Tuesday - A Night at the Movies
Apr. 23rd, 2013 04:00 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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comment_ficGood afternoon, everyone! Sorry, I would've been here earlier, but my internet conked out.
The theme for today is “Movie Titles”. In other words, your prompt should be the title of a movie.
Please remember the rules so everyone can have a good time:
No more than five prompts in a row.
No more than three prompts from one fandom at a time.
No spoilers in your prompt until at least one week after the original airing/publication date. If there are spoilers in your fic, warn in bold and leave at least three spaces
Please always use the following format to make it easier on the code monkeys:
Fandom(s), character or pairing, prompt.
And here are a few examples, to get you started!
NCIS, Kate(+/Tony)(+Ensemble) Air Force One
In Plain Sight, Mary+Marshall, The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas
The X-Files, Krycek+Mulder, Aliens
Frasier, Frasier+Niles (or ensemble), A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum
Fullmetal Alchemist, Ed/Winry+Al, Eat, Pray Love
[themtag: Movie Titles]
The theme for today is “Movie Titles”. In other words, your prompt should be the title of a movie.
Please remember the rules so everyone can have a good time:
No more than five prompts in a row.
No more than three prompts from one fandom at a time.
No spoilers in your prompt until at least one week after the original airing/publication date. If there are spoilers in your fic, warn in bold and leave at least three spaces
Please always use the following format to make it easier on the code monkeys:
Fandom(s), character or pairing, prompt.
And here are a few examples, to get you started!
NCIS, Kate(+/Tony)(+Ensemble) Air Force One
In Plain Sight, Mary+Marshall, The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas
The X-Files, Krycek+Mulder, Aliens
Frasier, Frasier+Niles (or ensemble), A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum
Fullmetal Alchemist, Ed/Winry+Al, Eat, Pray Love
[themtag: Movie Titles]
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Date: 2013-04-24 09:35 pm (UTC)That's why, for his brother, Dean has no pride left at all.
"Whatever you can give, I'll take," he rasps at the stranger in the expensive-looking trench coat. If Dean stole it, as he has many things before, it would be worth weeks of food.
The stranger takes Dean's hand and gently turns a bag of clinking coins into his palm, closing Dean's fingers with a gentleness Dean hasn't experienced since his mother died of hunger when he was four years old.
"Anything I can give is yours," the man says, his eyes so soft that Dean has to blink away rare tears. He doesn't need this stranger's pity, he only needs his money. Just because this man saved Sammy's life, doesn't mean Dean should automatically trust every word he says.
"You're not our saviour," Dean shakes his head gruffly, despite stashing the coins into his jacket pocket. He hasn't believed in the goodness of people since he watched men shoot his father dead.
The stranger cocks his head and observes Dean curiously. Finally he lets go of Dean's hand, and Dean feels frustratingly bereft all of a sudden.
"My name is Castiel," the man says, as calm as a lilting melody, "and I will save you and your brother."
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Date: 2013-04-23 11:00 pm (UTC)Fic. Rewrite.
Date: 2013-04-24 11:16 pm (UTC)"You're not afraid," he notes. (He still does not know her name. If he'd even had that detail, he'd have thought twice about intimidating her.) He has run into few women during his travels, but all of them had in common that look of disgust - disgust drenched in fear. Where Pan had not spread his version of the story, Hook had made sure his reputation preceded him.
He hasn't seen a woman smile in his direction in... too long.
No wonder he was drawn to this stranger.
(He doesn't know she's no stranger, remember that.)
"Because of that hook?" Her eyes give his right arm a slow perusal from shoulder to wrist. She doesn't quite smile, but he thinks she might want to. "I've seen bigger."
Behind him, one of his sailors chokes on his drink.
"Well, well..." He coughs. He hasn't coughed for anything less than a lung fever since childhood. "I must say," he says, recovering. "I have not."
This time, her lips quirk into an unwilling grin.
Her identity should have revealed itself right then, he thinks later. But when had he ever had the occasion to watch her smile?
She is still younger than he is, but not young enough to give a roll of eyes and move on. Instead he takes off his hat with a gallant gesture and thrusts it in the arms of the nearest sailor, and strolls toward her confidently.
It takes a lot of confidence to stroll in a seaport tavern full of drunk men.
The woman's eyes brighten with humor. She does not seem to even consider rising and walking away. He takes that as a good sign - then wonders if it's a miracle as he sits down and she doesn't protest. "What are you doing here, ma'am?"
(He should have asked for her name. Shoulda, coulda, woulda...)
"I came to visit an old love." Her eyes harden, just a little. "Got tired of waiting for him to make a move."
He thinks it's a candid answer. Doesn't yet understand everything she's telling him. "Bastard moved on, eh?"
She laughs now. "No. Or perhaps he did. I cannot tell, really." A little shrug. "Turns out I did for sure, anyway. Too little, too late. Now I'm stuck here."
"Too late indeed." He glanced at the window. Sunset has come and gone, and left black-inked skies to keep them company. "And that drove you here in the middle of the night?"
"I'm not afraid of a little darkness."
"But the company, my dear." He looks around in a show of contempt. Never mind that he would have joined them if he hadn't run across this little lady first. "You could have chosen better."
Her sigh is louder than she intends it, and she blushes a little when he catches it. "Story of my life," she mumbles.
He knows about bad choices. In a rare moment of sympathy, he raises his hook and waves it until it catches the waitress's eye. In a few matters, it pays to be so obvious. "Perhaps it's time to rewrite your story," he says.
"Is that what you did?" she asks, eyeing him with an arched eyebrow full of doubt.
"Never said it was a nice story!" His laugh booms in their corner, and her returning smile comes slow, but it does come.
Their drinks arrive, and she drinks her with a welcomed enthusiasm. Then she looks at him straight in the eye, and chuckles to herself. "I did say I wasn't afraid of a little darkness, didn't I?"
He thinks of the stories circulating about him. "Or perhaps more than a little?"
She raises her glass into a toast. "Perhaps."
(When he finds out, he asks her why.)
***
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