Challenge:
1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.
2. Turn your music player on and turn it on random.
3. Write a drabble/ficlet related to each song that plays. You only have the length of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts and stop when it's over.
4. Do five of these and post them.
Author's Note: Okay, so I totally cheated on two of these in that I played the songs twice. Guess which one. Also, anyone who can spot the sorta running motif through the last four totally gets a cookie. :) I hadn't even realized I'd done it until I read it over again after wards.
Happy Reading!
Where I Stood by Missy Higgins
Nate's not sure what he expects to see when he walks out onto the restaurant floor, but it's not this: Andy and Miranda Priestly are playfully feeding one another morsels from a sampler plate. Miranda murmurs something he's too far away to discern, but Andy's laughter rings clear as a bell through the din of chatter and clattering silverware. It is cheerful, unrestrained. He's glad. She deserves all the joy this world has to offer. When she turns back to address Miranda, her smile is all warmth and brightness like the sun. His own automatic smile in reply tastes slightly bitter, and with a start, he realizes that he has been wilting without her. She's happy though, and he no longer has the right to bask in her presence. So he moves past their table without pause, and trudges out solo into the empty night.
5th Caprice by Pagini
The drums play to the beat of her heart.
Thrum.
White horses and dark elderberries sweep the battlefield and war threatens the air like a storm.
Thrum.
Irv stands behind her on a ridiculously ornate dais, a smiling, conniving serpent waiting for her to fail.
Thrum
She knows this will not be easy. Duels never are. But this…
Thrum
Her opponent sweeps forward in a vision of black leather and midnight locks. At the center of the field, Andrea lifts her helm and pins Miranda with her gaze, an abyss of darkness behind her eyes.
Thrum.
This is the first time Miranda's ever felt ambivalent about victory.
This Year's Love by David Grey
Outside, the rain falls in sleets and lighting cuts through the darkness like a scythe. Inside, Andy huddles deeper into the dark confines of the Egyptian cotton coverlet Miranda had insisted they buy. Though the blanket does an adequate job, Andy still feels cold. There's only one person who can warm her, and she's off in Paris; Leaving a vacuum of dead space in her wake. Andy looks past the window into the brewing sky and sighs: Hopefully the storm will pass soon. She misses her sun.
Brand New Day from Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog
Andy storms into Irv Ravitz's office and drops a thick manila envelope with a smack onto his desk. He starts to protest the interruption until he gets a good look at her face. Her smile is sickle-sharp when she tells him in a frighteningly quiet voice to open the package.
Irv does, and when he looks up, there's a pallor that, on a less powerful man, would have indicated panic.
"What do you want?" he asks, his voice clipped.
Andy doesn't miss a beat. "I want a raise. I want a promotion after a year, and I want you to remember I have copies next time the urge to antagonize Miranda strikes you. I think we both know I'm being more than reasonable." Andy bares her teeth again into a sharks' smile, and Irv swallows to moisten his suddenly dry throat.
She's got him by the balls and they both know it.
"Fine," he says.
"Good," Andy replies, "glad we understand each other." Then, with a curt nod,
Irv sinks slowly back into his chair, contemplating the maelstrom left in her wake.
You Can Still Be Free by Savage Garden
"I love you," Andy says, raising a hand to brush through Miranda's hair. It shines like a pearl in the moonlight and Andy's heart hitches in contemplation of her beauty. Even here, naked, Miranda is a primal force: like thunder and lightning; oceans and rage.
"Yes," Miranda says with a small smile of unease. "I know."
The fresh wash of hurt at Miranda's response should be familiar by now. Three years past and still this dual detonation of pain and devotion succeeds in leaving her breathless. Miranda's failure to reply always cuts like a knife. Just a nick, but each nick refuses to heal and she worries that one day, Miranda's silence will bleed her dry.
***
Miranda looks down at her lover; her love; and allows the pain to wrench her into its embrace. Andrea loves her. She knows this as fact. The sun rises, the sun sets, and Andrea loves her.
Also fact: Miranda is not suited to love. Her love is little more than a cage of bright steel and dark stone. Andrea is meant to soar, and she refuses to clip her developing wings.
This is why Andrea can never know that she is everything. Miranda's love is an offer of freedom and the condemnation of self.
