One King, Two Queens (Alan/Milly, Alan/Margaret-past, G)
Posted for the n3_challenge: Alan’s birthday…
Title: One King, Two Queens
Pairing/Characters: Alan, Margaret, Milly
Rating: G
Word Count: 300
Summary: It's your move, Alan.
Spoilers: none.
Notes/Warnings: As soon as I read the challenge for this month, the words "It's your move, Alan" popped into my head. I assumed it would turn into a full length fic. So, I sketched out the thoughts in my head. I typed them up in about five minutes, and I read what I wrote. I checked the word count. EXACTLY 300...I took it as a sign to leave well enough alone. So, instead of a full length fic, I wrote a drabble for the challenge. :) (I ♥ my beta, julietm).
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, regrettably - it's not mine.
He looked across the table at his opponent, considering her fondly with his chin resting on his cris-crossed fingers. He was lost in the thoughts of his current situation - his queen, the king, two pawns…
“Alan… it’s your move.”
His heart skipped a beat at the words. He hadn’t heard that voice in five years… and he wasn’t sure why he was hearing it now.
Slowly he turned his head, and what he saw should have sent him tumbling out of his chair.
“Margaret?” he spoke and his voice rattled.
“It’s your move, sweetheart.”
“What… I mean, how… ” he sputtered, wanting to reach out and touch her but somehow knowing it wasn’t allowed.
“It’s okay, Alan. I really don’t mind.”
“Don’t mind what?”
“This,” she smiled and gestured with her hand over the chessboard before him.
He was getting more confused.
“I like her Alan. She’s got fire. Spunk.”
“She’s not you,” he replied, and his fingers ached to touch her.
“No one ever will be,” she answered, her smile apologetic.
“Charlie’s concerned.”
“Charlie’s got his own life.”
“Donnie’s not said anything.”
“And he won’t. You know that. But he likes her.”
“He does?”
“They both like her. She’s good for you… good for all of you.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. Who else could give you boys such a hard time with a smile on her face?”
“You could.”
“She’s not me,” she sighed, and her hand touched his cheek.
“No one ever will be… ” he breathed as if finally letting go.
“Alan… it’s your move.”
He was snapped back to reality. And again Milly spoke, “It’s your move.”
“Yeah… yeah it is,” he sighed, standing enough to reach across the table, taking her face in his hands just seconds before his lips washed over hers.
Title: One King, Two Queens
Pairing/Characters: Alan, Margaret, Milly
Rating: G
Word Count: 300
Summary: It's your move, Alan.
Spoilers: none.
Notes/Warnings: As soon as I read the challenge for this month, the words "It's your move, Alan" popped into my head. I assumed it would turn into a full length fic. So, I sketched out the thoughts in my head. I typed them up in about five minutes, and I read what I wrote. I checked the word count. EXACTLY 300...I took it as a sign to leave well enough alone. So, instead of a full length fic, I wrote a drabble for the challenge. :) (I ♥ my beta, julietm).
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, regrettably - it's not mine.
He looked across the table at his opponent, considering her fondly with his chin resting on his cris-crossed fingers. He was lost in the thoughts of his current situation - his queen, the king, two pawns…
“Alan… it’s your move.”
His heart skipped a beat at the words. He hadn’t heard that voice in five years… and he wasn’t sure why he was hearing it now.
Slowly he turned his head, and what he saw should have sent him tumbling out of his chair.
“Margaret?” he spoke and his voice rattled.
“It’s your move, sweetheart.”
“What… I mean, how… ” he sputtered, wanting to reach out and touch her but somehow knowing it wasn’t allowed.
“It’s okay, Alan. I really don’t mind.”
“Don’t mind what?”
“This,” she smiled and gestured with her hand over the chessboard before him.
He was getting more confused.
“I like her Alan. She’s got fire. Spunk.”
“She’s not you,” he replied, and his fingers ached to touch her.
“No one ever will be,” she answered, her smile apologetic.
“Charlie’s concerned.”
“Charlie’s got his own life.”
“Donnie’s not said anything.”
“And he won’t. You know that. But he likes her.”
“He does?”
“They both like her. She’s good for you… good for all of you.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. Who else could give you boys such a hard time with a smile on her face?”
“You could.”
“She’s not me,” she sighed, and her hand touched his cheek.
“No one ever will be… ” he breathed as if finally letting go.
“Alan… it’s your move.”
He was snapped back to reality. And again Milly spoke, “It’s your move.”
“Yeah… yeah it is,” he sighed, standing enough to reach across the table, taking her face in his hands just seconds before his lips washed over hers.