Tomorrow, Wednesday, August 8, the 2012 round
fkficfest will be over, which makes it time for the dead dog party for those still inspired by their recent FK writing and reading.
This is the post for the drabble/ficlet/comment-fic stories that will make up the Dead Dog Party for
fkficfest 2012. ANYONE may participate by writing, reading and cheerleading (all you
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On the Doorstep
How do you tell a man his wife is dead and he wasn’t there to protect her? Not, thought Reese, that there was much the guy could have done to save her. But what words were right? He was off the street and out of practice-it was years since he’d talked to the bereaved-and now there were two dead cops on his watch, and another call still to make after this.
Yet it would not be words that told Cohen, Reese knew, but the sight of him grieving on the doorstep, in his uniform with all the brass.
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(I have been mostly offline from fandom for some weeks. Please forgive my slow reply. I expect to be on and off for some weeks yet, but to get to return to normal in November.)
We sometimes see Nick, Schanke and Tracy do notifications, but almost always it is in a context when they are playing double-duty as investigators as well as messengers, observing the bereaved for clues. Captain Cohen's death notification, of course, is different from most of those in having no tinge of suspicion and no need to investigate Mr. Cohen, as well as in being one of their own.
Come to think of it, we never got to see any of our detectives or captains in their formal uniforms, did we? Except that photograph of Cohen...
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Logically, there should have been one, somewhere along that wall-but maybe they couldn't be bothered with the expense of kitting Blu Mankuma out in a dress uniform just in order to photograph him for a prop.
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Nick looked up at the Captain, read his expression, and concerned said, "Captain, you really don't believe any of that stuff do you. You /you/ know /know/ you /you/ really /really/ don't /don’t/ /don't/." (His voice faded like an echo.)
Reese said, "Huh, um, . . . what? Oh, no, 'course not. Now what's the latest on the Griswald case?"
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I've long found it intriguing that while Natalie objects to Nick using most of his supernatural powers, she seems to revel in hypnotism... on other people only, of course; she would doubtless object strenuously to its use on her. For myself, I believe that it cannot be good for Nick, psychologically or morally, to manipulate people this way (unless he genuinely has no other way to protect them).
Thanks for taking up Reese and sharing more of him with us!
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“If anything happens to me,” Urs said once, abruptly, “I want you to leave me in the sun. If I can’t have a Christian burial, I’d rather just...go.”
“I’ll sweep you out with the dust,” he said, lightly. It wasn’t a joking matter (and he wasn’t surprised to see her wince), but it did shut her up. It was not something he wanted to think about ( ... )
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>"It was not something he wanted to think about."
That sounds like Vachon and Urs as I know them: Urs bursting out with something serious suddenly after long dwelling on it, with Vachon simultaneously promising anything for friendship and pushing away the difficulties of being confided in and turned to.
>"Screed’s pitiful collection of ratsI'm no expert on Screed stories -- Libby would know :-) -- but I cannot remember anyone previously addressing the possibility that the pinned-up rats were a regular thing, were alive, and were left to starve on Screed's death! Fascinating! A perverse pet ownership... Without ever having pondered the situation, I had always supposed that the rats were dead and were ( ... )
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Obviously, live rats were employed when the scene required them to run across the floor, or the like. However, when staging the pegged-rats scene, they clearly used models-the brown version of the Ratsie-Wot-Killed-Screed (or however Libratsie spells it). Since these didn't move, I'm sure most people took them for dead. I doubt, though, if Screed would find it as practical as draining them live.
Checking NAT's screen caps, by the way, the container he uses is a jam jar.
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