December 1

cincoflex and I decided to take up an idea that's been going around, and do an Advent calendar of drabbles for the season. Or, to be more precise, two calendars. Whether we will be able to keep it up for twenty-four days, in the teeth of real life, holidays, and whatever else, remains to be seen!

She's putting together a prompt table. I personally am choosing to do any fandom that takes my very fickle fancy. Given the shortness of such, I won't put them behind a cut unless there are spoilers (which is highly unlikely).

So, December 1:

Fandom: CSI/GSR
Prompt: cinnamon

It had been tricky, finding everything he wanted in the local markets, but Grissom was resourceful, and he hadn’t even had to order from overseas this time. His mother’s recipes were all memorized, and he was looking forward to celebrating the season in a new way.

The door opened, and Sara--pink-cheeked with cold--paused on the threshold of their little Paris apartment. He saw her eyes widen as she sniffed the sweet smells of cinnamon and ginger. “What’s the occasion?” she asked, smiling, eyes fixed on the cookies cooling on racks.

Grissom smiled back. “Christmas is coming, sweetheart.”

December 1

cincoflex and I decided to take up an idea that's been going around, and do an Advent calendar of drabbles for the season. Or, to be more precise, two calendars. Whether we will be able to keep it up for twenty-four days, in the teeth of real life, holidays, and whatever else, remains to be seen!

She's putting together a prompt table. I personally am choosing to do any fandom that takes my very fickle fancy. Given the shortness of such, I won't put them behind a cut unless there are spoilers (which is highly unlikely).

So, December 1:

Fandom: CSI/GSR
Prompt: cinnamon

It had been tricky, finding everything he wanted in the local markets, but Grissom was resourceful, and he hadn’t even had to order from overseas this time. His mother’s recipes were all memorized, and he was looking forward to celebrating the season in a new way.

The door opened, and Sara--pink-cheeked with cold--paused on the threshold of their little Paris apartment. He saw her eyes widen as she sniffed the sweet smells of cinnamon and ginger. “What’s the occasion?” she asked, smiling, eyes fixed on the cookies cooling on racks.

Grissom smiled back. “Christmas is coming, sweetheart.”