I was kinda tired of writing super-serious, emotional heavy stuff one day - so I broke with tradition and decided to try my hand at non-serious fic. I ran out of steam..but rest assured it will continue another day when I'm feeling similarly silly.
PS. I own no one and nothing. No animals were harmed etc etc.
"We're all going...oof,"
Malucci made faces at his attacker, the air knocked out of him by the sudden impact of his seat. He was only getting in the party spirit, no harm in that. It seemed Abby, for one, was not amused.
"We're not in the playground now,"
She shrugged dismissively and turned back to the window. He felt quite insulted. Where was this girls sense of fun? Would her face crack?
"What are you doing anyway? Counting cactuses?"
"Cactii,"
"What?"
He turned to the interference on his left.
"Cactii. The plural of cactus is cactii,"
Carter shook his head as his boisterous colleague who completely ignored his perfectly correct grammar lesson turned back to tease Abby. Again. Man, Malucci could be predictable sometimes. Carter rested his head back and
thought of Mexico. Sun, sand, tequila.....
"No Dave, ignoring you!"
Abby answered.
"Where the hell is everyone's party spirit? This is a holiday not a prison camp,"
"If you're there it might as well be,"
"Gee, thanks,"
"Children. Behave!"
Weaver was still in charge. She had a crutch and she wasn't afraid to use it either. Abby looked petulant and Dave pulled his sombrero over his face, sulking and muttering a
"Yes, Festus,"
Sarkily under his breath.
"One day you're going to say that too loud,"
"And that day will be my funeral, I know,"
He shut up then and closed his eyes. He ignored all around and pretended to sleep.
"Peace at last,"
At the front of the bus, Kovac was trying very hard not to snore too loudly. It wouldn't be polite when you're trying to listen with interest to someone. Just unfortunate his someone had to be Romano. The guy was boring. How long
was it singly possible to talk about one perons? And contrary to your first thoughts, he isn't on his usual favourite topic. Since they left Chicago, Romano had droned endlessly about "the only woman he'll ever love". Lizzie was beautiful. She was also married. And never likely to be interested in a self-obsessed, obnoxious, bald dwarf with frequent misogynist tendencies. Even Kovac had grasped that much.
"..You don't understand, you can't possibly. God put her on this earth to be with me,"
He sounded so pathetic. Luka was fighting an urge to slap him hard and yell
"Snap out of it man,"
Loudly. He was that bored. And they weren't even halfway there yet. He'd be happier chewing his own arm off than being forced to listen to any more.
"Luka, Luka, are you listening to me?"
The Croatian groaned and braced himself for another onslaught.
"Mark, honey, Romanos making eyes at me again,"
She cowered behind her husband.
"Lizzie?"
She faced her husband, batting her eyelashes innocently.
"Get over it,"
"But..."
"You aren't 16 anymore. Get over it,"
Mark wasn't keen on long journeys and even less keen on a holiday to a land where they put worms in their national drink. I mean, ruin a good drink why don't you? His thoughts were suddenly and rudely interrupted by a sudden
judder. The coach shook violently, spluttering along. Romano practically jumped into Kovac's lap, which the dozing Croatian far from appreciated. Carters head bounced off the window, jolting him back into reality. Anspaugh, staggering slightly, grabbed the microphone and addressed the assembled crowd.
"There seems to have been a slight technical difficultly."
The driver tapped his shoulder and whispered something into the older mans ear.
"Oh. O.K. There's been a major technical difficulty. The bus will eventually stop of it's own accord, hold tight until then, when you will disembark calmly and walk away from the coach in an orderly fashion,"
"Yeah right, and I look like the Pope,"
Abby hissed decidely pissed off with this turn of events.
PS. I own no one and nothing. No animals were harmed etc etc.
"We're all going...oof,"
Malucci made faces at his attacker, the air knocked out of him by the sudden impact of his seat. He was only getting in the party spirit, no harm in that. It seemed Abby, for one, was not amused.
"We're not in the playground now,"
She shrugged dismissively and turned back to the window. He felt quite insulted. Where was this girls sense of fun? Would her face crack?
"What are you doing anyway? Counting cactuses?"
"Cactii,"
"What?"
He turned to the interference on his left.
"Cactii. The plural of cactus is cactii,"
Carter shook his head as his boisterous colleague who completely ignored his perfectly correct grammar lesson turned back to tease Abby. Again. Man, Malucci could be predictable sometimes. Carter rested his head back and
thought of Mexico. Sun, sand, tequila.....
"No Dave, ignoring you!"
Abby answered.
"Where the hell is everyone's party spirit? This is a holiday not a prison camp,"
"If you're there it might as well be,"
"Gee, thanks,"
"Children. Behave!"
Weaver was still in charge. She had a crutch and she wasn't afraid to use it either. Abby looked petulant and Dave pulled his sombrero over his face, sulking and muttering a
"Yes, Festus,"
Sarkily under his breath.
"One day you're going to say that too loud,"
"And that day will be my funeral, I know,"
He shut up then and closed his eyes. He ignored all around and pretended to sleep.
"Peace at last,"
At the front of the bus, Kovac was trying very hard not to snore too loudly. It wouldn't be polite when you're trying to listen with interest to someone. Just unfortunate his someone had to be Romano. The guy was boring. How long
was it singly possible to talk about one perons? And contrary to your first thoughts, he isn't on his usual favourite topic. Since they left Chicago, Romano had droned endlessly about "the only woman he'll ever love". Lizzie was beautiful. She was also married. And never likely to be interested in a self-obsessed, obnoxious, bald dwarf with frequent misogynist tendencies. Even Kovac had grasped that much.
"..You don't understand, you can't possibly. God put her on this earth to be with me,"
He sounded so pathetic. Luka was fighting an urge to slap him hard and yell
"Snap out of it man,"
Loudly. He was that bored. And they weren't even halfway there yet. He'd be happier chewing his own arm off than being forced to listen to any more.
"Luka, Luka, are you listening to me?"
The Croatian groaned and braced himself for another onslaught.
"Mark, honey, Romanos making eyes at me again,"
She cowered behind her husband.
"Lizzie?"
She faced her husband, batting her eyelashes innocently.
"Get over it,"
"But..."
"You aren't 16 anymore. Get over it,"
Mark wasn't keen on long journeys and even less keen on a holiday to a land where they put worms in their national drink. I mean, ruin a good drink why don't you? His thoughts were suddenly and rudely interrupted by a sudden
judder. The coach shook violently, spluttering along. Romano practically jumped into Kovac's lap, which the dozing Croatian far from appreciated. Carters head bounced off the window, jolting him back into reality. Anspaugh, staggering slightly, grabbed the microphone and addressed the assembled crowd.
"There seems to have been a slight technical difficultly."
The driver tapped his shoulder and whispered something into the older mans ear.
"Oh. O.K. There's been a major technical difficulty. The bus will eventually stop of it's own accord, hold tight until then, when you will disembark calmly and walk away from the coach in an orderly fashion,"
"Yeah right, and I look like the Pope,"
Abby hissed decidely pissed off with this turn of events.