ext_137590 (
glasgow-blue.livejournal.com) wrote in
fellowshippers2006-01-19 01:20 pm
An Latha Buidhe
Contrary to popular belief, I am not, in fact, dead...just rusty.
Title: An Latha Buidhe
Author:
glasgow_blue
Pairing: Monaboyd
Rating: G, for generally benign
Word Count: 220
Disclaimer: I am making this shit up.
Archive: Please ask.
Crossposted on:
monaboyd,
fellow_shippers
Summary: The duck is for luck.
This is for
mrv3000 . Thanks for the nudge.
"Dom?"
"Yes, Billy?"
"There appears to be a wee duck fastened to your board."
Dom rolls onto his belly, sending a ripple of salt water Billy's way. One hand trails, bluish and strangely elongated by the sea. The other caresses the duck, which has been affixed to the nose of his surfboard by a combination of glue and nylon strapping. It is bright yellow, sporting a painted smile and a pair of tiny sunglasses.
"His name is Chester," Dom says. "After my uncle."
Billy raises an eyebrow.
"A great Adventurer, Chester was."
"Feathered?"
Dom snorts. "Once. For fancy dress."
"Hence the duck."
Dom scoops up a handful of the South Pacific and dribbles it gently over Chester's head--a baptism of sorts. "The duck is for luck."
"Ah. A lucky duck."
"Precisely."
Billy scratches his chin, pondering. He's not sure he would have chosen a duck to be Dom's totem animal. The sky above them is a flawless blue of the sort that he would bottle and sell on Glasgow's corners on Wednesday afternoons in March. Below, the sea rolls gently, too lazy to work up any decent sets. Somewhat disappointing, but perfect none-the-less.
Their boards bump from time to time and when it happens again, Billy reaches over and strokes Chester's left wing.
"For luck," he says.
"For luck."
With thanks to
diavestra for the beta.
Title: An Latha Buidhe
Author:
Pairing: Monaboyd
Rating: G, for generally benign
Word Count: 220
Disclaimer: I am making this shit up.
Archive: Please ask.
Crossposted on:
Summary: The duck is for luck.
This is for
"Dom?"
"Yes, Billy?"
"There appears to be a wee duck fastened to your board."
Dom rolls onto his belly, sending a ripple of salt water Billy's way. One hand trails, bluish and strangely elongated by the sea. The other caresses the duck, which has been affixed to the nose of his surfboard by a combination of glue and nylon strapping. It is bright yellow, sporting a painted smile and a pair of tiny sunglasses.
"His name is Chester," Dom says. "After my uncle."
Billy raises an eyebrow.
"A great Adventurer, Chester was."
"Feathered?"
Dom snorts. "Once. For fancy dress."
"Hence the duck."
Dom scoops up a handful of the South Pacific and dribbles it gently over Chester's head--a baptism of sorts. "The duck is for luck."
"Ah. A lucky duck."
"Precisely."
Billy scratches his chin, pondering. He's not sure he would have chosen a duck to be Dom's totem animal. The sky above them is a flawless blue of the sort that he would bottle and sell on Glasgow's corners on Wednesday afternoons in March. Below, the sea rolls gently, too lazy to work up any decent sets. Somewhat disappointing, but perfect none-the-less.
Their boards bump from time to time and when it happens again, Billy reaches over and strokes Chester's left wing.
"For luck," he says.
"For luck."
With thanks to

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Thanks for sharing!
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Oh, I'm glad that bit worked for you. :)
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:)
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I hate it when I accidentally kill people. :)