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Jul. 21st, 2004 10:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
helsinkibabyI have my computer back!!! {hugs computer and swears to never let it go again}
Not only that, I have a new icon! It's not brilliant, but it makes me happy... Press Gang, Kenny/Lynda,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
maggis it's all your fault!
And in a related theme, I have Press Gang fic, which is also for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
multifandom1000 goodbyes challenge. Slightly over the word count and possibly late, but oh well. Title sucks, but again, oh well.
The Other Leaving Party
“I know you don’t like parties, but this is ridiculous.”
Kenny closed the door carefully behind him, hoping against hope that none of the news team had seen him disappearing into Colin’s lair – he had a distinct feeling that Lynda wouldn’t thank him for that. Of course, considering the look that Lynda was shooting him, if anyone did come looking for him, all they were going to find was his cold dead body anyway.
“I mean, seriously Lynda… voluntarily working in Colin’s office? I’m surprised he’s not charging you rent.”
“Who said he wasn’t?” Lynda’s reply, though tart, was still more than he’d got out of her in several weeks, and it gave Kenny hope, hope which rapidly vanished when she continued, “Besides, I’ve got a mountain of work to do, seeing as how someone quit his job as Assistant Editor to go off gallivanting in Australia…” Every word a bullet, Kenny slipped his hands into his pockets and looked down, familiar guilt rising in his throat. “I wonder who that would be?”
“Lynda…”
“Oh no, wait… I remember now, that was you.”
“Lynda…”
“Kenny, just because the rest of the news team seize on any excuse for a party and forget about their responsibilities doesn’t mean that we can all afford to. Someone has to be in charge around here, and-”
“Lynda!”
In all the years he’d known Lynda, Kenny had raised his voice to her only a handful of times, and it never failed to get her full attention. There was more guilt as he saw her wide eyes, saw the hurt underneath them that she was trying to hide, and he sighed, running a hand through his hair as he approached the desk. Crossing her arms over her chest, she leaned back in her chair, still glaring up at him, and he sat down on the edge of the desk, taking a deep breath and his life in his hands.
“Look, I know you’re angry at me-”
A huff of air escaped her lips. “What gave it away?”
As always, he deflected sarcasm with humour. “Well, the silent treatment was a bit of a clue… I mean, it was nice to have the break at first…” Her lips turned up in the tiniest of smiles as he paused, shrugging, before continuing, “But it’s getting kind of old now. I mean, Lynda, I’m going to Australia tomorrow… and I want my best friend at my leaving party.”
She sniffed, not with sorrow but with unmistakable disdain. “I don’t do parties,” she muttered.
“I remember.” She glanced up at him, another of those tiny smiles on her lips, and he looked around the shelves at Colin’s various get-rich-quick schemes. “Wonder if there’s any chess sets here…” Because that’s how they’d spent the time at Lynda’s fourteenth birthday party, the time she’d pretended to be sick to avoid a roomful of people. Lynda’s social phobia was a well-kept secret, something Kenny had never told anyone about, something that only one other person knew.
Of course, Kenny remembered, Spike recently left Lynda too, which was kind of the whole problem.
“Of course,” he continued, when she didn’t reply, “I’ll have to lose all the games so you won’t throw me out again…”
She tilted her head and looked up at him at that, and he knew he was in for a zinger. “Who says I won’t do that anyway?”
Kenny shrugged, remembering an incident when they were kids, when Lynda had hurt her arm. “At least we’re on the ground floor if you decide you want to push me out a window.”
He meant it as a joke, but when his eyes met Lynda’s, she wasn’t laughing. “I haven’t been a very good friend to you, have I?” she asked, and his jaw dropped open at the plaintive tone in her voice. He’d never heard Lynda sound like that, not since Spike told her that he was going back to America the first time. “I mean it Kenny… all the things I’ve said, the things I’ve done… I’m not surprised you’re off to Australia; I’m just surprised you haven’t done it sooner.”
“Hey,” he said, reaching out, closing his fingers over her wrist. “That’s my best friend you’re talking about there… and you’re not allowed talk about her like that.”
“That’s your job, is it?”
“Well, what are assistant editors for?” She looked down at his hand, moving her arm so that her fingers gripped his. Sighing, he looked down too, squeezed her hand. “Lynda, I’m your friend because I want to be… because whatever life is with you around, it’s never dull…”
“Not because you’re scared of me?” A spark of humour danced in her eyes, and he grinned.
“Well, that too… but mostly because I love you.” Her eyes slid from their joined hands down to the floor, and she nodded slowly. “It’s not forever, Lynda…” he tried. “I’m coming back… we’ll write… call…”
She nodded again. “I know.” Her voice was very small, smaller when she added, “But it’s not going to be the same.”
“You’ll find other people to yell at-” he began, stopping when she looked up at him with tear-filled eyes.
“But they won’t be you,” she told him. “And I’m really going to miss you.”
A vulnerable Lynda Day was an unusual enough experience for Kenny to do something else unusual, something he would never usually dare to do. Standing up, he pulled her up and into his arms, surprised at how tightly she held onto him. “I’m going to miss you too, Boss,” he murmured into her hair.
When she pulled away, her cheeks were pink as she wiped them impatiently. “Don’t tell anyone-” she began, and he smiled.
“Hey, what are assistant editors for?” Another smile from her, and he looked over his shoulder. “There’s a party going on outside you know… food, music, dancing… shame to be cooped up in here…”
“You’re trying to make me feel guilty, aren’t you?”
It was vintage Lynda, and all he could do was grin. “It is the nature of our friendship… is it working?”
She didn’t reply directly, just glared at him. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go.”
Sliding his hand into hers, he fell into step beside her. “Yes Boss,” he said, holding the door open for her as they went back to the party.
>*<*>*<
And I can't believe I'm doing this, but the news that Jorja will apparently be back at CSI this season after all, combined with the love of my computer is making me do strange things. So despite the fact that my list of fics to write is long and getting longer, I give you the drabble meme, gakked from everyone and their mother.
Leave a comment with a drabble request, pairing or character-based. Give me one line of dialogue to be written in a drabble/ficlet (100-500 words). After you comment, put this meme in your own journal.
Won't hold you to the posting it in your own journal bit... and I think most people know the shows I write for, yes?
Not only that, I have a new icon! It's not brilliant, but it makes me happy... Press Gang, Kenny/Lynda,
maggis it's all your fault!And in a related theme, I have Press Gang fic, which is also for the
multifandom1000 goodbyes challenge. Slightly over the word count and possibly late, but oh well. Title sucks, but again, oh well. The Other Leaving Party
“I know you don’t like parties, but this is ridiculous.”
Kenny closed the door carefully behind him, hoping against hope that none of the news team had seen him disappearing into Colin’s lair – he had a distinct feeling that Lynda wouldn’t thank him for that. Of course, considering the look that Lynda was shooting him, if anyone did come looking for him, all they were going to find was his cold dead body anyway.
“I mean, seriously Lynda… voluntarily working in Colin’s office? I’m surprised he’s not charging you rent.”
“Who said he wasn’t?” Lynda’s reply, though tart, was still more than he’d got out of her in several weeks, and it gave Kenny hope, hope which rapidly vanished when she continued, “Besides, I’ve got a mountain of work to do, seeing as how someone quit his job as Assistant Editor to go off gallivanting in Australia…” Every word a bullet, Kenny slipped his hands into his pockets and looked down, familiar guilt rising in his throat. “I wonder who that would be?”
“Lynda…”
“Oh no, wait… I remember now, that was you.”
“Lynda…”
“Kenny, just because the rest of the news team seize on any excuse for a party and forget about their responsibilities doesn’t mean that we can all afford to. Someone has to be in charge around here, and-”
“Lynda!”
In all the years he’d known Lynda, Kenny had raised his voice to her only a handful of times, and it never failed to get her full attention. There was more guilt as he saw her wide eyes, saw the hurt underneath them that she was trying to hide, and he sighed, running a hand through his hair as he approached the desk. Crossing her arms over her chest, she leaned back in her chair, still glaring up at him, and he sat down on the edge of the desk, taking a deep breath and his life in his hands.
“Look, I know you’re angry at me-”
A huff of air escaped her lips. “What gave it away?”
As always, he deflected sarcasm with humour. “Well, the silent treatment was a bit of a clue… I mean, it was nice to have the break at first…” Her lips turned up in the tiniest of smiles as he paused, shrugging, before continuing, “But it’s getting kind of old now. I mean, Lynda, I’m going to Australia tomorrow… and I want my best friend at my leaving party.”
She sniffed, not with sorrow but with unmistakable disdain. “I don’t do parties,” she muttered.
“I remember.” She glanced up at him, another of those tiny smiles on her lips, and he looked around the shelves at Colin’s various get-rich-quick schemes. “Wonder if there’s any chess sets here…” Because that’s how they’d spent the time at Lynda’s fourteenth birthday party, the time she’d pretended to be sick to avoid a roomful of people. Lynda’s social phobia was a well-kept secret, something Kenny had never told anyone about, something that only one other person knew.
Of course, Kenny remembered, Spike recently left Lynda too, which was kind of the whole problem.
“Of course,” he continued, when she didn’t reply, “I’ll have to lose all the games so you won’t throw me out again…”
She tilted her head and looked up at him at that, and he knew he was in for a zinger. “Who says I won’t do that anyway?”
Kenny shrugged, remembering an incident when they were kids, when Lynda had hurt her arm. “At least we’re on the ground floor if you decide you want to push me out a window.”
He meant it as a joke, but when his eyes met Lynda’s, she wasn’t laughing. “I haven’t been a very good friend to you, have I?” she asked, and his jaw dropped open at the plaintive tone in her voice. He’d never heard Lynda sound like that, not since Spike told her that he was going back to America the first time. “I mean it Kenny… all the things I’ve said, the things I’ve done… I’m not surprised you’re off to Australia; I’m just surprised you haven’t done it sooner.”
“Hey,” he said, reaching out, closing his fingers over her wrist. “That’s my best friend you’re talking about there… and you’re not allowed talk about her like that.”
“That’s your job, is it?”
“Well, what are assistant editors for?” She looked down at his hand, moving her arm so that her fingers gripped his. Sighing, he looked down too, squeezed her hand. “Lynda, I’m your friend because I want to be… because whatever life is with you around, it’s never dull…”
“Not because you’re scared of me?” A spark of humour danced in her eyes, and he grinned.
“Well, that too… but mostly because I love you.” Her eyes slid from their joined hands down to the floor, and she nodded slowly. “It’s not forever, Lynda…” he tried. “I’m coming back… we’ll write… call…”
She nodded again. “I know.” Her voice was very small, smaller when she added, “But it’s not going to be the same.”
“You’ll find other people to yell at-” he began, stopping when she looked up at him with tear-filled eyes.
“But they won’t be you,” she told him. “And I’m really going to miss you.”
A vulnerable Lynda Day was an unusual enough experience for Kenny to do something else unusual, something he would never usually dare to do. Standing up, he pulled her up and into his arms, surprised at how tightly she held onto him. “I’m going to miss you too, Boss,” he murmured into her hair.
When she pulled away, her cheeks were pink as she wiped them impatiently. “Don’t tell anyone-” she began, and he smiled.
“Hey, what are assistant editors for?” Another smile from her, and he looked over his shoulder. “There’s a party going on outside you know… food, music, dancing… shame to be cooped up in here…”
“You’re trying to make me feel guilty, aren’t you?”
It was vintage Lynda, and all he could do was grin. “It is the nature of our friendship… is it working?”
She didn’t reply directly, just glared at him. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go.”
Sliding his hand into hers, he fell into step beside her. “Yes Boss,” he said, holding the door open for her as they went back to the party.
>*<*>*<
And I can't believe I'm doing this, but the news that Jorja will apparently be back at CSI this season after all, combined with the love of my computer is making me do strange things. So despite the fact that my list of fics to write is long and getting longer, I give you the drabble meme, gakked from everyone and their mother.
Leave a comment with a drabble request, pairing or character-based. Give me one line of dialogue to be written in a drabble/ficlet (100-500 words). After you comment, put this meme in your own journal.
Won't hold you to the posting it in your own journal bit... and I think most people know the shows I write for, yes?
