New Law and Order: Criminal Intent fic
Title: Try to Remember
Fandom: Law & Order (Mothership and Criminal Intent)
Characters: Mike Logan (Lenny Briscoe)
Prompt: #84 He
Word Count: 292
Rating: K
Summary: The reverberations of his laughter are finally enough to pull back the curtains of smoke for you to see him.
Author's Notes: Small tiny spoiler for the Season Finale. (Was it called Renewal?) See Assertion
You sleep and dream of an old pool hall.
The smell of stale cigarettes and spilt beer is the first thing you identify. Next comes the feel of worn felt and polished wood against your fingers; and the taste of burnt coffee fills your mouth at nearly the same moment. Then sound filters into the dream; the swoosh of stick against ball, the click of ball against ball, the thud of the ball dropping into the woven leather pocket, and the gentle sound of his laughter. The reverberations of his laughter are finally enough to pull back the curtains of smoke for you to see him.
He stands at the other end of the room. A sea of green felt separates you and you remember that he was a traditionalist, never played on anything but green. He smiles at you and greets you with that casual air you wished you could learn from him. He bends to that another shot and the five ball drops into the corner pocket like it had been pushed with an unseen hand. He makes quick work of the table dropping the balls in numeric order as he rounds the table. Soon the last ball is gliding towards the side pocket and he’s standing next you.
His hand drops warmly on to your shoulder. It is a comfortable and familiar feel, a gesture he’s made hundred… no thousands of times over the years. You take comfort in the weight and feel of it. Turning to him, you see the man he was, not the waxy imitation that lingered the last few weeks of his life. He smiles that smug smile of his and tells you that he’s not dead.
You awake and know his words are true.
Fandom: Law & Order (Mothership and Criminal Intent)
Characters: Mike Logan (Lenny Briscoe)
Prompt: #84 He
Word Count: 292
Rating: K
Summary: The reverberations of his laughter are finally enough to pull back the curtains of smoke for you to see him.
Author's Notes: Small tiny spoiler for the Season Finale. (Was it called Renewal?) See Assertion
You sleep and dream of an old pool hall.
The smell of stale cigarettes and spilt beer is the first thing you identify. Next comes the feel of worn felt and polished wood against your fingers; and the taste of burnt coffee fills your mouth at nearly the same moment. Then sound filters into the dream; the swoosh of stick against ball, the click of ball against ball, the thud of the ball dropping into the woven leather pocket, and the gentle sound of his laughter. The reverberations of his laughter are finally enough to pull back the curtains of smoke for you to see him.
He stands at the other end of the room. A sea of green felt separates you and you remember that he was a traditionalist, never played on anything but green. He smiles at you and greets you with that casual air you wished you could learn from him. He bends to that another shot and the five ball drops into the corner pocket like it had been pushed with an unseen hand. He makes quick work of the table dropping the balls in numeric order as he rounds the table. Soon the last ball is gliding towards the side pocket and he’s standing next you.
His hand drops warmly on to your shoulder. It is a comfortable and familiar feel, a gesture he’s made hundred… no thousands of times over the years. You take comfort in the weight and feel of it. Turning to him, you see the man he was, not the waxy imitation that lingered the last few weeks of his life. He smiles that smug smile of his and tells you that he’s not dead.
You awake and know his words are true.