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4 original fiction drabbles

A/N Written for 100 drabbles of summer 2012
Author:  captain91
Fandom: original fiction
Characters:  Ashton, Ariella

I clapped my hands. "Alright, two scouts to each of the visible villages, try to stay out of sight. Do not, I repeat do not make contact with the locals. Return with reports on food stores, health and defences. Roll out!"

Nobody moved. Not a single eye flickered my way. I was invisible to them, to their culture. I kicked the dusty hilltop, blowing down my nose. Disease ravaged their world, why couldn't they change their morals?

I looked at my brother, hopelessness filling me. "Tell them."

They jumped straight on their mounts, galloping off. Typical! They listened to him.

-- ,
I watched him strip off, I should look away. My brother! Adopted brother he always reminded me, but still, was it right to feel this way?

Just in his tatty boxers he flashed me a cheeky grin, red hair falling across his eyes. "Come on in!" he yelled, as he barrelled for the water, muscles in his back bunching and flexing, taut, lean… no! This was wrong.

He turned around, shoulder deep in the clear water, looking at me, such depth to his eyes.

I sighed, standing and stripping to my underwear. Maybe the rules were different for world saviours?

-- 64  a
Jesus! What I would do for a fan. Any fan, big, small, ceiling, hand, something blowing cool air. It's so frigging hot here, I don't know why people voluntarily book holidays in places like this… well, with weather like this. Most people wouldn't book a holiday  in a place with a plague killing the inhabitants, although Essex…

But the weather is so sticky, it's disgusting. My shirt clings to my body, showing off my less than supporting underwear (hey, I wasn't expecting to be kidnapped, don’t judge).

It's the only time the men pay any attention to me. Bloody Neanderthals.

Ash walked into our small grass hut.

"God, I would kill for a shopping centre or cinema to get some air con," I moaned, wiping ineffectually at the sweat running down my face. The cloth was soaked through, just like my clothes.

"I know babe," he murmured padding over to where I slumped. He brushed the back of his hand over my forehead, "You're burning up."

He held a large palm leaf, crumpled almost beyond recognition. I raised an eyebrow, looking into his concerned eyes. "What…"

He started to wave it in front of me. Air. Cool air! A fan!



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