This part of the movie is called "You had to ask."
When you see this, post a snippet from your works-in-progress.
Oh my gosh this is exciting.
Captain Uhura and the Cavaliers. (This from last year's NaNo! Unsurprisingly, most of the salvageable parts from it were the bits where the medical staff stood around abusing each other.)
Chapel nodded again. "Look, Geoff..." He looked up at her, and the look in his eyes apparently made her decide what to say. "McCoy told me once that I should speak with the new CMO and give him one thing, in case something like this ever happened."
"What do you mean, 'something like this'?"
"His violent death, was what I think he had in mind."
M'Benga nodded. "Go on." Leonard McCoy, he supposed, had been the type of man to think in such eventualities.
"The Romulan ale is hidden in the lowest drawer. The password for the lock is 'Jocelyn.'" She spelled it for him.
"God bless that man," said M'Benga. He wondered at what sort of person named his illicit liquor stash after his ex-wife as went off to meet Mr. Spock in the exam room.
Untitled Mirror!Uhura tries to seduce Spock fic
"You can take a nap. I think I better be the one to talk to Mr. Spock. I can't imagine a Spock in any universe that's very fond of you."
"Yeah." The doctor looked momentarily pleased with himself. "That is an excellent point. Still, Uhura, don't you think you should have tried pretending to be the diplomat before, you know." He gestured to the captain's lifeless for on the ground next to him.
"Kneeing the guard in the balls? That thought did occur to me--"
"It was a good hit, I'll admit. It's lucky that the guard was so short, though. Usually you need a stepladder for that trick, don't you?" He positively beamed at her. Sometimes it seemed to her that McCoy was never so happy than after he had been punched in the face a few times. She considered it one of his basic failings as a doctor.
"Listen, doctor. If their technicians are as confused by whatever the hell has happened as Scott was, then we're in deep trouble. We might be stuck here for a long time and I, for one, do not intend to spend it all with the likes of you three. Not my idea of a good time. Now, you tell Kirk and Scott where I've gone when they wake up and I'll see if they'll let you have your counterpart's liquor stash. If we really are stuck here for good, anyway."
"Hmph," said McCoy, sitting back again. "If he's like everyone else around here, bastard's probably a teetotaler."
"Enjoy your nap," she told him sweetly before approaching the doorway to the cell.
Untitled McCoy/Spock/Uhura fic
"Well, what are you leaving out, then?" asked the new ensign, with sudden boldness. "I read that mission report that Mr. Spock wrote up about 892-IV, and he didn't say anything about you getting disemboweled."
McCoy was taken aback. He had hoped, as this ensign hadn't known who Uhura was, she wouldn't know him either. He swilled around the drink in his glass a bit and tried to grin at her carelessly, even though he felt a vague misgiving in the back of his mind that he was too drunk to properly investigate. “Look, Ms...um--”
“Saavedra.”
“Right. When you've been here a little longer, you'll come to realize that Mr. Spock doesn't include exciting words like 'disembowel' in his mission reports. In fact, if you ever find yourself becoming engrossed in one of Mr. Spock's mission reports, come talk to the captain or Uhura or me because it's a nine to one chance that he's gotten himself possessed by some alien consciousness again.”
Her eyes widened. “That can happen?”
He shrugged. “I've learned not to put anything past my patients.”
Untitled Jeff-and-Shirley-pretend-to-date-to-spite-her-ex fic
Jeff caught Shirley's eye. She smiled at him and he winked at her before speaking. "Anyway, Abed, obviously Shirley has said that she doesn't want to go to her high school reunion, so--"
"You should do it, Jeff," said Abed.
"What?"
"Oh, Abed," said Shirley.
"Why not?" asked Britta, turning to Jeff. "You pretended to be a lawyer for years, pretending to be Shirley's boyfriend should be a cinch."
"Oh, ha ha."
"She's right, Jeff," said Abed. "You're tall and attractive, plus your out-sized ego, your vanity about your personal appearance, your air of professionalism with a slightly seamy edge to it...they're all things that should make a favorable impression on the types of people who made Shirley's life miserable in high school."
"Abed, I don't think anyone made my life miserable in high school. You're being ridiculous. Jeff, tell him how ridiculous he's being."
"I don't know." Jeff's legs were up on the table and he was leaning back in his chair, staring up at the opposite wall pensively. "He might have a point, Shirley. You really think I have a seamy edge, Abed?"
"Definitely."
"Hmm." Jeff rocked slightly back and forward in his chair.
Shirley laughed nervously. "You're all being silly."
"Abed's appealing to his out-sized ego," Britta told her. "He might just do it."
Jeff sat up straight. "Forget about your classmates, Shirley. This could be an excellent way to get back at your husband and his awful girlfriend."
"Pretending to be a couple is another classic trope," Abed told her. "It'll probably end up strengthening the bonds of your friendship, unless of course you end up falling in love for real."
"Can that happen?" asked Troy.
"You tell me," said Abed, tilting his head and staring at Troy, who quickly looked away.
"Whatever, Abed," said Jeff. "Shirley, what do you say?"
Everyone was looking at her. "I--um--"
"I'll drive."
That decided it. "Oh, all right."
A different city (It's Community futurefic, or something.)
The first time Jeff's face appeared in the streets of Denver, Troy thought he was imagining it.
"Abed," he said, throwing his arm out. "Did you see that?" They hadn't been walking but Troy wanted to stop him in his tracks nonetheless.
"See what?" Abed's voice was sticky; he was very hurriedly trying to finish eating a cinnamon roll before they got on the bus because last week he had dropped his ice cream sandwich and the driver had nearly kicked him off. Since then, Abed had been very stringent in following the rules about food on their buses.
"Jeff's face."
Abed unhurriedly finished his roll and licked off his fingers before replying. "Jeff Winger?" he asked.
"Yeah! His face was on the side of that bus."
"Hmm." He was wiping his fingers with a moist towelette now. "Weird."
"Yeah." Troy considered. "Do you think he's a real estate agent now?"
Untitled fic where Joel finds K9 and they make sweet robot love (metaphorically)
The next time the strange man with the long brown coat showed up, it was almost springtime. In the meantime, Joel had hit something of a wall with the tin dog.
"I'm doing the best I can," he explained to the dog, who only came to life intermittently before his strength was sapped by his damaged battery. "It's just that I don't have the power to get you fully charged." He'd been trying to improvise with everything he could think of: old generators, air conditioners from the junkyard, and once he even tried to use the souped-up engine of an old snowmobile. Nothing had worked.
"Understood, Master."
"And I'm not your master," said Joel. The idea made him sort of uncomfortable, and not just because of his association of the word with Torgo. "Are you sure you can't remember where you came from?"
"Memory circuits damaged. Information retrieval incomplete."
Joel sighed. He comforted the tin dog the only way he knew how. "Good boy," he said, patting him on the head.
"Thank you, Master."
Ha, that was really fun. :D
This entry was originally posted at Dreamwidth. Comments welcome anywhere.
Oh my gosh this is exciting.
Captain Uhura and the Cavaliers. (This from last year's NaNo! Unsurprisingly, most of the salvageable parts from it were the bits where the medical staff stood around abusing each other.)
Chapel nodded again. "Look, Geoff..." He looked up at her, and the look in his eyes apparently made her decide what to say. "McCoy told me once that I should speak with the new CMO and give him one thing, in case something like this ever happened."
"What do you mean, 'something like this'?"
"His violent death, was what I think he had in mind."
M'Benga nodded. "Go on." Leonard McCoy, he supposed, had been the type of man to think in such eventualities.
"The Romulan ale is hidden in the lowest drawer. The password for the lock is 'Jocelyn.'" She spelled it for him.
"God bless that man," said M'Benga. He wondered at what sort of person named his illicit liquor stash after his ex-wife as went off to meet Mr. Spock in the exam room.
Untitled Mirror!Uhura tries to seduce Spock fic
"You can take a nap. I think I better be the one to talk to Mr. Spock. I can't imagine a Spock in any universe that's very fond of you."
"Yeah." The doctor looked momentarily pleased with himself. "That is an excellent point. Still, Uhura, don't you think you should have tried pretending to be the diplomat before, you know." He gestured to the captain's lifeless for on the ground next to him.
"Kneeing the guard in the balls? That thought did occur to me--"
"It was a good hit, I'll admit. It's lucky that the guard was so short, though. Usually you need a stepladder for that trick, don't you?" He positively beamed at her. Sometimes it seemed to her that McCoy was never so happy than after he had been punched in the face a few times. She considered it one of his basic failings as a doctor.
"Listen, doctor. If their technicians are as confused by whatever the hell has happened as Scott was, then we're in deep trouble. We might be stuck here for a long time and I, for one, do not intend to spend it all with the likes of you three. Not my idea of a good time. Now, you tell Kirk and Scott where I've gone when they wake up and I'll see if they'll let you have your counterpart's liquor stash. If we really are stuck here for good, anyway."
"Hmph," said McCoy, sitting back again. "If he's like everyone else around here, bastard's probably a teetotaler."
"Enjoy your nap," she told him sweetly before approaching the doorway to the cell.
Untitled McCoy/Spock/Uhura fic
"Well, what are you leaving out, then?" asked the new ensign, with sudden boldness. "I read that mission report that Mr. Spock wrote up about 892-IV, and he didn't say anything about you getting disemboweled."
McCoy was taken aback. He had hoped, as this ensign hadn't known who Uhura was, she wouldn't know him either. He swilled around the drink in his glass a bit and tried to grin at her carelessly, even though he felt a vague misgiving in the back of his mind that he was too drunk to properly investigate. “Look, Ms...um--”
“Saavedra.”
“Right. When you've been here a little longer, you'll come to realize that Mr. Spock doesn't include exciting words like 'disembowel' in his mission reports. In fact, if you ever find yourself becoming engrossed in one of Mr. Spock's mission reports, come talk to the captain or Uhura or me because it's a nine to one chance that he's gotten himself possessed by some alien consciousness again.”
Her eyes widened. “That can happen?”
He shrugged. “I've learned not to put anything past my patients.”
Untitled Jeff-and-Shirley-pretend-to-date-to-spite-her-ex fic
Jeff caught Shirley's eye. She smiled at him and he winked at her before speaking. "Anyway, Abed, obviously Shirley has said that she doesn't want to go to her high school reunion, so--"
"You should do it, Jeff," said Abed.
"What?"
"Oh, Abed," said Shirley.
"Why not?" asked Britta, turning to Jeff. "You pretended to be a lawyer for years, pretending to be Shirley's boyfriend should be a cinch."
"Oh, ha ha."
"She's right, Jeff," said Abed. "You're tall and attractive, plus your out-sized ego, your vanity about your personal appearance, your air of professionalism with a slightly seamy edge to it...they're all things that should make a favorable impression on the types of people who made Shirley's life miserable in high school."
"Abed, I don't think anyone made my life miserable in high school. You're being ridiculous. Jeff, tell him how ridiculous he's being."
"I don't know." Jeff's legs were up on the table and he was leaning back in his chair, staring up at the opposite wall pensively. "He might have a point, Shirley. You really think I have a seamy edge, Abed?"
"Definitely."
"Hmm." Jeff rocked slightly back and forward in his chair.
Shirley laughed nervously. "You're all being silly."
"Abed's appealing to his out-sized ego," Britta told her. "He might just do it."
Jeff sat up straight. "Forget about your classmates, Shirley. This could be an excellent way to get back at your husband and his awful girlfriend."
"Pretending to be a couple is another classic trope," Abed told her. "It'll probably end up strengthening the bonds of your friendship, unless of course you end up falling in love for real."
"Can that happen?" asked Troy.
"You tell me," said Abed, tilting his head and staring at Troy, who quickly looked away.
"Whatever, Abed," said Jeff. "Shirley, what do you say?"
Everyone was looking at her. "I--um--"
"I'll drive."
That decided it. "Oh, all right."
A different city (It's Community futurefic, or something.)
The first time Jeff's face appeared in the streets of Denver, Troy thought he was imagining it.
"Abed," he said, throwing his arm out. "Did you see that?" They hadn't been walking but Troy wanted to stop him in his tracks nonetheless.
"See what?" Abed's voice was sticky; he was very hurriedly trying to finish eating a cinnamon roll before they got on the bus because last week he had dropped his ice cream sandwich and the driver had nearly kicked him off. Since then, Abed had been very stringent in following the rules about food on their buses.
"Jeff's face."
Abed unhurriedly finished his roll and licked off his fingers before replying. "Jeff Winger?" he asked.
"Yeah! His face was on the side of that bus."
"Hmm." He was wiping his fingers with a moist towelette now. "Weird."
"Yeah." Troy considered. "Do you think he's a real estate agent now?"
Untitled fic where Joel finds K9 and they make sweet robot love (metaphorically)
The next time the strange man with the long brown coat showed up, it was almost springtime. In the meantime, Joel had hit something of a wall with the tin dog.
"I'm doing the best I can," he explained to the dog, who only came to life intermittently before his strength was sapped by his damaged battery. "It's just that I don't have the power to get you fully charged." He'd been trying to improvise with everything he could think of: old generators, air conditioners from the junkyard, and once he even tried to use the souped-up engine of an old snowmobile. Nothing had worked.
"Understood, Master."
"And I'm not your master," said Joel. The idea made him sort of uncomfortable, and not just because of his association of the word with Torgo. "Are you sure you can't remember where you came from?"
"Memory circuits damaged. Information retrieval incomplete."
Joel sighed. He comforted the tin dog the only way he knew how. "Good boy," he said, patting him on the head.
"Thank you, Master."
Ha, that was really fun. :D
This entry was originally posted at Dreamwidth. Comments welcome anywhere.