comment_fic | Monday: Clichés

Hey guys, my name is

rockerbaby423 and I'll be your host this week!

To start us off, the theme is clichés. For those of you that are unfamiliar with them, clichés are trite or overused expressions and phrases. Today it's time to reclaim some of the originality and breathe new life into old clichés!

Have fun and remember to follow the rules:

Three prompts per fandom, and no more than five total. If one of your prompts is filled, you may post another.
No spoilers for new shows/seasons until at least one week after airing.
If your fill contains spoilers, please warn for it and leave enough space for people to pass by.
Feel free to fill a prompt even if it is already filled, the more fic the merrier!

Feed the overworked codemonkeys correctly formatted prompts (and not overly long, don't write the story for them, inspire them):

Leverage, Parker + Team, so hungry I could eat a horse
Leverage, Team, a bit like closing the barn door after the horse escapes
Vampire Diaries, Damon/Elena, finders keepers losers weepers

Nothing grab your interest? Our Lonely Prompts need love too!

(tag=cliches)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Warehouse 13, Pete/Myka, Between a rock and a hard place isn't exactly hyperbole when working at the Warehouse.

“Myka, wait!” Pete ordered, checking his pace as the vibe that had been humming the entire mission suddenly flared to life. He reached for her but was a second too late as the artifact took hold and pulled her off her feet.

“Pete!” she shouted in surprise, reaching for him.

“Myka!” He stopped at the edge of the doorway of the small shack where he could feel the tug of the artifact but wasn’t caught in its grip. He watched as she came to a halt in the middle of the room, pressed flat against the floor.

“Where is it?” Myka asked breathlessly. She braced her hands against the ground and tried to push up but couldn’t get higher than a foot off the ground.

“I don’t know. Can you see it from where you are?”

“No. “ Myka felt the scrape of rock under her palms, the sting confirming the influence of the artifact over the hardwood floor she could see that she was pressed against. Whatever was holding her down was harder to identify, but it was hard and definitely fulfilled the second half of the artifact’s cliché. She was definitely caught between a rock and a hard place.

“It has to be nearby,” Pete said, mostly to himself.

“Hurry,” Myka encouraged as what was pressed against her back moved in closer.

Pete was halfway around the shack when he spotted what he was looking for. Sitting on the inside on the windowsill was a large rock with a metal bar poking through the middle. “Found it!” he shouted in at her.

“Hurry,” she requested, voice strained.

“I am.” He tried to figure out how he was going to get at the rock. He couldn’t go through the room or he’d end up next to Myka. Opening the window meant risking the influence of the rock doing the same to him outside.

“Peeeete.”

“I’m hurrying,” he shouted, heart in his throat as it was every time her voice took on that tone. He could see her through the window and even her hair looked flattened. “I’m trying to figure out how to neutralize it without it pulling me in.”

“It only works in this room,” Myka pointed out, voice both breathless and annoyed. “Smash the damn window and throw the bag over it.”

Pete didn’t waste time cursing himself for not realizing that himself. Elbow protected by his jacket, his smashed his arm through the window. The tug against his arm was extreme, but with most of his body outside, the rock couldn’t take hold. It took only a second more to fling the silver bag over the Artifact.

He flinched away at the sudden release of pressure that made his ears pop.

“Myka?”

“I’m okay.” He took a moment to watch her start to push herself up before taking the now bagged Artifact and rushing back around to the door.

She was sitting on her knees in the middle of the room when he walked in. He could see a scrape on her cheek from where she’d been pressed and dragged across the rocky floor.

He stood above her and offered a hand. She gave him a grateful smile even as he pulled her to her feet, feeling wobbly after the intense pressure that had nearly crushed her. “Thanks.”

“What else are partners for?” he asked with an easy shrug the belayed the relief he felt. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he led her back to the car. “I’ll tell you one thing for sure, I’ll never think of 'stuck between a rock and a hard place' the same way again.”

Myka, who swore she could feel the phantom weight against her, could only nod in complete agreement.

End.

Monday: Clichés

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