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This is my first completed Star Trek work of fiction. I fear for my own sanity sometimes.
Title: Brush Up Against Me
Category: slash/crack
Characters: K/S
I am so so sorry...
The tooth brushes were lined up in their holders. One balanced bolt upright, despite the fact that the hole was a tad overlarge for it's skinny, faintly green handle. The other two were more disheveled. One might even say their stance were rakish and in the case of the gold toothbrush, even cocky. The gold one sighed, longing for adventure.
The green handled brush pondered the gold. "You are bored."
"Damn right," its dental friend agreed. "You see more activity than me, at exactly 0700 hours, 1200 and 1800, every day. I'm lucky if I get a dry brush twice a day. And I fear I may be replaced soon," he added mournfully, contemplating the ragged rip in the paper covering his user had never completely removed.
"Oh quit your bellyaching, my bristles are falling out," Blue complained bitterly. "I'm a toothbrush, not a torture device."
Silence reigned, briefly until Green broke it, his voice conveying faint concern. "You do not truly believe you could be replaced as a result of such triviality?"
Gold sighed dramatically. "The universe is a cold and harsh mistress. Any of us are like worn nylon, easily broken and bent to be tossed into the disposal bin on a whim."
"Well someone woke up gloomy," Blue observed sarcastically.
"I do not understand the analogy of harsh mistresses and worn nylon, perhaps elaboration is in order?" Green queried politely, knowing full well that Gold hates it when he's taken too seriously.
"You. Just don't. Understand," Gold said, with dramatic hitching pauses.
"For crying-" Blue grumbled, flopping from one side to the other, facing away from the other two. "Wake me when something happens. Make out, even, put us all out of our misery."
"Make?" Gold stuttered.
"Out?" Green said, sounding equally perplexed. "I fail to-"
"Understand?" Gold added, laughing, leaning closer to Green.
"Indeed."
And if Green shifted his perfectly vertical stance in an echoing direction, well, who was to see but them?
Title: Brush Up Against Me
Category: slash/crack
Characters: K/S
I am so so sorry...
The tooth brushes were lined up in their holders. One balanced bolt upright, despite the fact that the hole was a tad overlarge for it's skinny, faintly green handle. The other two were more disheveled. One might even say their stance were rakish and in the case of the gold toothbrush, even cocky. The gold one sighed, longing for adventure.
The green handled brush pondered the gold. "You are bored."
"Damn right," its dental friend agreed. "You see more activity than me, at exactly 0700 hours, 1200 and 1800, every day. I'm lucky if I get a dry brush twice a day. And I fear I may be replaced soon," he added mournfully, contemplating the ragged rip in the paper covering his user had never completely removed.
"Oh quit your bellyaching, my bristles are falling out," Blue complained bitterly. "I'm a toothbrush, not a torture device."
Silence reigned, briefly until Green broke it, his voice conveying faint concern. "You do not truly believe you could be replaced as a result of such triviality?"
Gold sighed dramatically. "The universe is a cold and harsh mistress. Any of us are like worn nylon, easily broken and bent to be tossed into the disposal bin on a whim."
"Well someone woke up gloomy," Blue observed sarcastically.
"I do not understand the analogy of harsh mistresses and worn nylon, perhaps elaboration is in order?" Green queried politely, knowing full well that Gold hates it when he's taken too seriously.
"You. Just don't. Understand," Gold said, with dramatic hitching pauses.
"For crying-" Blue grumbled, flopping from one side to the other, facing away from the other two. "Wake me when something happens. Make out, even, put us all out of our misery."
"Make?" Gold stuttered.
"Out?" Green said, sounding equally perplexed. "I fail to-"
"Understand?" Gold added, laughing, leaning closer to Green.
"Indeed."
And if Green shifted his perfectly vertical stance in an echoing direction, well, who was to see but them?