Chocolate/Pistachio/Chocolate Chip Mint/Mocha smoothie
Authors: Marina and Casey
Story: Shifts universe (Tremors)
Challenge: Chocolate 12 (understanding), Pistachio 12 (an apology) [Marina]; Chocolate Chip Mint 17 (familiar), Mocha 17 (my own way) [Casey]
Toppings/Extras: Whipped Cream (Rand is fifteen), Smoothie
Word Count: 914
Rating: PG
Summary: Arguments between Drew and Rand are rare, but do happen.
Notes: There’s a scene in Tremors that was based on a NaNo dare, where Rand comes home after babysitting small girls who put him in a dress and hid his regular clothes. This takes place directly after that.
I stared at my book and tried to ignore Rand. I had been doing this for most of an hour, and he was about fed up with it. "Okay, Drew, I don't have the patience to put up with your shit tonight," he said, sitting on the coffee table in front of me and trying to look me in the eye. "What's going on?"
"Nothing," I muttered, staring fixedly at my book, ignoring his efforts.
"Yeah, I don't believe that. You didn't eat your dinner, you're not talking, and you've been making angry faces at everything since I got here. I bet you're not even really reading that book."
"Am too." I scowled now, though. "And it's none of your business if I'm not," I added.
"Your parents are going to be angry if they get home tomorrow and your food is still on the table," he pointed out.
"Whatever. Let 'em."
"All right, fine." He got up, catching up the remote control, and flopped back down into my dad's favorite leather armchair, turning on the TV. He found an episode of Jeopardy and settled in, seeming to tune me out.
"I'm not done," I said, annoyed at Rand for ignoring me.
"Done with what?"
That stymied me for a minute. "With you," I said, since that sounded sophisticated, or at least like some of the heroes I'd read about.
He did not look away from the TV. "Really? Because it seemed like you were, and I'm not going to just sit here and stare at you all night."
"Why do you have to be so...so...grown up?" I exploded.
"Because I'm five years older than you, and I happen to be babysitting you tonight," he said calmly.
I glowered at him. "You don't have to be so superior about it. See, I know big words too!"
"Congratulations. Sorry I don't have a medal for you."
I stuck my tongue out at him. "Don't be an ass."
Finally, Rand spared me a glare. "If I had a leg to stand on, I would be lecturing you for that right now," he said. "Since I don't, I'm just going to say it again. I really don't have the patience for this. I spent most of my afternoon with four sadistic little girls who thought it would be funny to dress me up and then hide my clothes, which almost made me late coming here, which would have pissed off your parents, and now you're throwing a fit at me just because I walked in the door."
"I'm ten years old!"
"That's not an excuse. If I did something, just say so instead of being a passive-aggressive little snot."
"You're acting all high and mighty. Telling me to eat my dinner and other stupid stuff," I snapped, fed up with being left with a babysitter, even if Rand was one of my best friends.
"I'm telling you to eat your dinner because your parents told me to," he said. "If you don't want to eat it, then that's your fault."
"Can't you just leave?" I grumbled.
"No, I can't. Your parents are paying me to stay overnight, and I need to be here when they get back."
"I can stay by myself."
"No, you can't."
"Why not? The building is locked. I'd be perfectly safe on my own."
"I just told you why. Your parents expect me to stay with you overnight."
"I'm not a baby!"
"Then stop acting like one!" he snapped.
"I wouldn't if you left me alone," I groused.
"Drew, I'm staying. Deal with it."
I glared at him and went back to my book with ill grace. He, in turn, redirected his attention to the TV and did not say another word.
***
I woke up early the next morning and rolled out of bed, heading out into the kitchen, thinking maybe I'd make breakfast as an apology. Rand was already there, sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and one of his books. I paused, uncertain. "Uh. Morning. Um. Want breakfast?"
He looked up, an amused smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You know how to cook?"
I glared before remembering I was trying to play nice. "Yes," I said, with a grumpy edge.
"Sure, then."
I slipped into the kitchen and starting mixing up pancake mix. "Let me know if I can help," Rand said, eyes already back on his book.
I sighed. "Rand...I..." He looked up, coffee halfway to his lips. I stared at my bare feet. "Sorry."
He put the mug down. "Yeah, I am too."
"It's just...it's not you. I don't understand why my parents...you know."
Rand shrugged. "They just feel safer if you have someone with you."
"But I'm perfectly safe! I know how to lock the door and not to open it for strangers and all that."
"You're talking to the wrong person, Drew," he said, smiling a little.
"Well, they don't listen."
"Maybe they just want you to be a little older before they leave you on your own. I don't know. Anyway, don't think of it like that. When they go out, we get to hang out. I don't have to be 'the babysitter,' and honestly, I don't like pulling that card with you."
I frowned. "But it's hard to forget. It's not you, Rand, I promise. I like hanging out with you."
"Just don't take it out on me next time."
I winced. "I won't. Sorry. Eggs?"
"Sure, thanks."
Story: Shifts universe (Tremors)
Challenge: Chocolate 12 (understanding), Pistachio 12 (an apology) [Marina]; Chocolate Chip Mint 17 (familiar), Mocha 17 (my own way) [Casey]
Toppings/Extras: Whipped Cream (Rand is fifteen), Smoothie
Word Count: 914
Rating: PG
Summary: Arguments between Drew and Rand are rare, but do happen.
Notes: There’s a scene in Tremors that was based on a NaNo dare, where Rand comes home after babysitting small girls who put him in a dress and hid his regular clothes. This takes place directly after that.
I stared at my book and tried to ignore Rand. I had been doing this for most of an hour, and he was about fed up with it. "Okay, Drew, I don't have the patience to put up with your shit tonight," he said, sitting on the coffee table in front of me and trying to look me in the eye. "What's going on?"
"Nothing," I muttered, staring fixedly at my book, ignoring his efforts.
"Yeah, I don't believe that. You didn't eat your dinner, you're not talking, and you've been making angry faces at everything since I got here. I bet you're not even really reading that book."
"Am too." I scowled now, though. "And it's none of your business if I'm not," I added.
"Your parents are going to be angry if they get home tomorrow and your food is still on the table," he pointed out.
"Whatever. Let 'em."
"All right, fine." He got up, catching up the remote control, and flopped back down into my dad's favorite leather armchair, turning on the TV. He found an episode of Jeopardy and settled in, seeming to tune me out.
"I'm not done," I said, annoyed at Rand for ignoring me.
"Done with what?"
That stymied me for a minute. "With you," I said, since that sounded sophisticated, or at least like some of the heroes I'd read about.
He did not look away from the TV. "Really? Because it seemed like you were, and I'm not going to just sit here and stare at you all night."
"Why do you have to be so...so...grown up?" I exploded.
"Because I'm five years older than you, and I happen to be babysitting you tonight," he said calmly.
I glowered at him. "You don't have to be so superior about it. See, I know big words too!"
"Congratulations. Sorry I don't have a medal for you."
I stuck my tongue out at him. "Don't be an ass."
Finally, Rand spared me a glare. "If I had a leg to stand on, I would be lecturing you for that right now," he said. "Since I don't, I'm just going to say it again. I really don't have the patience for this. I spent most of my afternoon with four sadistic little girls who thought it would be funny to dress me up and then hide my clothes, which almost made me late coming here, which would have pissed off your parents, and now you're throwing a fit at me just because I walked in the door."
"I'm ten years old!"
"That's not an excuse. If I did something, just say so instead of being a passive-aggressive little snot."
"You're acting all high and mighty. Telling me to eat my dinner and other stupid stuff," I snapped, fed up with being left with a babysitter, even if Rand was one of my best friends.
"I'm telling you to eat your dinner because your parents told me to," he said. "If you don't want to eat it, then that's your fault."
"Can't you just leave?" I grumbled.
"No, I can't. Your parents are paying me to stay overnight, and I need to be here when they get back."
"I can stay by myself."
"No, you can't."
"Why not? The building is locked. I'd be perfectly safe on my own."
"I just told you why. Your parents expect me to stay with you overnight."
"I'm not a baby!"
"Then stop acting like one!" he snapped.
"I wouldn't if you left me alone," I groused.
"Drew, I'm staying. Deal with it."
I glared at him and went back to my book with ill grace. He, in turn, redirected his attention to the TV and did not say another word.
***
I woke up early the next morning and rolled out of bed, heading out into the kitchen, thinking maybe I'd make breakfast as an apology. Rand was already there, sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and one of his books. I paused, uncertain. "Uh. Morning. Um. Want breakfast?"
He looked up, an amused smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You know how to cook?"
I glared before remembering I was trying to play nice. "Yes," I said, with a grumpy edge.
"Sure, then."
I slipped into the kitchen and starting mixing up pancake mix. "Let me know if I can help," Rand said, eyes already back on his book.
I sighed. "Rand...I..." He looked up, coffee halfway to his lips. I stared at my bare feet. "Sorry."
He put the mug down. "Yeah, I am too."
"It's just...it's not you. I don't understand why my parents...you know."
Rand shrugged. "They just feel safer if you have someone with you."
"But I'm perfectly safe! I know how to lock the door and not to open it for strangers and all that."
"You're talking to the wrong person, Drew," he said, smiling a little.
"Well, they don't listen."
"Maybe they just want you to be a little older before they leave you on your own. I don't know. Anyway, don't think of it like that. When they go out, we get to hang out. I don't have to be 'the babysitter,' and honestly, I don't like pulling that card with you."
I frowned. "But it's hard to forget. It's not you, Rand, I promise. I like hanging out with you."
"Just don't take it out on me next time."
I winced. "I won't. Sorry. Eggs?"
"Sure, thanks."