comment_fic #2
Collecting ficlets all in the same place again. Written for comment_fic
Criminal Minds, Hotch and Garcia, "System malfunctioned. Blast it, this damn machine!"
Hotch hesitated at the door to Garcia's lab, blinking into the gloom. The monitors on the desk glowed steadily back at him, except for one. Garcia was on the floor, elbow deep in computer parts and wire. She had a small screwdriver tucked behind one ear and her glasses were threatening to slip off her nose.
"System malfunction," she snarled, "I'll show you a system malfunction. When I get you working again you will be praying to the computer gods for mercy." She paused to push her glasses back up her nose and looked hopefully at the blank screen. It remained stubbornly dark.
"Blast it, this damn machine!" she said and jabbed the screwdriver into the guts of the computer with such force that Hotch flinched. She whirled towards him, surprised.
"Trouble?" he asked, stepping fully into the room.
"No," she lied. "Well, yes. Well, nothing I can't handle." She sent a glare sideways at the computer.
"I'm sure," Hotch said neutrally. He walked carefully around her to get to the desk that held the miscreant computer. He tapped a couple times on the keyboard, then rapped sharply on the side of the screen with his fingers. Light stuttered briefly across the dark screen, then it glowed softly to life.
He looked down at Garcia. She was staring at him open mouthed. The screwdriver slipped from her fingers and clattered across the floor.
"Don't look too surprised," he said, "How do you think I fixed my computer before I knew you?"
Doctor Who, Wee!Amy Pond, Only the Doctor was allowed to call her Amelia.
(Slight edit from original posting because I didn't do my homework.)
Before Amelia was seven, she didn't like her name. She was named for her great-great grandmother and she thought it old and unwieldy. The boys down the street agreed with her. When she walked to school, they tugged her hair and sang her name in a drawn-out nasal sneer.
Then a man with a box crashed into her garden and made her into a fairytale while he dipped fish fingers into custard and she ate ice cream.
"That's a brilliant name," he said, and for the first time ever, she began to think that it was.
The Doctor might not look like people, but he acted like them. He didn't come back in five minutes or five hours and by then her aunt was home and she had to go inside, unpack and change her clothes. She stomped from one room to the other, slamming drawers shut and throwing the suitcase into a corner where it crashed against the wall and sprang open.
"Amelia Jessica Pond, stop making such a racket!" her aunt yelled up the stairs from the kitchen.
She expected something of her name now, but her aunt just sounded old and tired and annoyed. She knew what it was like to be a fairytale, but no one else did. Her aunt didn't even believe about the crack in the wall. No, the Doctor was the only one in the world who could say her name correctly, so she would keep it for him.
"My name," she yelled back, "Is Amy!"
Doctor Who, wee!Amy, fairy tales and imaginary friends in the real world. Or, how Amy tries to prove that the Doctor is real.
When her aunt came home and found her in the garden, Amelia took her by the hand and tried to show her the indentations in the dirt that looked straight and square, but her aunt took one look at the ruins of her shed and let out a shrieked "Amelia, what did you do?" like it was her fault.
Clearly this was going to be more difficult that Amelia had anticipated.
She tried Rory and Jeff instead. Well, Rory at least. Jeff was too busy climbing a tree to peek into the neighbor's window to listen. When she was finished, Rory gave her such a long look that she suddenly stood up straight.
"You look like him," she said, "Sort of funny looking."
Rory flushed red. "I do not," he said and refused to talk to her all day long.
The next day, she walked to the police station after school. After all, the box did say police on it. The woman on duty declared her the cutest thing on two legs and drove her home, but didn't take her seriously when she asked for the time traveling division. In fact, she didn't even take notes.
The policewoman spent a long time talking to her aunt, who then spent another long time on the phone with her friend who was a doctor. Amelia lay on her bed, listening to the rumble of conversation under her and chewed on the inside of her lip. She knew there had to be some evidence left behind, but everything she tried turned up empty.
So in a fit of desperation, Amelia took a hammer to the crack in her wall. It was a bit of a surprise to stare into the insulation through a haze of plaster dust, but she didn't let it bother her much. She knew that's how stories worked. You never found the proof until you got to the happy ending.
Criminal Minds, Hotch and Garcia, "System malfunctioned. Blast it, this damn machine!"
Hotch hesitated at the door to Garcia's lab, blinking into the gloom. The monitors on the desk glowed steadily back at him, except for one. Garcia was on the floor, elbow deep in computer parts and wire. She had a small screwdriver tucked behind one ear and her glasses were threatening to slip off her nose.
"System malfunction," she snarled, "I'll show you a system malfunction. When I get you working again you will be praying to the computer gods for mercy." She paused to push her glasses back up her nose and looked hopefully at the blank screen. It remained stubbornly dark.
"Blast it, this damn machine!" she said and jabbed the screwdriver into the guts of the computer with such force that Hotch flinched. She whirled towards him, surprised.
"Trouble?" he asked, stepping fully into the room.
"No," she lied. "Well, yes. Well, nothing I can't handle." She sent a glare sideways at the computer.
"I'm sure," Hotch said neutrally. He walked carefully around her to get to the desk that held the miscreant computer. He tapped a couple times on the keyboard, then rapped sharply on the side of the screen with his fingers. Light stuttered briefly across the dark screen, then it glowed softly to life.
He looked down at Garcia. She was staring at him open mouthed. The screwdriver slipped from her fingers and clattered across the floor.
"Don't look too surprised," he said, "How do you think I fixed my computer before I knew you?"
Doctor Who, Wee!Amy Pond, Only the Doctor was allowed to call her Amelia.
(Slight edit from original posting because I didn't do my homework.)
Before Amelia was seven, she didn't like her name. She was named for her great-great grandmother and she thought it old and unwieldy. The boys down the street agreed with her. When she walked to school, they tugged her hair and sang her name in a drawn-out nasal sneer.
Then a man with a box crashed into her garden and made her into a fairytale while he dipped fish fingers into custard and she ate ice cream.
"That's a brilliant name," he said, and for the first time ever, she began to think that it was.
The Doctor might not look like people, but he acted like them. He didn't come back in five minutes or five hours and by then her aunt was home and she had to go inside, unpack and change her clothes. She stomped from one room to the other, slamming drawers shut and throwing the suitcase into a corner where it crashed against the wall and sprang open.
"Amelia Jessica Pond, stop making such a racket!" her aunt yelled up the stairs from the kitchen.
She expected something of her name now, but her aunt just sounded old and tired and annoyed. She knew what it was like to be a fairytale, but no one else did. Her aunt didn't even believe about the crack in the wall. No, the Doctor was the only one in the world who could say her name correctly, so she would keep it for him.
"My name," she yelled back, "Is Amy!"
Doctor Who, wee!Amy, fairy tales and imaginary friends in the real world. Or, how Amy tries to prove that the Doctor is real.
When her aunt came home and found her in the garden, Amelia took her by the hand and tried to show her the indentations in the dirt that looked straight and square, but her aunt took one look at the ruins of her shed and let out a shrieked "Amelia, what did you do?" like it was her fault.
Clearly this was going to be more difficult that Amelia had anticipated.
She tried Rory and Jeff instead. Well, Rory at least. Jeff was too busy climbing a tree to peek into the neighbor's window to listen. When she was finished, Rory gave her such a long look that she suddenly stood up straight.
"You look like him," she said, "Sort of funny looking."
Rory flushed red. "I do not," he said and refused to talk to her all day long.
The next day, she walked to the police station after school. After all, the box did say police on it. The woman on duty declared her the cutest thing on two legs and drove her home, but didn't take her seriously when she asked for the time traveling division. In fact, she didn't even take notes.
The policewoman spent a long time talking to her aunt, who then spent another long time on the phone with her friend who was a doctor. Amelia lay on her bed, listening to the rumble of conversation under her and chewed on the inside of her lip. She knew there had to be some evidence left behind, but everything she tried turned up empty.
So in a fit of desperation, Amelia took a hammer to the crack in her wall. It was a bit of a surprise to stare into the insulation through a haze of plaster dust, but she didn't let it bother her much. She knew that's how stories worked. You never found the proof until you got to the happy ending.