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my random ramblings about crafts, writing, books and kids

Millers Kill Mysteries fic: Snippets of Millers Kill (4-6)

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

4. prompt: carry you home

Carry You Home
by jennickels (aka Jen Connelly)
Millers Kill Mysteries
(Russ/Clare)
393 words
rating: PG
WARNINGS: none

Clare gets hurt and needs a little help to get home. Russ is only too happy to oblige.

don’t own… wish I did, but I don’t. No infringement intended.
—————-
Russ stands in the door watching her with penetrating eyes. Clare feels a shiver down her spine but brushes it off.

“I’m fine,” she tells him but he just grunts his disagreement. “Really, it’s just a sprain.”

They both look down at her ankle wrapped in an ACE bandage and elevated on the edge of her ancient loveseat that she’s smooshed into.

“You need to ice that.”

Clare rolls her eyes. “Thank you, Doctor Russ.”

He grins at that then finally enters the room, standing over her. He looks even taller with her sitting on the sofa. He considers her for a moment. Again Clare feels the shiver. She hopes Russ can’t see it. Eventually he comes to some kind of decision, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You should be at home resting.”

“I’m fine.”

“Come on,” he says, grabbing her upper arm gently and tugging her up, “I’ll walk you home.”

“Russ-”

“Don’t ‘Russ’ me. I’m sure you can do paperwork and counseling from your living room at the rectory.”

“I suggested that an hour ago,” Lois calls from the next room.

Russ shoots her a look and Clare sighs in defeat. She hobbles all the way out of the church but the path to the rectory presents the same problem it had earlier in the day when she slipped on the ice and fell flat on her rear. Spraining her ankle in the process.

Russ seems to realize the problem at the same time and frowns. She’s watching his jaw work as he decides what to do then catches her completely off guard by hefting her up into his arms with a soft grunt. Clare yelps in surprise, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck.

“What are you doing?”

He just gives her a little smile then somehow manages to slip and slide over to the rectory without killing either of them. “You really need to have someone throw some salt out,” he says as he deposits her on the couch.

“I’ll get right on that,” she mutters. “You could have hurt yourself. Are you crazy?”

“Only since I met you,” he says just under his breath but Clare hears him. He’s out the door before she can respond but she feels her face burning warm and the tingly shiver is coursing through her body again. It’s a good feeling.

————————
5. prompt: different point of view

Star-crossed
by jennickels (aka Jen Connelly)
Millers Kill Mysteries
(Russ/Clare), Earla
357 words
rating: PG
WARNINGS: none

Earla, the waitress, muses on two of her favorite patrons on a Wednesday afternoon.

don’t own… wish I did, but I don’t. No infringement intended.
—————
Earla has worked at the Kreemie Kakes Diner for a long time, serving coffee up to regulars and large portioned down home cooking to the tourists. She’s seen a lot through out her years. Heard a lot, too. But nothing has put the town of Millers Kill on end like the two people sitting in the window booth, front and center.

She watches as Chief Van Alstyne leans on the table, his head inching closer to the other diner. Reverend Fergusson, in turn, shifts her hand ever so slightly so that it brushes against the chief’s. Earla has heard rumors surrounding the two. In a small town talk travels fast and everyone is fair game. She watches them laugh and look longingly at each other while pretending to not look. She turns away to fill the coffee pot.

Earla’s a god-fearing woman and she knows what the Bible says about this kind of thing. The Chief’s married. The Reverend’s made vows to the church. But when she watches them together she can’t help but wonder how wrong it can really be when two people are so obviously in love. And fighting it every second of the day.

She makes her rounds, chatting and filling mugs, eventually ending at their table. The Chief leans back; the Reverend withdraws her hands, setting them in her lap. They both smile up at her.

“Can I top you off?” she asks.

They both shake their heads as they begin to gather their things. Earla returns to her post at the counter. The Chief pulls on his parka and hat then helps the Reverend with hers, his hands lingering a little longer than necessary on her shoulders. She can see the woman sigh slightly and look disappointed when he moves off but she puts on a brave smile. He tosses a few bills on the table then gestures towards the door.

Outside they zip up and brace themselves against the harsh winter air and walk in separate directions. Earla’s can’t help but wonder if the world can ever be right with those two… star-crossed doesn’t even begin to describe it.

—————————-
6. prompt: 100 words

Working Late
by jennickels (aka Jen Connelly)
Millers Kill Mysteries
(Russ/Clare)
100 words
rating: PG
WARNINGS: none

Another late night ends with Russ heading for Clare’s house.

don’t own… wish I did, but I don’t. No infringement intended.
—————-
The kitchen light of the rectory is still on when Russ rolls by at 11pm. He briefly considers stopping before sighing and nosing his truck onto Main Street, heading for home. He gets a block away before his phone rings. He digs it out of his pocket and checks the caller ID. Clare.

He takes a deep breath and answers. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself. How come you didn’t stop?”

Russ smiles to himself. “You saw me?”

“I was waiting and hoping…”

He doesn’t need asked twice, turning around at the next intersection. He’ll tell Linda he had to work late… again.

next set of stories

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