Dalek Week 2015, Day 7: ChickenDALEK WEEK 2015
Their second day in Tokyo, the Middies hold a signing in the conference room at their hotel. "Clart and rubbish," in Jaspert's opinion, and Deryn tends to agree with him, but they have a surprising amount of Japanese fans, and the label charges five pounds an autograph – more if you want a personal message along with it. Even more if you want your photo snapped with the band. They also sell records and tour t-shirts and studio photos and keychains and every other bloody thing you can imagine.
It's not very punk, but it does make a sodding pile of money.
Deryn sits at the table with her two remaining bandmates and signs everything in front of her. She smiles at the fans and flashes obscene gestures on demand in the photos. She laughs when Newkirk manages to tip his chair over.
Anything's better than thinking about Alek.
He'd left the plane without a word to her or Newkirk and Jaspert. As far as she
The Burial of Mr SharpIt wasn’t a particularly dreary day. Yes, cloudy of course, any day in London was cloudy, but without rain or overall humidity. The procession began at nine o clock for a service at twelve. Some had argued that the Saint Christopher Church would be appropriate, seeing as how Mr. Sharp had attended services there with The Lady Boffin and her family every Christmas, but in the end it ruled that he would have preferred an outdoor funeral, in the open air, where attendants might feel a gentle breeze. Dr. Barlow had insisted upon a costlier casket, but eventually decided that a simple black was more suited. Dylan Sharp had detested fancy things, after all. The crowd was small, only a few associates of the Zoological Society of London coupled with some army men representing the Air Service, and of course the Barlow family were in attendance. It was rumored that Dylan’s own mother had refused to make the trip to London, and only his cousin Jaspart had arrived to pay his respects.
LoveAlek sighed, he looked over at Deryn to see she she was as bored as he was. "Well, this is fun", she said, sarcasm heavy in her voice. "Why does it take so long to cross the Pacific Ocean", he said with a sigh. She shrugged, "the oceans a big place Alek". He nodded in agreement but he still wished they would go faster. A gust of wind blew there hair and he found himself staring at Deryn. She looked over and gave him a quizzical look. "There it is again", she said, pointing at him. "There what is again?", he asked a bit confused. "That daft look you give, it didn't happen in till you went and cracked your attic". He shrugged, "ok, so what". She blinked, "nothing I suppose, it's just different and you make it at me, is it's a bit uncomfortable". "Sorry, I can't really control that", he said looking away blushing. Bovril popped up onto his shoulders "daft", he said chuckling. Deryn smiled at the beastie "your right beastie, he is daft". Alek frowned and shook his head "whatever", he said.
I'll be home for Christmas- Part FiveThe morning light came through the front window of the house, into the living room where it got into the eyes of the person sprawled on the couch, waking them up.
Deryn cracked an eye open and saw it was morning. She stretched out on the couch, groaning.
The couch had not been comfortable.
Usually it was, as it had deep cushions which you could sink into, but for some reason it had not been pleasant last night.
Her mother had forced her to stay downstairs for the night. She had fallen asleep there, muscles stiff and clothes rumpled.
She hadn’t slept well.
The youngest cousin had cried at three in the morning. Bovril had curled up by her legs, which made her legs stiff from not moving. When the wee beastie had finally woken up and wandered off at five, somebody had crashed through the bathroom upstairs. Her eye had hurt like crazy.
But now it was the 24th. Christmas Eve.
Today was the day Deryn and Alek had agreed on gift exchanges, at midnight.
Deryn was determined to be romantic
I'll be home for Christmas- Part FourAlek sat at the dining room table, finishing his breakfast of eggs and toast.
It was December 23rd now, the day before Christmas Eve. The wind was dying down a bit and the sun had come out in force today.
Alek gazed out the window and watched the icicles on the wrought-iron fence outside dripping.
His hand still hurt like crazy, and was a rich shade of purple.
He had woken up alone that morning, which scared him more than he cared to admit; it was like his nightmares of losing Deryn- electrified by Goliath, shot in Istanbul, killed when her glider crashed in Mexico- were reality and the past months of being together with her were the dream.
He had laid there in bed for ten minutes, his heart raw and open before he realized she probably had just returned to her own room so her family wouldn’t find them in the same bed.
He was still rather irked about it, though. He didn’t like waking up without her there, especially when he knew they had fallen asleep together.
When they wer
Problem Struck chapter 2Problem Struck
By Stargirl 8
"Scheiße..." Alek swore when he realized how the boffin and the damned count tricked him, as he stared at the unconscious female. The prince glanced at the door, pondering whether the conspirators locked him in or not, but a low moan from the female wiped all of those thoughts from his mind. Alek dashed over to the bedside, gazing worriedly at the cross-dresser wondering whether she was alright.
"Aunt Claudie... Aleksander... airship dead... " moaned Deryn as bitter tears began to slide down her cheeks, leaving wide salty trails shining in the glow worm's light. A throbbing ache welled up in Alek's chest as he watched the crossdresser shed her precious waterworks until the prince could stand no more. Awkwardly Alek seated himself on the tinniest sliver on the bed, and gradually shifted Deryn's head to his lap so he could stroke her silky short sand-colored hair.
"Shhhhh, meine liebe... don't cry, I'm right here for you..." soothed Alek
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