![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Apr. 1st, 2019 04:34 pmI've been piddling around with writing fic, and it just kinda hangs on my hard drive or my email or whatever, but two things I jotted down last week came out to perfect numbers (100 words and 250 words, respectively, according to google), so have a couple drabbles?
Thing 1:
Alex has had just enough alcohol that the world would be feeling pleasantly hazy if it weren't for the white hot ball of jealousy in his gut. Across the bar, Guerin is laughing it up, showing off his charm - and his abs - to a couple tourist girls. Alien enthusiasts. If they only knew.
It's almost surprising that Maria puts up with this, Guerin laying back across a table, shirt undone, letting some young blonde lick a line of salt off his skin for her tequila shots. Then again, the show's an attraction in itself and she's making money off it.
Thing 2:
Michael can't sleep.
The anxious thrumming under his skin is more than just general restlessness. It reminds him of the way it feels when a storm is rolling in, but the skies are clear. Usually the wide expanse calms something in him, reminds him that somewhere out there is Home, the place where he and Isobel came from. Things have changed, though. Max and Isobel have made a life here. They have jobs and friends and homes and roots. They have Liz and Noah. Michael has a shitty house on wheels, a history of one-night stands, and a half empty bottle of cheap liquor.
He thinks about going to the bar, higher quality alcohol and another random hookup, but even if things weren't awkward with Maria, even if he wasn't worried about running into Alex Manes, he doesn't feel like putting in the effort to be sociable.
So drinking alone it is.
He could be working on his plans, on the ship, on any of the mysteries that seem to be piling up in this town, but all those things serve to remind him that he's alone. If he finds a way back to where they came from, if he finds others like them - Max and Isobel aren't leaving with him. And no one is asking him to stay.
He downs the rest of the liquor and chucks the empty bottle at the side of the trailer. The shattering sound isn't nearly as satisfying as he hoped it would be.
Thing 1:
Alex has had just enough alcohol that the world would be feeling pleasantly hazy if it weren't for the white hot ball of jealousy in his gut. Across the bar, Guerin is laughing it up, showing off his charm - and his abs - to a couple tourist girls. Alien enthusiasts. If they only knew.
It's almost surprising that Maria puts up with this, Guerin laying back across a table, shirt undone, letting some young blonde lick a line of salt off his skin for her tequila shots. Then again, the show's an attraction in itself and she's making money off it.
Thing 2:
Michael can't sleep.
The anxious thrumming under his skin is more than just general restlessness. It reminds him of the way it feels when a storm is rolling in, but the skies are clear. Usually the wide expanse calms something in him, reminds him that somewhere out there is Home, the place where he and Isobel came from. Things have changed, though. Max and Isobel have made a life here. They have jobs and friends and homes and roots. They have Liz and Noah. Michael has a shitty house on wheels, a history of one-night stands, and a half empty bottle of cheap liquor.
He thinks about going to the bar, higher quality alcohol and another random hookup, but even if things weren't awkward with Maria, even if he wasn't worried about running into Alex Manes, he doesn't feel like putting in the effort to be sociable.
So drinking alone it is.
He could be working on his plans, on the ship, on any of the mysteries that seem to be piling up in this town, but all those things serve to remind him that he's alone. If he finds a way back to where they came from, if he finds others like them - Max and Isobel aren't leaving with him. And no one is asking him to stay.
He downs the rest of the liquor and chucks the empty bottle at the side of the trailer. The shattering sound isn't nearly as satisfying as he hoped it would be.
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}