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cmk418 for hosting a special ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
hardtime100 challenge for Friday's International Women's Day! It was a great idea and generated some amazing women-centric drabbles. If you haven't already, check them out HERE under the "ch 132 women of Oz" tag.
While trying to come up with ideas for my drabbles, I was reminded of a Claire/Gloria/Diane drabble I had written long ago. Initially, I was unable to locate it, but then I realized that I hadn't written it forhardtime100, but for a Drabble Tree instead. Specifically, the 2013 "Waiter, There's an Oz Drabble Tree in My Soup" challenge, an occasion that marks the very first time I wrote Oz fic.
(I've been writing Oz fic for six years now? Whaaat?)
Anyway, I tracked it down, and it still put a smile on my face, so I thought I'd re-post it here. :-)
******
Claire walked into the breakroom with a heavy sigh and poured herself a cup of coffee.
Gloria and Diane looked up from their conversation. “Rough shift?” Gloria asked.
“The usual shit,” Claire replied. “O’Reily was giving me a hard time.”
“I’ll bet,” Diane said under her breath.
Claire glared at her. “But I did have the pleasure of breaking up Keller and Beecher.”
“For fucking or fighting?”
With a roll of her eyes, Claire answered, “I can’t tell the difference anymore.”
“O’Reily, Keller, Beecher,” Gloria murmured, shaking her head.
Claire grinned. “Marry, fuck, kill.”
“Marry Beecher, fuck Keller, kill O’Reily,” said Diane quickly. “That was just too easy.”
“I disagree,” retorted Claire. “Kill Beecher, fuck O’Reily, marry Keller.”
“You would kill Beecher?”
“Yeah, a mercy-killing,” explained Claire. “What about you, Dr. Nathan? I bet you’d marry O’Reily, fuck Beecher, kill Keller.”
“Why do you say that?”
Claire raised an eyebrow and smirked. Quickly, a heated discussion followed, voices overlapping as rumors collided with secret desires. None of the women noticed the arrival of additional bodies into the room and were startled when someone yelled out, “Hey, why are you ladies so worked up?”
The three women turned and looked into the faces of McManus, Murphy, and Father Mukada. Then they looked at each other and burst into laughter.
The game was over, and they knew better than to have a second round.
cmk418 for hosting a special hardtime100 challenge for Friday's International Women's Day! It was a great idea and generated some amazing women-centric drabbles. If you haven't already, check them out HERE under the "ch 132 women of Oz" tag.While trying to come up with ideas for my drabbles, I was reminded of a Claire/Gloria/Diane drabble I had written long ago. Initially, I was unable to locate it, but then I realized that I hadn't written it for
hardtime100, but for a Drabble Tree instead. Specifically, the 2013 "Waiter, There's an Oz Drabble Tree in My Soup" challenge, an occasion that marks the very first time I wrote Oz fic.(I've been writing Oz fic for six years now? Whaaat?)
Anyway, I tracked it down, and it still put a smile on my face, so I thought I'd re-post it here. :-)
******
Claire walked into the breakroom with a heavy sigh and poured herself a cup of coffee.
Gloria and Diane looked up from their conversation. “Rough shift?” Gloria asked.
“The usual shit,” Claire replied. “O’Reily was giving me a hard time.”
“I’ll bet,” Diane said under her breath.
Claire glared at her. “But I did have the pleasure of breaking up Keller and Beecher.”
“For fucking or fighting?”
With a roll of her eyes, Claire answered, “I can’t tell the difference anymore.”
“O’Reily, Keller, Beecher,” Gloria murmured, shaking her head.
Claire grinned. “Marry, fuck, kill.”
“Marry Beecher, fuck Keller, kill O’Reily,” said Diane quickly. “That was just too easy.”
“I disagree,” retorted Claire. “Kill Beecher, fuck O’Reily, marry Keller.”
“You would kill Beecher?”
“Yeah, a mercy-killing,” explained Claire. “What about you, Dr. Nathan? I bet you’d marry O’Reily, fuck Beecher, kill Keller.”
“Why do you say that?”
Claire raised an eyebrow and smirked. Quickly, a heated discussion followed, voices overlapping as rumors collided with secret desires. None of the women noticed the arrival of additional bodies into the room and were startled when someone yelled out, “Hey, why are you ladies so worked up?”
The three women turned and looked into the faces of McManus, Murphy, and Father Mukada. Then they looked at each other and burst into laughter.
The game was over, and they knew better than to have a second round.
