Happy (belated) birthday Koryou and Elebridith!
Happy (totally late I'm so sorry) birthday my lovelies! It's been wonderful getting to know you two. Our random conversations (and being up too late, oops?) have been a highlight in my day. I love you guys. ♥
We'll start with koryou, who wanted all of hers to be parts of a conversation between Clay (The Losers) and Lestrade (Sherlock). :)
Genius and Madness:
"You don't know madness til you're in the middle of a hot zone and you've got a hyper-caffeinated hacker breaking down the opposition's weaponry while cackling like a goddamn madman in your ear," Clay says, unable to hold back the chuckle as he sips his beer.
"I wouldn't be so sure," Lestrade says, looking skeptical, "after all, have you ever seen a grown man skip about, entirely pleased with himself about being correct as to the existence and involvement of a serial killer, especially when intelligent?"
Clay just shakes his head.
Trust your sociopath, he knows what he's doing:
Lestrade pauses a moment to let it sink in, though he's not sure he needs to.
"Y'know," Clay says, and he sounds amused despite the way he doesn't meet Lestrade's eyes, "Cougar's saved my sorry ass more times than I can count; Aisha too."
Trust is like a thread for these people, tying them together but so easily snapped, and Lestrade isn't really sure that a man like Clay can know what he means.
It's like a NC-17 rated kindergarten:
"You just hope you can get everyone to play nice," Clay says, by now more than a little buzzed, "and by play nice, I mean following my goddamn orders so everything doesn't literally explode, fucked to hell and back, and shit, the fucking part might be literal too." He doesn't bring some things up, like Jensen's childish antics, or Cougar's ineffable ability with women, or fucking Aisha... just... the lack of control in some situations...
"Sometimes you just want to put them all in time out, cuffed down to be sure they behave, and tape over their mouths to keep them from--" Lestrade gestures, instead of finishing, but Clay can only nod avidly because yes, exactly.
Things that go boom:
Lestrade takes a long drink while Clay just stares at him, his eyebrows up and eyes dark with a mixture of surprise and concern; he's gotten used to that expression in this last little while, and the way no one around them wants to have to say the name Moriarty. "I suppose you could say his presence is volatile, and Sherlock has certainly taken it personally."
"No shit," Clay says, pausing for a second with an expression like he may make an offer, but instead goes on with, "Now, you wanna talk about volatile..."
Their token normal guys are actually rather extraordinary:
"You have a very strange definition of normal," Lestrade says, though when he considers what it is precisely he himself considers normal, he thinks perhaps he ought to have that next round after all. Which turns into him saying, "At least I've got Anderson and Donovan, because honestly, I think the proper part of our cases would all fall apart in court if it weren't for them; quick on their feet, and to try and keep Sherlock in line, not that it helps much..."
"They're more than a little apt," Clay says, "only seem slow because he's standing there, but they're just as good, I'm sure."
And now for my dear elebridith:
Leverage/Firefly, Hardison, Jayne, 'You did what?':
"You... you..." Hardison just sputters, staring at the console, or what was his console, his beautiful, shiny, well wired, perfectly programmed, glorious piece of machinery, and now... now...
"What?" Jayne says, his mouth so full of apple Hardison can feel it on his face. "Was it important or somethin'?"
Elsewhere verse, Chris/Steve, 'Would you believe there's a guy out there who has your face?':
They're a little bit drunk --and who wouldn't be, after a damn fine gig like that, and watching a damn near fuckin' doppleganger beat the shit outta some fuck was about t'beat the shit outta you?-- and when Steve says it... well, Chris can't help giggling.
"What, I'm seriou, seriously... er, serious, Chris, who'd have thought, I mean, your face but... with... and..." Steve tries to say, gesturing with his hands like it makes any kind of sense.
Christian can only huff out a laugh and kiss him.
Waiter!AU, Chris/Steve, 'No, that's not a proper spice.':
Steve laughs at the look on Christian's face when he says that, but just shakes his head and kisses him in an effort to chase the pout away. "Technically it's an herb, not a spice, cos it's from a leafy green and not... not..."
"Fine then, Mr. Know-It-All," Chris says, pressing close and his hands moving to completely short circuit Steve's brain, "I'll show you spicy..."
Leverage, Alec/Eliot, the latest geek movie:
"--and I'm telling you, man, telling you, I don't care how hot January Jones is, man, White Queen was a freakin' bad guy, get it, straight up villainess til Morrison gets his hands on her, and it's cool now, y'know, but you can't just decide, oh, she's hot, she's on the team now, we'll just drop her in and ain't nobody gonna know the difference cos I... what?"
Eliot just stares at Hardison for a long moment, because in most instances he doesn't bother to try and keep up but this time the kid seems to care and he's not really sure where this whole speech came from. "What happened to that... Tron... thing you kept babbling about before?"
Kane RPS, Chris/Steve, foot rub:
Steve moans, his head falling back onto the pillow as he covers his face with his hands, feeling more and more boneless as Chris goes. "Fuck... just... fuck, Chris."
"If I knew you were that easy, darlin'," Chris says, stroking his thumbs down the sole of Steve's foot, "I'da been given you massages all along."
We'll start with koryou, who wanted all of hers to be parts of a conversation between Clay (The Losers) and Lestrade (Sherlock). :)
Genius and Madness:
"You don't know madness til you're in the middle of a hot zone and you've got a hyper-caffeinated hacker breaking down the opposition's weaponry while cackling like a goddamn madman in your ear," Clay says, unable to hold back the chuckle as he sips his beer.
"I wouldn't be so sure," Lestrade says, looking skeptical, "after all, have you ever seen a grown man skip about, entirely pleased with himself about being correct as to the existence and involvement of a serial killer, especially when intelligent?"
Clay just shakes his head.
Trust your sociopath, he knows what he's doing:
Lestrade pauses a moment to let it sink in, though he's not sure he needs to.
"Y'know," Clay says, and he sounds amused despite the way he doesn't meet Lestrade's eyes, "Cougar's saved my sorry ass more times than I can count; Aisha too."
Trust is like a thread for these people, tying them together but so easily snapped, and Lestrade isn't really sure that a man like Clay can know what he means.
It's like a NC-17 rated kindergarten:
"You just hope you can get everyone to play nice," Clay says, by now more than a little buzzed, "and by play nice, I mean following my goddamn orders so everything doesn't literally explode, fucked to hell and back, and shit, the fucking part might be literal too." He doesn't bring some things up, like Jensen's childish antics, or Cougar's ineffable ability with women, or fucking Aisha... just... the lack of control in some situations...
"Sometimes you just want to put them all in time out, cuffed down to be sure they behave, and tape over their mouths to keep them from--" Lestrade gestures, instead of finishing, but Clay can only nod avidly because yes, exactly.
Things that go boom:
Lestrade takes a long drink while Clay just stares at him, his eyebrows up and eyes dark with a mixture of surprise and concern; he's gotten used to that expression in this last little while, and the way no one around them wants to have to say the name Moriarty. "I suppose you could say his presence is volatile, and Sherlock has certainly taken it personally."
"No shit," Clay says, pausing for a second with an expression like he may make an offer, but instead goes on with, "Now, you wanna talk about volatile..."
Their token normal guys are actually rather extraordinary:
"You have a very strange definition of normal," Lestrade says, though when he considers what it is precisely he himself considers normal, he thinks perhaps he ought to have that next round after all. Which turns into him saying, "At least I've got Anderson and Donovan, because honestly, I think the proper part of our cases would all fall apart in court if it weren't for them; quick on their feet, and to try and keep Sherlock in line, not that it helps much..."
"They're more than a little apt," Clay says, "only seem slow because he's standing there, but they're just as good, I'm sure."
And now for my dear elebridith:
Leverage/Firefly, Hardison, Jayne, 'You did what?':
"You... you..." Hardison just sputters, staring at the console, or what was his console, his beautiful, shiny, well wired, perfectly programmed, glorious piece of machinery, and now... now...
"What?" Jayne says, his mouth so full of apple Hardison can feel it on his face. "Was it important or somethin'?"
Elsewhere verse, Chris/Steve, 'Would you believe there's a guy out there who has your face?':
They're a little bit drunk --and who wouldn't be, after a damn fine gig like that, and watching a damn near fuckin' doppleganger beat the shit outta some fuck was about t'beat the shit outta you?-- and when Steve says it... well, Chris can't help giggling.
"What, I'm seriou, seriously... er, serious, Chris, who'd have thought, I mean, your face but... with... and..." Steve tries to say, gesturing with his hands like it makes any kind of sense.
Christian can only huff out a laugh and kiss him.
Waiter!AU, Chris/Steve, 'No, that's not a proper spice.':
Steve laughs at the look on Christian's face when he says that, but just shakes his head and kisses him in an effort to chase the pout away. "Technically it's an herb, not a spice, cos it's from a leafy green and not... not..."
"Fine then, Mr. Know-It-All," Chris says, pressing close and his hands moving to completely short circuit Steve's brain, "I'll show you spicy..."
Leverage, Alec/Eliot, the latest geek movie:
"--and I'm telling you, man, telling you, I don't care how hot January Jones is, man, White Queen was a freakin' bad guy, get it, straight up villainess til Morrison gets his hands on her, and it's cool now, y'know, but you can't just decide, oh, she's hot, she's on the team now, we'll just drop her in and ain't nobody gonna know the difference cos I... what?"
Eliot just stares at Hardison for a long moment, because in most instances he doesn't bother to try and keep up but this time the kid seems to care and he's not really sure where this whole speech came from. "What happened to that... Tron... thing you kept babbling about before?"
Kane RPS, Chris/Steve, foot rub:
Steve moans, his head falling back onto the pillow as he covers his face with his hands, feeling more and more boneless as Chris goes. "Fuck... just... fuck, Chris."
"If I knew you were that easy, darlin'," Chris says, stroking his thumbs down the sole of Steve's foot, "I'da been given you massages all along."