Meme from lost_spook
I actually did this about an hour after I saw it on my flist, courtesy lost_spook and then promptly forgot I'd written anything at all.
1: Pick five fandoms. List them in alphabetical order.
1. Elementary
2. Leverage
3. Motive
4. Person of Interest
5. Spooks
2: Visit this site to find your first RANDOM POEM OF POWER. Write down the 5th line (yes, even if it's an E.E. Cummings poem and you wind up with an apostrophe). Repeat five times and - you guessed it - list 'em in alphabetical order! (No cheating, mind! This is a challenge and it's always been about creativity.)
3: I think you can see where this is going. Write a very quick 50-word half-drabble for each fandom (try to do it all in one sitting - make your brain explode!), using the line from the poem as a prompt. You don't have to include it in the half-drabble - it's just inspiration.
4: Bravo! Have a cookie.
1. Elementary "and certainly unworthy words to hear" (not a clue)
"I really don't think this is the time for this." Joan hisses the words out of the side of her mouth, trying not to look like she's speaking at all.
From her side, there's a shrug, more felt than seen -- the lighting is dim, but their captors are definitely keeping a keen eye on them. "It's the perfect time for it, Watson. Even you must realize that there is a point where an apology becomes useless."
"Sherlock, you can't just apologize because you think they're going to shoot us." She manages to sound annoyed as well as almost-touched at the same time, there. She feels a little proud of herself for that.
"Don't worry, I'm sure Detective Bell is just round the corner. But I feel engendered to also offer an apology for getting us into this. At least, partly. I suppose if I had listened to you we wouldn't be here."
Joan rolls her eyes at that. Of course they probably would have been where they were if he'd listened to her--his idea had just been more expedient than hers. Both would have had the same outcome. But she figures he knows that, and so doesn't see the point in reminding him of it. "Now is really not the time."
A harrumph escapes him. "Now is exactly the time. Watson, I do apologize for meddling in your personal life. Next time, I will not attempt to find out more about the man you're meeting for coffee."
"Thank you," is really all she can say.
Which is when Bell and his back-up break down the door, saving her from having to admit to Sherlock that she might have already thought that her current coffee-date was some sort of hitman with ties to the mob. She was just planning on making certain of it rather than confronting him, getting caught, and needing a rescue.
2. Leverage "g" (thank you, ee cummings)
"That's your code-name? No, Parker, girl--look, you can't just choose a letter as your codename."
"Why not? It works in the movies--there's Q, you know. And P, R, S--"
"James Bond is not reality," Hardison objected, ignoring the smirk on Eliot's face that said he knew that Hardison had already lost this argument and it was his own fault for treating Parker to that date-night with Bond. Just because Eliot didn't like Brosnan was no call to be smug, really.
Parker shrugged, "I don't care. Most of what we do isn't reality. Now, call me G."
She was already gone before he could object again.
"Dammit, Eliot," he muttered, "If she gets killed because they think she's really a spy, I am never speaking to you again."
"Won't happen."
3. Motive "Is frugal of its Ball." (don't remember)
"You cannot have my coffee."
Angie Flynn ignored the warning and leaned over in her chair, grasping at the cup Vega was still holding out of her way. "C'mon, partner. You know I'll buy you more later."
"You will not," he returned, sliding his chair further away and taking a very delicate sip of the concoction that Angie really wouldn't touch normally, but it had been one hell of a long week.
A whining, grumy sound escaped her and she dropped her arms and slumped further in her chair. "Lucas would give me his coffee."
"Lucas hasn't slept in ten days." Vega pointed out dryly.
"Any update?" The words pulled the two tired detectives to their feet as their equally-tired Captain walked into the bullpen and waited for the newest update.
4. Person of Interest So o'er a pint I asked how he (uh... spoilers for season 3)
It wasn't a business that let you age gracefully into retirement. Not when you were dogged and dedicated to justice like Joss Carter had been. That was something Zoe Morgan had long learned to reconcile herself to. It was why she never let herself get too close to anyone or anything.
Causes came and went, and people died everyday.
The law of the land.
She shifted the glass of scotch in her fingers, and tried to tell herself that she wasn't upset.
Across from her, Harold Finch settled into the vacant chair. "You wished to see me, Ms. Morgan?"
Corruption of the highest order had been the first thing she'd discovered she knew how to twist to her own ends. Zoe downed the glass in a long pull and set it down. Her hands were steady as she looked across the table. "Tell me how I can help with Vigilance."
5. Spooks The near summer happily ever after, (Emily Bronte, I think)
It was the sort of memory Fiona stored for those days when the work was too harsh. When she wasn't certain who she was or who she would be the next day. When she needed to be reminded of more than her mortality and the blood on her hands.
The air was too-damp to be perfect, and the breeze was less gentle than pull-her-hair-all-over-the-place harsh. But from her vantage point on the bench, she could see Wes chasing the kite his father was flying, demanding his own turn at the string that held it aloft. The sun overhead made the greens and purples of the distant plastic of the kite shimmer as it danced back and forth far above them.
She shoved her hair back from her forehead again and finally got to her feet, calling, "Adam, give Wes a go."
Later, they would put him to bed, still smelling of the wind and the sea and just lean against each other watching him sleep.
1: Pick five fandoms. List them in alphabetical order.
1. Elementary
2. Leverage
3. Motive
4. Person of Interest
5. Spooks
2: Visit this site to find your first RANDOM POEM OF POWER. Write down the 5th line (yes, even if it's an E.E. Cummings poem and you wind up with an apostrophe). Repeat five times and - you guessed it - list 'em in alphabetical order! (No cheating, mind! This is a challenge and it's always been about creativity.)
3: I think you can see where this is going. Write a very quick 50-word half-drabble for each fandom (try to do it all in one sitting - make your brain explode!), using the line from the poem as a prompt. You don't have to include it in the half-drabble - it's just inspiration.
4: Bravo! Have a cookie.
1. Elementary "and certainly unworthy words to hear" (not a clue)
"I really don't think this is the time for this." Joan hisses the words out of the side of her mouth, trying not to look like she's speaking at all.
From her side, there's a shrug, more felt than seen -- the lighting is dim, but their captors are definitely keeping a keen eye on them. "It's the perfect time for it, Watson. Even you must realize that there is a point where an apology becomes useless."
"Sherlock, you can't just apologize because you think they're going to shoot us." She manages to sound annoyed as well as almost-touched at the same time, there. She feels a little proud of herself for that.
"Don't worry, I'm sure Detective Bell is just round the corner. But I feel engendered to also offer an apology for getting us into this. At least, partly. I suppose if I had listened to you we wouldn't be here."
Joan rolls her eyes at that. Of course they probably would have been where they were if he'd listened to her--his idea had just been more expedient than hers. Both would have had the same outcome. But she figures he knows that, and so doesn't see the point in reminding him of it. "Now is really not the time."
A harrumph escapes him. "Now is exactly the time. Watson, I do apologize for meddling in your personal life. Next time, I will not attempt to find out more about the man you're meeting for coffee."
"Thank you," is really all she can say.
Which is when Bell and his back-up break down the door, saving her from having to admit to Sherlock that she might have already thought that her current coffee-date was some sort of hitman with ties to the mob. She was just planning on making certain of it rather than confronting him, getting caught, and needing a rescue.
2. Leverage "g" (thank you, ee cummings)
"That's your code-name? No, Parker, girl--look, you can't just choose a letter as your codename."
"Why not? It works in the movies--there's Q, you know. And P, R, S--"
"James Bond is not reality," Hardison objected, ignoring the smirk on Eliot's face that said he knew that Hardison had already lost this argument and it was his own fault for treating Parker to that date-night with Bond. Just because Eliot didn't like Brosnan was no call to be smug, really.
Parker shrugged, "I don't care. Most of what we do isn't reality. Now, call me G."
She was already gone before he could object again.
"Dammit, Eliot," he muttered, "If she gets killed because they think she's really a spy, I am never speaking to you again."
"Won't happen."
3. Motive "Is frugal of its Ball." (don't remember)
"You cannot have my coffee."
Angie Flynn ignored the warning and leaned over in her chair, grasping at the cup Vega was still holding out of her way. "C'mon, partner. You know I'll buy you more later."
"You will not," he returned, sliding his chair further away and taking a very delicate sip of the concoction that Angie really wouldn't touch normally, but it had been one hell of a long week.
A whining, grumy sound escaped her and she dropped her arms and slumped further in her chair. "Lucas would give me his coffee."
"Lucas hasn't slept in ten days." Vega pointed out dryly.
"Any update?" The words pulled the two tired detectives to their feet as their equally-tired Captain walked into the bullpen and waited for the newest update.
4. Person of Interest So o'er a pint I asked how he (uh... spoilers for season 3)
It wasn't a business that let you age gracefully into retirement. Not when you were dogged and dedicated to justice like Joss Carter had been. That was something Zoe Morgan had long learned to reconcile herself to. It was why she never let herself get too close to anyone or anything.
Causes came and went, and people died everyday.
The law of the land.
She shifted the glass of scotch in her fingers, and tried to tell herself that she wasn't upset.
Across from her, Harold Finch settled into the vacant chair. "You wished to see me, Ms. Morgan?"
Corruption of the highest order had been the first thing she'd discovered she knew how to twist to her own ends. Zoe downed the glass in a long pull and set it down. Her hands were steady as she looked across the table. "Tell me how I can help with Vigilance."
5. Spooks The near summer happily ever after, (Emily Bronte, I think)
It was the sort of memory Fiona stored for those days when the work was too harsh. When she wasn't certain who she was or who she would be the next day. When she needed to be reminded of more than her mortality and the blood on her hands.
The air was too-damp to be perfect, and the breeze was less gentle than pull-her-hair-all-over-the-place harsh. But from her vantage point on the bench, she could see Wes chasing the kite his father was flying, demanding his own turn at the string that held it aloft. The sun overhead made the greens and purples of the distant plastic of the kite shimmer as it danced back and forth far above them.
She shoved her hair back from her forehead again and finally got to her feet, calling, "Adam, give Wes a go."
Later, they would put him to bed, still smelling of the wind and the sea and just lean against each other watching him sleep.