Christmas Drabbles for Ael and Moose

[crossover_chick]

Well, Ael just posted the fic she wrote me for Christmas, so let me return the favor -- and get Moose's up while we're at it. They each get two drabbles:

martyfan:

“I am the very model of a modern Major-General! I’ve information vegetable, animal, and mineral! I know the kings of England. . . .”
Jack stared at the scene before him, then turned to Victoria. “Okay, how much are you paying Daniel to dress up like a Prior, in sparkly pink underpants, and do the Macarena while reciting Gilbert and Sullivan?”
“One thousand bucks,” Vicky said, grinning evilly. “I think it’ll be worth it to see the look on Ael’s face.” She shrugged. “Besides, I broke even – Sam paid me back after I brought her that crate of oranges to send to Rodney.”

“It’s not lemons.”
“No.”
“You’re sure it’s not lemons.”
“It’s not lemons.”
“You’re absolutely positive it’s not lemons.”
“Just open the goddamn box, Rodney.”
“. . . . It’s oranges.”
“Which are not lemons. I think the lemons come next month.”
“Next month?”
“Didn’t you see the flyer? She signed you up for the ‘Fruit of the Month’ club.”
“She what?!”
“Call me when you get a shipment of grapefruit.”
“. . . . At least this time they’re not tied to DeLoreans.”
“Oh yeah, that reminds me – Merry Christmas, Rodney! Best trilogy of all time, now on DVD!”
“I hate you all.”
“We can live with that.”


anonymoose_au:

A flaming object fell from the sky, headed straight for the desert outside the small town of Roswell, New Mexico. It landed with a loud thud, sending up a small cloud of sand. As the dust cleared, three figures were seen nearby, moving slowly toward the crash site. They stared down at the wreckage for a moment, appraising it. Then the tallest one spoke.
“I told you it was a weather balloon, George.”
“I could have sworn. . . . Well, thanks anyway, Doc.”
“Come on, Dad, you’d freak out if you met the real thing.”
“Only if they were carrying hair dryers!”

“You shouldn’t use contractions.”
“You just used one right there, your Majesty.”
“I mean in writing. It clutters up the page.”
“. . . . Are you sure you’re not mad yet?”
“What, what?! I never!”
“You never what?”
“I’m just trying to help you, you know!”
“I don’t need help. I’ve written a very successful novel. People like A Match Made In Space.”
“I still say you shouldn’t use contractions. And as I’m the king--”
“I’m an American. We seceded from you more than a few centuries ago.”
“But – but I’m the king!”
“Go bother Harry.”
“Fine. Conceited American. . . .”
“Stuck-up Brit.”
“Boys, please. . . .”


Hope you guys enjoy! Merry Christmas! :D