I Tried To Be Like Grace Kelly

So, yeah, I wrote--and finished!--a fic for Sanctuary. It's short and there's no real plot, but it came to me and begged to be written before I went back to sleep. Hence my being up at five in the morning. The fic, cut for sexual situations (not smut, though it's a minor miracle):

( Clinical )



Lemme know what y'all think, hm?

Random and inspired by saphyria quoting bits from The Sorcerer's Apprentice' to me and ps_you_look_hot's userpic . One hundred words precisely.



“Don't be foolish, James. You'll never catch him--John is divided between two things, and neither one can ever win.” Tesla was arrogant as ever standing next to the bookshelf, glass in hand. But he was right; James merely huffed out a breath, watching the Serb very carefully. Watson knew he couldn't make an adequate argument against the claim.

“And what two things are those, Nikola? Good and evil?” It would have been so like the man to simplify John into those polar opposites.

“No. Power and control. The power he possesses, and the control he doesn't.”

So you've got this magical pie pan, right?

There's a pie in it, your parents baked it for you.

The pie is delicious. It's wonderful, it lowers your cholesterol, helps you live longer--even saves you some money on your taxes. A lot of people love this pie, and would like a slice.

And that magical pie pan? It's awesome. Every time someone takes a slice out of the pie, it is immediately replaced by another slice. It doesn't cost anybody anything except the people buying the pie, and their cost is minimal considering how awesome it is. The materials that replenish the pie are love and hope. Those are the only ingredients.

Now, the only catch is that you can't get a slice of pie by yourself. You have to hold hands with another person, and only then will you be able to cut a slice of this pie and then you have to share it.

Now your parents set up two teams, because their parents had two teams. The teams are called Red Team and Blue Team.

And your parents made a rule that you were only allowed to have a slice of pie if you were purple: one red team member, one blue team member.

The pie pan doesn't set that rule. The pie pan is like the honey badger--it doesn't care at all, long as there are two of you and you hold hands, it gives you pie.

But there's these guards we hired, and we told them to keep enforcing the team rule whenever someone comes to get a slice of pie.

And now, some people on blue team and some people on red team would like some pie. And they've found partners they want to come and get pie with, but they're both on red team, or their both on blue team.

And your claim is that they shouldn't have any pie, because. . . it'll change what your pie tastes like.

The analogy should be pretty blatant.

The pie pan is marriage.

The pie is a marriage license.

Gay couples deserve their slice of the pie.

Yours won't change flavour. I promise.

Our current, arbitrary rule about red and blue teams is the only thing between them and equal treatment with the rest of us.

The teams don't matter anymore. Treat them as individuals, and as couples, not as members of one team or another. Let them have their pie.



...Now I must say, I did not come up with this, but I thought it was pretty awesome.