I am full of madness (or, a fic prompt post)
Stolen from nix_this, because . . . turnabout is fair play? IDEK. I think just because I'm crazy. XD
The first ten people to comment in this post get to request that I write a drabble/ficlet of any pairing/character of their choosing. (Fair warning, though: if you choose a pairing I'm not into myself, your return will likely be shorter. XD) In return, ( Read more... )
The first ten people to comment in this post get to request that I write a drabble/ficlet of any pairing/character of their choosing. (Fair warning, though: if you choose a pairing I'm not into myself, your return will likely be shorter. XD) In return, ( Read more... )
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or um, I guess Kirk being jealous of Spock's pet? I don't really know o///o
Why aren't you doing Sherlock? I'm not trying to accuse, I'm just wondering why you didn't pick it when you have a history of writing it.
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So yeah, if you decide you'd rather have Sherlock, it's totally on the table. XD
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P.S. Any particular universe/prompt you'd like?
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*ponders*
I am going to cheerfully ignore what you said up there and demand Holmes/Watson from the ORIGINAL STORIES. Further, I am going to be terribly predictable and prompt for h/c after Watson got hurt because Holmes got caught up in a case.
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Okay, not really. XD So long as it's m'boys, I'll write you some original Holmes/Watson, last names and all.
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Although I do have something already in my head in the original 'verse. A couple of things, actually. One of them is mean. o.o
I shall have to give this some thought!
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Teeth grinding, I snatched up the phone, stabbed Ignore, and tossed it back down.
"Just answer the bloody thing," Sathrana said, lifting her head to glare at me. I picked up my novel again.
"No."
She sighed and put her head back down. "You're being childish."
"No, I'm simply refusing to enable him any longer."
"That's the sixth text in twenty minutes. Maybe he's out on a case."
"He hasn't had a case in over a week. Why do you think he's entertaining himself by torturing me like this?"
"He might need you."
I snorted. "Need me to make him a cuppa, maybe, because he can't be bothered to do it himself."
Po pi po pi po po pi po!
Ignore.
"If you're not going to answer it, why don't you just turn the damned thing off?"
"The hospital might call." I turned a page without quite taking in the whole thing. I'd read this one before, anyway. "Or Sarah. Or any number of other people; I do have a life beyond this flat and Sherlock Bloody Holmes, you know ( ... )
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"Bloody Sherlock!" I stabbed Ignore so hard this time that I heard something inside the phone give a worrying creak.
"Her daemon was eying us the last time time we were in," Sathrana pressed. "I know they'd be interested. We'll fight, you'll fuck, and we'll all end up a hell of a lot more relaxed."
"You're filthy."
"And you need to get laid."
She was right, of course, which was the most frustrating part. With the war, and the injury, and the PTSD, and the madness that apparently came part and parcel with being Sherlock Holmes's flatmate, it had been entirely too damned long since I'd had the relief of anything beyond my own hand. Things with Sarah were still murky at best. Still . . .
"Remind me how, exactly, we got on this subject?" I asked wearily, and as if on cue:
Po pi po pi po po pi po!The phone sat on the bed, bright synthesized music jangling cheerily on when I made no move to silence it. I stared at the thing, and an odd buzzing sensation began at the back of my head. Sherlock. Bloody ( ... )
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I think I have an idea for said prompt . . .
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“I'm really glad you have the chance to see the ship.” Jim grinned happily at the older of the Spocks where he stood next to his younger, stiffer counterpart. “Not the same in dry dock as when she's actually on the move, but . . .” He shrugged. “Anyway! One of the Rigelian ambassador's aides left a ton of these as thanks, and I thought you might like some. As a memento.”
Both Spocks eyed the ornately carved box that Jim held out with a wary gaze. “Captain,” the younger of them said, “perhaps you are unaware that chocolate, to a Vulcan, is-”
“A thoughtful and appreciated gesture,” the ambassador interrupted smoothly as he took the box. “You have my thanks, Jim.”
Busy trying to ignore the warm fluttering sensation in his chest that sprang up whenever Spock-any Spock-used his name, Jim almost didn't notice the disapproving, almost sullen look on his first officer's face.
Almost.
2. Clothes“Are, ah . . .” Jim hesitated. “Are those the only clothes you brought ( ... )
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“Fuck.”
Jim looked over just in time to see Spock raise an eyebrow at him. A perfectly cool, calm and collected eyebrow. Fucker.
“It was not necessary for you to accompany me,” he said for what had to be the eight-thousandth time since they'd beamed down. Jim just glared at him.
“Know it wasn't-necessary-fuck, hold on, I need to just . . .” Jim gestured vaguely at a large rock approximately two seconds before he collapsed onto it, struggling for breath as he pulled out his canteen. “I didn't realize it would be this hot.” He drank, fought for breath again. “Or that the air would be this thin ( ... )
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