Dabbles in Drabbles
Since I've been in dire need of a serious kick in the muse, I decided to buckle down and attempt the drabble challenge that's been going around (most recently, I think I saw commasplice103 do it) Since a couple of these fall within the parameters of passion_perfect's latest challenge, I figure I can kick two stones with one boot.
I'm afraid I didn't stick to the rules too closely.
The fandoms are: Law and Order: SVU, ER, SG-1, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Voyager, Criminal Minds, Dracula: The Legacy, Angel, Xena: Warrior Princess, and Law and Order: Trial By Jury
Disclaimer: All characters belong to their respective creators. Just playing in the virtual sandbox for a while.
Archive: Passion and Perfection
Note: These are not beta'd, so all errors are mine.
Rating: I should think it doesn't go much beyond PG-13ish.
Comments and criticism are always welcome.
1. Casey Novak, Law and Order: SVU
-The Treason of Isengard, Fellowship of the Ring soundtrack
Snow, cold and grey filtered across the landscape, blurring the scene that spread before her. Flares of crimson danced with cerulean as the lights from assorted emergency vehicles strobed through the twilight.
Charcoal tarpaulins obscured the gore, but could not hide the horror. Five little forms splayed like the fingers of an unholy hand, reaching for the doors of a gothic cathedral. Agonized weeping played a weird counterpoint to the show tunes blaring from the radio.
Looking on from the backseat of the taxi, Casey trembled with the need to leap into the fray. The desire to act, to do something that might alleviate the frozen expressions of nausea that masked the faces of both emergency personnel and onlooker alike, rose thickly in her. Every instinct screamed that this was sure to be one Hell of a case.
Forcing herself to turn away, Casey sighed with near regret. This was not her job. This was not her life. Someone else would have to deal with it. She was going home. Glancing down at the message displayed on her phone - Something came up; don’t lose sleep on my account. - Casey pressed “reply” and typed, Good luck.
2. Kerry Weaver, ER
-Overdue Goodbye (reprise), Anastacia
The road rolls in an ever expanding ribbon of black as Chicago vanishes behind them.
Every yesterday’s yesterday is left in that cold, crazy city. Ahead, lays heat, light, and Miami sun.
Beside her, hope, promise, and the future flourish in the warm smile curving a shapely mouth.
In the backseat, Henry chuckles at Courtney’s latest animal mimicry and even Kerry has to laugh at her lover’s less than perfect rendition of a hungry bear.
3. Samantha Carter, SG-1
-Son of the Sea, Ken Theriot
Earth recedes. The great blue marble that hovers between Venus and Mars soon fades. Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter exhales softly, her breath clouding the porthole. It’s always like this. Leaving home to face the mighty hoards of Goa’uld, Ori, Replicators, or whatever other evil the universe breeds, always gives Sam one precious moment to look upon the world of her birth.
Some days, she wonders if she could do it alone. If she could wake every morning in an empty home and face the hoards of evil that hid behind every star. Many members of the various SG teams prefer the single life, but Sam can’t imagine not having something to defend.
Closing her eyes, Sam recalls sunlight on thick, ruddy hair. Stray grays peek out, colored silver by the warm, bright light.
Birds piping the call of spring, the faint hint of burnt toast from Cassie’s hurried breakfast, and the bitter aftertaste of sleep commingle in the astrophysicist’s memory. The alarm clicks on, spewing out an unholy ruckus of sound.
The blankets rustle and then, a heavy, sleep riddled voice groans, “Oh God, make it stop.”
Laughing, Sam reaches over Janet’s shoulders and taps a button, killing the noise.
“Have I ever mentioned how much I love you?” Janet rolls over and blinks wearily at Sam.
Sam’s smile only grows wider. “I think so.”
“Oh good. Now, c’mere and kiss me goodbye sailor.”
“That’s flyboy to you, woman,” Sam replies in a half insulted, half amused tone.
“Yo, Earth to Carter! Are you ready or am I supposed to figure out how to blow this rock on my own?” Mitchell’s voice cuts through the static of memory and Sam pushes away from the window.
Shouldering her pack, she shouts, “Keep your pants on, Cam! I’m ready.” Stepping up beside Mitchell, Vala and Jackson, Carter grins. “Let’s go make space dust.”
4. Buffy Summers, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
-Darfus, X:WP Soundtrack
Blood pumps from the demon like the bellows of a blacksmith’s forge, yet it refuses to die. Shivering in the chill, Buffy watches as Faith circles the colossus that calls itself a minion to the latest Big Bad Scary Evil Mastermind to infest itself upon the world.
“Yo, tall, dark, and nasty - you just gonna stand there like a lump or what?” Faith twirls her sword lazily and the creature snarls, but doesn’t attack. It’s already learned a painful lesson about the skills of the slayers.
Buffy sighs. Faith seems bent on taunting the creature to death but the blonde slayer has other ideas.
“Faith, just kill the damned thing. My ass is about to turn into an icicle.”
Faith smirks, shrugs nonchalantly, and then turns a rather evil grin on the creature. “You heard the lady, ugly man. It’s time to die. Y’see, I’m rather fond of that ass.”
As they limp away from the warehouse, Faith drapes her jacket over Buffy’s shoulders.
“This would be a whole lot more chivalrous without the slime,” Buffy grouses softly, even as she draws the warm leather close.
Chuckling, Faith says, “Hey, love me, love my slime.”
“Ew. Not. There will be showers, and maybe even showers on top of showers before I even think about going there, Faith.”
“Aw, don’t you like my snail impersonation, B?”
“Faith-“
“Heh.”
5. Seven of Nine, Star Trek: Voyager
-Going Home, Mary Fahl
Fierce hands gripped her shoulders as she watched the readouts displayed on the Astrometrics board.
“Is that for real?” came the whispered query. Ragged, and lost, the words barely seemed to ruffle the air around Seven of Nine’s body.
“Indeed,” she replied, pulling away from Lieutenant Torres’ clutching hands. “It appears that we have found a wormhole to the Alpha Quadrant.”
The news spread throughout Voyager in a matter of minutes. Even before Seven had compiled the data into a logistically accurate and factually efficient report, the entirety of the ship’s command crew were cluttering up her lab. Pushing aside the entirely too human desire to roll her eyes, Seven of Nine calmly said, “It is unknown whether this wormhole is stable enough to allow Voyager to traverse it.”
Captain Janeway smiled, even as the others started to complain. “Then you’d better get started on finding out if we can use it, because by God, I mean to see us home.”
Perplexed, Seven looked first at her captain and then at B’Elanna. With a frown furrowing her brow, the former Borg quietly said, “I was unaware that home was someplace other than where you are loved.”
An odd look of sadness crossed Janeway’s face before she replied, “For the lucky ones, Seven. Only for the lucky ones.” Then she turned away, unable to watch as Seven and B’Elanna bent their heads together and headed for engineering, already working out the programming for the first of ten probes. Soon, the others drifted away, leaving only Ensign Kim, who was far too lost in his own dreams of home, and Chakotay, to share the view with the captain.
6. Derek Morgan, Criminal Minds
-Skye Boat Song, William Jackson
“Is she humming?” Derek Morgan scrunched up as close to Spencer Reid as he could get, and spoke in a tone that was a hair above silence. Prodding his colleague’s shoulder, he nodded in the direction of the dark haired woman hunched in the seat across the aisle from them. Sprawled on her lap, Agent Jennifer Jareau’s bruised face was finally relaxed in sleep.
Cocking his head slightly, Reid struggled to hear above the dull thrum of jet engines.
“I think so,” he finally said, his face screwing up in concentration.
“You think we should wake them?” David Rossi joined the conversation, a wry smile twitching at the corners of his lips.
“Oh no,” Morgan said, holding up his hands. “I am not going to be the one to wake either of them after they’ve just spent the last five days in the company of one sick son of a bitch. Let them have some peace.”
“Aw, where’s your sense of adventure?” the older agent said, mischief stripping years from his face.
“Right now? It’s about two hundred miles, five sleepless nights, and one seriously messed up serial killer back that way,” replied Morgan softly as he jerked his thumb in a vaguely southern direction.
All three men’s faces lost any hue of amusement as they recalled the events of the past week. Within the sudden quiet, Emily’s humming resolved itself into a lullaby that soon had everyone blinking and yawning sleepily. A few minutes later, soft snores filled the cabin.
7. Elizabeth Blaine, Dracula III (Character is as she appears in my fic, Resurrection is for the Unbelievers)
-Ticket to Heaven, 3 Doors Down
Flowers? No. Candy? No. Damn, what the hell do you get a surly ex cop who you’ve managed to piss off every which way from Sunday when all you really want to do is go home and ravish her silly? Perusing the wares at the all night stop ‘n rob, Elizabeth’s gaze flicked about until she settled upon a wind up toy in the shape of an anatomically correct heart. It was all that remained of a picked over Valentine’s display.
Pursing her lips, she gave the winder a few twists and let it go. A ratcheting sound that she supposed was meant to mimic a true heartbeat rattled the bright red plastic for a few seconds, and then it shuddered once, stopped and cracked open to reveal a tiny golden key strung on a chain.
“Oh God, how fucking cute is that?” she muttered as she grabbed the toy and headed for the counter.
The clerk, bored near to mummification, snapped to attention when he saw his customer’s choice.
“Very good, ma’am,” he said, his thick accent putting Elizabeth in mind of spicy curry and strong tea. “Would you like the box?” He held one up as an example. The colors of the cheap packaging were garish enough to make Elizabeth wish she’d remembered her sunglasses.
“Sure. And you’d better give me a couple of roses too.” She hung her head and sighed. “I really gotta learn to pay more attention to the date.”
8. Gabrielle, Xena: Warrior Princess
-Once in a Garden, Blackmore’s Night
If there was anything Gabrielle hated more than rainy days, it was the days when the sun was so bright it felt like she was walking through the heart of a candle flame. Shading her eyes against the light, she peered ahead, just able to make out the hazy form of her companion.
Argo needs to run, my ass, thought the bard as she gave a surly harrumph. Xena needs to go pick a fight is more like it.
Coming from a small town where the biggest entertainment was the annual sheep shearing, Gabrielle easily recognized boredom.
Why can’t she just pick flowers like the rest of us? I am so not in the mood to scrub brigand blood out of my bodice tonight. Sighing heavily as the distant ululation of Xena’s war cry trickled back to her, Gabrielle unsheathed her sai and started to run toward the fray.
Oh well, I guess it’s time to do the laundry.
9. Xena, Xena: Warrior Princess
-Deep As You Go, October Project
Why does she keep coming after me? Why can’t she just let me go? It’s probably the second or third time that Xena’s found herself facing certain death and yet there’s Gabrielle, arguing with the warlord of the week, trying to win her friend’s freedom.
It won’t work, but Xena can’t help but be impressed by the would-be bard’s rhetoric.
“If you kill her now, who are you going to compare yourself to when you’re telling stories for ales at the local warlord’s watering hole?” is Gabrielle’s latest query, which is met with a blank-eyed stare and then laughter from the warlord in question.
“Why, me of course!”
Gabrielle snorts. “You? Please, I could kick your ass. The only reason you have Xena right now is you cheated.”
The warlord’s face darkens, and for an instant, Xena feels the glacial hand of fear stretch its fingers through her chest. But then, something miraculous happens.
The warlord’s men begin to grumble. Finally one stands up and says, “The girl’s right, Andrus. Beat the bitch fair and square or you ain’t worth the clipped coppers you paid us.”
Well I’ll be a blue-eared donkey! Xena knows that the warlord will have to fight her again, and this time, no matter what, she’s going to kick his ass. Shooting a glance at her companion, she tries once more to fathom why Gabrielle would risk so much for her, and then, she sees it.
The young woman’s eyes radiate her relief even as she opens her mouth to add to Andrus’ troubles.
Better put a purple nose on that donkey, because I think someone loves me. Damn. Guess I’m just gonna have to get used to seeing her pretty face every day.
10. Tracey Kibre, Law and Order: Trial by Jury
-The Train Song, Jen Cass
Tracey Kibre had worked some shitty cases before, but this one truly ate the cupcake. The courtroom was hushed as second chair ADA Kelly Gaffney worked a little magic to pull a heart wrenching tale from the little boy sitting on the stand.
Hell of a thing to see, the ADA thought, even as she scribbled a few notes on the pad she and her co-chair shared. Kelly was better with kids. For some reason, Tracey always felt like she was the proverbial deer in the headlights of an onrushing train when faced with the round-eyed innocence of a child.
Or in this case, not so innocent. After witnessing his father first beat and then murder his mother, the boy had then somehow remained silent while the father raged through the house, destroying everything in his path. Hours later, after the man had drank himself into a stupor, the boy had crept out and ran to a neighbor, seeking help.
As Kelly wrapped up her questions, Tracey scrawled a final note - Dinner. 8pm. Pick someplace private. They both deserved some serious down time, especially since the next part was her job.
The crime scene photos. It’s a good thing we’ve already had the lunch break.
The defense council tried his best, but could in no way shake the boy's story. As the child traded places with the medical examiner, Tracey stood and nodded at the jury. Gathering her thoughts, she was brought up short by Kelly’s hastily scrawled response to her last note.
How does candles, a bathtub filled with bubbles, and pizza at my place sound?
Thought train thoroughly derailed, Tracey coughed softly and deliberately turned away from Kelly and fixed her gaze on the first of the photos.
In the back of her mind, she was already planning her revenge.
I'm afraid I didn't stick to the rules too closely.
The fandoms are: Law and Order: SVU, ER, SG-1, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Voyager, Criminal Minds, Dracula: The Legacy, Angel, Xena: Warrior Princess, and Law and Order: Trial By Jury
Disclaimer: All characters belong to their respective creators. Just playing in the virtual sandbox for a while.
Archive: Passion and Perfection
Note: These are not beta'd, so all errors are mine.
Rating: I should think it doesn't go much beyond PG-13ish.
Comments and criticism are always welcome.
1. Casey Novak, Law and Order: SVU
-The Treason of Isengard, Fellowship of the Ring soundtrack
Snow, cold and grey filtered across the landscape, blurring the scene that spread before her. Flares of crimson danced with cerulean as the lights from assorted emergency vehicles strobed through the twilight.
Charcoal tarpaulins obscured the gore, but could not hide the horror. Five little forms splayed like the fingers of an unholy hand, reaching for the doors of a gothic cathedral. Agonized weeping played a weird counterpoint to the show tunes blaring from the radio.
Looking on from the backseat of the taxi, Casey trembled with the need to leap into the fray. The desire to act, to do something that might alleviate the frozen expressions of nausea that masked the faces of both emergency personnel and onlooker alike, rose thickly in her. Every instinct screamed that this was sure to be one Hell of a case.
Forcing herself to turn away, Casey sighed with near regret. This was not her job. This was not her life. Someone else would have to deal with it. She was going home. Glancing down at the message displayed on her phone - Something came up; don’t lose sleep on my account. - Casey pressed “reply” and typed, Good luck.
2. Kerry Weaver, ER
-Overdue Goodbye (reprise), Anastacia
The road rolls in an ever expanding ribbon of black as Chicago vanishes behind them.
Every yesterday’s yesterday is left in that cold, crazy city. Ahead, lays heat, light, and Miami sun.
Beside her, hope, promise, and the future flourish in the warm smile curving a shapely mouth.
In the backseat, Henry chuckles at Courtney’s latest animal mimicry and even Kerry has to laugh at her lover’s less than perfect rendition of a hungry bear.
3. Samantha Carter, SG-1
-Son of the Sea, Ken Theriot
Earth recedes. The great blue marble that hovers between Venus and Mars soon fades. Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter exhales softly, her breath clouding the porthole. It’s always like this. Leaving home to face the mighty hoards of Goa’uld, Ori, Replicators, or whatever other evil the universe breeds, always gives Sam one precious moment to look upon the world of her birth.
Some days, she wonders if she could do it alone. If she could wake every morning in an empty home and face the hoards of evil that hid behind every star. Many members of the various SG teams prefer the single life, but Sam can’t imagine not having something to defend.
Closing her eyes, Sam recalls sunlight on thick, ruddy hair. Stray grays peek out, colored silver by the warm, bright light.
Birds piping the call of spring, the faint hint of burnt toast from Cassie’s hurried breakfast, and the bitter aftertaste of sleep commingle in the astrophysicist’s memory. The alarm clicks on, spewing out an unholy ruckus of sound.
The blankets rustle and then, a heavy, sleep riddled voice groans, “Oh God, make it stop.”
Laughing, Sam reaches over Janet’s shoulders and taps a button, killing the noise.
“Have I ever mentioned how much I love you?” Janet rolls over and blinks wearily at Sam.
Sam’s smile only grows wider. “I think so.”
“Oh good. Now, c’mere and kiss me goodbye sailor.”
“That’s flyboy to you, woman,” Sam replies in a half insulted, half amused tone.
“Yo, Earth to Carter! Are you ready or am I supposed to figure out how to blow this rock on my own?” Mitchell’s voice cuts through the static of memory and Sam pushes away from the window.
Shouldering her pack, she shouts, “Keep your pants on, Cam! I’m ready.” Stepping up beside Mitchell, Vala and Jackson, Carter grins. “Let’s go make space dust.”
4. Buffy Summers, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
-Darfus, X:WP Soundtrack
Blood pumps from the demon like the bellows of a blacksmith’s forge, yet it refuses to die. Shivering in the chill, Buffy watches as Faith circles the colossus that calls itself a minion to the latest Big Bad Scary Evil Mastermind to infest itself upon the world.
“Yo, tall, dark, and nasty - you just gonna stand there like a lump or what?” Faith twirls her sword lazily and the creature snarls, but doesn’t attack. It’s already learned a painful lesson about the skills of the slayers.
Buffy sighs. Faith seems bent on taunting the creature to death but the blonde slayer has other ideas.
“Faith, just kill the damned thing. My ass is about to turn into an icicle.”
Faith smirks, shrugs nonchalantly, and then turns a rather evil grin on the creature. “You heard the lady, ugly man. It’s time to die. Y’see, I’m rather fond of that ass.”
As they limp away from the warehouse, Faith drapes her jacket over Buffy’s shoulders.
“This would be a whole lot more chivalrous without the slime,” Buffy grouses softly, even as she draws the warm leather close.
Chuckling, Faith says, “Hey, love me, love my slime.”
“Ew. Not. There will be showers, and maybe even showers on top of showers before I even think about going there, Faith.”
“Aw, don’t you like my snail impersonation, B?”
“Faith-“
“Heh.”
5. Seven of Nine, Star Trek: Voyager
-Going Home, Mary Fahl
Fierce hands gripped her shoulders as she watched the readouts displayed on the Astrometrics board.
“Is that for real?” came the whispered query. Ragged, and lost, the words barely seemed to ruffle the air around Seven of Nine’s body.
“Indeed,” she replied, pulling away from Lieutenant Torres’ clutching hands. “It appears that we have found a wormhole to the Alpha Quadrant.”
The news spread throughout Voyager in a matter of minutes. Even before Seven had compiled the data into a logistically accurate and factually efficient report, the entirety of the ship’s command crew were cluttering up her lab. Pushing aside the entirely too human desire to roll her eyes, Seven of Nine calmly said, “It is unknown whether this wormhole is stable enough to allow Voyager to traverse it.”
Captain Janeway smiled, even as the others started to complain. “Then you’d better get started on finding out if we can use it, because by God, I mean to see us home.”
Perplexed, Seven looked first at her captain and then at B’Elanna. With a frown furrowing her brow, the former Borg quietly said, “I was unaware that home was someplace other than where you are loved.”
An odd look of sadness crossed Janeway’s face before she replied, “For the lucky ones, Seven. Only for the lucky ones.” Then she turned away, unable to watch as Seven and B’Elanna bent their heads together and headed for engineering, already working out the programming for the first of ten probes. Soon, the others drifted away, leaving only Ensign Kim, who was far too lost in his own dreams of home, and Chakotay, to share the view with the captain.
6. Derek Morgan, Criminal Minds
-Skye Boat Song, William Jackson
“Is she humming?” Derek Morgan scrunched up as close to Spencer Reid as he could get, and spoke in a tone that was a hair above silence. Prodding his colleague’s shoulder, he nodded in the direction of the dark haired woman hunched in the seat across the aisle from them. Sprawled on her lap, Agent Jennifer Jareau’s bruised face was finally relaxed in sleep.
Cocking his head slightly, Reid struggled to hear above the dull thrum of jet engines.
“I think so,” he finally said, his face screwing up in concentration.
“You think we should wake them?” David Rossi joined the conversation, a wry smile twitching at the corners of his lips.
“Oh no,” Morgan said, holding up his hands. “I am not going to be the one to wake either of them after they’ve just spent the last five days in the company of one sick son of a bitch. Let them have some peace.”
“Aw, where’s your sense of adventure?” the older agent said, mischief stripping years from his face.
“Right now? It’s about two hundred miles, five sleepless nights, and one seriously messed up serial killer back that way,” replied Morgan softly as he jerked his thumb in a vaguely southern direction.
All three men’s faces lost any hue of amusement as they recalled the events of the past week. Within the sudden quiet, Emily’s humming resolved itself into a lullaby that soon had everyone blinking and yawning sleepily. A few minutes later, soft snores filled the cabin.
7. Elizabeth Blaine, Dracula III (Character is as she appears in my fic, Resurrection is for the Unbelievers)
-Ticket to Heaven, 3 Doors Down
Flowers? No. Candy? No. Damn, what the hell do you get a surly ex cop who you’ve managed to piss off every which way from Sunday when all you really want to do is go home and ravish her silly? Perusing the wares at the all night stop ‘n rob, Elizabeth’s gaze flicked about until she settled upon a wind up toy in the shape of an anatomically correct heart. It was all that remained of a picked over Valentine’s display.
Pursing her lips, she gave the winder a few twists and let it go. A ratcheting sound that she supposed was meant to mimic a true heartbeat rattled the bright red plastic for a few seconds, and then it shuddered once, stopped and cracked open to reveal a tiny golden key strung on a chain.
“Oh God, how fucking cute is that?” she muttered as she grabbed the toy and headed for the counter.
The clerk, bored near to mummification, snapped to attention when he saw his customer’s choice.
“Very good, ma’am,” he said, his thick accent putting Elizabeth in mind of spicy curry and strong tea. “Would you like the box?” He held one up as an example. The colors of the cheap packaging were garish enough to make Elizabeth wish she’d remembered her sunglasses.
“Sure. And you’d better give me a couple of roses too.” She hung her head and sighed. “I really gotta learn to pay more attention to the date.”
8. Gabrielle, Xena: Warrior Princess
-Once in a Garden, Blackmore’s Night
If there was anything Gabrielle hated more than rainy days, it was the days when the sun was so bright it felt like she was walking through the heart of a candle flame. Shading her eyes against the light, she peered ahead, just able to make out the hazy form of her companion.
Argo needs to run, my ass, thought the bard as she gave a surly harrumph. Xena needs to go pick a fight is more like it.
Coming from a small town where the biggest entertainment was the annual sheep shearing, Gabrielle easily recognized boredom.
Why can’t she just pick flowers like the rest of us? I am so not in the mood to scrub brigand blood out of my bodice tonight. Sighing heavily as the distant ululation of Xena’s war cry trickled back to her, Gabrielle unsheathed her sai and started to run toward the fray.
Oh well, I guess it’s time to do the laundry.
9. Xena, Xena: Warrior Princess
-Deep As You Go, October Project
Why does she keep coming after me? Why can’t she just let me go? It’s probably the second or third time that Xena’s found herself facing certain death and yet there’s Gabrielle, arguing with the warlord of the week, trying to win her friend’s freedom.
It won’t work, but Xena can’t help but be impressed by the would-be bard’s rhetoric.
“If you kill her now, who are you going to compare yourself to when you’re telling stories for ales at the local warlord’s watering hole?” is Gabrielle’s latest query, which is met with a blank-eyed stare and then laughter from the warlord in question.
“Why, me of course!”
Gabrielle snorts. “You? Please, I could kick your ass. The only reason you have Xena right now is you cheated.”
The warlord’s face darkens, and for an instant, Xena feels the glacial hand of fear stretch its fingers through her chest. But then, something miraculous happens.
The warlord’s men begin to grumble. Finally one stands up and says, “The girl’s right, Andrus. Beat the bitch fair and square or you ain’t worth the clipped coppers you paid us.”
Well I’ll be a blue-eared donkey! Xena knows that the warlord will have to fight her again, and this time, no matter what, she’s going to kick his ass. Shooting a glance at her companion, she tries once more to fathom why Gabrielle would risk so much for her, and then, she sees it.
The young woman’s eyes radiate her relief even as she opens her mouth to add to Andrus’ troubles.
Better put a purple nose on that donkey, because I think someone loves me. Damn. Guess I’m just gonna have to get used to seeing her pretty face every day.
10. Tracey Kibre, Law and Order: Trial by Jury
-The Train Song, Jen Cass
Tracey Kibre had worked some shitty cases before, but this one truly ate the cupcake. The courtroom was hushed as second chair ADA Kelly Gaffney worked a little magic to pull a heart wrenching tale from the little boy sitting on the stand.
Hell of a thing to see, the ADA thought, even as she scribbled a few notes on the pad she and her co-chair shared. Kelly was better with kids. For some reason, Tracey always felt like she was the proverbial deer in the headlights of an onrushing train when faced with the round-eyed innocence of a child.
Or in this case, not so innocent. After witnessing his father first beat and then murder his mother, the boy had then somehow remained silent while the father raged through the house, destroying everything in his path. Hours later, after the man had drank himself into a stupor, the boy had crept out and ran to a neighbor, seeking help.
As Kelly wrapped up her questions, Tracey scrawled a final note - Dinner. 8pm. Pick someplace private. They both deserved some serious down time, especially since the next part was her job.
The crime scene photos. It’s a good thing we’ve already had the lunch break.
The defense council tried his best, but could in no way shake the boy's story. As the child traded places with the medical examiner, Tracey stood and nodded at the jury. Gathering her thoughts, she was brought up short by Kelly’s hastily scrawled response to her last note.
How does candles, a bathtub filled with bubbles, and pizza at my place sound?
Thought train thoroughly derailed, Tracey coughed softly and deliberately turned away from Kelly and fixed her gaze on the first of the photos.
In the back of her mind, she was already planning her revenge.