The super late Christmas present ficlets post of doom (part 1)
Ok, guys, I finally got everything done! :falls over: I know this is ridiculously late and I appreciate your patience (and hope that it isn't just apathy...). Ficlets are posted by user in the order they were received. The cut tag has the prompt and the rating.
So, without further ado... Enjoy!
notscarysteve
Dollhouse/Angel, Echo!Faith/Topher, Creating/Imprinting Faith persona:
It’s a delicate balance, a really excessively delicate balance, to make her badass and quirky enough without ever quite tripping over into serial killer, and god knows there’s enough personality traits that could bleed into that; it’s not as easy as you think, tweaking personalities into something cohesive enough to stick and stand up for a whole Engagement. The fact that he’s laying this down on Echo is both made of win and utterly terrifying, given her recent… proclivities.
Still, Topher has to admit - making a vampire hunter has got to be the hottest thing he’s ever done.
~~~
Echo glides in, serene as ever, even offering him her lollipop. Topher’s starting to suspect that maybe she knows what Treatments are, what they can do for her stolen mental repertoire.
…He maybe shouldn’t be surprised that she -Faith, that is- punches him before she leaves…
luc_darling:
White Collar/Wolverine, Neal Caffrey/Gambit, no-limits poker:
They may or may not see each other when the competition begins, but anybody who knows anything about anyone isn’t much surprised when they end up playing cards at the same table; the ones who don’t know enough are holding their breath, like they think maybe these two rivals have more than cash on the line and really, anything could happen. It’s not too far from the truth -they’ve each got their reasons to buy in to this set of games- but really what it comes down to for them, right here, right now is their reputation.
They both smile, charming, dangerous, cos times like this, it’s all in and the house doesn’t know what’s coming…
Angel/Inception, Lindsey McDonald/Arthur, “Fidelity is the sister of justice.”:
Arthur raises a skeptical eyebrow at the lawyer, but gives nothing else away; he’s been in this business far too long to be stupid enough to rise to the bait.
“We need the exact manuscript, no matter how bizarre you think-”
“I’ve explained the process and limitations to you, Mr. McDonald; if you have any doubts as to my professionalism perhaps you should consider alternate avenues of acquisition.”
Firefly/Doctor Who, Zoe+10, endless possibilities:
“The possibilities are positively endless; I could take you to plenty of places, show you things your generation forgot when they spread out so far from, how is it you say it, Earth that was,” the man says, bouncing on his toes, fluid and buoyant and reminding her almost completely of… Zoe looks away, her chest clenching on account of no possibility was endless, and no happiness either; the man seems to become serious, looking at her sideways and sad. “If it’s any consolation, he loved the moons of Tch’ch Kalee.”
Leverage, Eliot, “When liberty comes with hands dabbled in blood it is hard to shake hands with her.”:
They’ve always known he’s killed, if they thought about it long enough, and the revelation of what he might have done for Moreau (no matter how their innocent imaginations would never touch on the truth) confirmed that for them and gave it context beyond self defense; they’ve always known he was in the military, in one way or another, and San Lorenzo confirmed that for them to, layering a hero under the murderer.
Funny how it never occurred to any of them (except maybe Nate, the crazy sonuvabitch, fucker always knows too much) that the two might be connected.
That sometimes, the only difference between Uncle Sam and men like Moreau is that we’re right and this brings democracy and all the other party line bullshit; but you’re still killing women, still watching children die, still tearing people apart…
Justified/Castle, Raylan Givens+Alexis Castle, he taught her well:
Raylan’s only ever met the man once -and hell, he could see why the lady detective was alternately annoyed as shit or enamored of him- but he was smart on his feet and damn near fearless. He was a smooth talker too, a trait Raylan wouldn’t have pegged on young Miss Castle to start with, but which was obviously inherited; a point for which Raylan is mighty grateful just now, seeing as he’s unarmed.
Raylan lets her lead the conversation and doesn’t impede upon it til he gets her cue, and everyone is a whole lot less dead for it.
Leverage/Alice/Inception, Alice!Parker, dreaming to explore:
Parker doesn’t dream -she never has- so when Archie makes the introduction to Cobb and his weird crew of dream thieves, she hesitates; apparently Archie pushes for her, and that Arthur guy with the pretty suits vets her, and before she knows it she’s having a sit down with them to take a trial run with the equipment. It’s not that she hasn’t heard the rumors, just that she’s never understood the attraction (just another way she was wrong, broken).
What she finds inside her own head… it’s like a story book, like Wonderland, weird and inside out and changeable in ways the real world isn’t, and it works, so she takes to it like a fish to water and doesn’t look back.
elebridith:
RPS Waiter!AU, Chris/Steve, mistletoe:
Steve’s not sure what to do with himself, mostly, seeing as this isn’t “just a Christmas party,” no matter what Christian says; there’s cast and crew of Leverage, and people they’ve brought (like Hutton’s friends, or Devlin’s friends), so that Steve is rubbing shoulders with some that may or may not be referred to as Hollywood Elite and he doesn’t even know if Christian is even out to any of these people and…
“Hey,” Christian says, grinning like something’s funny before he cups Steve’s face and kisses him thoroughly enough to leave no doubt -and earning a few cheers while someone, probably Beth, snaps a picture- before pulling back and nodding his head up and adding, “mistletoe.” Steve can’t help blushing and just shakes his head and laughs.
Losers/Leverage, Cougar/Eliot or Cougar + Eliot, guns:
Cougar don’t say much (the man never did) but he raises an eyebrow and there’s no question that what he’s askin’ me is They don’t know?
“Course they don’t,” I growl, and I know he can read me way too easy, the way I look away, how tense my voice is, how tight my shoulders get, “‘cept for Nate.” None of them need to know, not what I did for Moreau, and not what I did for the Army; that shit can stay between me and Coug, one (kinda sorta ex-) sniper to another.
Leverage, Eliot/Hardison, watching "The Losers":
“Seriously, man, seriously, you’re gonna tell me a tiny slip of a woman like Zoe Saldana could life a real rocket launcher and not fall off the damn building when she uses it?” Hardison says, sounding angry but obviously loving every second of the movie.
“Actually,” Eliot says before he can stop himself, “she’s using an M135 AT4, which only weighs about fifteen pounds, was developed specifically as a lightweight multi-purpose launcher with nearly zero recoil so it can be operated in an urban environment; y’can tell on account of the balancing propellant gas in the back… what?”
Hardison just grins, and shakes his head, and maybe mutters something about damn sexy under his breath.
Alice/Leverage, Eliot/Hatter, mistletoe:
Eliot blinks as he walks in, not so much because Hatter’s in his apartment waiting for him, or even because Hatter’s not wearing anything besides that cockeyed hat of his, oh no. “Do I even wanna ask why y’covered my ceilin’ with mistletoe?”
Hatter’s smirk and the languid way he stretches out over the couch is answer enough.
Dresden Files/Leverage, Harry/Eliot or Harry + Eliot, "Have we met before?":
“Er,” the tall guy says, his shoulders shrugging under the heavy trench coat and his posture changing just enough that Eliot’s pretty sure the next thing out of his mouth is going to be a lie, “no?”
Eliot crosses his arms and growls out, “Right, sure, do we have a problem?”
“Not unless you can raise the dead, make frogs rain from the sky or wither half a state’s crops on command,” the guy says, holding up both hands and backing away; Eliot wishes the fact that none of that made any sense was comforting, or that it reminded him less of their mark…
Dresden Files Elsewhere Verse, Chris/Steve, a few stolen peaceful minutes:
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, this is insane,” Chris says, hot on Steve’s heels and slamming the door behind them, doing both the locks and spinning the doohickey that Mr. What-the-fuck-ever-his-name-is-wizard to activate the wards; for a second that they just stand there, not sure what to do with themselves now that the people under the hex (heightened desires, and Jesus, who knew so many chicks felt that way about them) were at least temporarily held at bay.
And then Steve just huffs out a laugh, shaking his head, and pulls Chris with him toward the couch.
Dresden Files/Wolverine, Harry + Remy, about staffs:
“You tellin’ me dat it ain’ jus’ a stick?” the Cajun says, sounding amused (and smirking about it no less).
“Yours is just a stick,” I say, agitated because I really haven’t got time to not-explain magic to a mutant that damn well ought to know better already, “but I’m not about to prove it to you buddy.”
Then again, I’ve been wrong before, very, very wrong, and the pendant around my neck has just gone ice cold.
sgfansean:
Justified, Raylan/OFC, the scars that just won't heal:
He ain’t thinkin’ about how she has blond hair, as a matter of fact, he isn’t much thinkin’ at all just now, buried deep and thrusting and her rising up hot and needy to meet him; when they’re finally satisfied (which is to say, dawn’s tickling at the edges of the sky) she lies beside him like a cat, fingers tripping over his scars with questions now instead of lust.
“I should go,” Raylan says, already getting up and putting on clothes, already one foot out the door. Seems like no matter where he ends up, his ghosts are always with him, but then, he never was willin’ to leave’m be.
Supernatural, Sam + Castiel, Why don't you like me like you like Dean?:
Castiel blinks, pausing for a moment in hopes that Sam will continue long enough to enlighten him; unfortunately the young man just stares at him, wide eyed in what Castiel is sure is the expression Dean referred to as the ‘lost puppy look.’ “I don’t understand what you mean by that question,” he says at last, but it is apparently the wrong thing to say because Sam looks more pathetic. “Is this why your brother says not to leave you alone with Jim, Jack and Jose?”
Leverage, Hardison/Eliot, What part of "I'm gonna kick your ass” don't you understand, geek boy?:
“Oh, so now I’m the geek boy, now I’m kickin’ yo ass back to hicksville?” Hardison asks, just before he whoop-whoops to the tune of the buttons on his remote being mashed, and then Eliot’s character is dead, which is ridiculous because clearly Eliot’s character had the superior skill set.
“Can’t we go back to the other one?” Eliot mutters, cos at least in that one the odds were more even and the game mechanics more realistic; Hardison narrows his eyes suspiciously, though, already opening his mouth to argue about winning. “I’ll make it worth your while…”
Castle, Castle/Beckett, author’s choice
Rick opens his mouth but Beckett just holds up a finger and clicks her tongue at him, he closes his mouth and pouts at her like the best of them.
“Ok, I think I missed somethin’ good,” Esposito says as he comes in, holding out a file for Beckett to take.
“Yeah you did,” Ryan says, smirking and giving him a small wad of cash, “but I gotcha covered; our boy here totally lost a bet.”
Supernatural, Grandpa Winchester/Dean, tell me more about my mom:
He asks because it’s a long ass steak out, and sure, he doesn’t trust Samuel, not really, but he can’t help himself, in some ways Dean supposes he never could; Samuel looks over for a second, annoyed and surprised for just a moment before his eyes flick back to what they’re watching, and Dean thinks he isn’t going to answer.
“What do you want me to tell you, her favorite color, or her favorite weapon for killing skinwalkers or something?” Samuel says at last, before muttering something that might be none of it means a damn thing anyway.
“Yeah, it’d be a start.”
Supernatural, Robo!Sam/OFC(Hooker), You think that's exercise? I'll show you exercise!:
“Well aren’t you the athletic one,” the bitch says as she leans down, one hand braced on the roof of Sam’s Mustang so she can show off as much cleavage as possible; really that’s what gives him the idea to begin with, and once he flashes the fistful of cash Baby Jane (or whatever the hell her real name is) is too wide eyed with greed to stop and think about if it’s a good idea.
Really, you can’t blame Sam for the fact that Baby Jane didn’t realize that at the end of the story Pheidippides dies to report the victory at Marathon; there’s a part of his mind that wonders if Dean would be proud because it breaks some kind of record or something, but he shrugs it off.
He’s too busy finishing himself off before she finally takes her last breath, her body jerking under him in the last gasp of pain and ecstasy after twenty hours of very, very athletic, very brutal sex; although he supposes at least now he doesn’t have to pay her…
RPS/Kane, Chris/Steve, first Christmas together:
Maybe there’s no snow, but there’s a Christmas tree and there’s egg nog and presents, and sitting a little too close on the couch, which isn’t really close enough. Chris may or may not make a bad joke about unwrapping his favorite present, but Steve laughs anyway and kisses him, starts peeling their clothes away and presses skin to hot skin before he presses inside, leaving marks in Christian’s skin with nips along his shoulder; somehow they end up on the floor under the tree, writhing and obscene, until at last they come.
“Merry Christmas,” Steve murmurs, laughing as he stands, pulling Chris up after him.
dramaturgca:
White Collar/X-Men, Neal, my superpower:
When people talk about superpowers, they always thing of the flashy abilities: invisibility, flying, fire or speed; they underestimate without fail the subtlest of powers, perhaps, but by far the most powerful if ever given to the wrong people. A lot of charm and a little luck can give you wealth, art, women… even friends.
Neal smiles his dazzling smile, his thumb brushing lightly over his mark’s knuckles, and doesn’t think about the things that can’t be stolen.
Castle, Alexis + Castle, father and daughter weekly night out:
It used to be every Friday night - dinner out at her favorite pizza place, ice cream from the parlor a few doors down from that, and two movies (even though she always fell asleep part way through the second one). Now he’s lucky if they get one movie, and the night starts later than it used to because she has so much more studying to do, and it’s never on the same night in a row.
But it’s still every week without fail, and there’s still that moment where she looks at him with shining eyes like he’s a hero, so until she’s got to go, until she’s really got to go, he’s gonna take every second he can get.
Castle/X-Men, Professor X + Castle, Prof. X is a fan:
Beckett tries not to smirk to hard when Rick shakes the Professor’s hand enthusiastically, his usual sense of boyish glee out in full force only to devolve exactly on time when Rick suddenly obviously remembers that Xavier is psychic, as in the most powerful psychic, and Becket would hazard to guess that really, right now, he’s blushing so hard in the effort to just stop thinking, which clearly only makes it worse.
Professor Xavier chuckles, pleasantly amused, and says, “You have nothing to worry about, Mr. Castle, I assure you, I am a fan of your work, and am well aware of what that means for all your thought processes.”
Beckett wonders if she should be worried about the way Rick’s eyes dart toward her, but decides to let it go; it’s just not fair to hold a psychic’s commentary against him.
Doctor Who/BSG, Kara Thrace + 10 or 11, Kara didn’t die, she became a Companion:
She knew her time would be up, standing in that field with Lee -she always had, just like she always had wanted spoilers to movies and skipped ahead in books, she had no patience- but that didn’t mean she’d be ready, not to say goodbye, not to Lee. She isn’t surprised when the grass and the breeze and the sunshine is gone, and instead she’s inside the TARDIS again.
“You’ve done what you needed to?” the Doctor asks, though he doesn’t seem to expect her to be willing to answer.
Leverage/White Collar, Peter + Nate, on chasing Neal Caffrey:
It’s no surprise they end up facing each other at the bar, one disheveled and the other out of breath, instead of finding the man they’ve both been chasing for much longer than either would care to admit to, even privately, and if either of them shout an expletive or three or make faces like they’re going to punch someone, well, the hotel staff isn’t going to tell.
“Neal Caffrey,” Burke growls out with every inch of pent up anger (and no small amount of disappointment) boiling in his veins.
Ford just nods, and orders them both a drink.
White Collar/Burn Notice, Elizabeth + Fiona Glenanne, Fiona to El “How do you do it?”:
El’s not sure how to take that question, or how earnestly Fiona is asking it, like El holds the secret to everything; thankfully Fi must realize how left field the question is from the look on her face.
“How do you put up with, with them being so sucked into their work, like you don’t even matter?” Fi demands, obviously very put out, and gestures to where Peter, Neal and Mike are talking.
“Oh, honey,” El says, putting a hand on Fiona’s arm, “it isn’t that they don’t care, or that they don’t love us; they just have a different way of dealing with it which sometimes involves us needing to get them under control sometimes.”
BSG/Burn Notice, Lee + Michael, drinks and talking about their women:
Michael just shakes his head as he watches the women laughing at a table in the corner, knowing just from the gun motions Fi’s making with her hands which story it is she’s telling; he doesn’t miss the way the pilot he’s pretty sure is the commander’s son looks at them too, resigned and longing and annoyed all at once. He orders another round of Ambrosia for the both of them, which earns him a questioning look; he nods towards the women and says, “If yours is anything like mine, the two of them together… we’re both gonna need it.”
Adama laughs and raises his glass, saying, “So say we all.”
earthquakedream:
White Collar/Supernatural, Neal/Sam, the greatest con:
Note: Pretend Appointment in Samarra never happened.
Neal frowns at the wall in lieu of frowning at the man sitting on the bench catty-corner from him; he owed the man’s father for that brief thing in Berlin that had been the real reason Alex was hurt after Copenhagen, but this was… complicated in ways Neal was in no way accustomed to dealing with.
“My brother’s gonna start wondering where I am, so I need to know - can you do it or not?”
Neal waits a beat, and smiles, saying, “You get me that fiddle, Sam, and I’ll steal your soul back.”
Leverage, Parker/Eliot/Hardison, trimming the tree:
Eliot would be pissed when he sees his door is slightly ajar, but he can already hear Hardison laughing (very distinctively happy laughing, not stalling laughing) so really he’s mostly just pleased that he can just walk in; although really he should have thought about it a little more, because he’d gone to pull some of his ornaments from storage (what, a guy like him can’t feel a little holiday spirit?) with the intention of having a modest, nostalgic little tree - a tree, he might add, which he had yet to pick out.
Walking in, he sees Parker hanging from the ceiling (he doesn’t want to think about how) and slowly circuiting a tree just out from the far corner with tinsel that he’s pretty sure she made herself (he’s expecting something expensive, and isn’t disappointed when he finally gets closer - folded money to make a paper chain), the lights already in place (with four different settings, Hardison will boast later, when it’s dark) and for a moment Eliot’s worried they’re going to do the whole tree for him thinking he wouldn’t; as it turns out they didn’t bring much more than that, kinda creeping him out a little when they go out of the way to actually, really, literally only help him put his on the tree.
He doesn’t tell them later, with Parker’s head in his lap and Hardison’s head drifting toward his shoulder and the room awash in soft multi-colored light, that really it’s the most it’s felt like Christmas in years.
Losers, Jensen/Clay (or Jensen&Clay), far from home:
It’s not like the kid to be so quiet -or so far from his computer, for that matter- but he takes the beer Clay hands him and doesn’t move when Clay sits so close to him; they both just look out over the desert and rubble and for a long moment no one says anything.
“You ever miss it, miss home?” Jensen says, sounding more serious than in the whole time Clay’s known him (including more than one near-death experience) and maybe a little lost; Clay claps a hand on his shoulder and Jensen looks up, eyes asking for something Clay can’t put together.
“Yeah,” he says, after a moment -what else is there to say- and nods, “yeah I do.”
Supernatural, Sam/Dean, ugly gnomes:
“…You’ve gotta be shitting me!” Dean says (just says, dammit, he doesn’t squeak, squeal, scream or anything else un-fucking-manly like that) and backs up into Sam, pushing them both backward and off the lawn onto the front stairs of the house.
“Dean,” Sam says, frowning but unafraid, like his soulless little brain can’t make sense of anything, “are those the garden gnomes coming to life? They look… uglier.”
RPS/White Collar, Neal/Jensen, hostage:
“You think…” Neal pauses to laugh, putting on his most dazzling and amused expression despite the guns in their faces and stepping in front of the dashingly attractive man that may or may not be the Jensen Ackles the woman seems to think he is, “that he’s the famous one? Oh sweetheart no, no no, he’s my butler.”
It’s a risky move, Neal knows, but he also knows that of the two of them, the FBI (and Peter) will find him faster…
RPS/Losers, Jensen + Jensen + Jared, "well, ain't this awkward":
Hiding in Canada is a first for them, but Jensen figures it’s pretty a-okay with him (especially when he takes into account the way everyone seems to confuse Clay with an actor he’s never even heard of and the team gets to watch him try to lose fangirls that are more dogged than any of the best assassins); he pushes his way through the whole in the wall bar that’s blissfully tame and into a back room he’d figured for the toilet… except… for the two tall guys that were either about to pull out a blunt or their cocks and doesn’t he know those faces…
Roque pushes hard against his back, obviously having come to the same conclusions, and before Jensen can process enough to even begin to deflect, the man blurts out, “Hey isn’t that the two dudes you do that, what’s that shit you say is art called, manips or some shit like that?”
Jensen would kick him in the balls if he thought he’d get away with it, so instead he settles for banging his head into the door frame a couple times and going to find Cougar and some tequila.
Leverage/White Collar, Parker & Peter, best escape routes:
“Definitely this way,” Parker says, tracing her finger along the layout without really looking at it (and with an annoying amount of accuracy at that), “cos it’s the most easily accessible from almost any point on the floor, and you can go up, down, or to the alley.”
Peter raises his eyebrows, trying not to say you’re crazier than Neal when he does say, “Up or down… as in the roof or the basement?”
“The roof -you can rappel down or get to the next building,” she pulls down another paper showing a top down street view for just a moment before flipping both pages up to reveal a third, “and the sewers.”
honeyjojames:
Goth!Boys, Chris/Steve, perfect night in:
“Nothin’ like a good zombie movie,” Chris murmurs, tilting his head enough to nuzzle Steven’s stomach and give Steve room to stroke his hair; they’re sprawled out on the floor in a pile of pillows and blankets, the couch pushed back and the coffee table moved just far enough to the side to be out of the way but still in reach. They’ve got beer and finger foods (all prepped earlier so they wouldn’t have to get up) and a small queue of movies so there’s no reason to move until they’re ready to head to the bedroom (though to be fair, Chris has a few ideas for staying right where they are).
“Mmmm, though we should’ve gotten another Romero one,” Steve says, and Christian can’t help but be pleased with how content he sounds.
Goth!Boys, Chris/Steve, a particularly extra sensitive tattoo:
“Pauley warned you,” Steven says evenly, somehow managing to hide his amusement and not poke at Christian’s thigh just to rile him up a little; it’d serve him right for being so secretive about the whole thing (to the point he wouldn’t even show Steve the sketch), and having designed a tattoo to fit so far up on his inner thigh where he’s already so sensitive.
“Yeah, well,” Chris mutters, all but pouting as he crosses his arms and sinks lower onto the couch (and winces before adjusting his leg), “I’m runnin’ outta space, alright, and it ain’t like it’s, y’know, for… y’know, everybody.”
“It’s not, huh?” Steven murmurs, leaning over to kiss him thoroughly enough to forget about the tattoo for now.
Goth!Boys, Chris/Steve, their first Christmas together:
Mrs. Kane obviously expects the phone call at five in the morning, her son giddy as a school boy and babbling on about who got him what and the latest hijinks are from the holiday party at the Carlson’s, but Steve has to laugh at the way Christian has to stop and explain that they’ve been up all night and not just waking up, if only for the way his brow furrows because he’s not quite sober yet. Eventually Steven pries him away from the phone (it may or may not have involved threatening to spank him with the poor woman still on the line and a swift slap to the ass, cos he understands missing his family, but seriously) and drags him off to bed where they may or may not make the day merry and bright through the inappropriate use of tinsel.
And now there’s nothing to do, and no one to see, and the day is theirs, and if they spend it mostly sleeping (or in bed, anyway), well, Steve’s certainly not going to complain.
Waiter!AU, Chris/Steve, finding the perfect gift:
Steve’s pretty sure that this isn’t the way it’s supposed to work, that this really ought to be the other way around because honestly, shouldn’t he be more nervous than Christian when it comes to shopping for presents?
“Don’t gimme that look Steve, ain’t like I got a clue about where to start for this and what if I pick out something she doesn’t like, what if I pick something she thinks is awful and, fuck it just, fuck I haven’t got even the smallest, not even a little, I just… what should…”
“Breathe, Christian,” Steve says, trying not to laugh as he pulls the catalogs and laptop away, “my mom’s gonna love you, okay?”
Rescue 77/Love Song, Billy/Wick, early morning:
“Time is it?” Billy murmurs almost inaudibly, curling into Wick at tightening the arm around Wick’s waist, his face pressed firmly between Wick’s jaw line and the pillow to avoid any chance of stray sunlight.
“Early,” Wick says, which is an understatement really, considering the sun isn’t even up, and if it weren’t for the stupidly long shift he’d just had at work he’d probably be out cold; as it is, he’s just pleased to tangle himself up with Billy, fingers trailing along his shoulder. “Go back to sleep…”
Rescue 77/Love Song, Billy/Wick, Happy New Year:
“To the year that’s done,” Mike says, glass raised, right before Ryan follows with, “you sucked and we’re glad to see you go.”
Wick laughs and shakes his head, a point which Billy more feels than hears because the engine crew is being rowdy in the long (alcohol free) small hours, and says, “To next year, when it’ll just get better!”
Billy grins, feeling a warmth that has nothing to do with the perpetual (and damn near unseasonal) LA heat and knowing without question that Wick ain’t wrong.
Kane RPS, Chris/Steve, first day off after months on the road:
There should probably moving (really, there should definitely be moving, and food, and saying hi to friends and family and sticking toes in sand and sticking other body parts in much more interesting places though possibly still at the beach) bit it just ain’t gonna happen. Fuck, they’re lucky they made it to the couch before all the adrenaline from traveling and the sense of home and fuckitallrelaxnow kicked in.
Steve manages to adjust himself (it’s more of a little wiggle and slumping) so that his head is resting on Kane’s stomach and sighs, content enough to sleep.
So, without further ado... Enjoy!
notscarysteve
Dollhouse/Angel, Echo!Faith/Topher, Creating/Imprinting Faith persona:
It’s a delicate balance, a really excessively delicate balance, to make her badass and quirky enough without ever quite tripping over into serial killer, and god knows there’s enough personality traits that could bleed into that; it’s not as easy as you think, tweaking personalities into something cohesive enough to stick and stand up for a whole Engagement. The fact that he’s laying this down on Echo is both made of win and utterly terrifying, given her recent… proclivities.
Still, Topher has to admit - making a vampire hunter has got to be the hottest thing he’s ever done.
~~~
Echo glides in, serene as ever, even offering him her lollipop. Topher’s starting to suspect that maybe she knows what Treatments are, what they can do for her stolen mental repertoire.
…He maybe shouldn’t be surprised that she -Faith, that is- punches him before she leaves…
luc_darling:
White Collar/Wolverine, Neal Caffrey/Gambit, no-limits poker:
They may or may not see each other when the competition begins, but anybody who knows anything about anyone isn’t much surprised when they end up playing cards at the same table; the ones who don’t know enough are holding their breath, like they think maybe these two rivals have more than cash on the line and really, anything could happen. It’s not too far from the truth -they’ve each got their reasons to buy in to this set of games- but really what it comes down to for them, right here, right now is their reputation.
They both smile, charming, dangerous, cos times like this, it’s all in and the house doesn’t know what’s coming…
Angel/Inception, Lindsey McDonald/Arthur, “Fidelity is the sister of justice.”:
Arthur raises a skeptical eyebrow at the lawyer, but gives nothing else away; he’s been in this business far too long to be stupid enough to rise to the bait.
“We need the exact manuscript, no matter how bizarre you think-”
“I’ve explained the process and limitations to you, Mr. McDonald; if you have any doubts as to my professionalism perhaps you should consider alternate avenues of acquisition.”
Firefly/Doctor Who, Zoe+10, endless possibilities:
“The possibilities are positively endless; I could take you to plenty of places, show you things your generation forgot when they spread out so far from, how is it you say it, Earth that was,” the man says, bouncing on his toes, fluid and buoyant and reminding her almost completely of… Zoe looks away, her chest clenching on account of no possibility was endless, and no happiness either; the man seems to become serious, looking at her sideways and sad. “If it’s any consolation, he loved the moons of Tch’ch Kalee.”
Leverage, Eliot, “When liberty comes with hands dabbled in blood it is hard to shake hands with her.”:
They’ve always known he’s killed, if they thought about it long enough, and the revelation of what he might have done for Moreau (no matter how their innocent imaginations would never touch on the truth) confirmed that for them and gave it context beyond self defense; they’ve always known he was in the military, in one way or another, and San Lorenzo confirmed that for them to, layering a hero under the murderer.
Funny how it never occurred to any of them (except maybe Nate, the crazy sonuvabitch, fucker always knows too much) that the two might be connected.
That sometimes, the only difference between Uncle Sam and men like Moreau is that we’re right and this brings democracy and all the other party line bullshit; but you’re still killing women, still watching children die, still tearing people apart…
Justified/Castle, Raylan Givens+Alexis Castle, he taught her well:
Raylan’s only ever met the man once -and hell, he could see why the lady detective was alternately annoyed as shit or enamored of him- but he was smart on his feet and damn near fearless. He was a smooth talker too, a trait Raylan wouldn’t have pegged on young Miss Castle to start with, but which was obviously inherited; a point for which Raylan is mighty grateful just now, seeing as he’s unarmed.
Raylan lets her lead the conversation and doesn’t impede upon it til he gets her cue, and everyone is a whole lot less dead for it.
Leverage/Alice/Inception, Alice!Parker, dreaming to explore:
Parker doesn’t dream -she never has- so when Archie makes the introduction to Cobb and his weird crew of dream thieves, she hesitates; apparently Archie pushes for her, and that Arthur guy with the pretty suits vets her, and before she knows it she’s having a sit down with them to take a trial run with the equipment. It’s not that she hasn’t heard the rumors, just that she’s never understood the attraction (just another way she was wrong, broken).
What she finds inside her own head… it’s like a story book, like Wonderland, weird and inside out and changeable in ways the real world isn’t, and it works, so she takes to it like a fish to water and doesn’t look back.
elebridith:
RPS Waiter!AU, Chris/Steve, mistletoe:
Steve’s not sure what to do with himself, mostly, seeing as this isn’t “just a Christmas party,” no matter what Christian says; there’s cast and crew of Leverage, and people they’ve brought (like Hutton’s friends, or Devlin’s friends), so that Steve is rubbing shoulders with some that may or may not be referred to as Hollywood Elite and he doesn’t even know if Christian is even out to any of these people and…
“Hey,” Christian says, grinning like something’s funny before he cups Steve’s face and kisses him thoroughly enough to leave no doubt -and earning a few cheers while someone, probably Beth, snaps a picture- before pulling back and nodding his head up and adding, “mistletoe.” Steve can’t help blushing and just shakes his head and laughs.
Losers/Leverage, Cougar/Eliot or Cougar + Eliot, guns:
Cougar don’t say much (the man never did) but he raises an eyebrow and there’s no question that what he’s askin’ me is They don’t know?
“Course they don’t,” I growl, and I know he can read me way too easy, the way I look away, how tense my voice is, how tight my shoulders get, “‘cept for Nate.” None of them need to know, not what I did for Moreau, and not what I did for the Army; that shit can stay between me and Coug, one (kinda sorta ex-) sniper to another.
Leverage, Eliot/Hardison, watching "The Losers":
“Seriously, man, seriously, you’re gonna tell me a tiny slip of a woman like Zoe Saldana could life a real rocket launcher and not fall off the damn building when she uses it?” Hardison says, sounding angry but obviously loving every second of the movie.
“Actually,” Eliot says before he can stop himself, “she’s using an M135 AT4, which only weighs about fifteen pounds, was developed specifically as a lightweight multi-purpose launcher with nearly zero recoil so it can be operated in an urban environment; y’can tell on account of the balancing propellant gas in the back… what?”
Hardison just grins, and shakes his head, and maybe mutters something about damn sexy under his breath.
Alice/Leverage, Eliot/Hatter, mistletoe:
Eliot blinks as he walks in, not so much because Hatter’s in his apartment waiting for him, or even because Hatter’s not wearing anything besides that cockeyed hat of his, oh no. “Do I even wanna ask why y’covered my ceilin’ with mistletoe?”
Hatter’s smirk and the languid way he stretches out over the couch is answer enough.
Dresden Files/Leverage, Harry/Eliot or Harry + Eliot, "Have we met before?":
“Er,” the tall guy says, his shoulders shrugging under the heavy trench coat and his posture changing just enough that Eliot’s pretty sure the next thing out of his mouth is going to be a lie, “no?”
Eliot crosses his arms and growls out, “Right, sure, do we have a problem?”
“Not unless you can raise the dead, make frogs rain from the sky or wither half a state’s crops on command,” the guy says, holding up both hands and backing away; Eliot wishes the fact that none of that made any sense was comforting, or that it reminded him less of their mark…
Dresden Files Elsewhere Verse, Chris/Steve, a few stolen peaceful minutes:
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, this is insane,” Chris says, hot on Steve’s heels and slamming the door behind them, doing both the locks and spinning the doohickey that Mr. What-the-fuck-ever-his-name-is-wizard to activate the wards; for a second that they just stand there, not sure what to do with themselves now that the people under the hex (heightened desires, and Jesus, who knew so many chicks felt that way about them) were at least temporarily held at bay.
And then Steve just huffs out a laugh, shaking his head, and pulls Chris with him toward the couch.
Dresden Files/Wolverine, Harry + Remy, about staffs:
“You tellin’ me dat it ain’ jus’ a stick?” the Cajun says, sounding amused (and smirking about it no less).
“Yours is just a stick,” I say, agitated because I really haven’t got time to not-explain magic to a mutant that damn well ought to know better already, “but I’m not about to prove it to you buddy.”
Then again, I’ve been wrong before, very, very wrong, and the pendant around my neck has just gone ice cold.
sgfansean:
Justified, Raylan/OFC, the scars that just won't heal:
He ain’t thinkin’ about how she has blond hair, as a matter of fact, he isn’t much thinkin’ at all just now, buried deep and thrusting and her rising up hot and needy to meet him; when they’re finally satisfied (which is to say, dawn’s tickling at the edges of the sky) she lies beside him like a cat, fingers tripping over his scars with questions now instead of lust.
“I should go,” Raylan says, already getting up and putting on clothes, already one foot out the door. Seems like no matter where he ends up, his ghosts are always with him, but then, he never was willin’ to leave’m be.
Supernatural, Sam + Castiel, Why don't you like me like you like Dean?:
Castiel blinks, pausing for a moment in hopes that Sam will continue long enough to enlighten him; unfortunately the young man just stares at him, wide eyed in what Castiel is sure is the expression Dean referred to as the ‘lost puppy look.’ “I don’t understand what you mean by that question,” he says at last, but it is apparently the wrong thing to say because Sam looks more pathetic. “Is this why your brother says not to leave you alone with Jim, Jack and Jose?”
Leverage, Hardison/Eliot, What part of "I'm gonna kick your ass” don't you understand, geek boy?:
“Oh, so now I’m the geek boy, now I’m kickin’ yo ass back to hicksville?” Hardison asks, just before he whoop-whoops to the tune of the buttons on his remote being mashed, and then Eliot’s character is dead, which is ridiculous because clearly Eliot’s character had the superior skill set.
“Can’t we go back to the other one?” Eliot mutters, cos at least in that one the odds were more even and the game mechanics more realistic; Hardison narrows his eyes suspiciously, though, already opening his mouth to argue about winning. “I’ll make it worth your while…”
Castle, Castle/Beckett, author’s choice
Rick opens his mouth but Beckett just holds up a finger and clicks her tongue at him, he closes his mouth and pouts at her like the best of them.
“Ok, I think I missed somethin’ good,” Esposito says as he comes in, holding out a file for Beckett to take.
“Yeah you did,” Ryan says, smirking and giving him a small wad of cash, “but I gotcha covered; our boy here totally lost a bet.”
Supernatural, Grandpa Winchester/Dean, tell me more about my mom:
He asks because it’s a long ass steak out, and sure, he doesn’t trust Samuel, not really, but he can’t help himself, in some ways Dean supposes he never could; Samuel looks over for a second, annoyed and surprised for just a moment before his eyes flick back to what they’re watching, and Dean thinks he isn’t going to answer.
“What do you want me to tell you, her favorite color, or her favorite weapon for killing skinwalkers or something?” Samuel says at last, before muttering something that might be none of it means a damn thing anyway.
“Yeah, it’d be a start.”
Supernatural, Robo!Sam/OFC(Hooker), You think that's exercise? I'll show you exercise!:
“Well aren’t you the athletic one,” the bitch says as she leans down, one hand braced on the roof of Sam’s Mustang so she can show off as much cleavage as possible; really that’s what gives him the idea to begin with, and once he flashes the fistful of cash Baby Jane (or whatever the hell her real name is) is too wide eyed with greed to stop and think about if it’s a good idea.
Really, you can’t blame Sam for the fact that Baby Jane didn’t realize that at the end of the story Pheidippides dies to report the victory at Marathon; there’s a part of his mind that wonders if Dean would be proud because it breaks some kind of record or something, but he shrugs it off.
He’s too busy finishing himself off before she finally takes her last breath, her body jerking under him in the last gasp of pain and ecstasy after twenty hours of very, very athletic, very brutal sex; although he supposes at least now he doesn’t have to pay her…
RPS/Kane, Chris/Steve, first Christmas together:
Maybe there’s no snow, but there’s a Christmas tree and there’s egg nog and presents, and sitting a little too close on the couch, which isn’t really close enough. Chris may or may not make a bad joke about unwrapping his favorite present, but Steve laughs anyway and kisses him, starts peeling their clothes away and presses skin to hot skin before he presses inside, leaving marks in Christian’s skin with nips along his shoulder; somehow they end up on the floor under the tree, writhing and obscene, until at last they come.
“Merry Christmas,” Steve murmurs, laughing as he stands, pulling Chris up after him.
dramaturgca:
White Collar/X-Men, Neal, my superpower:
When people talk about superpowers, they always thing of the flashy abilities: invisibility, flying, fire or speed; they underestimate without fail the subtlest of powers, perhaps, but by far the most powerful if ever given to the wrong people. A lot of charm and a little luck can give you wealth, art, women… even friends.
Neal smiles his dazzling smile, his thumb brushing lightly over his mark’s knuckles, and doesn’t think about the things that can’t be stolen.
Castle, Alexis + Castle, father and daughter weekly night out:
It used to be every Friday night - dinner out at her favorite pizza place, ice cream from the parlor a few doors down from that, and two movies (even though she always fell asleep part way through the second one). Now he’s lucky if they get one movie, and the night starts later than it used to because she has so much more studying to do, and it’s never on the same night in a row.
But it’s still every week without fail, and there’s still that moment where she looks at him with shining eyes like he’s a hero, so until she’s got to go, until she’s really got to go, he’s gonna take every second he can get.
Castle/X-Men, Professor X + Castle, Prof. X is a fan:
Beckett tries not to smirk to hard when Rick shakes the Professor’s hand enthusiastically, his usual sense of boyish glee out in full force only to devolve exactly on time when Rick suddenly obviously remembers that Xavier is psychic, as in the most powerful psychic, and Becket would hazard to guess that really, right now, he’s blushing so hard in the effort to just stop thinking, which clearly only makes it worse.
Professor Xavier chuckles, pleasantly amused, and says, “You have nothing to worry about, Mr. Castle, I assure you, I am a fan of your work, and am well aware of what that means for all your thought processes.”
Beckett wonders if she should be worried about the way Rick’s eyes dart toward her, but decides to let it go; it’s just not fair to hold a psychic’s commentary against him.
Doctor Who/BSG, Kara Thrace + 10 or 11, Kara didn’t die, she became a Companion:
She knew her time would be up, standing in that field with Lee -she always had, just like she always had wanted spoilers to movies and skipped ahead in books, she had no patience- but that didn’t mean she’d be ready, not to say goodbye, not to Lee. She isn’t surprised when the grass and the breeze and the sunshine is gone, and instead she’s inside the TARDIS again.
“You’ve done what you needed to?” the Doctor asks, though he doesn’t seem to expect her to be willing to answer.
Leverage/White Collar, Peter + Nate, on chasing Neal Caffrey:
It’s no surprise they end up facing each other at the bar, one disheveled and the other out of breath, instead of finding the man they’ve both been chasing for much longer than either would care to admit to, even privately, and if either of them shout an expletive or three or make faces like they’re going to punch someone, well, the hotel staff isn’t going to tell.
“Neal Caffrey,” Burke growls out with every inch of pent up anger (and no small amount of disappointment) boiling in his veins.
Ford just nods, and orders them both a drink.
White Collar/Burn Notice, Elizabeth + Fiona Glenanne, Fiona to El “How do you do it?”:
El’s not sure how to take that question, or how earnestly Fiona is asking it, like El holds the secret to everything; thankfully Fi must realize how left field the question is from the look on her face.
“How do you put up with, with them being so sucked into their work, like you don’t even matter?” Fi demands, obviously very put out, and gestures to where Peter, Neal and Mike are talking.
“Oh, honey,” El says, putting a hand on Fiona’s arm, “it isn’t that they don’t care, or that they don’t love us; they just have a different way of dealing with it which sometimes involves us needing to get them under control sometimes.”
BSG/Burn Notice, Lee + Michael, drinks and talking about their women:
Michael just shakes his head as he watches the women laughing at a table in the corner, knowing just from the gun motions Fi’s making with her hands which story it is she’s telling; he doesn’t miss the way the pilot he’s pretty sure is the commander’s son looks at them too, resigned and longing and annoyed all at once. He orders another round of Ambrosia for the both of them, which earns him a questioning look; he nods towards the women and says, “If yours is anything like mine, the two of them together… we’re both gonna need it.”
Adama laughs and raises his glass, saying, “So say we all.”
earthquakedream:
White Collar/Supernatural, Neal/Sam, the greatest con:
Note: Pretend Appointment in Samarra never happened.
Neal frowns at the wall in lieu of frowning at the man sitting on the bench catty-corner from him; he owed the man’s father for that brief thing in Berlin that had been the real reason Alex was hurt after Copenhagen, but this was… complicated in ways Neal was in no way accustomed to dealing with.
“My brother’s gonna start wondering where I am, so I need to know - can you do it or not?”
Neal waits a beat, and smiles, saying, “You get me that fiddle, Sam, and I’ll steal your soul back.”
Leverage, Parker/Eliot/Hardison, trimming the tree:
Eliot would be pissed when he sees his door is slightly ajar, but he can already hear Hardison laughing (very distinctively happy laughing, not stalling laughing) so really he’s mostly just pleased that he can just walk in; although really he should have thought about it a little more, because he’d gone to pull some of his ornaments from storage (what, a guy like him can’t feel a little holiday spirit?) with the intention of having a modest, nostalgic little tree - a tree, he might add, which he had yet to pick out.
Walking in, he sees Parker hanging from the ceiling (he doesn’t want to think about how) and slowly circuiting a tree just out from the far corner with tinsel that he’s pretty sure she made herself (he’s expecting something expensive, and isn’t disappointed when he finally gets closer - folded money to make a paper chain), the lights already in place (with four different settings, Hardison will boast later, when it’s dark) and for a moment Eliot’s worried they’re going to do the whole tree for him thinking he wouldn’t; as it turns out they didn’t bring much more than that, kinda creeping him out a little when they go out of the way to actually, really, literally only help him put his on the tree.
He doesn’t tell them later, with Parker’s head in his lap and Hardison’s head drifting toward his shoulder and the room awash in soft multi-colored light, that really it’s the most it’s felt like Christmas in years.
Losers, Jensen/Clay (or Jensen&Clay), far from home:
It’s not like the kid to be so quiet -or so far from his computer, for that matter- but he takes the beer Clay hands him and doesn’t move when Clay sits so close to him; they both just look out over the desert and rubble and for a long moment no one says anything.
“You ever miss it, miss home?” Jensen says, sounding more serious than in the whole time Clay’s known him (including more than one near-death experience) and maybe a little lost; Clay claps a hand on his shoulder and Jensen looks up, eyes asking for something Clay can’t put together.
“Yeah,” he says, after a moment -what else is there to say- and nods, “yeah I do.”
Supernatural, Sam/Dean, ugly gnomes:
“…You’ve gotta be shitting me!” Dean says (just says, dammit, he doesn’t squeak, squeal, scream or anything else un-fucking-manly like that) and backs up into Sam, pushing them both backward and off the lawn onto the front stairs of the house.
“Dean,” Sam says, frowning but unafraid, like his soulless little brain can’t make sense of anything, “are those the garden gnomes coming to life? They look… uglier.”
RPS/White Collar, Neal/Jensen, hostage:
“You think…” Neal pauses to laugh, putting on his most dazzling and amused expression despite the guns in their faces and stepping in front of the dashingly attractive man that may or may not be the Jensen Ackles the woman seems to think he is, “that he’s the famous one? Oh sweetheart no, no no, he’s my butler.”
It’s a risky move, Neal knows, but he also knows that of the two of them, the FBI (and Peter) will find him faster…
RPS/Losers, Jensen + Jensen + Jared, "well, ain't this awkward":
Hiding in Canada is a first for them, but Jensen figures it’s pretty a-okay with him (especially when he takes into account the way everyone seems to confuse Clay with an actor he’s never even heard of and the team gets to watch him try to lose fangirls that are more dogged than any of the best assassins); he pushes his way through the whole in the wall bar that’s blissfully tame and into a back room he’d figured for the toilet… except… for the two tall guys that were either about to pull out a blunt or their cocks and doesn’t he know those faces…
Roque pushes hard against his back, obviously having come to the same conclusions, and before Jensen can process enough to even begin to deflect, the man blurts out, “Hey isn’t that the two dudes you do that, what’s that shit you say is art called, manips or some shit like that?”
Jensen would kick him in the balls if he thought he’d get away with it, so instead he settles for banging his head into the door frame a couple times and going to find Cougar and some tequila.
Leverage/White Collar, Parker & Peter, best escape routes:
“Definitely this way,” Parker says, tracing her finger along the layout without really looking at it (and with an annoying amount of accuracy at that), “cos it’s the most easily accessible from almost any point on the floor, and you can go up, down, or to the alley.”
Peter raises his eyebrows, trying not to say you’re crazier than Neal when he does say, “Up or down… as in the roof or the basement?”
“The roof -you can rappel down or get to the next building,” she pulls down another paper showing a top down street view for just a moment before flipping both pages up to reveal a third, “and the sewers.”
honeyjojames:
Goth!Boys, Chris/Steve, perfect night in:
“Nothin’ like a good zombie movie,” Chris murmurs, tilting his head enough to nuzzle Steven’s stomach and give Steve room to stroke his hair; they’re sprawled out on the floor in a pile of pillows and blankets, the couch pushed back and the coffee table moved just far enough to the side to be out of the way but still in reach. They’ve got beer and finger foods (all prepped earlier so they wouldn’t have to get up) and a small queue of movies so there’s no reason to move until they’re ready to head to the bedroom (though to be fair, Chris has a few ideas for staying right where they are).
“Mmmm, though we should’ve gotten another Romero one,” Steve says, and Christian can’t help but be pleased with how content he sounds.
Goth!Boys, Chris/Steve, a particularly extra sensitive tattoo:
“Pauley warned you,” Steven says evenly, somehow managing to hide his amusement and not poke at Christian’s thigh just to rile him up a little; it’d serve him right for being so secretive about the whole thing (to the point he wouldn’t even show Steve the sketch), and having designed a tattoo to fit so far up on his inner thigh where he’s already so sensitive.
“Yeah, well,” Chris mutters, all but pouting as he crosses his arms and sinks lower onto the couch (and winces before adjusting his leg), “I’m runnin’ outta space, alright, and it ain’t like it’s, y’know, for… y’know, everybody.”
“It’s not, huh?” Steven murmurs, leaning over to kiss him thoroughly enough to forget about the tattoo for now.
Goth!Boys, Chris/Steve, their first Christmas together:
Mrs. Kane obviously expects the phone call at five in the morning, her son giddy as a school boy and babbling on about who got him what and the latest hijinks are from the holiday party at the Carlson’s, but Steve has to laugh at the way Christian has to stop and explain that they’ve been up all night and not just waking up, if only for the way his brow furrows because he’s not quite sober yet. Eventually Steven pries him away from the phone (it may or may not have involved threatening to spank him with the poor woman still on the line and a swift slap to the ass, cos he understands missing his family, but seriously) and drags him off to bed where they may or may not make the day merry and bright through the inappropriate use of tinsel.
And now there’s nothing to do, and no one to see, and the day is theirs, and if they spend it mostly sleeping (or in bed, anyway), well, Steve’s certainly not going to complain.
Waiter!AU, Chris/Steve, finding the perfect gift:
Steve’s pretty sure that this isn’t the way it’s supposed to work, that this really ought to be the other way around because honestly, shouldn’t he be more nervous than Christian when it comes to shopping for presents?
“Don’t gimme that look Steve, ain’t like I got a clue about where to start for this and what if I pick out something she doesn’t like, what if I pick something she thinks is awful and, fuck it just, fuck I haven’t got even the smallest, not even a little, I just… what should…”
“Breathe, Christian,” Steve says, trying not to laugh as he pulls the catalogs and laptop away, “my mom’s gonna love you, okay?”
Rescue 77/Love Song, Billy/Wick, early morning:
“Time is it?” Billy murmurs almost inaudibly, curling into Wick at tightening the arm around Wick’s waist, his face pressed firmly between Wick’s jaw line and the pillow to avoid any chance of stray sunlight.
“Early,” Wick says, which is an understatement really, considering the sun isn’t even up, and if it weren’t for the stupidly long shift he’d just had at work he’d probably be out cold; as it is, he’s just pleased to tangle himself up with Billy, fingers trailing along his shoulder. “Go back to sleep…”
Rescue 77/Love Song, Billy/Wick, Happy New Year:
“To the year that’s done,” Mike says, glass raised, right before Ryan follows with, “you sucked and we’re glad to see you go.”
Wick laughs and shakes his head, a point which Billy more feels than hears because the engine crew is being rowdy in the long (alcohol free) small hours, and says, “To next year, when it’ll just get better!”
Billy grins, feeling a warmth that has nothing to do with the perpetual (and damn near unseasonal) LA heat and knowing without question that Wick ain’t wrong.
Kane RPS, Chris/Steve, first day off after months on the road:
There should probably moving (really, there should definitely be moving, and food, and saying hi to friends and family and sticking toes in sand and sticking other body parts in much more interesting places though possibly still at the beach) bit it just ain’t gonna happen. Fuck, they’re lucky they made it to the couch before all the adrenaline from traveling and the sense of home and fuckitallrelaxnow kicked in.
Steve manages to adjust himself (it’s more of a little wiggle and slumping) so that his head is resting on Kane’s stomach and sighs, content enough to sleep.