The fic:

Here's the deal: This story can be anything you want it to be. Each chapter will be a different one-shot story for Little Women. You say what you want me to write about, and I'll do it. All characters from all three books in the Little Women series are open, and any situation, no matter how bizarre or outside my usual comfort zone. I can also put in spin-offs and sequel bits for any fic that I've currently completed (With the exception of 7 Unlived Stories for Beth March. For the couple of weeks or so anyway, but I'll probably open that one up later.). With any luck, this can be some fun for all involved.

And, since I feel bad posting something like this without offering a fic, I'll start by posting a little bit of Jo and Laurie's incredibly AU married life, since everyone always asks me to write about the two of them being happily married, and I never do.

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Jo had been looking forward to Amy's visit for weeks. She had often heard it said that "absence makes the heart grow fonder" and it seemed in this case that time had proven the idiom true. Something about Amy staying in England with her husband Fred for years on end, while Jo spent the majority of her time in Concord with her own husband made it easy for Jo to forget the way Amy's prim little habits had once driver her up the wall, and make her long only to see all of her family together once more.

"You did say it was Amy coming today, didn't you Jo?" Laurie asked, his voice muffled in a way that made Jo smile. His head was beneath the couch, and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness there, he could just make out the forest of dust-bunnies that he had been sent, like a domestic knight in shining armor, to vanquish.

"Yes, by eight o'clock," said Jo. She was busy rearranging a certain well-loved and chaotic bookshelf, having taken crucial matters into her own hands, while giving Laurie the drudgery.

"Right, eight o'clock. And it's definitely Amy."

Jo stopped what she was doing, and sat down on the couch, right above Laurie's protruding legs.

"Yes…" he said slowly, feeling strangely as if she were talking to his feet.

"And by Amy, you mean your sister, Amy Vaughn, formally Amy March, who used to paint her shoes to match her dresses, has a penchant for all things artistic, and once threw your story into the fire in a fit of spite?"

She gave him a good rap on the thigh, rather enjoying his surprise, for he hadn't been able to see it coming.

"Don't remind me, I was such a beast to her after that - but hurry up and tell me what you're on about."

Laurie slid out for under the couch, brandishing his feather-duster rather close to her face as he sat up to look at her.

"Well, with all the cleaning you're making me do, you'd think we're preparing for the arrival of the queen. Do you really think Amy is likely to look under our couch? From the state of it, clearly we've managed to go several years without doing so."

Jo snorted, for she was imagining Amy dressed in royal finery, and finding it quite easy, all things considered.

"Honestly, I was just trying to get you out of the way," Jo said. "I do want to give her a reasonably nice homecoming, and how am I to get anything ready with you hanging off me constantly?"

"She and Fred are going to be staying with us for the next month," Laurie pointed out, running his hand down her calf, for it was temptingly close to him just then. "And if I am to only have another few hours with you all to myself, you can hardly blame me for taking them."

"When whatever we've got growing under the sofa comes to life and takes a bite out of Amy's dainty shoes, I will blame you," Jo warned.

Laurie could hear the laughter in her voice, and thinking it a good omen, kept his mouth shut and looked up at her with her most winning expression. Jo sighed, as if quite exasperated.

"What time is it?" She asked.

"I'd say it's about noon." He reached for her arm, and did his best to tug her to the floor beside him.

"You could just come up here, you know," Jo pointed out, for when she did not immediately follow his lead, Laurie made as if he would wrestle her to the floor.

"Thank you," he said, with her characteristic eagerness, "I think that I will."

His arm around her and a few kisses down her neck settled the matter.

.