Comment Fic - Doctor Who, Being Human, Dawson's Creek
Title: Untitled
Author: punkfunkdisco
Characters/Pairings: Rose/Mickey
Rating: K
Word Count: 290
Disclaimer: I did not create, nor do I own, any of the characters. Not making anything from them.
A/N: Posted HERE for lizzie_marie_23 at comment_fic, prompt = Doctor Who, Rose/Mickey, the way it used to be
Mickey sat on the steps of The National Gallery eating chips, thinking about Rose and how things used to be. They would come here on her lunch hours and laugh whilst eating. She'd walk down from work and moan about her job, make fun of the manager and ramble animatedly about running away from it all. He always wondered whether he was included in her plans and could see now that he probably wasn't.
His eye scanned Trafalgar Square and he watched the falconer send his bird off across the square, swooping low over tourists' heads and into their paths making them jump. Rose always used to say how cruel it was for the bird to be held back by a bit of rope and not be free to fly away. Mickey would look at the thin piece of string and know that it wasn't the rope that kept the bird with his master; the piece of meat held between the falconer's thumb and forefinger was a more likely anchor.
Mickey felt a bit like Rose's thin piece of string. She'd always stayed in spite of him, not because of him. Was her job the food that had kept her around? Or her mum maybe? The fact that she had nowhere else to go? Mickey stuffed a chip in his mouth and the vinegar hit the back of his throat in such a way that made his eyes water, or so he told himself. It was obvious that none of these things were enough to keep her by his side in the end and he knew that she had to go off and live a larger life, but he still sometimes longed for the way it used to be.
~
Title: Supernatural Superheroes
Author: punkfunkdisco
Characters/Pairings: George, Mitchell (slight George/Mitchell)
Rating: T
Word Count: 299
Disclaimer: I did not create, nor do I own, any of the characters. Not making anything from them.
A/N: Posted HERE for merry_gentry at comment_fic, prompt = Being Human, George/Mitchell, masked heroes in Bristol
“Do you really think this is a good idea?”
“Yes, George, it's a brilliant idea. God, why do you have to be so careful and cautious all the time?”
“I'm not careful and cautious! I just... have reservations about going out of the house in these colours. And my legs feel very exposed.” George squirmed in his black Y fronts.
“Your legs aren't the only thing that's exposed,” Mitchell grinned at him. “Forget about it. No one will know it's you, you've got a mask on for Christ's sake!”
“Just because you're a vampire, Mitchell, does not mean you can throw around blasphemy just to get me running around Bristol in my underwear. It's very uncomfortable.”
“Oh come on, man, it's only for a couple of hours. Think how much fun it'll be!”
“Fun?!” George spluttered. “Oh no, this is not my idea of fun. And you do realise the irony of you being Batman; don't you? I think it's a little on the sick side myself.”
“I think grey's totally my colour, though! We're gonna catch bad guys with our supernatural powers, George, it'll be great.” Mitchell flung his arm around George's shoulders. He wasn't used to seeing him in as bright a colour as red and he had to admit that it was a little disarming. He changed the subject. “At least we'll be doing something good. I promise I'll help you take the pants off when we get back.” George looked away, but could still feel Mitchell's lingering look. “Hurry up, boy wonder, let's go.”
“Hold on, I'm not ready yet!” George darted from Mitchell's embrace and grabbed his yellow cape from the back of the chair before following Mitchell into the night.
~
Title: Isn't It Always
Author: punkfunkdisco
Characters/Pairings: Pacey/Joey
Rating: K
Word Count: 438
Disclaimer: I did not create, nor do I own, any of the characters. Not making anything from them.
A/N: Posted HERE for flash_indie at comment_fic, prompt = Dawson's Creek, Pacey/Joey, talking about Dawson
“So come on, Pace, get it off your chest.”
“Get what off my chest?”
“Whatever it is that you've been sat here brooding about for the past half hour.”
“I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about.”
“Oh you're sure, are you?”
“Yep.”
Joey clambered over the couch with a glint in her eye, causing Pacey to raise his hands and bring his knees up to his chest in defence of whatever it was that was coming. Joey grinned as she grabbed his waist and tickled. “Tell me what's wrong!” she insisted as Pacey tried to fend off her grabby hands, his efforts hampered by laughter.
“The only thing that's wrong,” he blurted between gasps for air, “is a crazy woman who thinks that tickling is an acceptable form of conversation stimulation.” He managed to gain the advantage and push Joey back onto the couch with a grin. “Your turn, Potter; reap what you sow!”
“No!” Joey squealed. “OK, OK, truce! Truce!” She grinned widely and tucked some hair behind her ears. Pacey fell back onto the couch laughing as Joey finished giggling. He had hold of her hand and squeezed it. “This doesn't get you off the hook, Pace. I know it's Dawson.”
Pacey sighed and looked at his girlfriend. “Isn't it always?”
She raised her eyebrows, “Go on.”
“Why does he think he's always right, Jo?!” Pacey said with sudden anger. “I mean, the guy never even contemplates that his way of thinking might not be the one true way we all have to live our lives. Why doesn't he have room in his head for more than his own opinion?!” Joey was silent. “I've always disliked that about him, even at seven years old when we would go fishing. It was always his way or no way. You put the bait on like him or you weren't playing properly.”
“Don't you think you're over-reacting a little?” Joey replied hesitantly. She wasn't sure that childhood games were still relevant now they were teenagers.
Pacey sighed. “Maybe, but don't I always?”
Joey clambered over the couch again to sit on Pacey's lap. She put her arms around him and placed her head in the crook of his neck. “I don't think you always over-react - I love that you're passionate - just maybe you do when it comes to Dawson.” She looked up at him and smiled apologetically.
“You're probably right; unlike Dawson most of the time.” He couldn't help grinning at her.
Author: punkfunkdisco
Characters/Pairings: Rose/Mickey
Rating: K
Word Count: 290
Disclaimer: I did not create, nor do I own, any of the characters. Not making anything from them.
A/N: Posted HERE for lizzie_marie_23 at comment_fic, prompt = Doctor Who, Rose/Mickey, the way it used to be
Mickey sat on the steps of The National Gallery eating chips, thinking about Rose and how things used to be. They would come here on her lunch hours and laugh whilst eating. She'd walk down from work and moan about her job, make fun of the manager and ramble animatedly about running away from it all. He always wondered whether he was included in her plans and could see now that he probably wasn't.
His eye scanned Trafalgar Square and he watched the falconer send his bird off across the square, swooping low over tourists' heads and into their paths making them jump. Rose always used to say how cruel it was for the bird to be held back by a bit of rope and not be free to fly away. Mickey would look at the thin piece of string and know that it wasn't the rope that kept the bird with his master; the piece of meat held between the falconer's thumb and forefinger was a more likely anchor.
Mickey felt a bit like Rose's thin piece of string. She'd always stayed in spite of him, not because of him. Was her job the food that had kept her around? Or her mum maybe? The fact that she had nowhere else to go? Mickey stuffed a chip in his mouth and the vinegar hit the back of his throat in such a way that made his eyes water, or so he told himself. It was obvious that none of these things were enough to keep her by his side in the end and he knew that she had to go off and live a larger life, but he still sometimes longed for the way it used to be.
~
Title: Supernatural Superheroes
Author: punkfunkdisco
Characters/Pairings: George, Mitchell (slight George/Mitchell)
Rating: T
Word Count: 299
Disclaimer: I did not create, nor do I own, any of the characters. Not making anything from them.
A/N: Posted HERE for merry_gentry at comment_fic, prompt = Being Human, George/Mitchell, masked heroes in Bristol
“Do you really think this is a good idea?”
“Yes, George, it's a brilliant idea. God, why do you have to be so careful and cautious all the time?”
“I'm not careful and cautious! I just... have reservations about going out of the house in these colours. And my legs feel very exposed.” George squirmed in his black Y fronts.
“Your legs aren't the only thing that's exposed,” Mitchell grinned at him. “Forget about it. No one will know it's you, you've got a mask on for Christ's sake!”
“Just because you're a vampire, Mitchell, does not mean you can throw around blasphemy just to get me running around Bristol in my underwear. It's very uncomfortable.”
“Oh come on, man, it's only for a couple of hours. Think how much fun it'll be!”
“Fun?!” George spluttered. “Oh no, this is not my idea of fun. And you do realise the irony of you being Batman; don't you? I think it's a little on the sick side myself.”
“I think grey's totally my colour, though! We're gonna catch bad guys with our supernatural powers, George, it'll be great.” Mitchell flung his arm around George's shoulders. He wasn't used to seeing him in as bright a colour as red and he had to admit that it was a little disarming. He changed the subject. “At least we'll be doing something good. I promise I'll help you take the pants off when we get back.” George looked away, but could still feel Mitchell's lingering look. “Hurry up, boy wonder, let's go.”
“Hold on, I'm not ready yet!” George darted from Mitchell's embrace and grabbed his yellow cape from the back of the chair before following Mitchell into the night.
~
Title: Isn't It Always
Author: punkfunkdisco
Characters/Pairings: Pacey/Joey
Rating: K
Word Count: 438
Disclaimer: I did not create, nor do I own, any of the characters. Not making anything from them.
A/N: Posted HERE for flash_indie at comment_fic, prompt = Dawson's Creek, Pacey/Joey, talking about Dawson
“So come on, Pace, get it off your chest.”
“Get what off my chest?”
“Whatever it is that you've been sat here brooding about for the past half hour.”
“I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about.”
“Oh you're sure, are you?”
“Yep.”
Joey clambered over the couch with a glint in her eye, causing Pacey to raise his hands and bring his knees up to his chest in defence of whatever it was that was coming. Joey grinned as she grabbed his waist and tickled. “Tell me what's wrong!” she insisted as Pacey tried to fend off her grabby hands, his efforts hampered by laughter.
“The only thing that's wrong,” he blurted between gasps for air, “is a crazy woman who thinks that tickling is an acceptable form of conversation stimulation.” He managed to gain the advantage and push Joey back onto the couch with a grin. “Your turn, Potter; reap what you sow!”
“No!” Joey squealed. “OK, OK, truce! Truce!” She grinned widely and tucked some hair behind her ears. Pacey fell back onto the couch laughing as Joey finished giggling. He had hold of her hand and squeezed it. “This doesn't get you off the hook, Pace. I know it's Dawson.”
Pacey sighed and looked at his girlfriend. “Isn't it always?”
She raised her eyebrows, “Go on.”
“Why does he think he's always right, Jo?!” Pacey said with sudden anger. “I mean, the guy never even contemplates that his way of thinking might not be the one true way we all have to live our lives. Why doesn't he have room in his head for more than his own opinion?!” Joey was silent. “I've always disliked that about him, even at seven years old when we would go fishing. It was always his way or no way. You put the bait on like him or you weren't playing properly.”
“Don't you think you're over-reacting a little?” Joey replied hesitantly. She wasn't sure that childhood games were still relevant now they were teenagers.
Pacey sighed. “Maybe, but don't I always?”
Joey clambered over the couch again to sit on Pacey's lap. She put her arms around him and placed her head in the crook of his neck. “I don't think you always over-react - I love that you're passionate - just maybe you do when it comes to Dawson.” She looked up at him and smiled apologetically.
“You're probably right; unlike Dawson most of the time.” He couldn't help grinning at her.