*sticks hands under arms*
Next four (and, dude, Trina, have I mentioned how strangely mesmerizing that OTP icon is??? Because it is. It's... distracting.)
Turlough (Doctor Who) and a moon pie.
"You eat them."
Turlough rolled his eyes. This American girl was steadily becoming more of an annoyance. He should never have saved her. That moment of altruism now meant that she was shoving things she called food at him.
"They're good!" Peri insisted, her tone strident. Then she paused, looking oddly lost. And suddenly out of place in the small Tardis bedroom. "Moon pies, Turlough. A taste of home."
"Feeling wistful?"
"Perhaps."
He wanted to sigh. She wasn't as much fun to cross swords with as Tegan had been. Irritating as the Air Hostess might have pretended to be, she'd given as good as she'd got. And the Doctor wasn't up to his weight, either. Not that he would ever truly admit to missing Tegan.
"How do you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Become used to all of this," she pointed at the walls. "Not being home."
"I haven't been home for a very long time." True. But why'd he have to tell her? He picked up the strange confection and eyed it. Perhaps the school he'd been at had had the right idea when it came to gastronomics. Sludge was probably better.
"Oh. Sorry."
He took a bite. Well, it could have been worse. "It's, um... interesting."
"Aren't they fabulous?" She was bouncy and bubbly again.
Turlough couldn't hold back the sigh. The Doctor had better return soon.
----
Ash from Evil Dead and the teletubbies,chainsaw
He almost didn't see her until he was right on top of her. Small, lithe, quick, red hair shimmering in the moonlight. She threw him against a wall, straddled his chest.
"Whoa!" He restrained himself from using the chainsaw. It wouldn't be fair, she probably thought he was a mugger.
"Hello."
"Yeah. Look, darlin', not that this isn't comfortable, but--"
She moved swiftly, standing and turning, her head tilted to one side. Listening.
"Who are you?"
"I am Alice."
"Ash. I'd shake your hand, but..."
She didn't laugh.
"Look--"
Her hand clamped over his mouth. "They're coming."
"Who?" He mumbled through her fingers.
"Them."
She dragged him behind a tree and he could suddenly see. Round bodies, strange faces. And it was really the giggling that got to him. He shuddered. "Y'know... I'm normally a zombie-killer, but..."
A smile touched her lips, it didn't reach her eyes. "You understand."
"Yep." He held up his arm, "You ready to dance?"
"Think you can keep up?"
He flashed her a smirk. "Always."
----
Spike, Buffy, weed whacker (Hmmm... Spike with a weed whacker *and* Buffy...)
It amazes him that they trust him. Makes it easier, too. He wonders, when she tangles her limbs with his, when she's aching and moaning and growling under him, if she truly sees. He somehow doubts it.
And he revels in that fact.
Exploits it, even. Until they can't do anything but face the truth. But he's already screwed them over so fabulously that even Billy Idol wouldn't complain about the money.
The weed whacker Dawn uses comes as a shock.
---
Harvey, Crichton, the Ebola virus
"Oh, come on, John, you know it only hurts the first time."
"Harv, it always hurts. Every time."
"The chair, the chair, the chair--who's got the apple?"
"Shut up."
"My side, your side? No, wait, we've sung that tune before."
"We're not goin' to Tiperary, Harv."
"But we could cure the Ebola virus and cause world peace and stop--oh."
"Would you just stop it?"
"But I like this portion of your mind. And a little bit of this and a little bit of that. Stop me with a kiss, John?"
"Oh, god."
Turlough (Doctor Who) and a moon pie.
"You eat them."
Turlough rolled his eyes. This American girl was steadily becoming more of an annoyance. He should never have saved her. That moment of altruism now meant that she was shoving things she called food at him.
"They're good!" Peri insisted, her tone strident. Then she paused, looking oddly lost. And suddenly out of place in the small Tardis bedroom. "Moon pies, Turlough. A taste of home."
"Feeling wistful?"
"Perhaps."
He wanted to sigh. She wasn't as much fun to cross swords with as Tegan had been. Irritating as the Air Hostess might have pretended to be, she'd given as good as she'd got. And the Doctor wasn't up to his weight, either. Not that he would ever truly admit to missing Tegan.
"How do you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Become used to all of this," she pointed at the walls. "Not being home."
"I haven't been home for a very long time." True. But why'd he have to tell her? He picked up the strange confection and eyed it. Perhaps the school he'd been at had had the right idea when it came to gastronomics. Sludge was probably better.
"Oh. Sorry."
He took a bite. Well, it could have been worse. "It's, um... interesting."
"Aren't they fabulous?" She was bouncy and bubbly again.
Turlough couldn't hold back the sigh. The Doctor had better return soon.
----
Ash from Evil Dead and the teletubbies,chainsaw
He almost didn't see her until he was right on top of her. Small, lithe, quick, red hair shimmering in the moonlight. She threw him against a wall, straddled his chest.
"Whoa!" He restrained himself from using the chainsaw. It wouldn't be fair, she probably thought he was a mugger.
"Hello."
"Yeah. Look, darlin', not that this isn't comfortable, but--"
She moved swiftly, standing and turning, her head tilted to one side. Listening.
"Who are you?"
"I am Alice."
"Ash. I'd shake your hand, but..."
She didn't laugh.
"Look--"
Her hand clamped over his mouth. "They're coming."
"Who?" He mumbled through her fingers.
"Them."
She dragged him behind a tree and he could suddenly see. Round bodies, strange faces. And it was really the giggling that got to him. He shuddered. "Y'know... I'm normally a zombie-killer, but..."
A smile touched her lips, it didn't reach her eyes. "You understand."
"Yep." He held up his arm, "You ready to dance?"
"Think you can keep up?"
He flashed her a smirk. "Always."
----
Spike, Buffy, weed whacker (Hmmm... Spike with a weed whacker *and* Buffy...)
It amazes him that they trust him. Makes it easier, too. He wonders, when she tangles her limbs with his, when she's aching and moaning and growling under him, if she truly sees. He somehow doubts it.
And he revels in that fact.
Exploits it, even. Until they can't do anything but face the truth. But he's already screwed them over so fabulously that even Billy Idol wouldn't complain about the money.
The weed whacker Dawn uses comes as a shock.
---
Harvey, Crichton, the Ebola virus
"Oh, come on, John, you know it only hurts the first time."
"Harv, it always hurts. Every time."
"The chair, the chair, the chair--who's got the apple?"
"Shut up."
"My side, your side? No, wait, we've sung that tune before."
"We're not goin' to Tiperary, Harv."
"But we could cure the Ebola virus and cause world peace and stop--oh."
"Would you just stop it?"
"But I like this portion of your mind. And a little bit of this and a little bit of that. Stop me with a kiss, John?"
"Oh, god."