Fanfic WIP Meme
So, the fanfic work-in-progress meme, which I picked up from pocky_slash.
As I have something like 60+ (NOT KIDDING) unfinished fic lying around, I thought I'd give you a limited selection . (And some of it I might actually finish now. This meme was a great excuse to go digging around my old stuff!)
First, Torchwood is my current crazy muse, and it has at least 23 unfinished short fics, and two ideas for long fics. So it gets to go first. But warning: I've started fic for a lot of fandoms.
Torchwood
The One Where Jack Implements Changes in Torchwood Policy, Despite the Face that HE IS THE ONLY PERON LEFT IN TORCHWOOD THREE
Jack used to be a surprise for the newbies at Torchwood Three. One day he'd get sent on some sort of suicide mission, or he'd take a bullet or once Eva just shot him in the head, and the new kid would jump or shriek or one particularly memorable time, faint.
But with everyone gone, no one was around to know Jack's secret. Well, no one in Torchwood at least. Alice was still out in England proper, and she tried to ignore him anyway.
The One That Takes Place BEFORE Cyberwoman! (in which Ianto picks his clothes)
"It's Torchwood Cardiff." Ianto said, brow furrowing. "It's Torchwood Three."
He shifted to the side, so Lisa could see his clothes, hanging from a makeshift bar suspended by boxes in the back of the lorry. The lorry Ianto had stolen from Torchwood One only two weeks ago. The lorry with all of the stuff that Ianto was going to unpack. Soon. Really.
"And it's the Captain Jack Harkness," Lisa added, scanning his jumpers and ties.
"I have to fit in here," Ianto decided. "Look more casual. More Three." He fingered a jumper.
"You have to flirt." Lisa told him.
Ianto fisted a hand in a hoodie. "I will not flirt."
Lisa gave a soft sigh. "Ianto..."
Ianto turned around. Lisa was biting her lip, one of the most expressive actions left to her. He felt cold.
"You need to distract him," she apologized softly.
"I'm completely qualified." Ianto said. He turned back and pushed the suits aside. Jeans, then. He went to dig up a pair of jeans from a box.
"Not a lot." Lisa said, raising her voice slightly to he could still hear her among the boxes and bin bags he's stuffed haphazardly around her conver-no. Life-support. "You just need to keep him interested. Marcos said he flirts with everything that moves, even Hartman that one time."
Ianto heard that story too. Everyone had.
The One that takes place AFTER Cyberwoman
Ianto pushed the door open with his shoulder, balancing his bags and boxes carefully.
"It's me," he called to Rhiannon.
"Ianto?" Rhi's voice came closer to the stairs as Ianto carefully navigated them. "What are you doing here so late - Ianto!"
She clattered down the stairs and pulled some bags from his. "Ianto? What is this?"
Ianto met his sister's eyes, an automatic smile stretching out his face. "I missed some birthdays." He fumbled a bit, trying to balance himself. "And Christmas."
Rhiannon gaped at him. "Ianto, you don't...."
"I bought sweets," he pulled a box from one of the bags. "For David and Mica. I wasn't sure what they liked, but I thought that they must like something." He pulled out a few bars of Cadburry's as they reached the kitchen, and put them on the table.
Mica's eyes peeked over the couch, but David was too absorbed in the telly. Johnny looked at him like he was crazy.
"Ianto, maybe you should sit for a moment, yeah?"
Ianto blinked at her, and Rhiannon noticed the dark smudges under his eyes, and the tight way he was holding himself. There was something he wasn't telling her. Something that had him buying presents and showing up far too late at night.
Rhiannon steered Ianto toward a chair.
The One Where Ianto has to Dress up as a Student and then Maybe Jack has to be a History Professor and Hijinks Ensue!
"No," Ianto took an involuntary step backwards, watching the data play across Tosh's screen.
"We can't figure out what these students have in common. They don't even take the same classes. But they're all at Cardiff University."
"So what exactly am I supposed to do? Drift around and look like a student for long enough?"
"We're working to match you to the profile." Tosh said, her fingers flying over the keys. "Every missing student has been Welsh, a history major, and about twenty years old. A few more boys have been taken than girls, but not enough to make an appreciable difference."
"I'm not twenty." Ianto pointed out.
"You could pass," Jack said, coming up behind him suddenly. "If you slouched, and messed up your hair, and put on jeans."
Ianto stiffened automatically.
"Yeah, don't do that."
Ianto glared at him.
The One Where Ianto Had to Save the Team With His Completely Inadequate Psychic Training While Jack is Away
After Jack got back, he dug up the files meticulously kept (by Ianto) to catch up on the days he left. But during the day he was flooded with work, from signing forms that Ianto shoved at him to trying to juggle the new work dynamics swirling around the Hub.
So instead he climbed out of his bunker at night (or sometimes, drove back from Ianto's flat) and huddled over Tosh's desk, scrolling through CCTV footage while reading between the lines of Owen's medical reports, Gwen's sloppy commentary and Ianto's careful wording. (Tosh was typically the most straightforward, but occasionally she drifted into lengthy explanations of technical details.)
When he first left they had scrambled for a while. Owen tried to take control because Tosh - who had seniority - was never going to claim it. Ianto was quietly and vehemently against Owen's command, and Gwen fought him constantly and Tosh was quietly uncomfortable with it. It took nearly two weeks before they came to a breaking point, and Ianto slid Gwen into command, leaving Owen as the second and himself and Tosh as support. For a few days Owen's reports were sulky and skimpy on details and Tosh sent a lot of chatty emails.
Then Owen and Gwen took down an automated rubbish collector from Klaxorrr Eight that had been removing homeless people as waste. Ianto had managed to refuse to leave the hub to chase it and Tosh pulled a satellite out of orbit to track that thing while Gwen and Owen worked through it while scattering rubbish bins across Butetown in a wild attempt at distraction while they assembled that big gun.
Of course, that didn't exactly last well. Gwen gets clipped on the shoulder by a paralytic dart and loses all ability in her left arm for a while. She could still scribble out her reports, but couldn't handle a gun, and Ianto got more practice on the shooting range before getting thrown into the field. (Gwen's cover story was a pinched nerve, and Owen tied her arm up in a sling every night for Rhys.)
Ianto and Owen didn't get along well in the field, and just as Gwen started recovering a tingly sort of feeling in her arm, Tosh broke her leg.
Jack watched the CCTV of Ianto and Owen struggling to carry Tosh into the hub from the garage while Gwen scrambled with one hand to prepare a space in the middle of the Hub so they wouldn't have to handle the stairs. Owen was bleeding from a head wound (missing from his written report, although Ianto had noted it) and kept trying to blink tears out his eyes while bracing Tosh, leaving Ianto to guide them both to Gwen. Tosh was gripping Owen's shoulder in pain, and Jack crumpled some of the files in his fist while he watched Tosh brace herself against Ianto while Gwen clutched a tray of medical tools and Owen pulled Tosh's leg into place. The sound was low, so all Jack could hear was muted screaming.
He clicked off the CCTV and did paperwork the rest of the night. Ianto blinked in shock when he got to Jack's office with the morning coffee. Jack flashed back to a moment when Ianto had both arms wrapped around Tosh to hold her steady, with Owen's blood smeared across his hands and cuffs.
Then he waggled his eyebrows as he handed over the papers for Ianto to properly copy and collate and file.
This One is NOT a Fix-It. You have Been Warned
Dear Jack,
Gwen chokes back a sob, because of course Ianto made out his will to Jack. Because Jack is the only one that he could guarantee would be there after anything and everything. Except Jack wasn't here, was he? It was just Gwen now, sorting through the mess Jack left behind.
I trust that all of my possessions are even now being sorted away according to standard operating procedure. The files containing information relevant to my successor is stored on Mainframe under, "Streamlined Operations and Procedure for General Support and Decontamination." Pay careful attention to Myfanwy's diet.
So that's what the intimidating file was for. Gwen wondered what life was like in Torchwood before Ianto. She could hardly imagine the mess it must have been, considering Jack's attitude toward paperwork.
She wondered what it would be like from now on.
I only have a few requests. First, I want to leave all of my assets to my sister and her family, if possible. I've already started small trust funds for my niece and nephew, but I would appreciate it if you directly transfer my account to Rhiannon Davies. You should find all of the relevant paperwork, including her contact information, enclosed.
Gwen blinked, and then looked through the other papers that she had assumed would contain the rest of the letter. They were all bank forms, with one neatly typed sheet containing an address and two phone numbers for "Rhiannon and Johnny Davies."
The last will and testament of Ianto Jones spanned less than a page.
Harry Potter
One of the ones with Regulus and Sirius
"Mum and Dad will kill you when they see those," Regulus commented.
Sirius rolled his eyes. It's not like his parents even bothered to come into his room these days.
"No they won't. They won't even know. Unless someone tells them." Sirius eyes his younger brother suspiciously.
"I'm not a snitch, Sirius," Regulus protested.
Sirius shrugged. "Snitch, Slytherin. S'all the same."
"That's not true, Sirius, stop it! And it's not like I had a choice, not after you went and picked Gryffindor."
Sirius stopped short. "You don't pick, Reggie. The hat chooses for you."
"You can ask," Regulus insisted.
The One with the Sorting Hat and Helga Hufflepuff being Awesome
Once the four houses were balanced.
Hmmm, no that wasn't fair. Once the houses had been closely guarded enclaves of single-minded focus and drive. Hufflepuff was the largest house for years, not by design but by default. Salazar jealously guarded his students, training them in strategic planning and cunning. Godric's students were daring and brave, but some students refused to go through his challenges our of healthy skepticism, leaving him with only those foolhardy enough to follow him through fire. And Rowena's students were either brilliant enough to pass any test she could devise, or were so utterly dedicated for learning for learning's sake that they were totally disconnected with the rest of the world.
Helga welcomed everyone with open arms, and it was her house that carried the rest after Godric and Salazar dueled and fled.
And then Helga had come to me, with a grumbling Rowena at her heels. Helga peered down at me, hands on her hips.
"Sorting Hat, this institution is unbalanced and splintered, and I will not let it stand."
I sat on my stool, still shiny and bright, and waited to hear her decision.
"You are to make the houses even, oh Hat. You will give Ravenclaw house students who understand the practical applications of knowledge, you will give Gryffindor House students who balance their bravery with fear and a healthy sense of self-preservation. And you will give Slytherin students goals beyond power and pain. I will still accept everyone, of course. But aim for a more even distribution."
The One with the Nightmares
Cedric was the first to die, and Harry would always remember him.
Harry wasn't particularly close to Cedric, and he didn't know him as well as say, Fred, but nightmares always began with him. Cedric falling over, dead before he even knew what was happening. Dead before anyone knew what was happening, really. Dead before the war officially began. Pointlessly dead. Dead.
He knows that Ginny's nightmares are mostly about the battle at Hogwarts, her whole family there right in the thick of it. Ron's were about leaving him and Hermione alone, and about Hermione's screams as he pounded helplessly at locked doors. Hermione dreaded the endless months of useless wandering, of missing Ron, of not knowing the answer.
Harry dreamt of all of that and more. He dreamt of the people who died in front of him, because of him, around him. One particularly bad dream hit after he read all the names of the witches and wizards killed while Voldermort had been weeding out muggle-borns and blood-traitors, people who died under torture, or in Azkaban. His nightmares after that were mostly of reaching hands and endless white faces.
But it still come back to Cedric, eventually.
One of the Ones with George Weasley - with added Percy!
George grabbed another box and opened it, checking the contents over. The door opened on the other side of the room. "Over here!" he directed, sticking his head into the box to make sure that everything was sealed tightly.
"George?" Percy's voice was quiet and a little hesitant. George started, and pulled out of the box.
Percy was standing there in his work robes, holding his jacket over one arm.
"Hey, Perce." George said, suddenly feeling horribly awkward in his crumpled robes and dragon-hide gloves coated in dust. "What're you doing here?"
Percy shifted his weight to his other leg. "Well, I wanted to-" he cut himself off. "I guess I wanted to visit for a bit."
"Alright, then." George said. "I just need to finish this one thing and then...."
"Oh, don't let me stop you!" Percy insisted, his eyes widening. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
George blinked, surprised that Percy was even offering. "Well....yeah. I need more Toffees for the floor tomorrow. Would you mind grabbing about sixty boxes and seeing how many are left?" George has a rough estimate in his head that said he was going to have to make more this week. He hadn't made enough of most things when they reopened. Verity was great, but it used to be so easy to make things on time...
George closed the box, tracing the seam to seal it with his wand. It was a bit big for owl post, but he didn't trust the floo network at all these days. He blew out a breath.
"There are approximately two hundred eight-six boxes of Ton-Tongue Toffees that I could find." Percy said. "If you put them out sixty out a time, you might want to look into replacing some of them soon."
George did some rough arithmetic in his head. "Next Thursday," he decided, and pulled out a scrap of parchment to scribble it down on.
"Sorry, what?" Percy asked, and George realized that he did it again. Poor Verity was getting extremely good at figuring out his sentence fragments, but Percy hadn't been here for the past few weeks,
DC Comics
The One Where Stephanie is Totally Damian's Big Sister
"Wake up, kiddo."
Damian didn't open his eyes. Today was Sunday. On Sunday he was allowed to sleep late, and he didn't have to do any schoolwork if he didn't want to. That was what made Sunday the best.
"Go away," Damian informed Stephanie, who he could identify by the sound of her voice, her unique tread and the smell of her cheap shampoo.
"Too late. I know what today is, and you'll neeeveeeer escape now!"
She pulled the blanket off of him, and he couldn't stop the involuntary curling in from the sudden cold.
"What is today?" He said, to cover up his lack of control.
In response, of course, she launched into a song. "Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Damiiiaaaan! Happy biiiiirthday-"
He clapped both hands over his ears, and squeezed his eyes shut. "Must you sing that inane drivel?" It sounded like something Pennyworth would say, but lacking his acid wit, it didn't stop her.
"-toooo yooooou!" She ended, pulling open the curtain. Damian managed to keep himself from responding physically that time, mostly because his eyes were already screwed up.
"You'd better hurry up, I think Dick's almost done with breakfast. And they you're getting the best birthday ever."
She then began to sing another childish tune, but this one was much more demanding. "Skip around the room! Skip around the room! I won't shut up 'till you skip around the room! Skip around the room! Skip around the room!"
Damian considered the consequences of ignoring her.
The One Where Garth and Imra visit Winath and are Adorable
The shuttle landed gently and Garth jumped out, grabbing the bags and piling them on a waiting anti-grav cart. Imra walked after him, looking around. They were both in traveling clothes, no hint of their Legion uniforms, but in Metropolis their faces were fairly well-known these days. They didn't get too many odd stares as they walked through the station to the mag-train. Garth seemed easy, calm, buying the tickets and pulling Imra on the train with him. Imra frowned as they stepped onto the train, rubbing her forehead. Thoughts around her suddenly took an odd cadence...an echo. She looked up from the floor to see two children staring at her, identical expressions of interest on their faces. She blinked back at them and smiled, and they both smiled back. Then they went back to sharing their text-reader, huddling over it together. Imra looked around the mag-car and noticed everyone sitting in pairs, whispering to each other, fighting over space, looking out the window. Some of them looked to be married couples, but most of them... Imra blinked. It was like seeing double, even though most of the twins weren't exactly identical. They all felt similar, though, their thoughts in a vague unison.
"Winath," Imra muttered in awe. Twins happened on Titan, but more rarely, not even up to the average standard of Earth. Her eyes widened even further at two sets of couples, out on a double-date, who were obviously two brothers courting two sisters. The boys were dressed similarly, but the girls were nearly identical except for the colors of their dresses. It was like seeing Luornu after splitting into one of Brainy's clever outfits. The same, but different.
Garth slung one arm around her protectively. "It's pretty common for sets of twins to marry each other," he explained. "It's very comfortable. Familiar, you know? A lot of twins also go into the same line of work. It's hard, being separate for too long." He ducked his head in acknowledgment of his own status on that regard.
Imra couldn't imagine the Ranzz's expecting their children to go into intergalactic heroic exploits as a shared career, though.
Star Trek XI/ Reboot
The One Where I Explain the Cadet That Beat Kirk Up In the Bar
Raphael Giotto Burly was the oldest of seven. This wasn't really relevant to most of his life, but it did mean a steady list of birthdays and important anniversaries to keep track of. It also meant a childhood of chasing after Antony, Ben, Shirley, Nick, Lizzie and Marco. It meant that when he graduated high school he didn't head straight for the nearest recruitment center because Nikki was addicted to an illegal imported drug from Doogla Eight and Marco was flunking and Mom was in remission, so it was up to him to pick up the slack while Dad was shipping.
It meant that when Shirley got in trouble out by the docks, it was up to him to drag her back home. It meant that when Ben got picked up by the scumbag from Outpost Lunar Four, Raphael had gone in fist swinging to make sure Ben made it out alive. It meant that he had to be there when Antony graduated with honors, and he had to send Anty on to college first.
It meant that actually going to Starfleet was like tearing a piece out of his heart, but Shirley kicked him out, her eyes hard.
"Get out here, Raphy. You know where you want to go, and we'll be here to visit."
It meant that when Ben was finally found in a ditch, Raphael was out doing his field training. It meant that when Marco won a scholarship to a school off-planet, Raphael didn't find out until after he came back from his weightless training. It meant that when Lizzie brought home her fiance, Raphael had to meet him through a propped-up PADD set up on the dining room table.
It meant that when Nick ran away from home, Raphael smuggled him onto campus for two months, feeding him off of rations and bribing his roommate to silence.
The One Where Pike Has to Pick an Emergency Crew for the Enterprise While He Waits for the Real Crew to be Approved
Chris chewed on his lip. He was getting the flagship of the fleet. For his final crew, he practically had his pick. Applications had been coming in since the theory about why he would give up captaincy for five years to teach had finally become wide-spread. He'd been ignoring most of them anyway, browsing personnel files in his spare time to pick people on his own.
But for the contingency crew he was stuck with anyone in the immediate area not currently serving on a ship. Some fourth-year cadets were allowed to be sent out, but only in certain circumstances. With this ship being added suddenly, it was likely that he could get a skeleton crew at best.
So...commanding officers. Once he had those, they would probably help him.
He pulled up the list of crew and required jobs on the ship. Over 500 people, one of the biggest crews out there. Chris stripped the list down to basic skeleton crew, three shifts.
First Officer? Spock. The Vulcan was teaching for a variety of reasons, but one of them was definitely to quietly remind Chris of his promise when he left the ship to Number One. Chris already knew that he got along well with cold logic to balance his own emotional style of leadership.
CMO? He hadn't picked one yet for his final choice. Part of him was dying to get Boyce, and he might do it. But park of him knew how hard it would be to tear Boyce off the Yorktown. And part of him didn't want to take away the best doctor he knew from Number One. She would probably reassign Boyce if he ever told her that. Or refuse to allow the transfer and keep him.
Well, he'd been to the Starfleet hospital once or twice. There was one doctor...Burry? Pully? He'd been called in when that shuttle crashed last winter, and had been remarkably calm and informative reporting afterwards to the panel overseeing the incident. Pike pulled up the files on the hospital and found Puri. He scheduled an appointment for Tuesday.
In I Try To Figure Out How Kirk Got The Enterprise
They offered command to Spock first.
Because yes, he had become emotionally compromised, but it wasn't like the circumstances were going to repeat themselves. He was well-trained and had a solid track record with the academy, and he was reliable. Kirk was a firecracker, wild and uncontrollable and unpredictable and it wasn't exactly what Starfleet was looking for.
Spock was a quantifiable factor, and Kirk was the wild card.
So it stands to reason that they offered it to Spock first. Even Pike said he deserved to be raised to a captain. (Pike's comments on Kirk were not recorded).
And it came as a surprise to almost everyone when he immediately turned them down.
The One Where Chekov Prepares the Only Traditional Russian Dish I Have Ever Eaten
"Lieutenant Spire?"
Noemie looked up from the tangle of wires under her terminal.
"Ensign," she responded, wondering what he wanted. The boy was only eighteen, still the youngest crewmember on the ship, although there were at least two nineteen-year-olds in operations somewhere.
"Um," he said, helpfully. He was holding a PADD tucked under one arm,
Noemie sighed and wiped her hands on her rag, and carefully stood up.
"What do you need, Ensign Chekov?"
"I vish -- I am going to be making the dish for the next bridge meeting, and Keptin told me to make something traditional." Chekov explained. "I vas vondering if you could help vith some things the replicator does not make."
At this, Noemie smiled. Everyone knew that the bi-monthly meetings were more for bonding than actual ship operations.
"Let me see," she said, holding out her hand for the PADD. He handed it over, and she skimmed the ingredients. Carrots, potatoes, and onions would be best from hydroponics. Mayonnaise was already in the replicator as a common condiment. Hard-boiled eggs were a staple for many different crew members. Beets wouldn't be hard to program, she was sure the sequence was saved to her files. But the last ingredient was a little more unusual.
"'Salted herring, diced?'" she read, raising an eyebrow.
"It is traditional," he insisted. "But I vill need help for a vegetarian portion. For Commander Spock."
Avater: The Last Airbender
The One Where Aang Complains About Textbook Inaccuracy to Zuko
"You did what?"
"Well, I was playing hooky-"
"They thought you were playing hooky."
"Right, and so I got sent to school and there were learning history-"
"Wasn't that the second day?"
"I don't remember, Sokka! The point is that-"
"Fire nation kids can't dance. Which is just sad, really."
"What? That's the emergency that I have to fix immediately?"
"No! Well, sort of. Not exactly. That wasn't the point I was going to-"
Katara stood up. "Stop! All of you!"
The three boys turned their faces up to look at her. Katara put her hands on her hips. "Just let Aang finish making his point, Sokka."
"No, keep interrupting Sokka, this is hilarious." Toph said.
"Toph!"
Zuko put a hand up, stopping Katara. "I'm still confused. How did you get into a Fire Nation school?"
"I told them I was from the colonies," Aang said, impatiently. "That's not really important-"
"I spend years trying to track you down, and you just manage to walk into a Fire Nation school like everything is normal? Aaargh." Zuko rubbed his forehead.
ETA: See, iceshade? Some of this stuff has been lying around unfinished for years!
As I have something like 60+ (NOT KIDDING) unfinished fic lying around, I thought I'd give you a limited selection . (And some of it I might actually finish now. This meme was a great excuse to go digging around my old stuff!)
First, Torchwood is my current crazy muse, and it has at least 23 unfinished short fics, and two ideas for long fics. So it gets to go first. But warning: I've started fic for a lot of fandoms.
Torchwood
The One Where Jack Implements Changes in Torchwood Policy, Despite the Face that HE IS THE ONLY PERON LEFT IN TORCHWOOD THREE
Jack used to be a surprise for the newbies at Torchwood Three. One day he'd get sent on some sort of suicide mission, or he'd take a bullet or once Eva just shot him in the head, and the new kid would jump or shriek or one particularly memorable time, faint.
But with everyone gone, no one was around to know Jack's secret. Well, no one in Torchwood at least. Alice was still out in England proper, and she tried to ignore him anyway.
The One That Takes Place BEFORE Cyberwoman! (in which Ianto picks his clothes)
"It's Torchwood Cardiff." Ianto said, brow furrowing. "It's Torchwood Three."
He shifted to the side, so Lisa could see his clothes, hanging from a makeshift bar suspended by boxes in the back of the lorry. The lorry Ianto had stolen from Torchwood One only two weeks ago. The lorry with all of the stuff that Ianto was going to unpack. Soon. Really.
"And it's the Captain Jack Harkness," Lisa added, scanning his jumpers and ties.
"I have to fit in here," Ianto decided. "Look more casual. More Three." He fingered a jumper.
"You have to flirt." Lisa told him.
Ianto fisted a hand in a hoodie. "I will not flirt."
Lisa gave a soft sigh. "Ianto..."
Ianto turned around. Lisa was biting her lip, one of the most expressive actions left to her. He felt cold.
"You need to distract him," she apologized softly.
"I'm completely qualified." Ianto said. He turned back and pushed the suits aside. Jeans, then. He went to dig up a pair of jeans from a box.
"Not a lot." Lisa said, raising her voice slightly to he could still hear her among the boxes and bin bags he's stuffed haphazardly around her conver-no. Life-support. "You just need to keep him interested. Marcos said he flirts with everything that moves, even Hartman that one time."
Ianto heard that story too. Everyone had.
The One that takes place AFTER Cyberwoman
Ianto pushed the door open with his shoulder, balancing his bags and boxes carefully.
"It's me," he called to Rhiannon.
"Ianto?" Rhi's voice came closer to the stairs as Ianto carefully navigated them. "What are you doing here so late - Ianto!"
She clattered down the stairs and pulled some bags from his. "Ianto? What is this?"
Ianto met his sister's eyes, an automatic smile stretching out his face. "I missed some birthdays." He fumbled a bit, trying to balance himself. "And Christmas."
Rhiannon gaped at him. "Ianto, you don't...."
"I bought sweets," he pulled a box from one of the bags. "For David and Mica. I wasn't sure what they liked, but I thought that they must like something." He pulled out a few bars of Cadburry's as they reached the kitchen, and put them on the table.
Mica's eyes peeked over the couch, but David was too absorbed in the telly. Johnny looked at him like he was crazy.
"Ianto, maybe you should sit for a moment, yeah?"
Ianto blinked at her, and Rhiannon noticed the dark smudges under his eyes, and the tight way he was holding himself. There was something he wasn't telling her. Something that had him buying presents and showing up far too late at night.
Rhiannon steered Ianto toward a chair.
The One Where Ianto has to Dress up as a Student and then Maybe Jack has to be a History Professor and Hijinks Ensue!
"No," Ianto took an involuntary step backwards, watching the data play across Tosh's screen.
"We can't figure out what these students have in common. They don't even take the same classes. But they're all at Cardiff University."
"So what exactly am I supposed to do? Drift around and look like a student for long enough?"
"We're working to match you to the profile." Tosh said, her fingers flying over the keys. "Every missing student has been Welsh, a history major, and about twenty years old. A few more boys have been taken than girls, but not enough to make an appreciable difference."
"I'm not twenty." Ianto pointed out.
"You could pass," Jack said, coming up behind him suddenly. "If you slouched, and messed up your hair, and put on jeans."
Ianto stiffened automatically.
"Yeah, don't do that."
Ianto glared at him.
The One Where Ianto Had to Save the Team With His Completely Inadequate Psychic Training While Jack is Away
After Jack got back, he dug up the files meticulously kept (by Ianto) to catch up on the days he left. But during the day he was flooded with work, from signing forms that Ianto shoved at him to trying to juggle the new work dynamics swirling around the Hub.
So instead he climbed out of his bunker at night (or sometimes, drove back from Ianto's flat) and huddled over Tosh's desk, scrolling through CCTV footage while reading between the lines of Owen's medical reports, Gwen's sloppy commentary and Ianto's careful wording. (Tosh was typically the most straightforward, but occasionally she drifted into lengthy explanations of technical details.)
When he first left they had scrambled for a while. Owen tried to take control because Tosh - who had seniority - was never going to claim it. Ianto was quietly and vehemently against Owen's command, and Gwen fought him constantly and Tosh was quietly uncomfortable with it. It took nearly two weeks before they came to a breaking point, and Ianto slid Gwen into command, leaving Owen as the second and himself and Tosh as support. For a few days Owen's reports were sulky and skimpy on details and Tosh sent a lot of chatty emails.
Then Owen and Gwen took down an automated rubbish collector from Klaxorrr Eight that had been removing homeless people as waste. Ianto had managed to refuse to leave the hub to chase it and Tosh pulled a satellite out of orbit to track that thing while Gwen and Owen worked through it while scattering rubbish bins across Butetown in a wild attempt at distraction while they assembled that big gun.
Of course, that didn't exactly last well. Gwen gets clipped on the shoulder by a paralytic dart and loses all ability in her left arm for a while. She could still scribble out her reports, but couldn't handle a gun, and Ianto got more practice on the shooting range before getting thrown into the field. (Gwen's cover story was a pinched nerve, and Owen tied her arm up in a sling every night for Rhys.)
Ianto and Owen didn't get along well in the field, and just as Gwen started recovering a tingly sort of feeling in her arm, Tosh broke her leg.
Jack watched the CCTV of Ianto and Owen struggling to carry Tosh into the hub from the garage while Gwen scrambled with one hand to prepare a space in the middle of the Hub so they wouldn't have to handle the stairs. Owen was bleeding from a head wound (missing from his written report, although Ianto had noted it) and kept trying to blink tears out his eyes while bracing Tosh, leaving Ianto to guide them both to Gwen. Tosh was gripping Owen's shoulder in pain, and Jack crumpled some of the files in his fist while he watched Tosh brace herself against Ianto while Gwen clutched a tray of medical tools and Owen pulled Tosh's leg into place. The sound was low, so all Jack could hear was muted screaming.
He clicked off the CCTV and did paperwork the rest of the night. Ianto blinked in shock when he got to Jack's office with the morning coffee. Jack flashed back to a moment when Ianto had both arms wrapped around Tosh to hold her steady, with Owen's blood smeared across his hands and cuffs.
Then he waggled his eyebrows as he handed over the papers for Ianto to properly copy and collate and file.
This One is NOT a Fix-It. You have Been Warned
Dear Jack,
Gwen chokes back a sob, because of course Ianto made out his will to Jack. Because Jack is the only one that he could guarantee would be there after anything and everything. Except Jack wasn't here, was he? It was just Gwen now, sorting through the mess Jack left behind.
I trust that all of my possessions are even now being sorted away according to standard operating procedure. The files containing information relevant to my successor is stored on Mainframe under, "Streamlined Operations and Procedure for General Support and Decontamination." Pay careful attention to Myfanwy's diet.
So that's what the intimidating file was for. Gwen wondered what life was like in Torchwood before Ianto. She could hardly imagine the mess it must have been, considering Jack's attitude toward paperwork.
She wondered what it would be like from now on.
I only have a few requests. First, I want to leave all of my assets to my sister and her family, if possible. I've already started small trust funds for my niece and nephew, but I would appreciate it if you directly transfer my account to Rhiannon Davies. You should find all of the relevant paperwork, including her contact information, enclosed.
Gwen blinked, and then looked through the other papers that she had assumed would contain the rest of the letter. They were all bank forms, with one neatly typed sheet containing an address and two phone numbers for "Rhiannon and Johnny Davies."
The last will and testament of Ianto Jones spanned less than a page.
Harry Potter
One of the ones with Regulus and Sirius
"Mum and Dad will kill you when they see those," Regulus commented.
Sirius rolled his eyes. It's not like his parents even bothered to come into his room these days.
"No they won't. They won't even know. Unless someone tells them." Sirius eyes his younger brother suspiciously.
"I'm not a snitch, Sirius," Regulus protested.
Sirius shrugged. "Snitch, Slytherin. S'all the same."
"That's not true, Sirius, stop it! And it's not like I had a choice, not after you went and picked Gryffindor."
Sirius stopped short. "You don't pick, Reggie. The hat chooses for you."
"You can ask," Regulus insisted.
The One with the Sorting Hat and Helga Hufflepuff being Awesome
Once the four houses were balanced.
Hmmm, no that wasn't fair. Once the houses had been closely guarded enclaves of single-minded focus and drive. Hufflepuff was the largest house for years, not by design but by default. Salazar jealously guarded his students, training them in strategic planning and cunning. Godric's students were daring and brave, but some students refused to go through his challenges our of healthy skepticism, leaving him with only those foolhardy enough to follow him through fire. And Rowena's students were either brilliant enough to pass any test she could devise, or were so utterly dedicated for learning for learning's sake that they were totally disconnected with the rest of the world.
Helga welcomed everyone with open arms, and it was her house that carried the rest after Godric and Salazar dueled and fled.
And then Helga had come to me, with a grumbling Rowena at her heels. Helga peered down at me, hands on her hips.
"Sorting Hat, this institution is unbalanced and splintered, and I will not let it stand."
I sat on my stool, still shiny and bright, and waited to hear her decision.
"You are to make the houses even, oh Hat. You will give Ravenclaw house students who understand the practical applications of knowledge, you will give Gryffindor House students who balance their bravery with fear and a healthy sense of self-preservation. And you will give Slytherin students goals beyond power and pain. I will still accept everyone, of course. But aim for a more even distribution."
The One with the Nightmares
Cedric was the first to die, and Harry would always remember him.
Harry wasn't particularly close to Cedric, and he didn't know him as well as say, Fred, but nightmares always began with him. Cedric falling over, dead before he even knew what was happening. Dead before anyone knew what was happening, really. Dead before the war officially began. Pointlessly dead. Dead.
He knows that Ginny's nightmares are mostly about the battle at Hogwarts, her whole family there right in the thick of it. Ron's were about leaving him and Hermione alone, and about Hermione's screams as he pounded helplessly at locked doors. Hermione dreaded the endless months of useless wandering, of missing Ron, of not knowing the answer.
Harry dreamt of all of that and more. He dreamt of the people who died in front of him, because of him, around him. One particularly bad dream hit after he read all the names of the witches and wizards killed while Voldermort had been weeding out muggle-borns and blood-traitors, people who died under torture, or in Azkaban. His nightmares after that were mostly of reaching hands and endless white faces.
But it still come back to Cedric, eventually.
One of the Ones with George Weasley - with added Percy!
George grabbed another box and opened it, checking the contents over. The door opened on the other side of the room. "Over here!" he directed, sticking his head into the box to make sure that everything was sealed tightly.
"George?" Percy's voice was quiet and a little hesitant. George started, and pulled out of the box.
Percy was standing there in his work robes, holding his jacket over one arm.
"Hey, Perce." George said, suddenly feeling horribly awkward in his crumpled robes and dragon-hide gloves coated in dust. "What're you doing here?"
Percy shifted his weight to his other leg. "Well, I wanted to-" he cut himself off. "I guess I wanted to visit for a bit."
"Alright, then." George said. "I just need to finish this one thing and then...."
"Oh, don't let me stop you!" Percy insisted, his eyes widening. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
George blinked, surprised that Percy was even offering. "Well....yeah. I need more Toffees for the floor tomorrow. Would you mind grabbing about sixty boxes and seeing how many are left?" George has a rough estimate in his head that said he was going to have to make more this week. He hadn't made enough of most things when they reopened. Verity was great, but it used to be so easy to make things on time...
George closed the box, tracing the seam to seal it with his wand. It was a bit big for owl post, but he didn't trust the floo network at all these days. He blew out a breath.
"There are approximately two hundred eight-six boxes of Ton-Tongue Toffees that I could find." Percy said. "If you put them out sixty out a time, you might want to look into replacing some of them soon."
George did some rough arithmetic in his head. "Next Thursday," he decided, and pulled out a scrap of parchment to scribble it down on.
"Sorry, what?" Percy asked, and George realized that he did it again. Poor Verity was getting extremely good at figuring out his sentence fragments, but Percy hadn't been here for the past few weeks,
DC Comics
The One Where Stephanie is Totally Damian's Big Sister
"Wake up, kiddo."
Damian didn't open his eyes. Today was Sunday. On Sunday he was allowed to sleep late, and he didn't have to do any schoolwork if he didn't want to. That was what made Sunday the best.
"Go away," Damian informed Stephanie, who he could identify by the sound of her voice, her unique tread and the smell of her cheap shampoo.
"Too late. I know what today is, and you'll neeeveeeer escape now!"
She pulled the blanket off of him, and he couldn't stop the involuntary curling in from the sudden cold.
"What is today?" He said, to cover up his lack of control.
In response, of course, she launched into a song. "Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Damiiiaaaan! Happy biiiiirthday-"
He clapped both hands over his ears, and squeezed his eyes shut. "Must you sing that inane drivel?" It sounded like something Pennyworth would say, but lacking his acid wit, it didn't stop her.
"-toooo yooooou!" She ended, pulling open the curtain. Damian managed to keep himself from responding physically that time, mostly because his eyes were already screwed up.
"You'd better hurry up, I think Dick's almost done with breakfast. And they you're getting the best birthday ever."
She then began to sing another childish tune, but this one was much more demanding. "Skip around the room! Skip around the room! I won't shut up 'till you skip around the room! Skip around the room! Skip around the room!"
Damian considered the consequences of ignoring her.
The One Where Garth and Imra visit Winath and are Adorable
The shuttle landed gently and Garth jumped out, grabbing the bags and piling them on a waiting anti-grav cart. Imra walked after him, looking around. They were both in traveling clothes, no hint of their Legion uniforms, but in Metropolis their faces were fairly well-known these days. They didn't get too many odd stares as they walked through the station to the mag-train. Garth seemed easy, calm, buying the tickets and pulling Imra on the train with him. Imra frowned as they stepped onto the train, rubbing her forehead. Thoughts around her suddenly took an odd cadence...an echo. She looked up from the floor to see two children staring at her, identical expressions of interest on their faces. She blinked back at them and smiled, and they both smiled back. Then they went back to sharing their text-reader, huddling over it together. Imra looked around the mag-car and noticed everyone sitting in pairs, whispering to each other, fighting over space, looking out the window. Some of them looked to be married couples, but most of them... Imra blinked. It was like seeing double, even though most of the twins weren't exactly identical. They all felt similar, though, their thoughts in a vague unison.
"Winath," Imra muttered in awe. Twins happened on Titan, but more rarely, not even up to the average standard of Earth. Her eyes widened even further at two sets of couples, out on a double-date, who were obviously two brothers courting two sisters. The boys were dressed similarly, but the girls were nearly identical except for the colors of their dresses. It was like seeing Luornu after splitting into one of Brainy's clever outfits. The same, but different.
Garth slung one arm around her protectively. "It's pretty common for sets of twins to marry each other," he explained. "It's very comfortable. Familiar, you know? A lot of twins also go into the same line of work. It's hard, being separate for too long." He ducked his head in acknowledgment of his own status on that regard.
Imra couldn't imagine the Ranzz's expecting their children to go into intergalactic heroic exploits as a shared career, though.
Star Trek XI/ Reboot
The One Where I Explain the Cadet That Beat Kirk Up In the Bar
Raphael Giotto Burly was the oldest of seven. This wasn't really relevant to most of his life, but it did mean a steady list of birthdays and important anniversaries to keep track of. It also meant a childhood of chasing after Antony, Ben, Shirley, Nick, Lizzie and Marco. It meant that when he graduated high school he didn't head straight for the nearest recruitment center because Nikki was addicted to an illegal imported drug from Doogla Eight and Marco was flunking and Mom was in remission, so it was up to him to pick up the slack while Dad was shipping.
It meant that when Shirley got in trouble out by the docks, it was up to him to drag her back home. It meant that when Ben got picked up by the scumbag from Outpost Lunar Four, Raphael had gone in fist swinging to make sure Ben made it out alive. It meant that he had to be there when Antony graduated with honors, and he had to send Anty on to college first.
It meant that actually going to Starfleet was like tearing a piece out of his heart, but Shirley kicked him out, her eyes hard.
"Get out here, Raphy. You know where you want to go, and we'll be here to visit."
It meant that when Ben was finally found in a ditch, Raphael was out doing his field training. It meant that when Marco won a scholarship to a school off-planet, Raphael didn't find out until after he came back from his weightless training. It meant that when Lizzie brought home her fiance, Raphael had to meet him through a propped-up PADD set up on the dining room table.
It meant that when Nick ran away from home, Raphael smuggled him onto campus for two months, feeding him off of rations and bribing his roommate to silence.
The One Where Pike Has to Pick an Emergency Crew for the Enterprise While He Waits for the Real Crew to be Approved
Chris chewed on his lip. He was getting the flagship of the fleet. For his final crew, he practically had his pick. Applications had been coming in since the theory about why he would give up captaincy for five years to teach had finally become wide-spread. He'd been ignoring most of them anyway, browsing personnel files in his spare time to pick people on his own.
But for the contingency crew he was stuck with anyone in the immediate area not currently serving on a ship. Some fourth-year cadets were allowed to be sent out, but only in certain circumstances. With this ship being added suddenly, it was likely that he could get a skeleton crew at best.
So...commanding officers. Once he had those, they would probably help him.
He pulled up the list of crew and required jobs on the ship. Over 500 people, one of the biggest crews out there. Chris stripped the list down to basic skeleton crew, three shifts.
First Officer? Spock. The Vulcan was teaching for a variety of reasons, but one of them was definitely to quietly remind Chris of his promise when he left the ship to Number One. Chris already knew that he got along well with cold logic to balance his own emotional style of leadership.
CMO? He hadn't picked one yet for his final choice. Part of him was dying to get Boyce, and he might do it. But park of him knew how hard it would be to tear Boyce off the Yorktown. And part of him didn't want to take away the best doctor he knew from Number One. She would probably reassign Boyce if he ever told her that. Or refuse to allow the transfer and keep him.
Well, he'd been to the Starfleet hospital once or twice. There was one doctor...Burry? Pully? He'd been called in when that shuttle crashed last winter, and had been remarkably calm and informative reporting afterwards to the panel overseeing the incident. Pike pulled up the files on the hospital and found Puri. He scheduled an appointment for Tuesday.
In I Try To Figure Out How Kirk Got The Enterprise
They offered command to Spock first.
Because yes, he had become emotionally compromised, but it wasn't like the circumstances were going to repeat themselves. He was well-trained and had a solid track record with the academy, and he was reliable. Kirk was a firecracker, wild and uncontrollable and unpredictable and it wasn't exactly what Starfleet was looking for.
Spock was a quantifiable factor, and Kirk was the wild card.
So it stands to reason that they offered it to Spock first. Even Pike said he deserved to be raised to a captain. (Pike's comments on Kirk were not recorded).
And it came as a surprise to almost everyone when he immediately turned them down.
The One Where Chekov Prepares the Only Traditional Russian Dish I Have Ever Eaten
"Lieutenant Spire?"
Noemie looked up from the tangle of wires under her terminal.
"Ensign," she responded, wondering what he wanted. The boy was only eighteen, still the youngest crewmember on the ship, although there were at least two nineteen-year-olds in operations somewhere.
"Um," he said, helpfully. He was holding a PADD tucked under one arm,
Noemie sighed and wiped her hands on her rag, and carefully stood up.
"What do you need, Ensign Chekov?"
"I vish -- I am going to be making the dish for the next bridge meeting, and Keptin told me to make something traditional." Chekov explained. "I vas vondering if you could help vith some things the replicator does not make."
At this, Noemie smiled. Everyone knew that the bi-monthly meetings were more for bonding than actual ship operations.
"Let me see," she said, holding out her hand for the PADD. He handed it over, and she skimmed the ingredients. Carrots, potatoes, and onions would be best from hydroponics. Mayonnaise was already in the replicator as a common condiment. Hard-boiled eggs were a staple for many different crew members. Beets wouldn't be hard to program, she was sure the sequence was saved to her files. But the last ingredient was a little more unusual.
"'Salted herring, diced?'" she read, raising an eyebrow.
"It is traditional," he insisted. "But I vill need help for a vegetarian portion. For Commander Spock."
Avater: The Last Airbender
The One Where Aang Complains About Textbook Inaccuracy to Zuko
"You did what?"
"Well, I was playing hooky-"
"They thought you were playing hooky."
"Right, and so I got sent to school and there were learning history-"
"Wasn't that the second day?"
"I don't remember, Sokka! The point is that-"
"Fire nation kids can't dance. Which is just sad, really."
"What? That's the emergency that I have to fix immediately?"
"No! Well, sort of. Not exactly. That wasn't the point I was going to-"
Katara stood up. "Stop! All of you!"
The three boys turned their faces up to look at her. Katara put her hands on her hips. "Just let Aang finish making his point, Sokka."
"No, keep interrupting Sokka, this is hilarious." Toph said.
"Toph!"
Zuko put a hand up, stopping Katara. "I'm still confused. How did you get into a Fire Nation school?"
"I told them I was from the colonies," Aang said, impatiently. "That's not really important-"
"I spend years trying to track you down, and you just manage to walk into a Fire Nation school like everything is normal? Aaargh." Zuko rubbed his forehead.
ETA: See, iceshade? Some of this stuff has been lying around unfinished for years!