Ficlets (Supernatural, Firefly)
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Sam/Jess
Rating: PG
Prompt: SPN, Sam/Jess, "You and I'll be safe and sound" (Taylor Swift, Safe and Sound)
She notices he gets a little jumpy, sometimes. At night he'll check the deadbolt one too many times; stares out the window just a moment too long before drawing the curtains tight.
"Scared of the dark?" she teases him one night, curled up together on the sofa.
"Just what's in it," he says, seemingly without thinking.
She doesn't reply, but the next night he comes home to find candles scattered through the apartment. He doesn't mention it, but she sees him smile.
*
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Sam/Jess
Rating: PG
Prompt: Supernatural, Sam, pride
Jess sees how hard he studies. Midterms roll around and he hits the stacks before anyone, stays until the library closes and then goes sleepless reading textbooks cover to cover. She's always been impressed by his ability to get by on an hour or two of sleep a night.
The first time it happens she's a little frustrated, maybe even jealous that her boyfriend doesn't have time for her any more. "You're smart already," she says, leaning an arm across the page. "Brady and Dana are down at the bar; come have a drink." He smiles and she goes alone.
It's not that he's worried about failing, though, she realizes later. It's that he can't stand not to be the best. He doesn't talk much about his family, but she gets the impression that he was never the favorite kid. She knows he's putting himself through college, too; knows it's not because of his family's financial trouble.
It's pride, she decides, after waking up to find him snoring into a legal dictionary, and not for the first time. It's sheer, stubborn, stupid pride. She tiptoes around him and starts making the coffee.
*
Fandom: Firefly
Characters: Jayne
Rating: PG
Prompt: Firefly, Jayne, hat
Jayne's ma died when he was just a boy. She knew what was comin' for her, though, sick for years, and she wrote a whole stack of letters and knit him a gorram boat of comfy things. It don't make up for never seein' him grow, but he ain't complaining. There's a whole host of folks out there who never had a mama like her, not even for a little while.
Auntie June never did learn how to read, but she knew her numbers and she made sure he always got those letters. On his birthdays, mostly: five, ten, fifteen. By sixteen he was long gone, but Auntie June sent the letter to a mail post on his twentieth. He didn't get it till six months later, but he wore the mittens for a week that May, even though it made it harder to pull the trigger.
Sometimes he'd pick up a letter that was just a letter, no reason or order to it. Like she was writin' from home, tellin' him what her day was like, remindin' him that she always kept his old bed tidy for him if he ever needed it. Those were always a surprise, the good kind. Type that made him feel kinda fuzzy inside -- but not too fuzzy, see.
So yeah, he'll put on the hat his mama made for him, and he don't care what the crew thinks because, gorram it, he's got the best ever mama in the whole ruttin' verse.
*
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Ellen, Jo, Ash
Spoilers: 5.10 "Abandon All Hope" & 5.16 "Dark Side of the Moon"
Rating: PG
Prompt: Supernatural, Ellen + / Jo, heaven
She doesn't remember arriving in Heaven. Barely remembers dying (teeth blood claws, flames licking at her skin) and it's surprisingly easy to empty her head of such thoughts here. She touches her ear and pulls them out, sets them aside to gather dust.
She's got a hammock, rope-and-cloth, the comfortable one that Gran had on her porch all those years ago. Never sure what happened to it, in all the chaos. Probably it burned with the house, and Gran. (She touches her ear.)
The hammock's on a porch, one that doesn't creak, and the rope has just the right amount of give, swinging gently without stopping and never too much. There's a cold bottle of beer in her hand that never warms and never empties, and it's always not-quite-sunset, that moment of time just before twilight when the sky is a perfect deep blue.
"Evenin', Ash," she says lazily, and she's too complacent to be surprised. She hasn't seen anyone else since she got here, but if anyone was gonna hack Heaven, well -- she'd put her money on Ash.
"Got someone here who wants to see you, Ellen," Ash says.
"Hey Mom."
"Hi there, honey. Come sit a while." There's another hammock and another beer, low music -- country, the only genre they could ever agree on -- and Ellen never thought it was possible but Heaven just got a whole lot better.
Characters: Sam/Jess
Rating: PG
Prompt: SPN, Sam/Jess, "You and I'll be safe and sound" (Taylor Swift, Safe and Sound)
She notices he gets a little jumpy, sometimes. At night he'll check the deadbolt one too many times; stares out the window just a moment too long before drawing the curtains tight.
"Scared of the dark?" she teases him one night, curled up together on the sofa.
"Just what's in it," he says, seemingly without thinking.
She doesn't reply, but the next night he comes home to find candles scattered through the apartment. He doesn't mention it, but she sees him smile.
*
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Sam/Jess
Rating: PG
Prompt: Supernatural, Sam, pride
Jess sees how hard he studies. Midterms roll around and he hits the stacks before anyone, stays until the library closes and then goes sleepless reading textbooks cover to cover. She's always been impressed by his ability to get by on an hour or two of sleep a night.
The first time it happens she's a little frustrated, maybe even jealous that her boyfriend doesn't have time for her any more. "You're smart already," she says, leaning an arm across the page. "Brady and Dana are down at the bar; come have a drink." He smiles and she goes alone.
It's not that he's worried about failing, though, she realizes later. It's that he can't stand not to be the best. He doesn't talk much about his family, but she gets the impression that he was never the favorite kid. She knows he's putting himself through college, too; knows it's not because of his family's financial trouble.
It's pride, she decides, after waking up to find him snoring into a legal dictionary, and not for the first time. It's sheer, stubborn, stupid pride. She tiptoes around him and starts making the coffee.
*
Fandom: Firefly
Characters: Jayne
Rating: PG
Prompt: Firefly, Jayne, hat
Jayne's ma died when he was just a boy. She knew what was comin' for her, though, sick for years, and she wrote a whole stack of letters and knit him a gorram boat of comfy things. It don't make up for never seein' him grow, but he ain't complaining. There's a whole host of folks out there who never had a mama like her, not even for a little while.
Auntie June never did learn how to read, but she knew her numbers and she made sure he always got those letters. On his birthdays, mostly: five, ten, fifteen. By sixteen he was long gone, but Auntie June sent the letter to a mail post on his twentieth. He didn't get it till six months later, but he wore the mittens for a week that May, even though it made it harder to pull the trigger.
Sometimes he'd pick up a letter that was just a letter, no reason or order to it. Like she was writin' from home, tellin' him what her day was like, remindin' him that she always kept his old bed tidy for him if he ever needed it. Those were always a surprise, the good kind. Type that made him feel kinda fuzzy inside -- but not too fuzzy, see.
So yeah, he'll put on the hat his mama made for him, and he don't care what the crew thinks because, gorram it, he's got the best ever mama in the whole ruttin' verse.
*
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Ellen, Jo, Ash
Spoilers: 5.10 "Abandon All Hope" & 5.16 "Dark Side of the Moon"
Rating: PG
Prompt: Supernatural, Ellen + / Jo, heaven
She doesn't remember arriving in Heaven. Barely remembers dying (teeth blood claws, flames licking at her skin) and it's surprisingly easy to empty her head of such thoughts here. She touches her ear and pulls them out, sets them aside to gather dust.
She's got a hammock, rope-and-cloth, the comfortable one that Gran had on her porch all those years ago. Never sure what happened to it, in all the chaos. Probably it burned with the house, and Gran. (She touches her ear.)
The hammock's on a porch, one that doesn't creak, and the rope has just the right amount of give, swinging gently without stopping and never too much. There's a cold bottle of beer in her hand that never warms and never empties, and it's always not-quite-sunset, that moment of time just before twilight when the sky is a perfect deep blue.
"Evenin', Ash," she says lazily, and she's too complacent to be surprised. She hasn't seen anyone else since she got here, but if anyone was gonna hack Heaven, well -- she'd put her money on Ash.
"Got someone here who wants to see you, Ellen," Ash says.
"Hey Mom."
"Hi there, honey. Come sit a while." There's another hammock and another beer, low music -- country, the only genre they could ever agree on -- and Ellen never thought it was possible but Heaven just got a whole lot better.