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ravenNo meme question today; I hit a horrible wall yesterday evening. The week went pretty well, and work is good (more on how good when I do another meme question I think) and there are many good things going on for me right now! But by yesterday I'd been out of the house for thirteen hours three days in a row, and because of that, running around everywhere and getting home late and getting distracted, I'd somehow managed to eat only about 2500 calories over two and a half days and I had a thousand things to do today and ended up having an anxiety mental blue screen at the Mill Road Christmas fair, what with the crowds and the noise. More than once. Well done, self. But oddly it hasn't been a bad day. Beautiful blue sky, and I'm excited about my job, and grateful for many things in my life. (It's weird, when your bad mental health is just that: just chemical, just sleep and food and other boring stuff. Weird-good, actually. Good.)
Anyway. So, today's post comes about as a reminder to self that yes, yes, very busy, long commutes etc, but I still write, I still can write, writing is fun, etc. This is just a snippet, a gift for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
highfantastical! It's based on a conversation we had ages ago about a wonderful cracky Parks 'n' Rec/The West Wing crossover idea: what if Ben Wyatt and Andrea Wyatt were brother and sister?
I mean. Seriously. Anyway, short, not-great, writing-exercise, never apologise, never surrender, etc, etc.
Ficlet:: Sparks Fly Upwards
by Raven
1000w, Parks and Recreation/The West Wing, gen. "This," Ben says, smirking, "was special" – and god, she'd forgotten how annoying he can be.
In which Ben and Andi Wyatt are brother and sister, and have other things in common, besides.
She doesn't know he's there until she hears him say, softly: "I saw Toby on my way up. Did you happen to him again?"
"Hello to you, too," she snaps, immediately combative - that's the older-sister killer instinct - and turns around. Ben raises his eyebrows at her and goes back to blowing on his hands. It's freezing cold out, some kind of last smash of winter in DC. Ben is studiedly nonchalant, the air around him turning into steam, and she sighs. "How about, hi, Andi, how are you, what a pleasure it is to see you again?"
"Hi, Andi," he says, obediently. "How are you? It's great to see you again."
She smacks his shoulder. "Did Toby recognise you?"
Ben shakes his head, still blowing on his hands, and she nods. Of course, Toby wouldn't, not now. "He looked kind of stressed out," Ben adds, after a moment. "I figured that must be you."
"It's not like he's a White House staffer, or anything," she says, and blows steam in his face. They're out on the Mall, watching lights move in the distant darkness. Andi has always loved it out here. "He couldn't possibly be stressed out about the crime bill, or something in the Middle East, or, you know, being communications director for the President of the United States."
"This," Ben says, smirking, "was special" – and god, she'd forgotten how annoying he can be. "He still wears his wedding ring, I noticed. Maybe you ought not to tug his pigtails every time?"
She glares at him. "Ben Wyatt, are you giving me advice on my marriage?"
"I never give anyone advice on anything." He pauses. "Except, last week, I advised a city council in Indiana to stop running a scheme of elementary school lunch food kickbacks."
"Seriously?"
He grimaces. "They didn't take my advice. They, ah, tried to run me out of town."
"I worry about you, sometimes." Andi thinks about that for a second; she does worry about him, but probably not in the way he's thinking and definitely not in the way their mother does, twittering about Ben's strange offbeat lifestyle, which actually makes it sound like he's gay, and how he probably doesn't sleep properly or eat meals or whatever. Andi's pretty sure Ben can take care of himself. She worries that he always will.
Ben nods. "Look, I liked Toby," he says, shrugging, holding up his hands in some kind of apology. "I mean, I like him, it's not like he's died, jesus. I was just... you know."
Andi rolls her eyes, but without real depth of feeling: he's just a kid and he's trying to be kind. "Your comments are noted. Will you let me take you to dinner tonight?"
"Congresswoman Wyatt, I'm honoured." Ben grins. "Do you have the time? Aren't you busy stonewalling the executive or building a pork barrel or something?"
"Aren't you busy budget-cutting people's livelihoods while you run away from your problems?"
"Ouch," he says, mildly, and she regrets saying that - because, sure, no one doubted that Ben went away to college chiefly for away, rather than college: but the kid did good, loved math and finance and other things no one ever suspected in him, and even if he isn't who he was before, so Toby wouldn't recognise him from their wedding, he's certainly someone now, someone a little older than his age maybe, with that way he has of not letting his body take up space in a room, looking up at everyone from the bottom of some personal well. In Toby, that's infuriating; in Ben, weirdly endearing.
It's not the only thing they have in common, she thinks: she'd probably kill, commit murder, hide the bodies, anything, for either of them. It's a depressing thought.
"There's a good pizza place two blocks down," she says, offering it as apology of her own, knowing he'll understand; he smiles a little and gestures, onwards.
"My partner never lets me have pizza," he says after a moment. "The closest we ever seem to get is vegan, fat-free, and cheeseless... stuff. I mean. I wouldn't call it pizza."
Andi takes that in. "When you say partner, do you mean, has seen you naked?"
Ben laughs, bright as a bell, surprising her; off her look, he waves an expansive hand. "You'll understand, if you ever meet him. Shall we, my lady?"
He offers her an arm, and she takes it, and says, a minute later, "This would be easier if I weren't taller than you."
"We are born to sorrow," Ben intones, ridiculous and sweet, "as the sparks..." - and he's smiling as he says that, gesturing with his free hand, but she doesn't think something ridiculous about sorrow, or salvation, or second chances. It's not her job to save anyone from themselves.
"It's trouble, not sorrow," she says, as they figure out some kind of rhythm of walking. "And it's man who's born to it. You misquoted."
"On purpose," Ben says, looking up; Andi follows his gaze, and there are the distant stars, flying upwards. They're close to the flightpath into National, she guesses.
"Whatever," she says, grinning.
"No," Ben says, kind of sweet, and kind of ridiculous, "I really did, I have two sisters" - and she punches him lightly in the shoulder, and they keep on going, towards the light.
end.
Anyway. So, today's post comes about as a reminder to self that yes, yes, very busy, long commutes etc, but I still write, I still can write, writing is fun, etc. This is just a snippet, a gift for
highfantastical! It's based on a conversation we had ages ago about a wonderful cracky Parks 'n' Rec/The West Wing crossover idea: what if Ben Wyatt and Andrea Wyatt were brother and sister? I mean. Seriously. Anyway, short, not-great, writing-exercise, never apologise, never surrender, etc, etc.
Ficlet:: Sparks Fly Upwards
by Raven
1000w, Parks and Recreation/The West Wing, gen. "This," Ben says, smirking, "was special" – and god, she'd forgotten how annoying he can be.
In which Ben and Andi Wyatt are brother and sister, and have other things in common, besides.
She doesn't know he's there until she hears him say, softly: "I saw Toby on my way up. Did you happen to him again?"
"Hello to you, too," she snaps, immediately combative - that's the older-sister killer instinct - and turns around. Ben raises his eyebrows at her and goes back to blowing on his hands. It's freezing cold out, some kind of last smash of winter in DC. Ben is studiedly nonchalant, the air around him turning into steam, and she sighs. "How about, hi, Andi, how are you, what a pleasure it is to see you again?"
"Hi, Andi," he says, obediently. "How are you? It's great to see you again."
She smacks his shoulder. "Did Toby recognise you?"
Ben shakes his head, still blowing on his hands, and she nods. Of course, Toby wouldn't, not now. "He looked kind of stressed out," Ben adds, after a moment. "I figured that must be you."
"It's not like he's a White House staffer, or anything," she says, and blows steam in his face. They're out on the Mall, watching lights move in the distant darkness. Andi has always loved it out here. "He couldn't possibly be stressed out about the crime bill, or something in the Middle East, or, you know, being communications director for the President of the United States."
"This," Ben says, smirking, "was special" – and god, she'd forgotten how annoying he can be. "He still wears his wedding ring, I noticed. Maybe you ought not to tug his pigtails every time?"
She glares at him. "Ben Wyatt, are you giving me advice on my marriage?"
"I never give anyone advice on anything." He pauses. "Except, last week, I advised a city council in Indiana to stop running a scheme of elementary school lunch food kickbacks."
"Seriously?"
He grimaces. "They didn't take my advice. They, ah, tried to run me out of town."
"I worry about you, sometimes." Andi thinks about that for a second; she does worry about him, but probably not in the way he's thinking and definitely not in the way their mother does, twittering about Ben's strange offbeat lifestyle, which actually makes it sound like he's gay, and how he probably doesn't sleep properly or eat meals or whatever. Andi's pretty sure Ben can take care of himself. She worries that he always will.
Ben nods. "Look, I liked Toby," he says, shrugging, holding up his hands in some kind of apology. "I mean, I like him, it's not like he's died, jesus. I was just... you know."
Andi rolls her eyes, but without real depth of feeling: he's just a kid and he's trying to be kind. "Your comments are noted. Will you let me take you to dinner tonight?"
"Congresswoman Wyatt, I'm honoured." Ben grins. "Do you have the time? Aren't you busy stonewalling the executive or building a pork barrel or something?"
"Aren't you busy budget-cutting people's livelihoods while you run away from your problems?"
"Ouch," he says, mildly, and she regrets saying that - because, sure, no one doubted that Ben went away to college chiefly for away, rather than college: but the kid did good, loved math and finance and other things no one ever suspected in him, and even if he isn't who he was before, so Toby wouldn't recognise him from their wedding, he's certainly someone now, someone a little older than his age maybe, with that way he has of not letting his body take up space in a room, looking up at everyone from the bottom of some personal well. In Toby, that's infuriating; in Ben, weirdly endearing.
It's not the only thing they have in common, she thinks: she'd probably kill, commit murder, hide the bodies, anything, for either of them. It's a depressing thought.
"There's a good pizza place two blocks down," she says, offering it as apology of her own, knowing he'll understand; he smiles a little and gestures, onwards.
"My partner never lets me have pizza," he says after a moment. "The closest we ever seem to get is vegan, fat-free, and cheeseless... stuff. I mean. I wouldn't call it pizza."
Andi takes that in. "When you say partner, do you mean, has seen you naked?"
Ben laughs, bright as a bell, surprising her; off her look, he waves an expansive hand. "You'll understand, if you ever meet him. Shall we, my lady?"
He offers her an arm, and she takes it, and says, a minute later, "This would be easier if I weren't taller than you."
"We are born to sorrow," Ben intones, ridiculous and sweet, "as the sparks..." - and he's smiling as he says that, gesturing with his free hand, but she doesn't think something ridiculous about sorrow, or salvation, or second chances. It's not her job to save anyone from themselves.
"It's trouble, not sorrow," she says, as they figure out some kind of rhythm of walking. "And it's man who's born to it. You misquoted."
"On purpose," Ben says, looking up; Andi follows his gaze, and there are the distant stars, flying upwards. They're close to the flightpath into National, she guesses.
"Whatever," she says, grinning.
"No," Ben says, kind of sweet, and kind of ridiculous, "I really did, I have two sisters" - and she punches him lightly in the shoulder, and they keep on going, towards the light.
end.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
on 2013-12-07 06:21 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2013-12-08 09:41 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2013-12-07 06:23 pm (UTC)Ben and Andi as brother and sister are adorable and lovely. (Incidentally, now Rob has grown a beard I have a ridiculous desire to cosplay as Toby and Andi. I don't really know where we would do this, but I do not care.)
no subject
on 2013-12-08 03:45 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2013-12-09 01:03 am (UTC)(.....if you do this, I will come as Edie Sedgwick.)
no subject
on 2013-12-11 09:19 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2013-12-07 06:25 pm (UTC)"We are born to sorrow," Ben intones, ridiculous and sweet, "as the sparks..." - and he's smiling as he says that, gesturing with his free hand, but she doesn't think something ridiculous about sorrow, or salvation, or second chances. It's not her job to save anyone from themselves.
... Yes, yes -- gorgeous. <3
no subject
on 2013-12-08 07:48 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2013-12-07 06:32 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2013-12-08 07:49 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2013-12-08 05:42 am (UTC)no subject
on 2013-12-08 09:40 pm (UTC)