{"id":1831,"date":"2012-09-16T00:06:15","date_gmt":"2012-09-16T00:06:15","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/azar.ink-and-quill.com\/?p=1831"},"modified":"2012-09-24T06:04:39","modified_gmt":"2012-09-24T06:04:39","slug":"fic-popcorn-quiz-mw-declanmiranda","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/azar.ink-and-quill.com\/?p=1831","title":{"rendered":"Fic: Popcorn Quiz (MW, Declan\/Miranda)"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><em><strong>Author&#8217;s Note:<\/strong> Why the previous story was written in first person and this one came to me in third person, I don&#8217;t know. That&#8217;s just how the muses were talking. Dedicated to to Deb, &#8217;cause she was sick and wanted fics and I&#8217;d owed her this one forever anyway. \ud83d\ude42<\/em><\/p>\n<hr \/>\n<p>&#8220;&#8230;&#8217;Then where the hell are they?&#8217; &#8216;The appropriate question is &#8220;<em>WHEN <\/em>the hell are they?&#8221;! Einstein has just become the world&#8217;s first time traveler! I sent him into the future! One minute into the future, to be exact&#8230;'&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Declan Dunn reached for the bowl of popcorn as he continued to recite Doc Brown&#8217;s dialogue along with Christopher Lloyd on the screen.<\/p>\n<p>Miranda flashed him a disgruntled look from the other side of the bowl. &#8220;Declan, please stop that.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>He looked up at her, a merry smile teasing his face as he tossed a piece of popcorn into the air, catching it with his tongue. &#8220;Stop what?&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;That&#8230;saying the lines with the characters.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Much to her consternation, Declan&#8217;s grin just got wider. &#8220;Why? Does it bother you?&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Well&#8230;yes, Declan, it bothers me.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Why?&#8221; Another piece of popcorn found his mouth.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Because&#8211;&#8221; Miranda struggled to answer in the mostly unfamiliar language of leisure. &#8220;I&#8230;what difference does it make?&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>He shrugged, turning his attention back to the video. &#8220;None, I guess.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>For a moment the small audience was quiet, then, softly&#8230;<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;&#8216;Oh my God. They&#8217;ve found me. I don&#8217;t know how, but they&#8217;ve found me. Run for it, Marty!&#8217; &#8216;Who?&#8217; &#8216;Who do you think? The Libyans!'&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Declan!&#8221; Miranda&#8217;s voice sounded pained. &#8220;<em>Please<\/em> stop.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>The anthropologist laughed and turned a face to her that was pure mischief. &#8220;Make me.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;What?&#8221; Now she sounded incredulous.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Make me,&#8221; he repeated, dark eyes dancing behind his glasses.<\/p>\n<p>His assistant&#8217;s often-bland expression had turned dumbfounded by this point, and she began to sputter. &#8220;How?&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Declan shrugged, his eyes still dancing. &#8220;I dunno. That&#8217;s up to you.&#8221; He turned back to the screen. &#8220;You know, Einstein looks kinda like Mole, don&#8217;t you think?&#8221; he commented, pointing to the dog in the DeLorean which had just reappeared.<\/p>\n<p>He then slipped comfortably back into reciting the lines.<\/p>\n<p>This was getting her nowhere, and Miranda was getting desperate. Casting a furtive glance in Declan&#8217;s direction, she then searched the room for some means of distraction. The answer, when it came to her, was sitting right between them.<\/p>\n<p>He yelped in surprise, jumping to his feet, amidst a shower of golden-white puffs. Incredulous but pleased brown eyes swung to meet hers. &#8220;What&#8217;d you do that for?&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;You said to make you stop!&#8221; she protested.<\/p>\n<p>Declan nodded, still amazed. &#8220;Yeah, but I didn&#8217;t expect something so&#8230;&#8221; His eyes drifted down to the floor, which was now carpeted with popcorn. &#8220;&#8230;resourceful.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Standing with the empty bowl in her hands, Miranda found herself unable to fight a bubbling laugh. It crept up inside her until finally it fought its way through her lips and broke merrily forth from them.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Ah ha!&#8221; he pounced on her moment of weakness. &#8220;I knew it was in there somewhere!&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>She stared at him in disbelief, trying unsuccessfully to tuck the smile back away in a corner. &#8220;You mean, all that&#8230;&#8221; One hand swept out broadly to include the still-running video tape, the mess on the floor, and Mole calmly cleaning it up. &#8220;&#8230;all that was to get me to laugh?&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Declan shrugged, a calm self-deprecating smile gracing his face and twinkling in his eyes. &#8220;Pretty much, yup.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Declan, you&#8230;you are impossible.&#8221; Trying to look exasperated but failing because she couldn&#8217;t hide her amusement, Miranda shoved the bowl into his hands. &#8220;So since this was all your idea, you get to clean up the popcorn.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>He glanced down at the floor, then back up at her with a grin. &#8220;Nah, let Mole do it.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Tossing the empty bowl onto his desk, Declan settled himself back into his spot on the floor, brushing a few popcorn kernels out from under himself as he did so. Then he patted the place beside him where she had been sitting. &#8220;Come on, you&#8217;re missing one of the best parts!&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>With another amused shake of the head, Miranda curled her legs under her and sank back to the floor. Still smiling, Declan reached an arm out and gave her shoulders a friendly squeeze just as Marty ran over one of Old Man Peabody&#8217;s pines in the DeLorean.<\/p>\n<p>She didn&#8217;t flinch from his touch.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Author&#8217;s Note: Why the previous story was written in first person and this one came to me in third person, I don&#8217;t know. That&#8217;s just how the muses were talking. Dedicated to to Deb, &#8217;cause she was sick and wanted &hellip; <a href=\"http:\/\/azar.ink-and-quill.com\/?p=1831\">Continue reading <span class=\"meta-nav\">&rarr;<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[633,158,63],"tags":[605,630,193,342,150,263,604,629,601,677,227],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/azar.ink-and-quill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1831"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/azar.ink-and-quill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/azar.ink-and-quill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/azar.ink-and-quill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/azar.ink-and-quill.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1831"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"http:\/\/azar.ink-and-quill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1831\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1943,"href":"http:\/\/azar.ink-and-quill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1831\/revisions\/1943"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/azar.ink-and-quill.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1831"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/azar.ink-and-quill.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1831"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/azar.ink-and-quill.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1831"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}