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my random ramblings about crafts, writing, books and kids

Millers Kill Mysteries fic: Snippets of Millers Kill (10-12)

This is a series of 15 drabblish sized stories of life for Russ and Clare in Millers Kill. They don’t relate to each other and don’t necessarily follow canon. Also spoilers for all seven books is possible but since they don’t all follow canon they could really be set anywhere along the line of the books.

These were written for round #2 of writers30days and are dedicated to txduck who introduced me to the very entertaining Clare Fergusson/Russ Van Alstyne Mysteries by Julia Spencer-Fleming. I read all seven books in a matter of like 2 weeks. They kept my spirits up while suffering from a nasty strain of the flu and possible pneumonia.

Back to Prompt Table

10. prompt: “they told me they fixed it”

Mr. Fix-it
by jennickels (aka Jen Connelly)
Millers Kill Mysteries
(Russ/Clare)
264 words
rating: PG
WARNINGS: none

Clare asks Russ to come home and fix something. It’s just not what Russ thought needed fixing.

don’t own… wish I did, but I don’t. No infringement intended.
—–
Russ jams the wipers up to high, a faint whoosh, whoosh, whoosh heard over the sound of midday traffic.

“Please, Russ,” Clare is saying over the phone, “it’s already getting so cold.”

Russ sighs before signaling a turn at the next intersection to head home.

“I thought you were going to call a repairman?” Russ says and even he can hear the distaste in his voice. She doesn’t answer. “Clare?”

“They told me they fixed it.”

“Oh for…” A groan gurgles up along with a healthy dose of disbelief. Must be pregnancy hormones or something, he thinks.

Twenty minutes later he pulls into the driveway of their “brand new” fifty year old house. The garage door goes up with much creaking and groaning but Russ leaves his cruiser parked outside. He stomps through the garage—still crowded with unpacked boxes reminding him of the first time he visited Clare at the rectory all those years ago—and starts fiddling with the furnace off of the mudroom that connects to the kitchen.

After five very confusing and unproductive minutes he gives up, going inside.

“I can’t find anything wrong-” he starts to say but trails off when he sees Clare standing in the very warm kitchen wearing some kind of frilly top that perfectly accentuates her rounded stomach. The words along with his breath catch in his throat.

She smiles coyly at him then wanders off. He can hear her footsteps leading up the stairs and automatically reaches for his radio.

“Fifteen-ten to dispatch… I’m going on break now. Be back in an hour.”

————————–
11. prompt: lost

Lost
by jennickels (aka Jen Connelly)
Millers Kill Mysteries
(Russ/Clare)
387 words
rating: PG
WARNINGS: none

Clare gets herself lost in a snowstorm (again). Will Russ find her in time?

don’t own… wish I did, but I don’t. No infringement intended.
——-
The snow whips around the car, buffeting it and making it rock violently. Clare wraps her coat around her tighter. She bites back the growing worry and accompanying tears that threaten to escape. With shaking hands she reaches out and tries to start the car knowing full well it’s pointless.

The engine grinds and sputters but doesn’t turn over. After a few seconds Clare gives up, her arms reflexively pulling back to her body to retain as much heat as possible. She leans her head back against the seat and sighs. Around the rocking car the snow flutters, blocking her view and piling up on the hood. Over the last hour she’s watched the hood of her car go from candy apple red to a dusting of white and now… now it was solid white going up an inch or two onto the windshield.

She lets her head fall forward, her hands grasped tightly together in her lap and prays. She prays someone will find her and that she doesn’t freeze to death first. She prays for all those people who aren’t so lucky. She prays for her congregation that are hopefully at home and not stuck in the snow. She prays for the officers and rescue works forced out into the storm by idiots like herself. Mostly she prays for Russ because she knows he couldn’t handle finding her car some days later, her cold, lifeless body curled inside. A tear slides down her cheek, burning her cold flesh.

She’s not sure how much times passes before she hears the soft tapping. Her cold, groggy mind doesn’t register the noise at first and she looks around the dark interior of her car with blurry eyes. The tapping pulls her attention to the window. A hand is wiping the coating of snow from the glass then moves to the windshield. As the space is cleared she can see the flashing lights of a police cruiser. A flashlight beam cuts through the darkness and Russ’ face is staring back at her, relief written all over it.

Clare sighs, offering God another silent prayer of thanks then reaches over and unlocks the door. Russ roughly drags her from the car and pulls her into a tight hug.

“You crazy woman,” he mutters into her hair. “When will you learn?”

———————
12. prompt: fly

Slipping By
by jennickels (aka Jen Connelly)
Millers Kill Mysteries
(Russ/Clare)
256 words
rating: PG
WARNINGS: none

Clare gets Russ back up in the air…that’s pretty much a miracle in itself.

don’t own… wish I did, but I don’t. No infringement intended.
————
Clare pulls back on the controls lifting the small craft into the air. She feels the rush of adrenaline as the ground disappears quickly from their view. Next to her Russ clutches onto his seat. She smiles reassuringly at him but she doesn’t think it helps his nerves much.

She doesn’t really blame him and, frankly, she’s shocked he even got in the helicopter in the first place. It’s just a joyride—an old army friend offering her a chance to fly his personal chopper—nothing life or death. She jumped at the chance and Russ, god bless him, wanted to come along. She thought she heard him mumble something about dying together but she brushed it off at the time.

After several minutes of flawless, calm flying Russ begins to relax. He leans back some and pries his fingers from the seat bottom. Finally he sighs and opens his eyes. Clare thinks his gasp is more fear but when she glances over he’s peering wide-eyed out the side window. She smiles as the tension finally leaves his body and he can actually enjoy the view of the countryside slipping by.

“Not so bad?”

He just kind of half nods. “It’s not bad when we’re not crashing and dying.”

She snorts in reply and Russ smiles at her. She knows that together they can do anything, overcome anything. And wonders how she ever made it this far without Russ in her life. From the look on his face she figures he’s wondering the same thing.

next set of stories

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