So it snowed two Fridays ago, with actual accumulation. When I went to work it was still on the ground. Then, the following day it was so warm that I ran errands in jeans and a T-shirt. Funny thing weather.
It got me thinking about inclement weather fic. It's one of my favorite fic tropes. Heatwave, rain, snow--I love them all. Two stories that quickly came to mind involving snow were from the Forever Knight and Hannibal fandoms. Excessive snow certainly has its uses for any enterprising fic writer.
[Forever Knight] Reckless Pantomime by Eve
Eve is one of my all time favorite FK writers and it was such a pleasure to go back and read through her story collection. Every story is a winner in my book. With Reckless Pantomime, a season 2 fic, a worsening snowstorm strands Natalie after an evening of movie watching.
She admired his red brocade dressing gown. He thanked her, wisely electing not to let on that it had been a gift from Janette. After all, it was a very intimate sort of present, and far more expensive than the socks. Natalie's gift was both idealistic and sweetly practical; she had given him something she hoped he would need in the future. Janette's gift was an unspoken, sensualist claim on his body and affections: when she'd presented it to him, she'd whispered in his ear that she intended for him to model it later. And when she spent the day with him--an increasingly unlikely occurrence these days--she wore it around the apartment, despite the fact that she was never troubled by such petty mortal concerns as temperature or modesty.
[Hannibal] Reindeer Games by Magical_Destiny
Her stuff is absolutely exquisite. This is much more of cracky fic, which she doesn't normally do, but it takes the show to task on its very, very pretty but very unrealistic snowfall. TV!Baltimore/DC certainly gets more snow than its real life counterpart. Of course the show was filled in Toronto so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. I adore Magical_Destiny's take on Hannibal. I love it when he's at his creepy best. The man has zero chill when it comes to Will that it's kind of embarrassing. There's even an appearance by Hannibal's hopelessly devoted patient Franklyn at the tail end, so extra yay.
The Will in his imagination was very like the loose, relaxed Will of this present moment of reality. He’d kiss either of those Wills, he thought to himself, even if the experience was tainted by the flavor of charred and preservative-poisoned gelatin.
Hannibal blinked. Now there was an interesting revelation. A desire to kiss Will — he hadn’t been aware of that before.
Will’s face was still painted with firelight when he pushed the books aside and maneuvered himself to lean against an armchair rather than sit in it. His gaze was far too perceptive for the amount of alcohol circulating in his blood.
“Do you want to kiss me?” Will asked bluntly, words slurring. “Sometimes you look like you do.” He regarded the fire, adding quietly, “Not sure how I feel about that.”
Hannibal felt his heart rate increase just a fraction — how curious. He wondered what he ought to say. Wondered what he wanted to say.
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