it's fic and spam-tastic!
I have gotten way too excited by the CI/SVU premiere ad that is floating around (thanks to YouTube, you too can see Eames hanging from a meat hook). One week to go! My pants are excited. Goren strangling and yelling! Eames in teh mortal danger! It's like the Best. Fic. Ever, but with sound.
Hur. I laughed too hard at the dynamite line. My lameness knows no bounds.
Speaking of which, here's a lame Criminal Intent fic for you, before I dance off to get ready for Mr. Folds.
Title: Sushi
Author: piecesofalice
Fandom: Law & Order: Criminal Intent, Goren/Eames gen
Disclaimer: Not mine. Have you seen Dick Wolf? He'd go Tony Soprano on your ass, for sure.
Rating: PG-13. Good, clean sushi-eatin' fun!
SUSHI
by Piecesofalice
Notes: This is as raw as a two dollar wax, so apologies for the lack of beta/spelling/coherance/characterisation. Inspired by the fact I have literally been having sushi for lunch every single day. You know Goren loves sushi. It's up there with food in the shape of sea animals. With many thanks to Wikipedia and the gang at Sushi Station Elizabeth Street for making my knowledge of rice-related food stuffs oh so complex.
----------
"We could have sushi?" She expects a long stare over the desk, and he doesn't disappoint.
He blinks. She sighs and sips her coffee, sick of freakin' burgers and fries and Hershey's from the vending machine, so she stares back and repeats her question.
"W-we've got a cafeteria," he says, finally, after eight long blinks and a decent shuffle of the papers in front of him.
"So? I feel...unhealthy; and there's that new train place a street over."
He blinks.
"Bobby!"
Now he smiles, and knows she knows he knows her buttons - and, satisfied they're sufficiently pressed, slips on his coat and offers hers.
"Sushi, then?"
-------------
The sushi place, called, imaginatively, The Sushi Place, is bustling with cops and MEs and DAs and the occasional civilian. Tiny Japanese waitresses scurry past them with green tea and steaming lunchboxes; the chefs cutting and cooking in the middle of the room with everyone and everything circling them like Saturn and its rings.
"Two?" A waitress, in halting English, pops up and shows them the recognised symbol of peace, or victory. Either way, Eames nods and they follow her to a set of stools with cups of weak tea awaiting them. The dainty girl bows, leaves them, and the detectives lapse into silence as the train chugs past.
"What an odd concept," Eames pipes up, as a way to break the silence that seems to follow them when they spend time away from a case.
"They," Goren begins in that I'm going to tell you a useless/interesting/case-breaking fact voice, "they have in Japan this particular system for those who haven't the time for a traditional sushi experience, eating on the run, cheap..."
She blinks. He grabs a plate of California Roll and trails off.
"I'm just saying."
"Enjoy the sushi, Bobby. See the train? Enjoy the novelty, not its utilisation by an entire nation! Look!" Using her left hand, Eames simulated the pulling of a train horn. "Hoot hoot!"
"I think it's more of a 'toot toot' than a 'hoot hoot', but that may be a lingusitic nuance based on where you were brought up."
"Or, you could be overthinking, again, and not enjoying your lunch."
Goren eats one of the rolls and contemplates another. He swallows and shakes his head.
"Why aren't you eating? The train has passed twice."
She rests her chin on her hands as the tail end passes. "I don't know what I want."
"There's about thirty things to choose from, from - " he pauses to dip his chopsticks in his green tea, like a ritual, like he's done this a million times before - "from the traditional to the slightly bizarre."
As he says this, a smooshy looking pair of fluro green cakes sails past. Eames frowns.
"I don't want to eat something the colour of my prom dress."
"Your prom dress was the colour of a Japanese custard and rice cake? And here I thought you'd been the prom queen."
He sticks the last bite of his California Rolls in her mouth before she can respond in sarcasm, shocking her slightly but letting her eyes narrow as she began to chew.
"Yummy?" he smirks.
"Don't say 'yummy' again," she swallows, finally grabbing a plain avocado roll from the train. "It looks and sounds weird coming from you."
"Would you prefer 'delicious'? Or 'délicieux'? 'Squisito'? 'Köstlich'?"
"No-one likes a show-off, Bobby."
Exasperated, he turns to the sushi chef and prattles on in near-perfect Japanese. The response from the little man is quick, soild, and within minutes a pile of plates is offered, grabbed by Goren and slapped down in front of his partner with very little pomp and certainly a lot of circumstance.
"And no-one likes a stick in the mud! Eat some tuna! A sliver of octopus!"
Her face creased. "You're freaking me out."
"And you're scaring me with your inablity to try new things! Look! This is the food of the Gods! The Japanese people, so healthy, so...statistically, they..."
Eames was certain she could hear the Jeopardy! music in her head mixed with a J-Pop version of 'My Heart Will Go On', but that could be because she'd tuned out of Goren's sushi rant and was happily working her way through the avocado rolls and eyeing a set of dumplings that was now sailing past.
"Eames!"
"What? I mean, yes, Bobby?"
"You're not listening."
She reached over and took one of the tiny tuna maki off his plate and smiled.
"No. I'm not. Because we're going to sit here and enjoy a delicious lunch without facts and figures and the thought that we have to go back to work. We're going to talk about movies and books and life, in English - not the history of Japan's staple food, or my plain, boring diet or anything that normal grown-ups would frown at as lunchtime conversation."
He blinks.
She sighs.
Then, they eat sushi.
----------
Fin.
----------
I have totally watched the season premiere ad like, too many times to even admit to.
Hur. I laughed too hard at the dynamite line. My lameness knows no bounds.
Speaking of which, here's a lame Criminal Intent fic for you, before I dance off to get ready for Mr. Folds.
Title: Sushi
Author: piecesofalice
Fandom: Law & Order: Criminal Intent, Goren/Eames gen
Disclaimer: Not mine. Have you seen Dick Wolf? He'd go Tony Soprano on your ass, for sure.
Rating: PG-13. Good, clean sushi-eatin' fun!
SUSHI
by Piecesofalice
Notes: This is as raw as a two dollar wax, so apologies for the lack of beta/spelling/coherance/characterisation. Inspired by the fact I have literally been having sushi for lunch every single day. You know Goren loves sushi. It's up there with food in the shape of sea animals. With many thanks to Wikipedia and the gang at Sushi Station Elizabeth Street for making my knowledge of rice-related food stuffs oh so complex.
----------
"We could have sushi?" She expects a long stare over the desk, and he doesn't disappoint.
He blinks. She sighs and sips her coffee, sick of freakin' burgers and fries and Hershey's from the vending machine, so she stares back and repeats her question.
"W-we've got a cafeteria," he says, finally, after eight long blinks and a decent shuffle of the papers in front of him.
"So? I feel...unhealthy; and there's that new train place a street over."
He blinks.
"Bobby!"
Now he smiles, and knows she knows he knows her buttons - and, satisfied they're sufficiently pressed, slips on his coat and offers hers.
"Sushi, then?"
-------------
The sushi place, called, imaginatively, The Sushi Place, is bustling with cops and MEs and DAs and the occasional civilian. Tiny Japanese waitresses scurry past them with green tea and steaming lunchboxes; the chefs cutting and cooking in the middle of the room with everyone and everything circling them like Saturn and its rings.
"Two?" A waitress, in halting English, pops up and shows them the recognised symbol of peace, or victory. Either way, Eames nods and they follow her to a set of stools with cups of weak tea awaiting them. The dainty girl bows, leaves them, and the detectives lapse into silence as the train chugs past.
"What an odd concept," Eames pipes up, as a way to break the silence that seems to follow them when they spend time away from a case.
"They," Goren begins in that I'm going to tell you a useless/interesting/case-breaking fact voice, "they have in Japan this particular system for those who haven't the time for a traditional sushi experience, eating on the run, cheap..."
She blinks. He grabs a plate of California Roll and trails off.
"I'm just saying."
"Enjoy the sushi, Bobby. See the train? Enjoy the novelty, not its utilisation by an entire nation! Look!" Using her left hand, Eames simulated the pulling of a train horn. "Hoot hoot!"
"I think it's more of a 'toot toot' than a 'hoot hoot', but that may be a lingusitic nuance based on where you were brought up."
"Or, you could be overthinking, again, and not enjoying your lunch."
Goren eats one of the rolls and contemplates another. He swallows and shakes his head.
"Why aren't you eating? The train has passed twice."
She rests her chin on her hands as the tail end passes. "I don't know what I want."
"There's about thirty things to choose from, from - " he pauses to dip his chopsticks in his green tea, like a ritual, like he's done this a million times before - "from the traditional to the slightly bizarre."
As he says this, a smooshy looking pair of fluro green cakes sails past. Eames frowns.
"I don't want to eat something the colour of my prom dress."
"Your prom dress was the colour of a Japanese custard and rice cake? And here I thought you'd been the prom queen."
He sticks the last bite of his California Rolls in her mouth before she can respond in sarcasm, shocking her slightly but letting her eyes narrow as she began to chew.
"Yummy?" he smirks.
"Don't say 'yummy' again," she swallows, finally grabbing a plain avocado roll from the train. "It looks and sounds weird coming from you."
"Would you prefer 'delicious'? Or 'délicieux'? 'Squisito'? 'Köstlich'?"
"No-one likes a show-off, Bobby."
Exasperated, he turns to the sushi chef and prattles on in near-perfect Japanese. The response from the little man is quick, soild, and within minutes a pile of plates is offered, grabbed by Goren and slapped down in front of his partner with very little pomp and certainly a lot of circumstance.
"And no-one likes a stick in the mud! Eat some tuna! A sliver of octopus!"
Her face creased. "You're freaking me out."
"And you're scaring me with your inablity to try new things! Look! This is the food of the Gods! The Japanese people, so healthy, so...statistically, they..."
Eames was certain she could hear the Jeopardy! music in her head mixed with a J-Pop version of 'My Heart Will Go On', but that could be because she'd tuned out of Goren's sushi rant and was happily working her way through the avocado rolls and eyeing a set of dumplings that was now sailing past.
"Eames!"
"What? I mean, yes, Bobby?"
"You're not listening."
She reached over and took one of the tiny tuna maki off his plate and smiled.
"No. I'm not. Because we're going to sit here and enjoy a delicious lunch without facts and figures and the thought that we have to go back to work. We're going to talk about movies and books and life, in English - not the history of Japan's staple food, or my plain, boring diet or anything that normal grown-ups would frown at as lunchtime conversation."
He blinks.
She sighs.
Then, they eat sushi.
----------
Fin.
----------
I have totally watched the season premiere ad like, too many times to even admit to.