N3/SPN drabble: "Sunkissed" (Jo/Amita, PG)
I was going to talk about how I ate a lovely strawberry cupcake earlier today, but then I remembered I never posted this drabble, so that wouldn't seem significant to you guys. Haha. I wrote this at the beginning of May, btw.
Title: Sunkissed
Pairing: Jo/Amita
Rating: PG
Summary: Jo's never known anyone with an actual picnic basket before.
Word Count: 300
Spoilers: None
Notes/Warnings: Numb3rs/Supernatural crossover. Femmeslash. Unbetaed. Pretty much SWP--Schmoop Without Plot. (Forgive me.)
Prompt: "Taste" at numb3rs100 and "Picnic" from melissima
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, nor do I profit from their use here. This is only for fun.
Jo's never known anyone with an actual picnic basket before, but it somehow doesn't surprise her that Amita owns one. It fits her, sits right in the mix and match decor of her apartment, full of knickknacks and girly things, flowing skirts and sequined throw pillows that scratch Jo's arms, and worn out sweatpants and chipped cups that feel like home.
Jo teases her for the basket but Amita just raises an eyebrow and makes her carry the blanket while they walk.
When she opens the basket Jo has to admit she's impressed at the contents packed carefully inside. Pink-frosted cupcakes from the bakery that she'd brought home specially for the occasion, a whole stack of sandwiches cut diagonally, a bag of potato chips, containers of fruit salad, a chilled bottle of lemonade and a thermos of coffee.
The sandwiches are good, full of meat and cheese, and Jo doesn't even care when Amita smirks as she finishes her third one with a happy sigh.
"You're a good cook," she tells her, grinning.
Amita shrugs modestly and pops a grape into her mouth. "I try," she says.
After they've eaten they lie next to each other on the blanket, warm and sleepy from the food and the sun, and share a pair of earbuds for Amita's iPod, mellow music filling Jo's right ear while she listens to the sounds of the park, dogs and kids running around them, with her left. It's comfortable. Happy.
"Hey," she says, nudging Amita gently. She opens one eye, half asleep, and looks over curiously. Jo leans in and kisses her, tasting coffee and strawberry frosting, smiling when Amita hums quietly under her and shifting to face her better, one leg tucked between Amita's.
"I think we should have picnics more often," she whispers.
Title: Sunkissed
Pairing: Jo/Amita
Rating: PG
Summary: Jo's never known anyone with an actual picnic basket before.
Word Count: 300
Spoilers: None
Notes/Warnings: Numb3rs/Supernatural crossover. Femmeslash. Unbetaed. Pretty much SWP--Schmoop Without Plot. (Forgive me.)
Prompt: "Taste" at numb3rs100 and "Picnic" from melissima
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, nor do I profit from their use here. This is only for fun.
Jo's never known anyone with an actual picnic basket before, but it somehow doesn't surprise her that Amita owns one. It fits her, sits right in the mix and match decor of her apartment, full of knickknacks and girly things, flowing skirts and sequined throw pillows that scratch Jo's arms, and worn out sweatpants and chipped cups that feel like home.
Jo teases her for the basket but Amita just raises an eyebrow and makes her carry the blanket while they walk.
When she opens the basket Jo has to admit she's impressed at the contents packed carefully inside. Pink-frosted cupcakes from the bakery that she'd brought home specially for the occasion, a whole stack of sandwiches cut diagonally, a bag of potato chips, containers of fruit salad, a chilled bottle of lemonade and a thermos of coffee.
The sandwiches are good, full of meat and cheese, and Jo doesn't even care when Amita smirks as she finishes her third one with a happy sigh.
"You're a good cook," she tells her, grinning.
Amita shrugs modestly and pops a grape into her mouth. "I try," she says.
After they've eaten they lie next to each other on the blanket, warm and sleepy from the food and the sun, and share a pair of earbuds for Amita's iPod, mellow music filling Jo's right ear while she listens to the sounds of the park, dogs and kids running around them, with her left. It's comfortable. Happy.
"Hey," she says, nudging Amita gently. She opens one eye, half asleep, and looks over curiously. Jo leans in and kisses her, tasting coffee and strawberry frosting, smiling when Amita hums quietly under her and shifting to face her better, one leg tucked between Amita's.
"I think we should have picnics more often," she whispers.