Assorted Comment-Fic Fills
Title: A Punch is Worth a Thousand Words
Fandom: Republic of Doyle
Characters: Jake Doyle + Malachy Doyle, Background Jake Doyle/Leslie Bennett
Word Count: 96
Date Posted: 04/12/17
Notes: For classics_lover's prompt: interview
"Jake-"
"Don't start, old man."
"This interview was very important. You know this. First positive press we've had in months, since before you stole the mayor's-"
"Extenuating circumstances."
"And after you ran over Constable O'Brien-"
"His foot! I ran over his foot! Not even the whole foot, b'y!"
"And you've got little ones on the way, twins, mind you, and we need new clients to pay for-"
"He asked me if my wife slept her way up the ranks. To cover both sides of the story."
"Ah."
"Yeah."
"Broke his nose, did ya?"
"Yep."
"Good boy."
Title: A Quick Dip
Fandom: Republic of Doyle
Characters: Jake Doyle/Leslie Bennett
Word Count: 56
Date Posted: 04/12/17
Notes: Written for withasmile87's prompt: skinny dipping.
"When a lady asks a man to go hunting with her, this is not what he usually, uh-"
Leslie, treading in the lake, looks down at where the water meets her naked shoulders and smirks.
"'Course," Jake continues, reaching for the buttons on his shirt, "Never let it be said I can't adapt to changing situations."
Title: Mission Accomplished. Ish.
Fandom: The Losers
Characters: Franklin Clay, Jake Jensen, Cougar Alvarez
Word Count: 359
Date Posted: 06/20/17
Notes: Written for vanillyfluffy's prompt: walking/running away with something exploding in the background.
"Time?" Clay asked as soon as Jensen cleared the wall to the compound, sliding over after letting his pack of stolen laptops drop into Cougar's waiting arms.
"Thirty seconds," Jensen answered as he got back to his feet and the team set off--walking unhurriedly to avoid attention from any guards on the wall. "It'll take out the main compound, but the blast shouldn't reach us from the south side."
"North," Clay corrected absent-mindedly. His earpiece crackled as Pooch and Aisha checked in, and he almost missed Jensen suddenly tensing at his side.
"South," Jensen said. "You mean south. You set the bomb on the south side of the estate."
Clay turned to look at him.
"Not on the north side," Jensen continued, "Where the gas tanks are buried."
"Umm," Clay said. He stared at Jensen. Jensen stared back. Cougar set his hat firmly on his head and sighed.
"Run, mensos!"
They ran. Broke cover and booked it for the forest, quickly drawing attention from the guards on the wall. Yells broke out behind them, then gunfire, shots peppering the ground around them.
One shot whistled by too closely, and Jensen yelped.
"Goddamnit, sir, I'm too pretty to die!"
Thirty seconds. Twenty to get them out of range. Add in the wall behind them and that should be enough, right? Maybe that would be--
It sounded like the roar of a plane engine--a godamn 747--shooting right at them. Blast bowled them aside like pins on a lane, ass over end over hard, thorny scrubland.
Clay landed a good five feet from where he'd stood, all his body weight on a wrist that didn't bend the right way when he stood, stumbled to the side, and took a moment.
Nearby, Jensen and Cougs picked themselves up, groaning; Cougar clutched the bag of laptops to his chest, and Jensen had a tight hold on Cougar's hat. Both bled freely from a dozen scrapes and cuts, and Cougar's nose looked broken. Behind them, where the compound had stood, was only a fireball.
"Well," Jensen said, "I did say it'd take out the compound."
Pooch and Aisha, wisely, said nothing when they rejoined them.
Title: First Steps
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Characters: Clint Barton, Phil Coulson
Word Count: 100
Date Posted: 06/21/17
Notes: Written for ami_ven's prompt: Clint isn't used to having people look after him
"Perdue looked at me when he was talking today," Clint says, barging into Phil's office without so much as a by-your-leave. "So I could lip read."
Phil looks up from his papers, eyebrow quirked.
"He never does that." Clint's loose, leaning up against the door frame with his bow in hand, a study in studied nonchalance. "Even after I asked."
"Oh," Phil says, and turns back to his work.
They eye each other carefully in their peripheral vision while pretending not to stare until Clint nods and casually straightens.
His "Thanks," as he leaves is low, but Phil hears it.
Title: Sick Day
Fandom: Lethal Weapon (TV)
Characters: Roger Murtaugh, Martin Riggs, Trish Murtaugh
Word Count: 100
Date Posted: 06/21/17
Notes: Written for brumeier's prompt: one whole day when Roger doesn’t lament having Riggs as his partner
Two blankets: the really hot, fuzzy one that RJ thinks he's too old for and a lighter, woven throw in case he gets hot; four pillows, because you can never have too many pillows; bowl of popcorn, bowl of soup, two bottles of gatorade, and hot water with lemon, for sustenance.
And a TV streaming March Madness in his direction all Monday long.
"It's too bad Martin gave you his cold," Trish says on her way out.
"Oh, yeah." Roger sniffles, giving her a pitiful look and sinking into his pillows. "Terrible."
Maybe he'll get the guy a fruit basket.
Title: Smoky Linings
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Characters: David Parrish/Evan Lorne
Word Count: 590
Date Posted: 06/26/17
Notes: Written for squidgiepdx's prompt: Evan Lorne/David Parrish, A big fire (or a fireman AU?)
He ignores the fire alarm at first--they all do. Damn thing goes off at least a couple times a month, whether it's Rodney with a with one of his experiments or Radek with a burned sandwich in the toaster.
So when David runs out of his office to see why nobody's turned it off and sees a giant wall of fire in the hallway, he's honestly surprised.
He stands stock still and stares, and the first thing that goes through his mind is, Damn, there goes my elaphoglossum peltatum.
Then, of course, his brain kicks in, and he bangs on Radek's door and yells, "Fire!" as loud as he can. He and Radek make lots of noise on their way to the exit, joined by a growing number of colleagues. David stumbles a few feet from the door, and several people sweep past him. He's picking himself up when he hears it--something scratching on a closed door nearby.
Damn it; Rodney must have brought John's dog in again. He locks it in his office when he goes to lunch. David jiggles the doorknob and, yep, no going. The fire's close now, the entire left side of the labs engulfed. David coughs and slams his shoulder into the door as the last of his colleagues makes it out. The door shudders, but doesn't give. Again, and again, and there's black smoke fogging up his glasses, and it's getting harder and harder to breathe.
And suddenly there's a solid, heavy bulk beside him, pushing him aside and slamming into the door. David catches sight of fireman's bright yellow--and there's a lot of really loud yelling--but his attention's diverted as the door finally pops open. A small ball of fur--Lady Hedy von Lovelace--blasts past him, rocketing out through the open door. David stumbles, but he doesn't fall; the fireman catches him and helps him out.
David doesn't realize how little air he'd been getting until he stumbles outside into the crisp October breeze. He doubles over, hacking, and the firefighter has to all but drag him over to an ambulance.
Ten minutes later, the fire's out, Lady Hedy von Lovelace is happily licking the face of a firefighter with dreadlocks, and David's trying to convince a very unconvinced-looking EMT that he doesn't need to get checked out at the hospital when someone sneaks up behind him and sets a hand on David's shoulder.
David jumps, turns, and stops himself from cursing in favor of wondering, hopefully, whether firefighters still do shirtless calendars.
"That was really brave of you," the man says with a blinding smile. "Saving the dog."
"Uh," David says.
"Sure you don't want to get checked out?" The firefighter asks. The dark-blue, skin-tight shirt brings out his eyes and accentuates his biceps to a ridiculous degree. Faint black ink from a tattoo peeks out from the edge of the man's right sleeve.
David kind of wants to lick it.
"I mean," the man continues, ,"The fire station's right next to the hospital, and I'm off shift in an hour."
"Okay," David's mouth spits out before his brain catches up. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Radek throw up his hands, curse, and hand John, who's come to check on Rodney on the dog, a twenty-dollar bill, but he honestly doesn't care how much he's going to get teased about his date next week. "Yes, that--okay."
It's a shame about the elaphoglossum peltatum, David thinks as the ambulance sets off, but maybe even smoke clouds have a silver lining.
Title: Heist
Fandom: Leverage
Characters: Parker/Eliot Spencer/Alec Hardison
Word Count: 336
Date Posted: 06/27/17
Notes: Written for classics_lover's prompt: Leverage, author's choice, sexy roleplaying
They have to rush--Alec drops a safety deposit box on his toes, and Eliot threatens to 'get him' no less than four times, especially when he sees just how flimsy the tear-apart velcro on his suit is, but they're both in place when Parker comes in: Alec's sitting at the desk they've moved to face the door, and Eliot's leaning against the kitchen door frame, doing his best impression of a very scowly wall of muscle.
Parker's humming when she comes in, wearing the rainbow-colored hair extensions she got for the Burning Man job and never retired. She's got Alec's sweater on, and she's wearing the braided leather bracelet she nicked off of Eliot on her left wrist. It's big on her, so it slides up and down her arm when she grabs her key from the lock and sets the bag of groceries on the floor just inside the door.
"What's going on?" she asks.
She's so perfect Alec can't help smiling--but a quick look from Eliot has him clearing his throat and straightening his tie. Right. He sits up in his chair and looks Parker up and down officiously.
"Good afternoon, ma'am," he says. "Welcome to the First Leverage Bank of Portland. I'm Alec, and this--" he points at Eliot, who squints--"Is our security guard Mr. Spencer. What can we do for you today?"
"We're on the lookout," Eliot pipes up, "For a very famous bank thief." He puts a hand up to his shirt and pulls, and the front of the security guard's uniform Alec found at the stripper supply shop comes off, revealing a very tight undershirt beneath it. "We really hope you don't find a way to distract us and make it into the vault."
He steps away from the doorway as Alec undoes his own tie; as the kitchen comes into view from the front door, so does the wide-open safe they've set on the table and filled with $10 bills.
Alec and Eliot share a nod.
Parker's pupils dilate.
Fandom: Republic of Doyle
Characters: Jake Doyle + Malachy Doyle, Background Jake Doyle/Leslie Bennett
Word Count: 96
Date Posted: 04/12/17
Notes: For classics_lover's prompt: interview
"Jake-"
"Don't start, old man."
"This interview was very important. You know this. First positive press we've had in months, since before you stole the mayor's-"
"Extenuating circumstances."
"And after you ran over Constable O'Brien-"
"His foot! I ran over his foot! Not even the whole foot, b'y!"
"And you've got little ones on the way, twins, mind you, and we need new clients to pay for-"
"He asked me if my wife slept her way up the ranks. To cover both sides of the story."
"Ah."
"Yeah."
"Broke his nose, did ya?"
"Yep."
"Good boy."
Title: A Quick Dip
Fandom: Republic of Doyle
Characters: Jake Doyle/Leslie Bennett
Word Count: 56
Date Posted: 04/12/17
Notes: Written for withasmile87's prompt: skinny dipping.
"When a lady asks a man to go hunting with her, this is not what he usually, uh-"
Leslie, treading in the lake, looks down at where the water meets her naked shoulders and smirks.
"'Course," Jake continues, reaching for the buttons on his shirt, "Never let it be said I can't adapt to changing situations."
Title: Mission Accomplished. Ish.
Fandom: The Losers
Characters: Franklin Clay, Jake Jensen, Cougar Alvarez
Word Count: 359
Date Posted: 06/20/17
Notes: Written for vanillyfluffy's prompt: walking/running away with something exploding in the background.
"Time?" Clay asked as soon as Jensen cleared the wall to the compound, sliding over after letting his pack of stolen laptops drop into Cougar's waiting arms.
"Thirty seconds," Jensen answered as he got back to his feet and the team set off--walking unhurriedly to avoid attention from any guards on the wall. "It'll take out the main compound, but the blast shouldn't reach us from the south side."
"North," Clay corrected absent-mindedly. His earpiece crackled as Pooch and Aisha checked in, and he almost missed Jensen suddenly tensing at his side.
"South," Jensen said. "You mean south. You set the bomb on the south side of the estate."
Clay turned to look at him.
"Not on the north side," Jensen continued, "Where the gas tanks are buried."
"Umm," Clay said. He stared at Jensen. Jensen stared back. Cougar set his hat firmly on his head and sighed.
"Run, mensos!"
They ran. Broke cover and booked it for the forest, quickly drawing attention from the guards on the wall. Yells broke out behind them, then gunfire, shots peppering the ground around them.
One shot whistled by too closely, and Jensen yelped.
"Goddamnit, sir, I'm too pretty to die!"
Thirty seconds. Twenty to get them out of range. Add in the wall behind them and that should be enough, right? Maybe that would be--
It sounded like the roar of a plane engine--a godamn 747--shooting right at them. Blast bowled them aside like pins on a lane, ass over end over hard, thorny scrubland.
Clay landed a good five feet from where he'd stood, all his body weight on a wrist that didn't bend the right way when he stood, stumbled to the side, and took a moment.
Nearby, Jensen and Cougs picked themselves up, groaning; Cougar clutched the bag of laptops to his chest, and Jensen had a tight hold on Cougar's hat. Both bled freely from a dozen scrapes and cuts, and Cougar's nose looked broken. Behind them, where the compound had stood, was only a fireball.
"Well," Jensen said, "I did say it'd take out the compound."
Pooch and Aisha, wisely, said nothing when they rejoined them.
Title: First Steps
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Characters: Clint Barton, Phil Coulson
Word Count: 100
Date Posted: 06/21/17
Notes: Written for ami_ven's prompt: Clint isn't used to having people look after him
"Perdue looked at me when he was talking today," Clint says, barging into Phil's office without so much as a by-your-leave. "So I could lip read."
Phil looks up from his papers, eyebrow quirked.
"He never does that." Clint's loose, leaning up against the door frame with his bow in hand, a study in studied nonchalance. "Even after I asked."
"Oh," Phil says, and turns back to his work.
They eye each other carefully in their peripheral vision while pretending not to stare until Clint nods and casually straightens.
His "Thanks," as he leaves is low, but Phil hears it.
Title: Sick Day
Fandom: Lethal Weapon (TV)
Characters: Roger Murtaugh, Martin Riggs, Trish Murtaugh
Word Count: 100
Date Posted: 06/21/17
Notes: Written for brumeier's prompt: one whole day when Roger doesn’t lament having Riggs as his partner
Two blankets: the really hot, fuzzy one that RJ thinks he's too old for and a lighter, woven throw in case he gets hot; four pillows, because you can never have too many pillows; bowl of popcorn, bowl of soup, two bottles of gatorade, and hot water with lemon, for sustenance.
And a TV streaming March Madness in his direction all Monday long.
"It's too bad Martin gave you his cold," Trish says on her way out.
"Oh, yeah." Roger sniffles, giving her a pitiful look and sinking into his pillows. "Terrible."
Maybe he'll get the guy a fruit basket.
Title: Smoky Linings
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Characters: David Parrish/Evan Lorne
Word Count: 590
Date Posted: 06/26/17
Notes: Written for squidgiepdx's prompt: Evan Lorne/David Parrish, A big fire (or a fireman AU?)
He ignores the fire alarm at first--they all do. Damn thing goes off at least a couple times a month, whether it's Rodney with a with one of his experiments or Radek with a burned sandwich in the toaster.
So when David runs out of his office to see why nobody's turned it off and sees a giant wall of fire in the hallway, he's honestly surprised.
He stands stock still and stares, and the first thing that goes through his mind is, Damn, there goes my elaphoglossum peltatum.
Then, of course, his brain kicks in, and he bangs on Radek's door and yells, "Fire!" as loud as he can. He and Radek make lots of noise on their way to the exit, joined by a growing number of colleagues. David stumbles a few feet from the door, and several people sweep past him. He's picking himself up when he hears it--something scratching on a closed door nearby.
Damn it; Rodney must have brought John's dog in again. He locks it in his office when he goes to lunch. David jiggles the doorknob and, yep, no going. The fire's close now, the entire left side of the labs engulfed. David coughs and slams his shoulder into the door as the last of his colleagues makes it out. The door shudders, but doesn't give. Again, and again, and there's black smoke fogging up his glasses, and it's getting harder and harder to breathe.
And suddenly there's a solid, heavy bulk beside him, pushing him aside and slamming into the door. David catches sight of fireman's bright yellow--and there's a lot of really loud yelling--but his attention's diverted as the door finally pops open. A small ball of fur--Lady Hedy von Lovelace--blasts past him, rocketing out through the open door. David stumbles, but he doesn't fall; the fireman catches him and helps him out.
David doesn't realize how little air he'd been getting until he stumbles outside into the crisp October breeze. He doubles over, hacking, and the firefighter has to all but drag him over to an ambulance.
Ten minutes later, the fire's out, Lady Hedy von Lovelace is happily licking the face of a firefighter with dreadlocks, and David's trying to convince a very unconvinced-looking EMT that he doesn't need to get checked out at the hospital when someone sneaks up behind him and sets a hand on David's shoulder.
David jumps, turns, and stops himself from cursing in favor of wondering, hopefully, whether firefighters still do shirtless calendars.
"That was really brave of you," the man says with a blinding smile. "Saving the dog."
"Uh," David says.
"Sure you don't want to get checked out?" The firefighter asks. The dark-blue, skin-tight shirt brings out his eyes and accentuates his biceps to a ridiculous degree. Faint black ink from a tattoo peeks out from the edge of the man's right sleeve.
David kind of wants to lick it.
"I mean," the man continues, ,"The fire station's right next to the hospital, and I'm off shift in an hour."
"Okay," David's mouth spits out before his brain catches up. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Radek throw up his hands, curse, and hand John, who's come to check on Rodney on the dog, a twenty-dollar bill, but he honestly doesn't care how much he's going to get teased about his date next week. "Yes, that--okay."
It's a shame about the elaphoglossum peltatum, David thinks as the ambulance sets off, but maybe even smoke clouds have a silver lining.
Title: Heist
Fandom: Leverage
Characters: Parker/Eliot Spencer/Alec Hardison
Word Count: 336
Date Posted: 06/27/17
Notes: Written for classics_lover's prompt: Leverage, author's choice, sexy roleplaying
They have to rush--Alec drops a safety deposit box on his toes, and Eliot threatens to 'get him' no less than four times, especially when he sees just how flimsy the tear-apart velcro on his suit is, but they're both in place when Parker comes in: Alec's sitting at the desk they've moved to face the door, and Eliot's leaning against the kitchen door frame, doing his best impression of a very scowly wall of muscle.
Parker's humming when she comes in, wearing the rainbow-colored hair extensions she got for the Burning Man job and never retired. She's got Alec's sweater on, and she's wearing the braided leather bracelet she nicked off of Eliot on her left wrist. It's big on her, so it slides up and down her arm when she grabs her key from the lock and sets the bag of groceries on the floor just inside the door.
"What's going on?" she asks.
She's so perfect Alec can't help smiling--but a quick look from Eliot has him clearing his throat and straightening his tie. Right. He sits up in his chair and looks Parker up and down officiously.
"Good afternoon, ma'am," he says. "Welcome to the First Leverage Bank of Portland. I'm Alec, and this--" he points at Eliot, who squints--"Is our security guard Mr. Spencer. What can we do for you today?"
"We're on the lookout," Eliot pipes up, "For a very famous bank thief." He puts a hand up to his shirt and pulls, and the front of the security guard's uniform Alec found at the stripper supply shop comes off, revealing a very tight undershirt beneath it. "We really hope you don't find a way to distract us and make it into the vault."
He steps away from the doorway as Alec undoes his own tie; as the kitchen comes into view from the front door, so does the wide-open safe they've set on the table and filled with $10 bills.
Alec and Eliot share a nod.
Parker's pupils dilate.