TITLE: Captain Planet: Shuffle
WORDS: 2678
RATING: PG
SUMMARY:Ten ficlets inspired by ten songs on my iPod. Written with Gi in mind.

NOTES:Choose a fandom, pairing or character. Put your iPod on shuffle, and write a ficlet or drabble inspired by that song. Only write until the song finishes! Do not linger. (I admit I went back and fixed some spelling and grammar issues.) Stop when you've played ten songs and have ten ficlets.

This is a challenge over at cpfanfic on livejournal at the moment. I chose to focus on Gi, though I admit I struggled a lot more with this fandom than I did with my Cold Case shuffle challenge. I think this was a combination of constantly being interrupted as I attempted this one, and getting songs that I don't listen to as frequently. I got a couple of gems here, but did go through a brief stage where each song seemed to give me the same sort of idea.

HEART LIKE A WHEEL: THE CORRS

It was a mistake – she knew that now.

But mistakes were hard to rectify when they were so large and when they had hurt so many people. It was hard to go back from something like, "I love you," and not hearing it in return.

She hadn't known where it had come from, exactly. It had just been something that had built up over time, and she became so used to it being a part of her it was a shock when Kwame hadn't acted happily to such an admission.

I love you.

And it was so hard to learn that something as deep and incredible as love could break someone and hurt so much. Love shouldn't hurt.

But it had. And she couldn't understand why it had happened that way – why it had ended in tears and embarrassment and heartache. It was as though she had been turned upside down and inside out and nothing looked the same anymore. It was all backwards and inverted and that wasn't the way things were meant to be.

I love you.

And he loved her too, he did, but not like that. Not like that.

But it was out there, then, it was out and she couldn't take it back and suddenly he was avoiding her eyes and her touch, even though he had never had a problem taking her hand before, or helping her up into the geo-cruiser or smiling at her without such a guarded expression.

She didn't want it to break them all. She didn't want love to end them. Love, of all things. She didn't want love to end them.

"It's only love," she wanted to say, jokingly. "It's only love."

SHADOWS IN A MIRROR: CHRIS ISAAK

Sometimes it was hard to believe she was on the winning team.

Sometimes she knew she wasn't.

Sometimes she got home and she closed her bedroom door and she sobbed because she was so bone-tired and heartbroken over seeing so much destruction and loss. Sometimes she felt so helpless.

And the failed missions seemed to be more and more, lately, and a lot of the time now she began to think she couldn't keep it up.

A lot of the time she thought the Planeteers were done; that they couldn't keep this up because they were fighting a losing battle.

They were just five people, and it didn't matter what they had on their side – elements and faith and Captain Planet – sometimes it just felt like it was over.

Sometimes it felt useless, and it always broke her heart.

And when she started to think about what this meant, she realised it meant a split, and she realised it meant home – not Hope Island home but home home.

And that made it worse, somehow, because her heart didn't just belong to her anymore. It belonged to Kwame and Wheeler and Linka and Ma-Ti as well.

And parting from them would shatter her. It'd end her.

And sometimes she looked up at herself in her mirror and she told herself to stop being silly. Because it was just a bad day, and bad days would happen to her no matter what career path she took.

"We're not through," she would whisper fiercely.

Sometimes it just seemed so much worse because they had to deal with so much sometimes.

The good times were good but the bad times were an ache she couldn't seem to get rid of.

Sometimes it just got too much.

GLORY DAYS: BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN

"Take it easy, Wheeler!" Linka cried, clutching her hands to her head and looking rather dizzy.

"Hey, I ain't gonna feel this good forever," Wheeler said with an easy grin. He slung his arm around Gi's shoulders. "Want a spin?"

"No thanks," Gi laughed. "I'll get motion sickness."

Wheeler laughed and disappeared back onto the dance floor, seeking a partner to the next song.

"Oh," Linka groaned, clutching her stomach. "I thought I could handle that Yankee and his 'dancing'."

"So did I," Gi admitted.

"That was not dancing," Linka said, leaning against the wall. "That was circling at high speed."

Gi laughed and linked her arm through her friend's. "Need a drink?"

"Water, please," Linka agreed, allowing Gi to lead her through the crowd. Wheeler had taken up prime position in the centre of the dance floor, intent on living the high life for as long as he possibly could. A curvaceous brunette had taken Linka's place, but the Russian girl was still too dizzy to notice she'd been replaced.

"I don't like being thanked with big parties," Gi admitted to Linka over the sound of the next song starting. "I'd prefer to be thanked with promises to cut carbon emissions and to enter recycling programs."

"Da, me too," Linka said, staggering slightly as an enthusiastic young man spun into her. "But Wheeler is right."

Gi gave her a look of surprise.

"For once," Linka added quickly. "These days will not last forever. We should have fun while we are able, Gi."

Gi grinned. "I guess so."

Linka drew a deep breath. "I just wish the high life did not leave me so light-headed."

Gi hid her smile this time, and squeezed Linka's hand as they reached the bar. "I think that was Wheeler, rather than the high life," she said.

POSSIBILITY: LYKKE LI

She'd known him for eighteen hours or so when she heard his footsteps approaching her. She turned rather warily, still too shaken and wired by all that had happened.

But he smiled and asked if she minded if he sat beside her, and she found herself saying no, even though she had craved solitude and the sound of the ocean washing in.

They small-talked. About such big things.

Planeteers. Neither of them really knew what it meant. Their first day had been a hard lesson that neither of them felt they had properly learned yet.

And Kwame traced his finger through the moonlit sand and admitted he was afraid that what he had left behind would be the only legacy he would achieve. That withered crops and disappeared woodlands would be all he ever got.

And he confessed he didn't want that, and he seemed very, very sad.

And Gi suddenly felt the same fear, because she felt that they were standing on the precipice of something so entirely huge. She didn't want to miss whatever chance this was. They had a chance to take charge of something as big as Earth itself, and the weight of responsibility and excitement grew up inside her.

And fear. Because she knew that if they blew it, it'd cost them so much more than what they'd left behind.

It'd cost them what they had ahead, too. Home wouldn't hold the same disappointment, if they messed this up. It'd hold more disappointment; more ruin. It'd hold the sad echo of what if.

She looked at Kwame very seriously, this young man she'd known for hours only, and she told him she didn't want this to be all of it. She wanted tomorrow, and the day after, and she wanted to build something.

And he smiled and said he did too, and they reached an understanding on the beach that first night.

An understanding of greater things to come.

SHE CALLED UP: CROWDED HOUSE

Whenever Gaia called, the Planeteers went running. No questions asked.

No real desire to ask questions, either. At least, not in the sense of questioning why they had to do these things. No questions that equalled, "Why can't someone else do it, just this once?"

The Planeteers knew their duties and they knew the consequences of not doing those duties. And it wasn't so bad, really.

Now and then they'd groan, but it never lasted long. Because most of the time they enjoyed their duties. They enjoyed being Planeteers.

It was sort of fun, saving the world.

And sometimes Gaia would call and the images and duties would cause heartache and incredible sadness. And sometimes, even when the Planeteers tried their best, they didn't win.

But it didn't change their desire to try.

When Gaia called, the Planeteers went running.

SANTA MONICA DREAM: ANGUS AND JULIA STONE

She thinks of him a lot these days, and she's not sure why. It's been nearly three years since she saw him.

She thinks of him more often than she thinks of the others and she talks to him less. Somehow it's more painful, talking to him.

When he does call – because it's always him to make the effort, not her, no matter how much she wants to – they small-talk.

He's still not married.

She's close, but she doesn't tell him that. She tells him that they took the boat out the previous afternoon. She doesn't tell him that the smell of the sea reminds her of him.

She tells him she still swims and she still tries to research everything under the surface of that wide blue ocean. She doesn't tell him that the vastness of it makes her sad now, because it reminds her of the distance between them.

He asked her once if she missed the Planeteers, and she responded with, "Of course."

And sometimes she wishes she'd lied, because in a way that would be easier. To pretend that there had been no split. To pretend there is no distance.

Sometimes she half-dials his number, but the thought of hearing his voice makes her feel like she's cheating.

And she doesn't know why.

He's not married, but he has someone. And she tells herself that the someone is not her, and that she should just leave things the way they are now.

But it feels like she's hovering between somewhere and nowhere; like she's lost without anchor.

Kwame had always been her anchor; she just hadn't realised until she'd set herself adrift without him.

He has someone now, and it's not her. And she thinks that's why she never calls. She thinks that's why she talks of the sea instead of something real.

Something real would be, "I love you, Kwame."

BIRD ON A WIRE: SARAH BLASKO

It hadn't been Kwame's fault.

Well, Gi didn't know that for sure. But she took his side, because he looked so utterly broken and miserable.

She didn't know how to help. Wheeler had taken to calling Georgie every name under the sun. Linka had told him to shut up and she'd helped Kwame by distracting Wheeler.

Ma-Ti had offered a smile and words that he was there if Kwame needed to talk.

And Gi sat beside him and didn't know if she should stay or go.

"You okay?" she asked awkwardly, and of course he wasn't, because break ups rarely end with people being okay.

He said yes, anyway. And he smiled at her.

She shrugged with an awkward smile and leaned her cheek against his upper arm. "It's hard to be in a relationship when Hope Island is your home and being a Planeteer is your job," she said.

"Yes," he agreed.

And he said that Hope Island had actually made him feel quite all right, once he'd returned there with no Georgie attached to him.

Gi listened without really understanding, and he saw the puzzlement in her eyes.

"I think I would rather live here and be a Planeteer than have Georgie," he explained. "And thinking that makes me feel stronger again."

"Oh," she said, leaning her cheek against his arm again. "Good."

HOME: SHE AND HIM

The sea was smooth as glass, and silvery fish darted in and out of the shadows below the jetty. Gi was stretched out on her stomach, her chin in her hands, watching them flock in and out of the sun.

"Should I bring you a rod?" Kwame enquired, his shadow falling across the Water Planeteer.

She laughed and squinted up at him. "I don't think there's much of a meal in any of those fish."

He grinned and sat beside her, and she scrambled up to sit beside him properly, the smile caused by his arrival still lingering on her face.

The sky was wide and blue and not a trace of a cloud was to be seen.

"I love home on days like this," Gi sighed, leaning back on her hands and lifting her face towards the sun. She closed her eyes against its warmth. "I love travelling and seeing the world, but you can't beat Hope Island on a sunny day."

Kwame murmured his agreement, and when Gi opened her eyes again she found him smiling at her.

"What?" she asked self-consciously.

"Nothing," Kwame said innocently, though his smile didn't disappear. "I was just thinking the same thing. It is hard to get better than home, sometimes."

"Yeah," Gi sighed, kicking her legs slowly above the water. "Home is where the heart lies."

Kwame smiled again and leaned back on his hands, matching Gi's posture. "I suppose."

She looked sideways at him.

They were both sharing the same secretive smile, now, and while Gi wasn't entirely sure what it meant, she knew that they were both very happy in that moment.

CARELESS: PAUL KELLY

"Give that to me," Gi said gently.

Wheeler looked at her for a long time before he sighed and handed the half-empty bottle over to her.

She frowned down at it. "Go and wash your face," she said. "I'll get you a drink of water."

He gave her half a smile as he staggered to the bathroom. She looked around the cramped apartment with a heavy heart.

"Why'd you disappear like that?" she called after him after a moment.

"I don't know," was the answer she received, and it was half-mumbled and full of shame.

"It doesn't matter, anyway," Gi said authoritatively, guiding him to the couch when he came back. She handed him a tall glass of fresh water. "Drink," she ordered him.

He glanced at the half-empty bottle of gin on the coffee table. "I have been," he admitted, downing the water in strong swallows.

Gi sat beside him and rested her head against his shoulder. "You're coming home now, right?"

"If you want me to," he whispered. "I've sort of been pretending I'm alone. It makes it easier to drink without feeling guilty."

"Well, you're not alone," Gi said firmly. "We're still here, and we want you back. So get yourself together."

He kissed the top of her head and sighed.

COMING HOME TO ME: PATTY GRIFFIN

It wasn't always a team effort.

Sometimes the Planeteers went separate ways and fought separate battles. And these battles were always harder, because they were alone. There were not shared burdens or secret smiles or helping hands. There were long days, weary hours, and loneliness.

Whenever Gi landed back on Hope Island, alone, it always seemed to be at dark. She had become used to the silhouettes of the palm trees against the starry sky, and she had almost forgotten the sight of the beach in daylight hours.

On these nights she always passed by her own hut, her feet already bare and her overnight bag already abandoned. The need for a shower and for sleep were secondary to the desire to crawl into bed beside an already-slumbering body.

She'd slide between the sheets beside him and sometimes he'd wake, but more often he wouldn't because he'd be similarly exhausted. So she'd pull his arm over her waist and close her eyes, feeling found and whole at last.

Sometimes being a Planeteer meant you had lonely days.

But so long as she had Kwame to come home to, Gi figured she could deal with it.