Current mood:	peaceful
Entry tags:	doctor who, heroes, hiro, martha jones, monica dawson

2 Heroes Request Drabbles
Title: Night
Fandoms: Doctor Who/Heroes
Pairing: Martha Jones/Monica Dawson
Rating: PG
Words: 228
Summary: She turns until she can’t see the sky either.
Notes: Written for toestastegood in this request meme. Also written for doctorwho_100 prompt#46 Star. Link to my table here. And for heroes15 prompt #15, tears. Link to my table here.


She can see Monica becoming upset as she points out Orion for the third time and explains that it’s just beyond the third building on the left. She’s been careless, tossing out words like easy and simple with regard to seeking them out, because for her it is fairly simple. The stars are with her everyday. Her eyes are constantly looking up to see what might become of them this time.

But Monica’s always looked down, focused on putting one foot in front of the other. She’s never seen the stars like this before, with grass tickling her neck and Martha’s hand touching hers. She can’t see the constellation, only a jumble of light and dark, and it upsets her. Makes her pull away, even as Martha moves closer.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers, her hand moving across that small waist. “I thought you’d like it.”

“Why can’t I see it?” Monica has that tone in her voice again. The one that comes when she forgets how extraordinary she is. How beautiful she’s always been.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to you.”

Martha shakes her head, blocking her view of the darkness above.

“It does. Sometimes.” She turns until she can’t see the sky either. Only the damp grass below, her reflection in those sad dark eyes.

“But you always matter more.”



Title: Childish Things
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Monica/Hiro
Rating: PG
Words: 227
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: He was never good with tears.
Notes: This was a pairing requested by msloserrific. Also written for heroes15 prompt #6/Desperation. Link to my table here.

Hiro was never good with tears, even when he was child.

The mere sight of watery eyes would instantly make his bottom lip tremble, something his mother always assured him was perfectly normal for a boy his age. That he was just sensitive. But after one too many taunts thrown his way, he’d started to doubt that assertion. Or at least the idea that being a bit sensitive was actually good thing.

So he becomes slightly frantic when Monica starts to cry, yet another state he’s not unfamiliar with. He removes his glasses and turns her pretty brown face into a mix of blurry images. But it doesn’t help. He can still hear her sniffles, the defeated tilt of her head. He thinks of puppies. Of sunshine and manga comics. He thinks of cotton candy sticking on his chin while Ando teases him about the mess he’s making. But it doesn’t help. Because she’s still crying.

She’s still sad.

So he kisses her. Out desperation, figuring the embarrassment of her rejection would be significantly less than the shame of bursting into possibly hysterical tears. But he doesn’t expect to enjoy it as much as he does. Or for her to kiss him back. For her hands to pull him closer.

And he wonders if his mother was right.

Maybe being sensitive was a good thing after all.