Five Ficlets: Yami no Matsuei, Harry Potter, My Chem, Chuck, CSI
These are ficlets I wrote for bribitribbit's kisses and cuddles battle.
Demon Copiers: Watari/Tasumi
Tatsumi was having a bad day. Tsuzuki had gone over budget. Again. Tsuzuki had gone through another partner. Again. The copier had broken, and while trying to fix it, Tatsumi had ended up with toner all over his fingers and the cuffs of his shirtsleeves. The copier had also tried to eat his tie and had half digested it before Tatsumi had been able to pull it free. The bottom of it was somewhere in the bowels of the copier. He wanted to go home.
But it was only 9:47 in the morning.
And Konoe-san was looking for him.
Tatsumi hid in Watari’s lab. It was a natural reaction. Going from a high-level stress environment to a lower-level stress environment. Lower-level. Not low-level. Exploding flasks were always better than hungry copiers.
“Tatsumi-kun!” Watari burbled happily when he finally looked up from whatever experiment he was conducting. He frowned. “Why so glum? Does somebody need a hug?”
003 cooed in agreement.
“No,” Tatsumi snapped. “I don’t need a hug.”
“Really?” Watari asked incredulously. “Because you look like you need a hug.”
Tatsumi glowered at Watari.
Watari grinned back at Tatsumi. And launched himself at Tatsumi, clinging to him like a drowning octopus.
After a moment went by, Tatsumi resigned himself to a clinging Watari. Tatsumi briefly played with the hair at the base of Watari’s skull - the small tendrils that hadn’t been pulled into his ponytail.
“Don’t you feel much better?” Watari mumbled happily into Tatsumi’s shoulder.
Tatsumi actually did, but he wasn’t going to give up that information so freely so early in the morning.
“Tell me about your current experiment,” Tatsumi asked into Watari’s hair.
Watari explained animatedly and didn’t remove himself from Tatsumi until one of his flasks exploded.
---
It's been ages since I've written Yami. Apologies for inaccuracies.
---
Untitled: George/Lee
Fred and George had happened upon some fireworks. Lee used the phrase “happened upon” very loosely. They had happened upon fireworks like people happened upon water in the lake or happened upon trees in the Forbidden Forest. Then Fred and George had happened upon the unlocked broom shed, and brooms had somehow slipped into their hands. If asked, Lee and Angelina had seen nothing.
That was how the four of them had ended up on the top of a mountain in the middle of the night under a heavy wool blanket. The fireworks had done their thing, and now Fred and Angelina were being disgusting, exploring each other’s tonsils. George and Lee - after the running commentary - grew bored and had wandered to the other side to the other side of the mountain peak, taking their blanket with them.
They shared a rock and a blanket. Even though it was almost June, the nights were still cold, and they ended up pressed against each other. Although that didn’t explain George’s palm warm against the inside of Lee’s thigh.
Goosebumps rose on Lee’s naked arms.
‘You cold?’ George asked, voice slurring a bit with fatigue.
Lee shook his head and burrowed into George’s side. ‘I’d rather go inside where it’s warmer,' he whispered into George’s ear, then kissed it. ‘Our dorm is empty… unless you’re too sleepy.’
George smirked. ‘I am suddenly astoundingly awake.’
---
Zombies on a Plane: Frank/Gerard
They were on their way home, somewhere between Belfast and Newark. Their European tour had been exhausting in the best way possible. Except Gerard couldn’t sleep. Ray was passed out behind him. Bob was passed out across the aisle. Mikey was passed out in front of him. And Frank - Frank was killing zombies on his PSP next to Gerard, his tongue sticking out in concentration.
Gerard poked Frank’s arm.
Frank jumped and yelped. “Zombies! On the plane!”
Bob cracked open an eye, reaching across the aisle, across Gerard, and smacked Frank.
Frank pouted at Bob, but Bob had already gone back to sleep. Well, he had closed his eyes again.
“I can’t sleep,” Gerard told Frank plaintively.
“Zombies?” Frank asked solemnly, then ruined it by giggling.
Gerard shook his head, stopped, frowned, then nodded. One never knew where the zombie apocalypse would start. But that wasn’t all.
“Let’s make a zombie force field,” Frank suggested.
As it turned out, Frank’s idea of a zombie force field was throwing a blanket over the seat in front of them, over their heads, to their seat back, creating a blanket fortress.
“Now they can’t eat our brains,” Frank said with a nod. Except for the part that the side facing the aisle was completely open.
“Cool,” Gerard said with a smile. He dug out his laptop. “Want to watch The Last Unicorn?”
Frank molded into Gerard’s side. “Yes.”
---
Flu Season: Devon (Captain Awesome)/Ellie
Ellie was half an hour from finishing her second double shift in as many days. There was not enough coffee in the world that would keep her awake after she was home. She fantasized about her pillow. And smooth cotton sheets. And not having to deal with people.
There had been a flu outbreak. It wasn’t a strain that the CDC had created a vaccine for either, so the outbreak had accompanied widespread panic and rumors of bioterrorism. Ellie had been putting out those fires left and right as well as explaining that antibiotics wouldn’t cure the flu. It had been easy to squelch the idea of bioterrorism, but the idea that antibiotics would cure the flu (virus!) was holding on for dear life. Every ten minutes she had to explain that antibiotics killed bacteria, not viruses. It was in the name.
People were exhausting.
Someone then hijacked her, dragging her into the only vacant room in the hospital. She was too fatigued to fight.
“Hey, babe,” Devon said.
“Oh,” Ellie said. She reached up and kissed him. “Isn’t today your day off?”
“I’m here to take you home,” he explained.
“I still have half an hour left on my - ”
“No, babe, doctor’s orders.” He presented her with a bouquet of roses. Not ones from the hospital gift shop either.
“That’s sweet of you, Devon, but - ”
“C’mon. Let’s sneak you out.” He took her by the shoulders and led her to the locker room.
“Thanks,” Ellie said, smiling into her roses.
“Anytime,” he smiled back.
---
Continental Divide: Gil/Sara
Monteverde:
Sara looked out over the whole nation. She could see the Pacific, and she could see the Caribbean, albeit hazily. Wind blew her hair in all directions as it blew from coast to coast. A cruise ship was in the process of docking at a Caribbean port. It was raining to the south. Dragonflies zoomed through the fronds of tree ferns. Wisps of clouds flew quickly overhead. Tiny epiphytes clung desperately to branches, facing away from the humid wind.
Gil stared at her as she brushed her hair away from her eyes and from where it clung to her moist smile. It had been years since he had last seem her smile so freely. He came up behind her and eased his hands around her waist.
“Aren’t we lucky to be here?” Sara asked, awe softening her voice.
Gil agreed. “The damselflies are hiding from the wind in the new fronds,” he said.
Sara turned around. “We didn’t come all the way to Costa Rica for the bugs,” she pointed out.
“Not diptera, no. Cleoptera, yes,” he said solemnly.
“Well, I came for the ethnobotany,” Sara said primly. “There’s a walk that starts from the Ranger’s Station at 3. Do you want to join me?” she offered. “Or do you want to watch the wasps fight the hummingbirds for sugar water?”
“Wherever you want me to go, I’ll follow.”
Demon Copiers: Watari/Tasumi
Tatsumi was having a bad day. Tsuzuki had gone over budget. Again. Tsuzuki had gone through another partner. Again. The copier had broken, and while trying to fix it, Tatsumi had ended up with toner all over his fingers and the cuffs of his shirtsleeves. The copier had also tried to eat his tie and had half digested it before Tatsumi had been able to pull it free. The bottom of it was somewhere in the bowels of the copier. He wanted to go home.
But it was only 9:47 in the morning.
And Konoe-san was looking for him.
Tatsumi hid in Watari’s lab. It was a natural reaction. Going from a high-level stress environment to a lower-level stress environment. Lower-level. Not low-level. Exploding flasks were always better than hungry copiers.
“Tatsumi-kun!” Watari burbled happily when he finally looked up from whatever experiment he was conducting. He frowned. “Why so glum? Does somebody need a hug?”
003 cooed in agreement.
“No,” Tatsumi snapped. “I don’t need a hug.”
“Really?” Watari asked incredulously. “Because you look like you need a hug.”
Tatsumi glowered at Watari.
Watari grinned back at Tatsumi. And launched himself at Tatsumi, clinging to him like a drowning octopus.
After a moment went by, Tatsumi resigned himself to a clinging Watari. Tatsumi briefly played with the hair at the base of Watari’s skull - the small tendrils that hadn’t been pulled into his ponytail.
“Don’t you feel much better?” Watari mumbled happily into Tatsumi’s shoulder.
Tatsumi actually did, but he wasn’t going to give up that information so freely so early in the morning.
“Tell me about your current experiment,” Tatsumi asked into Watari’s hair.
Watari explained animatedly and didn’t remove himself from Tatsumi until one of his flasks exploded.
---
It's been ages since I've written Yami. Apologies for inaccuracies.
---
Untitled: George/Lee
Fred and George had happened upon some fireworks. Lee used the phrase “happened upon” very loosely. They had happened upon fireworks like people happened upon water in the lake or happened upon trees in the Forbidden Forest. Then Fred and George had happened upon the unlocked broom shed, and brooms had somehow slipped into their hands. If asked, Lee and Angelina had seen nothing.
That was how the four of them had ended up on the top of a mountain in the middle of the night under a heavy wool blanket. The fireworks had done their thing, and now Fred and Angelina were being disgusting, exploring each other’s tonsils. George and Lee - after the running commentary - grew bored and had wandered to the other side to the other side of the mountain peak, taking their blanket with them.
They shared a rock and a blanket. Even though it was almost June, the nights were still cold, and they ended up pressed against each other. Although that didn’t explain George’s palm warm against the inside of Lee’s thigh.
Goosebumps rose on Lee’s naked arms.
‘You cold?’ George asked, voice slurring a bit with fatigue.
Lee shook his head and burrowed into George’s side. ‘I’d rather go inside where it’s warmer,' he whispered into George’s ear, then kissed it. ‘Our dorm is empty… unless you’re too sleepy.’
George smirked. ‘I am suddenly astoundingly awake.’
---
Zombies on a Plane: Frank/Gerard
They were on their way home, somewhere between Belfast and Newark. Their European tour had been exhausting in the best way possible. Except Gerard couldn’t sleep. Ray was passed out behind him. Bob was passed out across the aisle. Mikey was passed out in front of him. And Frank - Frank was killing zombies on his PSP next to Gerard, his tongue sticking out in concentration.
Gerard poked Frank’s arm.
Frank jumped and yelped. “Zombies! On the plane!”
Bob cracked open an eye, reaching across the aisle, across Gerard, and smacked Frank.
Frank pouted at Bob, but Bob had already gone back to sleep. Well, he had closed his eyes again.
“I can’t sleep,” Gerard told Frank plaintively.
“Zombies?” Frank asked solemnly, then ruined it by giggling.
Gerard shook his head, stopped, frowned, then nodded. One never knew where the zombie apocalypse would start. But that wasn’t all.
“Let’s make a zombie force field,” Frank suggested.
As it turned out, Frank’s idea of a zombie force field was throwing a blanket over the seat in front of them, over their heads, to their seat back, creating a blanket fortress.
“Now they can’t eat our brains,” Frank said with a nod. Except for the part that the side facing the aisle was completely open.
“Cool,” Gerard said with a smile. He dug out his laptop. “Want to watch The Last Unicorn?”
Frank molded into Gerard’s side. “Yes.”
---
Flu Season: Devon (Captain Awesome)/Ellie
Ellie was half an hour from finishing her second double shift in as many days. There was not enough coffee in the world that would keep her awake after she was home. She fantasized about her pillow. And smooth cotton sheets. And not having to deal with people.
There had been a flu outbreak. It wasn’t a strain that the CDC had created a vaccine for either, so the outbreak had accompanied widespread panic and rumors of bioterrorism. Ellie had been putting out those fires left and right as well as explaining that antibiotics wouldn’t cure the flu. It had been easy to squelch the idea of bioterrorism, but the idea that antibiotics would cure the flu (virus!) was holding on for dear life. Every ten minutes she had to explain that antibiotics killed bacteria, not viruses. It was in the name.
People were exhausting.
Someone then hijacked her, dragging her into the only vacant room in the hospital. She was too fatigued to fight.
“Hey, babe,” Devon said.
“Oh,” Ellie said. She reached up and kissed him. “Isn’t today your day off?”
“I’m here to take you home,” he explained.
“I still have half an hour left on my - ”
“No, babe, doctor’s orders.” He presented her with a bouquet of roses. Not ones from the hospital gift shop either.
“That’s sweet of you, Devon, but - ”
“C’mon. Let’s sneak you out.” He took her by the shoulders and led her to the locker room.
“Thanks,” Ellie said, smiling into her roses.
“Anytime,” he smiled back.
---
Continental Divide: Gil/Sara
Monteverde:
Sara looked out over the whole nation. She could see the Pacific, and she could see the Caribbean, albeit hazily. Wind blew her hair in all directions as it blew from coast to coast. A cruise ship was in the process of docking at a Caribbean port. It was raining to the south. Dragonflies zoomed through the fronds of tree ferns. Wisps of clouds flew quickly overhead. Tiny epiphytes clung desperately to branches, facing away from the humid wind.
Gil stared at her as she brushed her hair away from her eyes and from where it clung to her moist smile. It had been years since he had last seem her smile so freely. He came up behind her and eased his hands around her waist.
“Aren’t we lucky to be here?” Sara asked, awe softening her voice.
Gil agreed. “The damselflies are hiding from the wind in the new fronds,” he said.
Sara turned around. “We didn’t come all the way to Costa Rica for the bugs,” she pointed out.
“Not diptera, no. Cleoptera, yes,” he said solemnly.
“Well, I came for the ethnobotany,” Sara said primly. “There’s a walk that starts from the Ranger’s Station at 3. Do you want to join me?” she offered. “Or do you want to watch the wasps fight the hummingbirds for sugar water?”
“Wherever you want me to go, I’ll follow.”