Stolen from gehayi. Why the hell not.

[camwyn]

Write me fic in the comments! It can be however long you like (well, up to 4300 words, since that's the limit for comments). It can be in any fandom you want, as long as it's a fandom I also write in , because -- this is the fun part -- I'll write you fic back, in the same fandom! It might be a remix or a sequel or something totally unrelated, but it'll be in the same fandom. C'mon, you know you want to entertain me. Dooooooo it!

Acceptable fandoms: Harry Potter, LOTR / Silmarillion, Hellblazer, Ghostbusters, Starship Troopers, Sergeant Preston of the Yukon, League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, Discworld, The Silver Corporal, American folklore, Li Kao / Number Ten Ox.

Comments

[camwyn]

*tempts* *tempts more* *tempts with bait on stick*

[batyatoon]

The dirigible glided silently over the deadly desert like a second moon. Inside, things were almost as silent as the empty sands below; most of the team was asleep, or trying to be.

Mary leaned over the bed to brush a straggle of fair hair away from Dorothy's flushed cheek, and then sat back in the rocking chair. The girl stirred, tossed her head and whimpered faintly, but did not wake.

At the foot of the bed, Toto raised his head from his paws and gave a tired tail-wag. "She's dreaming," he said quietly.

"People do that." Mary unpinned her hair and began to brush it with short, sharp strokes.

The small dog watched his mistress for a moment. "What do you suppose she's dreaming about?"

Sss, sss went the hairbrush. Mary's voice was only slightly louder than the sound. "Nothing good, I'll be bound."

"She wanted to go see Glinda."

"I know." Sss.

"She asked about Glinda, and about Ozma, and General Jinjur. And the Scarecrow and the Tin Man. And the Nome King." Toto's voice was very quiet, and very quietly worried. "And before she went to sleep, she was saying something about Ugu the Shoemaker."

"Was she." Mary put down the hairbrush with a tiny precise click, stood up from the rocking chair, and picked up her tentlike nightgown from her own bed.

Toto whined, just a little bit. "And Mary ... she hasn't asked anyone yet about Uncle Henry and Aunt Em."

Mary stopped moving, just for a moment. "No," she said then. "No, she hasn't."

"Or about Betsy Bobbin or Trot or any of the other little ones ... I don't think she's even thought about them." The little dog fidgeted on the bed, and whined again.

"Hush," Mary said, sharp but still very quiet. "You'll wake her."

[camwyn]

It had been a day of unpleasant discoveries, shocking revelations, and one strangeness piled on top of the next. Despite that, or because of it, the Mountie couldn't sleep. He sat at the end of his bed instead, peering out at the passing stars as the dirigible made its way back to England. They were none of them the stars he knew. Whether that was because they were the stars of Oz's sky, or because the skies changed over southern Africa, he didn't know. Only that the one thing in all the world that ought to have been familiar no matter where he went, wasn't.

Well- one of the two things in all the world, anyway. Prince had just slipped back into the room, silent as a shadow, and had laid his muzzle on the Sergeant's knee. "What is it, boy?"

The big dog sighed heavily. "I heard Toto," he said without preamble. "He worries about the girl."

"I think we all do, Prince. Toto especially, but he's not the only one." He rested one hand on Prince's head, scratching him lightly behind the ears. "What's he worried about?"

The husky's tail swished over the floor. "Her family," he said. "Her pack. She looked for others, but not for them."

"I see."

Prince canted his head a little, making such eye contact as could be made without shaking the Sergeant's hand loose. "You are thinking something," he said, his tail stilling. "What?"

Preston sighed. "I know what she's feeling, Prince. Or something very close to it, anyway."

The husky made a small, curious whine in the back of his throat. Preston smiled. "It was before your time, old fellow. I wasn't much older than Dorothy is now. I'd just lost my father, you see."

"But the girl has not lost her pack," said Prince, puzzled. "Has she?"

"Well, I don't know- but she thinks she has. And she's afraid of that." He ruffled the dog's fur lightly, just above the collar. "And she doesn't want to think about them, because of what might've happened."

There was silence for a while before Prince said, slowly, "I do not understand."

"She's afraid, Prince," said Preston quietly. "I don't know how it is with you, but for us humans, it's easier to act than it is to think. If she's acting- well, it's very hard to be afraid when you've got something big to do." He glanced out the window again. "It's not good for her, but that's how humans are, sometimes."

Prince heaved a great sigh. He twisted his head a little under the Sergeant's touch, turning to lick briefly at the scar his grandfather had left on the man's right hand years before. "When we are afraid," he said, "we run. Or we bite things. She is running, then?"

"Something like that, yes."

"Someone should stop her," Prince decided. "Before she gets too far."

"Someone will, Prince. I promise."

"Good," said the dog. With a final nuzzle of head against hand he curled up at the foot of the bed and went to sleep.

Preston stayed awake, and watched the stars go by.