"Drabbles" are short bits of writing limited to just one hundred words, so these are all supposed to be short bits. Drabbles are quick scenes, shared dialogue, or character sketches done in a small burst of writing fervor, making them excellent writing practice, not that it's helped me much. Ergo, everything posted here is supposed to be brief and to the point; brevity is the only necessity in writing a drabble. I've also checked FF.N's rules and drabbles in no way break them.

So. No reporting. Now go and read my crummy writing. ;p

Most of these were originally posted at the Livejournal.com community AF100. Go check it out.

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Pesci e Fiore

Title: It means "Fish and Flower," supposedly.
Finished: August 21st, 2003.
Summary: There are reasons why Pesci e Fiore does a such roaring trade in this part of the country. Its food is not one of them.
Characters/Pairings: Artemis/Juliet, which surprised me greatly.
Word count: 212. Just one hundred? Bah!
Ramblings: For Jude, because I want to have his babies. Why isn't there an official Jude fanclub yet? Also, I can't believe that at some point in my life I wrote het and that this was it. Oy.

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Artemis stares down at the cold lump of french fries lying dead in his plate with intense distaste. "You expect me to eat this wretched grease- swabbed excuse for a potato?"

Juliet clucks her tongue disapprovingly, as though she has actually got the gall to remind Artemis of date etiquette, and hands him a large and several decades old bottle of fancy catsup. "Here, just try it with this. The food here really grows on you after the first few times."

Artemis snorts loudly and resists the urge to say that the food probably does grow on you, but more like a fungus than anything else. He swallows his pride - for dating a Butler requires the ability to let one's self be easily dominated - and turns the catsup encrusted bottle upside down, hoping against hope that it'll drown out the horrible taste of his "meal."

Red goes everywhere. Everything from his tie to his shoelaces is covered in ketchup. Artemis glares at Juliet, almost livid at her for having the nerve to laugh at him, and plops down the now soaked bouquet of roses he was going to hand off to her at the end of their dinner on to the table.

"Here," he says evenly, "I'm sure they'll taste especially nice now."

Juliet snorts even louder.

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Ah ha ha. Sooo bad.