(no subject)
Ahhhh these are all ridiculous and I don't know why I'm even reposting them, but: icon drabbles from here!
Before she learned his identity, she disguised the wound he gave her under half-sleeved gowns, demure and unremarkable. Now, she pulls out her sleeveless dresses once again and flaunts a sparkling armband, impossible to ignore. She's been asked about it more than once; it's rare to see the famous Cha Song Joo wear the same accessory two days in a row. "I'm starting a fashion," she murmurs, and deploys the particular brand of mysterious smile that graces most of her fashion photographs.
He wants to demand why she takes such risks, but it would be a useless question. The armband is a message particularly for him. This is the woman she has chosen to be: a beautiful killer who dresses elegantly for assassinations, never forgets her lipstick and drapes her bullet wounds with diamonds. A challenge, for the long-ago boy who wanted to protect a pretty, tragic innocent. The masks are gone; they've revealed themselves to each other now.
Not entirely revealed, of course. For example, if he has a choice about it, she'll never know that it's when her hands are bloody that he wants her the most. It's probably only about halfway up the list of things he despises himself for.
"Yankumi!" hollers Ucchi, and Minami adds his voice to make a wobbly chorus. "Yankuuuuuuumi!"
"I don't know if we should be here," mutters Kuma. Kuma is slightly less drunk than the others, and - well, it's not that he's scared of Yankumi's family, not anymore, not really. But his ma taught him to be polite, and it's not polite to come barging up to someone's house uninvited just because you're bored. He's pretty sure the yakuza value politeness too.
"Ehhhh, she doesn't mind," says Ucchi, slinging his arm around Kuma's shoulder. "Yankumi loves seeing her precious students! Yankuuuuu-"
The window swings open. Shin leans out. "Can I help you?" he says, shortly.
"Heeeeeeeeey, Shin!" says Ucchi, waving, and Minami waves too, with great enthusiasm. "Heeeeeey! Nice -"
Which is when it dawns on everyone, in almost exactly the same moment, that Shin is in Yankumi's house, and also that Shin is not wearing a shirt.
"Oh," says Kuma.
"Oh whoa," says Ucchi.
"Shin," says Minami, eyes wide, "are you and Yankumi finally doi-"
"SORRY," says Ucchi, smacking a hand over Minami's mouth just as Kuma yanks both of them backwards, almost pulling them down to the street in his haste. "GREAT TO SEE YOU SHIN HAVE A NICE DAY BYE!"
And then they're all running away down the street, faces pale and eyes wide, because there are some things that you support like hell in principle, but you never think you're going to have to see it.
Shin watches them go, then shuts the window and turns around as Yankumi tramps back in from the bathroom. "Did you hear something? Sounded like -"
Her eyes widen as she takes in his lack of a shirt; the blood rises in her cheeks, and she jerks her eyes up to his face and takes a step back, raising her hand menacingly. "Oi! Wh-what's the big idea, Sawada? We got a dress code in this house, you know!"
Shin shrugs and looks down. "I got hot."
"So turn on the air conditioning, why don't ya!" snaps Yankumi, who appears to be hot too, if you can judge from the flush that lingers on her face.
"Okay," says Shin placidly, and pulls the shirt over his head. "Sorry. You were gonna tell me about that mess Minoru got himself into, yeah?"
"Oh! Right," says Yankumi, wrinkling her nose. "So -"
Shin smiles to himself and settles back to listen, folding his arms over his head. Now he's got the whole law school thing going on, his time's more limited than he'd like - and while he can't blame the guys for wanting to come round and mess with Yankumi, sometimes he'd rather not share.
"What," says Ucchi.
"They were about to lock lips," Noda repeats, "and Yankumi seemed all into it, but then she caught the kids looking through the door and had to go chase them down." He shrugs. "That's the full story from my little brother."
"Aggh!" Ucchi clutches his head. "Does your little brother not get how long Shin's been waiting for this? We have been working our asses off for Shin for, like, years, and their precious moment gets ruined by a bunch of snot-nosed brats?"
"Ahh, Shin'll have another chance," says Minami. "Remember Yankumi in that crazy girl's house? Totally mating season!"
Noda adjusts his cap. "Yeah, well, I knocked some sense into my little brother, anyway. If Shin never loses his virginity, it ain't gonna be a Noda's fault."
"- that's it!" Ucchi brightens. "Okay, Noda - you know where your brat brother's gang hangs out, right?"
Noda grins. He can follow where this is going. "Sure."
"So why don't we stop by," says Ucchi, standing up and lifting a fist, "and give them a little lesson in how the former third year, class four, feels about little brats who poke their noses in where they don't belong and get in the way of the most epically hilarious relationship of all time?"
A general cheer greets this rallying speech. (Hey, it beats hanging out at Noda's place all afternoon.)
Martha took one look at him and folds her arms in front of her. "George," she said , sternly, "what have you done now?"
"Done?" said Washington. "Nothing!"
"Nothing like pushing a schoolhouse full of British children off a cliff?"
"They are our small enemies," said Washington, with dignity. "They will grow into larger enemies."
"And what about putting poor Mrs. Dickinson's hand in a jar of acid?"
"It was only the left hand," protested Washington. "I left her right hand untouched, in an act of mercy."
"George -"
"And it made that party for the Jeffersons, you know it did!"
"Then what is it?"
Washington looked shifty. "Binky," he says, "may have suffered an accident."
". . . you shattered your poor crystal horse?" Mrs. Washington blanched. "George! Do you know how much those things cost?"
"Never mind," said Washington, with a sigh. "I'll just have to go back to traveling by rainbow."
"Officer Javert," said the Chief of Police, feeling a headache coming on, "while we appreciate your zeal, as always, Ms. Jefferson is correct. Failing to pay rent in a timely fashion is not a crime punishable by imprisonment and penalties should be pursued by the landlord, not by officers of the law."
"You would let these criminals go free?"
"Thank you, Officer," said Mark. "And - uh, thanks, Joanne."
"Once a thief, forever a thief!" ranted Javert. "What they want, they'll always steal!"
"We apologize for wasting your time, sir," said Joanne. "Though I think Officer Javert owes my clients an apology as well -"
"There, out in the darkness! Bohemians singing! Fleeing the law," hissed Javert, and then broke into full-throated song. "Fallen from grace!"
". . . dude," said Roger.
The Chief of Police and Joanne looked at each other.
"God be my witness, I never shall yield til they're kicked from their place! Til they're gone with no trace!"
"Wow," said Angel.
"They know their way round the dark, but mine is the way of the law!"
"Is he - is he improvising that?" demanded Mark. "Why is this guy harassing us instead of being on stage where he belongs?"
"Well," Roger said, grudging and a little jealous, "it's a hell of a baritone, I'll say that."
"I bet I could hook him up with an agent," chirped Angel.
Joanne and the Chief of Police looked at each other, for one brief moment united in despair at the vanishing potential of getting everyone out of the police station any time soon. Joanne sighed. "Bohemians!"
"You show great talent." Akio smiled under half-lidded eyes as he leaned in closer to the display of artwork against the wall. "I'm particularly fond of this nude self-portrait," he murmured, tracing one long, seductive finger up the torso of the pale painted figure.
"Dude," snapped Pip, "that's my sister."
"Oh?" Akio straightened. "Even better."
("Okay," said Wendy, a few days later, "I think I've got the rest of it down, but the part I'm still stuck on is that Joe Ninety even had a heartsword for Pip to steal. Joe Ninety! The guy's not exactly on my top ten list of candidates for bringing revolution to the world, you know?"
The Middleman looked irritatingly zen, as was often his wont. "Sometimes a creepy phallic sculpture isn't just a creepy phallic sculpture, Dubby.")
The aide hovering at his elbow flashed three fingers in a secret signal; Junichiro Koizumi quickly explained to Colin Powell that he needed to visit the White House restroom and strode off down the hallway.
"Yes, well?"
"We've received a memo from the Ultramen. Ultraman Belial has escaped, sir," said the aide, in a low voice. "They say the fate of the galaxy is at stake! Only you can lead the Ultramen in this time of crisis, sir."
"Only I," said Junichiro Koizumi. "And am I responsible for this why exactly?"
"At several thousands of years old, Ultraman King feels he is not capable of taking on this new challenge," said the aide, reading rapidly down the memo. "But he recognizes that the psychological boost to the Ultramen of having the legendary Ultraman King fight alongside them would be invaluable. Fortunately, only Ultraman Leo has ever seen Ultraman King, and he was mostly dead at the time, so -"
"So I'm to impersonate the most legendary figure of the Ultramen, is that the idea?"
"Out of all of humanity and Ultramanity, Ultraman King feels that only you have sufficient force of personality and skill at making motivational speeches to become the new Ultraman King," said the aide, apologetically. "Your ability to transform into a giant metal robot and shoot beams of fire from your eyes will be helpful in this, of course. Ultraman King suggests that if you glue a tin-foil beard to your face nobody will know the difference."
Junichiro Koizumi sighed. "Well, I suppose if the galaxy is at stake," he said, transformed into a giant metal robot, and zoomed off into the sky (taking the roof off the West Wing in the process).
Even a former Prime Minister's work is never done.
"I don't understand what you mean," said the editor of the World, rather warily.
"It's simple, isn't it?" Nellie Bly grinned. "One good Jules Verne novel deserves another, is the way I see it. So why not?"
"Because it's impossible, that's why!"
"You said it was impossible for a woman to get around the world in eighty days. Maybe it was, but I did it. Impossible sells papers!"
"Only if it works. And this notion of yours -"
"If it fails, it fails," said Nellie Bly. "But I guarantee you, no other paper will have thought of it."
"Well, I'll tell you this much, Nellie," said the editor, caught up by this idea in spite of himself. "If you can find someone who can build a cannon to the moon - well, if you can find a way to do it, this paper won't sponsor anyone but you up there in it."
He knows the answer already, but it never stops him from asking. Something about his training, or his nature, he guesses, if the two are separable anymore - a 901 soldier doesn't go around walls, he just keeps walking into them. Or through them. But you can't bulldoze through Alice Malvin.
"Second Lieutenant . . . we'll probably be encountering at least one 905 soldier in there. I would like to request to advance before -"
The Lieutenant doesn't even look up from checking the gas tank. "Request denied."
"Ah, but," protests Randel, stumbling through the objection. "Uh, Second Lieutenant, I -"
Alice slams the lid of the tank and wheels around to face him, with military precision. "Corporal! As your superior officer, it is my duty to advance into situations that require my judgment on how to proceed. It is your duty to guard my back, and that is where I want you." Her eyes flick, very briefly, to the lantern at his waist, and then back up again. "You are not to advance before I give the order. Understood?"
"Understood," mumbles Randel, looking away.
They both know he'll have to switch it on eventually; it always goes the same way, no matter how long she tries to protect him for. But he can't help but ask, and, he guesses, she can't help but refuse.
"Well, off you go, then," said Donna encouragingly. "Toddle along to your secret meeting or what have you."
"You're not planning to try and sneak along?" said the Doctor, feeling vaguely disconcerted. "Don't want to demand to be included?"
"God no, I'm still bloody sore all over from the last time," said Donna. "I know the running's bread-and-butter to you, but some of us occasionally enjoy a proper vacation."
Martha grinned, looking briefly five years younger than her actual age. "We'll spend all our time complaining about you, it'll be lovely."
The Doctor blinked.
"Nah, she's just kidding," said Donna, with a matching grin. "We'll talk about planets and travel and stuff, nice to have someone to talk with all that about, but we're not going to talk about you at all."
"It's in the rules," agreed Martha cheerfully. "Part of the vacation."
"Well -" Donna smacked the Doctor's arm companionably. "Have fun, try not to get yourself regenerated, we'll want to recognize you when you come pick me up."
The Doctor wandered back into the TARDIS, feeling vaguely sulky for reasons he couldn't name.
"We're going to that secret meeting, of course," said Martha to Donna, as the Tardis WAH-WAHHHHED its way out this dimension.
"Of course," said Donna, "but wasn't his face funny when he thought for a moment he might not be the center of the universe!"
Before she learned his identity, she disguised the wound he gave her under half-sleeved gowns, demure and unremarkable. Now, she pulls out her sleeveless dresses once again and flaunts a sparkling armband, impossible to ignore. She's been asked about it more than once; it's rare to see the famous Cha Song Joo wear the same accessory two days in a row. "I'm starting a fashion," she murmurs, and deploys the particular brand of mysterious smile that graces most of her fashion photographs.
He wants to demand why she takes such risks, but it would be a useless question. The armband is a message particularly for him. This is the woman she has chosen to be: a beautiful killer who dresses elegantly for assassinations, never forgets her lipstick and drapes her bullet wounds with diamonds. A challenge, for the long-ago boy who wanted to protect a pretty, tragic innocent. The masks are gone; they've revealed themselves to each other now.
Not entirely revealed, of course. For example, if he has a choice about it, she'll never know that it's when her hands are bloody that he wants her the most. It's probably only about halfway up the list of things he despises himself for.
"Yankumi!" hollers Ucchi, and Minami adds his voice to make a wobbly chorus. "Yankuuuuuuumi!"
"I don't know if we should be here," mutters Kuma. Kuma is slightly less drunk than the others, and - well, it's not that he's scared of Yankumi's family, not anymore, not really. But his ma taught him to be polite, and it's not polite to come barging up to someone's house uninvited just because you're bored. He's pretty sure the yakuza value politeness too.
"Ehhhh, she doesn't mind," says Ucchi, slinging his arm around Kuma's shoulder. "Yankumi loves seeing her precious students! Yankuuuuu-"
The window swings open. Shin leans out. "Can I help you?" he says, shortly.
"Heeeeeeeeey, Shin!" says Ucchi, waving, and Minami waves too, with great enthusiasm. "Heeeeeey! Nice -"
Which is when it dawns on everyone, in almost exactly the same moment, that Shin is in Yankumi's house, and also that Shin is not wearing a shirt.
"Oh," says Kuma.
"Oh whoa," says Ucchi.
"Shin," says Minami, eyes wide, "are you and Yankumi finally doi-"
"SORRY," says Ucchi, smacking a hand over Minami's mouth just as Kuma yanks both of them backwards, almost pulling them down to the street in his haste. "GREAT TO SEE YOU SHIN HAVE A NICE DAY BYE!"
And then they're all running away down the street, faces pale and eyes wide, because there are some things that you support like hell in principle, but you never think you're going to have to see it.
Shin watches them go, then shuts the window and turns around as Yankumi tramps back in from the bathroom. "Did you hear something? Sounded like -"
Her eyes widen as she takes in his lack of a shirt; the blood rises in her cheeks, and she jerks her eyes up to his face and takes a step back, raising her hand menacingly. "Oi! Wh-what's the big idea, Sawada? We got a dress code in this house, you know!"
Shin shrugs and looks down. "I got hot."
"So turn on the air conditioning, why don't ya!" snaps Yankumi, who appears to be hot too, if you can judge from the flush that lingers on her face.
"Okay," says Shin placidly, and pulls the shirt over his head. "Sorry. You were gonna tell me about that mess Minoru got himself into, yeah?"
"Oh! Right," says Yankumi, wrinkling her nose. "So -"
Shin smiles to himself and settles back to listen, folding his arms over his head. Now he's got the whole law school thing going on, his time's more limited than he'd like - and while he can't blame the guys for wanting to come round and mess with Yankumi, sometimes he'd rather not share.
"What," says Ucchi.
"They were about to lock lips," Noda repeats, "and Yankumi seemed all into it, but then she caught the kids looking through the door and had to go chase them down." He shrugs. "That's the full story from my little brother."
"Aggh!" Ucchi clutches his head. "Does your little brother not get how long Shin's been waiting for this? We have been working our asses off for Shin for, like, years, and their precious moment gets ruined by a bunch of snot-nosed brats?"
"Ahh, Shin'll have another chance," says Minami. "Remember Yankumi in that crazy girl's house? Totally mating season!"
Noda adjusts his cap. "Yeah, well, I knocked some sense into my little brother, anyway. If Shin never loses his virginity, it ain't gonna be a Noda's fault."
"- that's it!" Ucchi brightens. "Okay, Noda - you know where your brat brother's gang hangs out, right?"
Noda grins. He can follow where this is going. "Sure."
"So why don't we stop by," says Ucchi, standing up and lifting a fist, "and give them a little lesson in how the former third year, class four, feels about little brats who poke their noses in where they don't belong and get in the way of the most epically hilarious relationship of all time?"
A general cheer greets this rallying speech. (Hey, it beats hanging out at Noda's place all afternoon.)
Martha took one look at him and folds her arms in front of her. "George," she said , sternly, "what have you done now?"
"Done?" said Washington. "Nothing!"
"Nothing like pushing a schoolhouse full of British children off a cliff?"
"They are our small enemies," said Washington, with dignity. "They will grow into larger enemies."
"And what about putting poor Mrs. Dickinson's hand in a jar of acid?"
"It was only the left hand," protested Washington. "I left her right hand untouched, in an act of mercy."
"George -"
"And it made that party for the Jeffersons, you know it did!"
"Then what is it?"
Washington looked shifty. "Binky," he says, "may have suffered an accident."
". . . you shattered your poor crystal horse?" Mrs. Washington blanched. "George! Do you know how much those things cost?"
"Never mind," said Washington, with a sigh. "I'll just have to go back to traveling by rainbow."
"Officer Javert," said the Chief of Police, feeling a headache coming on, "while we appreciate your zeal, as always, Ms. Jefferson is correct. Failing to pay rent in a timely fashion is not a crime punishable by imprisonment and penalties should be pursued by the landlord, not by officers of the law."
"You would let these criminals go free?"
"Thank you, Officer," said Mark. "And - uh, thanks, Joanne."
"Once a thief, forever a thief!" ranted Javert. "What they want, they'll always steal!"
"We apologize for wasting your time, sir," said Joanne. "Though I think Officer Javert owes my clients an apology as well -"
"There, out in the darkness! Bohemians singing! Fleeing the law," hissed Javert, and then broke into full-throated song. "Fallen from grace!"
". . . dude," said Roger.
The Chief of Police and Joanne looked at each other.
"God be my witness, I never shall yield til they're kicked from their place! Til they're gone with no trace!"
"Wow," said Angel.
"They know their way round the dark, but mine is the way of the law!"
"Is he - is he improvising that?" demanded Mark. "Why is this guy harassing us instead of being on stage where he belongs?"
"Well," Roger said, grudging and a little jealous, "it's a hell of a baritone, I'll say that."
"I bet I could hook him up with an agent," chirped Angel.
Joanne and the Chief of Police looked at each other, for one brief moment united in despair at the vanishing potential of getting everyone out of the police station any time soon. Joanne sighed. "Bohemians!"
"You show great talent." Akio smiled under half-lidded eyes as he leaned in closer to the display of artwork against the wall. "I'm particularly fond of this nude self-portrait," he murmured, tracing one long, seductive finger up the torso of the pale painted figure.
"Dude," snapped Pip, "that's my sister."
"Oh?" Akio straightened. "Even better."
("Okay," said Wendy, a few days later, "I think I've got the rest of it down, but the part I'm still stuck on is that Joe Ninety even had a heartsword for Pip to steal. Joe Ninety! The guy's not exactly on my top ten list of candidates for bringing revolution to the world, you know?"
The Middleman looked irritatingly zen, as was often his wont. "Sometimes a creepy phallic sculpture isn't just a creepy phallic sculpture, Dubby.")
The aide hovering at his elbow flashed three fingers in a secret signal; Junichiro Koizumi quickly explained to Colin Powell that he needed to visit the White House restroom and strode off down the hallway.
"Yes, well?"
"We've received a memo from the Ultramen. Ultraman Belial has escaped, sir," said the aide, in a low voice. "They say the fate of the galaxy is at stake! Only you can lead the Ultramen in this time of crisis, sir."
"Only I," said Junichiro Koizumi. "And am I responsible for this why exactly?"
"At several thousands of years old, Ultraman King feels he is not capable of taking on this new challenge," said the aide, reading rapidly down the memo. "But he recognizes that the psychological boost to the Ultramen of having the legendary Ultraman King fight alongside them would be invaluable. Fortunately, only Ultraman Leo has ever seen Ultraman King, and he was mostly dead at the time, so -"
"So I'm to impersonate the most legendary figure of the Ultramen, is that the idea?"
"Out of all of humanity and Ultramanity, Ultraman King feels that only you have sufficient force of personality and skill at making motivational speeches to become the new Ultraman King," said the aide, apologetically. "Your ability to transform into a giant metal robot and shoot beams of fire from your eyes will be helpful in this, of course. Ultraman King suggests that if you glue a tin-foil beard to your face nobody will know the difference."
Junichiro Koizumi sighed. "Well, I suppose if the galaxy is at stake," he said, transformed into a giant metal robot, and zoomed off into the sky (taking the roof off the West Wing in the process).
Even a former Prime Minister's work is never done.
"I don't understand what you mean," said the editor of the World, rather warily.
"It's simple, isn't it?" Nellie Bly grinned. "One good Jules Verne novel deserves another, is the way I see it. So why not?"
"Because it's impossible, that's why!"
"You said it was impossible for a woman to get around the world in eighty days. Maybe it was, but I did it. Impossible sells papers!"
"Only if it works. And this notion of yours -"
"If it fails, it fails," said Nellie Bly. "But I guarantee you, no other paper will have thought of it."
"Well, I'll tell you this much, Nellie," said the editor, caught up by this idea in spite of himself. "If you can find someone who can build a cannon to the moon - well, if you can find a way to do it, this paper won't sponsor anyone but you up there in it."
He knows the answer already, but it never stops him from asking. Something about his training, or his nature, he guesses, if the two are separable anymore - a 901 soldier doesn't go around walls, he just keeps walking into them. Or through them. But you can't bulldoze through Alice Malvin.
"Second Lieutenant . . . we'll probably be encountering at least one 905 soldier in there. I would like to request to advance before -"
The Lieutenant doesn't even look up from checking the gas tank. "Request denied."
"Ah, but," protests Randel, stumbling through the objection. "Uh, Second Lieutenant, I -"
Alice slams the lid of the tank and wheels around to face him, with military precision. "Corporal! As your superior officer, it is my duty to advance into situations that require my judgment on how to proceed. It is your duty to guard my back, and that is where I want you." Her eyes flick, very briefly, to the lantern at his waist, and then back up again. "You are not to advance before I give the order. Understood?"
"Understood," mumbles Randel, looking away.
They both know he'll have to switch it on eventually; it always goes the same way, no matter how long she tries to protect him for. But he can't help but ask, and, he guesses, she can't help but refuse.
"Well, off you go, then," said Donna encouragingly. "Toddle along to your secret meeting or what have you."
"You're not planning to try and sneak along?" said the Doctor, feeling vaguely disconcerted. "Don't want to demand to be included?"
"God no, I'm still bloody sore all over from the last time," said Donna. "I know the running's bread-and-butter to you, but some of us occasionally enjoy a proper vacation."
Martha grinned, looking briefly five years younger than her actual age. "We'll spend all our time complaining about you, it'll be lovely."
The Doctor blinked.
"Nah, she's just kidding," said Donna, with a matching grin. "We'll talk about planets and travel and stuff, nice to have someone to talk with all that about, but we're not going to talk about you at all."
"It's in the rules," agreed Martha cheerfully. "Part of the vacation."
"Well -" Donna smacked the Doctor's arm companionably. "Have fun, try not to get yourself regenerated, we'll want to recognize you when you come pick me up."
The Doctor wandered back into the TARDIS, feeling vaguely sulky for reasons he couldn't name.
"We're going to that secret meeting, of course," said Martha to Donna, as the Tardis WAH-WAHHHHED its way out this dimension.
"Of course," said Donna, "but wasn't his face funny when he thought for a moment he might not be the center of the universe!"