White Collar fic, Better Off Ted, drabbles for SPN/Buffy, Dollhouse
White Collar, Peter/Neal
Written for elrhiarhodan for fandomstocking
"At first, I wondered if a man could change.
My mind said no, but my heart demanded yes.
It was new for me, terrifying. Strange.
I've come close to giving up, I must confess.
I know you wonder why I am still here.
You think it is your intellect, your mind,
Your devious creativity, your sheer
Delight in all the beauty that you find.
It's none of these. It's all of these. It's more.
It's selflessness, it's passion, it's a grin
At ironies that only you would smile for.
How you struggle with what you could be, not what you've been.
I was scared I couldn't make you someone new.
But I learned to love anyway. I changed for you."
Neal swallowed and stared at the piece of paper. "You wrote me a sonnet?" he said in disbelief.
Peter, uncharacteristically awkward, said, "It's not very good, it was just --"
"I love it," Neal interrupted quickly.
Peter smiled. "You know, when you said you wanted us to write poems for each other, I wasn't too sure. But I guess that wasn't the most horrible thing I've ever done."
Neal refrained from rolling his eyes at that statement. Mostly because he was trying to think of how to get rid of his own poem without Peter noticing.
The noticing came before the getting rid of. Peter made a grab, but of course Neal was quick with the getaway. But then Peter kept bargaining and cajoling and threatening (sweet, sexy threats, but still), until finally, much to his embarrassment, Neal had to give in.
Peter opened up the poem that Neal had written for him and read aloud.
"There once was a man named Peter,
He was way hotter than Derek Jeter.
His partner said
He was good in bed
Because he had an extremely large peter."
"Um... " Neal said.
"You rhymed Peter with.... peter."
"Right. I was uh... so amused by the idea of you trying to write a love poem that I kind of forgot that I...well, poetry writing is not one of my talents. But I thought maybe we could have fun with how hard it was to write ... But then your poem was so lovely and.... "
Peter burst out laughing. His glee would have been unbearable if it weren't so infectious.
Soon they were both trying to stop laughing long enough to kiss.
"I love your poem," Peter said. "I'm keeping it."
"To torment me?"
"No. Okay, that too. But mostly because I love it."
"I love yours too."
They kissed again, and Peter tried not to snicker at Neal's poem once more. Neal, meanwhile, had already decided that his next gift exchange with Peter would involve each man making a painting for the other in the style of abstract expressionism. Not that it was a competition....
Better Off Ted, Linda/Ted/Veronica, for froggimus_rex for fandomstocking
Veronica leaned back and crossed her arms. She frowned, which she did a lot.
It was never good.
"I'm bored," she observed, "Are you bored, Linda?"
"Uhhh," Linda answered. She looked down at Ted, whom they had just tied to Veronica's bed using his silk tie. He looked like he wasn't all that pleased to hear that their reaction to his naked, aroused, bound body was boredom.
"Mgnhhmnfgh" Ted replied, his eyes bugging out as he tried to speak with the gag in his mouth.
"I think you hurt Ted's feelings," Linda whispered to Veronica loudly.
"Mmmfy mfeelnns arrr MNT hrdd," Ted said. "I MN MFFNDND!"
"What's that, Ted? You know I don't speak French," Veronica said.
"I think he said, 'My feelings are NOT hurt, I am offended," Linda said as Ted nodded gratefully.
"You're offended that I got bored while binding you to have our wicked, wanton ways with you?"
Ted nodded.
"Hm. The male ego is even more fragile than I thought. Well, I suppose I'll have to pretend not to be bored. And since I'm not bored, I won't do that extra-creative amazing sex thing I was going to."
"WHHH??? WHYNN NTT?!!" Ted objected.
"No, I only considered it because I was bored with this stuff. But bottoms get to choose, and if you don't want amazingly innovative sexual adventures, then I respect that," Veronica said with a determined nod, much like she did when she forced herself to follow the company policy of not throwing staplers at people who sent her chain letter emails.
"NNOO I WNNTNT TH CRTVNN SXX."
"You want to eat caveman snacks?"
"He wants the creative sex, he says," Linda clarified.
"But he said he didn't," Veronica pointed out.
Linda smiled. Sometimes it was hard to tell if Veronica was playing or not, but when she was, it was so much fun. Nobody did mindgames like Veronica.
"I know," Linda said with a raised eyebrow at Ted, "We shouldn't let Ted just change his mind without a good reason."
"We should punish him for being so fickle," Veronica concluded, nodded as if it were a simple deduction.
Linda giggled as Ted's eyebrows furrowed. "Definitely," she said. "We should torture him."
Ted visibly relaxed as he realized where this was going. He nodded toward the paddle collection Veronica kept on the shelf.
"I said punishment, not reward, Ted!" Veronica scolded, barely keeping the smirk off her face. "Linda, what do you think would teach Ted a valuable lesson?"
Linda grinned. "I think I should give you a mind-blowing orgasm that makes you scream like that half-ostrich half-alligator that Lem and Phil made."
"Oh, that thing. I really don't see how that was an improvement on the ostrich-giraffe that we sold as the world's most expensive ceiling-high feather duster. But wait, why is my pleasure a punishment for Ted?"
"He's going to hear you scream from the next room and not be allowed to watch."
"MMMH? MMHHHHH!!!" Ted said, more whining than offended.
"Excellent plan. You get more and more devious by the day, Linda."
Linda smiled as they walked to the next room. She knew that those words were Veronica's version of 'You have my heart.'
Drabblish pieces for aaronlisa for fandomstocking
Dean/Faith: Five Reasons Dean thinks Faith Might be the one for him.
1 She likes red meat. Dripping, rare.
2 She likes killing evil. Likes it more than he does, actually. It's been a while since he's felt anything but flinty obligation on the job, but the look in her eyes when she just dusted a nest of vamps... it works for Dean.
3 When she rides Dean, she whispers dirty, delicious promises to him. Even better, some of them she probably means.
4 She likes AC/DC.
5 He told her about hell. He told that he tortured. That he enjoyed it. She didn't look at him any differently.
Someday she might even trust him enough to tell him why.
Dollhouse, Adelle/Topher, angsty post-series.
Sometimes, Topher's fingers would move, softly, a blueprint or skeleton of real motion, tracing the patterns that his fingertips would take if he were at his computer at the house instead of softly tapping at Adelle's thigh as if it were some delicate keyboard, his head resting on her breast,.
"Topher," she says, and it's enough. He stops.
Silence.
"I'm only here because you feel sorry for me," Topher sighs.
It's not a complaint or accusation. Topher has not been the same since he ended far more than he could live with ending.
She pauses. Then: "No. You're just my sex toy."
Topher snorts a laugh, more for the smile he hears in her voice than the sentiment. For a moment, they forget what they did together, to the world, to each other.
But just for a moment.