FIC: (3) drabbles, from bridge2sickbay round 17
I'm a little behind with posting this batch. ^___^; I also have a round of kink meme fills and a lonely little comment_fic fill to post. Though, I've been waiting to fill more over there before posting that.
title: a quiet cup
rating/warnings: G, none
wordcount: ~190
original post: here
prompt: Spock, McCoy - Teapot
Leonard has a headache from the events of the day and doesn't even have it in him to say hello when the door to Spock's quarters swishes open. He doesn't snark at the vulcan when he raises an eyebrow, doesn't say anything and just blinks, waits until Spock shifts to the side to allow him through.
The door swishes shut behind them and Leonard chooses to sit on the couch, bent forward slightly to hold his head in his hands. Spock silently brews a pot of tea, setting out cups and saucers. The actions, unchanged and slow, are soothing, and Leonard watches, the tension in his temples easing. By the time he has a cup cradled in his hands, it's like he'd shown up for another reason altogether, something of which he can't even put into words.
"Doctor-" Spock starts to say, only to be interrupted.
"We're off duty, dammit," Leonard mutters. Then he's able to relax back into the couch, like the universe has been righted or something.
And if Spock weren't fifty-fifty on control and logic, Leonard would have sworn that he was smiling.
title: accidents waiting to happen
rating/warnings: G, hijinks
wordcount: ~130
original post: here
prompt: Scotty, Chekov - Lawn mower
"It's a lawn mower," Scotty said slowly, trying not to sound like he was questioning the navigator's choice of shared pet projects. "And it's...already fixed?"
"Is in perfect condition," Chekov said proudly.
Scotty looked at the machine again. "But... I don't follow, lad. It's a lawn mower. It cuts the grass."
Chekov smiled, something sneaky and bright. "Is lawn mower now. Surely you and I can find something else for it to do, yes? Since there is little lawns to be mowed on the Enterprise."
"Ah, you never know about those botanists..." Scotty crouched to look closer at Chekov's new prize, and poked at the wiring under the cover. "Think it'll run if we take that out?"
"I do not know," Chekov said, pleased, "Let's try!"
title: your sweetest smile
rating/warnings: PG, none
wordcount: ~220
original post: here
prompt: McCoy, Uhura - Porch swing
It doesn't matter that they're not really in Georgia, or that this really isn't a porch swing, but as far as hallucinations go, Leonard is tempted to simply let it play out for a few moments. In the rational part of his mind, the clinical part where he's pulling apart the scenery around him with medical precision, he can spot the awry details. The tired, hurt, drugged-to-the-gills part of him simply doesn't care.
They sway slow and lazy, folded together in the old wood swing on what looks like his granny's old front porch. There's a bowl of peaches and two tall glasses of sweet tea sitting on the table beside them, and through the spaces between the trees Leonard can see glittering of noontime sun over the water.
What're you thinking, baby? Nyota asks. She brushes her knuckles along the stubbled curve of his cheek.
C'mere he murmurs to her, and shifts to let her slide into his lap. She doesn't bother rearranging the long skirt of her light summer dress, and winks at him when she catches him eyeing the bared skin of her thigh.
"Bones."
Leonard kisses her gently, a brush of lips across her mouth, and pulls her close to him. Sorry, darlin'. I gotta go.
"Doctor. You need to stand."
"Bones, c'mon!"
And Leonard wakes up.
title: a quiet cup
rating/warnings: G, none
wordcount: ~190
original post: here
prompt: Spock, McCoy - Teapot
Leonard has a headache from the events of the day and doesn't even have it in him to say hello when the door to Spock's quarters swishes open. He doesn't snark at the vulcan when he raises an eyebrow, doesn't say anything and just blinks, waits until Spock shifts to the side to allow him through.
The door swishes shut behind them and Leonard chooses to sit on the couch, bent forward slightly to hold his head in his hands. Spock silently brews a pot of tea, setting out cups and saucers. The actions, unchanged and slow, are soothing, and Leonard watches, the tension in his temples easing. By the time he has a cup cradled in his hands, it's like he'd shown up for another reason altogether, something of which he can't even put into words.
"Doctor-" Spock starts to say, only to be interrupted.
"We're off duty, dammit," Leonard mutters. Then he's able to relax back into the couch, like the universe has been righted or something.
And if Spock weren't fifty-fifty on control and logic, Leonard would have sworn that he was smiling.
title: accidents waiting to happen
rating/warnings: G, hijinks
wordcount: ~130
original post: here
prompt: Scotty, Chekov - Lawn mower
"It's a lawn mower," Scotty said slowly, trying not to sound like he was questioning the navigator's choice of shared pet projects. "And it's...already fixed?"
"Is in perfect condition," Chekov said proudly.
Scotty looked at the machine again. "But... I don't follow, lad. It's a lawn mower. It cuts the grass."
Chekov smiled, something sneaky and bright. "Is lawn mower now. Surely you and I can find something else for it to do, yes? Since there is little lawns to be mowed on the Enterprise."
"Ah, you never know about those botanists..." Scotty crouched to look closer at Chekov's new prize, and poked at the wiring under the cover. "Think it'll run if we take that out?"
"I do not know," Chekov said, pleased, "Let's try!"
title: your sweetest smile
rating/warnings: PG, none
wordcount: ~220
original post: here
prompt: McCoy, Uhura - Porch swing
It doesn't matter that they're not really in Georgia, or that this really isn't a porch swing, but as far as hallucinations go, Leonard is tempted to simply let it play out for a few moments. In the rational part of his mind, the clinical part where he's pulling apart the scenery around him with medical precision, he can spot the awry details. The tired, hurt, drugged-to-the-gills part of him simply doesn't care.
They sway slow and lazy, folded together in the old wood swing on what looks like his granny's old front porch. There's a bowl of peaches and two tall glasses of sweet tea sitting on the table beside them, and through the spaces between the trees Leonard can see glittering of noontime sun over the water.
What're you thinking, baby? Nyota asks. She brushes her knuckles along the stubbled curve of his cheek.
C'mere he murmurs to her, and shifts to let her slide into his lap. She doesn't bother rearranging the long skirt of her light summer dress, and winks at him when she catches him eyeing the bared skin of her thigh.
"Bones."
Leonard kisses her gently, a brush of lips across her mouth, and pulls her close to him. Sorry, darlin'. I gotta go.
"Doctor. You need to stand."
"Bones, c'mon!"
And Leonard wakes up.