall.
"Still working on the red," she replied as soft as she could, carefully inching past another mini-fortification and then ducked backwards as one of the enemy turned the corner.
She let out a shaky breath. "Are you sure we can't just ask?" she whispered, flattened against the plastic slats and hoping the sergeant wouldn't look down this particular corridor.
Nadya's silvery laughter tickled the hairs in her ear. "It's better if it's a surprise."
"Aye, sir," Katya muttered automatically, sighed, and checked for the sergeant again.
He was gone, so she inched out again and kept going.
She had all of her pockets stuffed, the apron, and the big jacket she'd borrowed when Nadya talked her into this' pockets, too, the last few pieces in her hands because she had nowhere else to put them.
Which was, of course, when she turned a corner and a bright light pinned her in place and a huge voice demanded "What do you think you're doing?"
She squeaked, dropped the jars in her hands, then covered her mouth with her hands and closed her eyes.
" . . . Wait, you're not one of the kids." The big light clicked off, and she heard solder's boots clumping up to her, before a gentler voice asked "What on earth are you doing, miss?"
She squeaked again, not even opening her eyes as she backed up into a storage-bank; something made an ominous teetering noise over her head.
"Pass me over to him, Katusha," Nadya said, and Katya automatically opened her eyes, plucked the mouse off her ear, and held it out to the worried-looking sergeant.
"I'm listening," he said as automatically as she'd passed it over, holding the mouse to his ear.
"Really. Mm-hmm. And you didn't--I see. No, no, I'll--young lady, if you get anyone to touch my supply of apples nothing in the world would--really." Katya watched his face turn thoughtful. "You actually got your hands on--no, no I wouldn't have thought of that one. Well played. Mmhmm. I'll bring the apples by myself so no-one else gets a look. Yes. Later--" he passed the mouse back to Katya, who could hear Nadya laughing even before she put it back on, then knelt and picked up the jars of fruit she'd dropped.
"Next time, just ask, girls," he said, smiling. "Especially if it's because you're baking."
Katya nodded violently, thinking that Nadya was going to lose several of the saints-day treats to her nerves.
'Verse/characters: Sibir; Katusha, Nadya, a sergeant
Prompt: 24D "want"
Word Count: 426
Notes: expanded from the sparks "battlefield communications" and "the wrong trap".
---------
"Talk to me," the mouse whispered in her ear, and Katya shivered involuntarily, flattening herself against a wall.
"Still working on the red," she replied as soft as she could, carefully inching past another mini-fortification and then ducked backwards as one of the enemy turned the corner.
She let out a shaky breath. "Are you sure we can't just ask?" she whispered, flattened against the plastic slats and hoping the sergeant wouldn't look down this particular corridor.
Nadya's silvery laughter tickled the hairs in her ear. "It's better if it's a surprise."
"Aye, sir," Katya muttered automatically, sighed, and checked for the sergeant again.
He was gone, so she inched out again and kept going.
She had all of her pockets stuffed, the apron, and the big jacket she'd borrowed when Nadya talked her into this' pockets, too, the last few pieces in her hands because she had nowhere else to put them.
Which was, of course, when she turned a corner and a bright light pinned her in place and a huge voice demanded "What do you think you're doing?"
She squeaked, dropped the jars in her hands, then covered her mouth with her hands and closed her eyes.
" . . . Wait, you're not one of the kids." The big light clicked off, and she heard solder's boots clumping up to her, before a gentler voice asked "What on earth are you doing, miss?"
She squeaked again, not even opening her eyes as she backed up into a storage-bank; something made an ominous teetering noise over her head.
"Pass me over to him, Katusha," Nadya said, and Katya automatically opened her eyes, plucked the mouse off her ear, and held it out to the worried-looking sergeant.
"I'm listening," he said as automatically as she'd passed it over, holding the mouse to his ear.
"Really. Mm-hmm. And you didn't--I see. No, no, I'll--young lady, if you get anyone to touch my supply of apples nothing in the world would--really." Katya watched his face turn thoughtful. "You actually got your hands on--no, no I wouldn't have thought of that one. Well played. Mmhmm. I'll bring the apples by myself so no-one else gets a look. Yes. Later--" he passed the mouse back to Katya, who could hear Nadya laughing even before she put it back on, then knelt and picked up the jars of fruit she'd dropped.
"Next time, just ask, girls," he said, smiling. "Especially if it's because you're baking."
Katya nodded violently, thinking that Nadya was going to lose several of the saints-day treats to her nerves.