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[case]

Someone requested another crossover meme, but -- why stick with just crossovers? Here's your chance to request things from any fandom you like -- especially if the fandom is small, obscure, or has no request type of meme available. Hopefully someone else will come along and fill it out, or someone else's request will spark something off in your head that you just have to write --

So here you go!


PAN-FANDOM FANWORKS MEME


Anon is on like always!

<b>Fandom(s):</b> <b>Character(s):</b> <b>Pairing(s, if any):</b> <b>Summary:</b> <b>Preferred Rating:</b> <b>Preferred Medium:</b>

ETA: Sorry, link list's gone. Realizing it'd exceed the character limit.

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[NYX] Kiden & Laura, Dumpster Diving (1/2)

[icor.livejournal.com]

    They've been on the streets for a few days now, but this is the first time she's been alone with Laura. Kiden's not particularly scared of her; after all, first impressions don't always turn out to be entirely accurate, and she has that whole No Time thing going on, anyway, if things get out of hand. It's more that she doesn't know what to say around her. Suggesting Laura isn't particularly talkative would be something of an understatement, and Kiden doesn't think So, you were a hooker, huh... is the best conversation starter.

    Tossing the possibility of awkward conversation aside, Kiden does the one thing she knows she's good at: she takes Laura to rifle through a dumpster. There's hardly a lack of choice in New York. They silently turn into a back alley—it's a good spot, Kiden reckons, between a fast food restaurant and an apartment building. She jumps up, hooks one leg over the side, holds her breath and begins to rummage through.

    Sometimes it's best not to look at what you're touching, unless you're certain it's some sort of food in a vaguely edible condition. If any of this effects Laura, she shows no sign, other than wrinkling her nose. Kiden gives her an odd look, and then realises that Laura's sense of smell is akin to that of a... Kiden doesn't want to say an animal, after learning even a little of what Laura's gone through, but a spade's a spade and all that.

    “Aha!” Kiden declares, grinning from ear-to-ear. Laura still doesn't flinch, even when Kiden raises a partially eaten sandwich above her head like some ancient treasure. She brings it to eye level to examine it. The bread's a little stale, and there's a healthy layer of mould spread across the bottom half. Still, it's only ham inside, no mayonnaise to go off—always a bonus, Kiden thinks, nodding to herself. She doesn't want to peel the layers apart to get a good look, and beggars can't be choosers, right? Kiden stops herself before taking a bite. “Um, you got any money hidden away anywhere?”

    Laura looks thoughtful. “One hundred and forty-seven thousand, six hundred and ninety-two dollars,” she says. Kiden's eyes go wide and her heart starts beating far too quickly until Laura says, “But I gave that to my cousin.”

    “Oh. Right,” Kiden says, not masking her disappointment very well. She shoves her hand back into the dumpster, prays that whatever she just touched didn't really just crawl over the back of her hand, and keeps hold of the sandwich in case they don't make a bigger catch. Asking Laura what she did with the money from her prostituting days might come under the category of “Awkward conversation,” as well, Kiden figures.

    “But I believe I can help you out,” Laura says, takes a step forward, and doesn't touch the dumpster.

*

    Kiden follows Laura blindly for a few blocks. She stops every so often by a backstreet or alley, sniffs the air for something, and the moves on. Kiden tries to mimic her but can't pick anything up, and her empty stomach makes her feet feel heavy. She's about to complain for the umpteenth time, when it appears Laura's tracked down her prey. Stopping dead in her tracks, she says nothing, simply points to a bright green dumpster. Kiden has no reason not to trust her, jogs down the end and pushes herself up on tiptoes to throw back the lid.

    Whatever Laura was doing, it worked—this place is a goldmine. She reaches in with both hands, pulls out an untouched baguette with one hand and half a packet of chips with the other, and pauses to admire them. The bread's still soft on the baguette—it can't even be a day old.