Day 10 On the tenth day of christmas, my true love sent to me Ten journeys
GIFT for robert_frogg Getbackers Ban/Ginji PG 23 words
“You’re driving too fast.”
“Ban Midou never drives too fast.”
CRASH
“Don’t say anything.” Ban glared at Ginji.
“You were driving too fast.”
Getbackers Ban/Ginji PG 85 words
“You’re going on holiday?”
“Yes,” said Ginji stubbornly. “That’s what people do, isn’t it? They take holidays.”
“But…”
“You always say but, whenever I have an idea.”
“I do not.”
“Do too.”
“Don’t. And anyway…”
“What?”
“People go on holiday when they have the time to go on holiday. They go on holiday when they don’t need to work. Most of all, rich people go on holiday. There is a problem here.”
“Oh.” Ginji’s voice was quiet. “Ban-chan…”
“What?”
“You might be right. This time.”
Chalet School Nancy/Kathy PG 173 words
The summer evening was balmy and pleasant. The sun still shone in the sky, but with a less oppressive heat than during the long, hot afternoon. Nancy looked across the crowded staffroom at her friend and pulled herself heavily to her feet.
“Come for a walk, Kathy.”
Kathy Ferrars sniled up at her tall friend.
“That sounds lovely.”
The two set off along Nancy’s pet walk. Kathy had traversed it many times before with Miss Wilmot, but never had she known her so quiet.
“Nancy, what’s wrong?”
Nancy forced a smile.
“Nothing. Have you walked this way with Dr Donaldson?”
“No. Why?”
“His attentions… have been marked recently.”
Kathy blushed.
“Yes.”
“I couldn’t help wondering if – well, if he’d asked you.”
Kathy came to a halt, suddenly.
“Yes, he has.”
“Oh.”
Kathy’s eyes met Nancy’s.
“But I said no.”
“Oh!” Nancy fought to keep the pleasure from her voice. “But why?”
Kathy smiled, her hand reaching for Nancy’s.
“Because of you,” she said quietly; and hand in hand they continued their summer walk.
Again, written for sangerin Chalet School Robin Humphries G 241 words
Robin had always known where her future lay. To her, God was not a vague idea but a close personal friend; someone to turn to in her happiest and in her saddest moments. To share everything with; the best best friend there could be. She grew up a content, obedient child because she lived at all times with this certainty.
It was her late teens before the doubts arrived. Not about God – no, never about Him. But about herself; what she ought to do with her life. Whether by dedicating herself to God, she would be letting down her human friends. Joey – not just a friend but the sister that Rob had never had – surely had some claim on her. Every time she heard her sister say “Thank goodness for you, Rob. I don’t know how I’d cope without you;” her doubts grew. When Madge gratefully told her “I’m glad you’re with Jo. It means I don’t need to worry about her;” those doubts multiplied again.
University. Settlement work. Anything to keep her occupied but within touch of those who loved her. But in the end it made no difference. God had Called her, and she couldn’t help but answer.
The day she took her vows, with the support of everyone she loved; the day she walked firmly down the path – not that she’d chosen, but which had chosen her – to her future, that day was the happiest of her life.
GIFT FOR snapetoy Swallows and Amazons/The Big Six Arthur Ransome Dorothea and Tom G
“Dot!”
The blonde woman looked up in surprise. It was years since she’d heard that name. Ever since university, she’d been known by friends and critics alike as Thea Callum.
“It’s… Why, is it really – Tom?”
Tom Dudgeon, himself looking very different from her memory of him, grinned.
“The same,” he acknowledged.
There was a silence as both remembered the times they’d spent together on the Norfolk Broads, bird-watching and sailing. Tom spoke again.
“I saw your name in the paper, saw you were doing a book signing. I thought it might be you. Then I read the title of your latest and…”
“You were sure.” Thea smiled. “I was tempted – very tempted – to call the book ‘The Outlaw of the Broads’ – remember? But in the end… I hope you don’t mind, Tom… In the end it could have no other title.”
They both gazed down at the book in front of her: a children’s story about boating and one boy’s determined effort to save a bird’s nest from destruction.
Coot Club, by Thea Callum.
Swallows and Amazons/Winter Holiday (Arthur Ransome) Susan, Dorothea G 369 words
“Susan? Susan Walker?” There was sheer disbelief in the other woman’s voice.
“Susan Langley now, you’ll find,” Susan said lazily, sipping at the cocktail she held elegantly in her left hand.
Dorothea started at her childhood friend. That left hand was almost invisible beneath the jewels on the fingers and the (solid gold, Dot was sure) bracelets adorning her wrist. The red dress Susan was wearing was… Dorothea struggled with her descriptive powers… well, it was handsome, of course, but daring – almost shocking - and not at all reminiscent of the girl she had once known.
“It’s nice to see you again,” she said weakly. “How are your family? Are they well?”
“I expect so.” Susan’s tone was bored. “You mean John, Titty and Roger, I suppose? I don’t see a lot of them these days. Dear, dull John is in the Navy. I think I scandalise him. Roger is shaming the rest of the family by working as a common mechanic; and Titty is looking after the ageing parents. So virtuous.” She stifled a yawn.
“But…”
Dorothea didn’t know where to start. When had sensible, almost Native, Susan begun this incredible transformation into a rich and (if one were to be honest) alcoholic socialite? And how could she possibly ask?
“And you?” Susan said with a vague attempt at politeness. “Didn’t you have a brother?”
“Dick.” Dot smiled. “He’s a research scientist at Cambridge. He’s much the same, even now.”
“Oh dear!” Susan sounded as if she could think of nothing worse. “And you?”
“Wife and mother is enough job for me.”
Susan positively recoiled.
“You have children?”
“Don’t you?”
“Thank heavens, no. I had my fill of running round after kids when I was young. No, I’m out to enjoy myself now.”
Dorothea wasn’t sure whether she would actually have told Susan that the other woman’s idea of a good time struck her more as a nightmare, but it didn’t matter. Susan had finished with her – and finished her drink, more importantly – and was heading back towards the bar and more congenial company than it appeared that Dorothea was these days.
“Never go back,” Dorothea murmured to herself, as she watched her erstwhile friend with fascinated, horrified eyes.
Saddler’s Wells Jon/Vicki PG 69 words
“How did you know, even back then?” Vicki Craymore looked at her new husband, almost serious for once.
“Know what?” Jon demanded.
“About me… about us?”
Jon grinned.
“I didn’t. It’s like everything else, isn’t it? You just shut your eyes and hope for the best…”
Yet strangely, it was moments like these – not the loving, gentle interludes - that made Vicki absolutely certain she’d married the right man.
Saddler’s Wells Caroline/Veronica PG 229 words
I didn’t want to be a ballet dancer. Well, that’s not quite true. I mean, that wasn’t just what I wanted. I wanted to be Veronica. Ever since the day she came to live with us (wearing a dress that horrified Mummy’s sense of appropriacy) I was fascinated by her. She was small and slim; artistic and temperamental. I could watch her for hours doing the most mundane things: she made them look beautiful with her innate grace. I was eleven years old and in love.
Mummy was scandalised when I said I wanted to dance. She couldn’t help it – it clearly brought some kind of immorality to mind. Nice girls just Didn’t Do That Sort Of Thing in her day. But I think she’d have been more scandalised still if she’d known the truth – that Veronica obsessed my every waking moment. Poor mummy: she had lived with shocks enough without that.
Well, Mummy never did find out. Veronica married Sebastian; I failed at ballet but became – but you know all that.
I still feel a tiny pang when I see her – which is fairly often, even now. But I understand the truth. Not everyone gets everything they want. And I’m happy, with Angelo and the dancing. It might not be Veronica; it might not be ballet – but it’s not too bad. I never was made for tragedy, anyway.
Harry Potter Harry/Ginny, Harry/Draco, implied Ginny/Luna PG
“So, Dad, run that past me once more. You started Hogwarts disliking him; you positively hated him for most of your school life; you married Mum and were wife her for ages before she went to live with Luna – but now you’re telling us that you want to marry Scorpius’s Dad?
Harry blushed and grimaced.
“Not quite how I’d have put it, Jamie, but yes, I suppose that sums it up.” He glanced across at Draco and smiled. “You could say it’s been quite a journey…”
Bill caught Severus’s glance at him as they sat alone in the kitchen. The war was over, but too many things remained to remind them of what had passed.
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he offered lazily.
“I have no scars,” Severus replied, looking away.
“Don’t you?” asked Bill.
He reached across the table and put his hand over Severus’s. Severus’s hand twitched, as if he were going to pull it away; then lay still under the warmth of the younger man’s.
“No scars at all, Severus?” he asked again.
“Or perhaps too many to count;” and Severus’s voice was low and sad.