Title: Stupid
Fandom: CSI:NY
Claim: General Series
Set: 19
Prompt: Hero for Word Count: 190
Summary: A DnA drabble. He lectures her.
Rating: FRC
Notes: Part 1/5. I know. It has one sentence paragraphs. I meant for it to be that way. Enjoy...

fivebyfiction

Title: Villain
Fandom: CSI:NY
Claim: General Series
Set: 19
Prompt: Villain for fivebyfiction
Word Count: 188
Summary: A DnA drabble. She lectures him.
Rating:  FRC
Notes: Part 2/5. Part 1 here. This might be *slightly* confusing. I dunno. It makes sense to me. Any questions, just ask.

Just having discovered the poetry of Henry Vaughn over the great source that is the internet, I write with great satisfaction that I understand. Hooray for me. 

Favorites (I did it in cool old text too, just to keep the mood.)

Title: Hobbes
Author: Izzy burningroom8
Fandom: CSI: NY
Claim: Lindsay Monroe
Set: 9
Prompt: "Beginning" for fivebyfiction
Prompt: "If you are not willing to risk the unusual, you will have to settle for the ordinary" for csi_crimelab 
Word Count: 214
Character: Lindsay Monroe
Rating: FRC (PG)
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary/Notes: This is the product of my goofiness/ boredom/ Big Red/ Eiffel 65. Read at your own risk. And it is very short. You have been warned.

{I wrote this in ten minutes, and critique/comments are appreciated. I made all this stuff up. None of it really happened to me. This is the product of my overactive imagination. Cross posted to my journal and freewriters}


I remember a little girl. Six or seven years old, but that doesn't really matter. She had a strange look in her eye when I first saw her. I didn't know who she was; I still don't, even now. Even as I think about her day and night, I don't remember if the family, those idiotic background noises in a crowded restaurant, called her last name when they came over to my table. They gave me a glare, her a slap, and threw in a dirty look towards the ceiling. They muttered her given name in disgust, as if wondering why God had given them such a child. Such a child. As if there was anything wrong with her. 

I was sitting. Merely sitting in that crowded room, waiting for my boyfriend to show up. Boyfriend then, that is. She popped up out of nowhere, a little stick of a girl. The look in her eyes. A bony white finger pointed towards the empty chair across from me.

 "Is he late?"

She said 'he' so personally, I thought she might have known, somehow known, that Mark had called a few minutes before and delivered a speech about Crime in this City, and how being a few minutes late for our date would make this world a better place.

I had scarcely nodded my head before she blurted out, "Don't leave. Give him a chance."

How could she have known I was thinking about exiting quietly, calling Mark on his cell phone. Calling it quits on the with the excuse of the seven (yes, I had counted) dates that had been cancelled or shortened because of his job, his life. Selfishly forgetting all the laughs, the tears, those hugs and a kiss which ended every successful date we'd ever had. 

My mouth opened to say no, but the family swarm came by to fetch her. They pelted her name, as if bullets, into her. It made me wince at the look on her face. Before I knew it she was gone, the slap she had taken to the side of her face lingering on to haunt me, along with her name. 

I remember that girl as I peek over the side of the crib. After twelve hours of labor, it felt good to stand up with Marks' hands around my waist. I could see them out of the corner of my eye, still white from me squeezing on them so hard. We giggled at the pink sign on the side of the crib, that read in wispy cursive "Baby Pierce". You would think that after five years of marriage and nine months of pregnancy, we would have decided on a name beforehand. 

"Got any ideas?" he whispered in my ear. 

I said her name out loud, surprised at how different it sounded from the little girl's name coming from the mouth of her hostile mother. "Mariana."

He repeated it, testing it out. It sounded so natural, so beautiful coming from him, I knew it was right.

I just watched all my season 1 episodes, and have felt the need to write some Danny/Aiden drabbles. It's either that, or something in the area of Chad/Aiden. Anybody seen Uncle Phil's Diner? I've got "Nerds in Love" on my mind.

I am counting down the hours before some comedian takes a crack at John/Jessica. 

Kudos to whoever does it first. 

And the best. 

I am waiting... (obnoxious song from Snow White) (with obnoxious singer) (who sounds better than Jessica Simpson). 



I can't finish ch. 2 quite yet. Way too much on my mind. And no eggnog in sight.

I am only a quarter-way through writing Ch. 2 and have been assaulted with two plot bunnies. One I can use in IWO, but the other (F/S: six) will have to be a oneshot. If I forget the way I saw them in my brain before they're written, I swear I'll stab myself. They're good ideas and I don't want my procrastination (who, me?) to ruin them. 

Speaking of forgetting, here's the rest of my ideas for Inside Wants Out: 
Ch. 2: "Zoo York", Asshole, Messer.
Ch. 3: Taxi flagging.
Ch. 4: Chocolate, maybe? Nope. Too soon. *headdesk*.
Ch. 5: Sinusitis or whatever the hell the doctors call it, shower.

Drank whole liter of Eggnog in less than fifteen minutes. And still want more. It's addicting, I tell you. Addicting. Like CRACK. Only better (and cheaper too). Not that I would know how much crack costs.... 

My sentiments exactly. 
I'm already dreading school
after the holidays.

Title: Hassle
Fandom: CSI:NY
Claim: Flack/Lindsay
Set: 3
Prompt: Dawn for fivebyfiction
Word Count: 884
Summary: Flack is roped into picking up the new girl at the airport.
Rating: FRC
Notes: Part 1/5 of a Flack/Lindsay prompt set. I've never written a freaking thing before, so con-crit and a general liked it/not is *love*.