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gameofcards: "Weekend Getaway."
Apple Getaway
Fandom: Glee
Rating: G
Word count: 711
“APPLE picking?!?” chorused Kurt, Mercedes, and Santana, unconsciously aping each other with a hand-on-hip, waving finger pose and expressions ranging from aghast (Kurt) to shocked (Mercedes) to scathing (Santana, of course). “Oh, hell, no!” added Mercedes.
“Aw, c’mon, it’ll be fun!” entreated Sam. “It’s what everyone here does in the Fall. Apple picking in Vermont!” He twirled around and ended up on his knees in a pleading position at Mercedes’ feet.
“No way, Corn Boy,” sneered Santana. “Did you forget? We CAME from a freakin’ country backwater town. And I didn’t drag my fine ass from Nowheresville USA to the Big City only to scuttle back down some other crap dusty country road.”
“Well I’m in favor of it,” proclaimed Rachel, sweeping in from the bedroom. “Part of being in New York is doing what the New Yorkers do. And in Autumn, New Yorkers go apple-ing.”
“Yeah, guys, why not?” Blaine interspersed, slipping his arm around Kurt’s waist. “It sounds like fun to me. Romantic.” He nuzzled Kurt’s shoulder, eliciting a giggle and a kiss.
“Count me in,” chirped Artie. “I could use a change of scenery to hone my mind’s eye.” He peered through a viewfinder, scanning the room. “I can see it now: leafy trees, gentle breeze, and what evil lurks among the tall ladders…..” Even Santana laughed at that, and the energy in the room softened considerably.
“Yeah!” Sam leapt to his feet, clapping. “Monroe’s letting me use his van, all we gotta do is shove his photography stuff to the side. This Saturday. Nice long drive; it’ll be a real weekend getaway!”
***************
“Don’t sit under the apple tree/With anyone else but me,” warbled Blaine as he drew Kurt into the shade. Kurt glanced with dismay at the dirt but relented and dropped down next to his boyfriend. “Hardly can call it an apple tree, without a single apple,” he said moodily.
Sam looked crestfallen as he gazed at the empty battered buckets around their feet. “I’m so disappointed,” he said. “I had such high hopes.”
“High apple piiiie in the skyyyyyy hopes!” sang Artie, as he alternately looked through his viewfinder and sketched on a notepad.
“It’s not so bad,” smiled Rachel as she spun in a circle and brushed her hand through the leaves. “Apples or no, it is nice to be out in the fresh air.” Santana groaned, and groaned again as Rachel struck her customary singing pose and took a breath. "I’d like to build the world a home, And furnish it with love, Grow apple trees and honey bees and snow-white turtle doves…”
“Yeah, baby, I’m glad you dragged us out here. Bright sun, blue sky, it’s giving me my mojo back.” Mercedes put her hand on Sam’s shoulder and shimmied her hips. “They say Eve tempted Adam with an apple,” she growled. “But man I ain't going for that. I know it was her pink Cadillac…” Still singing, she sashayed down the dirt path, beckoning with her finger. Sam brightened, and trotted after her, breaking into a chase as she whooped and ran.
“Mojo, schmojo.” Santana leaned against a tree trunk and produced a nail file which she deployed with an air of extreme boredom. “First rule of new life: Never leave the city.” She crossed her cowboy-booted ankles, and began singing softly, “Get me out/Into the night-time/Four walls won't hold me tonight/If this town/Is just an apple/Then let me take a bite.” She recoiled as Sam and Mercedes pelted back toward the group, kicking up dust and laughing. “Bite the Big Apple, don’t mind the maggots,” snarled Sam, brandishing a wrinkled specimen under Mercedes’ nose.
“Welp.” Kurt stood up, dusted himself off, and reached down for Blaine’s hand. “That’s our cue.”
“Cue?” asked Santana, looking alert.
“Yeah. The Big Apple. Maggots.” Kurt hauled Blaine to his feet and started leading him to the van. “Our cue. Exit Stage South.”
“Yes. Finally!” Santana spun on her heel and strode after them. “New York!”
“New York, Newwwwww Yorrrrrrrk!” trilled the rest, as they headed to the van to go home.
.
.
gameofcards: "Weekend Getaway."Apple Getaway
Fandom: Glee
Rating: G
Word count: 711
“APPLE picking?!?” chorused Kurt, Mercedes, and Santana, unconsciously aping each other with a hand-on-hip, waving finger pose and expressions ranging from aghast (Kurt) to shocked (Mercedes) to scathing (Santana, of course). “Oh, hell, no!” added Mercedes.
“Aw, c’mon, it’ll be fun!” entreated Sam. “It’s what everyone here does in the Fall. Apple picking in Vermont!” He twirled around and ended up on his knees in a pleading position at Mercedes’ feet.
“No way, Corn Boy,” sneered Santana. “Did you forget? We CAME from a freakin’ country backwater town. And I didn’t drag my fine ass from Nowheresville USA to the Big City only to scuttle back down some other crap dusty country road.”
“Well I’m in favor of it,” proclaimed Rachel, sweeping in from the bedroom. “Part of being in New York is doing what the New Yorkers do. And in Autumn, New Yorkers go apple-ing.”
“Yeah, guys, why not?” Blaine interspersed, slipping his arm around Kurt’s waist. “It sounds like fun to me. Romantic.” He nuzzled Kurt’s shoulder, eliciting a giggle and a kiss.
“Count me in,” chirped Artie. “I could use a change of scenery to hone my mind’s eye.” He peered through a viewfinder, scanning the room. “I can see it now: leafy trees, gentle breeze, and what evil lurks among the tall ladders…..” Even Santana laughed at that, and the energy in the room softened considerably.
“Yeah!” Sam leapt to his feet, clapping. “Monroe’s letting me use his van, all we gotta do is shove his photography stuff to the side. This Saturday. Nice long drive; it’ll be a real weekend getaway!”
***************
“Don’t sit under the apple tree/With anyone else but me,” warbled Blaine as he drew Kurt into the shade. Kurt glanced with dismay at the dirt but relented and dropped down next to his boyfriend. “Hardly can call it an apple tree, without a single apple,” he said moodily.
Sam looked crestfallen as he gazed at the empty battered buckets around their feet. “I’m so disappointed,” he said. “I had such high hopes.”
“High apple piiiie in the skyyyyyy hopes!” sang Artie, as he alternately looked through his viewfinder and sketched on a notepad.
“It’s not so bad,” smiled Rachel as she spun in a circle and brushed her hand through the leaves. “Apples or no, it is nice to be out in the fresh air.” Santana groaned, and groaned again as Rachel struck her customary singing pose and took a breath. "I’d like to build the world a home, And furnish it with love, Grow apple trees and honey bees and snow-white turtle doves…”
“Yeah, baby, I’m glad you dragged us out here. Bright sun, blue sky, it’s giving me my mojo back.” Mercedes put her hand on Sam’s shoulder and shimmied her hips. “They say Eve tempted Adam with an apple,” she growled. “But man I ain't going for that. I know it was her pink Cadillac…” Still singing, she sashayed down the dirt path, beckoning with her finger. Sam brightened, and trotted after her, breaking into a chase as she whooped and ran.
“Mojo, schmojo.” Santana leaned against a tree trunk and produced a nail file which she deployed with an air of extreme boredom. “First rule of new life: Never leave the city.” She crossed her cowboy-booted ankles, and began singing softly, “Get me out/Into the night-time/Four walls won't hold me tonight/If this town/Is just an apple/Then let me take a bite.” She recoiled as Sam and Mercedes pelted back toward the group, kicking up dust and laughing. “Bite the Big Apple, don’t mind the maggots,” snarled Sam, brandishing a wrinkled specimen under Mercedes’ nose.
“Welp.” Kurt stood up, dusted himself off, and reached down for Blaine’s hand. “That’s our cue.”
“Cue?” asked Santana, looking alert.
“Yeah. The Big Apple. Maggots.” Kurt hauled Blaine to his feet and started leading him to the van. “Our cue. Exit Stage South.”
“Yes. Finally!” Santana spun on her heel and strode after them. “New York!”
“New York, Newwwwww Yorrrrrrrk!” trilled the rest, as they headed to the van to go home.
.
.
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Date: 2014-09-15 01:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-09-15 04:21 am (UTC)