Valentine fic for stabbitydeath
Feb. 16th, 2006 02:07 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chanter1944Story ahoy. :)
this is Valentine's Day fic for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
stabbitydeath. The story requirements were a 1992 fic and cat litter. forgive the somewhat serious tone of this one... apparently Tracy doesn't like February 14 any more than I tend to.
I'll introduce Andrew and Duke in the next fic, I swear. :) For reference, they're the guys across the hall from Tracy and Butterfly's place.
Title: Allergies
Author: chanter
Series: original, 1992 universe
Rating: PG for mild language
Characters/pairings: Butterfly, Tracy, hints of Tracy/Andrew
Summary: Tracy is allergic to memory. Butterfly’s issue on the other hand is more... tangible.
265 words
“Achoo!”
the first sneeze made Tracy’s fingers slip against her guitar strings midway through a chord shift, the resulting twang warping the blues, jarring the ears and bouncing off the bedroom walls and almost covering the sound of frustrated sniffling from the kitchen.
“Achoo!”
The second one caught her with both hands poised above the twelve string, an inch from fouling calloused fingers against steel strands and tearing one or both in her surprise.
“Achoo! Damn it! Tracy, were you around that stupid cat of Duke’s again because I swear to God there’s fur in here.”
The third didn’t even make her flinch, and the irritated question that followed it went unanswered as recent memory played itself out, memory of Duke and Andrew struggling off the elevator and down the hallway, their arms laden with topheavy bags of groceries and no room to reach for a pocketed key.
Memory of Andrew’s bag splitting raggedly up one side, spilling plain potato chips, half a dozen cans of mushroom soup, several milk chocolate candy bars and a large bag of a brand of cat litter Tracy didn’t recognize to the carpet in a rush.
Memory of the three of them sorting out the mess, cleaning up the crums, opening the door. Memory of the orange tiger kitten that Andrew had called Connecticut walking circles around half a dozen individual feet.
Memory of Andrew.
The foghorn sound of Butterfly blowing her nose caught Tracy in the middle of another chord, major harmony abruptly replaced by a hissed curse as a string snapped. A lot of help memory was.
this is Valentine's Day fic for
stabbitydeath. The story requirements were a 1992 fic and cat litter. forgive the somewhat serious tone of this one... apparently Tracy doesn't like February 14 any more than I tend to. I'll introduce Andrew and Duke in the next fic, I swear. :) For reference, they're the guys across the hall from Tracy and Butterfly's place.
Title: Allergies
Author: chanter
Series: original, 1992 universe
Rating: PG for mild language
Characters/pairings: Butterfly, Tracy, hints of Tracy/Andrew
Summary: Tracy is allergic to memory. Butterfly’s issue on the other hand is more... tangible.
265 words
“Achoo!”
the first sneeze made Tracy’s fingers slip against her guitar strings midway through a chord shift, the resulting twang warping the blues, jarring the ears and bouncing off the bedroom walls and almost covering the sound of frustrated sniffling from the kitchen.
“Achoo!”
The second one caught her with both hands poised above the twelve string, an inch from fouling calloused fingers against steel strands and tearing one or both in her surprise.
“Achoo! Damn it! Tracy, were you around that stupid cat of Duke’s again because I swear to God there’s fur in here.”
The third didn’t even make her flinch, and the irritated question that followed it went unanswered as recent memory played itself out, memory of Duke and Andrew struggling off the elevator and down the hallway, their arms laden with topheavy bags of groceries and no room to reach for a pocketed key.
Memory of Andrew’s bag splitting raggedly up one side, spilling plain potato chips, half a dozen cans of mushroom soup, several milk chocolate candy bars and a large bag of a brand of cat litter Tracy didn’t recognize to the carpet in a rush.
Memory of the three of them sorting out the mess, cleaning up the crums, opening the door. Memory of the orange tiger kitten that Andrew had called Connecticut walking circles around half a dozen individual feet.
Memory of Andrew.
The foghorn sound of Butterfly blowing her nose caught Tracy in the middle of another chord, major harmony abruptly replaced by a hissed curse as a string snapped. A lot of help memory was.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-02-16 05:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-16 10:33 pm (UTC)And *snugs* thanks!