Fic Meme: Excerpts from In Progress fic
I started reorganizing my fic files the other day, after I backed them up, and I realized I have a lot of awesome fic in progress and maybe if I post about them, I will finish them. (I'm also trying to convince myself to finish what I already have in progress and not start, oh, this Twilight fic which came to me almost fully formed this morning while I was thinking about one of the technicalities of having sex with vampires who have cold marble hard skin or the Jurassic Park II/Bring it On/Stick It fic about gymnasts being awesome together.)
So on to the meme.
File Title: Wolf Woman Wild sequel
Words: 1000+
I started this when I was trying to figure out what to write for the I Will Remember You 2009 challenge, and though I pulled pieces of it for the fic I eventually wrote for it (and though I've now written a different sequel to Wolf Woman Wild), I really like this story, which addresses how Fast & Furious would fit into the universe of "Wolf Woman Wild."
Excerpt: Letty
Takes a silver bullet to kill me now.
Anything else, even a bullet to the brain, just hurts like hell. I go blank, lost in this red-black explosion when I close my eyes, and if it didn’t hurt so goddamn much, I’d think I was dead.
When I woke up, my first thought was for the headache pounding in my temples, but the second was, of all the dangerous things I was - thief, Vampire Slayer, werewolf - it was loving Dominic Toretto that got me shot in the head.
I blinked and my vision swam. A deep breath brought the scent of werewolf and I realized I wasn’t alone. I glanced over and found Oz, slumped in a chair next to the bed and mostly asleep and holding my hand. I squeezed his fingers and he stirred, then came violently awake.
“Letty.” There were whole speeches in those two syllables and my breath caught. He curled forward, clutching my hand between both of his, and the kiss he pressed to my wrist scalded me.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were working with the FBI?”
I had to look away from the hurt in his eyes. “Undercover means no telling.” Pain shot down my spine and I shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position.
“You’re lucky we have friends on the inside, otherwise you’d have to find some way to explain your blood tests and not being dead.” He kissed my wrist again.
File Title: Boy Meets World and Fast and the Furious crossover
Words: 600+
Awhile back,
thestalkycop was on a huge BMW kick and convinced me to write some fic for her. This is one of the two I really liked but never finished.
Excerpt: It’s just past eight when this girl - woman, maybe, but just barely - strolls into the garage. She’s a cute little thing, all dark hair and big boots and tight scowl which remind him of Letty. That’s got to be why he doesn’t kick her out first thing.
“Shop’s closed.” Dom grabs the rag out of his back pocket and wipes his hands. Grease lingers in the lines of his knuckles and under his nails but he can’t get that out without harsh soap and hot water.
She crosses her arms over her chest and frowns at him. It’s so goddamn much like Letty he has to turn away to hide his smirk. World’s probably not ready for two of them, but what the hell.
He tosses the rag over the edge of car and looks at her again. Her hair’s matted and her shirt looks like she sweated through it and then it dried again. Maybe more than once. There’s a pinched look to her eyes, a tightness to the corners of her mouth.
Dom knows that look. She’s worn out and hungry and pushing herself way too fucking hard. She’s running from something and she’s got nowhere to go and goddamn if he’s going to turn her away.
File Title: Supernatural, Boy Meets World, and BtVS
Words: 600+
This is the other BMW fic I started for The Girl, and the one I liked a lot better, because it involves one of my favorite things, which is to turn a character into a Vampire Slayer.
Excerpt: Harley’s in the parking lot, leaning up against his car, flanked by Joey and Frankie. It is a common thing for them to do, a normal activity for a normal day. There are clusters of students basking in the sunlight, and most of them glance his way. They try to be subtle but fail.
There is nothing strange about the setup, except that Harley Keiner is watching himself lean against the front of his ’67 Impala - the paint the perfect red-black of blood - as if he belongs there. As if he’s real.
Harley digs his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He has sacrificed too many squashed packs and now has a leather case for them. The cigarettes, and his Zippo, are stolen. The case is bought, but the money came from shaking down kids for their lunch money.
He knocks loose a cigarette and puts it between his lips. When he goes to light it - and the Zippo burns true even when he hesitates - the Harley in the parking lot lights up too.
There is something very wrong here.
It gets worse when a hand lands on his shoulder. He moves without thinking - he rarely fights himself, but he knows what to do - grabs the wrist and tries to twist it away, but his attacker moves faster still, spinning out of his hold and shoving his arm up against his back.
“Hi Harley,” she says, and her voice is rougher than he remembers, lower, like she’s smoked a pack a day since she left.
TK.
His little sister.
She bares her teeth in an expression he would not recognize except for the slight quirk of her lips which reminds him of her grin.
Sure enough, she pulls a cigarette out of a rumpled back and lights it in a move so fast he doesn’t see her get out her lighter. She takes one long drag, breathing in slow, watching him, and then another when she stares across the parking lot.
“This is bad.” Her voice is so bland it makes the back of his throat burn. There’s an energy to her he doesn’t understand. It is just one of the ways she’s changed. “I’ll need help.”
“I will take care of you,” he says. It is as automatic as breathing. It makes her smile, a real smile, her old smile, and then she pats his arm gently.
“You did a good job.” She stares across the parking lot again. “It’s my turn now.”
She finishes her cigarette and hooks their arms together. “Come on,” she says and leads him away. “I need a telephone and you can’t be seen.”
“I am already being seen.” People are looking at them strangely, probably because the great and terrible Harley Keiner is being dragged along by a young woman. Most people have forgotten TK. Their loss.
“By it,” she says and there’s a hard cast to her tone. “You don’t want to give away the game so soon.”
File Title: Crossover of Doom (Fast and the Furious, Sons of Anarchy, BtVS, and Supernatural, supposedly)
Words: 1000+
This is an alternate universe high school fic with lots of romance and present day heartache and adventures and women becoming vampire slayers, etc.
Excerpt: The phone call comes late at night, so late it’s very nearly morning. Mia’s asleep and has been for awhile. Next to her, Letty’s hogging the covers and sprawled so she takes up way more than her half of the bed.
Mia’s cell phone rings. In the fog of sleep, she reaches the wrong way and smacks Letty’s breast. Letty hits back and it hurts enough to wake Mia some.
She finally gets her hand on the phone, hits the button to answer it, and shoves it mostly against her ear.
“Yes?” She’s still mostly asleep, but wakes up fast after.
“Donna’s dead.”
And the bottom falls out of Mia’s world.
I'm going to get away from the crossovers file, or I'll be here all day. (There are at least two other Fast and the Furious/Sons of Anarchy stories in progress and four BtVS/F&tF.)
File Title: Say Hello to Your Friends, and Good-bye (Eight ways Dawn Schafer never said good-bye.) (Set during The Baby-Sitters Club #88 "Farewell Dawn")
Words: 700+
I love variations of "Fire Things" fic, and I love themed fic (which -- is basically why I love "Five Things" fic, I guess), and I really like the bits of this I have written.
Excerpt: IV. Mary Anne
Mary Anne sat on my bed. It was stripped of covers and the mattress looked strange, bare and a little broken, like it wasn’t quite right, it wasn’t quite whole without my bedding, without me.
Sunlight streamed through the blinds on my window, and made the beads, colored glass, and stones around her throat gleam. She fingered the necklace and smiled at me, but the corners of her mouth trembled and I could see tears fill her eyes.
Mary Anne is so sensitive. Commercials make her tear up, and her boyfriend, Logan, takes an entire box of tissues with them when they go to a sad movie. I should have expected her to cry when I gave her the necklace, my good-bye gift to her. Even though she had been acting like a royal bitch to me lately, I was glad we had made up and I would get to say good-bye to my real best friend and step-sister.
I sat on the bed next to her and put my arm across her shoulders.
“It’s okay, Mary Anne,” I said, and squeezed her into a hug. “Please don’t cry.”
That was a useless request and I knew it. The tears spilled over and slipped down her cheeks. I didn’t have any tissues left in my room, everything I owned was packed into boxes and either already shipped to California or stuck in the attic waiting for me to come back for a visit. (The attic boxes were mostly filled with winter clothes. I was glad to be rid of them, at least for my daily life. I was pretty sure I would never learn to like the cold weather.)
I wiped her cheek with my sleeve, which made her sputter a little with a cross between sobs and laughter.
Okay then, that was fun. What are you writing these days?
So on to the meme.
File Title: Wolf Woman Wild sequel
Words: 1000+
I started this when I was trying to figure out what to write for the I Will Remember You 2009 challenge, and though I pulled pieces of it for the fic I eventually wrote for it (and though I've now written a different sequel to Wolf Woman Wild), I really like this story, which addresses how Fast & Furious would fit into the universe of "Wolf Woman Wild."
Excerpt: Letty
Takes a silver bullet to kill me now.
Anything else, even a bullet to the brain, just hurts like hell. I go blank, lost in this red-black explosion when I close my eyes, and if it didn’t hurt so goddamn much, I’d think I was dead.
When I woke up, my first thought was for the headache pounding in my temples, but the second was, of all the dangerous things I was - thief, Vampire Slayer, werewolf - it was loving Dominic Toretto that got me shot in the head.
I blinked and my vision swam. A deep breath brought the scent of werewolf and I realized I wasn’t alone. I glanced over and found Oz, slumped in a chair next to the bed and mostly asleep and holding my hand. I squeezed his fingers and he stirred, then came violently awake.
“Letty.” There were whole speeches in those two syllables and my breath caught. He curled forward, clutching my hand between both of his, and the kiss he pressed to my wrist scalded me.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were working with the FBI?”
I had to look away from the hurt in his eyes. “Undercover means no telling.” Pain shot down my spine and I shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position.
“You’re lucky we have friends on the inside, otherwise you’d have to find some way to explain your blood tests and not being dead.” He kissed my wrist again.
File Title: Boy Meets World and Fast and the Furious crossover
Words: 600+
Awhile back,
thestalkycop was on a huge BMW kick and convinced me to write some fic for her. This is one of the two I really liked but never finished.
Excerpt: It’s just past eight when this girl - woman, maybe, but just barely - strolls into the garage. She’s a cute little thing, all dark hair and big boots and tight scowl which remind him of Letty. That’s got to be why he doesn’t kick her out first thing.
“Shop’s closed.” Dom grabs the rag out of his back pocket and wipes his hands. Grease lingers in the lines of his knuckles and under his nails but he can’t get that out without harsh soap and hot water.
She crosses her arms over her chest and frowns at him. It’s so goddamn much like Letty he has to turn away to hide his smirk. World’s probably not ready for two of them, but what the hell.
He tosses the rag over the edge of car and looks at her again. Her hair’s matted and her shirt looks like she sweated through it and then it dried again. Maybe more than once. There’s a pinched look to her eyes, a tightness to the corners of her mouth.
Dom knows that look. She’s worn out and hungry and pushing herself way too fucking hard. She’s running from something and she’s got nowhere to go and goddamn if he’s going to turn her away.
File Title: Supernatural, Boy Meets World, and BtVS
Words: 600+
This is the other BMW fic I started for The Girl, and the one I liked a lot better, because it involves one of my favorite things, which is to turn a character into a Vampire Slayer.
Excerpt: Harley’s in the parking lot, leaning up against his car, flanked by Joey and Frankie. It is a common thing for them to do, a normal activity for a normal day. There are clusters of students basking in the sunlight, and most of them glance his way. They try to be subtle but fail.
There is nothing strange about the setup, except that Harley Keiner is watching himself lean against the front of his ’67 Impala - the paint the perfect red-black of blood - as if he belongs there. As if he’s real.
Harley digs his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He has sacrificed too many squashed packs and now has a leather case for them. The cigarettes, and his Zippo, are stolen. The case is bought, but the money came from shaking down kids for their lunch money.
He knocks loose a cigarette and puts it between his lips. When he goes to light it - and the Zippo burns true even when he hesitates - the Harley in the parking lot lights up too.
There is something very wrong here.
It gets worse when a hand lands on his shoulder. He moves without thinking - he rarely fights himself, but he knows what to do - grabs the wrist and tries to twist it away, but his attacker moves faster still, spinning out of his hold and shoving his arm up against his back.
“Hi Harley,” she says, and her voice is rougher than he remembers, lower, like she’s smoked a pack a day since she left.
TK.
His little sister.
She bares her teeth in an expression he would not recognize except for the slight quirk of her lips which reminds him of her grin.
Sure enough, she pulls a cigarette out of a rumpled back and lights it in a move so fast he doesn’t see her get out her lighter. She takes one long drag, breathing in slow, watching him, and then another when she stares across the parking lot.
“This is bad.” Her voice is so bland it makes the back of his throat burn. There’s an energy to her he doesn’t understand. It is just one of the ways she’s changed. “I’ll need help.”
“I will take care of you,” he says. It is as automatic as breathing. It makes her smile, a real smile, her old smile, and then she pats his arm gently.
“You did a good job.” She stares across the parking lot again. “It’s my turn now.”
She finishes her cigarette and hooks their arms together. “Come on,” she says and leads him away. “I need a telephone and you can’t be seen.”
“I am already being seen.” People are looking at them strangely, probably because the great and terrible Harley Keiner is being dragged along by a young woman. Most people have forgotten TK. Their loss.
“By it,” she says and there’s a hard cast to her tone. “You don’t want to give away the game so soon.”
File Title: Crossover of Doom (Fast and the Furious, Sons of Anarchy, BtVS, and Supernatural, supposedly)
Words: 1000+
This is an alternate universe high school fic with lots of romance and present day heartache and adventures and women becoming vampire slayers, etc.
Excerpt: The phone call comes late at night, so late it’s very nearly morning. Mia’s asleep and has been for awhile. Next to her, Letty’s hogging the covers and sprawled so she takes up way more than her half of the bed.
Mia’s cell phone rings. In the fog of sleep, she reaches the wrong way and smacks Letty’s breast. Letty hits back and it hurts enough to wake Mia some.
She finally gets her hand on the phone, hits the button to answer it, and shoves it mostly against her ear.
“Yes?” She’s still mostly asleep, but wakes up fast after.
“Donna’s dead.”
And the bottom falls out of Mia’s world.
I'm going to get away from the crossovers file, or I'll be here all day. (There are at least two other Fast and the Furious/Sons of Anarchy stories in progress and four BtVS/F&tF.)
File Title: Say Hello to Your Friends, and Good-bye (Eight ways Dawn Schafer never said good-bye.) (Set during The Baby-Sitters Club #88 "Farewell Dawn")
Words: 700+
I love variations of "Fire Things" fic, and I love themed fic (which -- is basically why I love "Five Things" fic, I guess), and I really like the bits of this I have written.
Excerpt: IV. Mary Anne
Mary Anne sat on my bed. It was stripped of covers and the mattress looked strange, bare and a little broken, like it wasn’t quite right, it wasn’t quite whole without my bedding, without me.
Sunlight streamed through the blinds on my window, and made the beads, colored glass, and stones around her throat gleam. She fingered the necklace and smiled at me, but the corners of her mouth trembled and I could see tears fill her eyes.
Mary Anne is so sensitive. Commercials make her tear up, and her boyfriend, Logan, takes an entire box of tissues with them when they go to a sad movie. I should have expected her to cry when I gave her the necklace, my good-bye gift to her. Even though she had been acting like a royal bitch to me lately, I was glad we had made up and I would get to say good-bye to my real best friend and step-sister.
I sat on the bed next to her and put my arm across her shoulders.
“It’s okay, Mary Anne,” I said, and squeezed her into a hug. “Please don’t cry.”
That was a useless request and I knew it. The tears spilled over and slipped down her cheeks. I didn’t have any tissues left in my room, everything I owned was packed into boxes and either already shipped to California or stuck in the attic waiting for me to come back for a visit. (The attic boxes were mostly filled with winter clothes. I was glad to be rid of them, at least for my daily life. I was pretty sure I would never learn to like the cold weather.)
I wiped her cheek with my sleeve, which made her sputter a little with a cross between sobs and laughter.
Okay then, that was fun. What are you writing these days?