Updated Multi Fandom Drabbles - Galavant (98/101)

[Bruyere]

1 - Kink :: 2 - Science Fiction :: 3 - Frightened :: 4 - Fake :: 5 – Pencil :: 6 – Squint :: 7 – Misplaced :: 8 – Joy :: 9 - Touched :: 10 – Cough :: 11 – Hot/Cold :: 12 – Sin :: 13 – Care :: 14 – Frail :: 15 – The End :: 16 – Three :: 17 – Never :: 18 – Midnight :: 19 – Promise :: 20 – Fight :: 21 – Pollen :: 22 – Embarrassment :: 23 – Alcohol :: 24 – Mask :: 25 – Mistake :: 26 – Suspicion :: 27 – Disagreement :: 28 – Assignment :: 29 – Purple :: 30 – June :: 31 – Calculating :: 32 – Fall :: 33 – Cry :: 34 – Relief :: 35 – Breath :: 36 – Miserable :: 37 – Chocolate :: 38 – Violent :: 39 – Muffle :: 40 – Swift :: 41 – Run :: 42 – Poison :: 43 – Contagion :: 44 – Tissue :: 45 – Sore :: 46 – Enraptured :: 47 – Wary :: 48 – Pathetic :: 49 – Sweat :: 50 – Gentle :: 51 – Milk :: 52 – Ravenous :: 53 – Blanket :: 54 – Needles :: 55a – Sports :: 55b – Ruin :: 56 – Lovely :: 57 – Hospital ::58 – Annoying :: 59 – Mother :: 60 – Bike :: 61 – Idiot :: 62 – Puppy :: 63 – Control :: 64 – Unfair :: 65 – Similarities :: 66 – Raincoat :: 67 – Worship :: 68 – Attitude :: 69 – Fuck :: 70 – Confession :: 71 – Floor :: 72 – Remedy :: 73 – Don’t :: 74 – Ego :: 75 – Heartless :: 76 – Lullaby :: 77 – Secret :: 78 – Shut Up :: 79 – Music :: 80 – Grudge :: 81 – Solitude :: 82 – Magic :: 83 – Dirty :: 84 – City :: 85 – Teacher :: 86 – Sky :: 87 – Hypocrite :: 88 – Tattoo :: 89 – Money :: 90 – Childhood :: 91 – Goodbye :: 92 – Victory :: 93 – Weather :: 94 – Photo :: 95 – Rage :: 96 – Internet :: 97 – Fashion :: 98 – Favor :: 99 – Lazy :: 100 – Airplane

Fandoms: Hannibal

Warnings: None

84 – City

Bedelia draws her toes a little further up the sun lounger, out of the direct sunlight. It's not yet mid-morning but the sun is already strong and unlike Hannibal, who is tanning healthily, she's more likely to turn pink.

It feels good to be out in the sunshine and fresh air. In Baltimore she'd felt trapped, a tiny bird in a gilded cage of her and Hannibal's creation. There is certainly no cage in Florence but she's learned the limits and carries them within her like a captive animal that can't adapt to freedom. She'll be tethered to Hannibal till the day she dies, even if she does have further to roam these days.

Hannibal joins her on the terrace and she smiles from beneath the oversize sunhat Hannibal bought her on their second day after she'd begun to freckle at an alarming rate. He presents her with an espresso in a cup so small she almost feels like she's handling something from a doll's house.

"Grazie," she says and waits for the verdict on her accent.

His lip curls, hinting at a smile as he says, "Better," before taking a sip of his own coffee. It's not exactly that Bedelia has been worried about him since they left Baltimore, but he has been looking more relaxed the past few days and she feels a corresponding knot of tension within herself ease.

She doesn't think she's ever seen him in anything other than a three piece suit before they arrived but today he's wearing chinos and a white linen shirt, unbuttoned just enough so that she can see his tanned chest. His hair is still drying after his swim in their pool but already she can see the sun-streaked highlights starting to show through, blonder at the temples.

"I thought we could-" he starts then trails off as Bedelia pitches forward.

"Mm'shhh! Heh-mptchh! Mm'shhh!"

"Salute."

"Excuse me... heh'mshhh!"

He regards her thoughtfully as he presents her with a handkerchief from his pocket which she accepts gratefully.

"Something in the air here?" he asks.

She nods. "I think... so..." Her voice wavers uncertainly and a hand hovers half way to her face clutching Hannibal's handkerchief in anticipation. The sneeze never materialises and she sighs in frustration before burying her head in the handkerchief and blowing her nose as best she can, then wiping away the allergic tears that are forming in the corner of her eyes.

Clearing her throat she says, “Forgive me, I interrupted. What were your plans for the day?”

“First, I think we will take a trip to a pharmacist.”

Bedelia nods, her breath already catching again. “That might, hh, be for the- heh-mshh!- best.”

[Garnet]

Oh no, suddenly out of left field, Hannibal feels! This is just lovely. I've tried to write some post-S2-ending scenarios a few times and never quite felt like I could place the mood or how Bedelia and Hannibal would interact appropriately, but you managed it so well! I love the familiarity between them, but with Bedelia still feeling just uncomfortable and wary enough to be on the alert. This line, in particular:

She'll be tethered to Hannibal till the day she dies, even if she does have further to roam these days.

Gets me right in the heart. Oh, Dr. Du Maurier

All the little atmospheric details too, that emphasize how out of place she feels, between the (improving) accent, sunburning while Hannibal tans (and does he ever :| Mads plz), and of course mystery allergy.

Just, yisss. This whets my appetite for S3 more than the actual promo's have.

[Bruyere]

@Garnet Thank you! I'm glad it worked for you.

Re the s3 promos, intellectually I am not sure I liked what it was hinting at. Non-intellectually I'm all 'Yes, my body is ready for Hannibal v2.0 The Eurotrash Boyfriend.'

1 - Kink :: 2 - Science Fiction :: 3 - Frightened :: 4 - Fake :: 5 – Pencil :: 6 – Squint :: 7 – Misplaced :: 8 – Joy :: 9 - Touched :: 10 – Cough :: 11 – Hot/Cold :: 12 – Sin :: 13 – Care :: 14 – Frail :: 15 – The End :: 16 – Three :: 17 – Never :: 18 – Midnight :: 19 – Promise :: 20 – Fight :: 21 – Pollen :: 22 – Embarrassment :: 23 – Alcohol :: 24 – Mask :: 25 – Mistake :: 26 – Suspicion :: 27 – Disagreement :: 28 – Assignment :: 29 – Purple :: 30 – June :: 31 – Calculating :: 32 – Fall :: 33 – Cry :: 34 – Relief :: 35 – Breath :: 36 – Miserable :: 37 – Chocolate :: 38 – Violent :: 39 – Muffle :: 40 – Swift :: 41 – Run :: 42 – Poison :: 43 – Contagion :: 44 – Tissue :: 45 – Sore :: 46 – Enraptured :: 47 – Wary :: 48 – Pathetic :: 49 – Sweat :: 50 – Gentle :: 51 – Milk :: 52 – Ravenous :: 53 – Blanket :: 54 – Needles :: 55a – Sports :: 55b – Ruin :: 56 – Lovely :: 57 – Hospital ::58 – Annoying :: 59 – Mother :: 60 – Bike :: 61 – Idiot :: 62 – Puppy :: 63 – Control :: 64 – Unfair :: 65 – Similarities :: 66 – Raincoat :: 67 – Worship :: 68 – Attitude :: 69 – Fuck :: 70 – Confession :: 71 – Floor :: 72 – Remedy :: 73 – Don’t :: 74 – Ego :: 75 – Heartless :: 76 – Lullaby :: 77 – Secret :: 78 – Shut Up :: 79 – Music :: 80 – Grudge :: 81 – Solitude :: 82 – Magic :: 83 – Dirty :: 84 – City :: 85 – Teacher :: 86 – Sky :: 87 – Hypocrite :: 88 – Tattoo :: 89 – Money :: 90 – Childhood :: 91 – Goodbye :: 92 – Victory :: 93 – Weather :: 94 – Photo :: 95 – Rage :: 96 – Internet :: 97 – Fashion :: 98 – Favor :: 99 – Lazy :: 100 – Airplane

Fandoms: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (TV Series)

Warnings: None

Note: Phryne is basically pronounced Fryknee.

Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries is a crime series set in 1920s Melbourne, Australia. Phryne is an unconventional, independent lady detective. She ends up working with Detective Jack Robinson on multiple cases and however resistant he might be at the start he soon comes to value her and rely on her. They have ridiculous amounts of chemistry which for various, slightly spoilery, reasons they have yet to properly resolve. This fic is set after Season 1.

19 – Promise

“Jack?” She tapped lightly on the door. “Jack, it’s Phryne. Hugh said you weren’t feeling well.” She waited for a response then rapped a little harder when there was still no answer. “Jack?”

She didn’t want to wake him if he was sleeping but she needed to know that he was alright before she would consider leaving. The same cold had kept Hugh off work for almost a week and she’d come straight to his apartment after ferreting it out of Hugh that Jack was off sick after she’d turned up at the station to consult with him on a case.

It was better not to risk disturbing him if he were asleep, she reasoned as she fished her lock picking tools out of her Chinese embroidered silk purse. And Jack’s landlady was the type of formidable dragon that singularly failed to warm to Phryne’s charms and would almost certainly never let her in to his apartment.

She waited till she felt the catch lift and release and she carefully eased Jack’s door open.

“Jack?” she called softly as she entered. “It’s me, Phryne.”

She heard coughing coming from the direction of the bedroom.

“If you broke into my home Miss Fisher I am going to arrest you and take you down to the station myself.”

She entered the little bedroom, arms stretched in front of her, wrists together ready to be clapped in irons. “You can put me in handcuffs yourself if you’d like,” she said with a wicked smile.

Jack stilled, halfway out of the rickety metal bed and sneezed violently, the bed creaking as he did so.

“Bless you. Don’t get up on my account.”

“Phryne, what are you doing he… heh, here? Hershuhhh!”

“Don’t be cross with poor Hugh.” When Jack groaned she added, “He really didn’t stand a chance.”

She crossed the room and put a hand on his shoulder, guiding him back into bed and pulling the covers up over him. “I didn’t wake you, did I?

He shook his head, coughing with a deep rattling sound. “I was just dozing. “

Phryne removed her gloves and hat, placing them on top of yesterday’s newspaper on the little nightstand next to Jack’s bed.

“You have a fever.” She moved the back of her hand from his forehead to his cheek and he shivered under her touch.

“It’s just a cold,” he replied stubbornly before twisting away from her and sneezing into a large white handkerchief. “Hrsshh! Hrshhh! Ershhh!”

“Bless you. Perhaps I should telephone Mac.”

“I’m fine. Nothing that a couple of days’ rest won’t cure, I promise.” He took her hand and squeezed it.

“We should try and get your temperature down at least.” Phryne rose, returning a few moments later with a cushion to help prop Jack up and a small washcloth and basin.

Jack scowled and grumbled about fussing under his breath in between damp sniffles and smothered coughs as she sat him up and plumped up the pillows then straightened out the sheets and blankets around him.

She settled on the edge of the bed, as near as she dared without touching him. She unbuttoned his pyjama shirt until she could see his collarbone. Dipping the washcloth in the small basin she wiped along his forehead, just touching his hairline then slowly sweeping down his face and along his jaw. The washcloth dragged slightly across his stubbled jawline. She mirrored the action on the other side of his face, allowing herself a moment to appreciate how his hair looked now it wasn’t slicked back.

Gently Phryne blotted the washcloth across the top of his chest and then slowly over each wrist. She fell into a rhythm as she methodically repeated the action again and again, interrupted only by coughs or damp sniffles from Jack.

She hoped that he would fall asleep as she worked but instead he looked at her unwaveringly.

“Nurse Fisher,” he said eventually.

“I haven’t been called that in a long time.”

His eyes became glassy as he continued to watch her. “You must have been such a comfort,” he said in a low voice not much more than a whisper after another long silence. “You can’t imagine, how much more bearable you must have made it for them.”

He coughed and slumped a little more against the pillows and she pulled the covers up around him.

“Promise you’ll be here when I wake up? This wasn’t how I imagined it would be, the first time you came here.” He yawned and wiped at his pinkening nose with his handkerchief. "Nothing's ever how I imagine it'll be with you."

His eyes drifted shut and she pressed the back of her hand against his forehead, relieved that it felt a little cooler than before. “Of course I'll be here," she said.

Jack was probably right. It was probably just a cold and nothing that a few days’ rest couldn’t put right. She wondered if maybe she’d overreacted by coming to him like this. But then Hugh had Dot and his family looking after him when he was ill. She had Dot and Mr Butler and Mac; who did Jack have? The idea of him being alone and ill was unbearable. She rose from his bed and set the washcloth and basin aside.

She longed to look around Jack’s apartment further but it wouldn’t be the same without Jack to scold her every move as she opened drawers that would help reveal Jack’s secrets, so she confined herself to a quick peek in the kitchen cupboards to confirm that there was enough food for her to make soup for the both of them later. It probably wouldn’t be up to Mr Butler’s standards, but Phryne had learned a thing or two in France about cooking and it would be nutritious at least.

She moved a chair from the corner of Jack’s bedroom and set it beside his bed. She wasn’t patient, not with most things, but for Jack Robinson she would happily wait a little longer.

[stephab13]

Oh gosh. I'm not even familiar with half of these and I could just read your fics for hours. They're so gorgeous, so well-written... *dreams*

[Bruyere]

@stephab13 Thank you! It's so lovely to know that you're reading and enjoying these even if you don't know the shows

1 - Kink :: 2 - Science Fiction :: 3 - Frightened :: 4 - Fake :: 5 – Pencil :: 6 – Squint :: 7 – Misplaced :: 8 – Joy :: 9 - Touched :: 10 – Cough :: 11 – Hot/Cold :: 12 – Sin :: 13 – Care :: 14 – Frail :: 15 – The End :: 16 – Three :: 17 – Never :: 18 – Midnight :: 19 – Promise :: 20 – Fight :: 21 – Pollen :: 22 – Embarrassment :: 23 – Alcohol :: 24 – Mask :: 25 – Mistake :: 26 – Suspicion :: 27 – Disagreement :: 28 – Assignment :: 29 – Purple :: 30 – June :: 31 – Calculating :: 32 – Fall :: 33 – Cry :: 34 – Relief :: 35 – Breath :: 36 – Miserable :: 37 – Chocolate :: 38 – Violent :: 39 – Muffle :: 40 – Swift :: 41 – Run :: 42 – Poison :: 43 – Contagion :: 44 – Tissue :: 45 – Sore :: 46 – Enraptured :: 47 – Wary :: 48 – Pathetic :: 49 – Sweat :: 50 – Gentle :: 51 – Milk :: 52 – Ravenous :: 53 – Blanket :: 54 – Needles :: 55a – Sports :: 55b – Ruin :: 56 – Lovely :: 57 – Hospital ::58 – Annoying :: 59 – Mother :: 60 – Bike :: 61 – Idiot :: 62 – Puppy :: 63 – Control :: 64 – Unfair :: 65 – Similarities :: 66 – Raincoat :: 67 – Worship :: 68 – Attitude :: 69 – Fuck :: 70 – Confession :: 71 – Floor :: 72 – Remedy :: 73 – Don’t :: 74 – Ego :: 75 – Heartless :: 76 – Lullaby :: 77 – Secret :: 78 – Shut Up :: 79 – Music :: 80 – Grudge :: 81 – Solitude :: 82 – Magic :: 83 – Dirty :: 84 – City :: 85 – Teacher :: 86 – Sky :: 87 – Hypocrite :: 88 – Tattoo :: 89 – Money :: 90 – Childhood :: 91 – Goodbye :: 92 – Victory :: 93 – Weather :: 94 – Photo :: 95 – Rage :: 96 – Internet :: 97 – Fashion :: 98 – Favor :: 99 – Lazy :: 100 – Airplane

Fandoms: Sleepy Hollow, Galavant, Hannibal, Agents of SHIELD

Warnings: None

Notes: Actual drabbles as I'm procrastinating like hell.

15 – The End, Sleepy Hollow

Set after Ep 2.9 ‘Mama’

“Think the Apocalypse will let us take a – heh-tschh! - sick day?”

“I apologise for gettig you sigk lieutendandt.” He sighed and blew his nose.

Abbie smiled at his congested speech and flopped into one of the chairs in the library before pulling a blanket over her. “Not your fault Crane, but maybe next time someone tells you to stay home… Tschh!”

“Bless you. There’s still some chicken soup left, we could share what’s left?”

“You figure out how to use the microwave yet?”

“I am perfectly capable of working that machine, you have far too little faith in me.”

29 – Purple, Galavant

Isabella removed the purple flowers she had woven into her hair that morning, letting them fall to the floor and edged further away from Galavant. “You should have said something sooner Gal.”

Gal sniffed and accepted the handkerchief that Sid had produced for him. “I know. It’s just… just…Heh’tshhh! Tshhh! Tshh! Ehhhh-hehtshuhhh!” He groaned and blew his nose noisily in the handkerchief and then rubbed at his eyes. “It’s not really very heroic, is it? Taken down by some… some daisies. Hetshhh!”

“They’re not daisies, they’re… Never mind. ” Sid trailed off, seeing Galavant was about to start sneezing again.

33 – Cry, Hannibal

Alana won’t quite blame it on the fact that she’s sick and feeling groggy anyway but when she sees Hannibal with Winston safely seated beside him on the porch of Will’s house she feels such intense relief that she bursts into tears. Heavy, ugly, choking sobs that Hannibal doesn’t comment on but offers a clean handkerchief which she accepts with a hiccupping “Thank you,” before blowing her nose.

“I thought I’d lost him,” she says and buries her free hand deep into Winston’s fur. “I don’t think I could’ve…” She’s grateful when a sneeze interrupts her before she starts crying again.

95 – Rage, Agents of SHIELD

Set after Ep 1.08 The Well

She doesn’t offer comfort and he doesn’t seek it; that’s not why they find themselves together.

Still, she feels compelled to offer him something more when she sees him throw himself into extra training with Skye and working out for hours.

“I tried. You can’t outrun it.”

He’s exhausted and feels like shit, shivering the moment he stops sparring with the bag. “Who says I’m trying to do that?”

May rolls her eyes. “It’ll consume you if you fight it this way. You’re sick, get some rest.”

He starts to protest then sneezes into the crook of his elbow. "Okay."

[AngelEyes]

Galavant!!!! This is perfect. I love it!

“It’s not really very heroic, is it? Taken down by some… some daisies. Hetshhh!”

[sapphiremint]

She and Digg would probably have to tranq him to get him in front of a doctor. Well, Digg would have to stick a tranq dart in him; she’d have to be bait. And Felicity really didn’t want to be bait.

I can totally see this

She worked the Vicks across his back, fingers treading lightly over still vivid pink raised ridges and tight white pockets of scarred skin.

oh. my. god. it should be a crime to make imagery this evocative

Oliver scowled. He seemed to take every inquiry about his health as an insult. “Fine.”

Awww poor baby

“Good,” said Digg. “Want me to bring back food?”

“Yes,” said Felicity at the same time that Oliver said, “No.”

This would be a great scene.

Gosh. This was so great. There really aren't as many Arrow-centric things as I wish there were. Would not say no if you were to write more

[Bruyere]

Galavant!!!! This is perfect. I love it!

“It’s not really very heroic, is it? Taken down by some… some daisies. Hetshhh!”

Thanks! I will definitely have to write more Galavant now they've got a second season!

Gosh. This was so great. There really aren't as many Arrow-centric things as I wish there were. Would not say no if you were to write more

Thank you! Arrow and I sort of had a slight falling out after Spoilery Things Happened and I'm not currently keeping up with it and although that doesn't mean I won't write for it again, it's not top of my list at the moment. But never say never!

[tma]

OMG.... Galavant. :wub: That was SOOO cute and so perfect. And seriously... he is just .... Mmmmm.... hehehe.

Also, I'm totally psyched that they have a second season. And now doubly so if it serves to inspire you.

Thanks so muchly!!

[Bruyere]

And seriously... he is just .... Mmmmm.... hehehe.

Thanks! And yes, I am with you on that, I mean he does have a face most chicks have a thing about!

[Bruyere]

1 - Kink :: 2 - Science Fiction :: 3 - Frightened :: 4 - Fake :: 5 – Pencil :: 6 – Squint :: 7 – Misplaced :: 8 – Joy :: 9 - Touched :: 10 – Cough :: 11 – Hot/Cold :: 12 – Sin :: 13 – Care :: 14 – Frail :: 15 – The End :: 16 – Three :: 17 – Never :: 18 – Midnight :: 19 – Promise :: 20 – Fight :: 21 – Pollen :: 22 – Embarrassment :: 23 – Alcohol :: 24 – Mask :: 25 – Mistake :: 26 – Suspicion :: 27 – Disagreement :: 28 – Assignment :: 29 – Purple :: 30 – June :: 31 – Calculating :: 32 – Fall :: 33 – Cry :: 34 – Relief :: 35 – Breath :: 36 – Miserable :: 37 – Chocolate :: 38 – Violent :: 39 – Muffle :: 40 – Swift :: 41 – Run :: 42 – Poison :: 43 – Contagion :: 44 – Tissue :: 45 – Sore :: 46 – Enraptured :: 47 – Wary :: 48 – Pathetic :: 49 – Sweat :: 50 – Gentle :: 51 – Milk :: 52 – Ravenous :: 53 – Blanket :: 54 – Needles :: 55a – Sports :: 55b – Ruin :: 56 – Lovely :: 57 – Hospital ::58 – Annoying :: 59 – Mother :: 60 – Bike :: 61 – Idiot :: 62 – Puppy :: 63 – Control :: 64 – Unfair :: 65 – Similarities :: 66 – Raincoat :: 67 – Worship :: 68 – Attitude :: 69 – Fuck :: 70 – Confession :: 71 – Floor :: 72 – Remedy :: 73 – Don’t :: 74 – Ego :: 75 – Heartless :: 76 – Lullaby :: 77 – Secret :: 78 – Shut Up :: 79 – Music :: 80 – Grudge :: 81 – Solitude :: 82 – Magic :: 83 – Dirty :: 84 – City :: 85 – Teacher :: 86 – Sky :: 87 – Hypocrite :: 88 – Tattoo :: 89 – Money :: 90 – Childhood :: 91 – Goodbye :: 92 – Victory :: 93 – Weather :: 94 – Photo :: 95 – Rage :: 96 – Internet :: 97 – Fashion :: 98 – Favor :: 99 – Lazy :: 100 – Airplane

Fandoms: The Man from U.N.C.L.E.
Warnings: None

1 – Kink

They enter the safe house with practised ease. Napoleon and Illya sweep the small apartment and declare it safe while Gaby checks and double checks the locks behind them.

It's a toss-up as to whether it's very late at night or early in the morning and they all stare at each other uncertainly before Napoleon, exhausted from the drive and the day’s events, collapses onto the lumpy looking couch and Illya trails Gaby into the kitchen.

She rattles around searching out something for them to eat and drink while Illya watches her listlessly, silent except for his sniffling. She settles on making toast and hot cocoa for them and rolls her eyes as Illya gets under foot.

"Do something helpful," she says and motions for him to get some mugs from the top shelf of the cupboard which are out of her reach as she fusses with the ancient grill.

He reaches up, grimacing as he does so.

"Are you alright Peril?" asks Napoleon from the doorway.

"Fine." Illya scowls.

"That's not the same shoulder from when Draycott threw you against that bookcase?"

Gaby looks up and Illya fidgets under their combined stares. "You said you were fine!"

"I am fine, it's not the same shoulder. I'm just a little stiff from... Heh-kschhht! Kschhht!" He sniffs, shakes his head. His sneezes aren't loud but there's a bottled intensity to them and it takes him a hazy moment to recover. "A little stiff from the car. You should try stealing a car we will fit in."

Napoleon accepts the mugs from Illya and starts making them cocoa. The kitchen is too small with all three of them in it but they finally find their rhythm and she sidesteps Napoleon to take a closer look at Illya.

"Bless you. Next time I'll find a limousine you can stretch out in but it might not be so good on the mountain roads." She steals the cap off Illya's head and puts it on. "I'd look good in a chauffeur's uniform though."

Napoleon laughs as Gaby dodges out of Illya's reach when he tries to get his cap back and he steers Illya into a rickety chair at the kitchen table handing him a mug. Illya sniffs and declines the offer of whiskey to his drink. Gaby shakes her head as well.

"I'm driving tomorrow."

Both Napoleon and Illya raise their eyebrows and she rolls her eyes, refusing to have this argument again. She’d only let Napoleon drive this evening for their cover. After the mission had gone awry and a hasty exit had been required the police had been looking for a tall dark man travelling on his own and a brunette and a very tall blonde which was how Napoleon had ended up driving with Gaby next to him in the front and Illya curled up on the backseat, out of sight. They can’t move from the safehouse until they get the call from U.N.C.L.E. but when they do they’ll need to clear the border as quickly as possible and Gaby’s the best driver of the three of them.

Illya sneezes into the crook of his arm again and this time it's followed by a barking cough. Still she's not too concerned as he launches at the plate of hot buttered toast she places on the table in front of them both as though he hasn't eaten in a week. Napoleon looks as though he wants to argue with Gaby about driving, thinks better of it and snags the other seat at the table instead.

Gaby wraps an arm around Illya and stands behind him. He tenses at her touch and she and Napoleon both frown.

“Let me take a look, Peril,” says Napoleon abandoning the seat he’d just taken.

“It’s nothing, I’m just stiff from- Ktchhh! Ktchsuhh!” He remains curled forwards, fist still pressed against his nose. Napoleon takes advantage of Illya's distraction and gets his jacket off and has lifted up the back of his shirt before Illya can complain. For once, Illya’s not downplaying any injuries which is some comfort. There’s a little bruising on his left shoulder blade but nothing too serious.

“I know this is going to be difficult for you but try and relax.” Napoleon places his hands on Illya’s shoulders and kneads away at the kinks caused by being curled up on the tiny backseat. Illya doesn’t say anything but eventually his eyes close and he lets out a little murmur of satisfaction every now and then. Gaby has stolen Napoleon’s chair and she watches with a smile at the contrasting look of concentration on Napoleon’s face and the growing relaxation on Illya’s.

They’re only interrupted when the phone rings, shrill and tinny in the quiet of the place.

“I’ll get it,” she says as Illya blinks sleepily back to life.

She lifts the receiver and waits for the other person to speak.

“Mrs George?”

“Yes.”

“I hope the weather has not disappointed you.” The contact for the region is a fan of keeping things coded over the phone, believing that paranoia is always justified.

Gaby tries not to feel ridiculous or to look out the window at the clear night sky as she replies, “It has been cloudy since we arrived.”

“I trust the weather will be better tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” she says and the line goes dead.

“So?” Illya asks.

“We’re good to go,” says Gaby. It’s good news that they can clear out straight away but she can see from the resigned looks on Napoleon’s and Illya’s faces that they’d been as pleased as she had at the prospect of even a couple of hours of sleep.

Illya twists away from Napoleon and pitches forward into cupped hands. “Heh-kschh!” He remains bent forward for a few moments then straightens up before doubling over again. “Hehkschh!”

“Bless you,” she says as Napoleon snaffles the last piece of toast from the plate. Illya’s slow to rise from his chair but when he does so he’s moving more freely.

“Feeling better?” Napoleon asks.

Illya sniffles and shrugs self-consciously. “A little.”

“I’m glad. It means you can pay me back when we get there tomorrow.”

Illya shakes his head, not comprehending.

“I’ll take the backseat and you can stretch out in front.”

“No, Cowboy. It’s okay, I can-”

“The words you’re looking for are, ‘Thank you, Solo.’ Besides, if Gaby’s driving it’s not going to take long to get across the border.”

Gaby shepherds them both towards the door and ignores their continued light-hearted bickering. They all know that Illya will relent, he clearly hasn’t got any fight left in him for the moment and sure enough he slides into the front of the car next to Gaby without a further word. She gives his knee a quick squeeze and he smiles at her fondly.

“I’m okay,” he says although his voice is deeper and heavier than usual.

She nods and puts her foot to the floor; the sooner they’re out of here the better.

[Bruyere]

1 - Kink :: 2 - Science Fiction :: 3 - Frightened :: 4 - Fake :: 5 – Pencil :: 6 – Squint :: 7 – Misplaced :: 8 – Joy :: 9 - Touched :: 10 – Cough :: 11 – Hot/Cold :: 12 – Sin :: 13 – Care :: 14 – Frail :: 15 – The End :: 16 – Three :: 17 – Never :: 18 – Midnight :: 19 – Promise :: 20 – Fight :: 21 – Pollen :: 22 – Embarrassment :: 23 – Alcohol :: 24 – Mask :: 25 – Mistake :: 26 – Suspicion :: 27 – Disagreement :: 28 – Assignment :: 29 – Purple :: 30 – June :: 31 – Calculating :: 32 – Fall :: 33 – Cry :: 34 – Relief :: 35 – Breath :: 36 – Miserable :: 37 – Chocolate :: 38 – Violent :: 39 – Muffle :: 40 – Swift :: 41 – Run :: 42 – Poison :: 43 – Contagion :: 44 – Tissue :: 45 – Sore :: 46 – Enraptured :: 47 – Wary :: 48 – Pathetic :: 49 – Sweat :: 50 – Gentle :: 51 – Milk :: 52 – Ravenous :: 53 – Blanket :: 54 – Needles :: 55a – Sports :: 55b – Ruin :: 56 – Lovely :: 57 – Hospital ::58 – Annoying :: 59 – Mother :: 60 – Bike :: 61 – Idiot :: 62 – Puppy :: 63 – Control :: 64 – Unfair :: 65 – Similarities :: 66 – Raincoat :: 67 – Worship :: 68 – Attitude :: 69 – Fuck :: 70 – Confession :: 71 – Floor :: 72 – Remedy :: 73 – Don’t :: 74 – Ego :: 75 – Heartless :: 76 – Lullaby :: 77 – Secret :: 78 – Shut Up :: 79 – Music :: 80 – Grudge :: 81 – Solitude :: 82 – Magic :: 83 – Dirty :: 84 – City :: 85 – Teacher :: 86 – Sky :: 87 – Hypocrite :: 88 – Tattoo :: 89 – Money :: 90 – Childhood :: 91 – Goodbye :: 92 – Victory :: 93 – Weather :: 94 – Photo :: 95 – Rage :: 96 – Internet :: 97 – Fashion :: 98 – Favor :: 99 – Lazy :: 100 – Airplane

Fandom: iZombie

Warnings: None

Spoilers: Yes, for the end of S1 & start of S2

Notes: An alternative version of how Liv and Ravi reconcile after the end of S1.

Two drabbles (ish) in two days. How painfully obvious is it that I have an essay due in this week?

80 – Grudge

I hadn’t realised how much I’d come to take Ravi for granted until after the whole Meat Cute debacle and I’d used the cure on Major and Blaine. Walking into a silent morgue each morning without him there to greet me was more depressing than I cared to admit.

Three days of this and he wouldn’t speak to me unless we had a dead body to look at. On the fourth day, I decided I couldn’t take it anymore and knocked on the door to his office.

“Ravi? I know you’re in there.” I knocked again, harder. “Come on, I’m sorry about the cure I-” The door opened.

“Please, Liv. I’ve heard it before and I’m really not in the mood today.”

“You can’t stay mad forever.”

“I think you’ll find I… I… can… Huheshoo! Huheshoo!”

I instinctively took a step back even as he turned away from me and sneezed into his elbow.

“Bless you.” It suddenly dawned on me; he'd hidden in his office last year when he'd gotten sick. “You’re sick! That’s why you’ve been avoiding me the past couple of days!”

“I’ve been avoiding you because I’m still angry!”

“But you don’t deny you’re sick.”

“A little under the weather, maybe.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Are you done apologising for the day because I need to go out and buy more Dayquil.”

“I’ll go,” I offered. “It’s the least I can do.” Ravi considered for a moment, eyeing me suspiciously.

“Huheshoo!” He’d managed to produce a Kleenex from his lab coat pocket and sniffled into it. “Fide, this doesd’t...” he stopped blew his nose and then sneezed again. “Eshoo! This doesn’t mean you’re forgiven.”

“Of course not.” It was definitely a start though.

“Hushoo!”

“Bless you! Do you need anything else?”

He hesitated. “Well, if you’re offering… Cough drops? The cherry kind not blackcurrant.”

“Okay, cherry not blackcurrant, got it.”

“Oh and some more tissues, the kind with lotion.”

“Anything else?”

“Only because you’re asking, chicken soup from the deli across the street? Not all of us can eat in at work you know.”

“Dayquil, cherry coughdrops, Kleenex with lotion and soup, got it!” I counted it off on my fingers as I said it and earned a smile from him.

“I’m still mad at you,” he said.

“I know.” But it was a step in the right direction and as I left the morgue I felt more hopeful than I had done for days.

[VividBubbles!]

iZombie! Yay!

Awww! You got Liv and Ravi's relationship so perfectly. And I can definitely imagine Ravi curling up in his office to keep his germs away from everyone else and to get some rest. I loved this a lot! I hope we get to see more of these!

[Bruyere]

I loved this a lot! I hope we get to see more of these!

Aww, glad you enjoyed it! I've fallen behind on iZombie again but I'm sure I'll catch up at some point and write more of them.

1 - Kink :: 2 - Science Fiction :: 3 - Frightened :: 4 - Fake :: 5 – Pencil :: 6 – Squint :: 7 – Misplaced :: 8 – Joy :: 9 - Touched :: 10 – Cough :: 11 – Hot/Cold :: 12 – Sin :: 13 – Care :: 14 – Frail :: 15 – The End :: 16 – Three :: 17 – Never :: 18 – Midnight :: 19 – Promise :: 20 – Fight :: 21 – Pollen :: 22 – Embarrassment :: 23 – Alcohol :: 24 – Mask :: 25 – Mistake :: 26 – Suspicion :: 27 – Disagreement :: 28 – Assignment :: 29 – Purple :: 30 – June :: 31 – Calculating :: 32 – Fall :: 33 – Cry :: 34 – Relief :: 35 – Breath :: 36 – Miserable :: 37 – Chocolate :: 38 – Violent :: 39 – Muffle :: 40 – Swift :: 41 – Run :: 42 – Poison :: 43 – Contagion :: 44 – Tissue :: 45 – Sore :: 46 – Enraptured :: 47 – Wary :: 48 – Pathetic :: 49 – Sweat :: 50 – Gentle :: 51 – Milk :: 52 – Ravenous :: 53 – Blanket :: 54 – Needles :: 55a – Sports :: 55b – Ruin :: 56 – Lovely :: 57 – Hospital ::58 – Annoying :: 59 – Mother :: 60 – Bike :: 61 – Idiot :: 62 – Puppy :: 63 – Control :: 64 – Unfair :: 65 – Similarities :: 66 – Raincoat :: 67 – Worship :: 68 – Attitude :: 69 – Fuck :: 70 – Confession :: 71 – Floor :: 72 – Remedy :: 73 – Don’t :: 74 – Ego :: 75 – Heartless :: 76 – Lullaby :: 77 – Secret :: 78 – Shut Up :: 79 – Music :: 80 – Grudge :: 81 – Solitude :: 82 – Magic :: 83 – Dirty :: 84 – City :: 85 – Teacher :: 86 – Sky :: 87 – Hypocrite :: 88 – Tattoo :: 89 – Money :: 90 – Childhood :: 91 – Goodbye :: 92 – Victory :: 93 – Weather :: 94 – Photo :: 95 – Rage :: 96 – Internet :: 97 – Fashion :: 98 – Favor :: 99 – Lazy :: 100 – Airplane

Fandoms: The Man from U.N.C.L.E.

Warnings: None

Notes: Is tidying up and posting 2 fics in one day excessive or an effective use of a sick day? I swear at one point this was much more strongly related to the prompt word.

67 – Worship

Napoleon claps the other man on the shoulder and congratulates him on a close race.

Gaby slides her sunglasses down her nose and allows herself a moment to admire Napoleon’s form as he pushes himself out of the swimming pool. A very brief moment, Napoleon is supposed to be her cousin after all.

The woman that Gaby’s been befriending all week, Caroline, the rich bored socialite daughter of a man suspected of arms dealing, has no such qualms. She’s openly gawking at Napoleon and Napoleon is preening under such naked desire.

“Good race,” she says. “I always like to be on the winning side.”

Napoleon settles on the foot of Gaby’s sun lounger and grins at Caroline before snatching up a towel and carefully drying himself off. It’s an intimate gathering at Caroline’s parents’ which means that there’s dozens of people around the pool all vying for Caroline’s attention and only half of which Gaby thinks Caroline actually knows. It’s not her concern though. She’s the flavour of the month at the moment and it only needs to last long enough to get them the intelligence they need.

Napoleon opens his mouth to reply then ducks his head away at the last moment. “Etcheuhh! Etschuhh!”

“Bless you!” They chorus in surprise.

“Sorry, I- ishuhh!” Napoleon remains with his fist curled tightly beneath his nose, sniffling.

Caroline wrinkles her nose. “Are you okay?”

Napoleon nods. “Sometimes the chlorine gets to me.”

“I’ve never heard of that before,” Caroline replies. Gaby has to admit it’s a new one for her as well although if something like that would set off anyone, it would have to be Napoleon.

Napoleon smiles weakly, his breathing still uneven as though he could sneeze again at any moment. “You should have seen me after the party at the Moores'.”

Caroline frowns. “The Moores' house is on the lake.”

Napoleon freezes and the look on Caroline’s face grows harder.

“We spent Christmas at their new place in the Caribbean, they’ve got an amazing pool out there.” Gaby takes sip of her drink and narrows her eyes at Caroline. “I know they've only had their closest friends out there to visit so far but I thought...” She trails off waiting, praying that her words have the intended effect.

“Oh, of course,” says Caroline in a rush. “We couldn’t make it last Christmas. Daddy had to be in Switzerland for business. Otherwise we’d have loved to have been there.”

‘Wasps,’ Gaby thinks.

“Perhaps I should… ishuhh!” Napoleon pinches his nose and shakes his head a couple of times. Little droplets from his wet hair land on Gaby’s bare legs and she pokes him with her toes. “Ishuhh! Perhaps I should dry off inside. I’ll be right back.”

Caroline goes right back to staring at him as he gets up and walks away, sneezing again into the crook of his arm.

“I hate to see him go but I love to watch him leave,” she says with a smirk.

Gaby almost chokes on her drink.

Caroline tips back her head and laughs, glossy blonde curls spilling over her shoulders as she does so. “Perhaps I’ll go help him dry off,” she says, and raises an eyebrow so that Gaby’s left in no doubt.

Gaby smiles sweetly, as expected. “I’ll freshen up myself,” she says and rattles her empty glass.

She makes her way over to the temporary bar at the far end of the pool.

“Is he alright?” asks Illya as he takes Gaby’s glass and fixes her another martini.

“He’ll live. We should add chlorine to the list.” Much to Napoleon’s annoyance she and Illya have started curating a list of things that make Napoleon sneeze. It’s half a joke and half, so Gaby and Illya maintain, essential information for fieldwork. “Do you think there’s anything that doesn’t get to him?”

“Do you really want to test that?”

“Probably not.” She watches Caroline slip in the side door of the pool house after Napoleon. “She was with her father in Switzerland over Christmas.”

“Did she say who they were with?”

“No but it’s a start.”

Illya places a fresh martini in front of her. “Anything else I can get you, Madam?” There’s only a hint of impatience in his voice when he says it.

“Would you rather trade places with Solo?” she asks as she takes a sip; he’s a good bartender.

Illya grimaces. “No.”

“Perhaps you’d prefer to do a little exploring with me instead? Her father’s study is second on the right.”

“That is more helpful. See you inside in a few minutes?”

Gaby nods and makes her way to the house. She spares a glance backwards but the door to the pool house is closed. She’s got ten, maybe fifteen minutes before Caroline and Napoleon reappear, and she intends to use them wisely.

[Bruyere]

1 - Kink :: 2 - Science Fiction :: 3 - Frightened :: 4 - Fake :: 5 – Pencil :: 6 – Squint :: 7 – Misplaced :: 8 – Joy :: 9 - Touched :: 10 – Cough :: 11 – Hot/Cold :: 12 – Sin :: 13 – Care :: 14 – Frail :: 15 – The End :: 16 – Three :: 17 – Never :: 18 – Midnight :: 19 – Promise :: 20 – Fight :: 21 – Pollen :: 22 – Embarrassment :: 23 – Alcohol :: 24 – Mask :: 25 – Mistake :: 26 – Suspicion :: 27 – Disagreement :: 28 – Assignment :: 29 – Purple :: 30 – June :: 31 – Calculating :: 32 – Fall :: 33 – Cry :: 34 – Relief :: 35 – Breath :: 36 – Miserable :: 37 – Chocolate :: 38 – Violent :: 39 – Muffle :: 40 – Swift :: 41 – Run :: 42 – Poison :: 43 – Contagion :: 44 – Tissue :: 45 – Sore :: 46 – Enraptured :: 47 – Wary :: 48 – Pathetic :: 49 – Sweat :: 50 – Gentle :: 51 – Milk :: 52 – Ravenous :: 53 – Blanket :: 54 – Needles :: 55a – Sports :: 55b – Ruin :: 56 – Lovely :: 57 – Hospital ::58 – Annoying :: 59 – Mother :: 60 – Bike :: 61 – Idiot :: 62 – Puppy :: 63 – Control :: 64 – Unfair :: 65 – Similarities :: 66 – Raincoat :: 67 – Worship :: 68 – Attitude :: 69 – Fuck :: 70 – Confession :: 71 – Floor :: 72 – Remedy :: 73 – Don’t :: 74 – Ego :: 75 – Heartless :: 76 – Lullaby :: 77 – Secret :: 78 – Shut Up :: 79 – Music :: 80 – Grudge :: 81 – Solitude :: 82 – Magic :: 83 – Dirty :: 84 – City :: 85 – Teacher :: 86 – Sky :: 87 – Hypocrite :: 88 – Tattoo :: 89 – Money :: 90 – Childhood :: 91 – Goodbye :: 92 – Victory :: 93 – Weather :: 94 – Photo :: 95 – Rage :: 96 – Internet :: 97 – Fashion :: 98 – Favor :: 99 – Lazy :: 100 – Airplane

Fandoms: The Man from U.N.C.L.E.
Warnings: None

Notes: Total self-indulgence after a roller coaster week.

78 – Shut Up

They’re both too noisy when they enter the apartment after dinner even through the closed bedroom door; Gaby’s laugh bright and sparkling at Napoleon’s voice too loud while he spins some tall tale. Illya cringes at the sound and the way it spikes through him, making his headache worse. If he stays silent perhaps they’ll assume he’s asleep and they won’t bother him.

He swipes again at his nose which has been running all evening and buries his head under the cover when he sneezes.

“Ifsshhuuhhh!” The sneeze doesn’t provide any relief and he gropes blindly until his hand reaches the box of tissues and he plucks another couple from it to replace the soggy ones now discarded under the covers.

If he’d hoped that ducking under the covers would have been enough to keep his sneezing from Gaby and Napoleon he’s disappointed. A moment later Gaby knocks on the door and then sticks her head in. She flicks on the light and he immediately retreats under the covers, protesting the blinding pain it sends through his skull.

“Illya? You’re awake? How are you feeling?”

“Please,” is all he can manage to get out and fortunately Napoleon catches on quick and turns the light off. He relaxes slightly at that and pokes his head out from the covers in time to see Gaby stumble against the bed although he’s not sure if it’s because she’s drunk or from the sudden darkness.

She settles heavily on the bed next to him, misjudges the distance and jostles him. Fresh waves of pain roll through him at that and he moans.

“Sorry, sorry,” Gaby murmurs in a low voice. “May I?” Her hand is hovering over his forehead and he gives her a tight nod.

“You’re warm. Headache?” He gives her another tiny nod. “I thought this was just a cold.”

She sighs and runs her fingers through his hair, tracing her fingernails lightly across his scalp. He swallows and tries to form an answer but the pressure of her fingers against his head is so good that he can’t quite manage it.

“You know Peril,” says Napoleon, re-entering the bedroom. “Not one to do things by half. Wouldn’t be the Russian way, would it?” He’s matched Gaby in lowering his voice and the tone is soothing. It washes over Illya and when Napoleon sits on the edge of the bed and places a cool flannel against his forehead it feels so good that he would be happy to stay there forever.

His cold has other ideas and when his breath audibly hitches Napoleon retrieves the box of tissues and presses a fresh handful onto Illya.

“-hh... Hihhhh… Ihhh…” He sniffles, swipes at his nose, too tired and miserable to really care that it’s running freely again. “Ihhh… hhhh… ngh.”

Gaby clicks her tongue at the lost sneeze as Napoleon sighs sympathetically. Napoleon kicks his shoes off and sits onto the bed next to Illya. He takes the tissues back off of him and wipes his runny nose for him. Illya grumbles a little but doesn’t stop him. He should feel embarrassed, ashamed, he’s a grown man, but he can’t quite bring himself to care.

Napoleon shifts closer until Illya can rest his head against his thigh. The wet cloth is still against his forehead and through it Napoleon is massaging his temples. Between that and Gaby’s hand still snaking its way across his scalp he can feel his headache dissolving. He’s used to the headaches, to working through them with clenched teeth until he can find somewhere dark and silent to hide away and wait them out. Having not just one person but two looking after him through them is a novel but definitely not unpleasant turn of events which he is learning to adapt to.

The sneeze sneaks up on him with no warning and sprays across Napoleon’s leg.

“Ishuhhh!” He tries to bury the next one under the covers but he’s pinned between the two of them. Napoleon reaches for the tissues again and manages to catch the next one in a crumpled batch.

“Iktschuhhh!” It rattles through him and his head starts to ache anew. “Sorry,” he mutters and takes the tissues from Napoleon to clear his nose. It’s a terrible sound when he does so but neither Gaby nor Napoleon flinch from him. Gaby presses a small kiss to his temple and Napoleon gives his shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

He knows he should tell them both to go. Even if the mission is over it won’t do for all of them to be sick but instead he shivers and mumbles, “Thank you.”

Gaby yawns and stretches out next to him, her body a welcome little furnace at his back and her breath hot against his neck as she falls asleep. Napoleon pulls a blanket from the foot of the bed over them as Illya shivers again. He takes up where Gaby left off, running a hand through Illya’s hair. His touch is firmer than hers and he feels the headache receding again from its stubborn resting place behind his eyes.

He can’t move fast enough again to twist away from Napoleon but he does manage a rushed ‘Sorry’ before he sneezes again. “Ishhhh!”

Napoleon wipes Illya’s nose again and when Illya starts to protest he just murmurs, “Shh, go to sleep, Peril.” And for once, Illya is happy to follow Napoleon’s instructions.

Edited December 5, 2015 by Bruyere

[*Dark_Side*]

This story was so perfect. There is nothing more I could have wanted. I really hope you keep writing stories for this fandom.

[Bruyere]

I am definitely planning on writing more in this fandom. I have another couple of shorter pieces and 2 longer ones which are both half-written and which I really, really want to get done before the end of the year.

Thanks so much for commenting. It's not the most popular fandom around so I really appreciate it. And I'm so glad you liked it. I'm a total sucker for h/c and these characters are so primed for it.

[Bruyere]

1 - Kink :: 2 - Science Fiction :: 3 - Frightened :: 4 - Fake :: 5 – Pencil :: 6 – Squint :: 7 – Misplaced :: 8 – Joy :: 9 - Touched :: 10 – Cough :: 11 – Hot/Cold :: 12 – Sin :: 13 – Care :: 14 – Frail :: 15 – The End :: 16 – Three :: 17 – Never :: 18 – Midnight :: 19 – Promise :: 20 – Fight :: 21 – Pollen :: 22 – Embarrassment :: 23 – Alcohol :: 24 – Mask :: 25 – Mistake :: 26 – Suspicion :: 27 – Disagreement :: 28 – Assignment :: 29 – Purple :: 30 – June :: 31 – Calculating :: 32 – Fall :: 33 – Cry :: 34 – Relief :: 35 – Breath :: 36 – Miserable :: 37 – Chocolate :: 38 – Violent :: 39 – Muffle :: 40 – Swift :: 41 – Run :: 42 – Poison :: 43 – Contagion :: 44 – Tissue :: 45 – Sore :: 46 – Enraptured :: 47 – Wary :: 48 – Pathetic :: 49 – Sweat :: 50 – Gentle :: 51 – Milk :: 52 – Ravenous :: 53 – Blanket :: 54 – Needles :: 55a – Sports :: 55b – Ruin :: 56 – Lovely :: 57 – Hospital ::58 – Annoying :: 59 – Mother :: 60 – Bike :: 61 – Idiot :: 62 – Puppy :: 63 – Control :: 64 – Unfair :: 65 – Similarities :: 66 – Raincoat :: 67 – Worship :: 68 – Attitude :: 69 – Fuck :: 70 – Confession :: 71 – Floor :: 72 – Remedy :: 73 – Don’t :: 74 – Ego :: 75 – Heartless :: 76 – Lullaby :: 77 – Secret :: 78 – Shut Up :: 79 – Music :: 80 – Grudge :: 81 – Solitude :: 82 – Magic :: 83 – Dirty :: 84 – City :: 85 – Teacher :: 86 – Sky :: 87 – Hypocrite :: 88 – Tattoo :: 89 – Money :: 90 – Childhood :: 91 – Goodbye :: 92 – Victory :: 93 – Weather :: 94 – Photo :: 95 – Rage :: 96 – Internet :: 97 – Fashion :: 98 – Favor :: 99 – Lazy :: 100 – Airplane

Fandoms: Lucifer (TV)
Warnings: None

73 – Don’t

The catch of his breath drew her attention and she glanced across just in time to see his features crumpling as he sneezed.

“Ih… Hxtshh!” He rubbed his nose and from the way it twitched she figured he wasn’t done. Sure enough a moment later he loosely directed a more forceful sneeze into a cupped palm. “Ih’hhxxt!” He shook his head as if to clear it.  “Sneezing is not entirely the experience that I had been led to believe.”

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Hm? Fine, Detective.”

“It’s just I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sneeze before and there’s been that bug going around and now you’re…” She trailed off as his brow wrinkled again.

“Ihxiitschuhhh!” He pinched his nose and shook his head again, then added with a shiver, “Though, there is something exhilarating about it, don’t you think?”

Chloe shrugged. “I guess.”

She focused back on the road and the downtown traffic. They crawled another couple of blocks and it wasn’t until a call from Dan about the case that she realised how unusual such a long silence was from Lucifer. With a start she realised that she was actually starting to miss his constant talking.

Another gasping breath and she looked across to see Lucifer driven forward again with yet another forceful sneeze. “Heh-ixtschuhh!”

“Bless you!”

“Don’t,” he replied. “Don’t say that.” His voice was cold and hard.

“You know it’s considered polite in most places to say that, right?”

He glared at her and started to answer when his features slackened and he half-turned away from her to sneeze again. “Ehextshuhhh!”

“Gesundheit. Is that better?” she asked, rolling her eyes.

He sniffled, running his wrist beneath his nose. “Much.”

“There’s kleenex in the glove compartment.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed deeply but took a handful anyway. “Thank you Detective.”

[Bruyere]

Every now and then I think this will definitely be the year that I finish these off and then it creeps closer to the anniversary of the date when I started this thread and I resign myself to the fact that it's probably not going to happen. Again. Ah well.

1 - Kink :: 2 - Science Fiction :: 3 - Frightened :: 4 - Fake :: 5 – Pencil :: 6 – Squint :: 7 – Misplaced :: 8 – Joy :: 9 - Touched :: 10 – Cough :: 11 – Hot/Cold :: 12 – Sin :: 13 – Care :: 14 – Frail :: 15 – The End :: 16 – Three :: 17 – Never :: 18 – Midnight :: 19 – Promise :: 20 – Fight :: 21 – Pollen :: 22 – Embarrassment :: 23 – Alcohol :: 24 – Mask :: 25 – Mistake :: 26 – Suspicion :: 27 – Disagreement :: 28 – Assignment :: 29 – Purple :: 30 – June :: 31 – Calculating :: 32 – Fall :: 33 – Cry :: 34 – Relief :: 35 – Breath :: 36 – Miserable :: 37 – Chocolate :: 38 – Violent :: 39 – Muffle :: 40 – Swift :: 41 – Run :: 42 – Poison :: 43 – Contagion :: 44 – Tissue :: 45 – Sore :: 46 – Enraptured :: 47 – Wary :: 48 – Pathetic :: 49 – Sweat :: 50 – Gentle :: 51 – Milk :: 52 – Ravenous :: 53 – Blanket :: 54 – Needles :: 55a – Sports :: 55b – Ruin :: 56 – Lovely :: 57 – Hospital ::58 – Annoying :: 59 – Mother :: 60 – Bike :: 61 – Idiot :: 62 – Puppy :: 63 – Control :: 64 – Unfair :: 65 – Similarities :: 66 – Raincoat :: 67 – Worship :: 68 – Attitude :: 69 – Fuck :: 70 – Confession :: 71 – Floor :: 72 – Remedy :: 73 – Don’t :: 74 – Ego :: 75 – Heartless :: 76 – Lullaby :: 77 – Secret :: 78 – Shut Up :: 79 – Music :: 80 – Grudge :: 81 – Solitude :: 82 – Magic :: 83 – Dirty :: 84 – City :: 85 – Teacher :: 86 – Sky :: 87 – Hypocrite :: 88 – Tattoo :: 89 – Money :: 90 – Childhood :: 91 – Goodbye :: 92 – Victory :: 93 – Weather :: 94 – Photo :: 95 – Rage :: 96 – Internet :: 97 – Fashion :: 98 – Favor :: 99 – Lazy :: 100 – Airplane

Fandoms: Galavant
Warnings: None

79 - Music

“You know I can’t sleep unless someone sings to me,” Richard whined. “Oh, come on Gal.”

“Don’t call me that,” he muttered.

“It’ll help me feel better.” Richard coughed pitifully, then slightly more forcefully until he had to sit up.

“Fine. Way back in days of old, there was a legend told about a hero known as Galavant!” He rattled through the song, the words merging into each other, hoping to get it over and done with as quickly as possible.

“Properly,” said Richard.

Galavant rolled his eyes but rubbed a hand over his face and settled back into his chair. “How are you not sick of this damn song yet? Way back in days of old, there was a legend told about a hero known… as… Gal-ah- vahnt ah! Eeschhoo!” He pitched forwards with the unexpected force of it and only just managed to steeple his hands over his face before it was followed by a second. “Exschhoo!”

“Oh.” Richard had the grace to look sheepish. “Perhaps I can manage without a song tonight.”

Galavant groaned. “I hate you.”

[tma]

OMG... Gallavant.  and then I got to re-re-re-read your Napolean (Man from UNCLE) fic.  I just....   SOOO good.  Love your descriptions, you manage to have characters just brilliantly in character, and I love that I can picture everything that you write.

 

Thank you muchly!!

[queenie]

Those Illya and Jack Robinson drabbles were the BEST and I would read 120 more. 

[Sneezy123]

I SCREAMED when I saw In the Heights! Omg, finally someone else who knows that fandom. I'd die if you updated it omg. I would LOVE more allergic Usnavi! <3

[Bruyere]

Well, it's been a while hasn't it? Anyway, I'm posting these before I overthink it.

Fandom: A League of Their Own (Amazon Prime)

17 – Never, A League of Their Own, Lupe

It's less convincing each time she says it. Particularly when she sneezes in the middle of saying it.

“I never – ishuhh! -get sick.” Esti and Jess stare at her sceptically. Her skin is paler than Jess’s with red dots on her cheeks the colour of their caps.

“Sure,” says Jess.

“I don’t – hehisshuhh! Heishuhh!”

“You can’t play.” Esti nods vigorously in agreement with Jess.

“What, you can understand that?” She coughs. “My arm is better, I need to play.” It comes out as a whine.

“No,” says Esti and before Lupe knows what has happened she’s been hustled up the stairs and into bed.

 

56 – Lovely, A League of Their Own, Max & Clance, set while Max is living with Clance

“Okay, so I’ve got you soup,” Clance announces before she’s even made into the room with the tray. “And crackers, and a soda, in case your throat still hurts. And I know how you can’t sit still, even when you’re sick,” she glares at Max, who tries to look contrite and not like she was just thinking about getting out of bed, “so I bought you a copy of Steve Jackson and it’s the one where-”

Max smiles as Clance settles the tray on her and then joins her on the bed as she continues to explain the finer points of the comic she’s chosen for her.

Clance only stops to draw breath when Max turns her head and sneezes sharply.

“God bless! Are you okay?”

Max smiles, feeling the warmth of Clance against her. “I’m getting there."