Point

:D Hello. This will be a thread where I consolidate my drabbles and short stories with the challenges posted on alias500, an LJ community for fics between 100 - 500 words long. Pairings are aplenty so this isn't in specific ship forums; pairings also range from S/V to Snark (teehee. Nadia/Sark) to Nadia/Will, just to name a few; and one character shorts. To say the least, this is my first set of drabbles - I don't usually dabble in them, but I was intrigued.

Enjoy!

These are PG-13 to be on the safe side, and spoilers up to Horizon for a few. All four drabbles this time round are exactly 100 words.

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Challenge: Incorporate Miami Vice episodic titles into the fic.

THE MAZE
By Jalyn/secretlives

He feels like a rat running through the maze, meeting with dead ends he never knew were there; barriers he thought he had overcome.

He struggles with the cuffs and chain, but like the days before he doesn’t succeed.

The door opens and he knows who it is: only one person came in at this hour. He flinches at the sudden beam of light.

“If you’re still going to ask me for the location, I’m not going to give it to you.”

He sees her smile, and it hits instantaneously.

Damn it! Sydney!

“You don’t need to. We’ve got her.”

LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT
By Jalyn/secretlives

He marvels at the sight before him.

What it comes down to, he realises, is that she looks divine. Long brown hair, piercing brown eyes, a killer smile to boot…

“Will, this is Nadia.”

He grins at her and sticks out his hand for her to shake, and she laughs a little. He feels besotted, and stumbles with his words. Sydney gives him a weird look before the light dawns. Then, her eyes twinkle and dance mischievously as she pushes Nadia gently – accidentally, she proclaims – towards Will. Nadia blushes.

Will thinks he’s falling in love with his best friend’s sister.

WHEN IRISH EYES ARE CRYING
By Jalyn/secretlives

She has always captivated him - her intelligent eyes reflecting his principles; her little laughs when she was amused had always kept him humoured.

He knew and she knew that people would be hurt if they realised what was happening.

But forbidden fruit always tastes sweet.

And now, as he watches behind tinted glasses, his heart aches suddenly.

For a past ridden with darkness, a present shrouded with fear, a future of no certainty.

Julian Sark feels a teardrop on his cheek, and he wipes it away.

Nadia never did stir from her deep and beautiful slumber.

Alone, he walks away.

CHILD'S PLAY
By Jalyn/secretlives

She clenches her fist.

He notices it, but still he chose to keep a poker face on; a façade merely perfected over the years. He watches as she purses her lips.

“Why?”

Her voice is controlled and it reminds him of years ago… No tears this time round.

“I do everything in the name of Isabelle’s safety, Sydney. You must not question –”

“And why can’t I, when you subject her to – to this?” she sputters.

He turns his head slowly towards the room.

The building blocks are still stacked nicely; its blue hue contrasting the whites of the room.

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ooh these are almost like poems. i like the sark one best :smiley: i love reading sark stories and anything which gives an insight into his character (y) I find it intersting to see how people view him.
 
Two more little ones here :smiley:

GREEN
By Jalyn/secretlives

She couldn’t forget.

Watching as her sister and her sister’s boyfriend skate around the rink, she took a moment to think about work – she tried. Her mind wandered.

Drinking didn’t cause people to make stupid choices. Drinking caused people to do things they don’t do when they are sober.

Her sister was somewhere else – Marseilles, Prague, Singapore? She didn’t know, she didn’t care.

Green eyes looked at her hungrily, like an animal.

Four shots of vodka.

Then suddenly it was over.

Across the rink, he paused and looked at her. She averted her gaze.

Now the green will haunt her.

LOOK
By Jalyn/secretlives

***

She had noticed him for a long time now.

He was there when she drove her car to her lecture hall, still there when she drove it back to the library (or dorm, or cafeteria – she even caught him when she drove home once). He was there when she was with her friends, when she was with Jack, when she was alone.

So one day, she decided to ask him. Not face-to-face, of course not – even basic survival guides will tell you not to do that to your stalker. Instead, she figured, why not give him a dead drop? That way, she would get to at least practice her skills before Uncle Dixon would task her to a mission; any mission. She was getting bored with analysing documents after documents.

Dear Sir,

I have noticed your presence, though it is not my intention to do so. Tip: try not to wear the same pair of shades every time you’re shadowing me.

I trust you know how to reply to this.


And then she waited.

A week passed, and just when she thought she had shaken him off for good, he appeared right in front of her.

“Isabelle.”

She surprised herself: she was not shocked that he knew her name. She watched his face as a smile played itself on it, watched as he smirked and watched as he removed those goddamned shades.

He blinked once, and then she noticed the brilliance of the blue. It wasn’t quite as bright as her father’s emerald, but this – sapphire? Ocean? She couldn’t quite place the exact shade of blue.

“What do you want from me?” she replied, coolly; no emotions in her voice. This man was at least twenty-five years her senior, yet she was intrigued. Whoever said older men were sexier had gotten it spot on, though she certainly wouldn’t admit it to him.

“I don’t want anything from you, of course.” She detected a tinge of nostalgia. “I just had to see for myself if it was true.”

“What?” Not a question, just a demand.

“You look just like your mother.”
 
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