Discworld Music Meme
I saw that this has been done (fantastically!) by others and thought what a great idea it is! I don't think I'm remotely doing the idea justice, but as it's my first Discworld fic attempt, please be gentle! I'm not sure i'm happy with what i've written, but i'm posting according to the rules
I have tried to adhere to the rules as far as I possibly could. The times when I could not listen to a song and write uninterrupted, I made sure that the fic was no longer than a drabble and kept always to the first draft of whatever I'd written.
Rules:
oo1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.
oo2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle.
oo3. Write a drabble related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over. No lingering afterwards!
oo4. Do ten of these, then post them.
OK, fic information:
Fandom: Terry Pratchett's Discworld.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. But imitation is the sincerest form of flattery!
Pairing: Vimes/Sybil. Because they rock!
Rating: Insinuations, nothing too graphic. They don't have time!
Garbage – Bleed Like Me
Sybil's secret pain.
Despite her cheerful countenance and no-nonsense attitude, in her heart of hearts Sybil was lonely. Desperately lonely. Dragons were lovely little chaps but they couldn't fill that part of her heart she wanted to give to a lover, a husband. She had imagined flowers, an aristocratic courtship, very proper and dignified. She did not expect that the man who would steal her heart to be an embittered mass of bad manners marinated in alcohol, and she certainly wouldn't expect that she wouldn't have it any other way. Until that day came, Sybil slipped her mask of gung-ho cheeriness firmly in place.
Roxette – Spending My Time
Vimes falls….
Vimes didn't know what was wrong with him. He wasn't hungry, couldn't concentrate, was always in a perpetually bad mood. Well, he was anyway, but this was different. The men knew the answer of course, they knew who was responsible. He didn't know why it was so important to see her, even if he was tongue-tied and his heart raced like a chipmunk on speed. One thing he did know was that she was so far out of his league as to be in a different country. And yet, and yet, he watched and waited and couldn't explain what the battered, fragile organ in his chest was trying to tell him.
Pet Shop Boys – Left To My Own Devices
Vimes reflects.
Sam Vimes had never had the luxury of choice. Growing up on Cockbill St you got what you were given and were thankful. Failing that, you learned to fight harder and nastier than anyone else just to survive. Joining the Watch was something he did through lack of alternatives. On one hand it was a uniform and a way of life, admittedly it was different then, more people for a start. Not the unmitigated laughing stock it became until Carrot showed up.
"Sam?" Sybil's voice floated through to the bedroom where Vimes was lying in bed lost in thought.
His life may have been full of regrets and bitter experiences, but Sybil was not one of them. Vimes smiled.
The Rolling Stones – Beast Of Burden
Sybil's private song.
She really couldn't blame anyone but herself. She had known what Vimes was like well before their courtship became common knowledge.
Love me, don't leave me!
Despite being a Lady, a high-bred woman of society, in matters of the heart Sybil was not au fait. She wondered what Vimes was looking for. Someone so dysfunctional must need something.
Look at me!
A comfort? A nurse? A mother? Sybil knew she couldn't be that person.
She loved him desperately, but he had to love her too.
Watching him trudge up her drive, Sybil's heart swelled with hope.
The Charlatans – Blackened Blue Eyes
Vimes' barely hoped for second chance…
Life screwed him over all the time. Love didn't happen to men like him, the best he could hope for was a cheaply bought hour of fake affection, satisfying only the physical needs of his body. Life didn't give gifts to men like Vimes. Life dragged him into the gutter, kicked him when he was down and kept him just sober enough to know what was happening. Why did she want to see him? What could he offer her? As his tortured brain balked at the situation, Sybil's soft hand slipped into his and her shy smile said more than a thousand words ever could.
The Thrills – Big Sur
Sometimes it's good to just spend time with the one you love.
Vimes loved seeing Sybil laugh. He loved it even more when she looked at him that way – the way that said he was the only one, a look of adoration. He hadn't received that look very much lately, and he knew it was because he was always at work. That morning he had woken up with a plan for his wife. He had asked the kitchen staff (secretly) to make a picnic hamper, and he ensured the carriage was waiting. After breakfast, he had taken her arm and walked out of the front door with her.
She turned in surprise as she saw the hamper and carriage, her mouth forming a surprised "O".
"We're going out for the day," he murmured, pulling her close. "Just me and you."
Her smile made it all worthwhile. He made a mental note to thank Fred. Just occasionally he got things right.
Framing Hanley – Lollipop
Vimes sees a new side to Sybil.
Vimes had been surprised enough when their relationship moved onto being sexual and he discovered just how uninhibited she could be. What floored him again was the day she had been lying in wait for him to return from work. It had been a dreadful day, long and arduous with nothing resolved. He nearly jumped out of his skin when she had pounced on him as soon as the front door shut. Propelling him towards the bedroom with a series of small shoves (not inconsequential considering Lady Ramkin's build) she had knocked him flat onto the bed and tore into him. The only coherent thought to run through his lust-fogged brain was 'Ye Gods, what a woman!"
Blondie – What I Heard
Sybil finds her Society friends are not so friendly.
Sybil wandered elegantly through Lord Rust's latest soiree, nodding 'hello' to various acquaintances as she passed. Stopping by the buffet she inspected the nibbles, pausing as she heard her name. Glancing surreptitiously behind her, she saw a group of ladies, headed by Lady Rust and Lady Selachii, with their heads bent together.
"Of course, Sybil's lost it completely, poor dear," Lady Selachii lamented as she finished off her drink.
Lady Rust sniggered. "Ronnie told me she's desperate," she sneered nastily. "At her age, she'll take anything. No class," she imperiously beckoned a waiter closer and relieved him of two more drinks.
"That jumped up toerag Vimes she's always with, gold digger pure and simple." Lady Selachii agreed, prompting murmurs of assent from the eager ladies of Ankh-Morpork society.
Drawing herself up, Sybil turned regally from the buffet table.
Although not a nasty woman by nature, a bolt of malicious pleasure shot through her as she made eye contact with a shocked and embarrassed Lady Rust.
Garbage – You look So Fine
Vimes finds himself daydreaming at the most inopportune moments.
That dress, the frilly neck thingy, he hadn't been able to take his eyes off it. It seemed to frame her cleavage just so... When she laughed interesting parts of her moved, electrifying him. Her complete self assurances and confidence rebuilt his battered soul. The softness of her hand, the scent of her perfume and the ever present chemical smell of dragons, combined to send him into dizzy intoxication. The tentative kiss on the cheek last night made his brain melt...
"Sir?" Carrot leaned forward.
"Sir?"
"Hmmmmm?"
New Order – Bizarre Love Triangle
Vimes hides from the truth.
Vimes picked up an orange juice and stared stonily straight ahead. Gods he hated these things, but as Captain of the Watch it conferred upon him automatic invite to a number of civil events. Vetinari had been most insistent about that. He had been surreptitiously watching Lady Ramkin move around the room, although he refused to examine that thought in any detail. The tension in his stomach as Lord Rust appeared and stood just too damned close in Vimes opinion, was indigestion pure and simple. The grinding of his teeth as another miscellaneous noble kissed her cheek was reflex, nothing more. That his glass of orange juice shattered under his clenched fist as Lord Something-or-other swept her onto the dancefloor with his hand perilously low on her back, was just coincidence. It didn't bother him. Really, it didn't.
Comments would be appreciated!