'cuz I can...
Apr. 28th, 2005 10:05 amThanks to
dethorats for reminding me about Miss Goldenweek. ^_^
Title: Artistic gifts
Rating: G
Pairing: None
Topic: Late, but for 'Body Art'
Word Count: 266
A year and two months after the fall of Baroque works, and Mr. 3 was still moping. By then, he had more than healed physically from the various wounds he incurred, both in alabaster, and little garden- but his ego was still bruised, and it showed in his attitude.
For some reason, unknown to any but herself, Miss Goldenweek had stuck with him through it all. It may have been some odd sense of loyalty, or just that the companionship had become normal for her- Mr. 3 never stopped to ask. For all he know, she thought they were still on a mission.
Regardless, because of this, it was no surprise when a cup of tea appeared at his elbow, sugar and spoon arranged neatly on the saucer. It DID, however, surprise him that a small, delicate pastry accompanied it.
She smiled up at him expectantly. "Having a good day?"
An eyebrow twitched. "Why would it be good? We're still wanted by the Marines and we've got nowhere to go now."
"Oh." Crestfallen, she pouted slightly for a moment, then shuffled out of the room.
A few moments later, he heard the distinct- if faint, sound of a brush mixing paint. It didn't occur to him what that meant, until it was too late. He felt a quick, moist pressure on the back of his neck, and in the split second before the effects claimed him, he knew what had happened; then it didn't matter anymore.
It was the best he'd felt in over a year.
Miss Goldenweek studied her work, and smiled slightly.
"Happy birthday."
Title: Artistic gifts
Rating: G
Pairing: None
Topic: Late, but for 'Body Art'
Word Count: 266
A year and two months after the fall of Baroque works, and Mr. 3 was still moping. By then, he had more than healed physically from the various wounds he incurred, both in alabaster, and little garden- but his ego was still bruised, and it showed in his attitude.
For some reason, unknown to any but herself, Miss Goldenweek had stuck with him through it all. It may have been some odd sense of loyalty, or just that the companionship had become normal for her- Mr. 3 never stopped to ask. For all he know, she thought they were still on a mission.
Regardless, because of this, it was no surprise when a cup of tea appeared at his elbow, sugar and spoon arranged neatly on the saucer. It DID, however, surprise him that a small, delicate pastry accompanied it.
She smiled up at him expectantly. "Having a good day?"
An eyebrow twitched. "Why would it be good? We're still wanted by the Marines and we've got nowhere to go now."
"Oh." Crestfallen, she pouted slightly for a moment, then shuffled out of the room.
A few moments later, he heard the distinct- if faint, sound of a brush mixing paint. It didn't occur to him what that meant, until it was too late. He felt a quick, moist pressure on the back of his neck, and in the split second before the effects claimed him, he knew what had happened; then it didn't matter anymore.
It was the best he'd felt in over a year.
Miss Goldenweek studied her work, and smiled slightly.
"Happy birthday."
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Date: 2005-04-28 02:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-28 02:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-28 02:15 pm (UTC)Awwwww, that was cute and sweet!
no subject
Date: 2005-04-28 02:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-28 08:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-30 02:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-28 10:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-28 11:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-30 02:47 pm (UTC)*points to icon*
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Date: 2005-04-29 01:28 am (UTC)