I’m booooored.

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So I’m going to do one or two drabbles for all my fandoms. Hopefully this will get me back into a fanfiction mood and I can go work on one of my fics. I seem to have this thing where I can’t work on my original story and fanfiction at the same time. (reached chapter 4 today, though. Wheee)

BTW, no HP or LOTR, because I’m all HP-drabbled out and I’m scared of writing anything LOTR.

Letters
For the first few months, she sent plenty of letters. They contained detailed descriptions of her adventures…most of them rather dangerous. They also contained detailed descriptions of her feelings towards the two boys she was travelling with, and detailed descriptions of the enemies she seemed to infrequently make.

She was quite a good writer, or so it seemed. Her letters were nearly always quite funny. They’d missed this part of their sister’s personality. Her sarcastic comments, in the letters, were amusing instead of cutting or annoying.

After a while, though, the letters stopped coming. She’d grown up, and they’d missed it.

Thinking
She thought about it more than she thought she probably ought to.

Hope. What’d Takeru done to deserve to be the bearer of something so precious? She didn’t doubt that he’d done something, but she didn’t know what it was. And she didn’t want to ask Hikari, because she was his best friend, and for ages people had been spreading rumors that they were dating in secret.

Truth be told, she rather hoped not.

She asked Daisuke if they were, since he was bound to know. He wound up completely losing his temper, again, and threatening to maim almost anyone who wasn’t Hikari.

Aside from anything else
It was a depressingly cold summer’s day when he finally got the courage to phone her.

“It wouldn’t work out,” she told him. “I mean, aside from anything else, I live in New York now. We’d hardly see each other.”

“‘Aside from anything else’?”

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, “but I’d rather we were just friends. And you are my friend.”

He nodded, and then remembered she was on the phone and not in front of him. “Right. Okay. When are you next coming to visit?”

“Soon,” she answered. “Now I have to go.”

She put the phone down. Joe stayed where he was.

“Bugger,” he muttered.

Luck
Few people had said that Luke was lucky to have her. Few people had mentioned luck as having anything to do with it, to be honest. They’d just said it was good that they had each other. Or something like that.

She’d thought about it.

She sat up and brushed her bright red hair out of her face. She looked at Luke. He was still asleep.

It probably didn’t really matter who was lucky. Love had to be far more important.

All the same, look at how far she’d come…it was good that she had him now. It definately made her happy, after all.

Traitor

He walked into the room. The boy…well, he was hardly a boy anymore…was there.

This person was, he thought somewhat uneasily, his grandson in all but blood. If his apprentice had been his son in all but blood, and this was the apprentice of his apprentice…

He shook that thought away and looked at him. He’d seen him before, when he was just a boy, but he was an adult now. His hair was red and he spoke angrily. It wasn’t hard to tell what he was thinking. He knew who the man who’d captured him was.

And what he used to be.

“Traitor…”

Treasure
Trout and Linda returned to the hut, thoroughly disheartened.

“You should have killed it,” Trout snapped at her.

“I tried, you idiot.”

They glanced around the cabin.

“We won’t find it,” Trout muttered. “The evil…what shall we do now?”

“Trout…I wanted it too, but it is only treasure. We tried.”

“It’s not only treasure!” he yelled at her furiously. “It’s more than that! She left me for…for that! I’m not going to let…her beat me!”

Linda had seen him like this before. She didn’t want to point out that Kate didn’t exactly leave him. She sat down on the bed and tried on the turquoise-studded boots.

Crashing
One day, Ursula was walking down the street on the way back from shopping. She was struggling with three large plastic bags, and had to keep stopping to put them down.

At one point, she happened to glance in the direction of a coffee shop on the corner. Peter was sitting there, with his back to the window. And he wasn’t alone…there was a pretty girl with him. They looked like they were about to kiss.

She sighed, picked up the bags, and hurried home. She didn’t hear the noise of crashing and breaking glass behind her, because she wasn’t paying attention.