So... drabbles! -laugh- I've written a few of these, and I think they're kind of fun. Plus they're a nice mental exercise for me, so I can get away from the longer stories. This is just the first one; there'll be more, as soon as I've gotten them cleaned up for posting.

Many of the ones I've already written are SE/Scarlett (not a surprise, I imagine) but some are gen. I do hope you enjoy!

I'm also happy to take requests, though I can make no promises; if I do decide to take them and write them, they'll be anywhere from a few hundred to a thousand words, typically. If you do have a request, please leave your name and number at the tone... okay, no, not really. -laugh- What I ask for in requests are: characters you want to see, and a one-liner. It can be an idea, a situation, or even something really random, like a word... surprise me!

Drabble #1: Chousa (Inquiry)

Summary: Scarlett's used to impertinent questions, but some of them take the cake... (SE/Scarlett)

Some well-meaning newbie asked her, once, why she hadn't thrown over Snake-Eyes for someone prettier… Duke, say. He'd been teasing… somewhat. More curious than anything. She couldn't totally blame the greenshirts for their inquiries—after all, they almost always prefaced it with, "May I ask you a personal question, Scarlett?"

She could always tell it was going to be that sort of question when they called her "Scarlett" rather than "Sergeant."

Was it stupid that she'd said yes? Scarlett didn't particularly think so… especially since she knew perfectly well that if she didn't answer, someone else would be perfectly happy to answer for her. Frat regs were hammered into all of their heads from day one of boot camp, after all, so it was no surprise that the greenshirts always looked faintly, well, green whenever anyone saw her and Snake Eyes holding hands. They didn't do it that often, but they did do it… and she thought that sometimes, Snakes only twined his fingers with hers to see these hard-bodied, cold-eyed, best-of-the-best military boys with their eyes bugging out.

Her relationship with Snake-Eyes was really the single worst-kept secret that the Joes had. And despite her well-meaning teammates, Scarlett suspected that it was probably fraught with as much misinformation as an intentional Cobra leak.

"After all," the greenshirt had continued, his brows tight with puzzlement, "You're so beautiful, Scarlett, ma'am. I mean… what did Snake-Eyes look like before… you know?"

"What do you mean 'you know?' Do you know?" she asked, curiously, finding herself more amused than frankly offended. It wasn't often she got to watch someone cheerfully and earnestly firing off the twenty-one-gun salute for their own funeral.

The greenshirt did the next best thing to fidgeting under her stare. "Well… no, but the… accident, or whatever it was, was really bad, wasn't it? I hear the scarring and the burns were pretty awful, and… they say you've got to be pretty tough, to stick by him when you've got to face… uh… um."

Much to their obvious puzzlement, Scarlett started to laugh. She'd been flattered enough that she'd only felt the need to pound him halfway into the mats during hand-to-hand training that afternoon. He probably wouldn't be able to eat for a few days, though—being kneed in the pancreas did that, she'd heard.

Flattered by him calling her beautiful… yes. But she really didn't think that frank ignorance really deserved a reward.

Snake-Eyes hadn't been a particularly handsome man, Scarlett remembered that—distantly, like the moment of awakening, but like all dreams, it faded against the sharper edges of reality. Oh, she'd been attracted to him, but it had never really been for how he looked. Sometimes, she had to remind herself that he'd ever looked differently than he did at all. Sometimes, all she remembered was sensation—the rasp of five o'clock shadow when she ran her fingers down his cheek, or the way his hair had felt when she'd buried her fingers in it. Or the feel of his lips brushing hers, so soft, so very, very soft, without coarse scarring.

He'd had a nice face, yes, but unremarkably so, without quirk or scar or bumpy nose to show for his military tours. He'd been straight-backed and blond, his hair just slightly longer than regulations demanded, with a razor's cheekbones and a body to die for. He'd had the tan of a man who spent most of his time in the sun, and the tan lines to show that he did it for work, not pleasure. He'd had an incongrous dimple when he smiled, but that smile was as rare as a morpho butterfly. He'd had a downturned mouth, a divet in his chin, and eyes that were so utterly, utterly lonely.

Handsome? Nice-looking. Unremarkable, mostly. That was one thing that he'd had, though: such beautiful, beautiful eyes, sky-blue, shading down to darkness at the center, like the point where dusk hit the ocean. It was the one beauty he'd kept.

Scarlett smiled to herself as Snake Eyes came to pick her up at the training room. When he glanced at the trainee lying curled in a fetal position on the sparring mats, and raised a questioning eyebrow behind his mask, she just shrugged.

He shook his head, and his shoulders dipped in an exaggerated sigh... but she could see from the crinkle of his eyes—he was smiling ruefully, and when he touched her face, it was lightly, and with pride. [You really have to stop doing that,] he signed.

"Oh, please. He'll be fine. It could have been so much worse," she pointed out.

[How?]

She smirked. "He could have asked you."

After a long moment, he gave up on trying not to chuckle, his shoulders shaking, just briefly. He didn't take her hand--not this time--but she felt his fingertips resting gently on the small of her back as he led her out the door.

Scarlett felt her grin widen when he didn't contradict her.

Yes, she'd known that nice, unremarkable face for a few months—liked it, liked the steady, quiet man behind it.

But this scarred, awful face, and the silent man who wore it… she'd known and loved him for much, much longer.

~fin~
April 29, 2009