cornerofmadness

I still had two song title drabbles from that challenge from months ago. It's not that I forgot...but between deadlines and a fickle muse it took forever. I'm still not thrilled with the results but you be the judge. (and that's all I'm going to say on that. My new pet peeve, authors who bash their own fic and beg you to tell them your wrong or write a page long disortation on why they wrote something this way and if you don't like how they handle a character/pairing then tough...generally it just means they wrote someone OOC as I'm learning)

For

evil_little_dog
After Me
D M Evans
Disclaimer - not mine, all characters belong to Hiromu Arakawa et al, Square Enix and funimition. I don’t make a profit
Rating - PG
Pairing - None, discussed Ed/Winry, Roy/Riza
Time Line - Manga verse, when Winry is in Central
Summary - She doesn’t know her well but Winry thinks Riza might understand
Author’s Note - This is a long over due song title ‘drabble’ for

evil_little_dog . The song was After Me by Marillion.

Winry spotted Lieutenant Hawkeye sitting at a café out of uniform, concentrating other book as she sipped what looked to be a tall glass of lemonade. Winry hated to bother her but she didn’t really know too many people in Cental. Ed had canceled on her which meant he’d be keeping Al busy too, so she wouldn’t even have him for company. It was lonelier than she ever let on here in Central. Winry leaned over the wrought iron fence. “Hi, Ms. Hawkeye.”

Hawkeye’s head jerked up from the book she was reading. She smiled. “Hello, Winry. This is a surprised.”

Winry slung her hair back. “I got abandoned again.”

“Ah, so not much of a surprise after all.” A hint of a smile tiptoed across Riza’s face.

“Not really. May I sit with you for awhile? I don’t feel like eating alone.” Winry flushed a little, knowing she was intruding.

Riza nodded. “Of course. I never have much company.”

Winry went around to the gate and crossed into the courtyard. She sat at the table as Riza beckoned for a waitress. “Sometimes I just don’t understand boys, you know,” she said suddenly. “I’ve come all this way. You’d think Ed would find a little time for me.”

“Don’t worry. They make no more sense when they’ve grown into men.” Riza sounded so rueful Winry thought that she understood exactly how she felt.

“How is that not supposed to worry me?” Winry pouted, looking at the menu.

Riza laughed. “Maybe you have a point. I suppose what we need to do is look at why we’re with them in the first place, in spite of all their faults, and find comfort in that.”

Winry brushed her long hair back, then placed an order for a simple egg salad sandwich. “Sometimes I think Ed wants to get rid of me, not because he doesn’t care but...”

“Because he thinks his duty is in the way,” Riza finished for her.

Winry sucked in a deep breath. Riza really did understand. “Is yours like that, too?”

“I have no one,” Riza replied guardedly.

Winry’s pale brow beetled. “But I thought...”

“There are rules in the military, no fraternization between superior and junior officers and the job leaves me little time for anything else,” Riza broke in quickly. She gave Winry a meaningful look.

“Oh. I see.” Winry fingered one of her many earrings. How hard was it to be in that situation, to have to hide one’s love? “Al says Ed’s a lot like the colonel. Guess that makes them both stubborn, loud-mouthed, infuriating yet amazingly sweet men.” Winry sighed.

“You forgot handsome,” Riza said.

“That, too.” Winry smirked. “But you probably have better things to do than talk about boys with me.”

“I do get the impression that you had something more important on your mind than the usual boy talk...like the feeling of being shut out whether you want to be or not,” Riza said.

Winry’s head dipped as the waitress returned with her sandwich. “I don’t think he understands how much it hurts.”

“Have you tried telling him, Winry? It’s been my experience that people aren’t the mind readers we think they are,” Riza said.

Winry grimaced. “I never really have the chance. I see them so infrequently and they’re always together.” Winry scowled. “I could get Ed alone. Pretend I need to check his automail but it makes me feel guilty. Ed...he doesn’t want me as part of his life for a variety of reasons. I know he feels he owes Al and he won’t let himself stop until he’s helped his brother. And....his dad left, did you know that?”

Riza nodded slowly. “I’ve heard that.”

“No one knows why. I think Ed fears being like his dad. I don’t know if Ed’s found out more about why his dad left but we always assumed it had to do with alchemy. Ed doesn’t want me left behind waiting for him. He doesn’t say that but I know it here.” Winry tapped her chest.

“Men with haunted pasts are never easy, Winry, never able to fully shed those ghosts,” Riza said, her own eyes filled with her own spirits. “And alchemists are a difficult lot. My father was one and in the end it killed him. I said I would never get involved with one.” Riza laughed bitterly.

Winry stared at her wide-eyed not sure what to say. “I had no idea...I could probably convince Ed that whether or not I wait is my choice.” Winry took a sip of her drink. “But Ed is willful in not listening. Worse, I think he sees himself through imperfect lens. I’m not sure he thinks he’s worthy of being cared for after what happened.”

Riza smiled almost sadly. “He and Roy have so much in common it’s frightening.”

“Ed says it as a joke but you can tell he means it. ‘After me, Winry, your other patients have to be gems.’ ‘After me, dealing with’...you get the idea. It’s always ‘after him.’ I’m not sure if Ed thinks he’s honestly that bad - and okay sometimes he is - or if he’s telling me to look to the man who comes along after him because Ed won’t ever be emotionally available.” Winry scowled.

“The only advice I have, Winry is to don’t take no for an answer. Grab him. Don’t let Ed wiggle out of it. Get him alone and tell him all of this.”

Winry nodded. “I need him to understand that after him, there is nothing.”

Neither woman said anything for a long time.

For

a2zmom

Busby Berkeley Dreams
D M Evans
Disclaimer - not mine. Mr Whedon et al owns all
Rating - FRT
Time Line - early 1930's
Pairing - Spike/Dru
Summary - Spike goes along with another of Drusilla’s mysterious plans.
Author’s Note - This is a severely delayed song title drabble for a2zmom. The song title was Busby Berkeley Dreams by (I think) The Magnetic Fields. The movie Busby is directing in this drabble is Footlight Parade circa 1933.

“Why are we here, pet?” Spike knew Drusilla often didn’t like to be out and about in the day, clinging to the shadows and taking risks, so it had taken him by surprise when she suggested this shadow-cloaked outing.

“They swirl and twirl like fireflies in the summer,” Drusilla purred, her hips swaying suggestively.

“That didn’t clear it up, pet.” Spike ached for a cigarette but she had forbidden it for today. Some mumbo-jumbo about it being a downfall to her plan, whatever the hell it was.

Spike glanced around the bustling studio. There were plenty of shadows to hide in within the building. Spike could honestly say he’d never been all that interested in seeing how movies were made, thought he would love to have met some of the actresses with the kohl-lined eyes. They had looked like tasty tidbits. He had no idea Drusilla would want to see a movie being made as much as she enjoyed the flickering images that splashed across the silver screen.

The one thing Spike worried about were the sheer numbers of people around. Sooner or later they were bound to be noticed but Drusilla didn’t seem to care. Her concentration was totally on the lean man Spike figured had to be the director the way he was barking at everyone. Her attention eventually wandered from him to one of the actors. While Spike appreciated the risque humor - something else he wasn’t expecting - he didn’t like the way Dru was looking at the man.

“Who is that, ducks?”

“James Cagney...so pretty. I need to eat him up and make him one of us,” Dru sighed.

Spike made note to kill the bastard before he had to share his bed with him. He had had his fill of sharing Drusilla when Angelus was still alive.

“All right, we need to start blocking the Kaleidoscope choreography,” the director said.

“Right away Mr. Berkeley,” someone said.

“This is why we are here...all the pretty fireflies,” Dru said, grabbing Spike’s arm.

“Dancing? I’m not a bloody poof like Angelus, pet,” Spike groaned.

Dru ran a hand over his cheek. “You’ll like this my lovely boy.”

Spike snorted at her, wondering if now was his time to sneak away and snuff that Cagney bloke before Dru had a run at him. The stage crew was busy with something that looked like a giant four tiered wedding cake. Spike was bored but Dru had a good hold on him. He’d have to make a scene to escape and so far they had not been noticed. He wasn’t about to screw that up now.

“Here they come, the fireflies.” Dru bounced a little.

Spike rolled his eyes, reaching for a cigarette, to hell with what Dru wanted. His hand stopped half way as showgirl after half naked showgirl trotted out onto the sound stage. Their shapely bodies dripped with sparkly rhinestones and jewelry. Spike wasn’t sure but he might have just drooled on himself. “Dru, your fireflies...”

“Lovely aren’t they? Shall we drink up a few later?” Her blue eyes glinted evilly.

“Absolutely.” Spike put his arms around her. “You have the best ideas, pet. Do you think you could wear one of those outfits for me. You could be my very own firefly.”

Drusilla just grinned and Spike knew he was the luckiest man in the world.