Fandom Snowflake Challenge - Day 9
Jan. 12th, 2012 01:13 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
In your own space, create a fanwork. A drabble, a ficlet, or an icon, art or meta or a rec list. A picspam. Something.
Okay, lately I've been trying to kickstart my writing by trying to write a little fic (original or fanfic) for every non-fiction book I read ... the bandom boys do keep showing up.
I have some sailor!Bob/mapmaker!Mikey (iceberg dancing!) & naturalist!Gerard/explorer!Frank (hypothermia!) on the way. When I reread Evolution's Captain, I tried to see if I could write some captain!Bob/naturalist!Gerard for turlough ... didn't work but I did manage a little bit of Lieutenant!Bob/artist!Gerard.
423 words of historical fluff, not to be taken seriously. *g*
Not What He Signed On For
Bob stood in the doorway and stared at the chaos overwhelming the cabin that had been so neat only a few hours before. Papers spilled across the table, odd jars and packages were strewn across the floor and – a man in civilian clothing was on his knees, scrabbling to reach something at the back of a drawer.
“Hah!” the stranger exclaimed in triumph and stood up, a small brush in one hand. He turned around and noticed Bob. “Oh, hello! I’m Gerard, Gerard Way, the expedition artist? You must be Lieutenant Bryar, I met Lieutenant Cortez earlier. It is Bryar, yes? Or did I get mixed up again?”
Gerard had managed to make his way across the cabin as he spoke, nearly tripping over several items, not helped by the slight rolling of the ship, but arriving safely at the doorway to offer Bob his hand and a beaming smile.
“No, no,” Bob stuttered out as he accepted Gerard’s handshake, almost afraid to grip too hard. “I mean, yes, I am Lieutenant Bryar, you didn’t get that mixed up.”
“Oh, good. It’s my brother – Mikey, he’s looking after the chronometers – who’s good with names. He’s also better at organising,” Gerard said dismally, looking around at the mess. “I’m terribly sorry, I meant to have this all stowed before you came back.”
“Ah, actually, the captain said you might need some help with that, since you hadn’t been onboard before. I can help? If you’d like?” Bob said diffidently.
Gerard’s big eyes widened. “You’d help? Oh, please help! I know there are tricks to storage at sea but I don’t what they are.”
Bob tried not to stumble too much in his response and Gerard didn’t seem to notice anything amiss, chatting away about the voyage (such a tremendous opportunity!), his art (he’d already started sketching the ship and some of the men), the company (Midshipman Iero had tattoos from the South Seas!), his brother (who looked in at one point and simply requested that Gerard not disarrange his own possessions which were already stowed), as the two of them worked to bring order into the small cabin.
Bob finally escaped on deck when Captain Toro called for him but only part of his mind was listening to his orders. The rest was wondering how on earth he was to survive at least two years at sea, in constant, close proximity to most attractive man he had ever met.
That was not what he had signed on for.