NatM-ficlet: "Moll"
all typos are my own.
Fandom: Night At The Museum II: Battle Of The Smithsonian.
fic list is here.
Title: Moll
Characters: Al Capone, Sacajawea.
mention made of: Larry, Teddy Roosevelt, Ivan the Terrible, Russian and French soldiers.
Set: During the Battle.
Summary: Al Capone and Sacajawea have a little chat during the thick of things.
(did I just come close to writing Al/Sacajawea fic?)
Reference: none.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Location: Smithsonian basement:
Just as Sacajawea was about to strike the fatal blow to one of Ivan's soldiers, someone grabbed her hand -
"What you doing?" Al Capone asked her.
"Fighting," she snapped at him.
He nodded, and when the knight tried lashing out at Sacajawea with a vicious kick, Capone stomped on his ankle and slapped him back down with his gun. "He oughtn't have done that," Al Capone said casually.
"Thank you" she said. If the knight was getting back up, it wouldn't be any time soon. "Are you on our side now?" Sacajawea asked Al.
"Depends. You spoken for, some guy's moll, maybe?"
"I am spoken for," she said, trusting that 'moll' was somehow signifigent. Theodore will know it, surely, when we return home.
"Damn. That's a real shame," and kicked behind him, striking the Frenchman who had tried to sneak up on them. "Then no, I ain't changin' sides."
"Then why?" she asked.
"I got standards," Al said. "And you, you're somebody - Lincoln, Thinker, Earheart, all here; you wouldn't be here if you wasn't somebody big." For a guy with itty cajones, Daley's got pull with the big names.
If I was not someone famous, I would not exist. "Then you've never heard of me?" Sacajawea said.
"Now I never said that," he said. "Just they shouldn't be hittin' ya."
"Are you suggesting I'm delicate?" she asked, backhandedly slapping away another Frenchman.
"Naw," Al said. "If you was, you wouldn't've walked into a fight. You're bigger than that."
Having seen Lincoln, Sacajawea wasn't immediately sure how to take that.
His eyes left hers for a moment, and he had his gripping hand slide down her arm, taking her hand and bringing it to her face; she told herself it was surprise that was why she didn't take the prime opportunity to slap him.
"I'll be seeing you," he said, brushing his lips over her knuckles before passing through the fray in pursuit of - of Larry, Sacajawea saw.
She throttled the next knight who came her way.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
the end
Fandom: Night At The Museum II: Battle Of The Smithsonian.
fic list is here.
Title: Moll
Characters: Al Capone, Sacajawea.
mention made of: Larry, Teddy Roosevelt, Ivan the Terrible, Russian and French soldiers.
Set: During the Battle.
Summary: Al Capone and Sacajawea have a little chat during the thick of things.
(did I just come close to writing Al/Sacajawea fic?)
Reference: none.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Location: Smithsonian basement:
Just as Sacajawea was about to strike the fatal blow to one of Ivan's soldiers, someone grabbed her hand -
"What you doing?" Al Capone asked her.
"Fighting," she snapped at him.
He nodded, and when the knight tried lashing out at Sacajawea with a vicious kick, Capone stomped on his ankle and slapped him back down with his gun. "He oughtn't have done that," Al Capone said casually.
"Thank you" she said. If the knight was getting back up, it wouldn't be any time soon. "Are you on our side now?" Sacajawea asked Al.
"Depends. You spoken for, some guy's moll, maybe?"
"I am spoken for," she said, trusting that 'moll' was somehow signifigent. Theodore will know it, surely, when we return home.
"Damn. That's a real shame," and kicked behind him, striking the Frenchman who had tried to sneak up on them. "Then no, I ain't changin' sides."
"Then why?" she asked.
"I got standards," Al said. "And you, you're somebody - Lincoln, Thinker, Earheart, all here; you wouldn't be here if you wasn't somebody big." For a guy with itty cajones, Daley's got pull with the big names.
If I was not someone famous, I would not exist. "Then you've never heard of me?" Sacajawea said.
"Now I never said that," he said. "Just they shouldn't be hittin' ya."
"Are you suggesting I'm delicate?" she asked, backhandedly slapping away another Frenchman.
"Naw," Al said. "If you was, you wouldn't've walked into a fight. You're bigger than that."
Having seen Lincoln, Sacajawea wasn't immediately sure how to take that.
His eyes left hers for a moment, and he had his gripping hand slide down her arm, taking her hand and bringing it to her face; she told herself it was surprise that was why she didn't take the prime opportunity to slap him.
"I'll be seeing you," he said, brushing his lips over her knuckles before passing through the fray in pursuit of - of Larry, Sacajawea saw.
She throttled the next knight who came her way.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
the end