she can write something beside third watch fics [aka multifandom drabbles]
So, yes, I wrote these in November and therefore there was a Thanksgiving theme to two of them.
Even more shocking, they are multifandom drabbles including a fandom I have never ever written for and another I have never posted any for.
Disclaimer: None of these amazing characters belong to me. -sad face-
Note: *~* includes a new drabble.
“NYPD. “Don’t even think about.”
“I’d like to see you try, Dudley Do- Right.”
“Hand it over.”
Smiling prettily at the baffled waitress, the younger man whispers something.
“I am arrestin’ you for ---"
“This is really good.”
“Is there a problem here?”
“He stole -"
“This fancy boy is commandeering my -"
“So, you both won’t mind if I get the one they just put out?”
“That’s mine, pretty boy.”
“I do love me some -“
“Hey, man. You want some cake?”
“CAKE?”
Running a hand through his spiky hair, the younger man sighs. “Don’t even try man. He’s hopeless.”
*~*
He’s very disarming. Once the logical part of her brain shuts off and forgets who he really is and what he’s done, she enjoys his company.
Smart girls wouldn’t fall for his charm, that lilting voice, the teasing, and the soft smile.
And she’s a smart girl, she whispers to herself.
“I fancy you.”
His words echo through her soul.
She can’t give him. She won’t.
His boyish hesitant gaze tugs deep at her. For the first time since she’s known him, she can’t bear to hurt him with words.
She sees him. Really sees him. Suddenly he becomes a shy oddly sweet man who presents her with a drawing.
A glimpse of the world he wants to show her.
Tracing her fingers over the paper, she smiles, whispering thank you.
His grin loosens another thread around her heart.
*~*
From a distance, she looks so young and lost. Tucked in the leather seat, she’s just another commuter in a busy train station.
The sight breaks his heart.
He remembers, those brief conversations with her, understanding why she finds solace here in one of the busiest and loudest places he can possibly think of.
It helps to chase away the loneliness and isolation she feels day in and out.
Mindful of the many eyes around him, he zigzags across the station, stopping at the newsstand first to browse at magazines, then spends several minutes watching the arrival and departure board before moving to where she’s sitting.
As he eases into the seat behind her, he already has a speech prepared, wishing he could take back those moments when he doubted her. Hoping that he still had a chance to prove himself to her.
Mostly, he wants her to know she’s not alone in this fight. She’s lost so much over the years, been hurt and betrayed so many times that he’s amazed by her endless determination.
His eyes glance around the main waiting room, familiar sounds of people rushing back and forth, he’s reminded why he’s fighting for her.
All he wants to give her is this. A chance at a normal life.
He knows the risks of what she’s planning to get Will back safely and a part of him can’t stop rattling off everything that could go wrong with her decision but he decides Sydney is worth the risk.
And if she’ll let him, he wants to be by her side, and fight with her. Even it means one day, her normal life won’t include him.
*~*
Since she can’t go home for Thanksgiving, Daniel decides to bring the holiday to here in London. He knows it won’t be the same without her family but he wants to give her a reason to smile.
In between going on interviews and networking, he sends emails and Skype with her family to help him plan a surprise gathering on the weekend.
He finds kindred spirits in a few other Americans in her office who happily agree to keep Betty occupied and help with the shopping and cooking.
With his culinary skills severely lacking, he handles the decorations and the planning. Christina chuckles at his frantic emails, reassuring him in her lilting voice, that Betty will love it, and be very touched.
He blushes as the former stream stress presses him about why he’s so adamant in creating the perfect Thanksgiving for his former assistant, teasing him that he sounds like a boyfriend.
Daniel groans, quickly deterring Betty’s best friend from prying anymore by asking her about William.
Christina, he grudgingly admits, was right. Everything goes off without a hitch. Betty lets out a gasp when she’s pushed into one of her coworkers’ flat, her eyes widening at the group shouting Happy Thanksgiving.
He stands in the corner, sipping on a glass of red wine, content in watching Betty embrace her friends and tearfully greet a beaming Christina.
Later, as they sit around the table, filling up on delicious food and wine, he’s startled when Betty switches seats, sliding into the chair next to him, her radiant smile directed at him.
“Daniel, this is .. just thank you.”
He stares at her, overwhelmed by the moment, forcing himself to say something than looking like an idiot. A foolish love struck idiot.
She watches him for several seconds before leaning closer, her hand grasping his tightly, and he feels slightly unnerved by her scruntising eyes.
Raising an eyebrow, she grins before her attention is drawn to the end of the table.
He has to stop himself from grinning all night when her hand never leaves his.
This woman was going to be the death of him.
*~*
“You were cute.”
Micah blushes, ducking his head at her teasing voice. “I was six.”
Emily smiles, fingers brushing against the photograph. It’s one of the many he’s found in the last six months in the photo boxes his Mother collected over the years.
A vague memory tugs at him. He had been so proud standing there with his white robe and doctors’ kit diagnosing his ‘patient’ when a flash had distracted him enough to see his mother standing there with a camera.
He had pouted for weeks, begging his Mom not to put the picture on the mantle, promising he’d be good when it was time for school pictures and not make funny faces.
She shook her head, hugging him tightly, whispering I love you Micah Mouse. You are going to be a wonderful doctor one day.
“Micah.”
He snaps back to reality at the sound of Emily’s concerned voice, blinking back tears. He tiredly rubs a hand over his chin.
She squeezes his arm gently. “She loved you so much. She talked about you all the time and how proud she was.”
Leaning closer to her, he’s comforted by the warmth of her hand, her presence offering him a rare moment of peace.
“Micah Mouse.”
Emily looks at him with puzzled eyes.
He tries to inject some levity into his words. “My childhood nickname. I can’t even remember why she started calling me that but it stuck and -"
Her hair brushes against his shoulder. “Micah, I -"
“Thank you.”
She blinks at him. “You don’t need to after everything that happened and -"
He chuckles. “Dr. Owens, thank you. She cared about you a lot.”
“I liked her too. I am glad I got a chance to know her.”
Micah gently takes the photograph from her hand, their fingers brushing, and he feels a familiar jolt.
He tempers the disappointment in knowing that she probably doesn’t. That she might never really see him as more than just a coworker and friend.
“Have a good night, Micah Mouse.”
He glares at her twinkling eyes. For a moment, they hold each other’s gaze, before she bends down, her lips brushing against his cheek.
She freezes, her face flushing. “I ---"
As she stumbles out of the call room, he lets out a shaky breath, his eyes glancing at the photograph.
Somewhere his Mother has her I told you so look on her face.
FIN
AN: The Daniel/Betty drabble was inspired by my own experience of being overseas and thanks to friends, they helped ease my homesickness and take part in an American tradition.
There are several fandoms which I did want to tackle but didn't in this batch and I am hoping my muse will be sparked soon and allow me to do so.
Even more shocking, they are multifandom drabbles including a fandom I have never ever written for and another I have never posted any for.
Disclaimer: None of these amazing characters belong to me. -sad face-
Note: *~* includes a new drabble.
“NYPD. “Don’t even think about.”
“I’d like to see you try, Dudley Do- Right.”
“Hand it over.”
Smiling prettily at the baffled waitress, the younger man whispers something.
“I am arrestin’ you for ---"
“This is really good.”
“Is there a problem here?”
“He stole -"
“This fancy boy is commandeering my -"
“So, you both won’t mind if I get the one they just put out?”
“That’s mine, pretty boy.”
“I do love me some -“
“Hey, man. You want some cake?”
“CAKE?”
Running a hand through his spiky hair, the younger man sighs. “Don’t even try man. He’s hopeless.”
*~*
He’s very disarming. Once the logical part of her brain shuts off and forgets who he really is and what he’s done, she enjoys his company.
Smart girls wouldn’t fall for his charm, that lilting voice, the teasing, and the soft smile.
And she’s a smart girl, she whispers to herself.
“I fancy you.”
His words echo through her soul.
She can’t give him. She won’t.
His boyish hesitant gaze tugs deep at her. For the first time since she’s known him, she can’t bear to hurt him with words.
She sees him. Really sees him. Suddenly he becomes a shy oddly sweet man who presents her with a drawing.
A glimpse of the world he wants to show her.
Tracing her fingers over the paper, she smiles, whispering thank you.
His grin loosens another thread around her heart.
*~*
From a distance, she looks so young and lost. Tucked in the leather seat, she’s just another commuter in a busy train station.
The sight breaks his heart.
He remembers, those brief conversations with her, understanding why she finds solace here in one of the busiest and loudest places he can possibly think of.
It helps to chase away the loneliness and isolation she feels day in and out.
Mindful of the many eyes around him, he zigzags across the station, stopping at the newsstand first to browse at magazines, then spends several minutes watching the arrival and departure board before moving to where she’s sitting.
As he eases into the seat behind her, he already has a speech prepared, wishing he could take back those moments when he doubted her. Hoping that he still had a chance to prove himself to her.
Mostly, he wants her to know she’s not alone in this fight. She’s lost so much over the years, been hurt and betrayed so many times that he’s amazed by her endless determination.
His eyes glance around the main waiting room, familiar sounds of people rushing back and forth, he’s reminded why he’s fighting for her.
All he wants to give her is this. A chance at a normal life.
He knows the risks of what she’s planning to get Will back safely and a part of him can’t stop rattling off everything that could go wrong with her decision but he decides Sydney is worth the risk.
And if she’ll let him, he wants to be by her side, and fight with her. Even it means one day, her normal life won’t include him.
*~*
Since she can’t go home for Thanksgiving, Daniel decides to bring the holiday to here in London. He knows it won’t be the same without her family but he wants to give her a reason to smile.
In between going on interviews and networking, he sends emails and Skype with her family to help him plan a surprise gathering on the weekend.
He finds kindred spirits in a few other Americans in her office who happily agree to keep Betty occupied and help with the shopping and cooking.
With his culinary skills severely lacking, he handles the decorations and the planning. Christina chuckles at his frantic emails, reassuring him in her lilting voice, that Betty will love it, and be very touched.
He blushes as the former stream stress presses him about why he’s so adamant in creating the perfect Thanksgiving for his former assistant, teasing him that he sounds like a boyfriend.
Daniel groans, quickly deterring Betty’s best friend from prying anymore by asking her about William.
Christina, he grudgingly admits, was right. Everything goes off without a hitch. Betty lets out a gasp when she’s pushed into one of her coworkers’ flat, her eyes widening at the group shouting Happy Thanksgiving.
He stands in the corner, sipping on a glass of red wine, content in watching Betty embrace her friends and tearfully greet a beaming Christina.
Later, as they sit around the table, filling up on delicious food and wine, he’s startled when Betty switches seats, sliding into the chair next to him, her radiant smile directed at him.
“Daniel, this is .. just thank you.”
He stares at her, overwhelmed by the moment, forcing himself to say something than looking like an idiot. A foolish love struck idiot.
She watches him for several seconds before leaning closer, her hand grasping his tightly, and he feels slightly unnerved by her scruntising eyes.
Raising an eyebrow, she grins before her attention is drawn to the end of the table.
He has to stop himself from grinning all night when her hand never leaves his.
This woman was going to be the death of him.
*~*
“You were cute.”
Micah blushes, ducking his head at her teasing voice. “I was six.”
Emily smiles, fingers brushing against the photograph. It’s one of the many he’s found in the last six months in the photo boxes his Mother collected over the years.
A vague memory tugs at him. He had been so proud standing there with his white robe and doctors’ kit diagnosing his ‘patient’ when a flash had distracted him enough to see his mother standing there with a camera.
He had pouted for weeks, begging his Mom not to put the picture on the mantle, promising he’d be good when it was time for school pictures and not make funny faces.
She shook her head, hugging him tightly, whispering I love you Micah Mouse. You are going to be a wonderful doctor one day.
“Micah.”
He snaps back to reality at the sound of Emily’s concerned voice, blinking back tears. He tiredly rubs a hand over his chin.
She squeezes his arm gently. “She loved you so much. She talked about you all the time and how proud she was.”
Leaning closer to her, he’s comforted by the warmth of her hand, her presence offering him a rare moment of peace.
“Micah Mouse.”
Emily looks at him with puzzled eyes.
He tries to inject some levity into his words. “My childhood nickname. I can’t even remember why she started calling me that but it stuck and -"
Her hair brushes against his shoulder. “Micah, I -"
“Thank you.”
She blinks at him. “You don’t need to after everything that happened and -"
He chuckles. “Dr. Owens, thank you. She cared about you a lot.”
“I liked her too. I am glad I got a chance to know her.”
Micah gently takes the photograph from her hand, their fingers brushing, and he feels a familiar jolt.
He tempers the disappointment in knowing that she probably doesn’t. That she might never really see him as more than just a coworker and friend.
“Have a good night, Micah Mouse.”
He glares at her twinkling eyes. For a moment, they hold each other’s gaze, before she bends down, her lips brushing against his cheek.
She freezes, her face flushing. “I ---"
As she stumbles out of the call room, he lets out a shaky breath, his eyes glancing at the photograph.
Somewhere his Mother has her I told you so look on her face.
FIN
AN: The Daniel/Betty drabble was inspired by my own experience of being overseas and thanks to friends, they helped ease my homesickness and take part in an American tradition.
There are several fandoms which I did want to tackle but didn't in this batch and I am hoping my muse will be sparked soon and allow me to do so.