A/N: Rated from G to PG-13. Drabbles are usually 100 words on the dot - as they are supposed to be - or around 100. A lot of them were written for challenges issued on livejournal challenge communities. Some were already posted at the forengland community or elsewhere. This collection will be updated infrequently and not necessarily in chronological order – consider it WIP.
Chapter 1: Childhood centredAlec pressed his nose against the cold window. Ice crystals formed on the outside while the window steamed up from his breath on the inside.
Karen walked away from the orphanage, both of her hands held securely by her new parents. She was the fifth child to be adopted over the last eight month. All too often she had been standing beside Alec's bed, pillow in her hands, and claimed there were monsters under her bed.She turned and managed to slip her hand free and wave.
Then they were gone.
And again he was the one left behind, rejected.
Challenge: fond childhood memory at movie100
It felt strange to sit at a table in a Russian house after an offer from a Soviet Colonel to stay for the weekend. On the one hand it made Trevelyan's mission for MI-6 easier, on the other more complicated.
The kitchen door opened and a sweet smell swept Alec away from the here and now.
A pie...Mother's laughter..."Blow, Alec!"...his father's voice...her kiss on his hair...Four candles - their last birthday together.
"Feel at home."
He took a bite and faked a grin. Damn Stalin, damn Old Albion. This could have been his home, either here or there.
Challenge: fond childhood memory at movie100
Glancing at the snow-laden trees, James smiles. The first time he had visited Switzerland had been with his parents.
Snow glittered in the sun, sparkling like a dwarf's treasure laid out beneath the blue sky. His father shook a tree branch above him and laughed as he ruffled James' hair, freeing it from snow.
"Andrew," his mother called, and when his father turned, a snowball hit him squarely in the face. Laughing, his parents wrestled and fell into a snowdrift.
James giggled.
A shot rings through the silence and a bullet scrapes the fir's bark. No time for fond memories now.