miscellaneous prompted fragments
Today was Atlanta's hottest day in the past seven years. We hit 100 with a heat index of 108-110. It's really fucking hot. And for me to be saying that? It's really fucking hot. Plus, we need rain something awful.
So. Prompted drabblets and ficlets from yesterday.
((Yeah, yeah, I suck at following the rules for these things. I took it as a one sentence minimum because I couldn't see the point in crafting overly complex run-on sentences simply for the sake of it.))
for stellaluna_
Martha :: Static
She skids to a stop at the bottom of the hill, the Doctor beside her but the big mantis-looking beastie nowhere in sight.
The Doctor brushes himself off and turns to her with his hundred-yard eyes, but when he opens his mouth there's only white noise. Martha starts to ask him what's going on but can't get the words to form. It hits her then, and she can only laugh--a hissing, crackling noise--because it's just too appropriate.
Mac/Danny :: Rain
It's that smoggy, stifling, big city heat that coats your skin, and it's so fucking hot out that Danny starts sweating the second he steps outside. A thunderstorm moves in that evening, and it only makes him feel even more filthy, especially when he's licking the rainwater from Mac's mouth.
Martha/Stella :: Harbor
Martha stands over the corpse and watches it melt into a blueish sludge. Her heart's in her throat and her stomach's at her feet, and Stella wraps an arm around her waist because that was too damn close. They're both trembling with adrenaline. Martha instinctively pulls Stella closer, tastes salt on the arch of her neck.
She's only known Stella for forty-eight hours, but they've already hunted down four of the five Kynn and she's definitely going to pass Stella's name along to Jack in case he ever needs to open up a Torchwood West.
for gin200168
Mac/Jack :: Taste, Feel, Memory
Mac's knees ache like they can take their time, like they've got all year instead of all night. Liberty in a shitty motel room. His tongue follows a vein up the underside of Jack's cock, and he's surprised that he likes the bitter, musky taste as much as he does, especially while it smothers the whiskey flavor still in the back of his throat. Mac braces a hand on Jack's strong thigh, rubs his fingertips against the coarse hair. His heart is hammering in his chest, and in a moment of prescience he knows that he's going to remember this night for much longer than he'll want to.
for fruitbat00
Flack & Ten :: What!
Flack walks into the Police Box--which looks like a prop from a goddamn movie--turns around and walks right back out again. He makes a circle of the big blue thing, storms back inside, and shakes his head at the freak who wears Chuck Taylors with a damn nice pinstripe suit. "Fine. I get it. What now?"
Mac/Flack :: Unexpected
Flack opens the window and reaches for a cigarette. Traffic's thin at this time of night, and he stares blankly out the window as he lights up. He doesn't think Mac intended to fall asleep like that, and he tells himself he doesn't care one way or the other. After a few drags on the cigarette, he can't smell the sex on himself anymore, even though he knows it's still there. A little while later Mac wanders into the living room, rumpled but dressed, and for a split second he looks so uncertain that it stabs Flack in the stomach.
See, Flack's known Mac Taylor for long enough to learn that there are certain parameters under which Mac will always operate. Certain rules, certain behaviors, and they will always result in the same outcome, no matter how contradictory. Flack rubs his eyes because he's fucking tired and going over this line of thought for the millionth time will give him a headache, but right now he suspects they're way outside of Mac's known parameters.
They look at each other for a minute, then Mac sits down on the other end of the couch. "We keep having the same argument don't we," Mac says. He's talking about Moran and Truby and everyone inbetween. "I'm sorry about that."
"Yeah." Flack scoots a little lower on the couch and resists a weird impulse to reach over and mess up Mac's hair or something. "Yeah, me too."
"But we're going to keep having it." Mac looks down at his hands.
Flack takes a deep drag on a new cigarette. "Probably."
Mac & Willow :: Magic
Willow rolls her eyes. She doesn't have time for this, so she levitates the tired-eyed cop a few feet off the ground. "You believe in empirical evidence, right? We can argue semantics later."
for zekkass
Stella, Mac, Hawkes :: Falling
The three of them are at Sullivans, and Mac gets up for the next round. There's a line at the bar, and he glances back to the table, glances just long enough to notice the angles of their bodies. Everything shifts, and Mac quickly looks away, reaching for some pretzels to settle his stomach.
for buffy-lily
Hawkes & Rodney :: Physics
Hawkes takes a slow deep breath, willing his blood pressure to stay normal while he listens to Dr McKay grow more and more livid. "And the nature of your research?" he asks again.
Dr. McKay huffs. "Even if it weren't classified, you wouldn't begin to grasp the complexity of the situation."
Hawkes watches him calmly until he huffs again and seems to gear down a notch.
Riley & Mac :: Marines
It takes Riley ten seconds to make the guy as both a cop and a marine. "Sir, I'll explain everything after I check in with my CO, but we're going to have to move now because this area is about to get real hot."
The cop's eyes narrow, and he balks. "This area is the East Green of Central Park."
Riley looks to his nine, where Sanchez is supposed to be, and suspects they're shit out of luck.
for ivinnuna
Flack :: Swelter
It's too fucking hot to move.
To be fair, Flack would be dealing with this heat wave a lot better if he weren't down with the flu.
So he sprawls on his couch, oscillating fan set at the perfect angle to blow cool air up and down the length of his body. He's ignoring whatever sick bastard is knocking on the door because it's too hot to get up and answer it. He'd even shout that at the sick bastard knocking on his door--fuck off, it's too hot to move--but it's also too hot to shout. Beyond all that, though, it's too hot for him to figure out if he should be annoyed when Danny unlocks the door and lets himself in.
"How'd you get in?" he asks.
"Still got a key from last year when you weren't really up and about." Danny shifts his weight and frowns at the game Flack's got on the television. "Don't you ever do the chain?"
Flack snorts because if he did that, Danny wouldn't be able to let himself in. The heat is really starting to impair his brain. Or maybe it's the flu. "Hey, since you're up, get me a beer out of the fridge."
"No." Danny stares at Flack like one of them has lost his mind.
"C'mon, beer's mostly water. Let me drown my misery."
"Maybe later," Danny says. "If you can convince me you don't have a fever and you're not dehydrated."
......
If people still would like to prompt me with something, go ahead. I think I could do another batch of these tomorrow.
It's one word and one or two characters from any of the following fandoms: CSI:NY, NCIS, SGA, Doctor Who, Buffyverse, CSI.
So. Prompted drabblets and ficlets from yesterday.
((Yeah, yeah, I suck at following the rules for these things. I took it as a one sentence minimum because I couldn't see the point in crafting overly complex run-on sentences simply for the sake of it.))
for stellaluna_
Martha :: Static
She skids to a stop at the bottom of the hill, the Doctor beside her but the big mantis-looking beastie nowhere in sight.
The Doctor brushes himself off and turns to her with his hundred-yard eyes, but when he opens his mouth there's only white noise. Martha starts to ask him what's going on but can't get the words to form. It hits her then, and she can only laugh--a hissing, crackling noise--because it's just too appropriate.
Mac/Danny :: Rain
It's that smoggy, stifling, big city heat that coats your skin, and it's so fucking hot out that Danny starts sweating the second he steps outside. A thunderstorm moves in that evening, and it only makes him feel even more filthy, especially when he's licking the rainwater from Mac's mouth.
Martha/Stella :: Harbor
Martha stands over the corpse and watches it melt into a blueish sludge. Her heart's in her throat and her stomach's at her feet, and Stella wraps an arm around her waist because that was too damn close. They're both trembling with adrenaline. Martha instinctively pulls Stella closer, tastes salt on the arch of her neck.
She's only known Stella for forty-eight hours, but they've already hunted down four of the five Kynn and she's definitely going to pass Stella's name along to Jack in case he ever needs to open up a Torchwood West.
for gin200168
Mac/Jack :: Taste, Feel, Memory
Mac's knees ache like they can take their time, like they've got all year instead of all night. Liberty in a shitty motel room. His tongue follows a vein up the underside of Jack's cock, and he's surprised that he likes the bitter, musky taste as much as he does, especially while it smothers the whiskey flavor still in the back of his throat. Mac braces a hand on Jack's strong thigh, rubs his fingertips against the coarse hair. His heart is hammering in his chest, and in a moment of prescience he knows that he's going to remember this night for much longer than he'll want to.
for fruitbat00
Flack & Ten :: What!
Flack walks into the Police Box--which looks like a prop from a goddamn movie--turns around and walks right back out again. He makes a circle of the big blue thing, storms back inside, and shakes his head at the freak who wears Chuck Taylors with a damn nice pinstripe suit. "Fine. I get it. What now?"
Mac/Flack :: Unexpected
Flack opens the window and reaches for a cigarette. Traffic's thin at this time of night, and he stares blankly out the window as he lights up. He doesn't think Mac intended to fall asleep like that, and he tells himself he doesn't care one way or the other. After a few drags on the cigarette, he can't smell the sex on himself anymore, even though he knows it's still there. A little while later Mac wanders into the living room, rumpled but dressed, and for a split second he looks so uncertain that it stabs Flack in the stomach.
See, Flack's known Mac Taylor for long enough to learn that there are certain parameters under which Mac will always operate. Certain rules, certain behaviors, and they will always result in the same outcome, no matter how contradictory. Flack rubs his eyes because he's fucking tired and going over this line of thought for the millionth time will give him a headache, but right now he suspects they're way outside of Mac's known parameters.
They look at each other for a minute, then Mac sits down on the other end of the couch. "We keep having the same argument don't we," Mac says. He's talking about Moran and Truby and everyone inbetween. "I'm sorry about that."
"Yeah." Flack scoots a little lower on the couch and resists a weird impulse to reach over and mess up Mac's hair or something. "Yeah, me too."
"But we're going to keep having it." Mac looks down at his hands.
Flack takes a deep drag on a new cigarette. "Probably."
Mac & Willow :: Magic
Willow rolls her eyes. She doesn't have time for this, so she levitates the tired-eyed cop a few feet off the ground. "You believe in empirical evidence, right? We can argue semantics later."
for zekkass
Stella, Mac, Hawkes :: Falling
The three of them are at Sullivans, and Mac gets up for the next round. There's a line at the bar, and he glances back to the table, glances just long enough to notice the angles of their bodies. Everything shifts, and Mac quickly looks away, reaching for some pretzels to settle his stomach.
for buffy-lily
Hawkes & Rodney :: Physics
Hawkes takes a slow deep breath, willing his blood pressure to stay normal while he listens to Dr McKay grow more and more livid. "And the nature of your research?" he asks again.
Dr. McKay huffs. "Even if it weren't classified, you wouldn't begin to grasp the complexity of the situation."
Hawkes watches him calmly until he huffs again and seems to gear down a notch.
Riley & Mac :: Marines
It takes Riley ten seconds to make the guy as both a cop and a marine. "Sir, I'll explain everything after I check in with my CO, but we're going to have to move now because this area is about to get real hot."
The cop's eyes narrow, and he balks. "This area is the East Green of Central Park."
Riley looks to his nine, where Sanchez is supposed to be, and suspects they're shit out of luck.
for ivinnuna
Flack :: Swelter
It's too fucking hot to move.
To be fair, Flack would be dealing with this heat wave a lot better if he weren't down with the flu.
So he sprawls on his couch, oscillating fan set at the perfect angle to blow cool air up and down the length of his body. He's ignoring whatever sick bastard is knocking on the door because it's too hot to get up and answer it. He'd even shout that at the sick bastard knocking on his door--fuck off, it's too hot to move--but it's also too hot to shout. Beyond all that, though, it's too hot for him to figure out if he should be annoyed when Danny unlocks the door and lets himself in.
"How'd you get in?" he asks.
"Still got a key from last year when you weren't really up and about." Danny shifts his weight and frowns at the game Flack's got on the television. "Don't you ever do the chain?"
Flack snorts because if he did that, Danny wouldn't be able to let himself in. The heat is really starting to impair his brain. Or maybe it's the flu. "Hey, since you're up, get me a beer out of the fridge."
"No." Danny stares at Flack like one of them has lost his mind.
"C'mon, beer's mostly water. Let me drown my misery."
"Maybe later," Danny says. "If you can convince me you don't have a fever and you're not dehydrated."
......
If people still would like to prompt me with something, go ahead. I think I could do another batch of these tomorrow.
It's one word and one or two characters from any of the following fandoms: CSI:NY, NCIS, SGA, Doctor Who, Buffyverse, CSI.