Triosk's Drabble Thread (75/101) - loads of fandoms, most recently Giri/Haji

[Triosk1]

One more! Fred and George love

#26 Suspicion

[Redacted]

Edited April 23, 2018 by Katrelle

[Triosk1]

Two drabbles I wrote a while ago and didn't post. I'm working on some Avengers ones next, yay The first one is from a BBC courtroom drama, Silk (http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b01hzsch), and features Billy Lamb, the chief clerk, who is the epitome of dapper, yet still earthy Londoner.

#70 Confession

Fandom/Original: Silk

Characters: Billy Lamb, Martha Costello

Fetish: Billy (male), cold

Word Count: 445

She’d known he was nursing a cold since she’d arrived first thing. Something about the way he was moving, not rushing about, more careful and deliberate. Perhaps also a pinkish tinge to his nose. And the amount of coffee he’d gone through; she’d caught Jake with at least four cups already.

Instead of concentrating on her case, Martha spared herself a glance through the glass of her office door at Billy, concern crinkling at the corners of her eyes.

She’d always care for him, their past ensured that, but it would take all of her skill in prosecution to get a confession of illness out of Billy Lamb, chief clerk. Nevertheless, she was determined to try.

“Billy, can I see you for a second?” Billy looked up, phone receiver nestled between neck and shoulder. He held up an index finger.

Fifty-seven seconds later, her door opened. “Yes, miss?” Billy asked, wearing the formality of address as comfortably as he did his suit and tie. And underneath it, just a hint of hoarseness, which he would no doubt attribute to a long day of wrangling clients from solicitors on the phones.

“How’re you doing, Billy?” Martha fixed him with her most interrogative stare. He was not leaving this room until he confessed.

“Me, miss? Rushed off my feet and worth my weight in gold, as usual,” Billy bluffed confidently, playing the lovable cockney smile to match. But one hand reached up quickly to rub his nose, and Martha heard a quiet sniff.

“What time did you get in this morning?” Billy stared for a second, nonplussed.

“What is this, the inquisition? Earlier than anyone else, miss, as—“ he paused, rubbing his nose again with a quick intake of breath. “As usual,” he finished. “Six-thirty.” The nose rub hadn’t done the trick, and Billy grimaced.

“Just a moment, miss...” he began, pulling out a white linen handkerchief from his pocket. It already looked a little used, although Martha hadn’t noticed him sneezing. He blew his nose briefly, turning away in embarrassment, but before he could cover the motion, sneezed powerfully.

“HRFFFSHOO! Huh’USHOO! H’RRESSHOO!” A brief pause came between each sneeze, during which Billy straightened slightly from his hunched posture, revealing his tortured expression, before burying his nose once more into the fabric and shuddering again.

“Bless you.”

“Thangk you, miss,” Billy muttered, thickly, dabbing at his nose. When he had finished cleaning himself up, he found Martha’s intense gaze unchanged, challenging. He lowered his eyes.

“Billy?”

“Yes, miss?”

“Go home.” Billy nodded, turning to the doorway. “And feel better,” Martha added, as he turned the handle. She was rewarded with a wry smile, and a sniff.

This one is from the West Wing, and features Sam Seaborn (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sam_Seaborn) played by Rob Lowe.

#21 Pollen

Fandom/Original: West Wing (series 2)

Characters: Sam Seaborn, Toby Ziegler

Fetish: Sam (male), allergies

Word Count: 347

Toby knocked on Sam’s door, a pen between his teeth and a sheaf of paper in his hands.

“Cub id,” called a voice made almost unrecognisable by stuffiness. Frowning, Toby pushed open the door with an elbow.

Sam’s desk was strewn with tissues and pages. Despite the mid-August heat, his windows were all closed, and his air conditioner was on minimum. Toby had to flick a few crumpled tissues from the only unoccupied chair with a corner of his script.

“Sorry,” Sam apologised thickly. Then he stopped, grabbed a fresh tissue from a half-empty box, and let fly a volley of suppressed, half-stifled sneezes.

“Heh’tch! Ah’Tchu! Heh...hih’tch’SHOO! TCH’ish! ETchu!” Barely able to breathe between each successive spasm, Sam clutched the tissue to his nose, eyes squeezed shut. Toby sat in silence, waiting. Finally, the sneezes subsided, and Sam blew his nose, before leaning back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose, and giving a low moan. “Ugh.”

“What,” began Toby, choosing his words with care, “in God’s name, are you doing in work?”

Sam blew his nose again before answering. “Id’s ok, I’b notd sick. Id’s just pollen.” To illustrate, he sneezed again, a tickly, “Etchu!” into his tissue.

“Pollen.”

Sam nodded miserably.

“I’ve never seen you like this before.”

“This is by first summer id DC. I gedt like this.”

“So take a pill. I can’t work with you right now.”

Sam sighed, reaching for another clean tissue, blowing his nose yet again.

“They mbake be drowsy.” His breath hitched dramatically as he geared up to sneeze again. “Eh...hah...hih’tchu! Heh’tch! TCHOO! Sorry,” he continued, almost breathlessly. “You wadded the ndew draft?”

Toby nodded, at a loss for words. Sam rummaged through his mess of desk, pulling out another sheaf of paper. He waved it across the desk at Toby as he stifled yet another sneeze into his tissue “Hah’tch!”

Toby took it, and stood up. “You’re crazy, you know that? Go home.” Sam gave a half-shrug. Toby rolled his eyes. “Well, thanks for this.” He paused, his hand on the doorhandle. “And bless you.”

[Triosk1]

#32 - Fall

Fandom/Original: The Avengers (2012 film)

Characters: Steve Rogers (Captain America), Tony Stark (Iron Man)

Fetish: Steve (male), allergies

Word Count: 409

“Captain America has returned to Stark Tower”, JARVIS informed Tony Stark as he sat idly flicking through daytime tv on his latest touchscreen gadget. Bringing up the building’s camera and intercom menu, he saw the Cap heading for the shower, chest heaving from exertion.

“How was the run, old man?” Stark asked over the speakers, pulling up the sound bar on his screen so he could hear the response. Rogers’ back was towards the camera, but Stark noticed his shoulders shudder, and an indistinct noise crackled from the computer. It almost sounded like a sneeze.

Fifteen minutes later, Rogers joined Tony in the main living area, towel around his shoulders, hair still wet from the shower. And, thought Tony, nose looking decidedly pink around the nostrils.

“How was Central Park?” Since receiving the Avengers’ next assignment the night before, Tony had invited the Captain to Stark tower, in case he “needed some help with all the long words”. In truth, Tony liked the company – he had been on his own for a couple of weeks, and relished the chance to show off his favourite new inventions.

“Fine,” responded Rogers, one hand rubbing absent-mindedly at his nose. “Nice d-h’Tchuh!” he was interrupted by a sudden sneeze. He took a shaky breath, then repeated the action, cupping his nose with a hand. “Heeeh...hih’tchu! etchu!” Tony watched the tall, muscle-bound superhero sniffed, and tried to dispel his obviously continuing need to sneeze. It was not unamusing.

“Gesundheit.”

“Thanks,” Cap responded, a little breathlessly, a hint of surprise in his voice. “Ever since the park...heh!...” He paused to rub furiously at his nose again. “...just can’t seem to stop...sneezing...hah’tchu! ISShoo!” He dropped into a comfy chair and threw his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Well, and I don’t mean to state the obvious here, but have you considered the possibility that you are allergic?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve been all over the planet, I’ve never been allergic to anything.”

“But that was 60 years ago, Cap. Plants have changed since then. Whole new species to make those mast cells go crazy over nothin’.”

Rogers wanted to respond, but was too busy sneezing again. “Hah’tchoo! Tchish! Etchu!” Finally managing to stop for a second, he groaned. “That’s just great. No more fall runs for me, then.”

“Relax, big guy,” Tony tossed something across the room to Rogers, who caught it automatically. It was a blister pack of pills. He looked up questioningly. “Hayfever is treatable now. Welcome to the future.”

#1 - Kink

Fandom/Original: The Avengers (2012 film)

Characters: Natasha Romanoff (Black Widow), Clint Barton (Hawkeye)

Pairings: Natasha/Clint

Fetish: Clint (male), induced

Word Count: 499

“Are you sure?” Natasha asked, her low voice a purr in Clint’s ear. She’d been seriously surprised at the suggestion, and was wary of its results. Their relationship so far had been intense, but this was the first time he’d suggested she mix work with pleasure, so to speak.

“Sure. Safe word?”

“Spider,” she responded at once. Clint raised an eyebrow.

“You’ve played this game before.” Natasha didn’t answer; instead coming to straddle his nearly naked body, her own still encased in her skintight black suit; less revealing, but leaving his imagination all the more scope. Clint held still, his hands limp in the black handcuffs that pinned him to the bed. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he murmured, sounding more instructive than nervous.

Natasha leant over him, their faces fractions of an inch apart, her lips just barely brushing his.

“Oh, I do.” She caught his lower lip between her teeth, not painfully, just enough to get his attention. As if it could be anywhere else. Then she sat up again. In her right, dominant hand she held a long white feather, like those used centuries ago for quill pens. She flicked it forward, just brushing the edges of Clint’s nose.

“Time to play,” she murmured, and let the feather slip just inside his nose.

With every twitch, with even the tiniest movement from Natasha’s fingers, Clint felt the burning, itching sensation in his nose build. He was determined to hold back for as long as possible, but as his eyebrows crept inexorably together, and his lashes began to flutter, he feared that might not be very long at all. Unconsciously, his mouth hung open, and Clint wriggled his nose, nostrils flaring. He must be strong.

A more definite flick from Natasha, and Clint’s breath hitched shakily.

“Heh-eh!...heh!...kuh!” He almost gave in, giving a tiny, tickly cough, an aborted sneeze. Sensing how close he was, Natasha leant forward, her steady gaze meeting Clint’s, half-closed under his heavy brows. She flicked the feather once more, then withdrew it suddenly.

For several long seconds, Clint teetered on the edge, his breath coming in snatched gasps as his nose twitched. Then he sneezed:

“Hu’ATSCHH! ATTSHHOO! Heh...hih-hih!...ETTSCHHU!” Loud, explosive, desperate sneezes tore at his throat and left his eyes watering. Clint longed to touch his nose, but in vain. And he wasn’t done yet. Natasha raised the feather once more, touching it just to the outside of his nostrils, tracing their curves. It was more than enough.

“ATSSHOO! ISSHOO!! Heh’TSCHHU! Heh...heh...hih!...” Clint was still waiting for a final release, but the sneeze was stuck. He squinted up at Natasha. “Please....”

He panted. She twitched the feather. Clint’s eyes cinched shut immediately, his mouth opening wider as he inhaled.

“Huh’ASSSHOOO!!” Sniffing wetly, he laid his head back on the pillow, eyes still shut. He felt Natasha lie down beside him, her breath hot in his ear.

“Bless,” she whispered, almost in condescension. There was a click, and the handcuffs were released.

Edited July 2, 2012 by Katrelle

[Dye]

can i just take a moment to sdgjljghkdfahjlkgsfjdhqhgaldfhjglkahljsdhfglkfhsdjg

ALLERGIC CAP IS BEAUTIFUL!?!? <3333

[Triosk1]

Hee, thanks Daisoku I'm glad you liked it.

So, I wrote a Loki drabble for #14 - Frail, but then it got way too long, and turned into the start of a fic. So I'll post a link: http://www.sneezefetishforum.org/forums/index.php?showtopic=46910 and please read that if you like the idea of Thor taking care of Loki when he's sick. I'll try and write some more drabble soon.

Edited July 5, 2012 by Katrelle

[Dye]

Awww, sounds cuuuute! ^^ I most certainly will, I love Loki!

[Parksborn]

ASDFGHJKLASDFASDFFFFFFF

Steve! My sweet babu sneezing! ILOVEYOULETMELOVEYOU.

Will there be more of him? I will be able to die happy and with a complete life if there is.

CHRIST. SO HOT.

[Triosk1]

New drabbles! These three are following one story, which is a post-Pride & Prejudice Darcy and Elizabeth. Darcy has a cold, and is being ungracious about it. I am planning more in this universe (and other characters!) but I'm a bit rusty, so bear with me, please. Comments always encouraged!

#38 – Violent

Fandom/Original: Pride and Prejudice (after the end of the book)

Characters: Fitzwilliam Darcy, Elizabeth Darcy (née Bennet)

Pairings: Darcy/Elizabeth

Fetish: Darcy (male), cold

Word Count: 286

Elizabeth Darcy, née Bennet, looked up from her letter to Charlotte Collins, née Lucas, as Fitzwilliam Darcy sneezed for the second time that morning, violently. His whole frame shook, reminiscent of a sapling in a high wind, as his fingers finally gained purchase on a crisp white handkerchief, which he quickly held to his nose.

“God bless you. My dear, are you quite well?”

“Perfectly, I assure you.” And yet, his words were spoken with an irritation untypical of their present relationship. A little aggrieved, Elizabeth continued with her letter, determined not to make further comment.

She remained entirely unmoved by the third sneeze, coming so soon after her new resolution of indifference. Slightly before the fourth, she found herself momentarily considering the middle distance just behind her husband’s head, and so watched the entire uncommon event unfold. Mr Darcy had paused in pulling on his right boot, one hand still lowered to his ankle, the other in possession of his handkerchief, which he held an inch or so before his face. His expression, once so taciturn in her presence, was chiefly of languid confusion: his mouth hung very slightly agape, and his nostrils flared most comically. After one or two shaky inhalations, relief was granted to both parties with a duo of violent sneezes, in quick succession.

“Heeah...H’HRRUSSHOO!...hah’RESSSHOOO!!”Elizabeth noted as Darcy straightened from his curled position that he rubbed at his temples as though his head pained him.

“God bless you. Are you quite sure you are not unwell?”

“I have already answered that question, I believe. I am surprised that I should find myself having to answer a second time.” Having succeeded at last in dressing, Darcy left the room, and his affronted wife.

#25 – Mistake

Fandom/Original: Pride and Prejudice (after the end of the book)

Characters: Fitzwilliam Darcy, Elizabeth Darcy (née Bennet), Georgiana Darcy

Pairings: Darcy/Elizabeth

Fetish: Darcy (male), cold

Word Count: 294

After Mr Darcy had been gone from the house for about an hour, a heavy downpour burst over Pemberley, drenching the grounds and darkening the sky before its time. Georgiana and Elizabeth watched from the pianoforte, where they had been playing duets; both with enthusiasm, though only Georgiana with much skill. Miss Darcy frowned at the weather, but Elizabeth reassured her.

“I am sure Fitzwilliam will be back directly; he cannot wish to stay out in the rain regardless of his temper.” At a questioning look she elaborated lightly: “Your brother was most unfairly brusque with me this morning, when I deigned to enquire twice after his health. But one must simply ignore fits of temper, lest they become habit.” Once the joke had been fully shared and exhausted, they resumed their pastime.

But Mr Darcy did not return to the house until an hour before dinner, soaked to the skin and in no better mood. He did not join their company until the meal, but changed at leisure alone. Sitting opposite him at the table, Elizabeth could not but notice a distant cold expression which gave her pain, as well as an unusual pallor to his face.

“Did you walk far, Fitzwilliam, and encounter anyone?”

“Only around the grounds. I saw no one.” He paused to sneeze, wearily, his handkerchief easily reachable. “Huh’RESSCH!”

“God bless you, brother.” They had finished eating, and Georgiana rose timidly to embrace her brother’s shoulders, an affection which he returned stiffly. “Perhaps such a long walk in the rain may have been a mistake?”

“Perhaps—H’ASSCHOO!!” A second sneeze could not be contained, and Georgiana rubbed his tensed shoulders tenderly. Elizabeth noted that she had rarely seen her husband appear so defeated as he rose to retire early.

#22 – Embarrassment

Fandom/Original: Pride and Prejudice (after the end of the book)

Characters: Fitzwilliam Darcy, Elizabeth Darcy (née Bennet)

Pairings: Darcy/Elizabeth

Fetish: Darcy (male), cold

Word Count: 323

When she woke the following morning, Elizabeth found her husband in worse health but better temper. Enjoying the still novel freedom of their embrace, she enquired whether he would like her to do anything for him. He responded that he had previously always recovered without imposing upon anyone for help.

“Surely a bad temper could be deemed an imposition, and one that you certainly imposed upon me yesterday.”

“I am sorry; I am unused to having to be in company when I am ill. I find it undignified.”

“If you deem one or two close relations company, I never had a moment out of it until I turned fourteen.”

Elizabeth looked to Darcy for a response, but found him fighting back a sneeze. After several seconds, he surrendered.

“Huh’HRIESSCHH!

”God bless you.”

“Thank you. I was about to remind you of the first occasion of our meeting – the Assembly Rooms at Meryton.”

“How could I forget? Neither of our behaviours could be deemed good-tempered that evening.”

“Mine was entirely rude and uncharitable, but I hope I may claim some part of it from illness. I had the most wretched head-cold, and could hardly form rational thought. In addition, I felt far too embarrassed by my frequent sneezing to involve myself in new introductions.”

“That certainly explains your reluctance to dance. But then why did you attend?”

“I knew that Charles would be entirely charmed by every pretty girl in the room, regardless of their natures, which he could not but perceive to be the best possible. Also, I worried that in my absence, Caroline would also decline the invitation, and then perhaps the whole party would have missed the event.”

“How very noble your motives now seem. But I must make sure to keep you from any easily offended friends and relatives until you are completely recovered.”

“I would be extremely grateful if the company were restricted to you and Georgiana until then.”

Edited December 27, 2012 by Katrelle

[tma]

OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is just.... :bounce: :wub:

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Darcy.... and cold.... and embarrassment.... and cuteness.... and sneeze-spellings that are *perfect* and just..... *Dies*

and now I will absolutely, Forever have in my mind that having a cold was part of why he was a doofus at Meryton (it really *does* make sense... plus, just.... .... mmmmm...).

Just I'm SO happy! ( ok... I'm fangirling way too much but still). The dialogue was spot- on and I would be in *heaven* to see more of this fandom!!

*bats eyelashes and offers lots of cheesecake*

[TheCakeIsAlive]

Ooh, such a treat. A sneezy Sherlock and a cold-ridden Darcy, it must be Christmas.

Very wonderful and in character. Loved them. ^^

[tma]

Wait... how did I miss Sherlock before???

:wub: SOO yummy! And just perfect dialogue with the two of them *grins*

Oh... and now I shall have to go build a fangirl shrine. <3 <3

[Triosk1]

Heee!! :D Thanks for the lovely feedback! I'm glad there is a market out there for Darcy fic - I was really surprised not to be able to find loads already, considering what a ridiculous romcom hero he is. These are a few more random drabbles. One is of Colonel Fitzwilliam also from the P&P universe, which I had the idea for ages ago. One is Christian from 50 Shades of Grey (which I'm not really endorsing, because I think the writing is ghastly, but at least that makes it easy to copy), and another Steve Rogers/Captain America quick one. I have more ideas for Darcy and also for Mark Darcy from Bridget Jones's Diary, which I just finished watching. Colin Firth + fetishy stuff = YUM

#44 - Tissue

Fandom/Original: The Avengers (after film)

Characters: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark

Fetish: Rogers (male), cold

Word Count: 117

He’d only been there a day, and Steve could tell he was coming down with something. After about the tenth sneeze even Tony, with his degree in self-obsession, could tell that something was up.

“Hey, popsicle, you ok?”

Steve sniffed, a little wetly. They were definitely getting messier, which was inconvenient.

“Think I must have caught something. Sorry, but do you have a handkerchief I could borrow?”

Stark did a mental replay of the sentence. “A handker—Oh, Cap, the world has moved on.” He lobbed a box of Kleenex at the afflicted Avenger.

“The future is one-use, did nobody tell you? Those...are tissues.”

Steve grabbed one just in time to catch yet another sneeze.

“H’REESSH! Thanks.”

#75 - Heartless

Fandom/Original: Pride and Prejudice (when Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr Darcy are visiting Catherine de Bourgh, and Elizabeth is visiting Charlotte and Mr Collins)

Characters: Colonel Fitzwilliam, Elizabeth Bennet

Fetish: Colonel Fitzwilliam (male), allergies

Word Count: 340

The pleasant weather continued to hold into their second week, and Elizabeth found herself often in the company of Colonel Fitzwilliam, who seemed glad of their shared love of fresh air and willing to take full advantage of it in his preoccupations. On a particularly sunny and dry day, they took a picnic to the outskirts of Rosings Park for lunch. Lizzie was quite enchanted by the many wildflowers and grasses in the gently rolling meadows, and soon chose a shaded, grassy spot from which to eat and survey them better. Colonel Fitzwilliam made no other suggestion, and so they sat there in light-hearted conversation for some minutes. She was interrupted, however, in inquiring after his regiment’s plans, as he held up a hand, turned aside from her, and hastily suppressed a sneeze.

“Heh’chmpt!” After retrieving a white handkerchief and applying it to his nose briefly, he turned back with a smile. “So sorry, do go on.”

The conversation continued, but there were several more such interruptions, each with a polite apology from Colonel Fitzwilliam and a charming smile. After the fifth, Elizabeth felt compelled to ask after his health.

“I am quite alright, I assure you. Do continue.” However, a sixth, and then a seventh, sneeze had to be contained before he could listen to her next question.

“Hah’TCCHu! Heh...hah’tshoo!”

“God bless you. Perhaps you would rather we turned back now that we have finished our meal?”

Once more pocketing his handkerchief, the Colonel smiled a little bashfully. “Yes, perhaps that would be best. I assure you I am not unwell, it is simply that—well, the grass in our vicinity has always had the effect on me of producing irresistible sneezing. I have never understood quite why.”

“Then why did you allow me to choose such an unpleasant spot for our picnic? You could not have thought me so heartless as to prefer the view to your happiness.”

“Well, there is no harm done. Let us go back now—I will be quite recovered in a few moments.”

#27 – Disagreement

Fandom/Original: 50 Shades of Grey

Characters: Christian Grey, Ana Steele

Pairings: Christian/Ana

Fetish: Christian (male), cold

Word Count: 338

I was sure that Christian wasn’t feeling good, that he hadn’t been for days. Nervously, not wanting to disturb, but also not wanting him to suffer alone, I pushed open the door to his office. Gently, I rubbed his shoulders from behind, making him jump.

“Jesus, Ana.” He swivelled his chair and held my by the waist. His face was paler than usual, a pinkish tinge to his nose. I noticed several crumpled tissues scattered on the desk. I smoothed a lock of his hair from his face; even clearly sick, my Fifty was stunningly gorgeous.

“You’re working too hard,” I tried not to sound like a petulant child. “You should rest for a bit, take a day off.”

He frowned. “I don’t need a day off, Ana. I’m not sick.” I’d been having this ‘disagreement’ with him for three days now, and he must know that he’d lost it. I had an idea, and leaned in to kiss him. His hands gripped my upper arms suddenly, holding me away.

“So why the ice treatment?” I pouted. It was this which had made me notice in the first place; he hadn’t slept in our bed like usual. “Have I done something wrong?”

He sighed, letting me go and rubbing his eyes. “Fine, you win, I have a cold. And I do not want you catching it.” He frowned suddenly, nostrils flaring, and grabbed a tissue, before sneezing powerfully, wetly, into it.

“Heh’hrrrUSSHOO!” God, even his sneezes were sexy: so much power, so much desperation. I felt a familiar tingle down there. Christian blew his nose, sighing, and I was distracted from my blossoming desire by sympathy; my sweet Fifty, looking so miserable. I reached out to touch him.

“Don’t, Ana, I’m serious.” He held me firmly away. “I know you only want to help, but I won’t have you getting sick for me. I couldn’t stand it.” I sighed, and nodded. This was yet another control thing.

“Ok. I’ll leave you to it. But don’t work too hard.”

[Triosk1]

One more! Mark Darcy this time, from Bridget Jones's Diary.

#13 – Care

Fandom/Original: Bridget Jones’s Diary (film)

Characters: Mark Darcy, Bridget Jones

Pairings: Mark Darcy/Bridget Jones

Fetish: Mark (male), cold

Word Count: 432

Mark had known he was ill from the moment he woke up: nose blocked and running, sore throat, just what he needed on the final day of a big case he was presenting. He rushed through breakfast, settling for some orange juice and cornflakes, not wanting to wake Bridget so early.

Due to traffic he arrived at the court flustered and running a few minutes late, with only time for a perfunctory greeting to Sally, his new junior. She’d been with him for nearly a week: fresh-faced, eager, and insultingly young. Obviously she had a long way to go, but Mark already felt rather avuncular towards her, and hoped they’d soon become a good team. She had proved that she could give as good as she got (mandatory for a potential leading barrister), and he definitely knew which side he’d rather have her on today.

As defence barrister, he had already cross-examined several of the prosecution’s witnesses, and seen the presented evidence. Most of his own case had been made, and he dealt with the remaining witnesses competently, although his head was throbbing and he was fast running out of tissues. Finally, it came to closing statements. The prosecution’s passed in something of a blur, unhelpfully, and Mark rose at last to make his own.

“My lord, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I put it to you...” he began, then paused. He was going to sneeze. There was absolutely nothing he could do about it. Absolutely typical. Patting his pocket for a tissue, he resigned himself as not one, but two hastily muffled sneezes interrupted him.

“Hah’MPSSH! H’RRESSHOO!” Mark blushed as a chorus of ‘bless you’s followed, and struggled to regain his flow. He finished without further incident, and took his seat. Soon after, the jury was dismissed, and he was free to try and recover some semblance of health in the terrible court canteen.

Sally was looking in her bag for something as he got them both a coffee. When he returned, he found a neat, unopened packet of tissues waiting for him.

“Thought you could do with them.”

Mark smiled gratefully, “That’s very thoughtful, thank you.”

“You should take better care of yourself. You look ready to drop.” As always, Sally was direct, but Mark thought that she meant it genuinely, not just for the sake of the case.

“Yes, well, once this result is in, I look forward to a long, quiet evening at home.” With Bridget, he added silently. He wondered whether she was the tea and sympathy type. It wasn’t as though you could burn tea.

[TheCakeIsAlive]

D'aww. I love the Darcy one. It's so adorable. Especially the last line. Trust Bridget to find a way to burn tea.

[tma]

Awwwww!!!!!!!!!!!

I feel SO spoilt. *grins like a total goof*

All of them were Great- but I would say that the P&P and BJD ones were my favourites.

Even though Darcy is my in P&P - I think that Col. Fitzwilliam is cute and sweet. You wrote that Brilliantly- totally in character (in my opinion). It made me go... Awwww!!

And oh my gosh.... Mark Darcy!! Gah.... Colin Firth in P&P and BJD- just SOOO adorably proper and such and just... :wub: . Oh my gosh- in court- he'd be mortified- but would try to act just "no big deal" - just as you put it. And I agree w/ Cake- the last line was just picture perfect. Poor Bridge- she'd try so awfully hard- but... anything dealing w/ the kitchen in particular... she'd best order out. lol!!

**eagerly awaiting any updates with giant grin**

[Triosk1]

EEEE Thanks guys. Your comments genuinely make me grin like a loon. Mr Darcy in both incarnations is definitely my favourite inspiration at the moment, so there will definitely be more of him to come. Firstly, one more from Bridget Jones. Colin Firth makes me go all weak-kneed in this film, and I love awkward dialogue, so here you go!

#47 – Wary

Fandom/Original: Bridget Jones’s Diary (film, after the end)

Characters: Mark Darcy, Bridget Jones, Sally (original)

Pairings: Mark/Bridget

Fetish: Mark (male), cold

Word Count: 308

They won the case, despite his lacklustre performance on the final day. Mark took Sally for a drink to celebrate their first win together, after fielding an unspeakably awkward hug she gave him just outside the courtroom. She was pleasant enough company, but he couldn’t focus on anything other than wanting to get back to his flat and relax. Luckily, the jury had decided quickly, and he was home by four. A hot bath, a mug of lemsip, next week’s deposition and a box of tissues – Mark settled in to nurse his cold in peace and solitude for a few hours.

At six he phoned Bridget. Just to see what she was doing, he told himself, not to moan.

“Hello?”

“It’s me, um, Mark.” He really hated phones.

“Hi, ‘um, Mark.’” She was laughing at him.

“How was your day?”

“Fine. How about yours? Did you win?”

“Um, yes, we did actually. Full acquittal.”

“That’s brilliant! How should we celebrate?”

“Um,” he began, but broke off to sneeze, painfully. “H’RRISSHOO! Sorry, excuse me.”

“Bless you. Are you ok? You sound a bit funny.”

Mark’s manners flashed amber warning lights. Do not complain. Do not invite her over where she might catch it. That would be completely unchivalrous. He tried to be wary.

“Just got a bit of a cold. It’s fine, really.”

“Oh no! Poor you.” She sounded genuinely sympathetic. Mark internally crossed his fingers. “Do you want me to come round?”

Yes, yes, I really would, I feel horrible, please come round. “Um, that would be lovely.”

There was an awkward pause. His heart sank again. She didn’t want to, she was just offering out of politeness. Then: “Er, what should we do about dinner?”

He laughed, he couldn’t help it. She was worried about cooking. “Don’t worry, I’ve got some frozen pizzas somewhere. Low maintenance meal.”

“I’ll be right over.”

[tma]

SQUEEEE!!! :wub:

So adorable!

That is *so* him- the thoughts and such- such a total gent and complete cutie *melts*

Plus him being akward FTW!!

I'm bouncing around like a goof. Can't wait to see what you put up next.

[Bruyere]

Both Darcys sick?! <3 <3 And Fitzwilliam with hayfever? *happy sighs*

And I loved Bridget worrying about dinner.

[queenie]

Nnnnnnnnngh this is perfect. Your Mark Darcy is so sweetly awkward.

[LovelyLinda]

Aaaaaaahhhhhh why did it take me so long to find this?!?!?

You combine all of my favourite fandoms, even Pride & Prejudice, I'm absolutely

in love with you and your amazing writing! I really love your style <3

Are you maybe planning on writing a whole coldridden Darcy fic?

I would die of happiness

Thank you SO FREAKING MUCH for your excellent drabbles!!

[Triosk1]

More drabbles! Another Mark Darcy/Bridget Jones, continuing from the last two, and two Star Trek (2009 film) ones. There may well be more Star Trek to come (I just watched Into Darkness for the second time). These feature Kirk and Chekov and a whole lot of hurt/comfort.

#36 – Miserable

Fandom/Original: Bridget Jones’s Diary (film)

Characters: Mark Darcy, Bridget Jones

Pairings: Mark Darcy/Bridget Jones

Fetish: Mark (male), cold

Word Count: 187

Mark preheated the oven, stuck the pizzas in, then made a lacklustre attempt at tidying the debris of his afternoon – tissues in the bin, mug in the sink, papers in a rough pile on the coffee table. The buzzer to his flat went and he ambled over.

“It’s me,” Bridget smiled into the camera.

“Cumb id, you.” Cursing his ludicrously congested voice, Mark grabbed another tissue and blew his nose. This only served to make him need to sneeze more, and he was just fighting back the urge when Bridget knocked on the door.

Tissue in hand, eyelashes fluttering, breath coming in shuddering gasps, Mark crossed to the door. He turned the handle, and pulled it open, just catching a glimpse of Bridget, before:

“H’ughzshoo! Huh...H’rreshhoo! Ugh...” He opened bleary eyes to find Bridget watching him, lips pursed appraisingly.

“You poor thing, you sound completely miserable.” As she spoke, she took a few steps forward, and before Mark could begin a sentence containing ‘contagious’ ‘catch it’ or ‘better not’, she had kissed him on the cheek and hugged him tightly. I could get used to this.

#54 – Needles

Fandom/Original: Star Trek (2009 film)

Characters: Kirk, McCoy

Fetish: Kirk (cold/flu)

Word Count: 121

“For God’s sake, Jim, it’s just a shot.” Bones was exasperated, holding the hypospray with one hand, and trying to restrain his Captain with the other.

“I’b fide, Bodes,” Jim Kirk growled, having none of it, but his nose was running, and Bones could see sweat on his forehead. “I don’t need anything, least of all that thing in my—“ He stopped dead, then let out an explosive sneeze. “H’AAshaa!”

Seizing the opportunity in the seconds that Jim was disoriented and his head turned aside, Bones pushed the shot into his neck, hearing the click-hiss of the medicine heading to his bloodstream.

“Oww! Goddamnit!”

“Honestly Jim, I’ve never known a captain who made such a fuss about needles.”

#11 – Hot/Cold

Fandom/Original: Star Trek (2009 film)

Characters: Chekov, Sulu

Fetish: Chekov (male), flu

Word Count: 349

Hikaru Sulu and Pavel Chekov had been on the Enterprise for nearly six months of their five year mission, and Sulu thought he had gotten to know his partner on the bridge's little quirks pretty well. The way he fidgeted in his chair like a kid at school, swivelling back and forth on it when he was thinking; his almost superhuman speed at using typing screens; even understanding his accent was child's play nowadays.

But today, Chekov was acting differently. For the first couple of hours of their 8-hour shift, he sat hunched over his screen, body pulled inwards, arms folded. Every so often, he would knead at his forehead or temples, and hardly cracked a single joke. Once, he even sneezed, an embarrassed “H'MPPF'shoo!” into the crook of his elbow, but didn't even seem to hear Sulu's “Gesundheit” in response.

Then, when the reached the half-way mark, and Kirk asked for the course to Ceti Gamma 7 to be charted, Sulu noticed a change. Now, Chekov was flushed, beads of perspiration standing out on his forehead and upper lip. His fingers fumbled at the keys, and he muttered under his breath in frustration. Sulu frowned to himself, but had no time for further consideration – it was his job to pilot this trip and punch them into warp.

Finally, the eight hours were over, and they were relieved. Chekov and Sulu rose together, but as he crossed to the turbolift, Chekov stumbled, off-balance, and fell against his shipmate's shoulder, sagging. Pulling an arm around him, Sulu scrambled them into the elevator.

“Sick bay,” he commanded. He could feel the young Russian's whole body shivering against him as he tried to stand up again, but failed.

“No, no, really, I em just...just tired...” he mumbled, unconvincingly. His brown curls were plastered to his forehead. Sulu ignored him, instead hefting his shoulder underneath the Ensign's arm to support him.

“You know, it's very noble and all, getting through a shift with the flu, but the Captain will have your ass if he finds out. Better hypospray you up before that happens.”

Edited July 15, 2013 by Katrelle

[Dye]

ksdlgkadsjglkjdgakjdadkhjaskjdglksjgh Chekov sweet baby @W@

He's so cute and perfect and aahhhh ;w;

[VividBubbles!]

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

CHEKOV!!!!!

*melts*

Please more Chekov drabbles. Please. *begs with puppy eyes*

bye.

Edited July 14, 2013 by VividBubbles!

[tma]

OMG!!! A *Perfect* Mark Darcy.

LOVES on you!!!!!!! :wub:

That was just *beyond* sweetness. And SO him! *grins*

[Spoo]

Eeeek! I love the Stark Trek ones. Jim's such a baby, and Chekoooov! Poor babyyyyy.