WIP meme-like thing
I didn't realize I had so many.
Fandom: Justice League
Pairing: Bats/Flash
The one where Wally gets kidnapped because people are trying to get at Bruce. It has nothing to do with the Flash and Batman. What will Bats to when he has to be Bruce and rely on the rest of the league to save Wally?
Right would take him to Bats' within eight minutes. Left would be a detour of almost ten and a step in the 7-Eleven on Grant and 32nd. Right would take him directly to the warm smells of Alfred's kitchen that somehow masked a serious lack of empty, sugary calories. Left meant all the Twinkies and Snowballs he could fit in his mouth before he got to the front gates, stocking up his energy so as not to die of hunger when Bats goads him into eating salad.
He turned left.
Fandom: NCIS
Pairing: McGee/DiNozzo
The one where in the slightly-near future, Tony has let his personal life fall to shambles and Tim is the guardian of his late partner's daughter. And neither of them realize they've been dating for years now. I've been talking about this one forever. The story gets told from the future backwards.
One scorching summer day, Tony wakes up as a divorced father of a child who sees more of her arms-smuggling grandfather than she does her law-abiding father. He's divorced not only once, but twice. He can't go to Panama City and get drunk like the good ol' days, because he's so far from them that he can't even see them in the rear-view mirror anymore.
One sweaty, humid day, Tony woke up and couldn't pretend that he wasn't really forty anymore. He couldn't pretend that his life wasn't starting to look an awful lot like Gibbs'. But he couldn't spend too much more time pondering these depressing thoughts, because his alarm beeped again and McGee and Hannah would be awake soon.
He sat up, looked around the living room he was sleeping in because Anna was the one who kicked him out, and asked, "How did I get here?"
And then the story becomes entirely about Tim. I need to work on my approach.
Fandom: Due South
Pairing: Fraser/Kowalski, or possibly Vecchio/Kowalski. I forget.
The one where Fraser and Kowalski exchange letters with Vecchio. I even wrote them out how I imagine the guys' handwritings would look. Except when they were emails.
From: bentonfraser@rcmp.gov.ca
To: [Vecchio]
Subject: I understand congratulations are in order.
Dear Ray,
Thank you for your letter. Despite your preconceptions of Moose Jaw, the post office is quite reliable. Due to a recent influx of immigration, they recently had to add a third mailperson.
I am well, as is Diefenbaker, thank you for asking. He sends his regards.
I must admit, your news is quite shocking. Diefenbaker and I are very happy for you. Ray Kowalski said that he will write you a personal not himself. I'm afraid it may be unlikely that we will be able to attend to wedding, however. As you may have guessed [that's as far as I got]
Vecchio
Keep your hands off my wife
Ray Kowalski
Stanly,
Keep your hands off my Mountie.
Ray Vecchio
Vecchio
I head. Take my advice and just do what she says.
Ray Kowalski
I was going to write the letters out and everything.
Fandom: Due South
Pairing: Fraser/Kowalski
In which police work was not suited for Ray, but porn was a way to make rent.
"I know what you're thinkin', all right?" Ray said, because he didn't want this guy thinking what Ray was sure he was thinking.
The guy did something with his thumb and his eyebrow--smoothing out the hairs or something. Ray wondered if the guy's skin was always as red as his jacket or if it was just--whatever, mitigating circumstances or whatever. "As I understand it, the production of pornography is--"
"Porno?" some bald guy pinged in on the conversation. "What about porno?" The guy was all slick and well-dressed and exactly like the last guy he'd seen with his Stella acting like an accessory; set Ray's teeth on edge.
"Ah, Mr. Kowalski, this is Detective Vecchio. Mr. Kowalski, I believe Detective Vecchio would be of greater assistance--"
Ray rolled his eyes. "This figures. Look, everyone says, 'Go to the Mountie, Dudley Do-Right in the red coat. He's honest, he'll care. He won't give you the brush-off." Ray gets in the guy's personal space. "I'm takin' you," he planted his finger next to a shiny button., ignored Mr. slick style pig. "Or I'm not talking."
He was about to walk away with the last of his bruised pride. The detective was looking at the Mountie, the Mountie--finally the Mountie said, "Of course."
Fandom: Due South
Pairing: Fraser/Kowalski. Unless it was going to be Vecchio/Kowalski and I forgot.
The one where Vecchio is a Representative, Welsh is a Senator, Fraser is some kind of aide or something, and Kowalski is a lobbyist. The story behind this is awhile ago, ignazwisdom was talking about Fantasy Congress, like Fantasy Football, you know? And I said, hoping to get her to write it, something about a Fantasy Congress Due South AU. And then I started writing this. I'm 100% certain she would do a better job of it, but I don't know if she is. Anyway, I had fun thinking about this.
When he got off the plane the first blast of non-recycled air was a relief.
"So you see?" the guy who had been sitting next to him was still dogging him.
Kowalski did not twitch. He did not ball his right hand into a fist and he did not knock the guy's teeth out--he was only a snot-nosed kid. He was only an underprivileged frat boy. He wasn't worth it.
"God I need a cigarette," Kowalski muttered.
"That's another thing!" the kid started saying. "Why should tobacco be legal but not marijuana? There's no difference!"
Kowalski scrubbed his hands over his face. "I don't care! Listen to me and listen good: I'm gonna give you a lesson in politics. There are more important issues in the univers than where you get to smoke a joint. Christ, kid. Open your eyes."
Frat Boy glared at him before he left Kowalski alone. Which is not to imply that Kowalski didn't hear it when Frat Boy mumbled, "What a fucking fag." Kowalski did ball up his hands, but he did not lunge after him.
Welsh, not five feet away, caught his eye. "Disturbing to think people like him are going to run the country someday, huh?"
A smile twitched across Kowalski's face. "Cuz you plan to give them a chance? More importantly, what are you doing talking to the enemy?"
"What enemy? My committees have nothing to do with you, Kowalski."
Vecchio's committees have to do with Kowalski, though, and Welsh gives him advice.
Fandom: Due South
Pairing: Fraser/Kowalski, with no Vecchio in the mix. Yet.
The one where Ben has to go out on patrol a lot, alone, and Ray gets lonely. But then he finds a kid in a blizzard and somehow they get to keep him. Yeah, I don't know what I'm smoking either. There is more of a beginning to this explaining that he's lonely and bored, but I can't seem to find it. It's probably better that way. But in that he radios into town when he can and stuff.
Over the next three day Ray watched the skin around the cut get red and infected. Ben's goop wasn't doing anything. He didn't smell an infection and he didn't see any puss, but it had to be infected. When the blizzard stopped, finally, Ray didn't waste time bundling the kid up and radioing into town to expect them.
They got there in record time. All the old women had their curtains drawn back. Seven Finger Sam rushed out of the hardware store and helped Ray up. Ray clutched the baby tightly to his chest as Seven Finger Sam escprted them to the depot--the snow was still fresh and it would be easy enough to trip and squash the poor kid.
"Jesus, son," the corporal said. The old man stood blt upright from his desk. "I can't believe you came here. We would have sent someone to you."
Seven Finger Sam took Ray's Parka from each arm as Ray unzipped it and shifted the baby around. The corporal led him forward, a panicked-looking constable cleared off the corporal's desk. Ray laid the baby down and set out unwrapping him. The three men were making noise behind him, and the baby was still crying, but all Ray paid attention to was taking off the blanket and the three wool sweaters he wrapped the kid in and rolling down the wool socks that miraculously hadn't fallen off the kid's legs until he was wearing only the ratty t-shirt for a diaper.
"He's all red!" Ray said, desperation in his voice. "Why is he all red?"
The corporal put his hand on Ray's shoulder. Ray didn't jump. Much. "He's warm."
"How's got a fever?" Ray's pulse jumped. He brushed the hat off the baby's forehead and felt with the back of his hand, just like his mom used to.
"No, son," the corporal's voice was kindly. "All those layers? He must have been pretty hot in there."
Ray frowned but he didn't remove his hand. "Oh."
The door banged against the wall, cold that came with it making Ray and the baby shiver. The baby sneezed. Green snot shot out of his nose.
"Hey, hey!" Ray called as he grabbed the hem of his sleeve to wipe at the kid's nose. "He's sick!"
"In the civilized world," Stephanie said next to his shoulder, "We have these things called tissues."
Ray glared at her. "What are you doing here, you're not a doctor."
"Actually, I am. I start my internship this summer."
"No offense, Stephanie," his tone wasn't sincere, "but my kid needs to be checked out by a real doctor."
Stephanie stopped, but she wasn't angry. "What?"
"Your kid?" someone else asked.
"What?" Ray frowned.
"You said 'my kid,'" Stephanie told him.
"No I didn't."
"Actually," the corporal said, "You did." The constable nodded, but he was so green he didn't know his head from his ass, and when Ray glared at him he wisely began shuffling papers on his desk.
"Who cares what I said?" Ray fumed. "The kid needs help. So help him."
Stephanie rolled her eyes. "Where's he hurt?"
Fandom: Due South
Pairing: Kowalski/Various
The one where Kowalski has sex with some people. He teaches Stella how to drive.
Stella's dad was being an asshole and wouldn't let her get her license no matter what her mother said. Stell came to Ray's house with a red face and wet eyes, but, like she told Ray's mom, she wasn't going to give him the satisfactionof crying over it. Not in front of her father.
So she started crying as soon as Ray's mom opened the door. Ray stood on the third step from the ground and panicked while his mom hugged Stella and did that thing moms to.
Fandom: Sky High
Pairing: Will/Warren, otherwise I'm making it gen.
The one where Warren's father escapes, Warren's mother is awesome, and Will is scared shitless.
The doorbell wasn't enough to interrupt the music. He didn't even notice anyone else in the world until the door jerked open and Warren was in front of him.
"What are you--" Will started, but stopped when he noticed the blood marring most of Warren's face and smeared on most of his shirt.
"Where's your dad?" Warren--well, he didn't ask as much as snarled.
Will yelled for his father as he turned off the stereo. His hands were shaking. He didn't know what else to do.
His dad came up, followed by his mom. She took one look at Warren's face and her mouth became a thin, whitish line. She walked up to Warren and so gently put her hand over one of his that was holding a blood-soaked towel to his face.
"Did your father do this to you?" she asked.
"Yeah, he's at the warehouses at Miller and 25th. Mom's keeping him occupied until you get there."
"Why are you telling us this?" Will asked.
"Because he thinks he can do this," Warren gestured to his face, "and we'll just take it. For an evil genius he's pretty stupid. We need to get going now. I don't know how much longer Mom can hold him."
Fandom: Stargate SG1
Pairing: Not sure.
The one where Paul disappears and Jack is at his house. For some reason.
There was a picture on his hall table: Paul, younger, with a wicked-looking goatee, sitting on a skeletal chair with a little girl sitting in his arms and a battered copy of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy in his hands.
"Do you know this girl?" Jack asked the lieutenant who had showed him in.
"Sorry, no sir," the woman said.
Jack started opening drawers and rummaging through them. "If you were an address book, where would you be?"
"Sir?" the bewilderment in the lieutenant's voice increased. A glint of light caught Jack's eye when he moved a legal pad. It knocked a small, navy blue book and silver ink calligraphied on the cover.
'People to know' was smudged in the center. Inside was page after page.
"How are you going to know to call, sir?"
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Owen/Ianto
The one where Tosh and Owen bet against Cardiff and lose. So of course they have to frock up. This was supposed to happen when Owen was in charge of Torchwood, presuming that he got enough time at the helm to get used to it, but I guess that's gone out the window.
Gwen looked like she was about to piss herself if she didn't give in and laugh. Ianto smiled. Something familiar tugged at Owen's mind; he dismissed it in favor of rolling his eyes when Gwen set her and Tosh off giggling like school girls.
"I understand if you'll want to back out," Owen smirked. "I'll be devastatingly attractive dressed as a man or a woman. I don't want to hurt your feelings when I look better than both of you."
Gwen stopped cackling long enough to tell him he was all heart. Ianto told Owen and Tosh both to get ready before the night was too far gone.
"A bet," he said, "is a bet, after all." He was mocking what Owen said before Wales scored the game-winning point in the last three seconds of the quarter.
"It was your idea to spend the extra money from the budget this way," Tosh reminded him. She hadn't been taking it as poorly as Owen thought she should.
"Looks like none of you are getting a raise," he muttered.
Tosh didn't look bad in men's clothes. The button-down shirt they gave her did little to hide her breats, but it and the slacks were unmistakably male. When she came out from changing into them, she did a twirl and complained about the shoes. Everything seemed to fit her well--would fit her perfectly if she actually had a bloke's body. This disturbed Owen.
What disturbed him more was what he was expected to wear.
Ianto or Gwen, or Satan, whoever, picked a black dress for him that probably wouldn't come anywhere near his knees. Fuck, he swore in the privacy of his mind, with just the smallest feeling of dread. He gritted his teeth. They even got him a bra and thong.
The dress looked like a rectangle with too-short sleeves. It was a bitch to get on. With every string of profanity he spouted off in the struggle, the laughter outside the door get louder.
"Do you need help?" Gwen offered, smarmy.
Owen sneered at the door but he finally got the thing on and mostly straight, he just couldn't zip it up the back himself. When it was on his body it looked like it would have had a pretty shape if he'd had one. The fabric was stretchy or something--from the waist to the top of his breastbone it looked like it could be a shirt he might wear out, it hugged all of his favorite muscles. There wasn't a dip for showing off cleavage. The sleeves outlined his biceps.
But from the waist down, there wasn't much.
It did actually go to the tops of his knees. It also had a slit that put too much of a breeze underneath him.
"If you want to back out," Ianto called. "We'll understand."
They don't expect me to go through with this, Owen thought. So he stuffed the bra, put on the lipstick Tosh left behind on the counter. He wasn't actually devastatingly gorgeous or even slightly attractive. He looked like a man in a dress.
A slutty dress. If he moved his legs too much he'd be giving the world a show.
He was going to make the three of them pay for it.
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
The one where Ianto is depressed.
Jack followed Ianto out of the pub, away from the noise and happiness. Ianto carried on like he didn't notice, fixing the collar of his wool overcoat and digging into the pockets. He went into an empty side street, paused.
"Ianto," said Jack, causing Ianto to jerk around in surprise. "Are you okay?" Ianto stared for a long heartbeat before rummaging through his pockets again. His hand emerged clutching a pack of cigarettes.
"What makes you ask, sir?" Ianto stuck one in his mouth, struck a match. In the flare of light, Jack thought he might have seen tears welling in Ianto's eyes, but then the moment was gone.
"I ask because you left in a hurry."
Ianto took a drag, held it in, breathed it out. "I had a little too much to drink. Didn't want to embarrass myself."
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Ianto/Jack
The one where Ianto and Jack have sex, and it's very pretty. It seems to me Ianto doesn't often top in fic, which could be totally off but I was having fun when I came up with this.
Jack can feel Ianto's breath in warm puffs against his shoulder. Jack's hands go to Ianto's arm and back. He shifts his hips, Ianto gives a drawn-out groan, Jack grins into Ianto's sweaty hair.
Ianto's arms aren't particularly muscled. They're strong, but lean. They shivered with every thrust. His fingertips, so deft normally and so dull now, were white on the sheets.
"So controlled, Ianto," said Jack. "That won't do."
Fandom: Eureka
Pairing: Fargo/Spencer
The one where Something Goes Wrong and Henry goes crazy. Fargo bears the brunt of it. Whenever I'm into a comical, upbeat show I have the urge to write fic for it that's completely, horribly left-field.
"Listen to yourself," he hissed with disdain. "Blubbering and carrying on like a little girl."
"What--no--I," Fargo started and stopped. He felt every work draining a little more of his dignity. Not that he had much left to lose. Waking up in your office with your hands tied behind your back and your normally mild-mannered boss leering over you while you're mysteriously wearing a dress is bound to do that to anyone.
"Help!" Fargo yelled again.
Henry's foot connected with Fargo's face. The motion turned his head toward the wall. Once the pain fell away, he could see the glorified Wii controller Richard Smith had been raving about as a breakthrough. That had to be what caused this.
Fargo rolled back over on his side, to free his hands, to reach for the device, but Henry just kicked him again. In the stomach this time. Fargo folded into the fetal position the best he could. He felt his hands bump into the device, heard it slide farther away. The second he reached it, the second Henry was back to normal and Fargo was out of the dress, he was going to beat Richard Smith stupid.
"Help!" he yelled when he got his breath back.
He heard a responding bang on the door. "Fargo? What's going on?"
"Sheriff Carter!" Fargo yelled.
And then there's the Choose Your Own Adventure story, but I'm keeping that one close.
Fandom: Justice League
Pairing: Bats/Flash
The one where Wally gets kidnapped because people are trying to get at Bruce. It has nothing to do with the Flash and Batman. What will Bats to when he has to be Bruce and rely on the rest of the league to save Wally?
Right would take him to Bats' within eight minutes. Left would be a detour of almost ten and a step in the 7-Eleven on Grant and 32nd. Right would take him directly to the warm smells of Alfred's kitchen that somehow masked a serious lack of empty, sugary calories. Left meant all the Twinkies and Snowballs he could fit in his mouth before he got to the front gates, stocking up his energy so as not to die of hunger when Bats goads him into eating salad.
He turned left.
Fandom: NCIS
Pairing: McGee/DiNozzo
The one where in the slightly-near future, Tony has let his personal life fall to shambles and Tim is the guardian of his late partner's daughter. And neither of them realize they've been dating for years now. I've been talking about this one forever. The story gets told from the future backwards.
One scorching summer day, Tony wakes up as a divorced father of a child who sees more of her arms-smuggling grandfather than she does her law-abiding father. He's divorced not only once, but twice. He can't go to Panama City and get drunk like the good ol' days, because he's so far from them that he can't even see them in the rear-view mirror anymore.
One sweaty, humid day, Tony woke up and couldn't pretend that he wasn't really forty anymore. He couldn't pretend that his life wasn't starting to look an awful lot like Gibbs'. But he couldn't spend too much more time pondering these depressing thoughts, because his alarm beeped again and McGee and Hannah would be awake soon.
He sat up, looked around the living room he was sleeping in because Anna was the one who kicked him out, and asked, "How did I get here?"
And then the story becomes entirely about Tim. I need to work on my approach.
Fandom: Due South
Pairing: Fraser/Kowalski, or possibly Vecchio/Kowalski. I forget.
The one where Fraser and Kowalski exchange letters with Vecchio. I even wrote them out how I imagine the guys' handwritings would look. Except when they were emails.
From: bentonfraser@rcmp.gov.ca
To: [Vecchio]
Subject: I understand congratulations are in order.
Dear Ray,
Thank you for your letter. Despite your preconceptions of Moose Jaw, the post office is quite reliable. Due to a recent influx of immigration, they recently had to add a third mailperson.
I am well, as is Diefenbaker, thank you for asking. He sends his regards.
I must admit, your news is quite shocking. Diefenbaker and I are very happy for you. Ray Kowalski said that he will write you a personal not himself. I'm afraid it may be unlikely that we will be able to attend to wedding, however. As you may have guessed [that's as far as I got]
Vecchio
Keep your hands off my wife
Ray Kowalski
Stanly,
Keep your hands off my Mountie.
Ray Vecchio
Vecchio
I head. Take my advice and just do what she says.
Ray Kowalski
I was going to write the letters out and everything.
Fandom: Due South
Pairing: Fraser/Kowalski
In which police work was not suited for Ray, but porn was a way to make rent.
"I know what you're thinkin', all right?" Ray said, because he didn't want this guy thinking what Ray was sure he was thinking.
The guy did something with his thumb and his eyebrow--smoothing out the hairs or something. Ray wondered if the guy's skin was always as red as his jacket or if it was just--whatever, mitigating circumstances or whatever. "As I understand it, the production of pornography is--"
"Porno?" some bald guy pinged in on the conversation. "What about porno?" The guy was all slick and well-dressed and exactly like the last guy he'd seen with his Stella acting like an accessory; set Ray's teeth on edge.
"Ah, Mr. Kowalski, this is Detective Vecchio. Mr. Kowalski, I believe Detective Vecchio would be of greater assistance--"
Ray rolled his eyes. "This figures. Look, everyone says, 'Go to the Mountie, Dudley Do-Right in the red coat. He's honest, he'll care. He won't give you the brush-off." Ray gets in the guy's personal space. "I'm takin' you," he planted his finger next to a shiny button., ignored Mr. slick style pig. "Or I'm not talking."
He was about to walk away with the last of his bruised pride. The detective was looking at the Mountie, the Mountie--finally the Mountie said, "Of course."
Fandom: Due South
Pairing: Fraser/Kowalski. Unless it was going to be Vecchio/Kowalski and I forgot.
The one where Vecchio is a Representative, Welsh is a Senator, Fraser is some kind of aide or something, and Kowalski is a lobbyist. The story behind this is awhile ago, ignazwisdom was talking about Fantasy Congress, like Fantasy Football, you know? And I said, hoping to get her to write it, something about a Fantasy Congress Due South AU. And then I started writing this. I'm 100% certain she would do a better job of it, but I don't know if she is. Anyway, I had fun thinking about this.
When he got off the plane the first blast of non-recycled air was a relief.
"So you see?" the guy who had been sitting next to him was still dogging him.
Kowalski did not twitch. He did not ball his right hand into a fist and he did not knock the guy's teeth out--he was only a snot-nosed kid. He was only an underprivileged frat boy. He wasn't worth it.
"God I need a cigarette," Kowalski muttered.
"That's another thing!" the kid started saying. "Why should tobacco be legal but not marijuana? There's no difference!"
Kowalski scrubbed his hands over his face. "I don't care! Listen to me and listen good: I'm gonna give you a lesson in politics. There are more important issues in the univers than where you get to smoke a joint. Christ, kid. Open your eyes."
Frat Boy glared at him before he left Kowalski alone. Which is not to imply that Kowalski didn't hear it when Frat Boy mumbled, "What a fucking fag." Kowalski did ball up his hands, but he did not lunge after him.
Welsh, not five feet away, caught his eye. "Disturbing to think people like him are going to run the country someday, huh?"
A smile twitched across Kowalski's face. "Cuz you plan to give them a chance? More importantly, what are you doing talking to the enemy?"
"What enemy? My committees have nothing to do with you, Kowalski."
Vecchio's committees have to do with Kowalski, though, and Welsh gives him advice.
Fandom: Due South
Pairing: Fraser/Kowalski, with no Vecchio in the mix. Yet.
The one where Ben has to go out on patrol a lot, alone, and Ray gets lonely. But then he finds a kid in a blizzard and somehow they get to keep him. Yeah, I don't know what I'm smoking either. There is more of a beginning to this explaining that he's lonely and bored, but I can't seem to find it. It's probably better that way. But in that he radios into town when he can and stuff.
Over the next three day Ray watched the skin around the cut get red and infected. Ben's goop wasn't doing anything. He didn't smell an infection and he didn't see any puss, but it had to be infected. When the blizzard stopped, finally, Ray didn't waste time bundling the kid up and radioing into town to expect them.
They got there in record time. All the old women had their curtains drawn back. Seven Finger Sam rushed out of the hardware store and helped Ray up. Ray clutched the baby tightly to his chest as Seven Finger Sam escprted them to the depot--the snow was still fresh and it would be easy enough to trip and squash the poor kid.
"Jesus, son," the corporal said. The old man stood blt upright from his desk. "I can't believe you came here. We would have sent someone to you."
Seven Finger Sam took Ray's Parka from each arm as Ray unzipped it and shifted the baby around. The corporal led him forward, a panicked-looking constable cleared off the corporal's desk. Ray laid the baby down and set out unwrapping him. The three men were making noise behind him, and the baby was still crying, but all Ray paid attention to was taking off the blanket and the three wool sweaters he wrapped the kid in and rolling down the wool socks that miraculously hadn't fallen off the kid's legs until he was wearing only the ratty t-shirt for a diaper.
"He's all red!" Ray said, desperation in his voice. "Why is he all red?"
The corporal put his hand on Ray's shoulder. Ray didn't jump. Much. "He's warm."
"How's got a fever?" Ray's pulse jumped. He brushed the hat off the baby's forehead and felt with the back of his hand, just like his mom used to.
"No, son," the corporal's voice was kindly. "All those layers? He must have been pretty hot in there."
Ray frowned but he didn't remove his hand. "Oh."
The door banged against the wall, cold that came with it making Ray and the baby shiver. The baby sneezed. Green snot shot out of his nose.
"Hey, hey!" Ray called as he grabbed the hem of his sleeve to wipe at the kid's nose. "He's sick!"
"In the civilized world," Stephanie said next to his shoulder, "We have these things called tissues."
Ray glared at her. "What are you doing here, you're not a doctor."
"Actually, I am. I start my internship this summer."
"No offense, Stephanie," his tone wasn't sincere, "but my kid needs to be checked out by a real doctor."
Stephanie stopped, but she wasn't angry. "What?"
"Your kid?" someone else asked.
"What?" Ray frowned.
"You said 'my kid,'" Stephanie told him.
"No I didn't."
"Actually," the corporal said, "You did." The constable nodded, but he was so green he didn't know his head from his ass, and when Ray glared at him he wisely began shuffling papers on his desk.
"Who cares what I said?" Ray fumed. "The kid needs help. So help him."
Stephanie rolled her eyes. "Where's he hurt?"
Fandom: Due South
Pairing: Kowalski/Various
The one where Kowalski has sex with some people. He teaches Stella how to drive.
Stella's dad was being an asshole and wouldn't let her get her license no matter what her mother said. Stell came to Ray's house with a red face and wet eyes, but, like she told Ray's mom, she wasn't going to give him the satisfactionof crying over it. Not in front of her father.
So she started crying as soon as Ray's mom opened the door. Ray stood on the third step from the ground and panicked while his mom hugged Stella and did that thing moms to.
Fandom: Sky High
Pairing: Will/Warren, otherwise I'm making it gen.
The one where Warren's father escapes, Warren's mother is awesome, and Will is scared shitless.
The doorbell wasn't enough to interrupt the music. He didn't even notice anyone else in the world until the door jerked open and Warren was in front of him.
"What are you--" Will started, but stopped when he noticed the blood marring most of Warren's face and smeared on most of his shirt.
"Where's your dad?" Warren--well, he didn't ask as much as snarled.
Will yelled for his father as he turned off the stereo. His hands were shaking. He didn't know what else to do.
His dad came up, followed by his mom. She took one look at Warren's face and her mouth became a thin, whitish line. She walked up to Warren and so gently put her hand over one of his that was holding a blood-soaked towel to his face.
"Did your father do this to you?" she asked.
"Yeah, he's at the warehouses at Miller and 25th. Mom's keeping him occupied until you get there."
"Why are you telling us this?" Will asked.
"Because he thinks he can do this," Warren gestured to his face, "and we'll just take it. For an evil genius he's pretty stupid. We need to get going now. I don't know how much longer Mom can hold him."
Fandom: Stargate SG1
Pairing: Not sure.
The one where Paul disappears and Jack is at his house. For some reason.
There was a picture on his hall table: Paul, younger, with a wicked-looking goatee, sitting on a skeletal chair with a little girl sitting in his arms and a battered copy of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy in his hands.
"Do you know this girl?" Jack asked the lieutenant who had showed him in.
"Sorry, no sir," the woman said.
Jack started opening drawers and rummaging through them. "If you were an address book, where would you be?"
"Sir?" the bewilderment in the lieutenant's voice increased. A glint of light caught Jack's eye when he moved a legal pad. It knocked a small, navy blue book and silver ink calligraphied on the cover.
'People to know' was smudged in the center. Inside was page after page.
"How are you going to know to call, sir?"
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Owen/Ianto
The one where Tosh and Owen bet against Cardiff and lose. So of course they have to frock up. This was supposed to happen when Owen was in charge of Torchwood, presuming that he got enough time at the helm to get used to it, but I guess that's gone out the window.
Gwen looked like she was about to piss herself if she didn't give in and laugh. Ianto smiled. Something familiar tugged at Owen's mind; he dismissed it in favor of rolling his eyes when Gwen set her and Tosh off giggling like school girls.
"I understand if you'll want to back out," Owen smirked. "I'll be devastatingly attractive dressed as a man or a woman. I don't want to hurt your feelings when I look better than both of you."
Gwen stopped cackling long enough to tell him he was all heart. Ianto told Owen and Tosh both to get ready before the night was too far gone.
"A bet," he said, "is a bet, after all." He was mocking what Owen said before Wales scored the game-winning point in the last three seconds of the quarter.
"It was your idea to spend the extra money from the budget this way," Tosh reminded him. She hadn't been taking it as poorly as Owen thought she should.
"Looks like none of you are getting a raise," he muttered.
Tosh didn't look bad in men's clothes. The button-down shirt they gave her did little to hide her breats, but it and the slacks were unmistakably male. When she came out from changing into them, she did a twirl and complained about the shoes. Everything seemed to fit her well--would fit her perfectly if she actually had a bloke's body. This disturbed Owen.
What disturbed him more was what he was expected to wear.
Ianto or Gwen, or Satan, whoever, picked a black dress for him that probably wouldn't come anywhere near his knees. Fuck, he swore in the privacy of his mind, with just the smallest feeling of dread. He gritted his teeth. They even got him a bra and thong.
The dress looked like a rectangle with too-short sleeves. It was a bitch to get on. With every string of profanity he spouted off in the struggle, the laughter outside the door get louder.
"Do you need help?" Gwen offered, smarmy.
Owen sneered at the door but he finally got the thing on and mostly straight, he just couldn't zip it up the back himself. When it was on his body it looked like it would have had a pretty shape if he'd had one. The fabric was stretchy or something--from the waist to the top of his breastbone it looked like it could be a shirt he might wear out, it hugged all of his favorite muscles. There wasn't a dip for showing off cleavage. The sleeves outlined his biceps.
But from the waist down, there wasn't much.
It did actually go to the tops of his knees. It also had a slit that put too much of a breeze underneath him.
"If you want to back out," Ianto called. "We'll understand."
They don't expect me to go through with this, Owen thought. So he stuffed the bra, put on the lipstick Tosh left behind on the counter. He wasn't actually devastatingly gorgeous or even slightly attractive. He looked like a man in a dress.
A slutty dress. If he moved his legs too much he'd be giving the world a show.
He was going to make the three of them pay for it.
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
The one where Ianto is depressed.
Jack followed Ianto out of the pub, away from the noise and happiness. Ianto carried on like he didn't notice, fixing the collar of his wool overcoat and digging into the pockets. He went into an empty side street, paused.
"Ianto," said Jack, causing Ianto to jerk around in surprise. "Are you okay?" Ianto stared for a long heartbeat before rummaging through his pockets again. His hand emerged clutching a pack of cigarettes.
"What makes you ask, sir?" Ianto stuck one in his mouth, struck a match. In the flare of light, Jack thought he might have seen tears welling in Ianto's eyes, but then the moment was gone.
"I ask because you left in a hurry."
Ianto took a drag, held it in, breathed it out. "I had a little too much to drink. Didn't want to embarrass myself."
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Ianto/Jack
The one where Ianto and Jack have sex, and it's very pretty. It seems to me Ianto doesn't often top in fic, which could be totally off but I was having fun when I came up with this.
Jack can feel Ianto's breath in warm puffs against his shoulder. Jack's hands go to Ianto's arm and back. He shifts his hips, Ianto gives a drawn-out groan, Jack grins into Ianto's sweaty hair.
Ianto's arms aren't particularly muscled. They're strong, but lean. They shivered with every thrust. His fingertips, so deft normally and so dull now, were white on the sheets.
"So controlled, Ianto," said Jack. "That won't do."
Fandom: Eureka
Pairing: Fargo/Spencer
The one where Something Goes Wrong and Henry goes crazy. Fargo bears the brunt of it. Whenever I'm into a comical, upbeat show I have the urge to write fic for it that's completely, horribly left-field.
"Listen to yourself," he hissed with disdain. "Blubbering and carrying on like a little girl."
"What--no--I," Fargo started and stopped. He felt every work draining a little more of his dignity. Not that he had much left to lose. Waking up in your office with your hands tied behind your back and your normally mild-mannered boss leering over you while you're mysteriously wearing a dress is bound to do that to anyone.
"Help!" Fargo yelled again.
Henry's foot connected with Fargo's face. The motion turned his head toward the wall. Once the pain fell away, he could see the glorified Wii controller Richard Smith had been raving about as a breakthrough. That had to be what caused this.
Fargo rolled back over on his side, to free his hands, to reach for the device, but Henry just kicked him again. In the stomach this time. Fargo folded into the fetal position the best he could. He felt his hands bump into the device, heard it slide farther away. The second he reached it, the second Henry was back to normal and Fargo was out of the dress, he was going to beat Richard Smith stupid.
"Help!" he yelled when he got his breath back.
He heard a responding bang on the door. "Fargo? What's going on?"
"Sheriff Carter!" Fargo yelled.
And then there's the Choose Your Own Adventure story, but I'm keeping that one close.