Three Ficlets

[katleept]

Working Title: In Stories and Their Words
Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Labyrinth
Character/Pairing: Jareth/Sarah, Hoggle, Worm, Didymus, and Ludo -- oh, and a Goblin, but then there's always a Goblin somewhere, isn't there?
Rating: G/K
Challenge: This was written for crucified as part of the womenverse pre-holiday gift giving challenge. If you join, be sure to tell them Kat Lee of Team Flip Flops sent you!
Warning(s): None
Word Count: 524
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.


"'Scuse us, Your Majesty."

"What did I tell you would happen to you if I were interrupted again?"

"Skittle like to see world, sir, but not at end of Sir's boots."

"Then scat, Skittle." Jareth resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It was not at all a regal gesture, but he dealt with so many young girls that he couldn't help picking up a few juvenile habits over the centuries.

"But, Sir, next girl to say words."

"I'll be along shortly then, but if you speak one more word, you will find your tongue in the next dimension!"

Skittle clamped his little, green hands over his mouth and raced from Jareth's private corridors. Jareth turned back to his magic box. His eyes skipped quickly over what he had just written, and then his fingers flounced over his keyboard as he put the finishing touches onto his own story. If he could have a happy ending no other way, if he could have her no other way, then at least he could have her in these delightful tales he so enjoyed spinning. Jareth clicked the final button, then with a sigh and a slight sinking of his royal shoulders, left his chambers to deal with his mundane reality. Hopefully this girl wouldn't take long, and he'd be back to his stories soon.

= /\_/\ =

Across the labyrinth, Hoggle looked up as the magic box he had stolen from Sarah's land beeped to life. He clicked into the message, and his hairy eyebrows rose as he read the latest story to arrive. "Who writes this rubbish?" he demanded of no one in particular though two others were reading over his shoulder.

"I don't know," the Worm spoke with an air of wisdom. "The Missus says it isn't the King."

"Jareth's nuts, but even he wouldn't write this garbage!"

"I am not at all certain I would agree with you, Sir Hoggle," yipped Didymus. "It has a certain poetical, almost lyrical, feel to it. 'They lived happily ever after, she as his Queen and he as her eternal servant.'" He sniffed and took out a small, white handkerchief to dab at his wet whiskers. "Poetry indeed."

"Yeah," Hoggle grumbled, "says the guy who thinks the Bog of Eternal Stench smells like roses!"

"It does!"

"Smell bad," rumbled Ludo. He sat a little ways away from the others and had been wondering what they were discussing. He didn't know what the box thing was or why it demanded their attention so greatly, but he did understand and remember well the Bog of which they spoke. "Very bad."

"Yeah. And this fan fic thing is actually good." Unlike Jareth earlier, Hoggle did roll his eyes.

"Come inside. We'll discuss it with the Missus."

"We don't need to talk everything over with your wife!"

"I still say it was a good tale!"

"Rubbish."

= /\_/\ =

But a world away, another person read the story, and this one smiled as a certain owl took flight from her window into the starry night. He may have to deal with another girl this night, but it was to her he would always return both in stories and their worlds.

The End




Working Title: Like A Kitten
Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Gotham
Character/Pairing: Selina "Cat" Kyle, Bruce Wayne
Rating: PG/K+
Challenge: This was another written for some one at the womenverse pre-holiday gift giving challenge. (And if you want to join, you know the drill! Tell them I sent you -- Team Flip Flops!)
Warning(s): SPOILERS!
Word Count: 823
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to DC comics, not the author, and are used without permission.




She cocks her head slightly to one side as she studies him from behind her armchair shield. When she first came to Wayne Manor, she would have never thought she could get the kid to throw food at her, but despite being a kid, he's still a male. Males always think with their hormones, and if you appeal to them, you can get them to do pretty much whatever you want. She may just be a child herself, but she's already learned this and a great deal many other things that young Brucie will never know.

The kid's strange. She gets his desire to have been able to do something, anything really, to fight the creep who killed his parents, but she knows, too, just as she told him earlier, that it would've only gotten him killed. There's a lot of things you can fight against -- she's already fought against most of them in her short life on the streets --, but you can't fight a gun.

He's like a kitten, she thinks as she watches him watching her and waiting for her to slip up so that one of his buns might actually connect. He's so full of curiosity and energy if it can just be turned toward the right thing. He's as optimistic as a kitten thinking he can find a forever home with the right family. But she's seen what happens to the kittens who don't learn. The good mother cats stick to their litters, protecting them and training them in how to survive the streets and which humans to trust. The bad ones leave them to fend for themselves as soon as they're old enough to be weaned; those litters usually don't make it long, unless she finds them in time to help them survive.

She wants a place like this, she thinks, casting a sideways glance around at the spacious living room. Maybe not with all the fancy vases and silverware that Alfred would croak if she broke, but one with enough space that all the kittens, and cats too, in Gotham City could run free and never have to worry about another crook, bully, or car. She wants enough room, and enough money, to truly be free. She'll have it one day, but Cat knows already she'll have to take every penny of it from those who don't deserve it and aren't smart enough to hold on to it.

Bruce is smart in many ways, but he's still just a dumb kid when it comes to the streets. She looks back at him and folds further into the shadow behind the chair. He thinks he can fight the crime in Gotham City, and any one, even that one cop, Gordon, stands no better chance at fighting the crime in their city than a kitten does in standing up to a prized Doberman. She's seen what a dog can do to a cat; she knows what the city will do to Bruce if he goes into it too early, especially at this age. He wouldn't last a day out there.

Alfred wants to help him. Cat knows the old man really cares about him, but his kind of honest fighting won't help the kid to survive. As she told him earlier, he's got to be smart, cunning, and most of all, ruthless. Alfred can't teach him what he needs to know to survive, but she can. She wonders when she started to care for the kid. Part of her tells herself she doesn't; another part understands that she sees a lot of herself in him. She wanted to do something about her parents after all for so many years until she finally accepted that they didn't want her and made up the story she fed him about her mother.

It was all lies. She wonders if he knows that, but then, the whole world is made up of lies. The news, the cops, especially the criminals, and everybody in between lies. They lie to cover themselves. They lie to cover their friends, their allies. They lie to make themselves believe things aren't as bad as they are, but Cat knows better.

She also know this kid needs help, and like herself, he deserves another chance. He deserves a chance at a real life, not just all these riches and comfortable things with which Alfred keeps him surrounded. He deserves a chance to find himself, to be whoever that person is, and not get killed in the process of trying to find out who he really is and what he's made of. She smiles as a piece of meat flies over her curly head. She's teaching him how to have fun. She can teach him much more than that, and like a kitten following his mother, she can teach him everything he really needs to know, including the most important lesson of all: that of how to survive.

The End




Working Title: Sweet Choices
Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Once Upon A Time
Character/Pairing: Red, Granny
Rating: G/K
Challenge: abc_onceupon: Choices
Warning(s): None
Word Count: 248
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.



She stilled herself as she entered the room. Her grandmother had always told her that there was a choice to make in everything she did. This was surely no exception. She could choose to be the good granddaughter and walk away while her grandmother's back was still turned. She could ignore the scents playing over her nose now and the small treasures laid out before her. She could back away.

But then, she had been really good lately. She hadn't chased any of the neighbors' cats or sheep. She'd come in every evening before sunset, just like her granny asked. She'd done her schoolwork and hadn't beaten Samuel for making fun of her. It had been rather fun watching Peter do it, however, she reflected with a smile.

Her granny stiffened as she moved to stand up. Red knew it was no or never. She reached for her target, but her hand stilled when Granny moved. When she didn't turn around, however, Red snatched up the thing whose scent had lulled her all the way from her cot.

"RED!" Granny thundered, whirling around, but the old woman couldn't stop her laughter when faced with the sheepish grin her granddaughter offered her through a mouthful of cookie. She sighed and wiped her hands on her apron. "Go ahead," she relented, "but don't ruin your appetite." Of course, she thought, a wolf's appetite was never ruined, but then, they weren't supposed to look so sheepish either. She barked her laughter.

The End