The super late Christmas present ficlets post of doom (part 2)
Second verse, same as the first. Thanks again guys! ♥
neierathima:
Doctor Who/Leverage, Doctor(10) + Parker+ leverage team, "I used to have a boss once. Well, more like a companion than a boss. Except I was the companion. And there was a police box. But it was a spaceship.":
Hardison just sorta stops what he’s doing because seriously, Parker is a little weird but this, this is some Grade A maybe we oughta consider taking you to a doctor cos that is cray-cray nonsensical shit. Except that it rolls right off of Nate and Sophie’s shoulders like it’s just another in a long line of Parker-sodes (and really, Sophie’s just happy Parker’s sharing things she thinks are true, and that’s the important thing); it’s Eliot that really does him in because he’d totally expected a brother-in-arms to pull out the full on somethin’s wrong with you line and he just sits there sipping his beer like everything’s, y’know, normal.
“What,” Eliot says when he realizes Hardison is staring, “I know a guy like that.”
*Whether he means the Doctor (or which incarnation) is left entirely to the reader.
Alice/Sherlock, Sherlock/John + Alice(/ or +)Hatter, sherlock is from wonderland:
“Which is precisely why I left,” Sherlock is saying, voice clipped and cold, to a shortish dark haired man in a brown leather jacket and stiff brimmed sort of top hat and a girl with bright eyes and a surprisingly wet, blue dress. “As you can see I have little interest in a place where up is also down, oysters are currency, and the Queen is madder than your predecessor.” He turns sharply, looking positively thankful to spot John, and takes him by the arm, pulling him away as he mutters, “I suppose now we shall have to go see Mycroft…”
Losers/Sherlock, Sherlock/John + the Losers, Sherlock meets some of the guys John has patched up.:
“John don’t eat this, as it isn’t jam and… what’s this then?” Sherlock’s eyes flick over the hodge-podge collection of people -soldiers, obviously (barring the woman, who is, quite boringly, a mercenary, likely with a temper), probably special forces, definitely Americans (even without seeing the fatigues or dog tags, which are missing in any case, and certainly by the sort of cigarette smoke lingering on the one he’s sure is the commanding officer), and all in good physical form without accounting for a level of exhaustion representative of a very long flight (likely from the western States, though it could just as easily have been Canada or Mexico)- before settling on John for his explanation; John likes it when Sherlock lets him explain things instead of just assuming them, and so Sherlock waits for the moment it takes John to answer, even if he’s already figured out that John had met them while on tour, though it was more likely a short stint in Iraq than it was John’s time in Afghanistan.
“They’re, ah, old acquaintances of mine… owe Clay here my life, really.”
Sherlock narrows his eyes for just a moment, wondering if his day has just gotten infinitely more interesting, and says, “Well, if you’re going to help them you may as well explain everything to me now.”
Supernatural, Dean + Jimmy Novak, in season one, Dean interviews a witness in a case - Jimmy Novak:
Dean is torn between assuming this guy’s gonna give them all of jack and shit, and wanting to assure him that he’s not crazy, that the voice he heard talking to him probably is what took his daughter away; of course, if he did the latter, he’d also have to explain about how he’s not really FBI and oh, by the way, it couldn’t have been an actual angel because while demons and ghosts exist, those don’t.
He doesn’t see it going down so well, especially with the way this guy Novak is already staring glassy eyed at nothing, guilt and anger and grief written across his face and only storming darker when Dean asks what it is the voice wanted.
“The end of the world.”
Sandman/Leverage, Parker + Delirium, Parker knows why Delight became Delirium:
Parker knows why but she’ll never say; she knows with the certainty only the mad can find, only the broken, and Eliot’s words ring through her head again: there’s something wrong with you. Of course there is, of course, because you’re not supposed to see, you’re not supposed to know, and two little girls sitting on the rooftops talking about rainbow fish cannot un-be what they are, cannot un-whisper secrets in the dark, and the things not inside the Book of Things That Were/Are/Have Yet to Be.
Parker smiles when she sees Her, and waves, and ignores the way Eliot and Hardison look at her, because they can’t see; honestly it’s better that way, she likes them whole.
Sandman/Sherlock - Sherlock/John - he lives among humans, taking human names and living human lives, but chasing after Sherlock Holmes may be something entirely new for him. (or, uh, Destruction!John):
It was Delight that taught him that not only do all things end but bend and change, Delirium that there is tranquility in madness not borne of blood; he proved to himself that existence would exist without him, that the laws would stand in place un-destroyed, and he lived without their tug of responsibility, taking on new tasks and new names to find what living really means (not unlike his eldest sister).
But his -he- is something else, this Sherlock Holmes, who had so easily guessed John’s (Destruction no longer) life (however much un-lived) and blinked straight past the truth of John’s being (undoubtedly dismissed as illogical, though sometimes John wonders if it were dismissed as inconsequential to the more important conclusions as to his character.
John supposes that in the end that’s what draws him in (that and other things, though John will hardly think of them and draw his sister-brother’s attention), that being What He Is simply doesn’t matter to a man like Sherlock, any more than his choice of tea or jumpers.
raggedy_edge:
Goth boys AU, Lee/author's choice, through the dark turns and noise:
I jumped back to the beginning…
The club is packed for some band Lee’s never heard of, too loud and too dark with a beat so resonant he’s having a hard time breathing and he’s starting to think maybe he shouldn’t have come here tonight; it’d been a long day at the theater, especially when that fucking kid cut the power while he was on the fucking catwalks like it was a silly fucking prank, and all he wanted was a quick drink and maybe to flirt with those guys a little so he could at least go home on a good note.
“Hey,” someone shouts near him, only barely audible, “it’s better over here!” Lee see it’s Ewan (and wow, that smile just… makes everything except the thumpthumpthump of the music better); Ewan grabs Lee by the wrist, his little finger just barely curling into the palm of Lee’s hand, and leads him to the far side of the club.
Greek gods AU, author's choice(s), the heavens still will fall:
“It doesn’t matter, y’know,” Lee says with a voice scratchy from disuse, startling Jensen (he’d honestly forgotten the other man was there), “that we’re still us, that we stayed, none of it.”
Jensen’s not sure what to make of that, let alone what to say to him, but it’s the first thing Lee’s said to him since arriving so he says, “How do you mean?”
“People are still born, still die, the stars still hang in place, and no matter what we do, things still fall apart, still…” Lee whispers, but he breaks off, like his throat just closes around the words.
Firefly/RPS, Steven/author's choice, tremble in the pouring rain:
Matthew stands in the gangway and watches the captain standing in the cold and the rain, staring out towards the edges of town; Matt knows why he’s waiting -hell, if it were Lee he’d be considering the same- but what he doesn’t know is why the buhn dahn[buhn dahn = "stupid egg" (idiot/moron)] hasn’t just gone after him already.
“Cos I want him to want to come back,” Steven says without preamble, barely audible over the sound of the rain on the hull, and if Matt didn’t know better, he’d think the man sounded lost.
“And if he’s waiting for you t’come after him?” Matt asks, but Steve just looks away.
Firefly/RPS, Ewan/author's choice, nah mei guan-shee (trans: that has nothing to do with it):
“He must be one hell of a mark,” Tom says, managing to look ethereal in his perfectly cut yet slightly askew suit, like he’s just had the most divine roll in the hay -and since when does Ewan use such humdrum phrases as that?- as he watches Ewan over his glass of cognac, “if he’s held your attention for so long, though I do wonder, what can you be getting out of the poor sot, besides his ship, or is it just the free ride?”
“Nah mei guan-shee,” Ewan retorts, more agitated than he ought to be and revealing much more than he’d meant to; he’s been out of things for too long, apparently.
“Then what… oh, don’t tell me you actually… you… you of all men in the ‘Verse, you have fallen for a scruffy looking Browncoat?”
SteampunkAU, Steven/Christian, there will be talk tomorrow:
“You’ll have to excuse us,” Master Carlson says, cutting in between Christian and the self-indulgent and overly familiar Lady Foglio, who in turn does not miss the way Christian’s cheeks burn or the way Master Carlson’s hand settles on the small of Christian’s back as he leads him away.
“Should you have done that?” Christian asks, all too aware of how the lady already whispers, and how someone of her station could try to ruin Master Carlson’s reputation.
Steven turns them suddenly, pressing Christian into the wall and leaning in close enough that he can feel his breath on his lips when he says, “There will be talk of us sooner or later, so let them talk tomorrow, and let us give them something to say.”
Alice/Leverage, Parker/Hatter, half a quarter past forever:
Falling is the longest part of the Rabbit’s Hole, especially when you’re falling up and everything seems to go so slowly, and Parker’s doing some sort of backwards juggling with chess pieces while waiting for his answer. “There’s nought between Now an’ Never,” he says at last, trying not to mope too much on account of her threat to make him climb his way out again, “an’ I can’t see ‘ow he’d want to ‘ear from me…”
Parker looks at him seriously, frowning as she catches all her pieces as she turns head over toes to be closer to him, and says, “Don’t wait til half a quarter past forever, okay?”
badfalcon:
RPS, goth Chris/Steve porny kinky porn sex action pretty please?:
Steven pets over Christian’s ass, bright red from his spanking, and hums in approval when Chris just pants a little harder and doesn’t move or jerk against his cuffs again. Steve rewards him by pressing the button on the remote in his other hand, activating the vibrator and drawing out a low moan from Christian that devolves into whimpers and gasps; he moves closer, reaching around Chris to stroke his cock encouragingly, rubbing his thumb along the slit just to make him tremble.
“Please, fuck, fuck me,” Christian begs, and then he comes, hips jerking and still begging to be fucked.
RPS (Bond!au), Mark Sheppard/Steve Carlson, Steven on his knees (non-sexual D/s):
Wherein Sheppard is the villain and Carlson is the evil Bond girl (er, role wise, not gender bending), and Kane is Bond.
Mark looks up as Steven enters and stands in front of his desk, staring at the wall until Mark gestures and he kneels; Steven’s shirt is opened to below the chest, exposing skin marked with bites and a hickey or two. “I take it you’ve gained Mister Kane’s confidence, then?” he asks as he stands, walking around his desk before leaning against it and watching Steven’s face closely.
The man’s face flushes, and he licks his lip before he says, “Almost sir. I think… I think there’s someone else.”
~~~
“I see,” Mark says, the words cold and clipped, and Steven flinches. Steven swallows hard when Mark reaches over for his cane and gestures for Steven to get into position. “I shall have to teach you to try harder next time, then, won’t I?”
cyphersushi
Cowboy!au, JDM + Steve, ‘What have you brought to my door, boy?’:
Continued from here.
Steven maybe should have expected such a cold greeting, seein’ as he’s standing on Morgan’s porch half a day late and carryin’ a half dead Cherokee, let alone this Cherokee, where there ain’t no doubt in Morgan’s expression he’s seein’ what everyone says is a horse thief, but he can’t help scowling.
“Ya just gonna let him bleed to death all over me, then, cos I ain’t never thought you were that kinda bastard.”
Morgan ain’t happy -that’s as clear as gunsmoke in an open field- but he pushes the door wider and gets his boys to clear a cot; it’s in the back, where the old man used to keep his slaves, but it’ll do.
Leverage/Burn Notice, Eliot/Michael, "Santa costumes? How did you piss off Sam this time?":
Eliot has to bite his tongue to keep from laughing when he opens the box (well, until he realizes there’s two suits in there) and raises an eyebrow at Michael before asking, “What the hell’d you do to Sam?”
“Nothing,” Mike says in the way that someone that knew nothing about him or spies or conmen would take for a straight answer, but after a beat and a swallow of yogurt he relents with, “much.”
Some days Eliot could almost, almost hear Hardison laughing his ass off at him, and he doesn’t bother resisting the urge to bang his head against the counter.
Cowboy!au, Kane, confusion:
He wakes with a start, heart racing like a herd of horses through a valley, and he’d sit up, he’d run if he could, but even inclining his head makes him dizzy enough to feel it in his toes, so that his only comfort is that his fear, still cold in his veins, was from a dream alone. He breathes, deep even breaths like his grandfather taught him, and tries to catch his bearings beyond the spike of pain in his side and the sweat of his skin; he’s in a room, small but clean and with a window to his right, on a cot that’s nearly comfortable and certainly more comfortable than the ground, and across the way is a door that stands open, letting in the smells of bacon and coffee… as well as the man he’d found in the darkness.
“Easy now,” the man says, almost sounding gentle, “ain’t nobody gonna hurt’cha here, and ain’t no cause to pull your stitches.
Leverage, Eliot/Hardison/Parker, Stocking stuffers:
The second he sees the red velvet stockings carefully pinned along the top of his television set, Eliot is worried; Hardison just grins wide and bumps his shoulder as if to say c’mon, man, it’s just gonna be a wad of cash but Eliot’s not so sure. Parker’s been weirder than usual lately, asking questions that are on the one hand probing (damn Sophie and her lessons) but on the other make no sense that Eliot can make heads or tails of.
Eliot isn’t expecting the small wooden case that slides out, that it’s well oiled and old looking, and he certainly isn’t expecting the antique blade inside, obviously from a private collection; from the small sound Hardison just made, Parker put a lot more thought into Christmas than any of them gave her credit for.
Leverage, Eliot/Hardison/Parker, Parker goes christmas shopping:
Parker knows that Sophie said the way she does her Christmas shopping is wrong, but then Sophie and Nate acquired (she makes the quotes motion as she walks, because that’s what Hardison said she should do) their presents and Parker figures this is one of those fuzzy lines (she wiggles her fingers again) Nate always talks about.
“Y’know you’re only s’posed to do that when you’re talking out loud, right?” Eliot asks, giving her that look he does when she’s being weird, but he doesn’t make her put back the jewelry she’d lifted for Sophie so it can’t be that bad. “C’mon, we’d better go rescue the electronics store from Hardison, or he’ll buy himself his presents and you’ll be stuck buyin’ his sorry ass orange soda an’ those gummy things of his.”
Steampunk!AU, Author's Choice, An evening of simple pleasures:
Jefferey hides his smile behind his mug while one of his boys adds more wood to the bonfire; Hutton’s new man -Olyphant, he thinks- is fitting in just fine, a fact which seems to be smoothing out Christian’s fears about Master Carlson being present at so “low” a gathering, nevermind Steven’s own eagerness to attend. A simple meal cooked over an open flame and plenty stories of adventure (or misadventure, in Christian’s case) paved the way for laughter and easy companionship, and now that the sun is setting, Olyphant and the others are convincing the two musician’s to play something for them.
He pities Lord Hutton, who is unfortunately detained at a much more formal, much less interesting dinner party.
Steampunk!AU. Timothy Olyphant, New city, new possibilities:
Mister Olyphant takes a moment to take in the city before the airship moves in to dock; he makes his way down the gangway with the other passengers but can’t help feeling he has a greater sense of purpose and direction, especially when he nears the bottom and realizes there is a driver and carriage waiting for him.
“If I may sir,” the driver says, taking his bag and sliding it inside before opening the door for him, “Lord Hutton will meet you there presently.”
“Thank you kindly,” Timothy says, smiling, and climbs inside, marveling that he has managed to find employment with a man who can not only afford a horseless carriage, but finds them largely acceptable.
serenelystrange:
Leverage, Parker/Eliot/Hardison, finger puppets:
“This,” Eliot growls in the tone he uses when he wants Hardison to pay really close attention, “is what happens when you leave Parker stuck in a kindergarten craft closet all day!”
There had been a number of very good reasons why Hardison couldn’t save Parker immediately, the most important of which was a bomb, thank you very much, and the second most important was Sophie going all kindergarten teacher and not wanting to scare the kiddies (and whose attempts at teaching them Art and Self probably sunk into Parker’s head sideways). Needless to say, Parker pilfered an awful lot of excess craft materials and was putting them to good use… mostly utilizing the coffee table, end table, and part of the entertainment center in Eliot’s living room.
~~~
To be fair, though, Eliot could look a lot grumpier; mostly it’s just that he can’t watch the game, which he’s gotten used to when Parker’s around, but she’s also usually distracting him with things a lot more… athletic… than crafts. Parker chooses that moment to look up, grinning wide and waving at them with a fistful of brown yarn and what may or may not be glitter.
“You see that smile, man, you can’t even tell me you want me to stop her, unless you’re set on breaking her heart?”
~~~
Eliot huffs, throws up his hands, and totally, absolutely, does not stomp into the kitchen to make dinner. Which means, of course, that he misses Parker “practicing” - one finger with a big smiley face and yellow yarn for hair, one finger with a surprisingly accurate replica of one of Hardison’s t-shirts and a smile drawn on with brown marker, and another finger with long brown hair, a dark t-shirt and an angry smiley face being pressed together in long smooth motions.
“What,” Parker asks when she looks up again, and Hardison realizes that Eliot’s stepped in from the kitchen, cheeks turning a little pink and staring at her hands, “isn’t this what you’re supposed to do with finger puppets?”
Note: Things I couldn’t find a smooth way of fitting in to the story - the perfect replica of a Glenn-Rieder Prestige safe, of Nate’s apartment, and the layout of her favorite bank in Boston, plus all of Sophie’s costumes that Parker thought were pretty, plus finger sized rappelling gear and the materials Parker thinks she’d need to make finger sized computers for Hardison.
canadiangoddess:
BSG/RPS - Starbuck/Kane - things a storage rack has seen (when no one else is looking):
Starbuck kicks the hatch shut behind her and advances on the knuckle dragger with predatory glee, fingers already working hard at her jock smock and more than frakking ready to burn off some adrenaline; not that Kane isn’t ready for her -frak but the mother frakker’s fast for a gods damned snipe- and he’s got her pinned up against the shelving, already pulling at the clothes under her flight suit to find skin. She lets him for a little while, riding his fingers while he smirks against her skin, but she can feel his cock where he’s pressed against her thigh and she shoves him back hard, sweeping his feet out from under him and all but pouncing on him, peeling his jump suit away and trying to decide if she’s going to tease him before she fraks him.
He growls, pulling at her, and she laughs; this might not be what either of them really want, but right now it’ll hit the spot.
Leverage/Justified - Eliot/Raylan - is that your blood or mine? (does it really matter?):
“Don’t matter none,” Eliot says, tries to laugh and ends up coughing instead, and Raylan can’t help thinkin’ that the way the blood is smeared on his teeth looks far too attractive for a moment like this, but then, maybe it’s the blood loss talking, “seein’ as we’re outnumbered.”
“We ain’t Butch an’ Sundance,” Raylan musters; it’s as close to optimism as a man can get, time like this, and leastways Eliot smiles.
“Preachin’ to the choir, man, but yu just shoot straight an’ maybe…”
Sandman/Firefly - Wash & Death - take my hand and lead me to salvation (go not quietly into that good night):
“Wh…what, no, no no no, not like, you can’t… no, this isn’t the way it works, isn’t the way I die, I can’t, can’t, Zoe needs me
… Serenity needs me, I can’t…” Wash says, running out of metaphorical breath as he looks down at himself, run through now, now after pulling off all that.
“I know,” She says from beside him, smiling sadly and holding out a hand. “For what it’s worth, that’s the best landing I’ve seen in millenia, but it’s time to go now.”
Waiter!AU - Christmas Eve ain't quite Christmas Morning (but it'll have to do):
There’s a resounding and repetitive bang on the door that has Christian jumping up, despite having been incredibly comfortable with his head in Steve’s lap just a heartbeat before; he answers Steven’s door, more than a little excited, and manages to look at least marginally apologetic when he glances over his shoulder.
“Didn’t want’m delivered til tomorrow,” he says, dragging and pushing everything in Steve’s direction, “but it didn’t matter what I offered, they weren’t gonna deliver on Christmas day. Go on, then, open’m!”
KaneRPS, Chris/Steve - breaking in the tour bus (your bunk or mine?):
“Didn’t say a damn word about bunks,” Kane says with a smirk, pressing in close so that Steve has to walk backward up the steps or fall over on them, only to be turned and pushed and tackled to the floor; he hasn’t even got time to breathe before Christian’s rubbing at him through his jeans and trying to leave marks on Steve’s neck. “Figure we start at the front, work our way back, make every inch of this bus ours.”
If Steve plans on complaining it’s going to have to wait because Chris is already scrambling his brain through his cock, clever fingers working him in the ways only Kane has ever managed, only to pull away, pull him up and bend him over the table.
DocWho/Wolverine - 10 & Logan - they are neither of them immortal, but they'll both be there at the end of all things (who else would understand?):
The Doctor has always believed in no spoilers, but it’s awfully hard for that to be true as a Time Lord; there’s just some things, some people, that you can’t miss, that you can’t avoid for long, that you can’t ever deny.
Jack was one, and now there’s this Logan, and the Doctor can tell just with a look this won’t be the last time they’ll meet, that there is no last time they’ll meet, except for The Last Time for everything, everyone, when the Universe closes it’s doors and all existence finds out What’s Next. Logan looks marginally surprised that he buys him a drink, but grunts in thanks, eyeing him like he can tell; for as long as he’s been around, he can probably tell like from like.
DocWho/Firefly - 10 & Inara - Inara's been every kind of Companion (it isn't always about sex):
She has never spoken of what drew her away from the Guild House and Sinhon, not to other Companions and certainly not to the passengers or crew of Serenity, and neither does she meditate upon it, but there are times, in the quiet of the Black, that Serenity will hum just so, that in the hustling bustle of the Rim worlds she’ll see just the edge of a building that looks a little too blue, and her heart will skip a beat (though if she were to confess, truthfully it thunders, a stampede of oxen in the bowels of a ship, churning for what’s been lost).
He showed her things that she can’t rightly put words to, things that changed her… the birth of suns and the death of whole galaxies, Earth that Was and the Earth that would come to be, and worlds and people’s so fine she felt small and dirty. She might have stayed with him for longer (for forever) but he could see in his eyes she wasn’t what he needed, however much he needed her wonder, her hope; a Companion’s greatest gift has always been to give those around her what they need…
phantisma:
Kane RPS, Chris/author's choice, gave me a what?:
For the purposes of this set of ficlets you’ll need to handwave exotic pet laws, or assume he’s also being given all the appropriate registrations/certificates of ownership etc required, even for states that would otherwise ban things.
“You… what?” Christian asks, cos he couldn’t have heard that right; ain’t no way he heard it right, cos surely owning a freakin’ wolf can’t be legal. He shakes his head, backing away from the animal crate that Case sets down -he knew his friend was crazy but seriously this is a whole new level of somethin’, even for her- and says, “Y’know I can’t even take care of myself and you expect me to-”
But then she’s handing over a smallish dark brown ball of fur with big round gray eyes and it’s whimpering at him and licking his face and whatever argument Christian thought he had melts away.
~~~
“His name is Frisco,” Case says, and Chris would swear on his mama that she was smirking -not that he tears his eyes away from the pup long enough to check- as sets out some other supplies, “and you are all he has in the world because he was separated from the pack and now they won’t accept him.” If she notices that he holds Frisco a little tighter she doesn’t say anything. “I’ll leave you two to bond now, but if you need anything, there’s a few numbers in the folder with his paperwork.”
Kane RPS, Chris + Frisco, inseperable:
Follows “gave me what?”
Bonding might have been just a little bit of an understatement, really (ok, fine, it’s a goddamn litotes) cos before Chris really thinks to notice Frisco’s been snuggled up to him to sleep every night and going for runs every morning and on Chris’ lunch break he’s sneaking the pup bits of red meat like they’d never not been together. It really only sinks in when he tries to bring Frisco into Powell’s and the cashier politely tells him the dog has to stay outside; he doesn’t argue with her (though, ok, ok, he does say he’ll keep Frisco on his leash and keep’m close) and ties him outside.
But he doesn’t browse the way he’d originally meant to, just beelines straight to what he knows he wants and fidgets when he has to wait in line, and when he gets back outside Frisco is fussing and whining and can’t nuzzle him fast enough.
Kane RPS, Chris + Frisco, a little rest:
Chris scrubs a hand over his face and tries not to wince, cos between the aches in his knees and his back and the way his arm sort of tingles from his day old stubble he can already tell it’s gonna be a long ass day; he finally rouses himself enough to try to stand, but a growl and a firm tug send him sprawling back onto the bed, at which point Frisco settles on his chest, chuffing at him. There’s a whistle, and Frisco darting away, only to come trotting back bearing a bottle of Nyquil just as Chris is starting to sit up again.
“Is this some kin’a hint?” he shouts, or tries to anyway, and even through the fog inside his head he doesn’t miss how Frisco and Steve huff at him in the same way.
~~~
“You do realize normal people wouldn’t need hints, right?” Steve asks, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. “Now are you gonna take your medicine and go back to sleep like a good boy, or is Frisco gonna have to hold you down?”
Chris opens his mouth to argue, but Steve raises an eyebrow at him and Frisco growls, so he decides just to grumble and fight with the Nyquil bottle instead.
neierathima:
Doctor Who/Leverage, Doctor(10) + Parker+ leverage team, "I used to have a boss once. Well, more like a companion than a boss. Except I was the companion. And there was a police box. But it was a spaceship.":
Hardison just sorta stops what he’s doing because seriously, Parker is a little weird but this, this is some Grade A maybe we oughta consider taking you to a doctor cos that is cray-cray nonsensical shit. Except that it rolls right off of Nate and Sophie’s shoulders like it’s just another in a long line of Parker-sodes (and really, Sophie’s just happy Parker’s sharing things she thinks are true, and that’s the important thing); it’s Eliot that really does him in because he’d totally expected a brother-in-arms to pull out the full on somethin’s wrong with you line and he just sits there sipping his beer like everything’s, y’know, normal.
“What,” Eliot says when he realizes Hardison is staring, “I know a guy like that.”
*Whether he means the Doctor (or which incarnation) is left entirely to the reader.
Alice/Sherlock, Sherlock/John + Alice(/ or +)Hatter, sherlock is from wonderland:
“Which is precisely why I left,” Sherlock is saying, voice clipped and cold, to a shortish dark haired man in a brown leather jacket and stiff brimmed sort of top hat and a girl with bright eyes and a surprisingly wet, blue dress. “As you can see I have little interest in a place where up is also down, oysters are currency, and the Queen is madder than your predecessor.” He turns sharply, looking positively thankful to spot John, and takes him by the arm, pulling him away as he mutters, “I suppose now we shall have to go see Mycroft…”
Losers/Sherlock, Sherlock/John + the Losers, Sherlock meets some of the guys John has patched up.:
“John don’t eat this, as it isn’t jam and… what’s this then?” Sherlock’s eyes flick over the hodge-podge collection of people -soldiers, obviously (barring the woman, who is, quite boringly, a mercenary, likely with a temper), probably special forces, definitely Americans (even without seeing the fatigues or dog tags, which are missing in any case, and certainly by the sort of cigarette smoke lingering on the one he’s sure is the commanding officer), and all in good physical form without accounting for a level of exhaustion representative of a very long flight (likely from the western States, though it could just as easily have been Canada or Mexico)- before settling on John for his explanation; John likes it when Sherlock lets him explain things instead of just assuming them, and so Sherlock waits for the moment it takes John to answer, even if he’s already figured out that John had met them while on tour, though it was more likely a short stint in Iraq than it was John’s time in Afghanistan.
“They’re, ah, old acquaintances of mine… owe Clay here my life, really.”
Sherlock narrows his eyes for just a moment, wondering if his day has just gotten infinitely more interesting, and says, “Well, if you’re going to help them you may as well explain everything to me now.”
Supernatural, Dean + Jimmy Novak, in season one, Dean interviews a witness in a case - Jimmy Novak:
Dean is torn between assuming this guy’s gonna give them all of jack and shit, and wanting to assure him that he’s not crazy, that the voice he heard talking to him probably is what took his daughter away; of course, if he did the latter, he’d also have to explain about how he’s not really FBI and oh, by the way, it couldn’t have been an actual angel because while demons and ghosts exist, those don’t.
He doesn’t see it going down so well, especially with the way this guy Novak is already staring glassy eyed at nothing, guilt and anger and grief written across his face and only storming darker when Dean asks what it is the voice wanted.
“The end of the world.”
Sandman/Leverage, Parker + Delirium, Parker knows why Delight became Delirium:
Parker knows why but she’ll never say; she knows with the certainty only the mad can find, only the broken, and Eliot’s words ring through her head again: there’s something wrong with you. Of course there is, of course, because you’re not supposed to see, you’re not supposed to know, and two little girls sitting on the rooftops talking about rainbow fish cannot un-be what they are, cannot un-whisper secrets in the dark, and the things not inside the Book of Things That Were/Are/Have Yet to Be.
Parker smiles when she sees Her, and waves, and ignores the way Eliot and Hardison look at her, because they can’t see; honestly it’s better that way, she likes them whole.
Sandman/Sherlock - Sherlock/John - he lives among humans, taking human names and living human lives, but chasing after Sherlock Holmes may be something entirely new for him. (or, uh, Destruction!John):
It was Delight that taught him that not only do all things end but bend and change, Delirium that there is tranquility in madness not borne of blood; he proved to himself that existence would exist without him, that the laws would stand in place un-destroyed, and he lived without their tug of responsibility, taking on new tasks and new names to find what living really means (not unlike his eldest sister).
But his -he- is something else, this Sherlock Holmes, who had so easily guessed John’s (Destruction no longer) life (however much un-lived) and blinked straight past the truth of John’s being (undoubtedly dismissed as illogical, though sometimes John wonders if it were dismissed as inconsequential to the more important conclusions as to his character.
John supposes that in the end that’s what draws him in (that and other things, though John will hardly think of them and draw his sister-brother’s attention), that being What He Is simply doesn’t matter to a man like Sherlock, any more than his choice of tea or jumpers.
raggedy_edge:
Goth boys AU, Lee/author's choice, through the dark turns and noise:
I jumped back to the beginning…
The club is packed for some band Lee’s never heard of, too loud and too dark with a beat so resonant he’s having a hard time breathing and he’s starting to think maybe he shouldn’t have come here tonight; it’d been a long day at the theater, especially when that fucking kid cut the power while he was on the fucking catwalks like it was a silly fucking prank, and all he wanted was a quick drink and maybe to flirt with those guys a little so he could at least go home on a good note.
“Hey,” someone shouts near him, only barely audible, “it’s better over here!” Lee see it’s Ewan (and wow, that smile just… makes everything except the thumpthumpthump of the music better); Ewan grabs Lee by the wrist, his little finger just barely curling into the palm of Lee’s hand, and leads him to the far side of the club.
Greek gods AU, author's choice(s), the heavens still will fall:
“It doesn’t matter, y’know,” Lee says with a voice scratchy from disuse, startling Jensen (he’d honestly forgotten the other man was there), “that we’re still us, that we stayed, none of it.”
Jensen’s not sure what to make of that, let alone what to say to him, but it’s the first thing Lee’s said to him since arriving so he says, “How do you mean?”
“People are still born, still die, the stars still hang in place, and no matter what we do, things still fall apart, still…” Lee whispers, but he breaks off, like his throat just closes around the words.
Firefly/RPS, Steven/author's choice, tremble in the pouring rain:
Matthew stands in the gangway and watches the captain standing in the cold and the rain, staring out towards the edges of town; Matt knows why he’s waiting -hell, if it were Lee he’d be considering the same- but what he doesn’t know is why the buhn dahn[buhn dahn = "stupid egg" (idiot/moron)] hasn’t just gone after him already.
“Cos I want him to want to come back,” Steven says without preamble, barely audible over the sound of the rain on the hull, and if Matt didn’t know better, he’d think the man sounded lost.
“And if he’s waiting for you t’come after him?” Matt asks, but Steve just looks away.
Firefly/RPS, Ewan/author's choice, nah mei guan-shee (trans: that has nothing to do with it):
“He must be one hell of a mark,” Tom says, managing to look ethereal in his perfectly cut yet slightly askew suit, like he’s just had the most divine roll in the hay -and since when does Ewan use such humdrum phrases as that?- as he watches Ewan over his glass of cognac, “if he’s held your attention for so long, though I do wonder, what can you be getting out of the poor sot, besides his ship, or is it just the free ride?”
“Nah mei guan-shee,” Ewan retorts, more agitated than he ought to be and revealing much more than he’d meant to; he’s been out of things for too long, apparently.
“Then what… oh, don’t tell me you actually… you… you of all men in the ‘Verse, you have fallen for a scruffy looking Browncoat?”
SteampunkAU, Steven/Christian, there will be talk tomorrow:
“You’ll have to excuse us,” Master Carlson says, cutting in between Christian and the self-indulgent and overly familiar Lady Foglio, who in turn does not miss the way Christian’s cheeks burn or the way Master Carlson’s hand settles on the small of Christian’s back as he leads him away.
“Should you have done that?” Christian asks, all too aware of how the lady already whispers, and how someone of her station could try to ruin Master Carlson’s reputation.
Steven turns them suddenly, pressing Christian into the wall and leaning in close enough that he can feel his breath on his lips when he says, “There will be talk of us sooner or later, so let them talk tomorrow, and let us give them something to say.”
Alice/Leverage, Parker/Hatter, half a quarter past forever:
Falling is the longest part of the Rabbit’s Hole, especially when you’re falling up and everything seems to go so slowly, and Parker’s doing some sort of backwards juggling with chess pieces while waiting for his answer. “There’s nought between Now an’ Never,” he says at last, trying not to mope too much on account of her threat to make him climb his way out again, “an’ I can’t see ‘ow he’d want to ‘ear from me…”
Parker looks at him seriously, frowning as she catches all her pieces as she turns head over toes to be closer to him, and says, “Don’t wait til half a quarter past forever, okay?”
badfalcon:
RPS, goth Chris/Steve porny kinky porn sex action pretty please?:
Steven pets over Christian’s ass, bright red from his spanking, and hums in approval when Chris just pants a little harder and doesn’t move or jerk against his cuffs again. Steve rewards him by pressing the button on the remote in his other hand, activating the vibrator and drawing out a low moan from Christian that devolves into whimpers and gasps; he moves closer, reaching around Chris to stroke his cock encouragingly, rubbing his thumb along the slit just to make him tremble.
“Please, fuck, fuck me,” Christian begs, and then he comes, hips jerking and still begging to be fucked.
RPS (Bond!au), Mark Sheppard/Steve Carlson, Steven on his knees (non-sexual D/s):
Wherein Sheppard is the villain and Carlson is the evil Bond girl (er, role wise, not gender bending), and Kane is Bond.
Mark looks up as Steven enters and stands in front of his desk, staring at the wall until Mark gestures and he kneels; Steven’s shirt is opened to below the chest, exposing skin marked with bites and a hickey or two. “I take it you’ve gained Mister Kane’s confidence, then?” he asks as he stands, walking around his desk before leaning against it and watching Steven’s face closely.
The man’s face flushes, and he licks his lip before he says, “Almost sir. I think… I think there’s someone else.”
~~~
“I see,” Mark says, the words cold and clipped, and Steven flinches. Steven swallows hard when Mark reaches over for his cane and gestures for Steven to get into position. “I shall have to teach you to try harder next time, then, won’t I?”
cyphersushi
Cowboy!au, JDM + Steve, ‘What have you brought to my door, boy?’:
Continued from here.
Steven maybe should have expected such a cold greeting, seein’ as he’s standing on Morgan’s porch half a day late and carryin’ a half dead Cherokee, let alone this Cherokee, where there ain’t no doubt in Morgan’s expression he’s seein’ what everyone says is a horse thief, but he can’t help scowling.
“Ya just gonna let him bleed to death all over me, then, cos I ain’t never thought you were that kinda bastard.”
Morgan ain’t happy -that’s as clear as gunsmoke in an open field- but he pushes the door wider and gets his boys to clear a cot; it’s in the back, where the old man used to keep his slaves, but it’ll do.
Leverage/Burn Notice, Eliot/Michael, "Santa costumes? How did you piss off Sam this time?":
Eliot has to bite his tongue to keep from laughing when he opens the box (well, until he realizes there’s two suits in there) and raises an eyebrow at Michael before asking, “What the hell’d you do to Sam?”
“Nothing,” Mike says in the way that someone that knew nothing about him or spies or conmen would take for a straight answer, but after a beat and a swallow of yogurt he relents with, “much.”
Some days Eliot could almost, almost hear Hardison laughing his ass off at him, and he doesn’t bother resisting the urge to bang his head against the counter.
Cowboy!au, Kane, confusion:
He wakes with a start, heart racing like a herd of horses through a valley, and he’d sit up, he’d run if he could, but even inclining his head makes him dizzy enough to feel it in his toes, so that his only comfort is that his fear, still cold in his veins, was from a dream alone. He breathes, deep even breaths like his grandfather taught him, and tries to catch his bearings beyond the spike of pain in his side and the sweat of his skin; he’s in a room, small but clean and with a window to his right, on a cot that’s nearly comfortable and certainly more comfortable than the ground, and across the way is a door that stands open, letting in the smells of bacon and coffee… as well as the man he’d found in the darkness.
“Easy now,” the man says, almost sounding gentle, “ain’t nobody gonna hurt’cha here, and ain’t no cause to pull your stitches.
Leverage, Eliot/Hardison/Parker, Stocking stuffers:
The second he sees the red velvet stockings carefully pinned along the top of his television set, Eliot is worried; Hardison just grins wide and bumps his shoulder as if to say c’mon, man, it’s just gonna be a wad of cash but Eliot’s not so sure. Parker’s been weirder than usual lately, asking questions that are on the one hand probing (damn Sophie and her lessons) but on the other make no sense that Eliot can make heads or tails of.
Eliot isn’t expecting the small wooden case that slides out, that it’s well oiled and old looking, and he certainly isn’t expecting the antique blade inside, obviously from a private collection; from the small sound Hardison just made, Parker put a lot more thought into Christmas than any of them gave her credit for.
Leverage, Eliot/Hardison/Parker, Parker goes christmas shopping:
Parker knows that Sophie said the way she does her Christmas shopping is wrong, but then Sophie and Nate acquired (she makes the quotes motion as she walks, because that’s what Hardison said she should do) their presents and Parker figures this is one of those fuzzy lines (she wiggles her fingers again) Nate always talks about.
“Y’know you’re only s’posed to do that when you’re talking out loud, right?” Eliot asks, giving her that look he does when she’s being weird, but he doesn’t make her put back the jewelry she’d lifted for Sophie so it can’t be that bad. “C’mon, we’d better go rescue the electronics store from Hardison, or he’ll buy himself his presents and you’ll be stuck buyin’ his sorry ass orange soda an’ those gummy things of his.”
Steampunk!AU, Author's Choice, An evening of simple pleasures:
Jefferey hides his smile behind his mug while one of his boys adds more wood to the bonfire; Hutton’s new man -Olyphant, he thinks- is fitting in just fine, a fact which seems to be smoothing out Christian’s fears about Master Carlson being present at so “low” a gathering, nevermind Steven’s own eagerness to attend. A simple meal cooked over an open flame and plenty stories of adventure (or misadventure, in Christian’s case) paved the way for laughter and easy companionship, and now that the sun is setting, Olyphant and the others are convincing the two musician’s to play something for them.
He pities Lord Hutton, who is unfortunately detained at a much more formal, much less interesting dinner party.
Steampunk!AU. Timothy Olyphant, New city, new possibilities:
Mister Olyphant takes a moment to take in the city before the airship moves in to dock; he makes his way down the gangway with the other passengers but can’t help feeling he has a greater sense of purpose and direction, especially when he nears the bottom and realizes there is a driver and carriage waiting for him.
“If I may sir,” the driver says, taking his bag and sliding it inside before opening the door for him, “Lord Hutton will meet you there presently.”
“Thank you kindly,” Timothy says, smiling, and climbs inside, marveling that he has managed to find employment with a man who can not only afford a horseless carriage, but finds them largely acceptable.
serenelystrange:
Leverage, Parker/Eliot/Hardison, finger puppets:
“This,” Eliot growls in the tone he uses when he wants Hardison to pay really close attention, “is what happens when you leave Parker stuck in a kindergarten craft closet all day!”
There had been a number of very good reasons why Hardison couldn’t save Parker immediately, the most important of which was a bomb, thank you very much, and the second most important was Sophie going all kindergarten teacher and not wanting to scare the kiddies (and whose attempts at teaching them Art and Self probably sunk into Parker’s head sideways). Needless to say, Parker pilfered an awful lot of excess craft materials and was putting them to good use… mostly utilizing the coffee table, end table, and part of the entertainment center in Eliot’s living room.
~~~
To be fair, though, Eliot could look a lot grumpier; mostly it’s just that he can’t watch the game, which he’s gotten used to when Parker’s around, but she’s also usually distracting him with things a lot more… athletic… than crafts. Parker chooses that moment to look up, grinning wide and waving at them with a fistful of brown yarn and what may or may not be glitter.
“You see that smile, man, you can’t even tell me you want me to stop her, unless you’re set on breaking her heart?”
~~~
Eliot huffs, throws up his hands, and totally, absolutely, does not stomp into the kitchen to make dinner. Which means, of course, that he misses Parker “practicing” - one finger with a big smiley face and yellow yarn for hair, one finger with a surprisingly accurate replica of one of Hardison’s t-shirts and a smile drawn on with brown marker, and another finger with long brown hair, a dark t-shirt and an angry smiley face being pressed together in long smooth motions.
“What,” Parker asks when she looks up again, and Hardison realizes that Eliot’s stepped in from the kitchen, cheeks turning a little pink and staring at her hands, “isn’t this what you’re supposed to do with finger puppets?”
Note: Things I couldn’t find a smooth way of fitting in to the story - the perfect replica of a Glenn-Rieder Prestige safe, of Nate’s apartment, and the layout of her favorite bank in Boston, plus all of Sophie’s costumes that Parker thought were pretty, plus finger sized rappelling gear and the materials Parker thinks she’d need to make finger sized computers for Hardison.
canadiangoddess:
BSG/RPS - Starbuck/Kane - things a storage rack has seen (when no one else is looking):
Starbuck kicks the hatch shut behind her and advances on the knuckle dragger with predatory glee, fingers already working hard at her jock smock and more than frakking ready to burn off some adrenaline; not that Kane isn’t ready for her -frak but the mother frakker’s fast for a gods damned snipe- and he’s got her pinned up against the shelving, already pulling at the clothes under her flight suit to find skin. She lets him for a little while, riding his fingers while he smirks against her skin, but she can feel his cock where he’s pressed against her thigh and she shoves him back hard, sweeping his feet out from under him and all but pouncing on him, peeling his jump suit away and trying to decide if she’s going to tease him before she fraks him.
He growls, pulling at her, and she laughs; this might not be what either of them really want, but right now it’ll hit the spot.
Leverage/Justified - Eliot/Raylan - is that your blood or mine? (does it really matter?):
“Don’t matter none,” Eliot says, tries to laugh and ends up coughing instead, and Raylan can’t help thinkin’ that the way the blood is smeared on his teeth looks far too attractive for a moment like this, but then, maybe it’s the blood loss talking, “seein’ as we’re outnumbered.”
“We ain’t Butch an’ Sundance,” Raylan musters; it’s as close to optimism as a man can get, time like this, and leastways Eliot smiles.
“Preachin’ to the choir, man, but yu just shoot straight an’ maybe…”
Sandman/Firefly - Wash & Death - take my hand and lead me to salvation (go not quietly into that good night):
“Wh…what, no, no no no, not like, you can’t… no, this isn’t the way it works, isn’t the way I die, I can’t, can’t, Zoe needs me
… Serenity needs me, I can’t…” Wash says, running out of metaphorical breath as he looks down at himself, run through now, now after pulling off all that.
“I know,” She says from beside him, smiling sadly and holding out a hand. “For what it’s worth, that’s the best landing I’ve seen in millenia, but it’s time to go now.”
Waiter!AU - Christmas Eve ain't quite Christmas Morning (but it'll have to do):
There’s a resounding and repetitive bang on the door that has Christian jumping up, despite having been incredibly comfortable with his head in Steve’s lap just a heartbeat before; he answers Steven’s door, more than a little excited, and manages to look at least marginally apologetic when he glances over his shoulder.
“Didn’t want’m delivered til tomorrow,” he says, dragging and pushing everything in Steve’s direction, “but it didn’t matter what I offered, they weren’t gonna deliver on Christmas day. Go on, then, open’m!”
KaneRPS, Chris/Steve - breaking in the tour bus (your bunk or mine?):
“Didn’t say a damn word about bunks,” Kane says with a smirk, pressing in close so that Steve has to walk backward up the steps or fall over on them, only to be turned and pushed and tackled to the floor; he hasn’t even got time to breathe before Christian’s rubbing at him through his jeans and trying to leave marks on Steve’s neck. “Figure we start at the front, work our way back, make every inch of this bus ours.”
If Steve plans on complaining it’s going to have to wait because Chris is already scrambling his brain through his cock, clever fingers working him in the ways only Kane has ever managed, only to pull away, pull him up and bend him over the table.
DocWho/Wolverine - 10 & Logan - they are neither of them immortal, but they'll both be there at the end of all things (who else would understand?):
The Doctor has always believed in no spoilers, but it’s awfully hard for that to be true as a Time Lord; there’s just some things, some people, that you can’t miss, that you can’t avoid for long, that you can’t ever deny.
Jack was one, and now there’s this Logan, and the Doctor can tell just with a look this won’t be the last time they’ll meet, that there is no last time they’ll meet, except for The Last Time for everything, everyone, when the Universe closes it’s doors and all existence finds out What’s Next. Logan looks marginally surprised that he buys him a drink, but grunts in thanks, eyeing him like he can tell; for as long as he’s been around, he can probably tell like from like.
DocWho/Firefly - 10 & Inara - Inara's been every kind of Companion (it isn't always about sex):
She has never spoken of what drew her away from the Guild House and Sinhon, not to other Companions and certainly not to the passengers or crew of Serenity, and neither does she meditate upon it, but there are times, in the quiet of the Black, that Serenity will hum just so, that in the hustling bustle of the Rim worlds she’ll see just the edge of a building that looks a little too blue, and her heart will skip a beat (though if she were to confess, truthfully it thunders, a stampede of oxen in the bowels of a ship, churning for what’s been lost).
He showed her things that she can’t rightly put words to, things that changed her… the birth of suns and the death of whole galaxies, Earth that Was and the Earth that would come to be, and worlds and people’s so fine she felt small and dirty. She might have stayed with him for longer (for forever) but he could see in his eyes she wasn’t what he needed, however much he needed her wonder, her hope; a Companion’s greatest gift has always been to give those around her what they need…
phantisma:
Kane RPS, Chris/author's choice, gave me a what?:
For the purposes of this set of ficlets you’ll need to handwave exotic pet laws, or assume he’s also being given all the appropriate registrations/certificates of ownership etc required, even for states that would otherwise ban things.
“You… what?” Christian asks, cos he couldn’t have heard that right; ain’t no way he heard it right, cos surely owning a freakin’ wolf can’t be legal. He shakes his head, backing away from the animal crate that Case sets down -he knew his friend was crazy but seriously this is a whole new level of somethin’, even for her- and says, “Y’know I can’t even take care of myself and you expect me to-”
But then she’s handing over a smallish dark brown ball of fur with big round gray eyes and it’s whimpering at him and licking his face and whatever argument Christian thought he had melts away.
~~~
“His name is Frisco,” Case says, and Chris would swear on his mama that she was smirking -not that he tears his eyes away from the pup long enough to check- as sets out some other supplies, “and you are all he has in the world because he was separated from the pack and now they won’t accept him.” If she notices that he holds Frisco a little tighter she doesn’t say anything. “I’ll leave you two to bond now, but if you need anything, there’s a few numbers in the folder with his paperwork.”
Kane RPS, Chris + Frisco, inseperable:
Follows “gave me what?”
Bonding might have been just a little bit of an understatement, really (ok, fine, it’s a goddamn litotes) cos before Chris really thinks to notice Frisco’s been snuggled up to him to sleep every night and going for runs every morning and on Chris’ lunch break he’s sneaking the pup bits of red meat like they’d never not been together. It really only sinks in when he tries to bring Frisco into Powell’s and the cashier politely tells him the dog has to stay outside; he doesn’t argue with her (though, ok, ok, he does say he’ll keep Frisco on his leash and keep’m close) and ties him outside.
But he doesn’t browse the way he’d originally meant to, just beelines straight to what he knows he wants and fidgets when he has to wait in line, and when he gets back outside Frisco is fussing and whining and can’t nuzzle him fast enough.
Kane RPS, Chris + Frisco, a little rest:
Chris scrubs a hand over his face and tries not to wince, cos between the aches in his knees and his back and the way his arm sort of tingles from his day old stubble he can already tell it’s gonna be a long ass day; he finally rouses himself enough to try to stand, but a growl and a firm tug send him sprawling back onto the bed, at which point Frisco settles on his chest, chuffing at him. There’s a whistle, and Frisco darting away, only to come trotting back bearing a bottle of Nyquil just as Chris is starting to sit up again.
“Is this some kin’a hint?” he shouts, or tries to anyway, and even through the fog inside his head he doesn’t miss how Frisco and Steve huff at him in the same way.
~~~
“You do realize normal people wouldn’t need hints, right?” Steve asks, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. “Now are you gonna take your medicine and go back to sleep like a good boy, or is Frisco gonna have to hold you down?”
Chris opens his mouth to argue, but Steve raises an eyebrow at him and Frisco growls, so he decides just to grumble and fight with the Nyquil bottle instead.