Ficlets!
In Flight Entertainment
It was when he stood up in front of the Flight Attendant and began performing his own safety demonstration, consisting mostly of rude gestures, that Harriet finally recognized Tracy Jordan. She watched out of the corner of her eye as he was eventually persuaded to return to his seat next to a brunette who was doing her best to hide in her magazine.
In between half-watching the in-flight movie, Harriet listened to Tracy elaborate at length to his companion about his belief that the aboriginals were right, and photographs really did steal a part of of your soul. The woman's long-suffering responses made Harriet smile.
She dozed a bit, only really waking up when the pressure drop indicated their descent. She noticed that across the aisle Tracy Jordan was staring very intently at the woman sleeping next to him, and that his face was uncomfortably close to hers.
As they taxied to the gate an insistent chirping reminded Harriet to dig her phone out of her purse. Danny had texted her with a bullet point list of things not to do on Letterman, beginning with "Talk about Jesus."
Jeannie said good luck, Simon said to have fun in New York and Tom reminded her to watch out for pickpockets.
Matt's text just said, "Don't fuck it up." Harriet rolled her eyes. Shouldering her bag, she moved into the flow of people making their way off the plane.
A shouted, "Lemon, are you coming to the after-plane party?" followed her out onto the concourse.
Cloudy Days and Spaceships
"That one looks like a spaceship, don't you think?"
Violet squinted dubiously at the cloud which, in her opinion, didn't look like anything but a cloud. But the ground was sun-warmed beneath her and Cooper lay next to her, squinting toward the sky.
Before she could frame a not-too-negative response he poked her in the ribs.
"You know it looks like a spaceship."
Violet poked him back. "It doesn't. It looks like a cloud."
"And hey! Right next to it is the astronaut." Violet rolled her eyes. Peripherally she saw Cooper turn to lie on his side and face her.
"I don't see the astronaut," she said.
"What do you see?"
"I guess it could be a ... marshmallow? Or a cotton ball." Cooper put a hand on her stomach.
"Look harder," he said. Instead she looked at him and smiled. Now she saw.
I love the rain the most
Michael tried to open the door as quietly as possible. The storm had drenched him, despite his umbrella, and he knew Jan would yell if he tracked mud into the condo.
The door squeaked though, and Michael winced, resolving to get Dwight over here tomorrow to fix the door so it didn't squeak.
Scraping the mud off as much as possible, he crept into the living room. It was empty, though, as was the kitchen, and the lights were all off upstairs. He was walking toward the phone when he heard the squeak of the front door.
Peaking around the corner he saw Jan standing on the mat, trying to shake the rain off of her sweater.
"Jan?" He asked, unsure where she had been. She looked up sharply, eyes widening. But then she smiled at him.
"I was in the backyard, just, you know, enjoying the rain. But I saw the light..." she trailed off.
Michael smiled and took her hand. "Let's go stand in the rain then, m'lady."
She followed him out but said, "Michael, what did I tell you about tracking mud into the house? as he closed the door behind them.
Mulder's New Friend
It's their fourth apartment in three months, a shady walkup in Montreal. They are Elizabeth and Steven Johnson this time, (Mulder mocked her for the generic names, but it was her turn to choose and after two weeks as Crystabel Gutierrez she wanted something normal.) and they spend their days taking walks or reading while they wait for the latest communication from Doggett, the latest information on where they will finally be safe.
Scully is reading in the most comfortable chair that came with their furnished apartment, though even in this one the springs poke her back.
She looks up to when the door opens to see Mulder walking into the room, peering down at something cradled in his arms.
Scully is still trying to determine what exactly Mulder is carrying - with Mulder it could be anything from Italian subs to alien life forms - when a small furry head pops up and says, "Mrow?" with a concerned look on its face.
Mulder undoubtedly sees the look of horror she shoots him because he begins talking immediately.
"Billy downstairs, you remember Billy," (Scully does in fact remember Billy, the six-year old downstairs with whom Mulder has been playing basketball lately) "well, his cat had kittens and they're having a hard time finding homes for them all and ..." Mulder trails off and looks at her helplessly.
She crosses her arms as he sets the kitten down on the floor. It creeps over to her and sniffs at her shoelaces.
"I was thinking we could call him Queequeg II?" He offers.
Scully just sighs.
Click Goes the Trigger
The gun is cool in her hand, the metal biting into her skin where she grips it too hard. He's walking toward her, eyes never leaving her face and she's paralyzed, standing
waiting
she pulls the trigger.
Scully sits up with a gasp, feeling the covers slide down to rest in her lap. The alarm clock blinks 3:30 AM and she can hear Mulder's muffled snores through the door.
Donnie Pfaster is not here. Donnie Pfaster is in a body bag in some D.C. morgue, waiting for some other coroner to slice into his skin the way he wanted to slice into hers. She wishes he were alive to feel it.
She lays back down on Mulder's bed, clutches the blankets around her like a child afraid of the dark. Maybe she is.
The night passes. Scully dozes and dreams and wakes up or doesn't. In the morning Mulder leaves for work with an apologetic smile and a promise to bring home pizza for dinner. She's not really listening, so she doesn't think to remind him that she'd rather have a salad.
The door closes behind him and Scully is alone. She looks around the apartment. She washes the breakfast dishes. She takes a nap.
It's when she wakes up from another dream featuring Pfaster's face that she resolves to end this.
Stepping into Mulder's bathroom she stares at the bathtub for a long minute. With most of her strength of will she turns on the tap and stops the drain.
A few minutes later she returns with a glass of wine - the emotional trauma is more important than the early hour - and a book selected from Mulder's bookshelf, one of the few that didn't focus on profiling or alien abduction.
The bath is full and Scully sinks into the water with a small smile at how strong she is, to overcome her fears so quickly.
She reads and sips her wine, and then takes a minute just to relax, to let the warm water soothe her nighttime terror-tensed muscles.
She glances up then, and catches a glimpse of her hair in the mirror.
cold gun, marking her palm, the trigger slides like silk and the retort is a benediction
Scully chokes and gasps and blinks her eyes. When her vision steadies she sees that her glass has fallen from her nerveless fingers - red wine and glass float in the bathtub with her; the wine settles on her skin and Scully sees blood.
She barely makes it to the toilet before she vomits.
Mulder comes home that afternoon, many hours later, to find her shivering in the bathroom, eyes not leaving the red, red bathwater.
She dreams that night of Pfaster's smile.
Warmth
Harriet opened her eyes to see Matt looking down at her, small smile on his face.
"Hi," he said, when her eyes met his.
"Hi," she replied, and smiled back.
He kissed her then, and Harriet could feel the cotton of his sheets underneath her, feel the sun warm on her face.
She stroked the soft skin of his back, sighed as his hands combed through her hair and he murmured into her neck that it was like spun sunshine.
Matt was kissing her and Harriet found that she could forget to worry about her immortal soul, about her job, about her life, if only he never stopped.
Nucleus
(completely AU after the middle of Season 3)
The family is the nucleus to civilization
It startles Laura to look up and see Kara, blonde and shining in the dim light, in the place where Dee used to sit during their "family" dinners. But there she sat, next to Lee, head bent low to whisper in his ear when she thought no one was paying attention. Laura misses Dee's quiet conversation, the way she could advise the Admiral with her gentle practicality. But with the addition of Kara these dinners have become more lively, more spirited, and Bill smiles almost continually now.
Laura took a sip of her wine and let her gaze flick to Bill and Saul, engaged in a conversation undoubtedly about work. Laura sighed.
These evenings had originally been conceived as strategy sessions, opportunities for the President and the Admiral to discuss fleet politics, training schedules and options in the ongoing search for Earth. Over time the addition of food and wine and the inclusion of other close friends or family members turned the event into a more casual, familial experience.
There were still problems - still Cylons and food shortages and dissent - but their evenings once a week made those things a little more bearable, Laura thought.
Lee laughed then, loud and bright, at something Kara had said. Bill caught her eye and they shared a smile. Saul cut in with a joke and Laura looked around at this defacto family and smiled wider.