Fic: The Visitation, G (meta-fic) by inkscribe
Title: The Visitation
Author: inkscribe
Pairings: absolutely none
Kink: lame SF xrefs
Warnings: Crackfic? You be the judge.
Rating: G
Words: ~600
Spoilers: for real world TPTB only
Locations: my LJ
Feedback: yes, please!
Summary: Unexpected visitors show up.
Author's Notes: I swear this really happened. Well, almost. ;-)
Thanks to mice1900 for the angsty yet amusing conversation that birthed this little piece o’ nonsense. (Erm, I mean the story premise - you can tell the certain-somebodies that they don’t need to come visit again - really!)
Disclaimer: Anything you recognise is not mine; please don’t sue, we’ll both regret it in the morning.
The writer stood in her kitchen, thinking. Dishes first, or should I get some vacuuming done? She sighed, turned to the dishwasher, and began loading it. The vacuuming would have to come last.
A sound startled her from her reverie. What was that? Sharp, hard knocking on the back door. Opening the door, she was surprised to see two shadowy figures.
“Um,” she said. “I don’t really need any Amway.”
They stared at her, silent, not entirely menacing but a little strange, with their matching dark suits and serious mien.
Oh! she thought, adding: “I don’t really need any religious tracts today, either. But thanks!” She tried to close the door, only to find herself unable to move, as if held by an invisible Force.
“You will not harm Carson Beckett,” one of the shadowy figures intoned, waggling her fingers in the writer’s face.
“What?” the writer gasped.
“Carson Beckett. Thou shalt not allow Carson Beckett to die in your fanfic.”
The writer was silent - shocked. What in the heck was - She wrestled to calm herself, agitation warring with confusion and a deep need to get back to the dishwasher so she could get on with the vacuuming.
“Erm -” she began. “How did you -”
The second shadowy figure stepped forward. “There was a disturbance in the Force,” she said, her voice deep and melodic.
Too much whisky with her breakfast? the writer wondered.
“It was like a million Carson Beckett fans cried out, and demanded you be silenced!” the shadowy figure continued.
“Erm -” the writer began again.
“Carson Beckett isn’t the character you want to kill off,” the first shadowy figure said, again with the spooky intonation and again with the waggly fingers.
The writer suddenly snapped.
“Hey - what do you take me for? I’m a bloody fanfic writer, not The bloody Powers That Be,” she shouted.
The shadowy figures dropped their hands, the waving motion stopped.
“And were you -” the writer’s eyes narrowed in recognition. “Were you trying to use Jedi mind tricks on me? You think I’ve got a weak mind or something?”
“Erm -” began the first shadowy figure.
“Listen, you two -” the writer said, irritated. “I’m in the middle of a freaking wild and scary story arc, not to mention trying to get my dishes and the vacuuming done before the kids get home. The last thing I need today is have members of some sort of Save!Carson!Beckett!Mafioso show up and try Jedi mind tricks on me!”
“Erm -” the second shadowy figure began.
“I mean, have you ever considered that just because the people who make the show are complete and utter fools to even consider such a course of action, the people writing out there - those who love and treasure those characters - have you ever considered that they would never be so egregiously stupid?”
They stood then, the three of them, staring at one another.
The first shadowy figure nodded. “Right then,” she said sharply. “So we’re all on the same page.”
The second nodded also.
The writer crossed her arms and glared at them. “Presumably,” she growled at them.
“Wellthankyouverymuchandhaveaniceday,” the first shadowy figure said. Then she and her sidekick turned heel and fled.
The writer watched them go, shaking her head and clucking.
“Sheesh. Those two weren’t any help at all.”
Followed by:
The Imposition
The Confabulation
The Suspiration
Author: inkscribe
Pairings: absolutely none
Kink: lame SF xrefs
Warnings: Crackfic? You be the judge.
Rating: G
Words: ~600
Spoilers: for real world TPTB only
Locations: my LJ
Feedback: yes, please!
Summary: Unexpected visitors show up.
Author's Notes: I swear this really happened. Well, almost. ;-)
Thanks to mice1900 for the angsty yet amusing conversation that birthed this little piece o’ nonsense. (Erm, I mean the story premise - you can tell the certain-somebodies that they don’t need to come visit again - really!)
Disclaimer: Anything you recognise is not mine; please don’t sue, we’ll both regret it in the morning.
The writer stood in her kitchen, thinking. Dishes first, or should I get some vacuuming done? She sighed, turned to the dishwasher, and began loading it. The vacuuming would have to come last.
A sound startled her from her reverie. What was that? Sharp, hard knocking on the back door. Opening the door, she was surprised to see two shadowy figures.
“Um,” she said. “I don’t really need any Amway.”
They stared at her, silent, not entirely menacing but a little strange, with their matching dark suits and serious mien.
Oh! she thought, adding: “I don’t really need any religious tracts today, either. But thanks!” She tried to close the door, only to find herself unable to move, as if held by an invisible Force.
“You will not harm Carson Beckett,” one of the shadowy figures intoned, waggling her fingers in the writer’s face.
“What?” the writer gasped.
“Carson Beckett. Thou shalt not allow Carson Beckett to die in your fanfic.”
The writer was silent - shocked. What in the heck was - She wrestled to calm herself, agitation warring with confusion and a deep need to get back to the dishwasher so she could get on with the vacuuming.
“Erm -” she began. “How did you -”
The second shadowy figure stepped forward. “There was a disturbance in the Force,” she said, her voice deep and melodic.
Too much whisky with her breakfast? the writer wondered.
“It was like a million Carson Beckett fans cried out, and demanded you be silenced!” the shadowy figure continued.
“Erm -” the writer began again.
“Carson Beckett isn’t the character you want to kill off,” the first shadowy figure said, again with the spooky intonation and again with the waggly fingers.
The writer suddenly snapped.
“Hey - what do you take me for? I’m a bloody fanfic writer, not The bloody Powers That Be,” she shouted.
The shadowy figures dropped their hands, the waving motion stopped.
“And were you -” the writer’s eyes narrowed in recognition. “Were you trying to use Jedi mind tricks on me? You think I’ve got a weak mind or something?”
“Erm -” began the first shadowy figure.
“Listen, you two -” the writer said, irritated. “I’m in the middle of a freaking wild and scary story arc, not to mention trying to get my dishes and the vacuuming done before the kids get home. The last thing I need today is have members of some sort of Save!Carson!Beckett!Mafioso show up and try Jedi mind tricks on me!”
“Erm -” the second shadowy figure began.
“I mean, have you ever considered that just because the people who make the show are complete and utter fools to even consider such a course of action, the people writing out there - those who love and treasure those characters - have you ever considered that they would never be so egregiously stupid?”
They stood then, the three of them, staring at one another.
The first shadowy figure nodded. “Right then,” she said sharply. “So we’re all on the same page.”
The second nodded also.
The writer crossed her arms and glared at them. “Presumably,” she growled at them.
“Wellthankyouverymuchandhaveaniceday,” the first shadowy figure said. Then she and her sidekick turned heel and fled.
The writer watched them go, shaking her head and clucking.
“Sheesh. Those two weren’t any help at all.”
Followed by:
The Imposition
The Confabulation
The Suspiration