Disclaimer: If we shadows have offended, think but this and all is mended. That you did but slumber'd here while these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme is no more yielding then a dream. Gentles, do not reprehend. If you pardon, we will mend (Shakespeare). I don't own any characters recognizable from X-Men. Marvel, et al, own all rights. No copyright infringement intended.

Author's notes: I originally wrote some of these for a challenge on livejournal. I dropped the challenge due to life and writer's block. Even though I dropped it, I still wanted to do this for personal reasons (now that inspiration has returned). I'm using some of the original prompts I was supposed to do this with combined with some of my own. And yes, that means these will probably be randomly updated. A drabble is a story told in roughly 100 words. They're not meant to be long. They're just bite-sized stories to enjoy for the moment. They're meant to be interpreted how you see fit. Some of them will be loosely related. Most will not be related. Various ratings. Various couplings. Some of these will work themselves into longer fics, most won't. It is what it is.

Dedication: To all my writing buddies in all fandoms. You inspire me. And a special thanks to Sparkle for being my muse in the flesh.

———

Uisce Beatha (Water of Life)
Prompt: beginnings
100 words

"Dinner," he said. "I want you to have dinner with me Friday."

She tried to wrap her mind around that. Friday—that was three days away. He whispered a time in her ear. 8:00. He whispered a place. Bella's. He whispered a command. Don't make me wait. He pressed his lips to hers, a sweet, sweet kiss that tasted of uisce beatha, water of life, Irish whiskey. She wouldn't have figured him for much of a spirits drinker, but she liked the incongruity. She hastily straightened her dress when he pulled away. Dinner, huh? He asked too much of her.