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Here is my 100crackfics table
Title: Venting Spleen
Author: entropy_house
Fandom: Blakes 7
Claim: Kerr Avon
Word Count:825
Prompt: 095 Spleen
Rating and Warnings:It's ickyish. But not sexy.
Synopsis: A PGP in which Avon and Blake form a closer bond.
Venting Spleen
Avon was surprised to wake. He was even more surprised to find himself lying on his side and looking into the equally alive, and annoyed, face of Roj Blake. He tried to move, and panicked when none of his limbs would respond. In fact, he couldn't feel any sensation below the neck.
"Yes, you're paralyzed, but don't worry about it," Blake said. "So am I."
"Why shouldn't I worry?" Avon rolled his eyes, trying to see more of his surroundings than a view up Blake's nostrils. "Panic seems an entirely appropriate response under the circumstances."
"Because it will affect your metabolism."
Avon bared his teeth. "Why would you care about my metabolism? Is the bounty less if I'm not in perfect condition?"
"I hadn't realized I'd taken your brains with me when I left," Blake said. "Isn't it obvious I'm not a bounty hunter?"
"Well, now that you mention it, I did wonder why the Federation would send troopers and agents after you if you had changed sides. I thought perhaps it was an economic decision, to avoid paying you."
"After we get out of this mess you've got us into, I think I ought to knock some sense into you."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Someone ought to have given you a good spanking years ago, Avon. You're too long in the tooth to play spoilt brat, you know."
Offended, Avon changed the subject. "You still didn't answer my question about your concern for my metabolism."
"I'll tell you if you promise not to panic. Everything is well in hand, and this is merely temporary."
"You aren't exactly reassuring me."
Blake sighed. "Fine. But if you panic, they'll put you back under with electro-sleep."
"I won't panic. I promise. Cross my heart and hope to ... well, perhaps not."
Blake cleared his throat. "Well, as to the crossing your heart part..."
"What? Blake, panic is sounding better all the time."
"You haven't got a heart. Literally. You took too many blasts and it shattered."
Avon's eyes went huge. "That invalidates the not panicking promise."
Blake went on hurriedly. "It is only temporary. We're on our way to Chenga to pick up spare parts for both of us."
"Both...oh, yes." Avon blushed and looked embarrassed. "I did..."
"You did." Blake looked annoyed. "Three shots really was overkill, don't you think? You pureed my pancreas, ventilated my spleen, and perforated my intestines. Not to mention various other parts. I am glad you didn't aim any lower, though. I'd hate to have someone else's bits, there."
"Ah. You have no guts. So why aren't we both dead? Or are we?" Avon tried again to look around, but all he could see was bits of plain metal walls. Or bulkheads if they were on a ship, as Blake claimed. "This doesn't look much like any of the classical descriptions of hell."
"After Klyn's emergency call flooded the tracking gallery with sono vapour Dr Finklestein scraped us all up off the floor and did some very creative emergency stabilization work. We're cross-connected. My heart is pumping our blood and your body is handling the filtration and cleansing. I don't know how he jiggered the blood to be compatible, but it seems to be working."
Avon was silent for a long moment. "This is disgusting."
"And boring. I've been awake for hours and everyone else is too busy to talk with me. Your crew needed medical attention, too - not that you'd bother to ask about them."
"It's bad luck to mention the dead."
"Your beta superstitions are ridiculous."
Avon pouted.
Blake went on, "I had to argue with Finklestein before he'd let you come around. He was considering simply letting you die once I don't need you."
"And you told him that you'd always need me for my insightful assessments of your plans, my technical genius, and my fighting abilities."
"No, actually, I told him that you were my good luck mascot. Finklestein's a beta, too."
Avon closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and looked resigned. "All right, I'm awake and I'm not panicking. What did you want to discuss?"
"There's a funny noise in the teleport we picked up from your crashed ship."
"There always is. It's supposed to be like that. And what are you doing with my ship?"
"Salvage rights. You crashed it on my planet."
"Which I wouldn't have done if you'd warned me about your blockade."
"I would have if you'd had the courtesy to call ahead!"
"I would have if you hadn't ignored all my messages for the last year!"
"Oh, and I was supposed to leap up for joy when you told me of your latest 'mission'. Honestly, Avon, you let Servalan lead you around by the nose."
"You don't need to bring my nose into this!"
Vila listened in from the corridor, nodded, and went back to report to Dayna, Tarrant and Soolin that yes, things were back to normal.
Title: Venting Spleen
Author: entropy_house
Fandom: Blakes 7
Claim: Kerr Avon
Word Count:825
Prompt: 095 Spleen
Rating and Warnings:It's ickyish. But not sexy.
Synopsis: A PGP in which Avon and Blake form a closer bond.
Venting Spleen
Avon was surprised to wake. He was even more surprised to find himself lying on his side and looking into the equally alive, and annoyed, face of Roj Blake. He tried to move, and panicked when none of his limbs would respond. In fact, he couldn't feel any sensation below the neck.
"Yes, you're paralyzed, but don't worry about it," Blake said. "So am I."
"Why shouldn't I worry?" Avon rolled his eyes, trying to see more of his surroundings than a view up Blake's nostrils. "Panic seems an entirely appropriate response under the circumstances."
"Because it will affect your metabolism."
Avon bared his teeth. "Why would you care about my metabolism? Is the bounty less if I'm not in perfect condition?"
"I hadn't realized I'd taken your brains with me when I left," Blake said. "Isn't it obvious I'm not a bounty hunter?"
"Well, now that you mention it, I did wonder why the Federation would send troopers and agents after you if you had changed sides. I thought perhaps it was an economic decision, to avoid paying you."
"After we get out of this mess you've got us into, I think I ought to knock some sense into you."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Someone ought to have given you a good spanking years ago, Avon. You're too long in the tooth to play spoilt brat, you know."
Offended, Avon changed the subject. "You still didn't answer my question about your concern for my metabolism."
"I'll tell you if you promise not to panic. Everything is well in hand, and this is merely temporary."
"You aren't exactly reassuring me."
Blake sighed. "Fine. But if you panic, they'll put you back under with electro-sleep."
"I won't panic. I promise. Cross my heart and hope to ... well, perhaps not."
Blake cleared his throat. "Well, as to the crossing your heart part..."
"What? Blake, panic is sounding better all the time."
"You haven't got a heart. Literally. You took too many blasts and it shattered."
Avon's eyes went huge. "That invalidates the not panicking promise."
Blake went on hurriedly. "It is only temporary. We're on our way to Chenga to pick up spare parts for both of us."
"Both...oh, yes." Avon blushed and looked embarrassed. "I did..."
"You did." Blake looked annoyed. "Three shots really was overkill, don't you think? You pureed my pancreas, ventilated my spleen, and perforated my intestines. Not to mention various other parts. I am glad you didn't aim any lower, though. I'd hate to have someone else's bits, there."
"Ah. You have no guts. So why aren't we both dead? Or are we?" Avon tried again to look around, but all he could see was bits of plain metal walls. Or bulkheads if they were on a ship, as Blake claimed. "This doesn't look much like any of the classical descriptions of hell."
"After Klyn's emergency call flooded the tracking gallery with sono vapour Dr Finklestein scraped us all up off the floor and did some very creative emergency stabilization work. We're cross-connected. My heart is pumping our blood and your body is handling the filtration and cleansing. I don't know how he jiggered the blood to be compatible, but it seems to be working."
Avon was silent for a long moment. "This is disgusting."
"And boring. I've been awake for hours and everyone else is too busy to talk with me. Your crew needed medical attention, too - not that you'd bother to ask about them."
"It's bad luck to mention the dead."
"Your beta superstitions are ridiculous."
Avon pouted.
Blake went on, "I had to argue with Finklestein before he'd let you come around. He was considering simply letting you die once I don't need you."
"And you told him that you'd always need me for my insightful assessments of your plans, my technical genius, and my fighting abilities."
"No, actually, I told him that you were my good luck mascot. Finklestein's a beta, too."
Avon closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and looked resigned. "All right, I'm awake and I'm not panicking. What did you want to discuss?"
"There's a funny noise in the teleport we picked up from your crashed ship."
"There always is. It's supposed to be like that. And what are you doing with my ship?"
"Salvage rights. You crashed it on my planet."
"Which I wouldn't have done if you'd warned me about your blockade."
"I would have if you'd had the courtesy to call ahead!"
"I would have if you hadn't ignored all my messages for the last year!"
"Oh, and I was supposed to leap up for joy when you told me of your latest 'mission'. Honestly, Avon, you let Servalan lead you around by the nose."
"You don't need to bring my nose into this!"
Vila listened in from the corridor, nodded, and went back to report to Dayna, Tarrant and Soolin that yes, things were back to normal.