sparklebutch (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sparklebutch) wrote2006-02-28 12:09 am
sparklebutch) wrote2006-02-28 12:09 am
A ficlet with Connor in it
Title: In Albuquerque
Fandom: Angel
Characters: Connor
Type: Silly.
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cinder1013: I have an outline for a fic about the Cinder Defense Force who will kill all the people who are bugging me ...
sparklebutch: Wheeeee!
cinder1013: CDF ... that's not a bad acronym
cinder1013: I can get them t-shirts
sparklebutch: For some reason I see Connor leading a large group of angry men - oh wait, I just saw that on Angel
cinder1013: Oooo, Connor could have been on it
cinder1013: Hmmmm
cinder1013: Maybe he can guest on the team
sparklebutch: Not guest... Reserve duty, I think its called?... You have a large army with lots of people on it; a small group gets to do most of the work, the rest are reserves
cinder1013: Right, he's reserve duty
cinder1013: Much of the time he protects an old lady's dog in Albuquerque
Connor peeks from the mouth of the alley, searching for any danger. The street is empty. He leaps to the middle of the sidewalk, calculating the fastest way to get to his knife if someone drops from above.
Nothing happens.
He signals to the others that the area is clear.
A little old lady waddles after him, her tiny dog prancing by her side on his thin red leash. "I really don't think there's much need for this, dear," she says kindly.
Connor glares. "I must protect the beast, Nana," is all he says.
"Aw, he's no beast. He's a Welsh Corgi," the old lady smiles. She likes it when Connor calls her Nana, it makes her feel closer to him. He's a soldier, stationed here to protect her doggie, but she still sneaks him a cookie on occasion, or tells him he needs a haircut, or to wear a sweater. Even now, she takes a handkerchief out of her purse and reaches up to wipe his face.
"You've got a little smear here, Connor dear."
He shakes his head, stepping back. "It's camouflage paint."
"I can see that, dear. Let me just..." she rubs at his cheek again. Again, he steps back.
"It's supposed to be there - look out!" In a flash he picks the dog in one arm, the other extracting a knife from his sleeve too fast for her to see. The dog sniffs the blade with interest.
"It's just a little cat, dear." She smiles encouragingly. "Put the dog down now."
Connor returns the creature to the ground reluctantly. Albuquerque wasn't as bad as Quar'toth, but it was pretty close.
"He'll just do his business and then we'll be home again," Nana says soothingly. "I made cookies, and you can have them after dinner. You'd like that, wouldn't you."
Connor nods, and they stroll on home.
[end]
Fandom: Angel
Characters: Connor
Type: Silly.
cinder1013: I have an outline for a fic about the Cinder Defense Force who will kill all the people who are bugging me ... sparklebutch: Wheeeee!cinder1013: CDF ... that's not a bad acronymcinder1013: I can get them t-shirtssparklebutch: For some reason I see Connor leading a large group of angry men - oh wait, I just saw that on Angelcinder1013: Oooo, Connor could have been on itcinder1013: Hmmmmcinder1013: Maybe he can guest on the teamsparklebutch: Not guest... Reserve duty, I think its called?... You have a large army with lots of people on it; a small group gets to do most of the work, the rest are reservescinder1013: Right, he's reserve dutycinder1013: Much of the time he protects an old lady's dog in AlbuquerqueConnor peeks from the mouth of the alley, searching for any danger. The street is empty. He leaps to the middle of the sidewalk, calculating the fastest way to get to his knife if someone drops from above.
Nothing happens.
He signals to the others that the area is clear.
A little old lady waddles after him, her tiny dog prancing by her side on his thin red leash. "I really don't think there's much need for this, dear," she says kindly.
Connor glares. "I must protect the beast, Nana," is all he says.
"Aw, he's no beast. He's a Welsh Corgi," the old lady smiles. She likes it when Connor calls her Nana, it makes her feel closer to him. He's a soldier, stationed here to protect her doggie, but she still sneaks him a cookie on occasion, or tells him he needs a haircut, or to wear a sweater. Even now, she takes a handkerchief out of her purse and reaches up to wipe his face.
"You've got a little smear here, Connor dear."
He shakes his head, stepping back. "It's camouflage paint."
"I can see that, dear. Let me just..." she rubs at his cheek again. Again, he steps back.
"It's supposed to be there - look out!" In a flash he picks the dog in one arm, the other extracting a knife from his sleeve too fast for her to see. The dog sniffs the blade with interest.
"It's just a little cat, dear." She smiles encouragingly. "Put the dog down now."
Connor returns the creature to the ground reluctantly. Albuquerque wasn't as bad as Quar'toth, but it was pretty close.
"He'll just do his business and then we'll be home again," Nana says soothingly. "I made cookies, and you can have them after dinner. You'd like that, wouldn't you."
Connor nods, and they stroll on home.
[end]
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