More recs then you could poke a stick at. Or even a caber.
Buffy/Angel
Sure there was that one time. Now here's that other time.
"That's... almost touching," Angel said, frowning. "It's kind of disturbing, actually."
"I'm a warm and fuzzy guy."
Tara, cheese, dreams, patterns.
When Tara turns back to her, it's that one man again, carefully balancing a stack of cheeses on the palm of one hand.
"Purest of the pure," he says and looks at her from the corner of his eye, like he's hoping she gets it.
Romance in the Wishverse, which is to say, twisted and pretty and violent.
Pollen staining her fingertips, wreckage of stamens and petals. A biology lesson. Hibiscus rosa-sinensis. The word tickles through her mind and that's the craziest thing of all, how she still has all these books living there, homework knowledge filling her brain right beside this pounding want, this total, shining lack of fear.
Torchwood/Highlander/Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Friends/Stephen Sondheim's musical "Into the Woods"/Gilmore Girls.
Everything is better with Jack. Even Friends.
Five Times Jack Was in the Wrong Story
Dr Who/Torchwood
Jack sees the Doctor and the Master and himself.
The Master once, during a regularly scheduled torture session, asked him why he loved the Doctor.
Jack replied, "What, you mean you don't?"
The Master killed him particularly violently that day.
Team Awesome deserve drinks! A fantastic DonnaDoctor moment within JE.
She waits until everyone’s gotten the euphoria-induced hugging out of their system and settled into excited just-saved-the-world chatter, then she jabs the one in blue in the ribs.
No I am not addicted to fix-it fic. Hey, look over there! Ianto!
“Yeah, but you wouldn’t be expecting any more than that, right? Cos I don’t work like that, mate.” She stepped towards him, wagging her finger in his face. “I don’t do extracurriculars, if that’s what you’re expecting. I'm not having any of that nonsense, sunshine, so-”
“No,” Ianto said quickly, his eyes going wide as he cottoned on to what she was implying. “No. No. It’s all - strictly above board around here.” Well, that was a bald-faced lie, but she wasn’t to know about any of the other business anyway.
The Doctor and Donna go to the beach. Not crack, but surprisingly solemn and strange. It's about love, I think.
"Remember when I kissed you?"
"Think so, yeah. Ah. Were you thinking of doing it again?"
Little too much worry in his voice for Donna's taste, so she smacked his arm. "A shock, you said, and I thought, I know what would shock me. And it did, mate, I can tell you. I mean, human. Alien. Different species. No."
Martha has met all the members of Torchwood before. This hurts, but I would really quite like it to be true.
There’s a man waiting just beyond the landing area, and when Martha steps out of the helicopter he grins with half his mouth. “Miss Jones, I presume?” He says, straightening his tie a little bit, looking for all the world like a high-end chauffeur picking up some businesswoman up at the airport and not like he’s standing alone in the middle of an airfield at 2am two months after the world ended. Martha can’t help the laugh that forces its way up her throat at the absurdity of it all, and his expression flickers. “Are you all right, Miss Jones?”
Jack and Martha, being broken by that year. Home, scars, sex.
He spent no more than some minutes in Martha´s house - in another lifetime, buildings down to ashes - and yet he can remember with painful accuracy where she kept the teacups.
Just a pretty little mythopoetic Lonely God ficlet that will make you think.
There is a history of the Time War by an anonymous author who seems incapable of placing events in chronological order and who writes with anger and sorrow and annotates with details that no one could possibly know. The published version is a poor translation from Old High Gallifreyan, though most agree that the jokes are almost certainly rendered accurately from their original English. (Although no one has ever been able to understand the one about the eyepatches.)
This is a long and plotty look at the Handy Clone becoming something other than, well, a handy clone. Also, lots of Martha and the Master who is not the Master and alternate realities being really interesting. Perfectly characterised.
He refuses to go by any name other than the Doctor.
Rose tries an exploratory John from John Smith. He frowns like an old cat and Jackie comments that maybe he is having trouble adapting, like we had, and adds a dramatic amount of sugar to his tea.
More fixing, but cracktacular fixing. And gender swap!
In the back of the TARDIS the Doctor found the key of Rassilon, the missing preface from the Earth bible and a pair of carnivorous shoes, but she didn't find a single one of Donna's bras. Where had Donna kept her underwear? Where had Donna bought her underwear? Why had she never asked Donna about her underwear when she lived here?
Hot Fuzz/Dr Who
There are not enough words for how brilliant this is. Nicholas Angel as an unwilling companion, with bonus Danny/Nick, and future!Danny/Nick, and dinosaurs and hugs!
"I am jiggling it!"
"Jiggle it more effectively!" Hit the second guy in the head with the hilt. Clong sound as it impacts with the helmet. "You said it was high fucking tech!" Whirl and kick him in the head. The first legionary has regained his feet, and kicks Nicholas in the chest. Nicholas falls back and catches himself against the door frame.
Red Dwarf/Dr Who
The title alone, "Alone In a Godless Universe (And Out of Shake’n’Vac)", should be enough, but Lister needs somebody to deliver those babies he impregnated himself with. And Martha was in the wrong place at the right time.
Martha said evenly, “Go back to the bit about us being in a different universe.” Because if that was true - if she hadn’t just been beamed onto some spaceship but had been taken to a whole different universe - then a situation she’d thought was pretty bad was actually really, indescribably terrible.
“A good swift kick to the nads,” the voice suggested. “That’ll teach the smegger.”
Dr Who/Torchwood/Life on Mars
Six people (and that’s people in a loose sense) Martha Jones has sex with. It’s six brilliant, believable mornings after that never happened.
`But Martha, do not steal from under my arms before the sun comes forth; it be a very ill omen, and sign of weak faith in a lover. This bed is voluminous and I shipwreck and drown among it without you, and though white be the colour of fair no fairness can colour these white sheets without the dark shade of your fair.´
`Gosh. Would it kill you so just say stay a little longer? I know you are like the greatest writer ever but you are allowed to be simple, you know.´
Life on Mars/Dr Who
This is my favourite version of a popular theory.
By now, Sam is pretty sure he’s dead and this, this whole 1973 thing, is some weird branch of personal heaven generated by his subconscious. From this, he’s deduced that his subconscious hates him and thinks he needs to be punched repeatedly in the face. It’s strange, but, strangely, it does make sense. Sort of. It’s consistently strange, at the very least. 1973 is about to become 1974. Annie stays the night once a week, and Sam has bought her a bracelet he’s not sure she’ll like for Christmas. He has a large bruise on his left cheek and Gene has a matching black eye. The sounds of the hospital have completely disappeared and, most of the time, he forgets that it’s not real.
Life on Mars
Sam and Annie and all the important things that have to be sorted out.
`The Guv likes Roger Whittaker,´ he tells her one night that it’s too hot to sleep and there’s a power cut and they are trying to make out each other’s silhouettes in the dark.
`He does? Oh my God,´ Annie says. Sam thinks it’s 2006 for a moment there.
Sam likes to cook, now and then and then and now. A character study that will make you hungry.
Sam used to date a gorgeous blonde doctor who liked to have grapefruit in the morning, said it was the healthiest way to start the day. She dumped Sam because she was a second-year resident and didn’t have time for a relationship but Sam kept the habit of eating grapefruit in the morning.
Firefly
Kaylee and River emancipate Jayne, Mal worries.
"Kaylee can do it," River interrupted. "Pretty Kaylee will distract the guards. I'll creep in behind her, silent as a mouse, bring Jayne out."
"I don't think so," Mal said, just as Simon said, "I don't think that's a good idea."
Mal and Inara and River, coming apart and fitting together again. It's not something I would have sought out, but I fell for it.
“Lord, you’re a fine thing,” he says, gathering her into his arms and breathing her in. “Man who thinks you ain’t enough for him, what kind of a man is that?”
“Hearts are complicated,” she says.
“Is jealousy a thing they train out of you at that school of yours? I guess it’d about have to be.”
Wash is one of my favourite people ever.
Wash doesn't know what she's talking about, exactly, but it makes his skin prickle in fear. "Zoe?"
"Life, in the Greek," River replies.
"I--did not know that." There's so much he doesn't know, so much he wants to learn, about life, about Zoe. He takes it as a sign, clutching hope close.
Harry Potter/Firefly
Sirius on Serenity. I am perfectly happy with this being cannon. All those in favour say aye, all those not in favour sit down and shut up.
"So he's a dog and a star?" the captain asks. His patience with River reminds Sirius of Remus, makes him like the man better than he ordinarily would; the fact that he can make sense of her -- that he even tries -- when the others can't is impressive.
"We are all made of stars," River replies."
Supernatural/Firefly
Serenity has ghosts, Kaylee has Dean. Beautiful and atmospheric.
She drops his hand, but before she can ask what in the tyen shiao duh he’s talking about, a second figure steps into the light. She recognizes him even without the grease smudges across his face or the Pegasus lying in pieces around him, as though the years that’d passed were just a few days. The freckles dotted over his cheeks, the gleam in his eye and the curve of his collarbone as it disappears under his faded shirt touch something in her gut and for minute it’s like she’s been hit.
Supernatural
Just one hunt, and the ramifications. It's all in pieces, but they are very effective pieces.
"I told you, it grabbed her and she was screaming, and then she stopped. And this guy comes out of the trees, man. This big dude in a black coat with a fuckin' gun, looked like a serial killer or FBI or something. And he starts telling us all to get the hell outta there, right? And we're all standing there because it's Allison and she's all torn up…"
Dean, zombies and Brendon Urie. It's genius.
Dean looks up from the flickering green of a monitor so old it could probably be donated to a museum, when the screaming starts in the library of whatever small town outside of fucking Omaha it is he'd ended up at. His shotgun is tucked up under the bench seat of the Impala and his brother is half a country away, probably not even doing body shots off of a stripper.
Remember Sarah? I totally didn't. But here she is, with a shovel and salt, and making friends.
She always reads the obituaries anyway--it's good business, her father says, and she always thought it was morbid--but now she's on the lookout for mysterious circumstances, anomalies, things that don't add up.
Dreams suck. They really, really do.
Jess died.
Night after night she died, black and burnt or red and empty. Sometimes she spoke to him, but it was only ever one word and when he opened his mouth to reply he found his tongue gone. Fire rained down on his head and smoke filled his lungs. The world ended.
In which Sam and Dean have more family then they think.
She sees Sam waiting by the corner seven years after first meeting him. He looks harrowed, older, very much like he doesn't want to be seen. But Leslie's always been good at observation, and there he is, sticking out like a sore thumb --- leather jacket still on his back, hair longer now, medallion glinting.
Oh, oh, oh. Dean sees dead people; this is subtle and wonderful.
“You know, I never wanted a brother,” he says. “When mom and dad brought you back from the hospital I asked if I could trade you for a puppy.”
“Yeah?” Sam says. He doesn’t look up from his book. “Well too bad - I’m here anyway.”
“But you’re bigger now,” Dean says. “I could get three puppies. Or a horse.”
A Bobby backstory that is made of pure win.
And Bobby kept seeing. Saw maybe too much. Always kind of maybe knew what was coming before it did. Like thinking you knew whodunit before the movie hero unraveled the mystery at the end.
THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO BOBBY SINGER. Hell yes.
'Course Job didn't want to be in the Bible either, and you can see how that turned out.
TSCC/Supernatural
Two lawmen walk into a bar. I love both of these characters, and this imagined friendship makes me so happy.
"And what brings you to my neck of the woods? Last I heard, you were chasing Leopold and Loeb all over God's green earth."
"Just paying my dues. Not all of us can be local boys who made good." Sally brings his drink, and Henrikson sits back and lets it breathe, pulling at the knot in his tie and flashing a smile that calls her sweetheart without saying the word. "Cold lead."
TSCC/Supernatural/NCIS/SG1/Torchwood/Heroes
Five lieutenants John Connor never had, and oh, I can’t tell you how much I love this. Sam and Tony and oh! Zoe O’Neill.
The Walker System. They'd thought it was a potential Skynet component. John grins. Boy, were they wrong.
SG1
Tequila, and a trace of OT4. Good times.
Sam had come in at some point and stroked his head. "Poor Daniel," she'd giggled. Jack had muttered something inaudible behind her and he'd felt a male hand rub his back.
"I do not understand why so many of you partake in an activity that often leaves you ill," Teal'c said.
NCIS
Maybe I might have watched the season two re-runs, and maybe I might have cried when Kate dies, again, but you will never prove it.
You don’t know what to expect. This is all so sudden. It’s a shotgun wedding, you think, her hand in yours and last minute proposals. This is funny, and this just cracks you up. Cracks. You. Up.
Totally.
Dexter/NCIS
Dark and brilliant.
He never takes souvenirs, already aware he's going to be a cop. Too dangerous to keep evidence around. While he takes them down he plays a movie instead. He prefers black and white, he discovers later, because when he watches the movie later the memory comes back in overwhelming technicolour.
And Bogart, but he's not sure why.
Sort of a sequel to the above, just as dark and brilliant, with more interaction.
I walked in when he was elbows-deep in the guts of a living man. I liked DiNozzo; he's got flair, so I let him live even though he was poaching on my territory. He got scared, of course, until I picked up a knife and said, which is pretty snappy if I say so myself, "Mind if I cut in?"
Dexter/Angel
Kate ends up in Miami, trying to sort out her head. She meets Dexter, who doesn't exactly help, but doesn't make it any worse.
“She transferred in from the LAPD,” Masuka continued, “I've got a friend in forensics up there who said she went batshit crazy, obsessed with the supernatural, total X-Files case. Think she'd sleep with me?”
SGA/X-Men
This is a big idea, and well thought out. Not exactly a cross over so much as a melding out the universes. Long story short, mutants on Atlantis. A little dark, often clever.
“We’re on the same side, Doctor Weir,” he said. Then he shrugged, casually. “For what it’s worth.”
The coin shot off the table. Elizabeth reacted without thinking: caught the spinning piece of metal before it could slam into the opposite wall, held it, started to set it down before she felt the general move in and take it from her.
She turned back to him. He was still sitting-slouching-in the chair, his arms folded across his chest, as still as her own had stayed, flat at her sides. He grinned at her, like they’d just shared a great joke.
“Enjoy your exile,” he said.
SGA
Moebius, Atlantis style. All the timelines are twisted around and back on themselves and it's brilliant.
"I see what he's arguing," she said, "except we didn't alter the timeline-we left a video tape for ourselves to check the present against, just to be sure."
Rodney snorted. "And you think you captured every single detail of an entire universe in a few hours of video? For all we know, in the universe of origin there was a different, different president of Brazil, or the open-source movement toppled Microsoft, or I'm allergic to peanuts." He paused. "God, that would be a depressing existence, wouldn't it?"
An AU of the AU of Vegas, Because Ronon and Teyla should have been there. This is a pairing I would never have considered, but really kind of works here.
Rodney’s voice, though tense, was a balm. Teyla bit back a laugh as he added a shimmering mental image of one stick figure stabbing another. He still could not produce the complex images that one born to pair with someone such as herself would be able to but he had his own ways of making himself understood.
House/SGA
Cracky but cute and clever. The Ducklings in space.
Two weeks after he was fired Chase had finished watching all three seasons of Grey's Anatomy and six seasons of Scrubs (well, the episodes were shorter), reorganized his entire kitchen, returned his kitchen back to the way it was, alphabetized his porn collection by cover girl last name, and invented a new drink called the Lupulupy (non alcoholic, tastes like litchi.)
iCarly
Oh, shut up. This is a post episode fic for iTwins that is too brilliant not to rec. Bikinis and Frothy the cat and handholding and some unexpected kissing.
Sam watches her sister fill the drawer with frilly pyjamas and bras and folded underwear, and notes that all her personal hygiene products are not included. This meant that Melanie had probably realized that it was a bad idea to leave shampoo bottles out where Sam could fill them with hair dye and mayonnaise, and other such loving improvements. Apparently, her fancy school had made her smarter.
Mizu wrote this ages ago, before iKiss even. Before most of the internet even noticed this show. It's a Sam and Freddie character arc; it's long, elegant, artistic and the voices are absolutely perfect.
I snap a picture of her, haloed in the lamplight and the mist, and when I see the print drying on the rack in class, it’s like she’s rising on a glowing platform, splattering upwards with light.
Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy
Romance, Trillian and Marvin. Kind of breaks your brain, doesn't it? But it works, in a sort of unexpectedly smooth mesh of crack and reality.
The Encyclopaedia Galactica defines relating to people as having or establishing a reciprocal relationship with one or more sentient organisms. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, in many ways a more optimistic tome, defines it as a waste of time
Has there ever been a more appropriate fandom for "aliens made them do it"? No. There has not. Complete with narration and commentary.
Ford drew back in astonishment. He was not completely unskilled as a lover, and quite often elicited screams of "Oh God!" and such, but usually later in the proceedings. All one could realistically expect in terms of vocal encouragement at this point were moans and heated whispers, so Arthur's yelp was quite startling.
Star Trek XI
Spock. And sex. They appear mutually exclusive, and then, not.
His first sexual encounter occurs during his third year. The experience is mutually dissatisfactory.
Cadet Thomson appears emotionally unaffected. She retrieves her bra from the floor and refits it to her breasts. "You win some, you lose some," she says.
They're like a family. A family with a gambling problem.
Commander Spock showing emotion in the next week: 7-1
Although practically every one on Enterprise is endlessly fascinated with Spock (chiefly, in Sulu’s opinion, because of the unusually high possibility that he will go postal on them, compared to most Vulcans), it is a group of crewmen in Maintenance who bet the most and, increasingly, as the voyage goes on, win the most.
In which the Enterprise med bay is exactly like a GP's clinic.
The Chief Engineer, Scott, appears two days in. He’s got a rash in a place no man wants a rash.
Yay Chekov! Yeah, that's all I got. This is a clever and very sweet story, but you'll just walk away going yay Chekov!
“Remember the bet we all had last week about how long he could go without getting into a fight? How long did he last?”
“37 hours, 32 minutes, 17 seconds” Chekov replies grudgingly. “Mr. Spock won the bet. I think he cheated.”
Gilmore Girls
Paris' proposal. And this is quite, quite perfect.
"As I said, I would like to make you a proposal."
"I'm going to be very disappointed if you don't have a PowerPoint presentation."
"Dammit!" Paris said. She blew her hair out of her face with an angry puff. "Dammit, I told Terrence that you'd be expecting it, I said that if one wants to be taken seriously then one must present oneself seriously --"
The one where they're all grown up. A beautiful future femslash, one of those that feels true.
Her publisher encouraged her to make that the title of her now-bestselling book-length rant on liberal guilt and liberal fear. She bought her condo with the residuals, but by then, she was already earning a comfortable living from her Salon column and her appearances on cable news shows. Doyle left her because she spent too much time on the computer and too little time in bed, and because he despised blog culture too much to respect her success. She started dating women when Michelle Malkin accused her of being a lesbian. Now, she'll take home men, women, whomever is sufficiently in awe of her. But she has never loved anyone as much as she loves her job.
Pretender
It's like road fic, but without a car. There is opera, arguing, sex, cliches and a beautifully tragic sense of familiarity.
“Why do we keep doing this, Parker?”
It’s the forbidden question. The Holy Grail of their entire relationship in seven short words.
She flinches, and he waits for the lie. He doesn’t have to wait long.
This is a cross-over, but I want you to guess. Hint: it's awesome.
She learns as fast as he does, understands as much, shows the same gaps in her experience of the world. He thinks at first that she must be another Pretender, but the truth is stranger and more wonderful.
Leverage
Thanksgiving fic! OT3 and delicious.
Eliot scoffed. "If I'm gonna be cooking a multiple-course dinner for two, someone better be either dead or puttin' out at the end of the night, s'all I'm sayin'."
Alec definitely had a response to that, just starting with "Do you even hear yourself talk," but Parker knocked his snappy comeback right out of his head when she popped up from God knew where and said, "I'll come!"
Chase fic! He really did look for her.
He found it at the Dorchester, which didn't seem like Parker's kind of place. Looking around the furnishings that had far, far too much in the way of floral print for his comfort (that much floral print was just wrong), he got a vivid image of Parker jumping up and down on the furniture, leaving take-out containers all over the place and scandalizing the maids.
Story fic! Mostly dialogue, and it's very good dialogue. There's also some wonderful advice in there.
"You can't start like that, Parker. You have to engage your audience, describe your protagonist."
"Eliot was up a mountain being short with funny hair. Eliot. Not the mountain."
Pie fic! Hardison and Parker need something to do. No, it's not porn.
Alec felt the sweat on the back of his neck go all cold. Bored Parker never ended well. "I guess we could go eat," he said slowly, running through the possibly ways that going to eat might be a bad idea. He couldn't think of any.
Airport fic! Hilarious and bantery, and bonus points for mentioning the Game.
It had either been, “Hey, let’s annoy Nate by being as stupid as we possibly can,” or “I can kill you all with just the sprinkles on my frozen yogurt.” It was hard to tell with Eliot, but Hardison was pretty confident it was the first one.
Ocean's 11/Leverage
Elliot helps Hardison. In Vegas.
“I don’t do Vegas,” Hardison said firmly.
“You don’t do Vegas?” Nate asked with an eyebrow raised.
The Addams Family/Angel
This is one of those cross-overs that seems so obvious once it's been explained. Obviously Wednesday works at Worlfram and Hart. Of course little retainer wearing Amanda grew up to be Harmony.
Wednesday may not have changed - though she is older and her chest finally filled out, a lot - but Amanda, she can see, is truly no more. The soul is gone, and in its place is something darker, older. It's quite disturbing to think of that girl, that pretty, blonde girl, as she knew her that summer, becoming a creature of the night.
Wednesday, naturally, approves.
Being Human
I really really love this show, and I love it's fledgling fandom. This is sort of slash, sort of incorporeal OT3, all lovely.
Maybe she’ll write that book if she gets bored: A how-to-guide for ghosts to communicate with vampires and werewolves living in their homes. Something like: “Ten Easy Steps To Better Communication Across Spiritual Planes," or "Tricks to Get Vampires and Werewolves to Leave the Bloody Toilet Seat Down. She Knows She Doesn't Actually Use The Toilet, But It's Just Rude." She doesn’t imagine there’d be much of a demand.
Discworld
The perfect Discworld voice, now with bonus femslash! Death (temporary holiday cover) and a werewolf (human shaped) walked into a bar and proceeded to get quite merrily drunk.
“I'm completely human,” Susan replied, “and now, if you'll excuse me, the Death of Rats is trying to get my attention.”
Gossip Girl
Normally I would not be caught dead anywhere near Gossip Girl, but this is femslashy apocalyptofic, so I couldn't not read it. And then it was brilliant.
B and S would never let a little budding health crisis ruin their girls' night out!
But watch out, ladies: We hear symptoms of infection include blurred vision, foaming at the mouth, loss of appetite, clammy hands, and the awakening of unusual appetites... In other words, we're pretty sure it's a little worse than the diseases you're used to keeping on the DL.
Tropic Thunder
All little snapshots of what happened next. This walks an incredibly thin line between straight story and crack, fake people fic and real people fic. Just like the movie! Except more use of the word drongo.
The Tropic Blunder madness is not easily squelched. After a while, everyone wants a piece of the greatest cast of the most famous failure of all time. It's a bonanza for the agents, who can't overexpose their clients fast enough. The tabloids are weeping with the joy after the inevitable disappointments of Hilton, Lohan et al, and before you know it, everyone's gay, getting fat, and/or adopting small orphans from countries most of their reporters can't find on the maps.
Futurama
What it says on the label.
five crazy (almost suicidal) things Fry did to get Leela´s attention
Invader Zim
Oh Dib. Oh Gir.
That was a little weird. Then again, every day is a little weird when you've dedicated your life to the pursuit of truth!
Criminal Intent RPF
Man, I should not love this near as much as I do. I mean, L&O:CI RPF? But it's brilliant, careful and tense and strangely satisfying.
Later that week, a copy of Adventures in Babysitting finds its way to his house, and she claims to know nothing about it.
Top Gear/Chronicles of Narnia
I'm sorry, but it's Top Gear/Narnia. I don't need to explain that.
"Tinted windows! It's basically a Chelsea Tractor with slightly better fuel efficiency. How much of a cock do you have to be to put tinted windows in something like this? And the overhead light's bolloxed. Did you do that Hamster? Are you pleading insanity because you broke the car?"
Richard just looks at Jeremy crossly and says, "There was a faun." Then he walks off quickly before he's tempted to punch something.
Justice League
Short and sweet and sharp and hilarious. Batman and Superman in the sun.
The 31st Annual Gotham Celebrity Golf Tournament was not somewhere Superman had ever expected to be. In fact, he still wasn’t quite sure how he’d ended up there; only that it had something to do with Batman and a charity and that Flash had been laughing in the background.
Fables
The Fables comics, before they descended into war/plot/war/plot rinse and repeat, were fun. Much of that fun was the Snow/Bigby relationship, and oh look! A honeymoon!
"You know me," he said, ducking into the backseat as well. "Man's best friend."
Snow laughed at that, turning to him as he gave the address to the driver. "What an accurate summary of your character," she said.
Daily Show/Colbert Report
I think pundit slash is silly. Luckily, so does this fic. Stephen needs a running mate.
Like any good New Yorker, Jon spent a lot of time in therapy. He never questioned the fact that he spent far more time talking about Stephen than talking about his wife.
Spaced
As much as I love the platonic ending of the series, I love little baby Luke from Skip to the End even more. And this is where it starts.
"Whoa there, pickle," Tim says. "Take a breath. You're not going to die alone."
"I'm not?" She raises her teary face. Her nose is running, but there's hope in her eyes.
"There's always Colin," he says. "Assuming of course that you die within the next, let's estimate about 18 or so years, taking into account the little bugger's most probable lifespa-" Daisy's face crumples. "I mean dogs don't live that-" Her head clunks down onto the table. Tim stops. "Anyway, you'll find someone else." He quickly changes tack. "Someone who appreciates your art and remembers your birthday."
Pirates of the Carribean
Just little snapshots of brilliance.
So maybe she's contemplated shrinking his head and carrying it around with her, but she much prefers this.
And I haven't even started on the Gaiman influenced things.