sunday nite times
Good news! The job I thought wasn't going to start until the end of June actually called me late last week, and they wanted me to start as soon as possible. Hey, way to give mixed signals, big government agency, but whatevs. I'm just happy to be doing something that doesn't involve inputting claims and filing (I think I actually sprained something last week while filing... too sad.) All of this meant I went in on Friday to sign all the paperwork and so tomorrow will technically be my second day but my first in terms of actual work. Same kinda deal as last year - Excellent money and a job that is actually interesting most of the time! \o/
Fic prompts filled:
For sekhet666 who wanted
“Scotty.” Jim was trying not to raise his voice but it proved to be difficult over the noise. “This isn’t the house of the Dopterian ambassador. And we kind of need to be there to prevent them from sacrificing Mr. Chekov to their giant piranhas in the next five minutes.”
Beside him, Sulu and Spock were looking on with unabashed curiosity at the spectacle in front of them, their phasers pointed at the ground as they stared.
“Ahh, sorry about that Capt’n, must’ve been a temporary glitch in the nav system. It’s been acting funny since the run-in with the black hole and I havna had the time… Time travel and all that.”
“Yeah, about that time travel thing, do you happen to know what year on Earth they had-”
“Hey!” Sulu pointed his phaser at the new people entering the double-sided doors of the auditorium. “Hold up.”
The two men and woman in robes turned and pointed sticks at them.
Spock raised an eyebrow. “Captain-”
“Wizards.” Jim said faintly.
The music on-stage stopped. A girl in a sparkly pink dress turned, outrage written across her face. “HEY. We are TRYING to put on a musical here!” She rolled her eyes as she took in the group. “Look, your little roleplaying meeting isn’t booked until 4:30, so you’ll just have to wait.”
Without waiting for an answer, she turned her attention back to the stage. “Ryan, put another two beats of jazz hands at the end of the second refrain and Kelsey, I TOLD you I wanted it faster. MOVE IT THIS TIME,” she roared.
On the other end of his conn, Jim could hear Scotty talking to him. “Sorry, Capt’n but I canna find the date where they had wizards on earth. Did I mayhap mishear you?”
The wizards had dropped their wands and were crowding around himself and Sulu and Spock.
“Dudes, those are some sweet Star Fleet uniforms,” said one of them, an ordinary-looking teenage boy with braces.
“Yeah,” the teenage girl agreed breathlessly. She was standing beside Spock and stared with fascination at his ears. “My mom’s been taking me to cons since before I was born and you have the best Vulcan ears I’ve ever seen.”
“They are my natural ones,” Spock answered stiffly. “I have not had any alterations done.”
“Did you get that phaser on Ebay?” The other wizard asked Sulu. “Because I found this awesome replication being sold by this guy in Belgium but he’s asking 300 and I’m not sure I can afford that much…”
Jim resisted the urge to clutch his head with his hands. Some days… “Scotty, beam us up. We’ll try again from the transport dock.”
The three wizards clapped their hands in delight. “Oh and you even sound like him!”
“Who?”
“Captain Kirk.”
Jim’s jaw dropped, but they were slowly fading from sight as the transporter began working. And then they were at their original scheduled destination and original mission of preventing Chekov from becoming fish food.
(back on Earth)
“Whoa,” said one of the wizards.
“Yeah,” agreed the other. “We need to work on adding in effects like that for when we go to Azkatraz.”
“Too cool,” agreed the third. “Do you think they used dried ice?”
From her position on stage, Sharpay groaned in frustration. “OUT,” she shrieked at the wizards. After they had exited, she turned back to her ensemble and smiled. “Honestly, some people have no respect for performance art. Now let’s try again from the top. One, two, three… RYAN, no, that’s NOT HOW IT GOES…”
*
Author's Note: Yeah, I don't even know... tried my best, darling! ;)
For mybabyangel:
“FIFTY-FIVE!” Zeke slaps the table, and lets out a small whoop. “Chad… are you gonna top that?”
Chad can only glare, as his mouth works frantically on the task at hand.
Ryan is sitting across from him, smugly smiling, and even his royal purple hat is tilted at an angle that just screams self-satisfaction. Chad wants to knock it off his perfectly-proportioned head.
“Mwa-ARFGH,” Chad spits out the cherry stem into his palm. The mauled stem is shredded, dripping with saliva and definitely not in the shape he wanted.
“That is dis-gusting,” Ryan says, peering at Chad’s hand. “Also, not tied in a knot.”
“Duuu,” Chad’s shaking his head. “I fink I spwaned somefing.” He sticks out his tongue and wiggles it around. “Owww.”
“Tough luck, buddy,” Troy says, slapping him on his shoulder as he stands up. “Can’t win them all.”
“CANTHO,” Chad says defensively, not ready to give it up to Ryan yet. But Troy’s already spotted Gabriella entering the cafeteria and is off like a rocket to meet her.
Chad looks around the rest of the table for support, but they’re shaking their heads.
“Sorry dude, but I think we have to give this one to Ryan.” Zeke says. “Fifty-five cherry stems tied in twenty minutes. That’s got to be some kind of record.”
“Thank you,” Ryan says, and Chad rolls his eyes at the false modesty in his voice.
The first bell rings, and they all start packing up their bags. Ryan sweeps his pile of perfectly tied-cherry stems into the garbage and Jason puts away his bag of cherries.
Chad wonders as he leaves the cafeteria if the nurse would give him ice- maybe he could say he got hit in the tongue by a basketball…
“Hey.” Ryan’s voice startles him from his train of thought.
Chad turns, and waits for Ryan to catch up. They share the same hall for lockers, up on the second floor.
“Your tongue okay?”
“No fanks to you.”
Ryan looks down, stifling a grin. “You should’ve stopped after the thirty-third one. All the rest just looked painful.”
“Not funny,” Chad says, but he slows down. They’re right by the student council corridor, and the shortcut up the rarely-used stairs is right behind him. He stops and looks at Ryan, raising an eyebrow.
Ryan shifts his bag on his hip and steps closer to Chad. “What if I kiss it better? I can be a gracious winner.” Beneath his hat, his eyes have that look to them, and Chad is suddenly remembering that Ryan tied fifty-five cherry stems in twenty minutes and didn’t seem affected at all… That took some serious tongue gymnastics. He starts to smile and nod but it turns into a wince, as his tongue begins protesting any and all movement. He groans. “Waincweck?” He points to his mouth.
Ryan laughs. “That’s kind of pathetic, you know.” He shakes his head fondly. “All right. Raincheck.”
“Afer skool,” Chad manages. “By my car.”
“I’ll bring the cherries,” Ryan says, still grinning. “You bring the ice.”
*
For ryuutchi whose prompt was
"So, how much are we talking?”
He spoke her language, which was more than she could say for most hunters. And, as Bela swept her gaze over him from head to toe, he was most delicious-looking. His partner was also quite fine, although slightly tall for her tastes. Dressed in rented tuxedos that nonetheless fit their forms… Bela pushed down thoughts and concentrated on the job at hand.
Shame they probably wouldn’t live through the next year. Rookie hunters were such rare commodities and the fact these ones might be willing to enter into a partnership had her mourning their almost-certain passing already.
Well, for a few moment anyway.
“Bela DeGiorgio, supernatural arms dealer, at your service.” She held out her hand.
“Dean Smith. My partner - Sam Wesson.” He nodded, but didn’t lower the gun.
“Shall we talk inside?” She pointed towards the brightly lit stairs and the hordes of people gathered around the museum’s entrance.
His partner stepped up beside him. “Dean, I th-”
“The mummy’s not due to rise until midnight,” Bela interrupted, smiling. “Plenty of time to enjoy canapés and champagne. And discuss business.”
Dean’s eyes lit up. Hitting the safety on, he tucked away his gun. He turned to Sam. “Dude, there’s going to be free food.”
Sam rolled his eyes.
“And we can scout out the place without worrying about being thrown out,” Dean continued. He turned his attention back to Bela. “I’m assuming you have an invitation?”
“But of course,” Bela replied smoothly. “As well as an extension to any guests I care to bring.”
After a few coded looks between Dean and Sam that even had Bela impressed with their complexity, Dean nodded. He and Sam stowed away their guns, and Dean offered her his arm. “Let’s go inside.”
“Lovely,” she said, entwining her arm around his.
As they walked up the stairs, he leaned down to whisper, breath tickling her ear. “If you’re playin’ for the other team, and tonight ends badly, we will hunt you down.”
She hid her smile as she lifted her head up to reply. “I would expect nothing less, Mr. Smith.”
If they survive this hunt tonight, she thinks to herself, she’ll have to think about revising those death odds.
*
Friday Night Lights ficlet requests coming tomorrow! :D
Fic prompts filled:
For sekhet666 who wanted
“Scotty.” Jim was trying not to raise his voice but it proved to be difficult over the noise. “This isn’t the house of the Dopterian ambassador. And we kind of need to be there to prevent them from sacrificing Mr. Chekov to their giant piranhas in the next five minutes.”
Beside him, Sulu and Spock were looking on with unabashed curiosity at the spectacle in front of them, their phasers pointed at the ground as they stared.
“Ahh, sorry about that Capt’n, must’ve been a temporary glitch in the nav system. It’s been acting funny since the run-in with the black hole and I havna had the time… Time travel and all that.”
“Yeah, about that time travel thing, do you happen to know what year on Earth they had-”
“Hey!” Sulu pointed his phaser at the new people entering the double-sided doors of the auditorium. “Hold up.”
The two men and woman in robes turned and pointed sticks at them.
Spock raised an eyebrow. “Captain-”
“Wizards.” Jim said faintly.
The music on-stage stopped. A girl in a sparkly pink dress turned, outrage written across her face. “HEY. We are TRYING to put on a musical here!” She rolled her eyes as she took in the group. “Look, your little roleplaying meeting isn’t booked until 4:30, so you’ll just have to wait.”
Without waiting for an answer, she turned her attention back to the stage. “Ryan, put another two beats of jazz hands at the end of the second refrain and Kelsey, I TOLD you I wanted it faster. MOVE IT THIS TIME,” she roared.
On the other end of his conn, Jim could hear Scotty talking to him. “Sorry, Capt’n but I canna find the date where they had wizards on earth. Did I mayhap mishear you?”
The wizards had dropped their wands and were crowding around himself and Sulu and Spock.
“Dudes, those are some sweet Star Fleet uniforms,” said one of them, an ordinary-looking teenage boy with braces.
“Yeah,” the teenage girl agreed breathlessly. She was standing beside Spock and stared with fascination at his ears. “My mom’s been taking me to cons since before I was born and you have the best Vulcan ears I’ve ever seen.”
“They are my natural ones,” Spock answered stiffly. “I have not had any alterations done.”
“Did you get that phaser on Ebay?” The other wizard asked Sulu. “Because I found this awesome replication being sold by this guy in Belgium but he’s asking 300 and I’m not sure I can afford that much…”
Jim resisted the urge to clutch his head with his hands. Some days… “Scotty, beam us up. We’ll try again from the transport dock.”
The three wizards clapped their hands in delight. “Oh and you even sound like him!”
“Who?”
“Captain Kirk.”
Jim’s jaw dropped, but they were slowly fading from sight as the transporter began working. And then they were at their original scheduled destination and original mission of preventing Chekov from becoming fish food.
(back on Earth)
“Whoa,” said one of the wizards.
“Yeah,” agreed the other. “We need to work on adding in effects like that for when we go to Azkatraz.”
“Too cool,” agreed the third. “Do you think they used dried ice?”
From her position on stage, Sharpay groaned in frustration. “OUT,” she shrieked at the wizards. After they had exited, she turned back to her ensemble and smiled. “Honestly, some people have no respect for performance art. Now let’s try again from the top. One, two, three… RYAN, no, that’s NOT HOW IT GOES…”
*
Author's Note: Yeah, I don't even know... tried my best, darling! ;)
For mybabyangel:
“FIFTY-FIVE!” Zeke slaps the table, and lets out a small whoop. “Chad… are you gonna top that?”
Chad can only glare, as his mouth works frantically on the task at hand.
Ryan is sitting across from him, smugly smiling, and even his royal purple hat is tilted at an angle that just screams self-satisfaction. Chad wants to knock it off his perfectly-proportioned head.
“Mwa-ARFGH,” Chad spits out the cherry stem into his palm. The mauled stem is shredded, dripping with saliva and definitely not in the shape he wanted.
“That is dis-gusting,” Ryan says, peering at Chad’s hand. “Also, not tied in a knot.”
“Duuu,” Chad’s shaking his head. “I fink I spwaned somefing.” He sticks out his tongue and wiggles it around. “Owww.”
“Tough luck, buddy,” Troy says, slapping him on his shoulder as he stands up. “Can’t win them all.”
“CANTHO,” Chad says defensively, not ready to give it up to Ryan yet. But Troy’s already spotted Gabriella entering the cafeteria and is off like a rocket to meet her.
Chad looks around the rest of the table for support, but they’re shaking their heads.
“Sorry dude, but I think we have to give this one to Ryan.” Zeke says. “Fifty-five cherry stems tied in twenty minutes. That’s got to be some kind of record.”
“Thank you,” Ryan says, and Chad rolls his eyes at the false modesty in his voice.
The first bell rings, and they all start packing up their bags. Ryan sweeps his pile of perfectly tied-cherry stems into the garbage and Jason puts away his bag of cherries.
Chad wonders as he leaves the cafeteria if the nurse would give him ice- maybe he could say he got hit in the tongue by a basketball…
“Hey.” Ryan’s voice startles him from his train of thought.
Chad turns, and waits for Ryan to catch up. They share the same hall for lockers, up on the second floor.
“Your tongue okay?”
“No fanks to you.”
Ryan looks down, stifling a grin. “You should’ve stopped after the thirty-third one. All the rest just looked painful.”
“Not funny,” Chad says, but he slows down. They’re right by the student council corridor, and the shortcut up the rarely-used stairs is right behind him. He stops and looks at Ryan, raising an eyebrow.
Ryan shifts his bag on his hip and steps closer to Chad. “What if I kiss it better? I can be a gracious winner.” Beneath his hat, his eyes have that look to them, and Chad is suddenly remembering that Ryan tied fifty-five cherry stems in twenty minutes and didn’t seem affected at all… That took some serious tongue gymnastics. He starts to smile and nod but it turns into a wince, as his tongue begins protesting any and all movement. He groans. “Waincweck?” He points to his mouth.
Ryan laughs. “That’s kind of pathetic, you know.” He shakes his head fondly. “All right. Raincheck.”
“Afer skool,” Chad manages. “By my car.”
“I’ll bring the cherries,” Ryan says, still grinning. “You bring the ice.”
*
For ryuutchi whose prompt was
"So, how much are we talking?”
He spoke her language, which was more than she could say for most hunters. And, as Bela swept her gaze over him from head to toe, he was most delicious-looking. His partner was also quite fine, although slightly tall for her tastes. Dressed in rented tuxedos that nonetheless fit their forms… Bela pushed down thoughts and concentrated on the job at hand.
Shame they probably wouldn’t live through the next year. Rookie hunters were such rare commodities and the fact these ones might be willing to enter into a partnership had her mourning their almost-certain passing already.
Well, for a few moment anyway.
“Bela DeGiorgio, supernatural arms dealer, at your service.” She held out her hand.
“Dean Smith. My partner - Sam Wesson.” He nodded, but didn’t lower the gun.
“Shall we talk inside?” She pointed towards the brightly lit stairs and the hordes of people gathered around the museum’s entrance.
His partner stepped up beside him. “Dean, I th-”
“The mummy’s not due to rise until midnight,” Bela interrupted, smiling. “Plenty of time to enjoy canapés and champagne. And discuss business.”
Dean’s eyes lit up. Hitting the safety on, he tucked away his gun. He turned to Sam. “Dude, there’s going to be free food.”
Sam rolled his eyes.
“And we can scout out the place without worrying about being thrown out,” Dean continued. He turned his attention back to Bela. “I’m assuming you have an invitation?”
“But of course,” Bela replied smoothly. “As well as an extension to any guests I care to bring.”
After a few coded looks between Dean and Sam that even had Bela impressed with their complexity, Dean nodded. He and Sam stowed away their guns, and Dean offered her his arm. “Let’s go inside.”
“Lovely,” she said, entwining her arm around his.
As they walked up the stairs, he leaned down to whisper, breath tickling her ear. “If you’re playin’ for the other team, and tonight ends badly, we will hunt you down.”
She hid her smile as she lifted her head up to reply. “I would expect nothing less, Mr. Smith.”
If they survive this hunt tonight, she thinks to herself, she’ll have to think about revising those death odds.
*
Friday Night Lights ficlet requests coming tomorrow! :D