April Drabbles
As offered here. Eleven drabbles in nine fandoms.
Jericho
For vaznetti, on that flag.
The Cheyenne government restored order in Jericho and beyond, but Heather never rid herself of the gut-clenching wrongness when she saw vertical red and white stripes. Watching Beck's officers rip flag patches off their uniforms, discovering Gray Anderson sitting beneath a rattlesnake on a yellow field, the Allied States flag crumpled on the ground -- Heather knew that Jericho's suffering would not stand. The injustices after the bombs wouldn't continue. Flags are only symbols, yet they still matter. Jericho would rally, and forestall any attempts at betrayal.
For Bonnie, for the victims of New Bern, they could do no less.
For aurora_84, Jake and Hawkins, post-series.
Hospital monitors beeped, but Hawkins looked better than when he nearly bled out in Cheyenne.
"They're debating," Jake said. "It's pretty clear that they know the right thing to do."
Hawkins nodded.
Jake quirked his lips. "Sometimes, a debate just messes things up."
He wouldn't regret that Hawkins was here, alive, no matter the risk.
Silence fell, and Jake let his mind still for a few precious moments before saying, "If we want to return to Jericho, they'll help."
Hawkins immediately replied, "We need to wait, to see what they decide."
"I thought so," Jake said. "The mission continues, right?"
Terminator
For zeplum, John and Derek, teaching.
"It's such a waste," John said with the sulkiness only a teenager can muster. "I'm not going to need to know how to analyze a poem after Judgment Day."
Derek glanced over to where John was flipping through textbooks. "You once told me finishing high school was one of the most important things you'd done."
John looked skeptical. "Really?"
"Really." Derek didn't volunteer that the end of the conversation was about making contacts and building networks among feuding cliques.
Sarah already thought John was too lackadaisical about his education. And she wouldn't make pancakes if she were angry at them.
For elishavah, cookies.
Double drabble.
Teenaged boys were a bottomless pit of hunger, as far as Sarah could tell.
"John!" she yelled. "Did you finish the Oreos again?"
He poked his head out of his bedroom, hair falling into his eyes. She should make him cut it, but that was a battle more hopeless than taking out a Terminator.
He was nonchalant. "Yeah."
"Did you put them on the list?"
"No."
"Then how will I know to get more?" Planning. Planning was key, and she'd tried to teach him but he never seemed to learn.
"We could bake," he offered. He always came up with another tactic. It was probably why he'd be able to defeat the machines, but it was damn frustrating to deal with every day.
"You want to bake," she said, not quite believing.
"Chocolate chip cookies?"
"You just want to eat the batter raw." She knew her son, even if she didn't always let him in on the secret.
His smile quirked the corners of his mouth, and she saw him shrug.
"Right. Bake." It wasn't more difficult than making nitroglycerin, and John started doing that years ago.
Sarah would tell Cameron to stay in the kitchen, though. Just in case.
Criminal Minds
For tenshinya, Reid and his mother. Post-Revelations.
She sat in the sunlight, reflective.
Spencer stood in the doorway for a long while, watching her stare out the window, before he said, "Hello."
She turned, and her smile was radiant. "Spencer! Come give me a kiss."
He obeyed, only limping slightly while the vials in his pocket clinked.
"You've hurt yourself." Her voice was worried. "You never said, in your letters."
"It was." He didn't meet her eyes. "I couldn't write."
Her hand reached out to touch his wrist, still pale yellow from the fading bruises.
"Tell me, Spencer."
After, she hugged him while he blinked away tears.
Criminal Minds/NCIS
For cedara, Abby meets Penelope Garcia via webcam, during a case.
"Divine goddess of the BAU." Garcia answered the phone without even thinking.
"Oh, wow, that's a good one. I'll have to remember."
The voice on the other end of the line was unfamiliar.
"Who is this?" Dread tickled.
"Abby Scuito, NCIS. The Breslin murders? I'm forensics, and need to get with you on the hard drive question."
The encryption was robust, but nothing Garcia couldn't handle. The information, though …
"Let's caucus," Garcia said, and set up a web-conference. The woman who grinned from the opposite side was definitely someone Garcia could work with.
"Oh, this'll be fun," Abby crowed.
Cupid
For serialkarma, Alex/Claire, apartment mishaps.
Claire had been chatting with Alex for almost an hour, both of them puttering around completing chores, when Alex's voice spiked with frustration: "Damn it!"
"What's wrong?" Claire asked, prepared to be amused. Alex's place in New York had been plagued by one appliance-related mishap after another, and she was more than a little bit smug that she owned a house instead of paying rent in some high-rise.
"The water's gone cold again."
Claire smiled at his petulance. "Well then, I'll just have to get you all hot and bothered, won't I? Then a cold shower will be a necessity."
Gossip Girl
For redwinevinegar, Blair Waldorf as a freshman, learning lessons.
The girl's hair was a glorious fall of red hanging midway down her back. Blair watched, open-mouthed, as she played two boys off against each other. Margot ruled Constance Billard with an iron fist veiled in Prada's latest, most-fashionable gloves.
"You," she snapped at Blair. "Freshman. Come here."
Blair approached warily. Margot was a senior.
"Take these books back to the library for me."
Blair clutched them to her chest, and waited.
"And if you get me Mitchell's schedule," Margot continued, "you can come to my sleepover this weekend."
Delight bubbled up and Blair smiled. She would ace this assignment.
The O.C.
For maudgonne, Sandy's thoughts on Ryan. (Set after the final scene of the last episode)
The kid was hunched in the corner, body language screaming defensiveness.
Sandy met Ryan's eyes, and the déjà vu was so strong that Sandy half-expected Seth to meander in wearing a ridiculous t-shirt. Instead, Sophie tumbled around his knees, practicing her gymnastics.
And Ryan wasn't on the brink of disaster.
"His home life's awful," Ryan muttered, face tilted down. "And I couldn't just leave him there."
"Of course you couldn't," Sandy said.
"But how -"
"We'll figure it out, Ryan." Taylor walked in and gave the kid a soda. "All of us, together."
Like a family , blood or chosen, should.
V
For djfanboy, Martin and Philip, before Martin ships out with the fleet. (With thanks to Wikipedia for show details, omg)
"You'll have to be careful," Philip warned. "Diana's treachery is well documented, and the humans are unpredictable."
Martin patted his brother's shoulder. It was so strange to see Martin disguised in pinkish flesh and blond hair. "Someone has to prevent another Kisszizk."
The images from that devastated planet were horrific. Earth seemed so peaceful, blue-green and brown, orbiting a warm yellow sun. Even their wars were as nothing to those waged when the Leader took power.
"Do your best," Philip said. "But return to me."
Martin tested his new lips with a smile. "I will."
Philip wished he believed it.
Bandom: Panic(!) at the Disco
For arsenicjade, Ryan/Spencer, comfort. (the people are real, the story is fiction, and if you are/know them I don't want to hear about it)
Triple drabble
It was raining out, or, not rain exactly: mist, dampening Spencer's hair as he walked back to the bus after a breakfast where he'd had to decline kippers, of all things. He huddled into his leather jacket, mentally grumbling about jet lag and their hectic tour schedule.
He actually yawned as he opened the bus door and went to slump into the couch. Brendon and Jon were off somewhere, probably scoping out the local curry shops for lunch - freaks - and the couch was so cozy, a blanket laid across the top as if it were waiting for Spencer's hands to tug it across his legs.
Fatigue crashed over him in waves, too strong to be resisted. Before he could go under, Ryan entered, his peach scarf wrapped tighter than usual around his throat.
"Move over," Ryan said.
Spencer resisted Ryan's shoves. "No. 'Was here first." Long experience defending his territory decreed firmness was his only hope.
The tip of Ryan's nose curled up, and he sighed. The next thing Spencer knew, Ryan was fitting himself against Spencer's body, filling the negative spaces with rangy limbs.
Not that resolve ever worked when Ryan was determined.
Ryan tucked his nose into the spot where Spencer's neck met his collarbone, petting at Spencer's beard when he yelped.
"Tired," Ryan said.
"Yeah," Spencer nodded.
Heat seeped between them, and Spencer could feel Ryan's body relaxing, degree by degree. Spencer let himself sink deeper into the cushions, adjusted the blanket. Ryan's heartbeat thumped against Spencer's side, and his leg was thrown over Spencer's thigh.
It was raining out, and chilly. Spencer curled his arms around Ryan's back, buried his face in dark hair, and gave into his hunger for sleep.
Ryan would be there when Spencer awoke. The two of them, together, just like always.
* * *
In other fanfiction-related news, I've been reading lots and lots of bandslash lately, so if you're in the market for recs, check here. Also! There's now judgment_daily for all your Terminator fandom link needs. I've got my own story recommendations here.
Programming note: The first season of Burn Notice starts airing on Thursdays on USA at 11 pm, 17 April (90 minutes for the first episode, 60 minutes thereafter). I adore this show so, so much, and can't wait for the second season to begin this summer. It's well worth your time.
Jericho
For vaznetti, on that flag.
The Cheyenne government restored order in Jericho and beyond, but Heather never rid herself of the gut-clenching wrongness when she saw vertical red and white stripes. Watching Beck's officers rip flag patches off their uniforms, discovering Gray Anderson sitting beneath a rattlesnake on a yellow field, the Allied States flag crumpled on the ground -- Heather knew that Jericho's suffering would not stand. The injustices after the bombs wouldn't continue. Flags are only symbols, yet they still matter. Jericho would rally, and forestall any attempts at betrayal.
For Bonnie, for the victims of New Bern, they could do no less.
For aurora_84, Jake and Hawkins, post-series.
Hospital monitors beeped, but Hawkins looked better than when he nearly bled out in Cheyenne.
"They're debating," Jake said. "It's pretty clear that they know the right thing to do."
Hawkins nodded.
Jake quirked his lips. "Sometimes, a debate just messes things up."
He wouldn't regret that Hawkins was here, alive, no matter the risk.
Silence fell, and Jake let his mind still for a few precious moments before saying, "If we want to return to Jericho, they'll help."
Hawkins immediately replied, "We need to wait, to see what they decide."
"I thought so," Jake said. "The mission continues, right?"
Terminator
For zeplum, John and Derek, teaching.
"It's such a waste," John said with the sulkiness only a teenager can muster. "I'm not going to need to know how to analyze a poem after Judgment Day."
Derek glanced over to where John was flipping through textbooks. "You once told me finishing high school was one of the most important things you'd done."
John looked skeptical. "Really?"
"Really." Derek didn't volunteer that the end of the conversation was about making contacts and building networks among feuding cliques.
Sarah already thought John was too lackadaisical about his education. And she wouldn't make pancakes if she were angry at them.
For elishavah, cookies.
Double drabble.
Teenaged boys were a bottomless pit of hunger, as far as Sarah could tell.
"John!" she yelled. "Did you finish the Oreos again?"
He poked his head out of his bedroom, hair falling into his eyes. She should make him cut it, but that was a battle more hopeless than taking out a Terminator.
He was nonchalant. "Yeah."
"Did you put them on the list?"
"No."
"Then how will I know to get more?" Planning. Planning was key, and she'd tried to teach him but he never seemed to learn.
"We could bake," he offered. He always came up with another tactic. It was probably why he'd be able to defeat the machines, but it was damn frustrating to deal with every day.
"You want to bake," she said, not quite believing.
"Chocolate chip cookies?"
"You just want to eat the batter raw." She knew her son, even if she didn't always let him in on the secret.
His smile quirked the corners of his mouth, and she saw him shrug.
"Right. Bake." It wasn't more difficult than making nitroglycerin, and John started doing that years ago.
Sarah would tell Cameron to stay in the kitchen, though. Just in case.
Criminal Minds
For tenshinya, Reid and his mother. Post-Revelations.
She sat in the sunlight, reflective.
Spencer stood in the doorway for a long while, watching her stare out the window, before he said, "Hello."
She turned, and her smile was radiant. "Spencer! Come give me a kiss."
He obeyed, only limping slightly while the vials in his pocket clinked.
"You've hurt yourself." Her voice was worried. "You never said, in your letters."
"It was." He didn't meet her eyes. "I couldn't write."
Her hand reached out to touch his wrist, still pale yellow from the fading bruises.
"Tell me, Spencer."
After, she hugged him while he blinked away tears.
Criminal Minds/NCIS
For cedara, Abby meets Penelope Garcia via webcam, during a case.
"Divine goddess of the BAU." Garcia answered the phone without even thinking.
"Oh, wow, that's a good one. I'll have to remember."
The voice on the other end of the line was unfamiliar.
"Who is this?" Dread tickled.
"Abby Scuito, NCIS. The Breslin murders? I'm forensics, and need to get with you on the hard drive question."
The encryption was robust, but nothing Garcia couldn't handle. The information, though …
"Let's caucus," Garcia said, and set up a web-conference. The woman who grinned from the opposite side was definitely someone Garcia could work with.
"Oh, this'll be fun," Abby crowed.
Cupid
For serialkarma, Alex/Claire, apartment mishaps.
Claire had been chatting with Alex for almost an hour, both of them puttering around completing chores, when Alex's voice spiked with frustration: "Damn it!"
"What's wrong?" Claire asked, prepared to be amused. Alex's place in New York had been plagued by one appliance-related mishap after another, and she was more than a little bit smug that she owned a house instead of paying rent in some high-rise.
"The water's gone cold again."
Claire smiled at his petulance. "Well then, I'll just have to get you all hot and bothered, won't I? Then a cold shower will be a necessity."
Gossip Girl
For redwinevinegar, Blair Waldorf as a freshman, learning lessons.
The girl's hair was a glorious fall of red hanging midway down her back. Blair watched, open-mouthed, as she played two boys off against each other. Margot ruled Constance Billard with an iron fist veiled in Prada's latest, most-fashionable gloves.
"You," she snapped at Blair. "Freshman. Come here."
Blair approached warily. Margot was a senior.
"Take these books back to the library for me."
Blair clutched them to her chest, and waited.
"And if you get me Mitchell's schedule," Margot continued, "you can come to my sleepover this weekend."
Delight bubbled up and Blair smiled. She would ace this assignment.
The O.C.
For maudgonne, Sandy's thoughts on Ryan. (Set after the final scene of the last episode)
The kid was hunched in the corner, body language screaming defensiveness.
Sandy met Ryan's eyes, and the déjà vu was so strong that Sandy half-expected Seth to meander in wearing a ridiculous t-shirt. Instead, Sophie tumbled around his knees, practicing her gymnastics.
And Ryan wasn't on the brink of disaster.
"His home life's awful," Ryan muttered, face tilted down. "And I couldn't just leave him there."
"Of course you couldn't," Sandy said.
"But how -"
"We'll figure it out, Ryan." Taylor walked in and gave the kid a soda. "All of us, together."
Like a family , blood or chosen, should.
V
For djfanboy, Martin and Philip, before Martin ships out with the fleet. (With thanks to Wikipedia for show details, omg)
"You'll have to be careful," Philip warned. "Diana's treachery is well documented, and the humans are unpredictable."
Martin patted his brother's shoulder. It was so strange to see Martin disguised in pinkish flesh and blond hair. "Someone has to prevent another Kisszizk."
The images from that devastated planet were horrific. Earth seemed so peaceful, blue-green and brown, orbiting a warm yellow sun. Even their wars were as nothing to those waged when the Leader took power.
"Do your best," Philip said. "But return to me."
Martin tested his new lips with a smile. "I will."
Philip wished he believed it.
Bandom: Panic(!) at the Disco
For arsenicjade, Ryan/Spencer, comfort. (the people are real, the story is fiction, and if you are/know them I don't want to hear about it)
Triple drabble
It was raining out, or, not rain exactly: mist, dampening Spencer's hair as he walked back to the bus after a breakfast where he'd had to decline kippers, of all things. He huddled into his leather jacket, mentally grumbling about jet lag and their hectic tour schedule.
He actually yawned as he opened the bus door and went to slump into the couch. Brendon and Jon were off somewhere, probably scoping out the local curry shops for lunch - freaks - and the couch was so cozy, a blanket laid across the top as if it were waiting for Spencer's hands to tug it across his legs.
Fatigue crashed over him in waves, too strong to be resisted. Before he could go under, Ryan entered, his peach scarf wrapped tighter than usual around his throat.
"Move over," Ryan said.
Spencer resisted Ryan's shoves. "No. 'Was here first." Long experience defending his territory decreed firmness was his only hope.
The tip of Ryan's nose curled up, and he sighed. The next thing Spencer knew, Ryan was fitting himself against Spencer's body, filling the negative spaces with rangy limbs.
Not that resolve ever worked when Ryan was determined.
Ryan tucked his nose into the spot where Spencer's neck met his collarbone, petting at Spencer's beard when he yelped.
"Tired," Ryan said.
"Yeah," Spencer nodded.
Heat seeped between them, and Spencer could feel Ryan's body relaxing, degree by degree. Spencer let himself sink deeper into the cushions, adjusted the blanket. Ryan's heartbeat thumped against Spencer's side, and his leg was thrown over Spencer's thigh.
It was raining out, and chilly. Spencer curled his arms around Ryan's back, buried his face in dark hair, and gave into his hunger for sleep.
Ryan would be there when Spencer awoke. The two of them, together, just like always.
* * *
In other fanfiction-related news, I've been reading lots and lots of bandslash lately, so if you're in the market for recs, check here. Also! There's now judgment_daily for all your Terminator fandom link needs. I've got my own story recommendations here.
Programming note: The first season of Burn Notice starts airing on Thursdays on USA at 11 pm, 17 April (90 minutes for the first episode, 60 minutes thereafter). I adore this show so, so much, and can't wait for the second season to begin this summer. It's well worth your time.