This Is An Emergency Oz Drabble Tree
This Is An Emergency Oz Drabble Tree [named by ozsaur]
It's time for another Oz Drabble Tree! This is our lucky 7th drabble tree!
If you're new to this, check out: The First Ever Oz Drabble Tree, The Return of Oz Drabble Tree, The Little Oz Drabble Tree That Could, Are You There God? It's Oz Drabble Tree, Oz Drabble Tree Knows Best, and In Oz Drabble Tree, No One Can Hear You Scream.
Rules.
1. Oz characters, please. Crossovers with the usual suspects are also welcome (SVU, Wanted, Homicide, Fringe, Lost, The Wire, The Unusuals, etc).
2. Het, slash, gen. Any character or pairing. It's all good.
3. Drabble (100 words) is a suggestion. You won't get shanked if you do a double drabble or it runs a bit long.
4. Your drabble must be posted as a comment to this entry.
5. Include a word, phrase or sentence from a previous drabble in the tree. Put it in the subject line and bold it in your drabble.
6. You can riff on any drabble in the tree. Just reply to the drabble you're riffing from.
7. Write as many drabbles as you want.
8. Drabbles only, please. No comments. Show your appreciation by jumping off someone else's drabble.
9. If you have any questions, head over to my LJ - I have an announcement post where you can ask for help or leave a comment. Or, you can leave comments for the writers at the announcement post @ oz_rapsheet.
10. The Drabble Tree will run for a week or two; if there's enough interest, we'll keep it running longer. When it's over, post your drabbles to your own LJ and/or archive them.
11. RPS is allowed; please put RPS in the header of your drabble. If you don't want to read RPS, then pay attention to the headers.
12. Have fun! :D
***
Ryan waits for Gloria in her office, if it can even be called that: walls made from heavy-duty chicken wire, really, and more than half of the space taken up by locked file cabinets and metal shelves. It's nothing like what Ryan imagines Gloria's office would be like outside of Oz. There would be cushioned chairs, to start, and framed photographs of cityscapes on the light blue walls, softly lit by track lighting. She'd have an orchid on her glass-topped desk, a pile of colorful folders stacked on the corner. The coat rack would be the same, but dark, polished wood, with only her white coat hanging from it, and not the metal contraption where several indistinguishable jackets hang limply from the arms.
He'd breeze into the waiting room and grin charmingly at her receptionist, who'd wave him through into her sanctuary, a place with thick walls, a door that locks from the inside, and blinds on the windows. He wants to leave his fingerprints all over the glass surface of her desk, his palms flat as he crowds her close, urging her to wrap her legs around his waist, and then -
"Ryan," Gloria says, breaking into his reverie. "What is it now?"
She sounds tired, and he fights the urge to stand up, to hug her close and pet her hair and tell her to lean on him, that he'll be strong for the both of them.
"Nothin'," he replies. "Just wanted to see you."
He leans forward, smiling expectantly, waiting for her answering blush.
Instead she sighs, sitting down hard, the metal springs of her chair creaking harshly.
"Ryan," she repeats, gently.
He'll never get sick of hearing her say his name.
She picks up a pen from her desk, rolls it between her fingers. "You know you can't just come down here whenever you want."
"Oh, sure," he replies. "Well, I've got this problem. It's kind of serious." He leans back in the chair, squints, pretends he can see the skyline of Chicago over her left shoulder.
She looks up, then, and he tries for a smirk, but it's lost, and all he can do is stare. She's so fucking beautiful.
And we're off!
This tree is now closed! Thank you!