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G-Wing Soup }} Can you fic the alphabet?
coolbyrne
gwing_soup
coolbyrne
Title: In the Lap of the Gods
Author: coolbyrne
Rating: G
Pairing: N/H implied
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em
Word count: 1081
A/N: “Q is for Quiver”.

At risk of underestimating my readers, here is a run-down of the Roman gods mentioned in this fic:
Minerva: Goddess of Wisdom
Cupid: God of Love
Psyche: not a god; a woman Cupid fell madly in love with. His mother hated her.
Venus: Goddess of Love, Cupid’s mother
Bacchus: God of Wine
Mercury: Messenger to the gods
Jupiter: God of All
Aesculapius: God of Health and Medicine
Sol: God of the Sun
Saturn: Protector of the Sower and the Seeds

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coolbyrne
gwing_soup
coolbyrne
Title: Kitchen Help
Author: coolbyrne
Pairing: H/N
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1007
A/N: Someone wrote a fic where a character put their tongue in another character's ear and it squicked me out. So I wanted to write something that made the ear the erotic spot it is, rather than the recipient of an oral wet willie. I didn't even get close with this one! However, it does meet the requirement for the letter "p". “P is for Place.”


--

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coolbyrne
gwing_soup
coolbyrne
Title: A Lure
Author: coolbyrne
Pairing: H/N
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1804
A/N: For the gwing_soup alphabet challenge. “O is for Out”. Over the 1000 word limit by 800. I won’t do it again, I promise!


--



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coolbyrne
gwing_soup
coolbyrne
Somehow, I forgot to post this!


Title: The Letter
Author: coolbyrne
Rating: G
Pairing: N/H implied
POV: Nikki
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em
Word count: 194
Summary: What was in that letter Nikki gave to Helen?
A/N: Written in the Krakow airport. For the gwing_soup alphabet challenge. “K is for Keepsake”.

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gwing_soup
coolbyrne
Title: Wishlist
Author: coolbyrne
Pairing: H/N, Nikki POV
Rating: G
Word Count: 604
A/N: For the gwing_soup alphabet challenge. “N is for normality”.


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gwing_soup
coolbyrne
Title: One Slip
Author: coolbyrne
Pairing: H/N, Nikki POV
Rating: G
Word Count: exactly 100
A/N: For the gwing_soup alphabet challenge. “M is for momentary”. Halfway through! Only another 13 fics to go and almost 4 months to do it. Piece of cake, right? This takes place right after the kiss in “Payback Time”, season one.

--

What’s that Floyd album? ‘A Momentary Lapse of Reason’? Christ, that’s it in one.

You coming into my cell after hours?

You sitting beside me on my shitty bed?

Us, kissing?

‘Lapse’ is a bloody understatement.

Even as the spot beside me grows cold in your absence, I can still feel the warmth of your mouth, the tentative touch of your tongue, the tingle you left on my lips. The feel of your soft body leaning into mine... fuckin’ hell. It was a one-time thing; a momentary lapse. Nothing more. And it will never, ever happen again.

Definitely not.

Definitely.


-end.

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gwing_soup
coolbyrne
Title: A Brief List
Author: coolbyrne
Pairing: though theoretically, it could be any POV, I specifically wrote it thinking it from a Nikki POV.
Rating: R
Word Count: 289
A/N: For the gwing_soup alphabet challenge. “L is for Lust”. You will not find the word “lust” in this fic, at least not in the evident way you’d expect. This fic is an acrostic. Quote by Mason Cooley.


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coolbyrne
gwing_soup
coolbyrne
Title: A Wooden Bench
Author: coolbyrne
Rating: G
Pairing: N/H implied
POV: Nikki
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em
Word count: Exactly 100
Summary: Sometimes it's easy to remember
A/N: I actually wrote this on a wooden bench in Dublin, Ireland. :)

--

Maybe Barbara was onto something with her diary. Sometimes I wish I'd kept one- a diary, a journal, some bits of paper that I could look back on and remember. Problem was, at the time, I didn't want to remember Larkhall. I only wanted to forget. But perhaps I should have written the good times down -us down- before they faded under the unwavering rays of time. But then I look at you, your hand shielding your eyes from the sun, a gentle smile tugging at your lips and it stokes the fires of my memory better than any words.

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gwing_soup
coolbyrne
Title: The Reality of Things
Author: coolbyrne
Pairing: Nikki/Helen
Rating: G
Word Count: 535
A/N: Inspired by G.L.Dartt’s “After Larkhall” series, which I think was one of the first fics to examine what the N/H relationship would really be like in those early days after Nikki’s release. There is an honesty in it that looks beyond the standard “happily ever after” approach. I meant to make this fic longer, but ended up making it a snippet. Maybe one day I’ll revisit it.
Summary: “I” is for “imaginary” Nikki POV


--


It hasn’t been an easy year for us, has it? Completely my fault, no question. That first month, I very nearly kicked you out of bed every night, didn’t I? You must have grown tired of hearing me explain it was because I had gotten used to three years of sleeping alone, curled up on a tiny cot. But you never complained, despite a few threats about me sleeping on the couch. Now, of course, I’ve gone the opposite way and won’t let go of you in bed. I keep waiting to hear that same threat about the couch, but it’s never come.

Do you remember that first night? After a few drinks at Chix, we decided against food and went straight back to your place. But as we approached the steps, I faltered outside your door, the magnitude not only of the moment but of the last four years of my life hitting me at last. You seemed to understand, because you took my hand and led me upstairs to the loo. Running the water, you told me to have a nice wash up and you’d make tea. Five minutes later I was downstairs, washed and in your robe that ridiculously came up above my knee. I had kept waiting for the water to get turned off, but was too embarrassed to tell you as much when you asked what was wrong. With two glasses of wine in your hand, you once again led me upstairs, and this time, ran a bath. A bath! Though not an uncommon thing in Larkhall, I had never indulged; I thought there was something incredibly vulnerable about taking a bath in that environment. And yet there you were, running one as if it meant nothing. But it meant everything. You sat behind me in the huge tub and with your arms and your legs around me, I never felt so safe.

That was a year ago, and here we are, like colts, finally finding our legs underneath us and standing with more strength than we ever thought possible.

I’ve lived this life, you know. In my head. My imaginary world I could retreat to when the nights in Larkhall got unbearably lonely. I’d play out certain scenarios and moments; what I would say, what you would do. I’d try and re-create your scent, the softness of your skin under my fingers, draw your smile with bits and bobs of memory.

It’s when I look across the room at you, my book left forgotten on my lap that I realize how inadequate that imaginary world was –because what you do to my heart can’t be reduced to a simple list of items. I watch you at the dining room table, the newspaper spread out before you, your left hand reaching up in a familiar gesture to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, a small line between your brows forming in response to something that’s caught your attention, and I smile.

You must feel my eyes on you, because you glance up and meet my gaze. “What is it?” you ask with a smile of your own.

“Nothing,” I reply with a slight shake of my head. “Everything.”



-end

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gwing_soup
coolbyrne
Title: A Clean Shot
Author: coolbyrne
Pairing: Nikki/Helen implied
Rating: G
Word Count: 604
A/N: A bit twee right at the end; I wrinkle my nose in sugary distain when I read it, but I think the rest works. I hope it does.
Summary: “H” is for “Hunter” Nikki POV


--


I was never one for seeking out privileges in here. At the end of the day, it’s all the same, innit? Whether we’re on Basic, General or Enhanced, we’re all banged up in this place; though I suppose one could say my opinion comes from a privilege of its own. A “privilege” of being a lifer that got me my own space. I don’t have to sleep with one eye open, worrying about being shivved in the middle of the night for my meagre possessions. I have to laugh at this despite the reality of that particular risk –cons did get stuck on a fairly regular basis –they just wouldn’t get much out of me besides my books.

And yet, as I look down from my newfound perch on Enhanced, I can see the appeal. Looking down from this height, even surrounded by concrete and steel, there’s a certain sense of freedom. There’s also a certain sense of control, if you’re into that sort of thing as well. Certainly Shell Dockley is. I see her lazily bent over the railing, looking down and surveying her kingdom like Queen bloody Victoria. For her, this hierarchy means more than a bigger cell and better duvet. For her, it’s representative of her station in Larkhall –she’s at the top of the food chain and every one below her is, well, beneath her. Her predatory eyes scan for the weak ones and her hunter’s heart coolly takes notes for future “kills”; the eyes take in everyone and don’t miss a thing.

Not for the first time do I recognize the sharp contrast between Dockley and me that goes beyond our physical differences. She has created something resembling a life in Larkhall and I can only dream of a life outside of it. Her position requires her to be interested in the comings and goings of everyone. Me? I’m only interested in one person.

As if summoned by simple thought (I’ll have to try that in the wee hours of the night), I catch a glimpse of you, and lean to appreciate this spot even more. From here I can watch as you stop for a quick laugh with the Julies and a quiet word with Monica. It doesn’t take a map maker to figure out which direction you’re taking and where you’re intending to go. Pleased, I sit back from my blind and wait. Slowly, you begin to appear on the stairs, one step at a time, and when you see me, your smile gets me through another day. It would come as a surprise to everyone but you that I don’t have the nerves of a hunter. I will my heart to slow down and pray the connection between my mouth and brain is still working.

“Enjoying your view?” you ask with a playful grin.

“Very much,” I reply with more aplomb than I thought I could manage. You have the decency not to laugh out at the well-worn double entendre.

“Well, I just wanted to see how you were getting on with your newfound placement.”

I look around. “Yeah, well, it doesn’t have the view of the ocean I had hoped for, but I suppose one can’t have everything.”

You curiously tilt your head. “You don’t think so?” When I return the look with one of my own, you lean in and say, “I’ll bring a nice print next time I come round. Any ocean in particular you’d like?”

I grin like an idiot. No, I’m certainly not the hunter-type. You on the other hand… I wonder if you know how easily you’ve captured my heart?


-end.

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