Numb3rs drabble: Don't Make A Sound (Don/Amita, PG-13)
So I casually decided to check out numb3rs100 earlier today, and when I saw the current prompt ("Champagne") an idea popped into my head (not unlike a champagne cork? okay, no, nevermind. :-P) and I opened up my word processor and wrote this in about, oh. Maybe ten minutes. It was fun! First numb3rs_newyear, now this... I feel like I'm getting back into the fandom after being distracted by the pretty, angsty Winchester boys for a while. (Not that I'm abandoning them, ha. Wild horses couldn't drag me away.) So:
Title: Don't Make A Sound
Pairing/Characters: Don/Amita
Rating: PG-13ish (maybe a little higher, but there's nothing explicit)
Summary: His brother will never know.
Word Count: 100
Spoilers: none
Prompt: "Champagne" at numb3rs100.
Notes/Warnings: none, although, I guess in this fandom "het" deserves a warning. ;-) Part one of the Isosceles 'verse.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. This is all just for fun.
She's wearing a dress, for once. It's champagne-colored, loosely fitted, with beadwork and ribbons around the collar. Her wrists look small and delicate under gold bracelets.
She's just arrived at the party, laughing with his brother across the room. He bites his lip, glances at the clock. In a few hours she'll say she's tired and he'll offer to take her home.
His brother will never know. He'll still be here, smiling and talking to the other guests, and she'll be writhing with pleasure in his bed.
The dress will look better on his floor. He smiles. Happy New Year.
Title: Don't Make A Sound
Pairing/Characters: Don/Amita
Rating: PG-13ish (maybe a little higher, but there's nothing explicit)
Summary: His brother will never know.
Word Count: 100
Spoilers: none
Prompt: "Champagne" at numb3rs100.
Notes/Warnings: none, although, I guess in this fandom "het" deserves a warning. ;-) Part one of the Isosceles 'verse.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. This is all just for fun.
She's wearing a dress, for once. It's champagne-colored, loosely fitted, with beadwork and ribbons around the collar. Her wrists look small and delicate under gold bracelets.
She's just arrived at the party, laughing with his brother across the room. He bites his lip, glances at the clock. In a few hours she'll say she's tired and he'll offer to take her home.
His brother will never know. He'll still be here, smiling and talking to the other guests, and she'll be writhing with pleasure in his bed.
The dress will look better on his floor. He smiles. Happy New Year.