Holiday Present - Seven Ways This Doesn't Work
Well, okay. This was going to be a ChristmaHanuKwaanzaSolstice present, but it... wasn't. So now the first half of it is a one-day-late New Year's present.
Each drabble is dedicated to a friend, and if you're not on the list the only thing it means is that I ran out of fandoms/pairings. I used Due South (Ray/Ray), West Wing (Josh/Donna), Sports Night, West Wing (Sam/Toby), Due South (Turnbull/Fraser), NCIS (Tony/Abby), and Studio 60 (Jack/Jordan).
Notes: About the first drabble's lyrics - I heard the Red Hot Chili Pepper's Snow, and one of the lines is "Underneath the cover of another perfect wonder," which I thought said "Underneath the cover with another perfect lover." The rest just evolved, because I thought it sounded cool. Other than that, the lyrics belong to Snow Patrol, Metallica, the Counting Crows, U2, Fiona Apple, and Arcade Fire.
In random order, the recipients of the drabbles (although, in order of said drabbles):
catwalksalone - to fuel your Ray/Ray addiction
lordessrenegade - if I'm going to tell you to write more West Wing, I should practice what I preach
phoebesmum - boys! 'Nuff said
thecolourclear - I knew exactly what I was going to do for this. Wonder why... :D Enjoy!
lipstickcat - gr. So much trouble, because I've never really written Turnbull before. *kicks reluctant Mounties*
ewanspotter - we need to talk more. This is to get the party started. And also because I wanted to write NCIS.
laylee - was so going to write you Sports Night (even with llama references!), but you know what
phoebesmum is like when she doesn't get her boys. Plus, I wanted to write S60 and you won the lottery. I'll write you an extra SN drabble if you want.
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Deep beneath the covers with another broken lover
They were both completely messed up and they knew it. Two broken vases that almost fit together, as if there was a missing piece in the middle.
Kowalski nearly burned him with his skin as he tackled them onto the bed, hard and painful and sweet and so hot it was like he was glowing.
Later, Ray watched through almost-shut eyes as Kowalski quietly got dressed and left, only leaving the dark.
His last thought before the darkness took him with sleep was that it was funny that Kowalski was already broken, because he’d never let Ray see him break.
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These things will never change for us at all
It was dark in that soft way, where the light from lamps and door cracks looks like halos with blurred edges arranged on the floor. Dark in the way that says exhaustion doesn’t come with a time limit.
“Go home, Donna,” he muttered.
She didn’t argue. “Goodnight, Josh.”
He looked up from the floor by his desk. “Love you,” he said.
She smiled a sad little smile in a way that said forever in two inches. “See you tomorrow,” she said instead.
“See you,” he whispered.
As long as it was just because of the job, it wasn’t their fault.
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All these words I don’t just say
“You sure?” Dan asked, turning back at the door.
Casey settled himself on their office couch with a blanket. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it. Go home.”
Dan sighed. “Casey-”
“Dan.” Casey looked at him steadily. “Go home.”
“I’m just trying to help out.”
“I don’t need your help! Go home, Dan!” Casey angrily curled up and tucked his head under the blanket.
Dan flicked the light and the office was only lit by invisible stars and the streetlights far below. He looked back at the couch sadly.
“Yeah,” he said quietly and let the door fall shut silently behind him.
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All the anger and the eloquence are bleeding into fear
Sam smiled when the lamp broke above his head. Because this was Toby and he was yelling. Because the guy he’d been living with for the past two weeks wasn’t Toby. And he thought he might be a little bit in love with Toby, a little bit in awe of him.
As the glass paperweight just missed him and shattered against the wall, he knew sometimes love wasn’t good enough.
They would never make it.
So he smiled at the slamming door and pretended not to notice the salt on his face and leaned down to pick up the pieces.
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And if the night runs over, and if the day won’t last
Days are good, but they go too fast. The nights drag, and they’re awful.
Isn’t that just perfect?
Day means sunlight and hope and brightness and red uniforms. Black hair and white skin and red wool.
Turnbull knows he’s not in love. He can’t be. And when the day’s over, he goes home to his empty apartment and empty fridge and empty life and fills the emptiness in his heart with bad TV and beer. And Fraser, Fraser stays at the Consulate, at work, on duty even when he’s sleeping, and there’s nothing to love of a man like that.
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I’ve acquired quite a taste for a well-made mistake
Hot, hard, dirty and neither one of them is pretending it’s more than a one-night stand, a mistake they made on purpose. It’s death and sex and there’s nothing poetic about it.
It’s only glaring, too-bright neon lights reflecting off broken pavement in what could have been blood or fallen rain. Lights flashing, red and blue and white, not enough darkness, screeching sirens through the heat.
She turns over as Tony puts his hand on the door knob because it’s three a.m. and nothing’s going away except for him.
“See you next time,” Abby says.
“Yeah,” he says, and leaves.
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Come on, hide your lovers underneath the covers
There’s nothing romantic about an affair. It doesn’t make you special. It just makes you stupid.
There’s nothing special about hiding and running when you’re tired of it. About beige hotel rooms and drawn blinds in sterile offices. There’s nothing like love in fucking on desks and paper cuts on your thighs.
It’s not stolen kisses and anonymous roses and whispered I love yous and promises in the night, Jordan thought. She watched Jack tell her he couldn’t do it anymore as he turned the knob and left her naked on the bed.
It’s only broken dreams and lost forevers.
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The next part (...And Seven Ways It Does) is coming here, which is why this is very much not a happy!fic. The happy!fic part is on its way there.
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