Categories > TV > House > The Ducklings, 1000 Reviews
100 drabbles centred around Cameron, Chase and Foreman for the fanfic100 challenge.
In a fit of madness, I signed up for the fanfic100 challenge! (can be found at livejounal dot com/fanfic100) The aim of this is to write a hundred drabbles/fics/poems set in a fandom of your choosing, centred around characters of your choosing. Mine are thealway loveableDucklings, otherwise known as Robert Chase, Eric Foreman and Allison Cameron.These drabblesdon't have to be writtenin order, and I won't be uploading them in order (although I may re-arrange them when it's finished). This is number 064, I think.
Since the vast majority of these will be drabble like things, I decided not to bother uploading them in seperate stories.
Isane? Yes. But I think it will be rather fun.
So, to get this straight: All these chapters are unrelated, unless noted otherwise.
Chase loved autumn. The splashes of bright orange and red against a grey sky. The promise of winter, so close.
He loved winter, almost as much as autumn. Not so much the cold, but the rain- the storms- the snow. Robert still couldn't quite wrap his head around snow, and the novelty of it never quite wore off.
Rain never lost its fun, either. Rain was a good thing, and always had been. Washing away everything- cleaning the world, leaving it fresh and sparkling.
Foreman thought he was nuts. Chase agreed, privately, but he made up a great drought of '85, and took the liberty of telling Foreman about it.
Cameron hated autumn.
"Everything's /dying/," she said disbelievingly, when he mentioned his love of the season. And, after a pause, she added: "And it's called fall."
But it was only dying to make way for something else, he thought, musing on what she'd said. It was going to happen anyway, whether you liked it or not- and sometimes it was easier just to let things happen, and hope that spring turned up eventually.
He wondered- if she had the choice- if Cameron would live in an eternal springtime, where everything was just beginning; fresh and innocent and full of promise.
What was the point, he wondered, if it didn't change.