Two ficlets
For cygny:
Sanzo hated it when people didn't have the decency to just bloody die when he really wanted them to. It had taken too long to work out that decapitation was one of the few things that worked against the hordes of uglier than usual youkai. As those of Sanzo's gang of idiots with edged weapons sliced their way through the bastards, he irritably emptied his gun into the fair-haired leader of the gang of enemy idiots. It didn't do any good, but it marginally relieved some stress.
"Why bother?" the youkai sneered in an annoying accent, strutting closer. "Nice dress. I really appreciate decent table-settings. I wonder if you'll be as spicy as the Hare Krishnas I had last week?"
Sanzo furiously closed his eyes and began to chant. He felt rough hands grab him and force his head back, exposing his neck.
"Music while I eat," the youkai laughed, breathing the scent of old blood into Sanzo's face. "Forget it, Buddha-boy, your religion of compassion and peace means nothing to me."
Sharp fangs grazed Sanzo's neck.
He kept chanting. The fangs pierced his skin. He felt the sutra working through him, and knew nothing outside the chant. Other sanzos might have had a feeling of deep contentment or inner peace. He felt it mainly as a chance to show the world just exactly how pissed-off he really was. The hands and fangs vanished.
He opened his eyes and brushed the dust from his robes and saw the others staggering through newly-dusted opponents.
"Compassion and peace, my ass," Sanzo sneered.
For enigel
". . .where are we?" Jack said, eyeing the crowds of people politely ignoring his weapon and body-armour.
"Um, London?" Daniel said, pointing down the river towards Big Ben.
"We should be on Abydos," Sam said. "I'm never letting trainees enter the coordinates again."
"We are being observed, O'Neill," Teal'c said, indicating the shiny black vintage car incongruously parked amidst the pedestrians.
The two men in the car exchanged glances and hopped out, strolling over. They worked their way to the head of the long queue and smiled politely.
"You look lost. Are you tourists?" the older man said.
"No, thank you," Jack said shortly.
"Dear me, why do these people from other dimensions always find us?" the man said.
"It's our job," the younger man said, with a noticeable lisp.
"Whoa, whoa," Jack said. "Other dimensions? What do you mean, 'other dimensions'?"
"Well," the older man said delicately. "Even for American tourists you’re a little heavily armed."
"And then there's the way you materialised through the London Eye," the other man grinned.
All four of SG1 turned and looked at the tourist attraction behind them.
"Back you go," the young man said, waving his hand. The air in the centre of the great circle shimmered. "Go on, then."
"Wait," Sam said. "How did you --"
"No, no. No explanations," the older man said. "I don't want to end up in some conversation about probabilities and spaceships, thank you very much. A bounded cosmos of crystalline spheres was good enough for my Creator, and it's good enough for me." He waved his hand, and SG1 staggered back into the shimmering air and vanished.
Crowley and Aziraphale looked at each other in satisfaction.
"Fancy a go on this thing?" Crowley said, looking at the approaching carriage.
"We are at the head of the queue," Aziraphale said cheerfully, "and it is a lovely view."
From the top they saw Great Cthulhu raise His head from the murky waters of the Thames. Both of them firmly looked the other way. One set of visitors per day was quite enough.
Sanzo hated it when people didn't have the decency to just bloody die when he really wanted them to. It had taken too long to work out that decapitation was one of the few things that worked against the hordes of uglier than usual youkai. As those of Sanzo's gang of idiots with edged weapons sliced their way through the bastards, he irritably emptied his gun into the fair-haired leader of the gang of enemy idiots. It didn't do any good, but it marginally relieved some stress.
"Why bother?" the youkai sneered in an annoying accent, strutting closer. "Nice dress. I really appreciate decent table-settings. I wonder if you'll be as spicy as the Hare Krishnas I had last week?"
Sanzo furiously closed his eyes and began to chant. He felt rough hands grab him and force his head back, exposing his neck.
"Music while I eat," the youkai laughed, breathing the scent of old blood into Sanzo's face. "Forget it, Buddha-boy, your religion of compassion and peace means nothing to me."
Sharp fangs grazed Sanzo's neck.
He kept chanting. The fangs pierced his skin. He felt the sutra working through him, and knew nothing outside the chant. Other sanzos might have had a feeling of deep contentment or inner peace. He felt it mainly as a chance to show the world just exactly how pissed-off he really was. The hands and fangs vanished.
He opened his eyes and brushed the dust from his robes and saw the others staggering through newly-dusted opponents.
"Compassion and peace, my ass," Sanzo sneered.
For enigel
". . .where are we?" Jack said, eyeing the crowds of people politely ignoring his weapon and body-armour.
"Um, London?" Daniel said, pointing down the river towards Big Ben.
"We should be on Abydos," Sam said. "I'm never letting trainees enter the coordinates again."
"We are being observed, O'Neill," Teal'c said, indicating the shiny black vintage car incongruously parked amidst the pedestrians.
The two men in the car exchanged glances and hopped out, strolling over. They worked their way to the head of the long queue and smiled politely.
"You look lost. Are you tourists?" the older man said.
"No, thank you," Jack said shortly.
"Dear me, why do these people from other dimensions always find us?" the man said.
"It's our job," the younger man said, with a noticeable lisp.
"Whoa, whoa," Jack said. "Other dimensions? What do you mean, 'other dimensions'?"
"Well," the older man said delicately. "Even for American tourists you’re a little heavily armed."
"And then there's the way you materialised through the London Eye," the other man grinned.
All four of SG1 turned and looked at the tourist attraction behind them.
"Back you go," the young man said, waving his hand. The air in the centre of the great circle shimmered. "Go on, then."
"Wait," Sam said. "How did you --"
"No, no. No explanations," the older man said. "I don't want to end up in some conversation about probabilities and spaceships, thank you very much. A bounded cosmos of crystalline spheres was good enough for my Creator, and it's good enough for me." He waved his hand, and SG1 staggered back into the shimmering air and vanished.
Crowley and Aziraphale looked at each other in satisfaction.
"Fancy a go on this thing?" Crowley said, looking at the approaching carriage.
"We are at the head of the queue," Aziraphale said cheerfully, "and it is a lovely view."
From the top they saw Great Cthulhu raise His head from the murky waters of the Thames. Both of them firmly looked the other way. One set of visitors per day was quite enough.