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30 April 2007 @ 10:09 pm
memmoranda:  
Meg: A sweater on a squirrel.

calleigh_j: YOU WIN FOR TOTALLY with your Jake 2.0 icons (with a side of Atlantis)!

Medie: NICE MEME, dude.

Name three fics you think I will never, ever, ever write. In return (and if inspired), I will attempt to write a snippet of one of them.
 
 
hear: sister playing WoW
 
 
 
Little Redmylittleredgirl on May 1st, 2007 06:31 am (UTC)
"So you're going to let it beat you?"

It's a low blow, but unfortunately, she doesn't bite.

"I'm not eight years old anymore, Commander."

He shrugs. She always sees right through him, but it's worth a try anyway.

"I think you should keep going," he says. "It's not like we lack for time out here. It's nice to see you doing something that isn't the highest and best use of your time for a change."

She doesn't answer, and he's okay with that. They do a lot of sitting quietly together. Usually they're working, but when they're not, he likes it best.

After a few minutes of staring out at the dark, jagged asteroid interior, lit eerily in places by light from Voyager's windows and deflector, he leans over her shoulder and prompts, "Show me."

She shakes her head at how she's indulging him. Her stitches are uneven, lacking the rhythmic precision of his mother's practiced hands. Chakotay has vague memories of infancy, lying in his mother's lap while wooden needles clicked overhead.

"This can't be very interesting to watch," Kathryn says, nudging him with her shoulder.

He smiles. "Actually, it is."