ficlets: Farscape and Vampire Diaries
Wrote some ficlets today. Here they be.
For spinkkitty: Farscape -->> Aeryn - blue
She was getting too old for this. Perched on a short rooftop, assault rifle in hand and a spare strapped to her back, she saw him across the marketplace and smiled to herself. He wore a blue leather tunic and seemed to smile at each person he passed. Focusing her sight scope, she watched him over the end of the barrel, weaving in and out of booths as he walked in her direction.
She waited to lower her weapon until he was buying fruit a few stalls away. With interest, she watched as he gave the seller a few coins and took a paper bag from him, immediately popping a small berry into his mouth. He smiled as he ate, seeming to savor the fruit. She tried to imagine him cooking or eating it in someplace relaxing and beautiful, but all she could see was him sitting in the mess hall on the command carrier.
He would look better in red and black, she thought.
“Sun. Report?” came a female voice over her comm channel.
“Still in the market, Henta. No sign of it so far.” Aeryn raised her weapon once more and scooted to the edge of the roof.
“I haven’t seen anything all day. This training exercise is pointless, not to mention boring.” Aeryn listened to her friend and knew she could easily make the same complaint.
“It is nice to get off the command carrier though,” Henta said wistfully.
“I’d rather be in a prowler.” She fixed her scope’s sight on the man in blue again as he walked to the perimeter of the market. In another block he’d be out of sight, maybe going home to his family or to his occupation.
“Keep dreaming.” Aeryn heard a scoff over the line. “We won’t see prowlers for at least two more cycles.”
“Maybe you won’t.” She knew it was weak, and at thirteen cycles she should be past anything that would distract her from her duty, but she couldn’t stop herself.
He was most likely dead. She didn’t need to be told that, but she knew. This had to be the last time.
Weakness was not an option. She was going to fly prowlers one day.
“1300 hours, Aeryn. We have to report to Green.”
He was dead. And when he wasn’t, she never saw him as a peacekeeper. She always picked a civilian, and he was always alone in a crowd, always smiling, and always wearing blue.
“Meet you in a microt.”
This was the last time. Hope is weakness, she thought, and I know better.
She paused in her retreat to watch as the man disappeared around the corner. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath before shimmying off the edge of the roof to make her way through the market.
She was a peacekeeper and he was dead. She was going to be strong from now on.
When she reached the corner, she bowed her head and whispered, “Goodbye, Talyn.”
For lint138: Vampire Diaries -->> Damon - pepper, Thriller jacket
They sat together at the bar, not really talking but heads bent together like they wanted to block out the world. Every once in a while, she would put her head down on the bar and he would lean away from her like maybe she smelled bad for a moment. This time she looked over at him and he quickly leaned in and put his arm across the back of her chair.
If you got closer, say walked past them slowly on your way to the bathroom, you could see that his startlingly blue eyes didn’t leave her for a second. He had already been through two drinks when a basket of fries was put in front of her.
Someone moving to sit at the bar a few stools down from them might have been able to hear that they were actually talking now. He ordered another drink (sounded like he said “scotch”) with the flip of his wrist and pushed the fries toward her.
“Did you just put pepper on my fries?” the girl asked him. He had just sprinkled something from a shaker over the food and his reaction to her surprise was nonchalance displayed in a slow sip of alcohol.
“How did you--?” She stopped her own thought and just shook her head before eating a fry.
“You’re not that big of a mystery, Elena,” he said, curiously not looking at her anymore. “You put pepper on everything.” She scoffed and he smirked. If you leaned forward a little, you could see that she grinned while he was still looking away.
In silence, she ate and he drank, and just when you might think they weren’t worth the trouble, she turned toward him and said “I’m just so worried about him.”
He closed his eyes and breathed out before putting a hand on her back and whispering something in her ear. You wouldn’t necessarily be able to hear what was said, but you could see her nod and mouth “I know.”
It was a nice scene, intimate even, but watching them now might seem like an invasion of privacy. After a few moments it sounded like they were talking again, and she was even laughing.
“I swear,” he said animatedly, “I had the jacket!” She was laughing and shaking her head. “It was ’82, come on! Thriller was beyond cool, and I look damn good in red.”
He let his light eyes go wide and put his fingers out towards her as he quoted in a ridiculous voice, “Darkness falls across the land, the midnight hour is close at hand!” She had gotten to that point in laughter where her mouth was open but no sound was coming out and he couldn’t go on.
After their laughter had died down enough, she squeaked as he pelted her with uneaten fries.
“Thank you, Damon,” she said, her eyes still shining. “I needed that.”
“Don’t know what you mean.” She never got to respond because he jumped up quickly and went to stand behind her stool as another man walked up to them. The new guy looked a little, well dusty is the right word, but you wouldn’t be able to venture a guess as to why.
The girl leapt into the new one’s arms like she hadn’t seen him in years, and before you knew it they were gone without a word and he was sitting at the bar alone. He ordered another scotch, and if you happened to catch his eyes and they seemed somewhat darker and colder than before, you would probably just smile sympathetically and ask the bartender for your check, glad to be leaving.
For spinkkitty: Farscape -->> Aeryn - blue
She was getting too old for this. Perched on a short rooftop, assault rifle in hand and a spare strapped to her back, she saw him across the marketplace and smiled to herself. He wore a blue leather tunic and seemed to smile at each person he passed. Focusing her sight scope, she watched him over the end of the barrel, weaving in and out of booths as he walked in her direction.
She waited to lower her weapon until he was buying fruit a few stalls away. With interest, she watched as he gave the seller a few coins and took a paper bag from him, immediately popping a small berry into his mouth. He smiled as he ate, seeming to savor the fruit. She tried to imagine him cooking or eating it in someplace relaxing and beautiful, but all she could see was him sitting in the mess hall on the command carrier.
He would look better in red and black, she thought.
“Sun. Report?” came a female voice over her comm channel.
“Still in the market, Henta. No sign of it so far.” Aeryn raised her weapon once more and scooted to the edge of the roof.
“I haven’t seen anything all day. This training exercise is pointless, not to mention boring.” Aeryn listened to her friend and knew she could easily make the same complaint.
“It is nice to get off the command carrier though,” Henta said wistfully.
“I’d rather be in a prowler.” She fixed her scope’s sight on the man in blue again as he walked to the perimeter of the market. In another block he’d be out of sight, maybe going home to his family or to his occupation.
“Keep dreaming.” Aeryn heard a scoff over the line. “We won’t see prowlers for at least two more cycles.”
“Maybe you won’t.” She knew it was weak, and at thirteen cycles she should be past anything that would distract her from her duty, but she couldn’t stop herself.
He was most likely dead. She didn’t need to be told that, but she knew. This had to be the last time.
Weakness was not an option. She was going to fly prowlers one day.
“1300 hours, Aeryn. We have to report to Green.”
He was dead. And when he wasn’t, she never saw him as a peacekeeper. She always picked a civilian, and he was always alone in a crowd, always smiling, and always wearing blue.
“Meet you in a microt.”
This was the last time. Hope is weakness, she thought, and I know better.
She paused in her retreat to watch as the man disappeared around the corner. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath before shimmying off the edge of the roof to make her way through the market.
She was a peacekeeper and he was dead. She was going to be strong from now on.
When she reached the corner, she bowed her head and whispered, “Goodbye, Talyn.”
For lint138: Vampire Diaries -->> Damon - pepper, Thriller jacket
They sat together at the bar, not really talking but heads bent together like they wanted to block out the world. Every once in a while, she would put her head down on the bar and he would lean away from her like maybe she smelled bad for a moment. This time she looked over at him and he quickly leaned in and put his arm across the back of her chair.
If you got closer, say walked past them slowly on your way to the bathroom, you could see that his startlingly blue eyes didn’t leave her for a second. He had already been through two drinks when a basket of fries was put in front of her.
Someone moving to sit at the bar a few stools down from them might have been able to hear that they were actually talking now. He ordered another drink (sounded like he said “scotch”) with the flip of his wrist and pushed the fries toward her.
“Did you just put pepper on my fries?” the girl asked him. He had just sprinkled something from a shaker over the food and his reaction to her surprise was nonchalance displayed in a slow sip of alcohol.
“How did you--?” She stopped her own thought and just shook her head before eating a fry.
“You’re not that big of a mystery, Elena,” he said, curiously not looking at her anymore. “You put pepper on everything.” She scoffed and he smirked. If you leaned forward a little, you could see that she grinned while he was still looking away.
In silence, she ate and he drank, and just when you might think they weren’t worth the trouble, she turned toward him and said “I’m just so worried about him.”
He closed his eyes and breathed out before putting a hand on her back and whispering something in her ear. You wouldn’t necessarily be able to hear what was said, but you could see her nod and mouth “I know.”
It was a nice scene, intimate even, but watching them now might seem like an invasion of privacy. After a few moments it sounded like they were talking again, and she was even laughing.
“I swear,” he said animatedly, “I had the jacket!” She was laughing and shaking her head. “It was ’82, come on! Thriller was beyond cool, and I look damn good in red.”
He let his light eyes go wide and put his fingers out towards her as he quoted in a ridiculous voice, “Darkness falls across the land, the midnight hour is close at hand!” She had gotten to that point in laughter where her mouth was open but no sound was coming out and he couldn’t go on.
After their laughter had died down enough, she squeaked as he pelted her with uneaten fries.
“Thank you, Damon,” she said, her eyes still shining. “I needed that.”
“Don’t know what you mean.” She never got to respond because he jumped up quickly and went to stand behind her stool as another man walked up to them. The new guy looked a little, well dusty is the right word, but you wouldn’t be able to venture a guess as to why.
The girl leapt into the new one’s arms like she hadn’t seen him in years, and before you knew it they were gone without a word and he was sitting at the bar alone. He ordered another scotch, and if you happened to catch his eyes and they seemed somewhat darker and colder than before, you would probably just smile sympathetically and ask the bartender for your check, glad to be leaving.