.drabbles: BSG, HP, L&O:CI, LotR, M7, SGA, WaT
As I did a couple weeks ago when I had writer's block, I held another round of drabble requests for the flist and now present the results below for public entertainment and edification. For the SGA people, in my ignorance I have probably mercilessly slaughtered your favorite character(s), and for that I apologize (seriously, I feel like the biggest clod writing SGA). And, as before, I provide a mass disclaimer:
Battlestar Galactica belongs to SciFi&c., not me.
Harry Potter belongs to the almighty JK Rowling, not me.
Law & Order: Criminal Intent belongs to NBC&c., not me.
Lord of the Rings belongs to the Tolkien Estate and New Line, not me.
The Magnificent Seven belongs to MGM &c., not me.
Stargate: Atlantis belongs to SciFi &c., not me.
Without a Trace belongs to CBS &c., not me.
Spoilers are noted in the description, as are pertinent ratings/warnings and pairings.
And there you have it. Now on with the drabbles, arranged by fandom:
BSG
moosesal: any character; 'empty' and 'red' -
WINE-DARK
It had turned, dammit. The last bit of Caprican red he’d been saving tasted more like the inside of a flight helmet than the finest vintage known to man.
The Old Man - Commander Adama, he corrected himself - watched him from across his quarters, face lined with age and disappointment, as Tigh looked up from the sink and dropped the empty bottle in recycling.
“Was hoping to have something better for Galactica’s commissioning anniversary,” Tigh grunted.
“Water’ll do,” Adama said gruffly. “Almost as rare as South Caprican brandy around here.”
“Ain’t that true,” Tigh said and reached for his water bottle.
verstehen: Tyrol -
THE LABORS OF HERCULES
If he heard “Chief, I needed X fixed” or “Chief, where’d you put the duct tape*?” again, it would not be pretty.
Pretty soon the Cylons wouldn’t have much work to do, because Tyrol would have killed everyone. He’d explained that he wasn’t a god or the legendary Hercules; he was mortal and needed things like food and sleep and time. They’d stared.
“Hey, Chief!” said a loud voice right behind him.
“Shit! Fuck!” Head, meet Viper fuselage.
He looked up through a haze of pain. A nugget, and this was going to be fun. No one would miss a nugget.
* I have no idea if there’s duct tape on the Galactica. But it seems like it would be a really handy thing to have around, don’t you think?
HP
frogy: Remus Lupin, the number 5 -
PHASES
New, crescent, half, gibbous.
He watches the moon pass from nothingness to near-fullness, has done this for almost all the life he can remember. When the fifth phase comes, full moon, inevitable and still on the edge of transformation, the last fragment of his human mind can’t believe this is happening again, is almost surprised.
Five phases of life, too: childhood before, years of crushing loneliness after, years with the Marauders, Voldemort... and now this, alone again except when Sirius comes.
He wonders what will come next, if it will be as predictable as the moon and its circular path.
L&O:CI
arbaasanruth: Van Morrison, "Moondance"/any of the Law&Orders (I picked Criminal Intent, 'cos I know it) -
COLLECTION
Bobby was off to a week-long conference in Cincinnati and he’d coerced Alex into watering his plants. The slog across Queens to water four plants was ridiculous, so she snooped around Bobby’s sterile, Goren-esque apartment.
She avoided the medicine cabinet, but poked through his CD collection, which was as informative. Nerd music - classical, spoken-word stuff - others buried like guilty secrets: Grateful Dead, Janis Joplin, and (she laughed) Van Morrison’s Moondance. Its case was empty.
She hummed a bit, suddenly sad and not quite knowing why.
And when you come my heart will be waiting
To make sure that you're never alone
LoTR
melina123: Faramir, Aragorn, springtime -
ZEPHYR
Faramir wondered if he would taste these things for the rest of his life - infection, despair, feverish blood, cold scent of the dead. The servants of the Tower rushed to and fro, changing bandages, offering water, empty comfort now that Aragorn had gone.
The King returning, though... surely such a blessing must outweigh any sorrow.
He felt the weight Boromir’s death and his father’s, Éowyn’s despair deadening as winter.
Some of it lifted at last with the winds from the West and, from the East, the riders from the Black Gate, bearing news of Aragorn’s victory, first messengers of spring.
applegnat: Gimli, Galadriel; precious things -
FAR ABOVE RUBIES
Sunlight shone on Minas Tirith, the armor of the Dwarves gathered around Gimli Glóins-son, the treasure - fine golden filaments, an Elf-lady’s lock - Gimli held to show them.
“This is the treasure you would bring to Erebor?” Regin Sindrason asked in disbelief.
Before Gimli could speak, another’s voice rang out, mithril-bright, hard as Dwarvish iron.
“And who should judge the worth of treasure more precious to its owner than gold?”
The Dwarves started and turned, stepped back in surprise and confusion, for the Lady of Lórien stood before them.
Gimli tucked the lock of hair away and bowed.
Galadriel smiled.
M7
smilla02: Chris/Vin, from this picture -
THE BOOK OF LIFE
It’s not that Chris wants to keep himself out of the Book of Life. He’d never planned on kissing Vin or fucking him in whatever private corners they can find. It’s kind of like possession and he wonders if he’ll get off easy on account of the devil making him do it.
Chris doesn’t need the devil to tell him that Vin standing there, blue eyes, messy hair, disheveled and wild, is one of the best sights he’s seen in or out of the bedroom.
Vin, of course, catches him looking.
“What?”
“Nothin’,” Chris says, half-smiles.
Yep. Going to hell.
ribby: frustration -
POKER FACE
Ezra appreciated his ability to read other people, for it had gotten him out of God only knew how many scrapes in his life.
So he didn’t know if he was losing his touch, his sight, or if Chris and Vin were beyond his skill, but he knew something was going on, but ask either about it and he might as well have been asking statues. Damnably frustrating.
“Mr. Tanner, please: are you or are you not planning a birthday party for me?”
Vin shrugged.
Ezra stalked away.
One of them would break, he told himself. Sooner or later.
SGA
lachli: McKay, feathers -
ALLERGIES
There were good reasons why Rodney was a physicist.
One: Smartest person ever.
Two: Most allergic person ever. As a physicist he could spend his life inside. Since coming to Atlantis, though, he’d been put in a number of impossible immunological situations, like now.
He wished Carson was here with an antihistamine. Sheppard would probably prefer anesthesia.
“You going to stop sneezing?”
“It’s down,” Rodney whimpered, pointing to the chicken-like birds crowding around them and shedding obscene amounts of feathers.
“If the Wraith find us, it’s your fault.”
“If the Wraith find us, I won’t be sneezing anymore, thank God.”
tanzy: McKay & Sheppard; "It's all sodomy and the lash with you people, isn't it?"/ "Don't ask, don't tell. And that was the Navy." -
COL. SHEPPARD'S GAYDAR
“Somehow, I doubt that a ZPM powers your ‘gaydar.’” McKay snorted. “There’s no such thing.”
“There is too,” Sheppard protested. “Take it from me - Carson? Gay as the day is long, I swear. Ask him.”
“You don’t actually believe this.”
“I don’t believe. I know.”
“How is it again that America possesses the most powerful military force on the face of the Earth?”
“Unresolved sexual tension?”
“It's all sodomy and the lash with you people, isn't it?”
“Don't ask, don't tell. And that was the Navy.”
“Oh, right. How foolish of me.”
“Yeah. The Air Force? All about the bondage, man.”
mardia_: McKay/Beckett; Carson, jealous -
THE GREEN MAN
“You’re jealous!” Carson sounded distinctly - and unnecessarily, Rodney thought - amazed.
“Like I’d be jealous of your fake science,” Rodney muttered, turning back to his computer. Dangerous silence fell, the sort that descended whenever Rodney insulted the medical profession.
“Do I need to point out how many times fake science has saved your bloody life?”
“Details.”
“Look.” Carson leaned over his console, close enough that Rodney couldn’t ignore him. “It was a one-time thing. The next time an exotic new disease attacks, I won’t stay out all hours out looking for a cure. I swear.”
“See that you don’t,” Rodney said darkly.
dancink: Sheppard, hair product -
“You do know that using that… that goo on your hair is going to make you go prematurely bald, right?” McKay asked.
“Urban legend,” Sheppard said dismissively.
“No, I mean… that particular hair goo. It’s the stuff Ford brought back from the last planet, right? The one with the people with crazy hairstyles.” McKay was looking at Sheppard like he was some kind of science experiment. Or, more precisely, at Sheppard’s head.
“Right…”
“You know Specialist Case?”
“Not personally, but yes.”
“Well, as of this afternoon, she’s prematurely bald. Ford gave her a whole bottle of the stuff.”
“Shit.”
WaT
dragontatt: Danny/Martin, chocolate sauce -
GODIVA
“Danny, it’s not the sugar, it’s the percentage of cocoa that’s important.”
“You know way too much about this, Martin.” Danny suppressed a sigh. It was nearly seven, they’d been in the specialty store for an hour, and Martin was still browsing the selection of imported chocolate.
“Look, I’m not going to let you pour Hershey’s syrup on me just because you’re in a hurry,” Martin informed him.
“Fitz, I’m hungry and horny, and I really want to go home.”
“Fine.” Martin pulled a jar off the shelf. “Ready?”
“More than,” Danny said, and hauled Martin out of the store.
smilla02: Danny/Martin, based on this beautiful, inscrutable picture *wibble* -
WHERE ARE YOU GOING
“Hey.” Danny’s voice, careful, like if he talks too loudly, Martin might break. “Where are you going?”
“Home.” Collar undone, tie loose; it should be obvious.
“You want to go get something to eat?”
The invitation throws him and he’s directionless for a moment. Danny’s looking at him like everything’s riding on Martin’s answer, like it’s more than having someone to talk to over breadsticks.
“Sure,” he says, his own answer surprising him.
Danny’s smile is bright, too real and honest; Martin finds he has to look away - too much there for him to think about, although he wants to.
This is might be the basis for something longer... I kind of like this one.
Whew! Lots of drabbles this time around. Delightful, tremendous fun.
Battlestar Galactica belongs to SciFi&c., not me.
Harry Potter belongs to the almighty JK Rowling, not me.
Law & Order: Criminal Intent belongs to NBC&c., not me.
Lord of the Rings belongs to the Tolkien Estate and New Line, not me.
The Magnificent Seven belongs to MGM &c., not me.
Stargate: Atlantis belongs to SciFi &c., not me.
Without a Trace belongs to CBS &c., not me.
Spoilers are noted in the description, as are pertinent ratings/warnings and pairings.
And there you have it. Now on with the drabbles, arranged by fandom:
BSG
moosesal: any character; 'empty' and 'red' -
WINE-DARK
It had turned, dammit. The last bit of Caprican red he’d been saving tasted more like the inside of a flight helmet than the finest vintage known to man.
The Old Man - Commander Adama, he corrected himself - watched him from across his quarters, face lined with age and disappointment, as Tigh looked up from the sink and dropped the empty bottle in recycling.
“Was hoping to have something better for Galactica’s commissioning anniversary,” Tigh grunted.
“Water’ll do,” Adama said gruffly. “Almost as rare as South Caprican brandy around here.”
“Ain’t that true,” Tigh said and reached for his water bottle.
verstehen: Tyrol -
THE LABORS OF HERCULES
If he heard “Chief, I needed X fixed” or “Chief, where’d you put the duct tape*?” again, it would not be pretty.
Pretty soon the Cylons wouldn’t have much work to do, because Tyrol would have killed everyone. He’d explained that he wasn’t a god or the legendary Hercules; he was mortal and needed things like food and sleep and time. They’d stared.
“Hey, Chief!” said a loud voice right behind him.
“Shit! Fuck!” Head, meet Viper fuselage.
He looked up through a haze of pain. A nugget, and this was going to be fun. No one would miss a nugget.
* I have no idea if there’s duct tape on the Galactica. But it seems like it would be a really handy thing to have around, don’t you think?
HP
frogy: Remus Lupin, the number 5 -
PHASES
New, crescent, half, gibbous.
He watches the moon pass from nothingness to near-fullness, has done this for almost all the life he can remember. When the fifth phase comes, full moon, inevitable and still on the edge of transformation, the last fragment of his human mind can’t believe this is happening again, is almost surprised.
Five phases of life, too: childhood before, years of crushing loneliness after, years with the Marauders, Voldemort... and now this, alone again except when Sirius comes.
He wonders what will come next, if it will be as predictable as the moon and its circular path.
L&O:CI
arbaasanruth: Van Morrison, "Moondance"/any of the Law&Orders (I picked Criminal Intent, 'cos I know it) -
COLLECTION
Bobby was off to a week-long conference in Cincinnati and he’d coerced Alex into watering his plants. The slog across Queens to water four plants was ridiculous, so she snooped around Bobby’s sterile, Goren-esque apartment.
She avoided the medicine cabinet, but poked through his CD collection, which was as informative. Nerd music - classical, spoken-word stuff - others buried like guilty secrets: Grateful Dead, Janis Joplin, and (she laughed) Van Morrison’s Moondance. Its case was empty.
She hummed a bit, suddenly sad and not quite knowing why.
And when you come my heart will be waiting
To make sure that you're never alone
LoTR
melina123: Faramir, Aragorn, springtime -
ZEPHYR
Faramir wondered if he would taste these things for the rest of his life - infection, despair, feverish blood, cold scent of the dead. The servants of the Tower rushed to and fro, changing bandages, offering water, empty comfort now that Aragorn had gone.
The King returning, though... surely such a blessing must outweigh any sorrow.
He felt the weight Boromir’s death and his father’s, Éowyn’s despair deadening as winter.
Some of it lifted at last with the winds from the West and, from the East, the riders from the Black Gate, bearing news of Aragorn’s victory, first messengers of spring.
applegnat: Gimli, Galadriel; precious things -
FAR ABOVE RUBIES
Sunlight shone on Minas Tirith, the armor of the Dwarves gathered around Gimli Glóins-son, the treasure - fine golden filaments, an Elf-lady’s lock - Gimli held to show them.
“This is the treasure you would bring to Erebor?” Regin Sindrason asked in disbelief.
Before Gimli could speak, another’s voice rang out, mithril-bright, hard as Dwarvish iron.
“And who should judge the worth of treasure more precious to its owner than gold?”
The Dwarves started and turned, stepped back in surprise and confusion, for the Lady of Lórien stood before them.
Gimli tucked the lock of hair away and bowed.
Galadriel smiled.
M7
smilla02: Chris/Vin, from this picture -
THE BOOK OF LIFE
It’s not that Chris wants to keep himself out of the Book of Life. He’d never planned on kissing Vin or fucking him in whatever private corners they can find. It’s kind of like possession and he wonders if he’ll get off easy on account of the devil making him do it.
Chris doesn’t need the devil to tell him that Vin standing there, blue eyes, messy hair, disheveled and wild, is one of the best sights he’s seen in or out of the bedroom.
Vin, of course, catches him looking.
“What?”
“Nothin’,” Chris says, half-smiles.
Yep. Going to hell.
ribby: frustration -
POKER FACE
Ezra appreciated his ability to read other people, for it had gotten him out of God only knew how many scrapes in his life.
So he didn’t know if he was losing his touch, his sight, or if Chris and Vin were beyond his skill, but he knew something was going on, but ask either about it and he might as well have been asking statues. Damnably frustrating.
“Mr. Tanner, please: are you or are you not planning a birthday party for me?”
Vin shrugged.
Ezra stalked away.
One of them would break, he told himself. Sooner or later.
SGA
lachli: McKay, feathers -
ALLERGIES
There were good reasons why Rodney was a physicist.
One: Smartest person ever.
Two: Most allergic person ever. As a physicist he could spend his life inside. Since coming to Atlantis, though, he’d been put in a number of impossible immunological situations, like now.
He wished Carson was here with an antihistamine. Sheppard would probably prefer anesthesia.
“You going to stop sneezing?”
“It’s down,” Rodney whimpered, pointing to the chicken-like birds crowding around them and shedding obscene amounts of feathers.
“If the Wraith find us, it’s your fault.”
“If the Wraith find us, I won’t be sneezing anymore, thank God.”
tanzy: McKay & Sheppard; "It's all sodomy and the lash with you people, isn't it?"/ "Don't ask, don't tell. And that was the Navy." -
COL. SHEPPARD'S GAYDAR
“Somehow, I doubt that a ZPM powers your ‘gaydar.’” McKay snorted. “There’s no such thing.”
“There is too,” Sheppard protested. “Take it from me - Carson? Gay as the day is long, I swear. Ask him.”
“You don’t actually believe this.”
“I don’t believe. I know.”
“How is it again that America possesses the most powerful military force on the face of the Earth?”
“Unresolved sexual tension?”
“It's all sodomy and the lash with you people, isn't it?”
“Don't ask, don't tell. And that was the Navy.”
“Oh, right. How foolish of me.”
“Yeah. The Air Force? All about the bondage, man.”
mardia_: McKay/Beckett; Carson, jealous -
THE GREEN MAN
“You’re jealous!” Carson sounded distinctly - and unnecessarily, Rodney thought - amazed.
“Like I’d be jealous of your fake science,” Rodney muttered, turning back to his computer. Dangerous silence fell, the sort that descended whenever Rodney insulted the medical profession.
“Do I need to point out how many times fake science has saved your bloody life?”
“Details.”
“Look.” Carson leaned over his console, close enough that Rodney couldn’t ignore him. “It was a one-time thing. The next time an exotic new disease attacks, I won’t stay out all hours out looking for a cure. I swear.”
“See that you don’t,” Rodney said darkly.
dancink: Sheppard, hair product -
“You do know that using that… that goo on your hair is going to make you go prematurely bald, right?” McKay asked.
“Urban legend,” Sheppard said dismissively.
“No, I mean… that particular hair goo. It’s the stuff Ford brought back from the last planet, right? The one with the people with crazy hairstyles.” McKay was looking at Sheppard like he was some kind of science experiment. Or, more precisely, at Sheppard’s head.
“Right…”
“You know Specialist Case?”
“Not personally, but yes.”
“Well, as of this afternoon, she’s prematurely bald. Ford gave her a whole bottle of the stuff.”
“Shit.”
WaT
dragontatt: Danny/Martin, chocolate sauce -
GODIVA
“Danny, it’s not the sugar, it’s the percentage of cocoa that’s important.”
“You know way too much about this, Martin.” Danny suppressed a sigh. It was nearly seven, they’d been in the specialty store for an hour, and Martin was still browsing the selection of imported chocolate.
“Look, I’m not going to let you pour Hershey’s syrup on me just because you’re in a hurry,” Martin informed him.
“Fitz, I’m hungry and horny, and I really want to go home.”
“Fine.” Martin pulled a jar off the shelf. “Ready?”
“More than,” Danny said, and hauled Martin out of the store.
smilla02: Danny/Martin, based on this beautiful, inscrutable picture *wibble* -
WHERE ARE YOU GOING
“Hey.” Danny’s voice, careful, like if he talks too loudly, Martin might break. “Where are you going?”
“Home.” Collar undone, tie loose; it should be obvious.
“You want to go get something to eat?”
The invitation throws him and he’s directionless for a moment. Danny’s looking at him like everything’s riding on Martin’s answer, like it’s more than having someone to talk to over breadsticks.
“Sure,” he says, his own answer surprising him.
Danny’s smile is bright, too real and honest; Martin finds he has to look away - too much there for him to think about, although he wants to.
This is might be the basis for something longer... I kind of like this one.
Whew! Lots of drabbles this time around. Delightful, tremendous fun.