Let's head for the hills! :-)

Wow, welcome to our first of many Drabble Days this year! Our prompt today is sled/sleigh. Five authors participated today, and I'm hoping that even more of you will feel inspired once you see how fun it is. :-) Remember that the list of prompts & associated deadlines is here, and feel free to play!

Because I'm sleepy and disorganized this year :-), I'll quote myself again from last year: "For those who aren't familiar with the way this went last year, depending on the volume & type of drabbles received, I'll either post all in a single post in increasing order of slash or I'll post the gen drabbles in one and the slash drabbles in another. We'll find out the authors on the 25th. As always, remember that 1) everyone loves their betas, and 2) feedback is a fabulous gift for the season. :-)" I'm trying to have a more uniform look to the drabbles this year, though.

Interestingly, we have no particularly slashy drabbles today, the closest is a pre-slash entrant. The first four aren't in any particular order, and the pre-slash is at the end, but it's safe enough for a gen audience. And if I managed to lose yours because I'm not in the swing of things yet or something, please drop me a note at ainm66 at yahoo dot com. Thanks everybody!!!



Title: Wish I May
Word count: 498
Type: Gen
Rating: G [ainm-rated]
Author: janedavitt

Wish I May

Cascade just didn't get snow. It fell; it turned to slush; it melted. It didn't lie deep and crisp and even, and so it wasn't worth buying Daryl a sled.

The boy still wanted one.

Year after year, it made his wish list, incongruous, as time went by, against all must-have gifts Joan and Simon lined up to buy along with other exhausted, irritable parents.

Each year, Simon thought about it, looked at the forecast over the Christmas break (rain, with a possibility of wintry showers usually) and shook his head.

The first Christmas after he'd moved out, he did more than think about it. He bought the sled, sleek, fast, red, and he found a place in the mountains where snow was guaranteed. It was a long drive, sure, but he'd gotten Daryl for the weekend (not the day itself, no, but you couldn't expect -- and he'd eaten at the Taggarts' and spent the evening with Jim Ellison and a buzzed-on-eggnog Sandburg, so it hadn't been as -- no, it had, it'd been hell, but still…)

They got to the ski slopes, Daryl slumped in his seat the whole way, words doled out grudgingly, the scenery around him sniffed at, and Simon took out the sled from the trunk and handed it over, his smile wide, expectant, feeling like Santa himself.

Daryl looked at it and for a moment, just a moment, his eyes lit up, but then he glanced away and said, his voice flat, "You're joking. I'm not a kid, okay?" Simon's face must have shown his hurt, because Daryl cleared his throat. "There's a place over there I can rent a snowboard. They're cool, I guess. Got some money?"

Numb, Simon dug out some bills from his pocket, his fingers chilled, and Daryl took them with a nod of thanks and disappeared, lost in the crowd of bright hats and bulky, colorful jackets.

Simon stared down at the sled and kicked it in an excess of pain that needed an outlet. It slid obediently, smoothly, over the hard-packed snow, the crunch its runners made strangely enticing.

Simon picked up the nylon rope that doubled as a handle and a way of steering, and walked over to a slope that was too short to be worth skiing down, too steep for a beginner to use.

It had been a long time…

The lurch as the sled began to move tugged a yell from him, a whoop of surprise, and then the wind was screaming around his head and the tears in his eyes were whipped away, gone. He was flying, skimming the snow like a flung stone on water, steering through instinct, not memory, guiding his sled -- his! -- toward the gap between two trees and coming to a slow stop just beyond them.

He sat still for a moment and then craned his head back to look at the tracks the runners had made.

He'd come a long way.

---

Title: untitled
Word count: 100
Type: Gen
No Rating/No Warning
Author: maaaaa

Shaking his head, Jim gives the sled a shove with his foot, propelling Blair down the hillside.

Blair shrieks and Jim watches with wry amusement as Blair’s hat flies off, loosing his hair to whip out behind him in a mad flurry.

Blair is headed for the humongous pine at the base of the hill, the one Jim often smashed into years ago. He hollers for Blair to steer left, but his words are lost, and the inevitable happens.

Blair comes up laughing. He brushes himself off and trudges zig-zageddly up the hill to do it just one more time.

---

Title: Unexpected Gift
Word count: 474
Type: Gen
Rating: G [ainm-rated]
Author: banbury

Unexpected Gift

The wind was blowing hard now; sharp pieces of ice banged the window behind his back. The cold in the unheated attic made the man shiver all the time and he pushed the boxes away with irritation.

“Sally!” He listened for several minutes, trying to make out the sounds in the house, then cursed under his breath and darted towards the staircase. “Sally! Where did you put my old sleds?”

Some words told in a low voice drifted up from the kitchen, “… stairs… under…”

“Damn.” He shut the attic door and went downstairs. The old woman stood in the middle of the kitchen with her hands covered with flour and patiently waited for him. “Just don’t tell me that old man’s thrown it out at last.”

“No, Steve. I put it downstairs this year, under the Christmas tree.”

He nodded and ran to the living room without even a simple “thanks.” He thought one thought and couldn’t let himself be distracted before he’d resolved the strange memory that'd settled in his head last night.

The sleds, draped with the old child's quilt with stars and bells, had been put under the tree and loaded with wrapped gifts. Steven frowned then quickly unloaded his prize and turned it over.

It was there.

Somehow, to see the words he saw last night in his dream for real was more fantastic than the dream itself.

The words carved deep in the old wood stated “B.J. Sandburg’s property.” Steven nodded, closed his eyes for a minute and then slowly traced the letters with his finger. So, it was real! He knew Blair before.

He didn’t remember it so clearly as to recall all the events – it was just that dream last night with a bouncing kid about six years old who tried to persuade him to go somewhere he wasn’t supposed to go. Quite vague memory. And the sleds. Steve’s own sleds he gave Blair as a gift at the beginning of their acquaintance and found out before his window two or so months later, when Blair and his mom disappeared into the thin air.

He didn’t know where Jim was at that time, whether he remembered Blair or not. And truthfully he didn’t give a damn about it now. He traced the letters one more time, organized the gifts under the tree in the proper manner and took the sleds with him.

“Hmmm, Sally, may I borrow it?” He smiled thankfully to her amused smile and went to his car. He won’t go to Jim’s loft tonight. Oh no. He’ll put this sleds in his room for a while and try to remember by himself.

Steven smiled. It was as if he found his Christmas gift beforehand and now anticipated gradual removal of all wrappers. It’ll be fun. And then he’ll come to Jim and Blair.

---

Title: Santa is a Dirty Old Man
Word count: 100
Type: Gen
Rating: PG [ainm-rated]
Author: roslynsmuse

Santa is a Dirty Old Man

Blair dropped into a seat at Jim's kitchen table. "Well, I did it. Finally found a used sleigh!"

"Chief, why the hell do you want an old sleigh in your apartment? You hire a decorator to do a North Pole motif based on Santa's workshop?"

"Come on." Blair led his partner to his newly acquired space next door and led him upstairs. He pointed to the elaborately rolled mahogany wood surrounding an over-stuffed mattress. "This is a fine example of a sleigh bed. Women love 'em! If Santa's driving anything like this baby, he is one dirty old man."

(Click here for pic of sleigh bed if you've never seen one)

---

Title: Crash
Word count: 368
Type: meant to be pre-slash
Rating: PG
Note: This was supposed to be funny and pre-slashy. It went angsty instead, and I'm hoping to try to resolve it in some other drabbles. Sorry, not the way I wanted to start the season!
Author: ainm

Crash

"No one is going to believe me."

"Come on, Chief."

"No, I'm serious -- there's no way they'll buy that it wasn't me."

"Believe it or not, Sandburg, I'm a big boy now, and I'm responsible for my own actions."

"Doesn't matter -- they'll blame me."

"Give me a break."

"Oh, that's hysterical, Jim -- rub it in, why don't you."

"Look, Chief, I don't know what the big deal is. I broke my pinky, not my leg, and it didn't have anything to do with you."

"I just don't understand it, Jim -- why did you think that sledding, in the dark and out of control, would be a good idea? Everybody is going to assume I put you up to it, and I'm going to be getting dirty looks until the splint is off for damaging one of Cascade's finest."

"You know, this isn't actually all about you, Sandburg. My finger is killing me, and I could use, well, if not some sympathy, at least a little understanding. I find it hard to believe that you never got a little too much, ah, cheer in you and did something that you might have realized sober wasn't the best plan."

"Maybe when I young, Jim."

"So you're calling me stupid and old? What is your problem, Sandburg?"

"My problem? You're my problem!"

"What?! How am I your problem? For god's sake, Sandburg, I went out with an old friend, got a little tipsy, and decided to take advantage of the rare snow to have a little fun. Yeah, maybe not the greatest idea ever, but it doesn't have anything to do with you! Not everything I do revolves around you, you know!"

"Yeah, damn it, I know! But..."

"...Look, Chief, I'm sorry, but I've had a long night and I've just got to go to bed, OK? We can fight about it some more in the morning, if you really think we need to. Or, preferably, maybe we can just laugh it off and move on."

"Maybe."

"Good night, Chief."

"Night. ... Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you have fun? Before the crash?"

"Yeah, I did."

"Oh. That's... good."

"Wish you could have been there."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"OK. Good night, Jim."

"Night, Blair."