Matchmaker Challenge: Fics for Random Pairings
Fun challenge; we submitted several fandoms and got random pairings. I got to choose between Felix and Paul of Orphan Black OR Peter and Lincoln Lee of Fringe. So I tried for both. Heed the warning.
Where Nobody Knows Your Name
Name: catko
Team: clubs
Fandom: Fringe, Orphan Black
Pairing: Felix/Paul, Peter Bishop/Lincoln Lee
Rating: PG 13
Warning/Notes: reference to sexual activity; drinking. Crack, by which I mean silly and quite implausible.
Word count: 1014
“Oh, good. Look who it is.” Felix said witheringly as he pushed past Paul and put the key in the front door of his building. “Oops, sorry, didn’t mean to jostle you. Gonna arrest me?” This was thrown over his shoulder as he pulled the door open and moved to step into the foyer. He managed to keep his face and tone sardonic but felt his heart beating faster and had to fight to control his breathing. What was this now? A bit of PTSD from the arrest and near-frame-up? Couldn’t blame him; there had been a moment there where he’d been genuinely terrified. But this didn’t feel like fight-or-flight; no, it was more like…
“Hey.” Felix felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned sharply, pulling away. “What the fuck!”
Paul stepped back quickly, hands spread, palms upward. “No, no, you got it wrong. I’m here to…apologize.” Felix arched an eyebrow and looked askance. “I mean it. Really. I’m unarmed-“ Felix arched the other eyebrow- “Well anyway, I haven’t pulled a weapon on you, have I?”
“Not YET.” Felix nonetheless paused, hand on hip, and let the door swing closed. “So go ahead then. What’s all this about?” He gave Paul the once-over, noting that he did look a bit less threatening than usual, albeit dressed in what looked like a CIA field-training outfit: dark polo, windbreaker, black jeans that fit pretty damn-Felix! he chastised himself. Focus!
Paul grinned tentatively. “I’m serious. Here to say I’m sorry. I-“ he looked around then stepped closer. “There’s a lot I can’t tell you. But I never meant to scare you. And I knew you’d get off; it was all a … look, this isn’t the best place to be discussing this. Can’t we go somewhere more … private?” He started up the steps but Felix put out a hand. “NO. We are not going up there. I know. There’s a club, a bar, meeting place for those want to be on the down-low. Come on.” He shouldered his bag and pointed toward the street.
“The down-low? Since when do you care about being on the down-low?” Paul said disbelievingly, as he moved to follow.
“Sometimes one is engaged to meet a particular someone who needs to be more discreet,” said Felix airily, as he waved to a cab. “And this is just the place.”
***
“So that’s as much as I can tell you. There’s at least three different factions, and the only way I can stay afloat is to stay in good with each of them. You got to believe that.”
Felix took a gulp of his beer and looked around the bar, trying to clear his head, but barely noting the various groupings of men at tables and at the bar. Funny, first time he’d been more interested in what his table-mate had to say than in checking out the local talent. And in this place, there was usually plenty of it-more power types than hotties, but nothing wrong with that from time to time. Still, back to the non-business at hand.
Really, he couldn’t figure out why Paul was doing this, why he’d care so much what Felix thought.
Paul leaned intently across the table, taking hold of Felix’s wrist. “Just…if you can keep Sarah off of trying to find out more, it’s only screwing things up. Get her to lie low, just for a week or so.” At that,
Felix barked out a laugh. “Oh no. No way. I got no control over that girl, never have. Besides,” he drained his glass and signaled for another. “Here’s what I know, and I don’t know much in this madness. Sarah spent the first half of her life totally fucking it up. But right now? I know that she is the only one that can unfuck it. Not just her life. Everything.” He gestured around him with his free hand, and turned the other around under Paul’s hand, to grasp his wrist. Thus joined, they looked at each other for a long moment. Suddenly, Felix felt a sense of urgency, to connect, to communicate. Maybe the same sense that drove Paul to come find him, to come with him here.
“Yeah, okay,” conceded Paul, releasing his hand and lounging back in his seat. He too took a look around the room, stopping and squinting at one point, then back to Felix. “‘Unfuck,’ huh?” he grinned. “Great concept. Sometimes I wish I could….” his voice faded, and he shook his head. “You’d better not say ‘Sarah,’” Felix said warningly “And anyway, what are you trying to say? Got regrets ‘bout living up to your own nickname? Little oversold, are we?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Paul said in a gravelly tone, but with perhaps a tad more challenge than condescension. Felix lifted his eyebrows and leaned back across the table. “Maybe I would, kind sir. Just maybe I would.” And the two looked at each other with wild surmise.
POSTSCRIPT
“What is it?” Lincoln asked, noticing the look on Peter’s face as he scanned the room.
“It’s … nothing. I hope. Just thought I recognized someone, someone from … well, let’s just call it my study-abroad years.” Peter dropped his eyes and reached for his beer. “I’m probably wrong. Never mind.”
“Well, it’s not too unlikely, place like this.” Lincoln leaned back in his chair. “From what my contact told me-“
“Your ‘contact’?” grinned Peter lazily.
“Yeah, my Toronto contact, and it’s not what you think. Anyway, anyplace where people go to not be recognized, sure to be people you recognize, right? That is, if you’re someone who gets around a lot.”
“Oh, is that the story about me? Someone who gets around a lot?”
Lincoln lifted his glass in a salute. “Travel around the globe? Check. Travel through space and time? Check. Travel to a clandestine bar with an operative from a different part of the continuum? What more needs to be said?”
Peter looked suddenly intent. “Maybe just … what it is we’re doing here?”
Lincoln stretched out his legs and brushed against Peter’s calf. “Being clandestine, bro. You in?”
Where Nobody Knows Your Name
Name: catko
Team: clubs
Fandom: Fringe, Orphan Black
Pairing: Felix/Paul, Peter Bishop/Lincoln Lee
Rating: PG 13
Warning/Notes: reference to sexual activity; drinking. Crack, by which I mean silly and quite implausible.
Word count: 1014
“Oh, good. Look who it is.” Felix said witheringly as he pushed past Paul and put the key in the front door of his building. “Oops, sorry, didn’t mean to jostle you. Gonna arrest me?” This was thrown over his shoulder as he pulled the door open and moved to step into the foyer. He managed to keep his face and tone sardonic but felt his heart beating faster and had to fight to control his breathing. What was this now? A bit of PTSD from the arrest and near-frame-up? Couldn’t blame him; there had been a moment there where he’d been genuinely terrified. But this didn’t feel like fight-or-flight; no, it was more like…
“Hey.” Felix felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned sharply, pulling away. “What the fuck!”
Paul stepped back quickly, hands spread, palms upward. “No, no, you got it wrong. I’m here to…apologize.” Felix arched an eyebrow and looked askance. “I mean it. Really. I’m unarmed-“ Felix arched the other eyebrow- “Well anyway, I haven’t pulled a weapon on you, have I?”
“Not YET.” Felix nonetheless paused, hand on hip, and let the door swing closed. “So go ahead then. What’s all this about?” He gave Paul the once-over, noting that he did look a bit less threatening than usual, albeit dressed in what looked like a CIA field-training outfit: dark polo, windbreaker, black jeans that fit pretty damn-Felix! he chastised himself. Focus!
Paul grinned tentatively. “I’m serious. Here to say I’m sorry. I-“ he looked around then stepped closer. “There’s a lot I can’t tell you. But I never meant to scare you. And I knew you’d get off; it was all a … look, this isn’t the best place to be discussing this. Can’t we go somewhere more … private?” He started up the steps but Felix put out a hand. “NO. We are not going up there. I know. There’s a club, a bar, meeting place for those want to be on the down-low. Come on.” He shouldered his bag and pointed toward the street.
“The down-low? Since when do you care about being on the down-low?” Paul said disbelievingly, as he moved to follow.
“Sometimes one is engaged to meet a particular someone who needs to be more discreet,” said Felix airily, as he waved to a cab. “And this is just the place.”
***
“So that’s as much as I can tell you. There’s at least three different factions, and the only way I can stay afloat is to stay in good with each of them. You got to believe that.”
Felix took a gulp of his beer and looked around the bar, trying to clear his head, but barely noting the various groupings of men at tables and at the bar. Funny, first time he’d been more interested in what his table-mate had to say than in checking out the local talent. And in this place, there was usually plenty of it-more power types than hotties, but nothing wrong with that from time to time. Still, back to the non-business at hand.
Really, he couldn’t figure out why Paul was doing this, why he’d care so much what Felix thought.
Paul leaned intently across the table, taking hold of Felix’s wrist. “Just…if you can keep Sarah off of trying to find out more, it’s only screwing things up. Get her to lie low, just for a week or so.” At that,
Felix barked out a laugh. “Oh no. No way. I got no control over that girl, never have. Besides,” he drained his glass and signaled for another. “Here’s what I know, and I don’t know much in this madness. Sarah spent the first half of her life totally fucking it up. But right now? I know that she is the only one that can unfuck it. Not just her life. Everything.” He gestured around him with his free hand, and turned the other around under Paul’s hand, to grasp his wrist. Thus joined, they looked at each other for a long moment. Suddenly, Felix felt a sense of urgency, to connect, to communicate. Maybe the same sense that drove Paul to come find him, to come with him here.
“Yeah, okay,” conceded Paul, releasing his hand and lounging back in his seat. He too took a look around the room, stopping and squinting at one point, then back to Felix. “‘Unfuck,’ huh?” he grinned. “Great concept. Sometimes I wish I could….” his voice faded, and he shook his head. “You’d better not say ‘Sarah,’” Felix said warningly “And anyway, what are you trying to say? Got regrets ‘bout living up to your own nickname? Little oversold, are we?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Paul said in a gravelly tone, but with perhaps a tad more challenge than condescension. Felix lifted his eyebrows and leaned back across the table. “Maybe I would, kind sir. Just maybe I would.” And the two looked at each other with wild surmise.
POSTSCRIPT
“What is it?” Lincoln asked, noticing the look on Peter’s face as he scanned the room.
“It’s … nothing. I hope. Just thought I recognized someone, someone from … well, let’s just call it my study-abroad years.” Peter dropped his eyes and reached for his beer. “I’m probably wrong. Never mind.”
“Well, it’s not too unlikely, place like this.” Lincoln leaned back in his chair. “From what my contact told me-“
“Your ‘contact’?” grinned Peter lazily.
“Yeah, my Toronto contact, and it’s not what you think. Anyway, anyplace where people go to not be recognized, sure to be people you recognize, right? That is, if you’re someone who gets around a lot.”
“Oh, is that the story about me? Someone who gets around a lot?”
Lincoln lifted his glass in a salute. “Travel around the globe? Check. Travel through space and time? Check. Travel to a clandestine bar with an operative from a different part of the continuum? What more needs to be said?”
Peter looked suddenly intent. “Maybe just … what it is we’re doing here?”
Lincoln stretched out his legs and brushed against Peter’s calf. “Being clandestine, bro. You in?”