ficlet. untitled. maturin, blakeney. 150 words.

[untitled] - maturin, blakeney for mcee

Stephen has never spoken about what happened at Port Mahon, not with those who rescued him from it, not even with Jack. He is nothing if not self-reliant, and he sees this in Blakeney now, taking up the pen with his left hand, silent and determined.

He will improve with practice, and so Stephen, who has seen the lad's eyes brighten with any talk of birds and beasts, invents tasks. Blakeney's hand strengthens through labels and notes, and his spirit strengthens a bit as well. It is wonderful what youth will speak of when they need not look you in the eye.

It is rather like having a younger brother, Stephen supposes, though his own childhood had held nothing so consistent. For now, though, he will be glad of the companionship, the infusion of life, and the general camaraderie that leads to jests which will forever baffle their Captain.

drabble. last orders. lister, seamus

[last orders] - lister, seamus for frulie
yes. that would be red dwarf and harry potter. prompt was curry. in related news, julie scares me a lot.

Seamus never ceases to be amazed at the stories one hears in a Muggle pub. The bloke next to him tells one about a mutant cat, and Seamus, duly impressed, buys him a pint. By the end of the evening they're inseparable, stumbling into the street arm in arm, searching for takeaway curry.

"Dave," the man introduces himself as they make their way up to his flat, but all the household charms in the world won't make that place suitable for wizard habitation, so Seamus Disapparates while Dave's in the loo, confident that alcohol consumption is an effective memory modifier.