Have Yourself a Zombie Little Christmas
Dec. 25th, 2011 05:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jackofknavesTitle: Have Yourself a Zombie Little Christmas
Author:jackofknaves
Rating: PG
Pairing: Gen
Summary: The ongoing tales of a zombie fighter and her hapless sidekick.
"Merry Christmas," he said, proffering a red-striped gift with an awkwardly tied green bow towards her. She eyed it as if it might be a bomb, then gingerly pulled it out of his hands and placed it on her lap.
"Thank you," she said with a twist of her lips that looked like a smile. He was unsure, however, because all her smiles until this point had been sardonic, vicious, or downright evil.
"Go on," he said, plopping down next to her and peering over her shoulder. "Open it."
"It's not Christmas," she pointed out. "You're not supposed to open gifts until Christmas."
"I'll let it go. Since when are you afraid to break the rules?"
She muttered something under her breath.
"What?" he frowned, leaning in to catch it.
She blew out a frustrated huff of air. "I said that Santa knows all and sees all. He'll know if I broke the rules."
He blinked. "I... uh, I think it's all right, if I gave you permission."
"I've never heard that," she said suspiciously. He crossed his heart and held up the Scout's signal solemnly. "Well."
"C'mon, you'll like it."
She unwrapped it with a slow caution that seemed out of place with her brash nature. The bow was slowly drawn into a ribbon again and placed on the seat next to her, then the edges of the wrapping paper peeled away to reveal a box.
He shrugged. "I wasn't sure what to get you," he said finally when the silence stretched a bit long. "I mean, I thought you might--"
"It's wonderful," she said, twirling the dreamcatcher in the air in front of her. "You know, the old Indian legend goes--"
"I know," he cut in. "I read it in one of your books."
She beamed at him proudly. "That's my boy."
He blushed and stood abruptly, wiping his jeans with his hands and not making eye contact. "So. Um. Merry Christmas."
"Sure," she said distractedly, stroking a turquoise stone embedded in the webbed surface of the dreamcatcher. "Hey, do me a favor and put this in the trunk, will you?"
He caught the jacket she tossed him and then the keys with his other hand.
The trunk lid popped open and he carelessly shoved the jacket in before a bright flash of red caught his eye. A .45 pistol glimmered dully in the corner, a shiny red bow taped to it. He picked it up and hoisted it in his hand, testing the weight, when he noticed the card underneath.
"Mention this and I'll leave you at a gas station someplace. Don't screw the sight up. Merry Christmas."
Author:
jackofknavesRating: PG
Pairing: Gen
Summary: The ongoing tales of a zombie fighter and her hapless sidekick.
"Merry Christmas," he said, proffering a red-striped gift with an awkwardly tied green bow towards her. She eyed it as if it might be a bomb, then gingerly pulled it out of his hands and placed it on her lap.
"Thank you," she said with a twist of her lips that looked like a smile. He was unsure, however, because all her smiles until this point had been sardonic, vicious, or downright evil.
"Go on," he said, plopping down next to her and peering over her shoulder. "Open it."
"It's not Christmas," she pointed out. "You're not supposed to open gifts until Christmas."
"I'll let it go. Since when are you afraid to break the rules?"
She muttered something under her breath.
"What?" he frowned, leaning in to catch it.
She blew out a frustrated huff of air. "I said that Santa knows all and sees all. He'll know if I broke the rules."
He blinked. "I... uh, I think it's all right, if I gave you permission."
"I've never heard that," she said suspiciously. He crossed his heart and held up the Scout's signal solemnly. "Well."
"C'mon, you'll like it."
She unwrapped it with a slow caution that seemed out of place with her brash nature. The bow was slowly drawn into a ribbon again and placed on the seat next to her, then the edges of the wrapping paper peeled away to reveal a box.
He shrugged. "I wasn't sure what to get you," he said finally when the silence stretched a bit long. "I mean, I thought you might--"
"It's wonderful," she said, twirling the dreamcatcher in the air in front of her. "You know, the old Indian legend goes--"
"I know," he cut in. "I read it in one of your books."
She beamed at him proudly. "That's my boy."
He blushed and stood abruptly, wiping his jeans with his hands and not making eye contact. "So. Um. Merry Christmas."
"Sure," she said distractedly, stroking a turquoise stone embedded in the webbed surface of the dreamcatcher. "Hey, do me a favor and put this in the trunk, will you?"
He caught the jacket she tossed him and then the keys with his other hand.
The trunk lid popped open and he carelessly shoved the jacket in before a bright flash of red caught his eye. A .45 pistol glimmered dully in the corner, a shiny red bow taped to it. He picked it up and hoisted it in his hand, testing the weight, when he noticed the card underneath.
"Mention this and I'll leave you at a gas station someplace. Don't screw the sight up. Merry Christmas."
