Fic: "The Fantastically Flawed Adventures of Franny Goren", CI
How many posts have started with "No, I ain't dead" in the life-span of this journal? Many. MANY. But more on RL in a later post.
For now, have some Franny Goren fic that I have been playing with. She's zany! She's the sum of her parents! She's Franny!
(Franny, of course, made her dodgy debut in that oh-so-fluffy piece, "At Home with the Gorens". You know you want more. Now in the first person!)
TITLE: The Fantastically Flawed Adventures of Franny Goren [1/?]
FANDOM: Future!Criminal Intent
RATING: I'd say "WTF", but really, PG
DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf's, not mine.
The Fantastically Flawed Adventures of Franny Goren
by Piecesofalice
NOTES: The world didn't need this. But my work-riddled soul did.
----
It was the rip that gave me away.
It was a pretty solid one - right up my skirt, into the top of the dress and there I was; stuck on a tree branch like a fish on a hook outside my parent's bedroom window.
"Trying to escape, Frances?"
"No, Mom. Just..."
"Inside. Now."
She seemed to forget I was stuck, or felt being held captive by a grabby beech tree was a sufficent punishment for sneaking out on a Saturday night. Knowing my mother?
Yeah. Exactly.
I sighed, and sort of waved back and forth at their window, the cold air hitting my ass that was now hanging out for the whole neighbourhood to see.
"This can't be safe!" I screamed at the black window.
It took fifteen minutes of shouting before I heard the phone ring, my mother answer, then send my father out to get me.
"You're going to give her a heart attack," Dad said, his hands on his hips, squinting against the outside light.
I squinted back. "Mrs. Henderson called, didn't she."
"You woke the neighbours, Franny." Up the tree, he unhooked me and I grabbed on to his back.
"Do we have to go in?"
He just smiled, and as our feet touched the ground, I clutched at my exposed behind and followed him to my doom.
---
Who I Am - A Needlessly Boring Time-Filling Task To Open a New School Year, by Frances Goren.
My name is Frances Goren and I am currently sixteen and a half. Different from when I was sixteen straight, and even from yesterday, I am a typical Brooklyn teenager who's interests chop and change depending on my ever-changing moods and environmental influences.
I'm a Pisces, which is supposed to mean I'm dream-like and spiritual - somehow, I think I must have been born under the wrong moon. I'm not an athlete, I like books, I hate school and I loathe study. Most of all, I hate stupid essays where I'm asked to go into finite detail about my existance in order for you, the teacher, to better understand the monsters you're going to teach this year.
----
Through my bedroom wall, I can hear them talking. Half of the words are missing, but the sentiment's the same.
"...trouble. I just don't...hurt, Bobby."
Dad's voice is lower, more tired, and it's harder to hear his response. But I know what it is, if he were in the room beside me.
"She's gonna do what she wants to do, regardless of what we do to stop her."
And my mother? "And when we get the call from the M.E...?"
Leaning against the back of my bed, I pick up my Sidekick and send a message to Dominic.
Parentals caught me. Going to be grounded for eternity.
I'm finishing the message when my mother sticks her head into my room, her tiny frame half-hidden by the dark out in the hall and the door it's self. She looks tired, resigned - a lot of the same expressions I'd seen before, and I wave her in.
"What's the punishment, Warden?"
"Franny." She picks up a photo of her and Dad, a couple of years before I was born, stares at it as if they were dressed as carnival stars, then puts it down. "Franny."
"You said that already." I don't mean to sound bitchy, but I do, and I'm sixteen, and it's normal.
"Just. Just don't climb out of windows anymore, okay?"
And she leaves, just like that; no sarcastic puns or rants about safety, or capital punishments involving washing her ex-police captain's Hummer. She just leaves, closing the door behind her and I feel like...like I've been shafted, that a twister was promised and all I got was a slight rain and the moos of cows in the distance.
Not like Mom. Not at all.
Something is wrong, and I'm gonna find out what it is.
----
TBC.
I say this fic becomes Choose Your Own Adventure, but that's just moi.
For now, have some Franny Goren fic that I have been playing with. She's zany! She's the sum of her parents! She's Franny!
(Franny, of course, made her dodgy debut in that oh-so-fluffy piece, "At Home with the Gorens". You know you want more. Now in the first person!)
TITLE: The Fantastically Flawed Adventures of Franny Goren [1/?]
FANDOM: Future!Criminal Intent
RATING: I'd say "WTF", but really, PG
DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf's, not mine.
The Fantastically Flawed Adventures of Franny Goren
by Piecesofalice
NOTES: The world didn't need this. But my work-riddled soul did.
----
It was the rip that gave me away.
It was a pretty solid one - right up my skirt, into the top of the dress and there I was; stuck on a tree branch like a fish on a hook outside my parent's bedroom window.
"Trying to escape, Frances?"
"No, Mom. Just..."
"Inside. Now."
She seemed to forget I was stuck, or felt being held captive by a grabby beech tree was a sufficent punishment for sneaking out on a Saturday night. Knowing my mother?
Yeah. Exactly.
I sighed, and sort of waved back and forth at their window, the cold air hitting my ass that was now hanging out for the whole neighbourhood to see.
"This can't be safe!" I screamed at the black window.
It took fifteen minutes of shouting before I heard the phone ring, my mother answer, then send my father out to get me.
"You're going to give her a heart attack," Dad said, his hands on his hips, squinting against the outside light.
I squinted back. "Mrs. Henderson called, didn't she."
"You woke the neighbours, Franny." Up the tree, he unhooked me and I grabbed on to his back.
"Do we have to go in?"
He just smiled, and as our feet touched the ground, I clutched at my exposed behind and followed him to my doom.
---
Who I Am - A Needlessly Boring Time-Filling Task To Open a New School Year, by Frances Goren.
My name is Frances Goren and I am currently sixteen and a half. Different from when I was sixteen straight, and even from yesterday, I am a typical Brooklyn teenager who's interests chop and change depending on my ever-changing moods and environmental influences.
I'm a Pisces, which is supposed to mean I'm dream-like and spiritual - somehow, I think I must have been born under the wrong moon. I'm not an athlete, I like books, I hate school and I loathe study. Most of all, I hate stupid essays where I'm asked to go into finite detail about my existance in order for you, the teacher, to better understand the monsters you're going to teach this year.
----
Through my bedroom wall, I can hear them talking. Half of the words are missing, but the sentiment's the same.
"...trouble. I just don't...hurt, Bobby."
Dad's voice is lower, more tired, and it's harder to hear his response. But I know what it is, if he were in the room beside me.
"She's gonna do what she wants to do, regardless of what we do to stop her."
And my mother? "And when we get the call from the M.E...?"
Leaning against the back of my bed, I pick up my Sidekick and send a message to Dominic.
Parentals caught me. Going to be grounded for eternity.
I'm finishing the message when my mother sticks her head into my room, her tiny frame half-hidden by the dark out in the hall and the door it's self. She looks tired, resigned - a lot of the same expressions I'd seen before, and I wave her in.
"What's the punishment, Warden?"
"Franny." She picks up a photo of her and Dad, a couple of years before I was born, stares at it as if they were dressed as carnival stars, then puts it down. "Franny."
"You said that already." I don't mean to sound bitchy, but I do, and I'm sixteen, and it's normal.
"Just. Just don't climb out of windows anymore, okay?"
And she leaves, just like that; no sarcastic puns or rants about safety, or capital punishments involving washing her ex-police captain's Hummer. She just leaves, closing the door behind her and I feel like...like I've been shafted, that a twister was promised and all I got was a slight rain and the moos of cows in the distance.
Not like Mom. Not at all.
Something is wrong, and I'm gonna find out what it is.
----
TBC.
I say this fic becomes Choose Your Own Adventure, but that's just moi.