It's Tuesday!
Jul. 12th, 2011 08:51 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
lmx-v3point3.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
comment_ficHello all, I'm still LMX, welcome to a sunny Tuesday.
After yesterday's darkness I think this calls for a day of LIGHT, so that's todays theme. As before, interpret the theme as you feel fits best.
The all important rules:
~ No more than one prompt per post, three prompts per fandom or five prompts in total. If one of your prompts is filled you may fill another
~ No prompts containing spoilers until at least one week has passed since airing/release. If your fill contains spoilers, please label it clearly with the fandom/season/episode and leave enough space for people to avoid it.
~ Feel free to fill a prompt even if it has already been filled.
For the sake of the codemonkeys please format your prompt correctly.
Fandom, character or pairing, prompt
or for crossovers
Fandom/fandom, character or pairing, prompt
(please have at least some of the prompt on the top line for coding purposes. It doubles the time it takes to enter a prompt into the archive if they have to reformat it for you)
A few examples
Xmen, Remy LeBeau, UV sensitive eyes
Leverage, Eliot/Sophie/Nate, Dragging him kicking and screaming into the light
Burn Notice/Covert Affairs, Any, reunion on the beach
After yesterday's darkness I think this calls for a day of LIGHT, so that's todays theme. As before, interpret the theme as you feel fits best.
The all important rules:
~ No more than one prompt per post, three prompts per fandom or five prompts in total. If one of your prompts is filled you may fill another
~ No prompts containing spoilers until at least one week has passed since airing/release. If your fill contains spoilers, please label it clearly with the fandom/season/episode and leave enough space for people to avoid it.
~ Feel free to fill a prompt even if it has already been filled.
For the sake of the codemonkeys please format your prompt correctly.
Fandom, character or pairing, prompt
or for crossovers
Fandom/fandom, character or pairing, prompt
(please have at least some of the prompt on the top line for coding purposes. It doubles the time it takes to enter a prompt into the archive if they have to reformat it for you)
A few examples
Xmen, Remy LeBeau, UV sensitive eyes
Leverage, Eliot/Sophie/Nate, Dragging him kicking and screaming into the light
Burn Notice/Covert Affairs, Any, reunion on the beach
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-07-12 07:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-12 07:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-12 02:09 pm (UTC)Alright they did in the context of Eliot kicking some mook who then screamed but that…
Oh hell, she’d already lost the metaphor.
And really this wasn’t some sort of kicking, screaming, desperation to hold onto the life he had had before them.
She and Nate sit to either side of him, say words they both knew Eliot never thought he’d hear again, never thought he’d deserve again.
And with no fight, no kicking, no screams, just a silent surrender he looks back to them and smiles.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-07-12 07:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-12 10:28 am (UTC)They meet on the beach; who would be suspicious that someone from DC would want to hear the waves and smell the sweet salty air?
"Fiona," he says as she nears.
"Augie," she says, voice full of her smile, "How did you know?"
"Even in our circles, you're the only who smells like Givenchy and C4," he says as she leans up to kiss him on the cheek.
"What can I do for you?" she says.
"Actually, I have something for you," he says with a smile, handing her a document.
She opens it to read and snorts a satisfied laugh. But, ever sensible, she thinks to ask, "And what are you asking in return?"
He smiles flirtatiously, in part because he knows Michael is probably watching with his binoculars, and places a fond hand on her shoulder. "Nothing now. But I might feel free to ask a favor if I really need one someday."
"Always," she reminds him. She's happy to help one of the few people she genuinely considers friends. "But why are giving me this?"
Augie shrugged. "I may have heard someone complaining about someone with your history being allowed to participate in cover ops."
"And is it possible my detractors are also people you want to screw over for political reasons?" she asked.
Augie smiled.
Fi rolled her eyes. "DC. Politicians everywhere, mediocre sushi, I don't know how you can stand it. Nevertheless, it's appreciated, Augie."
"Any time, Fi. Visit me sometime if you ever get sick of playing house with the giant-killer."
"Is that what they're calling him?" she said, amused, "And sorry, Augie, but I think I'm going to try to make this one stick."
"You're going to grow old together with Michael Westen?"
"Or go down shooting together. Either way, I do appreciate the gift. It was nice seeing you, Augie."
They embraced, the breeze cooling them even as they felt the warmth of an old friend and lover, and they parted ways.
When Fi got back to Michael, he was pretending not to care.
"So who was this 'contact'?" he asked.
"Just one of my CIA contacts," she smiled.
"Your - you don't have - Fi. What's going on?" He said it slowly, as if every word were a sentence on its own.
She handed him the document. "Looks like they can't complain that I lend a helping hand on missions." She smirked.
"Fi. This says that you have higher clearance than my handler."
"Yes, that sounds right," she says, smiling casually at his incredulity.
"Who is this person again?" he asked, forehead wrinkling.
"Sorry, Michael. That informatin is above your pay grade."
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-07-12 08:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-12 08:03 am (UTC)query
Date: 2011-07-12 07:52 pm (UTC)Can you tell me where you got those two quotes? I swear I wrote something with both of them, but now I can't find either story. (Or they might even be from the same story.)
Re: query
From:Re: query
From:Re: query
From:Re: query
From:no subject
Date: 2011-07-12 08:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-12 08:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-12 08:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-12 08:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-12 10:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-12 10:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-12 11:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-12 11:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-12 11:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-12 11:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-12 11:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-12 12:31 pm (UTC)Filled
Date: 2011-07-12 03:25 pm (UTC)Arthur knows someone will be waiting next to him when he wakes up. For now though, he's content to do some mental cleaning.
He looks across the wheatfields of his home town and smiles. They had been surprised when he brought them here, obviously they had never considered that he might have ever held a scythe in his life, or carried a two-string of hay from field to barn.
That's why this place was so innocous. They would never associate it with anywhere personal for him: wheatfeilds tend to look alike regardless of where one is.
Arthur begins to walk towards the farmhouse that's just barely vivsble on his right. There will be warm, wet laundry drying in the summer sun.
He remebers the summer grass smell of his bedsheets. The smell still reminds him of home, of before they had to sell the farm and move in with his mother's aunt in the city.
He passes down the three rows of wash lines and smiles.
Then someone touches his shoulder and it breaks his reverie.
He turns to see Eames. Eames is smiling a soft smile that invites kisses, though Arthur doesn't know if Eames is aware of that.
Arthur kisses Eames.
"Hello Darling." Eames says. "It's about time to wake up, yeah?"
Arthur checks his watch and reluctantly nods. Moments later there is a sensation of falling and he wakes up.
That last glimpse, though, will stay with him forever.
The sun casting shadows on the sheets, and Eames was still there, smiling and promising so many things with his eyes that he'd never speak aloud.
Re: Filled
From:no subject
Date: 2011-07-12 01:12 pm (UTC)If you knew it was wrong why did you do it
You don't know, you didn't mean to, it slipped your mind
And it feels so good to feed a habit
You're just making the most of your borrowed time
Waiting for the white light
~ White Light, Vienna Teng
No Fill
Date: 2011-07-12 09:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-12 01:13 pm (UTC)What does sunshine taste like?
Date: 2011-08-31 03:02 am (UTC)Parker stands out on his balcony, head tilted up towards the sky, and her mouth wide open. An expression of pure bliss shines on her upturned face. She’s beautiful.
He comes up behind her and smiles into that part of her neck where it meets the smooth slope of her right shoulder. Her blond hair tickles his cheek. “What are you doing, Parker?”
She leans back into him. “What does sunshine taste like?” she asks.
The unexpected question makes him chuckle, but that’s what he loves about her. Her spontaneity, her craziness. “I dunno, you tell me,” he replies.
She grins and squirms in his arms until she’s facing him. She kisses him, slowly, deeply. “It tastes like you,” she says breathlessly, and kisses him again, but lightly this time.
Then she’s gone, prancing back into his room, yelling, “Let’s go to the zoo today. I wanna steal a tapir!” over her shoulder, her bright hair streaming out like the sun’s rays behind her.
He laughs, heartily. She always has this effect on him. “Put some clothes on first, and we’ll see.”
Re: What does sunshine taste like?
From:Re: What does sunshine taste like?
From:no subject
Date: 2011-07-12 01:15 pm (UTC)Difficult to Impress
Date: 2011-07-13 02:49 am (UTC)Arthur knew Eames liked to think of himself as an alert person and generally he was. One did not become the premier forger in their line of work without a keenly observant eye, after all, and no one could argue with the fact that Eames was the best. Well... Arthur could, and had, but even he'd known he hadn't really meant it. What mattered though, was the fact that Eames hadn't seemed to pick up on their tail, too busy *not* asking about Arthur's childhood in Sunnydale to notice the surprisingly stealthy individual lurking along behind them.
Fortunately Arthur was paranoid enough for both of them, especially after his discussion with Xander Harris. When it became clear that they weren't going to lose the man following them, he grabbed Eames by the front of his truly vile shirt and ducked into an alley with him.
Eames looked startled, then gave Arthur a slow grin and moved closer to murmur against his ear, "I missed you too darling, but I must say I'm surprised, alley sex doesn't seem like your thing."
Flashing him an impatient glare, Arthur murmured back, "We're being followed. Don't shoot him, it won't do any good."
To his credit Eames raised his eyebrows but didn't argue, just backing up to give Arthur room to move. He certainly wasn't any slouch in a fight, but he was honest enough with himself to know that Arthur was much better hand to hand. He retreated just in time, a dark, chilling voice spoke from the mouth of the alley just a moment later, "Where's Harris? We know you have him. Just tell me where he is and this'll be quick."
Frowning grimly, because while he'd expected that, it still didn't make him happy, Arthur shook his head, "It'll be quick either way."
The charge was also expected, as was Eames's startled, "What the bloody..." when he saw the thing's distorted face. Arthur was a little too busy to explain at that particular moment, given that the man that had been following them nearly crashed into him. whirling out of the way at the last moment, reminded all over again how *fast* they were, Arthur crouched, pulled the wooden stake from a modified ankle holster. A second later there was nothing left of their stalker but ash blowing down the alley.
"What the *bloody* hell was that?" Eames demanded, then snatched the stake from Arthur's hand, "Is this a wooden stake? Really? Are we fighting bloody vampires now love?"
Arthur raised an eyebrow at him, "You saw his face. He *turned to dust* when I staked him in the heart. What do you think?"
"I think this is not the time for you to be giving me that 'you aren't really this stupid, are you?' smirk," Eames grumbled looking down at the stake, then shoving it back at Arthur and checking his totem. Arthur could see the light of realization dawning in Eames's eyes when his totem confirmed that this was reality. "Vampires. And it was after Harris?"
Plucking at Eames's sleeve to get him moving, Arthur tucked the stake away and nodded, "Harris is one of the people from Sunnydale who hunt them. You heard the death rate there? Vampires, and other assorted monsters, are the reason why. That's why I told you all that we should never go after someone from Sunnydale, we grew up with things most people claim don't exist, it makes us more difficult to manipulate."
Eames was quiet long enough for Arthur to look over at him with a frown, but when Eames looked back, the man just laughed, "Well now I know why you're so bloody difficult to impress."
Re: Difficult to Impress
From:Re: Difficult to Impress
From:no subject
Date: 2011-07-12 01:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-12 01:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-12 01:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-12 01:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-12 01:30 pm (UTC)Any, any, in the cold light of day
Castle/Beckett
Date: 2011-07-13 12:07 am (UTC)Most had happy thoughts, pleasant and warm associations with the term 'daylight'. Bright, sunny, abundance of joy- a sun-soaked day of frolicking at the beach, a serenity, a sense of calmness. But not for him, not now. Not anymore. Daylight was no longer an antidote for darkness. It didn't banish evil with the speed of light, rather, it laid evil out in all its chilling glory. Daylight was no longer a strength of warm fuzziness that kept cold darkness at bay. Daylight was an unflinching, relentless tool used to bare a person's weaknesses, their sins and their evil for all to see. It was a dash of cold water that brought people out of the denial they wrapped themselves in.
It was a bright morning as he watched a friend being laid to rest, long before his time because of hubris. It was that very self-same, not-a-cloud-in-the-sky sunlit morning when as he watched, a bullet tore its devastating path through his best friend's body as she paid homage to their fallen friend. Their fallen friend whose misdeeds they had both been complicit in sweeping under the rug.
The sun was still out, higher in the sky now, but he could feel its burning glare, painfully accusing against the back of his neck, even through the tinted glass window in the waiting room. Why hadn't he insisted on Beckett wearing a vest? Why had they assumed that the men responsible for her mother's death and countless others would be satisfied with their captain's death?
The light of day was no longer warm for him. It would be cold until those responsible were punished, including himself. It would be cold until a doctor walked through those double doors and told him that Beckett would be okay.
Re: Castle/Beckett
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