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[helsinkibaby]

This first lines drabble meme? Seriously, the most addictive thing ever. I'm up to 11 (yes, you read that right) and I'm sure there's more to come. In the meantime, here's the first six.

From medie
Title: Hope Dawning
Fandom: CSI
Pairing: Warrick/Sara
Word Count: 220


He woke to a darkened room and an empty bed, frowning sleepily upon realisation of the latter. His first thought, when his mind cleared, was that Sara had left, run, and run quickly when she’d woken up beside him, realising where she was, and, more to the point, who she was with. He should have known, Warrick thought, that it was too good to be true, that there was no way that things would ever work out between them. She was too in love with Grissom for that, no matter what he might have let himself believe a few hours ago.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair, freezing momentarily when he heard a noise. Turning his head, he realised that it was coming in the direction of the bathroom; moreover, he recognised what it was.

It was the sound of the shower running.

Hope dawning, he rose, padding to the bathroom, finding the door ajar, steam wafting out through it. He was fairly sure what – or who – he was going to see, but he still blinked when he saw her standing in his shower, blinked again when she turned to him, a broad grin on her face.

“What took you so long?” she asked, and all he could do was shake his head.

“I really have no idea.”
>*<*>*<

Title: Native Soil
Fandom: CSI/Highlander(ish)
Pairing: Sara/Sam (OMC)
Word Count: 485



Standing there with grey sky above him and grey slab before him, he couldn’t help but fee old… weary. Small wonder, since the grey slab before him was over seven hundred years old, his family crypt, the names of his ancestors and descendants carved into its walls. His name was missing though, for obvious reasons, and he knew how that must have broken his parents’ hearts, remembered how he hid in the nearby forests – all housing estates now – watching his parents, his wife, his young son, walk by on the way into town, saw grief etched plainly in their faces. He knew he couldn’t contact them though, knew that, as far as they knew, he was dead, his body stolen, so instead he ran, to London among other places, never staying anywhere for long, until, after two hundred years, he boarded a ship and set sail for America.

He’d been there ever since, and this was the first time in three hundred odd years that he’d set foot on his native soil, but that wasn’t what made him feel old.

What made him feel old was the young woman at his side, her hand warm in his. Sara was twenty-five years old, stunningly beautiful and completely unaware of it, and for the last ten years, she’d been aware of his secret, the only person that he could really talk to, about anything. She listened to him, and she didn’t judge him, did her best to understand, even if he’d experienced things, seen things, that she could never even dream of.

In five hundred years, he’d never felt about a woman the way he felt about her, and he knew that if he lived for a thousand, he never would again. Her youth, her infectious enthusiasm for knowledge, her indomitable spirit, these were all the things he loved about her, the same things that reminded him of the differences between them, the differences that he knew would one day drive them apart.

He would lose her one day, he knew, probably one day soon, and it bothered him that he’d lived for five hundred years, remembered a lot of things, but he couldn’t remember how to live without her.

Then her grip tightened on his, and she pressed her body closer against his, snuggling in against the chill of the autumn wind. “Are you ok?” she asked, and when he looked down at her, he saw her face filled with concern, concern for him.

He smiled, because tomorrow is not today, and she made this trip with him, and that counted for a lot. More than that, they were here, together, and if it was just for now, it was still enough. Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he wrapped his arms around her, closed his eyes and held her tightly. “Now I am,” he said, and he knew that it was true.
>*<*>*<


Title: The Salt on her Pillow
Fandom: CSI Miami
Pairing: Speed/Calleigh
Word Count: 196
Spoilers: Lost Son


It takes little concentration to summon the memory of her hands on him, skimming lightly up his chest to push his shirt from his shoulders.

Even less to remember how his lips would turn up in a smile, even as they voiced mock-protest, accusing her of only being interested in him for his body. She always used to tease him right back, asking him if he had a problem with that, and his response was always the same. “Not at all,” he would say, pulling her close, fitting his lips to hers as his busy hands worked at her clothes. His stubble would be rough against her skin, and part of her would be calculating just how much makeup she was going to have to wear in the morning to cover it up, but she’d be lying if she said she really minded that much.

And now, she’d give anything to have that to worry about. Would give anything to have him here beside her, his arms around her, her clothes and his littering the floor.

But he’s not here, will never be here again, leaving her with only memories and the salt on her pillow.
>*<*>*<


Title: Family
Fandom: Sports Night
Pairing: Dan/Natalie
Spoilers: The Apology, general for everything else.
Word Count: 173


There was a time when he would have welcomed his father’s affections, perhaps even returned them. When he was in college, certainly, when he was trying to deal with his guilt over Sam’s death, guilt that was only compounded by the fact that he knew his father blamed him too.

There was a time when Dan would have welcomed his father’s affections, but not any more. Not when he has a new family that means the world to him.

Isaac, who has been more of a father to him in the last few years than his own ever was.

He’s found siblings in Dana, in Casey and Jeremy, and to a lesser extent, in the various other technicians.

And when Natalie slips her hand into his, smiles up at him with that way of hers, he knows he’s found the other half of his soul

There was a time when he would have welcomed his father’s affections, perhaps even returned them, but not any more.

Not when he has everything he ever wanted.
>*<*>*<


For christinekh-
Title: Drawing Comparisons
Fandom: Line of Fire
Pairing: Roy/Bambi
Spoilers: The Senator
Word Count: 386

She thinks about it late at night, when the stars are twinkling down at her as she sits on the fire escape after another long day. That’s the time when it’s quiet, when she can let herself breathe, and not think about the struggle of making a new life while trying to keep the old secret.

On those nights, she thinks about her old life, whoring body and soul in Richmond, Virginia, about how different it is to her new, student life at a community college in suburban Maryland. She thinks about her old apartment, spacious and roomy and beautifully decorated, and she casts a glance over her shoulder into her new. There’s not enough room to swing a cat, and she’s on the top floor of a building where the elevator more often than not doesn’t work, but damn if she doesn’t love it here.

She loves everything about her new life, even if she does sometimes forget to answer to her new-old name, Bernadette (because no-one ever really believed that Bambi was the name on her birth certificate.)

She doesn’t remember her old life fondly, there is no hint of nostalgia there, but sometimes, just sometimes, she looks up at the stars and remembers the last night of her new life, the night of her twenty-first birthday. Of the perfect day that preceded that night, Roy “buying” her for the day, treating her like she was a real person, not some hour-long roll-in-the-hay.

She remembers how kind he was to her, even after the horrible things she said to him, and she remembers the look in those eyes of his when he told her that he wouldn’t kill her father, not because her father didn’t deserve to die, but because she didn’t deserve to have that on her conscience.

She remembers how gently his lips first touched hers, how gentle he was throughout that night, and she remembers that her twenty-first birthday, despite having had sex with five hundred and seven men, was the first time she’d ever known what it was like to make love.

Late at night, on her fire escape, when she thinks about her old life and her new, she knows that she wouldn’t go back, not really.

But sometimes, when she thinks about him, about that night, she wonders.

>*<*>*<

For michellek

Title: No Ordinary Addiction
Fandom: West Wing
Pairing: Leo/Ainsley
Word Count: 229


She is no ordinary addiction -- not a powdery drug or an amber liquid in a cool glass.

She’s not even illegal, no matter that she’s young enough to be your daughter, no matter that she’s someone you shouldn’t even be thinking about being involved with.

She’s all wrong for you – too young, too Republican, too beautiful for a wartime consigliere like yourself. You know the reasons why you should stop seeing her, you know everything that’s at stake.

You know all this, just like you knew it about the booze, just like you knew it about the pills.

And just like the booze, just like the pills, you don’t want to stop.

That’s not all it is though. Because even with the possible consequences, there’s one big difference between Ainsley and your other addictions.

Booze, pills, even your work – they took over your life, stripped you of everything that made you you, held you powerless in their grasp.

Ainsley doesn’t do that.

When Ainsley looks at you and smiles, when she slides her hand into yours, you feel strong, invincible, like you could take over the world. You feel like there’s nothing you can’t do, and, with her help, you know that it’s true.

She is no ordinary addiction, but she is yours. And for the first time in your life, being addicted isn’t such a bad thing.