Prompts: Whump: broken heart, M/M/M, Wild Card: crack: high on cold meds/unknowingly high, Character Study: Biggie: Books, Missing scene/episode Tag
This is my first ever bingo... some of the fics are a bit out of character I'm afraid, but it's a new fandom for me too. Please be gentle! Helpful criticism will be applied before I archive on ff.net.
Title: The Night Descending
Prompt: Whump: broken heart
Summary: Post-series. Kate finds comfort in an unlikely person.
The night air was cool, but not unreasonably so – not after the stifling hot day that they'd had. It was refreshing, but Kate shivered a little and buttoned up her sweater. She used to it yet; she wasn't used to the day and night temperature changes on the surface and she found it hard to get warm. With a sigh, she sat on one of the deck chairs on the rooftop garden and sunk into it, closing her eyes. At last she was alone, away from the curious – questioning – looks of her co-workers.
They were concerned.
She'd come up to the surface and not said anything about why she'd returned except that it was permanent. Her and Garris had broken up; she pretended it was mutual, but it wasn't. He said that she was too young for him, too immature. Just because she didn't want to have his babies and move in with his parents as was custom in Hollow Earth, she supposed. Because she was too fierce – because she wasn't a good girl, like he wanted. Okay; she'd run into that with men on the surface too, it wasn't just Garris. She thought he'd liked that about her, and he'd certainly had a taming effect on her.
Maybe that wasn't all of it. A little while after arriving an old flame of his whom he'd thought had died returned from beyond the grave. She was everything Kate wasn't – pleasant and polite, educated and diplomatic.
The sun was going down over the horizon, sending up a blaze of glorious colour, and Kate had not seen a sunset in some time so she was trying to enjoy it though bitter thoughts of Garris distracted her.
Suddenly the door creaked open and she sat up with a start, wiping a sleeve across her eyes in case there were tears. Her eye-liner smudged, but it was not overly obvious. Nikola noticed and paused.
“Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize there was anyone up here...” started Tesla, looking her over, “I was just going to enjoy this bottle and watch the night descending.”
“Would you like to join me. That is, would you mind if I joined you? I'll share.”
“I've never been much of a wine drinker.”
“Ah, it's Riesling, you'll like it fine,” he winked and fished around the rooftop garden for drinking vessels. He had a ceramic wine glass of his own stashed, and he managed to find a small tin coffee mug that was fairly clean. Being a gentleman he gave Kate the glass, full to the brim, and took the mug for himself.
“So, you're back on the surface then?”
“Yes.” She took a good, long draught, finishing most of the glass in one go. Nikola refilled it for her.
“I take it things didn't get serious with what's-his-name.”
“Garris.” Her tone told Nikola all he needed to know about the affair. When you get to a certain age people become easier and easier to read.
“Yes, well, no loss. Plenty of good men up here on the surface.”
“You're a catch Miss Freelander, any man would be glad to have you.”
“Did you just make a pass at me, Vlad?”
“Maybe,” he grinned into his mug.
“It's appreciated,” she drew her knees up to her chest, “You know, I don't usually get so worked up. Usually I take this sort of thing in stride. Whatevs, ya'know?”
Nikola nodded, though he wasn't 100% clear on the meaning of “whatevs” he got the gist.
“I thought Garris was different. He brought out a different side of me... something I didn't know I had.”
Nikola tilted his head, “Come again?”
“I've never experienced that sort of passion for a cause. I mean, here, in the Sanctuary a bit, when I began here,” it seemed like a small age ago, “but the plight of the Hollow Earth abnormals in Praxis and on the surface really affected me. I saw suffering, discrimination, first-hand. I felt for them.”
“There's suffering all over but remarkably little that can be done.”
“Yeah,” Kate said, “That doesn't mean we shouldn't try. Every little bit gets us closer to change.”
“I don't know, I tend to just give up,” Nikola shrugged, and chuckled, “But that's what I admire in you. You're a fighter, Freelander, and a survivor.” He looked pointedly at her, “You'll get through this and be back on your game in no-time.”
“Yeah,” Kate grinned broadly, the last of the evening shadows playing on her face, “I guess I will be.”
Warnings: EXPLICIT M/M/M Threesome... slash... cussing... rimming... PWP... voyeurism... did you expect anything less?
Summary: Time-line: After “The Five” and before “Sleepers”. I don't know if I was trying to write sexy or funny but either way it's mostly pr0n.
Nikola's touch was electric along his spine, sending a tingling sensation from the lower back, where his hand rested, all the way up to his brain. Or at least that's what it felt like – it could have been the booze. No matter. Will's entire body was singing with the touch that ran down from his back to cup his ass and squeeze it appreciatively. He chuckled, but that was stopped when Henry covered his mouth with his own, kissing fiercely. Sure, every reader of Twilight might have a fantasy about being in the middle of a menage-à-trois with a vampire and a werewolf, but here Will was living it, on his own bed – and loving every minute.
Henry began to trail kisses from the side of his mouth down his neck, greedily nibbling at his collarbone and sliding his tongue down to pull a hypersensitive nipple into his mouth. Will moaned into it, suddenly aware that they were all three wearing too many clothes. So far, only his own shirt, Nikola's fancy coat, and all of their shoes had been discarded. He paused to pull Henry's shirt over his head, and Nikola's eyes fell on the pierced nipples with interest.
“When did you get those done?”
“A while ago.”
“Did it hurt?” Nikola asked, venturing to touch and tug at the bits of metal jammed through the tender nubs.
Henry gasped, “Not – not as much as you'd think.”
“Does that feel good?” There was a toothy grin, and then Nikola was kissing Henry's pierced nipples as Henry had been kissing Will's, taking them into his mouth and toying with them. In the meantime, Will worked on unbuttoning Nikola's shirt, from bottom to top, and then shimmying out of his pants and boxer-shorts.
“Woah now,” Henry gasped, watching Will, “Are we doing that now?”
“We've come this far,” Will reasoned, kneeling on the bed.
“Good point,” Henry paused to remove his own socks, pants and underwear, and so did Nikola – though he was free-balling and had no undies to discard.
“Well,” Nikola coughed lightly, “Now that there's nothing stopping us...” he descended upon Will's cock with gusto.
“Oh-OH!” Will gasped, and quite suddenly Henry was behind him, spreading his cheeks and sliding his tongue from the top of his ass down to his puckered hole. He played with his tongue in it, causing Will to shudder and open to him at the same time as he thrust into Nikola' s sweet mouth.
Nikola continued to suck and tug until Will's cock was rock-hard and throbbing almost painfully. Then Nikola pulled away, leaving Will to whimper, and Henry stopped his ministrations to probe with a finger. Will arched into it, gasping. Nikola, meanwhile, stuck his finger into his own mouth, wetting it down well, and then began to stroke Henry along the fleshy bit halfway between his cock and balls. Henry moaned and thrust back towards Nikola who continued to probe, reaching his other hand down to clasp his cock and tug at it, massaging the head between his thumb and forefinger.
“Fuck.” Henry gritted out, thrusting his ass towards Nikola.
“That's the idea,” Nikola obliged, pausing for a moment to lube his cock and then press it into Henry's hot, tight ass. Henry made a sound halfway between a yowl and a whimper and thrust his ass towards the pulsating, pleasuring penis. Nikola passed the lube forward and Henry, getting with the rhythm, smeared himself up and thrust into Will without preamble. Will cried out and fell against the pillows, lifting himself up and glaring back at Henry. “Some warning would have been nice.”
“Sorry.” Henry gasped out, “Felt too good.”
“Aaah... ah... yeah...” Will agreed as he was thrust into again. It really did. Henry reached around to clasp Will's cock in a hand, pumping it in time with his own thrusts, all set to the impeccable timing of the most experienced of the three, Nikola.
“Holy fucking omigod!” gasped out Henry, who had by far the best position. It was almost too much, but he held on as long as he could, desperately, as he was stimulated from both directions. He was a conduit – directing electricity from Nikola to Will – and back again.
“I'm getting close.”
“Oh no you don't!” Nikola hissed into his ear. Henry felt a prickling sensation along the back of his neck where Nikola was biting into him, creating a tiny cut and then lapping at the blood that pooled there.
“Agh!” Henry gasped, his face for a second transforming into a muzzle at the pain, eyes flashing gold momentarily. They simmered down and he snarled at Nikola. “I thought you didn't need to feed!”
“Sorry. Just got excited, is all.”
Henry had to admit, it had felt good, and he was fighting the urge himself to bite the tempting neck in front of him. He settled for kissing it, nibbling slightly on Will's ear as he went along.
Before much longer Henry felt himself coming, and Nikola, feeling the tension in the body in front of him, allowed himself to release as well. With a few harsh tugs Henry coaxed Will's seed out of him, spilling it across the bedspread even as he spilled his own across Will's ass when he withdrew, his body singing with a cooling electricity.
“That was very nice,” said Tesla, falling onto his back with a sigh.
“Indeed it was,” agreed Magnus, sitting on a nearby chair with her legs crossed, watching. Her eyes glittered mischievously.
Henry grabbed up the sheets around himself, as if she hadn't seen it all already.
“How long were you watching us?”
Prompt: Wild Card: Crack: High on cold meds/unknowingly high (because there wasn't an MPreg wildcard)
Warnings: cold medicine abuse
Summary: Set just after "The Five". Magnus just wants to make it through this one meeting... just this ONE...
“You sure you're up for this?” Will regarded Magnus critically, taking in her weary expression, raw nose, and the spots of high colour on her cheeks. She'd been hacking her lungs out all morning and attempting to hide it from her staff, conveniently forgetting that she'd hired a former detective.
“I'm fine, it's only a cold.”
“A bad cold.”
“Admit it, you've got the same flu Henry had.”
“Okay, I probably have the flu.”
“I took something for it. I can power through this meeting and then I'll get some rest.”
“Yes. Immediately. The other heads-of-houses have been bothering me to meet the new protegé.” She gave him a twisted smile, ruined by a cough, “Unless you're nervous about meeting them.”
“I'll be fine.”
The other heads-of-houses signed on. Bangkok first, followed by New York, Sydney, Baku, Lisbon, Lima, Amsterdam and so forth. Eventually Helen and Will were in a room full of screens.
“Sit down at least.” Will hissed softly, but she stubbornly shook her head and stayed standing.
It was a standard bi-weekly check-in type meeting. She spoke of meeting Nikola in Rome and his involvement with the Cabal, and then turned the table over to anyone who might have something pressing. The Tokyo Sanctuary was having some difficulties with the Japanese government – not the first time – but they seemed to be working it out and Magnus agreed to talk to the UN about some political leverage there.
The final order of business was introducing Will:
“As you are aware,” Magnus said, “we have a new staff member here in Old City. This is Will Zimmerman, he has a background in psychiatry and detective work. Please welcome him, and if you have anything that you think you have a case which may be useful for do not hesitate to contact him.”
“Hi,” Will said, waving slightly to them all, “It is nice to finally meet some of the rest of the network.”
There were murmurs of greeting and variations of “welcome”.
“I think you will find William to be a handsome asset to our work here, not to mention handsome unto himself.”
Will looked sharply at his boss whose unfocused eyes shone a touch too bright.
“I think you ladies will agree, and you gents who swing that way too, eh?” she winked at one of the screens towards the top right of the display though Will didn't catch any response from the heads-of-houses there; he was too busy staring incredulously at Magnus.
“Back when I was young not everyone believed that young William's area of expertise was a real medical science. It tended to be looked down upon.” She laughed as if it were a joke, “however since then neuroscience and imaging technology has provided concrete evidence supporting psychiatry as medicine. That, and his work with the police in forensics, make him a valuable addition, and I believe he will very much come in handy with what we do here, both in this sanctuary and in your own sanctuaries if you want to make use of him. I know I'll be making good use of him.”
She was rambling at this point, but didn't seem to notice. Clearly the meds were kicking in. She swayed ever so slightly and Will made a quick decision on the spot, a skill which she would later be appreciative of as well.
“I think that just about wraps it up,” he said, casually sliding a desk chair towards her in case her legs gave out, “does anyone have any specific cases they want me to look into?”
He waited a moment; not long enough perhaps for anyone to think of anything, but long enough to make it look like he tried, “No? If you think of something, you know how to contact me by phone, or e-mail if it's not too pressing...”
“Don't forg-” Magnus said, breaking off into a coughing fit, “don't forget... please be sensitive of timezone differences.”
There were murmurs of agreement and goodbyes then everyone began signing off, one-by-one the screens going blank.
Just as the last screen flicked out, Magnus swayed dramatically to the right and she caught herself on the chair.
“Whoa now,” Will stopped the chair from sliding away and then hoisted her up onto it. Her face was facing the ground so her hair covered her expression and she breathed slowly and deeply against the growing rattle in her chest.
“What did you take?”
“It had dextromethorphan.”
“Uh-huh. How much did you take?”
“Don'know,” her words were starting to slur, “given my physiology I usually need more than most so I had two...” she held up two fingers on one hand, “no... three...” she held up one finger of the other hand at the same time, and then a second, “four? Maybe?” she was looking confusedly at her fingers, each hand in a peace-sign, cross-eyed. Will sighed; his boss was so medicated she was high as a kite.
“Seems like it's making you drowsy.” Understatement much? “Time to lie down?”
“Couch,” she said, “in m'office. Want to lie there.”
“Sounds good.” Also, without stairs or an elevator involved it was preferable. He helped her out of the chair and attempted to support her as she walked.
Helen pushed him away and pouted, “I'mnot invalid.” Only then she lurched into the door jamb and Will grasped her arm.
“No, you aren't, but humour me.”
“Wait.” She paused in the hallway, “Henry's lab. I promis'd I'd meet with him today to change some secur'ty protocols and passw'rds.”
“I'm sure he won't mind if you skip it tonight and talk to him tomorrow.”
“You're right. Won't r'member passw'rds tom'rrow if I do it now. Heh.”
“Let's get you laying down...”
“Laying down would be nice,” she smiled brightly, evidently taking it in a sexual sense. Who knew Helen Magnus was such a pervert once her inhibitions were gone?
They were very nearly there and she was leaning very heavily on him by this point, her legs going weak and a slight trembling taking her body. Just then, Ashley rounded the corner.
“Mom? Will?” she looked confused, “I needed to talk to you... uh mom... are you okay?”
“Jus' fine dear,” she said, voice thick with congestion, “Watson here was jus' takin' me to bed.” She giggled and winked, “If only there weren't so many Wil-o-wisps flying about. Did they escape the enclosure again or did someone let them loose to play? No matter, so long as the poltergeist is still contained.”
“He is contained isn't he?” Helen grasped Ashley's arm fearfully, looking about into the corners of the room.
“Yes mom, he is,” Ashley looked to Will for explanation.
“That's good Maggie, very good.” She sagged between them and Will hauled her into an almost upright position, shaking his head. “Flu,” he said by way of explanation.
“Thought so, she looked peaky but kept insisting it was jet-lag from Rome. Did she overdo the dex again?”
“Seems like,” said Will, curious about the “again” in that sentence.
“Fever?” asked Ashley and Will, though he already could confirm that from supporting her, felt Magnus' forehead with his spare hand and nodded.
“You go fix some tea, I'll get her on the couch.” Ashley directed, but when Will let Magnus go Ashley was overcome with the dead weight and lurched, trying to support her mother who was presently pawing at the air like a kitten chasing a moth.
“Actually, reverse that, she seriously overdid the dex.”
“Oh yeah,” Will agreed and hauled his boss into his arms bridal-style.
“I'll be back in a sec.” Ashley said, scampering off to fetch some herbs from the big-guy and fix up a mug of tea.
Meanwhile Will hauled a weakly-protesting Helen into her office and deposited her on the couch. Rather than turning on the overhead lights he turned on a few lamps and pulled the curtains shut, enveloping the room in a comfortable darkness, and then quickly lit the gas fireplace. The window had been open so the room was chilly, evidence that Magnus had been suffering with this longer than she'd admitted. He set the phone to go straight to voice-mail and then pulled the afghan off the back of the couch and piled up two pillows at the end where she sat, swaying from left to right, while she watched him with detached interest.
“Lie down,” he patted the pillows.
“Why James,” Helen panted, “what a romantic set up! But what about your research assistant?”
“She won't come in,” Will said, “And this isn't meant to be romantic. You're ill, you need to rest.”
“Oh, are we playing doctor?” she giggled, “I love this game, but isn't it usually the other way 'round? No matter, I think you 'ought to do a full body examination doct'r Watson.”
Helen kicked off her shoes and began peeling away her pantyhose.
“No, but you should get comfortable.”
“Yes, yes, of course, comfortable...” she tossed off her cardigan onto the pile with the shoes and pantyhose and then began unbuttoning her blouse. Will almost stopped her, but she had a tank-top on underneath so he allowed it, figuring that she would be more comfortable without several layers of clothing.
Then she reached back to unfasten her skirt.
“Lie down...” Will advised, manually swinging her legs to one side and pressing her flat onto the couch, her head falling onto the pillows.
“Why, of course...” she agreed, all doe-eyed and pleasant. Without warning she arched towards him and began to kiss him, her mouth hot and her lips cracked with fever.
“Hey, hey...” he pulled away and covered her quickly with the afghan, “You need to rest.”
Just then Ashley returned with a tray. She raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything, having just caught the tail-end of that conversation.
Helen pushed off the afghan, “It's too hot.”
“You have a fever.” Ashley explained, setting down the tea tray on the desk and coming up next to the couch alongside Will, “And you took too much dex. Did you take anything else?”
She shook her head, “No. Didn' wan' be too drowsy.”
“Got you some ASA then.” Ashley said, passing the pills over. Will encouraged her to take them with a swallow of water, and then accepted a steaming mug from Ashley.
“Time for some tea?”
Magnus stared into the mug and then her face scrunched up, “Not tea...”
“You're refusing tea?”
“That is not tea, it's nasty,” she said petulantly, like a child, “Did you at least sweeten it?”
Roles reversed, Ashley said, “You wouldn't let me have sugar when I was little and had to drink this stuff.”
“I used a bit of honey,” she sniffed.
Not nearly enough in Ashley's opinion, and although no amount of honey could completely conceal the godawful flavour of the big-guy's special brew, she nonetheless scampered off to fetch some.
By the time Ashley returned with the honey jar Magnus had drifted off, snoring softly.
“Shh...” Will hissed, closing the door and stepping into the hallway with Ashley.
“God, she's like a sixteen year old on weed for the first time,” he said, rubbing the nape of his neck and looking back distractedly at the door.
“Yeah,” Ashley grinned, “the dex'll do that. It's a cough suppressant; she doesn't want to appear sick in meetings, but it makes her grabby.”
“About that,” Will began, and launched into an explanation of what she'd said during the meeting, finishing it with her collapsing onto the chair.
Ashley was clearly amused, “At least that's not as bad as last time.”
“What happened last time?”
“Bronchitis, four years ago. She took a whack of it and got super friendly with this abnormal belonging to a cult with rules about chastity. He was a virgin and totally awkward... left here terrified. Then she demanded that the front foyer be redone in art deco and fainted.”
“Wow. Sounds like good times.”
“You have no idea.”
Title: Northanger Abbey
Prompt: Character Study: Biggie: Books
Warnings: Mentions porn, alcohol, and book burning.
Summary: Post "Metamorphosis". Will stumbles upon Biggie's other guilty secret.
Will was back to normal – more or less – however he still was permitted, sometimes, upon invitation, into the Big Guy's private man-cave. Henry could be found there sometimes, but more often it was Biggie alone or with another abnormal, talking quietly or reading with the ever-present scotch and some old records spinning away on the circa 1970 record player/sound system in all its laminated glory. The Big Guy's recent Pink Floyd kick had given way to classical again – Bach, Will thought – and he was almost loathe to knock on the door and interrupt the classical interlude for something as petty as “where did you leave the top half of the blender”; however, toothless baby pterodactyls, in absence of parents who would chew and then hork up their meals, needed their food to go through a blender before they could digest it, and Will had been assigned the 9pm baby Pterodactyl feedings this week. Oh, joy of all joys.
Will knocked first, but the Bach was cranked right up so he opened the door a crack, and then a little more. The Big Guy had been sitting on the couch, his reading glasses perched on his nose. He shot up and fumbled with his book, quickly shoving it under a cushion.
Will raised an eyebrow, “Sorry for interrupting you.” He turned down the music a few decibels, “I just need to know where the blender is.”
“In the dishwasher.”
“Oh, of course. I didn't think to look there. It's dishwasher safe?”
“Well, I've been hand-washing it so far, but that seems much easier.”
Biggie grunted and nodded, but Will didn't move to leave.
“So, what's the guilty pleasure?”
He wasn't about to say.
“I saw you hide that book and it didn't look like porn.”
It might as well have been... that would have been easier to explain than the book he'd just shoved away. He just shook his head and grunted.
“C'mon, I won't tell anyone.”
“Leave it,” He growled quietly, “Go feed the babies.”
“Fine, fine.” Will said; only, he wasn't about to leave it at that. On his way out he “accidentally” bumped the record player, sending the needle skittering over Bach, scratching the record's surface in a way the Big Guy couldn't tolerate. He stood up quickly and went to rescue it and, during his moment of distraction, Will deftly hopped the couch and grabbed the cushion, looking beneath it. There was a big, fat volume with a prim looking lady on the cover and the words The Complete Works of Jane Austen.
“What?” Will stopped, confusion written across his face.
Biggie quickly jumped on it, scooping up the book and hiding it in his furry arms while he glared accusingly at Will. “If you tell anyone... I swear...”
Will held up his hands defensively, “Hey, don't worry, I'm not one to judge.”
“You'll keep it quiet?”
“Cross my heart, but you have to tell me... which is your favourite?”
“Mine is Pride and Prejudice, but I'm boring... plus I've only seen the movies.”
“I enjoy Emma every time, but my favourite is probably Northanger Abbey.”
“I haven't read that one.”
“You should, it's very clever.”
“I think I'll add it to my reading list.”
The Big Guy visibly relaxed.
“Austen isn't bad, she's real lit. I would have been concerned if you were reading Twilight.”
“Urgh, does anyone read that garbage?”
“Kate's got a copy of New Moon.”
“Remind me to make her a list...”
“And the next time we need some firestarter...”
Title: Double Helix
Prompt: Missing Scene/Episode Tag
Summary: Missing scene from "Out of the Blue". Helen Druitt at home.
Helen Druitt didn't feel right; she wasn't even sure what felt right anymore. All she knew is that she hadn't felt right for quite some time. A strange sort of ennui had crept into her being, a creak in her bones and an ache in her soul. Unbidden thoughts came into her mind constantly and she didn't know what to make of the paintings she had done. It was as if she had woken up one morning in the body of an android – she went through the motions of life, but without consciousness. This place meant little to her, nothing made sense anymore. She wondered if she should see her therapist again, though she had no recollection of seeing her previously. Maybe – not yet.
This may pass still. Perhaps she was ill? She did not feel physically sick... it could just be stress, or a ghost of stress, even. It was about this time last year when things had really fallen apart between her and John, right around their anniversary.
It was morning. She had slept in her bed the whole night for once without waking up and wandering down to the couch. The cats greeted her, demanding food an attention. Kate hopped up onto the bed and deposited a gift for her – a limp starling with a thin trail of blood coming out of its beak, the poor thing's head twisted nearly all the way around.
“Lovely,” she said, grimacing, “Thank you Kate.”
The petite black cat mewled in response and headbutted her affectionately. Henry pressed into her as well, but the big guy at the foot of the bed was too aged too hunt and too dignified for the cuddle-fest which the other two were engaged in.
Kate was drooling on her duvet and Helen decided this was enough. She lifted herself out of her bed and pulled a comfortable dark blue knit off a chair, wrapping it around herself over a tank-top and flannel pyjama bottoms printed with frolicking rabbits. Even that felt wrong – shouldn't she be in a power suit and heels, or a perhaps a nightgown if she were sleeping? All her clothes seemed so... casual. On the other hand, she had little need for heels with her work; slippers would suffice. With this in mind, she headed downstairs at 7:03am, without dressing, to make coffee. While it was brewing she briefly contemplated breakfast, but decided it could wait for now; this was abnormally early for her to be awake, and yet this exact time was when her internal clock had been going off for the past several weeks. She began chewing her nails, but it wasn't nearly as satisfying as it ought to have been. The cats demanded food, rubbing between her legs, so she opened a can and divided it up and filled the bowls with dry kibble as well.
Helen Druitt normally took her coffee black – but lately she'd been adding copious amounts of milk because it didn't taste right. It was especially bitter today so she added some sugar as well and sat on a low chair in front of her canvas, staring at a painting. Something about this one was bothering her. She turned on some tunes, something floaty and metaphysical, and stared at the canvas in front of her until her eyes hurt. Then she closed them and breathed – slowly in and out – and when she opened them she was ready. She went to her paints and squeezed out some blue, a deep blue like delft tile, and without further mixing to tone it down and make it look natural, like she normally did, she wet her brush and then dipped it. Lingering for a moment over the top right of the canvas she paused, exhaled, and then began to paint. Spirals within spirals. Double helices. DNA and the sign she recognized as infinity. These images had been haunting her. When she pulled back she wasn't sure whose work this was, but it didn't look like hers. Still... it felt more real than anything else had lately.
Paint still drying, she sat on the couch to stare at it. She went into the kitchen to make some breakfast, lunch nearly, but a knock at the door distracted her. From the hallway and through the glass door she could see her neighbour Abby Zimmerman, heavily pregnant and wielding a basket. The painting forgotten, for now, she went to her.