Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial with the prompt #FFF303 ~ out of the box. Inspired by last night’s 41st episode of “The Apothecary Diaries.” An imagined conversation, a continuity filler. Suirei, Shisui and Maomao in between.
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Fandom: The Apothecary Diaries
Characters: Suirei, Shisui, mention of Maomao and Jinshi, also Lakan and Shishou
Word count: 787
SUIREI slumped in the corner of the ship, she watched her half sister and the Apothecary Girl huddled together. Suirei was not aware of it, but she looked dangerous. The lantern fire reflected on her blue irises were devilish that were focused solely on the Apothecary Girl.
The ship swayed gently with the moon lighting its way. With Suirei’s left arm dangled to the side while her right was on top of her left knee, she was aware that Maomao paid her small glances, who released an audible sigh that she was keeping for so long. Good thing, the girl was also not prone to seasickness. A small blessing.
So, Maomao, is it all worth it? Is the goddamn resurrection drug worth it following me?
Suirei could only smile inside betraying the lack of expression on her face.
A few minutes later Suirei noticed that Shisui’s head lolled next to Maomao. She didn’t believe it was acting on her sister’s part, god knows, what would happen to them now.
If a high-ranking consort escaped from her post, it would deem as an affront to the emperor. An act of rebellion. But Shisui trained her ladies in waiting well, for all they knew what to do. Besides, they had never been caught. They had people watching their backs.
There was only one miscalculation. The Apothecary Girl was not supposed to be here in the first place. She was on the wrong place at the right time. How curious that her sister found her way to her. Their hands held as their heads were next to each other. They seemed to be very close. To think Maomao used to follow Suiren like a puppy all because she held the key for the immortal drug. It was so easy to lure her. Speak about herbal plants and their medicinal properties and she was scurrying next to you.
A year ago…
“That’s the girl…”
Suirei fiddled with the book she was holding. Shisui stared at her sister then to the person in question. She was dressed up as a servant girl, totally ordinary. Funny thing though that even their own father was not aware of it.
“Well, she’s cute, all right.”
“She’s so smart and, yet, the only thing she talks about is herbal plants and apothecary.”
Shisui laughed at that. Suirei, who was admitted as a court lady, was inconspicuous as Shisui’s present disguise.
“Sounds like you.” Then her face turned serious. “A formidable opponent then. Yes, I heard about her. The Eunuch has marked her as his favourite. She’s doing so many things for him.”
“She followed me one time, cornering me in my own turf, asking me if I have found the correct solution to the immortal drug. One could see how serious she is obtaining it.” She shook her head but it brought a smile to her face.
“Hhmm..” Shisui touched her chin, she had not decided to mingle with Maomao and her friend yet. She was still observing, gauging, committing to their initial plan.
“But we have to be careful. She has powerful backers. For one the Eunuch. Not to mention, the Strategist. Father never likes him at all. The Fox versus the Tanuki.”
“Indeed,” Suirei agreed. “The game has begun. The Eunuch is said to be preparing for the purification.” Her fist clenched at the thought of it. Their father thought that the Eunuch should be out of their way if they wanted to usurp the throne. His closeness to the monarch was a hurdle. Suirei was working in the background while her sister marched her way to the rear palace where the consorts and the concubines stayed.
“Are you sure of this? The physician only experimented with the rats and he.. “
“Don’t jinx it… I changed a few things.”
“Take care of yourself, Sister.” Shisui would protect her older sister with all her might.
Suirei wanted to hold her hand assuring her that it was all right. They had their roles defined for them. If they wanted to avenge their family, her position, no day but today.
~~
Months later, Suirei died. Shisui eased her way to the company of Maomao. The Eunuch was still alive after the attempted assassination all because of the Apothecary Girl.
And now, they met again as the fates ordered them to be. Fully resurrected. Sometimes, one had to think out of the box to reach for the goal. Literally.
Suirei wondered if the Apothecary Girl would finally realise the truth between her and the well-endowed fake servant girl, who was holding her hand at the moment.
The Eunuch and the Strategist were probably losing their minds right now. The corner of her mouth turned up in a lopsided smile.
Fandom: Good Omens - Rating: Teen and Up - Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley - Trigger Warnings: Mentions of war, bombings. Word Count: 971 Challenge: Out of the Box, @flashfictionfridayofficial
While they both agree "something" happened that may have shifted their dynamic forever, neither can decide what to call it, or if it should be acknowledged at all. The one thing they are both certain of, however, is that it would be a dangerous day in heaven/hell if either side became too aware.
Disclaimer: Please excuse any heinous or annoying errors. Writing "fast" and on a deadline is not my forte.
Aziraphale watched intently as the demon settled across the table. He seemed to have pulled out all the stops with his fashion choices, the slick, smooth fabric of his pristine suit accentuating his usual smooth movements. Aziraphale half expected him to show up drunk, or all too eager to get drunk, if he showed up at all. But here he was, quite sober, sitting steadily upright, with stability that was quickly stiffening. Aziraphale blinked and tried to clear the nagging distractions from his mind, including the line of the demon’s shoulders and strongly set jaw.
“Can I just say…” the angel began. Crowley didn’t look up; instead, he shifted silently to the side and stared at the menu. A bit of irritation manifested red on the angel’s cheeks as he tried again. “Crowley, I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable…”
“Not here,” The demon said briskly. Aziraphale lowered his voice to a whisper.
“Crowley, really, I - I didn’t mean to…”
“Not here,” the demon emphasized, under his breath and between his teeth. Aziraphale was taken aback by his demeanor. A little more understanding - more sensitivity - would be appropriate, he thought, considering what had transpired before they arrived for dinner.
“It’s not safe.” Crowley’s eyes didn’t move from the menu. “It’s never safe. You know that!”
“We - we can go back to the bookshop if…”
“No!” he finally turned and looked the angel in the eyes. “Just - just stay here n’ act normal.”
“Normal?”
“Yessss.”
Normal. In other words, act like what happened before they arrived didn’t. Not normal as in calm, even though a bomb could fall around, or on, them any second, not normal despite huge sections of the city being on fire while they sat comfortably in the Ritz’s main dining hall, but normal as in pretend – again - that what was there, in the space between himself and that bloody menu obscuring his best friend’s face, wasn’t. (Or, couldn’t be.)
“What would you like?” Crowley had quickly leapt over the moment and landed with a softer tone, but refused to look at Aziraphale again. Aziraphale glanced over and noted the inverted wine list in the demon’s hands. He softened, his eyes twinkling with amusement and compassion, as he gingerly reached for the menu, righted it, and gently slid it back between Crowley’s fingers.
“Better?” Aziraphale smiled brighter as he watched the demon’s cheeks flush.
The sky was dark. Dark in a way only days of rising smoke and layers of scattered cinder could create. The streets were barren, and rightly so, except for the Bentley, which had sped into its space in front of the bookshop about an hour earlier. Two boxes with a shiny gold “R” embossed on the corners of each sat next to Aziraphale and Crowley as they rested on their elbows over two small plates full of remnants of rich baked goods.
“These are delightful, hmm?” The angel tried not to get crumbs on his jacket as he had the last bite of a frosted biscuit.
“Yes,” Crowley said absently, supporting himself on one arm. He wasn’t eating, he was gazing, while he could, at the brilliant platinum curls atop the angel’s head as Aziraphale was distracted with the last of the desserts.
“Bit of a contrast to…” Aziraphale’s voice saddened a bit as he looked up at the sky through the window pane and sighed. Crowley startled and awkwardly straightened up. “What will they think of next?”
“Humans?”
“Yes. Appalling. Or is this your side?”
“A mix, really. But, some humans are more demonically inspired than others, I can say that.”
They sat silently as Aziraphale patted his mouth with a napkin when Crowley piped up, taking an extraordinarily deep and shaky breath.
“I think...you wanted...to say something earlier?”
“Did I?” the angel looked up blankly from his plate, some crumbs still stuck to his lips. Crowley smirked and tried to stifle a snort.
“What?”
“I think...you wanted to talk about...”
Aziraphale paused. “Oh...are...are you sure you want to talk about it? I shouldn’t have goaded you...”
“It’s alright, angel, I just...” Crowley frowned, confused. “I don’t know, really. I do know it’s not safe. And I know I’ve given you so many reasons already...so many things that if they ever knew, we’d both be gone. Forevah.” Crowley made an explosion sound, then a few quiet little shrieks with his mouth, and gestured into the air with his hands. “I’ve done enough to put you at risk, and that while supposedly trying to protect you. What sense does that make?”
“Well, I’ve done the same, haven’t I?” Aziraphale said regretfully.
“We both have. But this…this is asking for it. I don’t know that it’s something we really want out of the box.”
Aziraphale nodded, sad and sober.
“I understand…”
“I don’t want to lose you, angel. There’d be no coming back. That can’t happen...not to you. To us. As much as I …as much as we...may want…” Crowley was growing increasingly flustered, almost panicked. “I mean maybe someday...I don’t know...maybe…?”
Aziraphale reached across the table and stopped him, covering the demon’s hand with his.
“I understand.” Aziraphale tightened his hand around Crowley’s, and the demon quieted.
“Might not seem like it, looking out there," the angel glanced toward the street again. "But we still have today. We have now. And that will have to be enough. I would rather have you forever, in some form, than never again.”
“I don’t want to lose you, Aziraphale,” Crowley hissed, almost desperate with increasing fear.
“You won’t,” Aziraphale whispered. Crowley breathed a heavy sigh of relief and release and dropped his head, his hand still holding the angel’s. Aziraphale wrapped his pinky finger around Crowley’s. “You won’t.”
