drabble

May. 29th, 2012 07:29 am

Title: Clever Girl
Author: Appomattoxco
Summary: This could be Buffy and Willow discusing Anya/Xander, or Willow and Xander discusing Anya/Giles in an AU where A/X didn't happen.

"You know what Anya's problem is, Willow?"

"Have you got all day?"

"Seriously. She's a chick, and I don't mean that in a retro bimbo way, it's like she's newly hatched and still wet. Not cute and fluffy-- just wobbly and kind of naked."

"Now I really feel bad."

"Yeah, so do I. The thing is, when a chick is wet like that you can kind of see that birds evolved from those things in Jurassic Park."

“Clever girl.” Willow shuddered.

“I think we’re going to have to deal though, because it’s obvious, she has imprinted on our guy.”

“Yeah.”

“This story makes no sense at all. I thought you said this started as an educational program? Even 21st science was more advanced than this.”

“It did, Spock. Just turn off your brain for a while and watch.”

“That is physically impossible, Captain, much like an object being bigger on the inside.”

“I don’t know about phone boxes, whatever they are, but I‘ve been elbow deep in a Klingon’s intestines. He sure seemed bigger on the inside.”

“If you two don’t shut up while I watch Doctor Who, I’m going to see which of you are bigger on the inside.”

Once upon a time Spike allowed Drusilla to watch too much Nova. She understood it in a insane-quantum-physicist sort of way.

The man said that stars traveled in time, to glow their ghost light post mortem over the earth. Radiant shadows of themselves, they are the things humans don’t see because they are too big and far away. Like portraits of what mere mortals can’t see because they’re too small and close: macro-atoms that vibrate spin and explode.


They say that space is silent but Drusilla hears the stars sing the opera of gods, while sub-atomically angels whisper soft lullabies.

.

drabble

Apr. 16th, 2011 12:17 am

 

Title: The Mating Habits of the Unicorn

Rating: Teen for goriness and ruining a pretty legand.

Summary: BTVS/ Name of the Wind X-over drabble. When I read about the fire breathing dragon in Name of the wind. I naturally, or maybe sickly thought of this idea then I sent Spike sightseeing.


 

     Harmony would've been disappointed, Spike thought. Real unicorns weren't graceful white horses with flowing manes and shining gold horns.They resembled dun colored donkeys the size of draft horses. Each male had a horn the rusted and yellowed ivory of a broken tooth. Their coats had that moth-eaten look horses have in spring. 

    Spike was slightly disillusioned, himself, until he saw one hunt. The largest male charged into the thicket and emerged with Thumper impaled on it's horn. Then offered to it, bloody and still twitching, to a mare. Harm might've been disappointed, but Dru would've loved to see this.


 


AN not a great icon for this but the Faith one I have.
Faith on the absence of an old friend.

For a while she had this feeling that something wasn’t right. It was like waking in the middle of the night when the power goes out. It’s not that it’s gotten darker. It’s that you can’t hear the sound of the fridge, or the drip of the bathroom sink anymore.

The fourth day in prison Faith let a clumsy bitch crack a couple of her ribs. She meant to lie low and stay out of trouble by not fighting back. Not much anyway.

That night she was barely bruised and less edgy. Slayers heal wicked fast, but something's always healing.


Spike/ Buffy season 6 on the same theme.

“I wish you’d just tell me how you feel, Buffy.”

“You want to know how I feel, Spike? I hurt. Pain is my art. Bruises, gashes and broken things I tape up or paint over. I’m angry because it’s like building sandcastles or ice sculptures. All the work melts away the next day. Dying didn’t even leave a scar.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I'm sure there’re people with cancer or HIV who’d really pity the girl who always gets better.”

“So you think if there are people in a smellier dump than you, you can’t complain about the stench where you live?”
Title: Lying With the Truth {a Truth & Possibilities drabble}
Summary: Giles makes a call and tries to get more information than he gives away.

“I’m sorry. He was attacked by a vampire helping Buffy.”

“Yes, Fred, he did say something about that. He didn’t make very much sense to any of us, though. Vampires aren’t supposed to be capable of natural reproduction.”

“Who is his mother? So-St-so Connor is an orphan. Apart from Spike, but who would leave a child in his charge? Not that it will ever be an issue!”

“No.We hadn’t heard anything about Connor before Angel showed up. In fact, you’re the first to mention the name. Goodbye, Fred.”

“That was amazing, Giles,” Anya said. “Don’t ever do it to me.”
appomattoxco: (Appomattoxco PC)
Kick my muse into gear. Leave me song title. I'll write a drabble for it in a random fandom.

Speaking of random, why do 86% of all time travel romances take place in Scotland? Is it the Brigadoon effect?
A Spuffy, Dawn drabble inspired by my volunteer work at writercon. With apologies to BarbC because she'd do Buffy making salad better and probably has ;).


“Why do they always say to tear the leaves instead of chopping them?” Buffy asked.

“I think it’s so the lettuce doesn’t bruise,” Dawn said.


Buffy eyed the romaine dubiously. “That can’t be right. Ripping stuff up leaves a lot more bruises than cutting it with good sharp knife. What do you think, Spike?”

“That you’re incredibly sexy when you’re bloodthirsty? Well, it’s the truth! All right, if I were insane enough to eat it, my molars would bruise the vile stuff. You have my permission to chop away.”

“Do you guys realize you just made salad making sound gory?”
appomattoxco: (uhura squee)
 I've spent half the day drowning in Trek fic. The movie has spawned a ton of good and not so good stories that feature my old OTP. See? http://appomattoxco.livejournal.com/208906.html I 'shipped Spock/Uhura first! Well, maybe not I was born in '67, but I did it as soon as I could. LOL! Here's a cleaned up version of the drabble I did in comments just so I can tag it.

“Refined sugar is unhealthy to the human body. What is the logic of considering it a term of endearment?” Spock asked.

Uhura touched Spock on the cheek with her cool hand. He found it necessary to block his response to the touch. “You just answered your own question, sugar,” She said.

“Indeed?” Spock asked, giving in to impulse and returned her caress.

“Loving the wrong person, or even the right one at the wrong time, can be poison. But it’s so sweet on the tongue.”

“Then, right or wrong, there’s just one question, do you have a ‘sweet tooth,’ Uhura?”



What's next? You think my luck will hold and and the Buffy reboot will resurect Anya and be paired with Giles? It's more likely to be crap if it's ever made but I live in hope.

Possible future drabble for T&P Dawn & Giles using [livejournal.com profile] auntiero's prompt Ballerina.


“What are you thinking ?” Dawn asked.

“Only how beautiful you are and how very proud I am of you. Though, I had little to do with the woman you’ve become. I can’t even pretend I saw your first steps or your first ballet recital.”

“I wasn’t a great ballerina. I was five, my tights sagged, and I tripped. God, I hope I don’t trip!”

“I’ll have your arm this time.”

“Giles, I can tell the fake from the real memories now. You know what my earliest real one is? Sitting in that red car you had and trying to annoy you and Buffy enough so that you’d pay attention to me.”

“You were always good at that. But I took a long time to learn to be a father. ”

“That’s bull. You’ve been there for me my whole life. My whole real life. You, Anya, Buffy and Spike. So what if you weren’t there when I was little. I wasn’t there either.”

Giles said, “You know I love you.”

Anya wiped her eyes. “Time to go, you two.”

“I love you too, Dad. Come on, walk me to the alter. Alan’s going to think I got cold feet.”

Title: A Watcher Is Always Prepared.
Summary:  Future “Take Me” Giles and Anya  or any [G/A  where Anya was never with Xander and picked Giles first ]on a picnic.
AN: For [livejournal.com profile] ljs Sorry, it was all I could think of for corkscrew.  My brother’s had one for twenty years and never used it.

“This has been a perfect day, Rupert.”

Giles watched the sunlight as it played over Anya’s face and took another sip of wine. “Truly idealic. You know, the best part was what was missing.”

“No work?”

“That was nice but, no.”

“No Scoobies?”

“No. A plus, but not what I was thinking of.”

“No big bad trying to end the world?”

“Very fortunate.   Still wasn’t my thought.”

“I give. What was missing that made this day perfect?”

“You forgot  the corkscrew. It’s the first time I’ve had to use that tool on my knife since it was given to me.”

Drabble

Jan. 11th, 2009 07:56 pm

Bunnyverse Drabble
Christina Giles faces a test on her birthday.
for [livejournal.com profile] curiouswombat

Christina couldn’t see anything. Her only weapon was her dad’s old cricket bat. A sword would’ve worked better, but those were kept where she couldn’t reach them now. Her first swing made a swooshing sound as she failed to hit the target. The second swing hit something but it didn’t damage the demon's hide.

 

She had one last chance. Chris remembered the lessons from dad and Aunt Buffy about focus. She ignored the screams and chaos around her and swung; there was a solid thud, the piñata burst and candy rained everywhere!

 

“This was better than a pull-string, Uncle Spike!”

AN: kids now take turns pulling a ribbon to open piñatas at birthday parties.

Title: So Much For Escapism
Or why you shouldn't buy a book without at least reading the back.
Pairing:Giles/Anya

Giles walked into the bedroom and ducked a flying paperback.

“Sorry!” Anya said, “I wasn’t aiming for you. I’m just sick of this book.”

Giles picked up the paperback. The young woman on the cover looked disturbingly like a tatooed Faith standing under of a full moon.

Anya answered, “Oh, don’t get me wrong. It’s a good book, well written sex, a good plot.”

“Then why did it get tossed at my head?”

“The cover said urban fantasy. I thought it would be urban and fantasy but it isn’t either! It’s about a soccer mom that slays vampires at night!

Drabble

Nov. 2nd, 2008 01:30 pm
Once again I post a drabble on Sunday that has nothing to do with the [livejournal.com profile] open_on_sunday challenge. I don’t know why but I felt like revisiting my Tara and Xander ‘verse today.
Title: Good Morning
Pairing: Tara/Xander
Summary: Now that Xander’s older, it takes more than looking at linoleum to turn him on but not much more.

Morning light poured into the kitchen window. It gilded Tara’s hair as she checked which of the herbs needed water. She ran her hand over the sage; breathed in the scent that was released and smiled.

Xander watched silently as she gently passed her fingers over other plants. It reminded him of someone playing the harp. She licked her lip and tilted her head as if listening to some magic music that growing things made. The sight both awed and aroused him.

Then Tara turned and greeted him completely unembarrassed. Like all he’d caught her doing was watering houseplants.
People think that he used her for sex. He lets them, better for the big bad image. Really loved her once, though. Like the flu it lasted 48 hours. Wasn’t even that drunk.

She wasn’t Dru. She’d been so warm and golden. As if she’d soaked up so much California sun in her lifetime she still radiated heat. Said what she meant, didn’t spout a lot of insane nonsense. There was nonsense but it wasn’t insane.

Two days with Harm and he knew stupid annoyed him more than crazy. By then, she wouldn’t leave, so he’d used her for sex.

drabble

Sep. 29th, 2008 01:54 am
Decided to pick at that prompt table again.
Prompt 11 Earth
Dru/Riley AU
Rated G

He's shaped liked daddy but smells all wrong. The farmer smells too clean and alive; like the kind of earth that grows things.

She gazes deeper yet and sees something white and cold as death. The smells of things that men make erroding the earth seeping in. Burning wires, bleeding flesh, steel and entrails all together.

She’ll be the one to save him from this unnatural fate. She’ll put him in the ground, and he’ll rise up golden, smelling of earth and death. Death will suit his shape so much better, Miss Edith.

It will make him just like daddy.
appomattoxco: (Spock S2C)
Prompt 10: Game
ST:TOS K, S or K/S if you like.
AN: I think the Asaro I’ve been reading is bleeding through here.

Jim had challenged him to a game of chess the first week he took over command. It was his way of taking Spock’s measure.

Spock stopped tallying the wins and loses years ago. Just like for Jim, it became about learning his opponent. Knowing his captain’s mind.

There was a quantum beauty to the way Jim played. It could appear illogical and erratic. However, it was in reality a kind of light speed logic.

When Jim died, he put away his chessboards. Spock had a hunch there would never be another mind he would want to know that way again.
Prompt 8: Photograph
Doctor Who
Possibly Doctor/Donna
100 words
AN: this turned out a little odd.

The Doctor took photographs of Donna in secret, nothing embarrassing, humans just never smiled right when they posed.

He knew it was a silly thing to do. After all, he was a Time Lord with a perfect memory. He needed to have something tangible left after Donna was gone. Some might say a hologram would be better. He didn’t like holograms much anymore. Too much of a reminder of other loses that were still raw.

So he caught her amazing smile on simple film and briefly considered creating a sculpture but this regeneration had no talent in that direction.
Prompt 6: Sacrifice
Gwen Torchwood post Meat
AN: This isn’t my best.

Jack asked her to be the human one the conscience of the team. Ha, every day she wears away a little. Their supposed to be defending earth from aliens; often it’s the humans that get it wrong.

Rhys is too high on the newness of it all to fully comprehend. It’s a lark to him right now.

The choice was no choice at all. Sacrifice his memory and take part of who he is, or steal his illusion of safety and belief in humanity. She decided she never wanted him less than himself because he was part of her life.

Prompt 7: Run
Doctor Who
Donna

Donna spent her life feeling trapped. All she wanted to do was run away. It was her own fault she‘d brought the walls in closer and closer. Eliminating choices so she wouldn’t fail.

She thought if she married, she wouldn’t feel caged. Nevermind what her friends say about freedom. They forget what it’s like.

Until a scrawny alien showed her, her choices weren’t all gone, that there were some she’d never dreamed of. The Doctor didn’t break her out. She’d kicked the door down herself. All the Doctor had to do was offer a hand to hold when she ran.
Prompt 3: Hate
Star Trek:TOS
Spock, OC
AN: Some of my friends would hate this because Spock did NOT attend the academy. So call it an AU.

Spock’s new roommate blushed and picked up a dirty Academy uniform.” Sorry, I’m kind of a slob. You look like the type that would hate that.”

“I would hope that, if I felt such a distasteful emotion at all, I would reserve it for something of more import than your disorganization”

Spock observed that his roommate seemed disappointed at this news. Was he trying to drive Spock away with his housekeeping? He vowed to himself it wouldn’t work. Then spotted a plate of some aged and molding meat product. Perhaps he’d overestimated his ability to remain coolly logical after all.


Prompt 4: Work
OC SF fic
AN: I said the muse was all over.

A few years ago, Kevin had asked for a Dankill dulcimer for his birthday. He’d tried to learn to play but the instrument was alien and awkward in his hands. Gods know why after a day of trying to get his legs to work he’d ask for more frustration. He asked his sister to dig the dulcimer out of the closet for him.

Maybe it was dreams he’d had of music or maybe it was the enforced stillness. But now when he couldn’t make his legs work at all his hands flew over the strings and keys.

It frightened him.

Prompt 5: Year
Angel AtS

Years used to go by quickly. Now, he only notes the changing seasons in relation to the lengths of the nights. His senses are sharper, but the scent of leaves and bonfires are no different than spring violets. He meets the bright red blooming rose or the bloom of an open jugular with the same lack of feeling.

He needed rekindle his passion for unlife- without getting too happy.

Even a vampire got old if he didn’t remain young at heart. Next thing he knew, he’d be getting bat faced. Maybe he should take up a hobby like stamp collecting.

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