toasty_fresh (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} toasty_fresh) wrote,@ 2008-08-10 21:52:00 |
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| Entry tags: | bernard, chrestomanci, christopher chant, conrad grant, fanfic, fanfic100, gabriel de witt, jason yeldham |
With Nothing but a Plastic Salad Fork
I need to make some new icons, because I'm thoroughly sick of my current ones. I don't have Illustrater, though, so I don't know what I'm going to do . . .
ANYWAY.
Title: With Nothing but a Plastic Salad Fork
Fandom: The Chronicles of Chrestomanci
Characters: Christopher, Gabriel de Witt, Jason, Bernard, Conrad
Prompt: 032: Sunset
Word Count: 306
Rating: PG
Summary: Christopher is a terrible liar.
Author's Notes: Just a short little sumthin' sumthin'. I love writing fic set during Gabriel's Chrestomanci-ship.
“And then,” Christopher said, looking woodenly forward, “I defeated the whole World Eight D army with nothing but a plastic salad fork.”
There was a short silence.
“But,” Conrad said, noticing the look on Gabriel de Witt’s face and hurrying to explain, “but then we didn’t have salad forks, so we had to eat the salad with dessert spoons.”
“And then we rode away into the sunset on gleaming white horses,” Jason added, obviously thinking that the lie couldn’t get any worse and he might as well just say something for the heck of it.
“Not horses,” Bernard corrected. “Stallions.”
“Stallions,” agreed Jason.
“Indeed,” mused Gabriel.
For a moment he looked silently at the four young men in front of him. Each face admitted the blatant lie they had just told. Each pair of eyes studiously avoided his gaze. The clock on Gabriel’s desk ticked loudly in the stillness that was broken only by the occasional swallow or shuffle of feet.
Finally, when he felt that they had stewed enough, Gabriel said,
“Well, I don’t believe a word of it.”
Four pairs of shoulders slumped.
“I don’t know what you have been doing for the past week,” Gabriel continued, looking forbiddingly down his nose, “nor where you have been or why.” He paused, and folded his fingers together on his desk. “However,” he said, stressing the word, “I have decided to blame it entirely on Christopher, as it was obviously entirely his doing.”
Three pairs of shoulders perked up. One stayed slumped, resignedly.
“Well, yes,” Christopher admitted, sighing. “It really was.”
“Honesty suits you, Christopher,” Gabriel said, smiling a little, as Conrad, Bernard, and Jason slunk out of his office. “You are a terrible liar.”
Christopher colored slightly. “I rather thought the salad fork was a nice touch,” he said.
Gabriel couldn’t help it. He laughed.
