comment_fic | Wednesday

Wednesday - Colors

It's Wednesday, and our prompt today is colors. Maybe one of your characters has a secret favorite color. Maybe they really look great in blue shirts. Maybe they accidentally (or not-so-accidentally) get covered in sparkly green glitter. Your prompt can be silly or serious, longer or shorter, but it must have something to do with a color.

The rules:
-No more than five prompts in a row
-No more than three prompts per fandom
-If your prompts get answered, feel free to post more
-No spoilers in your prompt for at least a week after publication/air date
-If there are spoilers in your fic response, please warn and leave adequate space following the warning to let folks give it a pass.

Please take mercy on our hard working code monkeys and format your prompts properly (and try not to make them overly long).

For example:

-Stargate Atlantis/Stargate SG1, John/Cam, dress blues
-Hawaii Five-0, Steve/Danny + Grace, Grace makes Steve the pinkest card ever for his birthday
-Sanctuary, Tesla and Magnus, "you're out of red wine again"

Tag=color

Have fun!

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Pan Am, any/any, blue skies

All the internets go to you!

Brilliant and funny fic. Perfection.

Donna puts the saucepan full of pasta back down on the kitchen counter out of the way as John runs around her legs and under the dining table in the middle of the room. At least he tries to. The over-large police helmet – a plastic kids one some uncle got him, deep blue with a silver crest – makes him a little too tall and he bounces back slightly as it catches the table edge.

“You alright, love?” she asks.

“No stopping!” John ducks his head, scrambles under the table, and successfully comes out of the other side.

“Not even in the name of the law?” Donna asks, hands on her hips.

“I gotta go catch the bad guys!” her son shouts, already in the living room.

She doesn’t quite remember when he started this newest obsession, but she likes that he plays at being a policeman bringing people to justice rather than at killing people like the Thompson’s brat next-door. There are good guys and then there are the real good guys, and the real good guys save people.

It’s just that sometimes when she looks at him with that ridiculous hat slipping down over his eyes she gets a thrill of excitement and possibility and wonder, that John could go anywhere, anywhere at all, and he’d have the most fantastic time, running and bringing justice, and she swears that she can see stars reflected in his eyes.

It’s the blue of the helmet. It’s the colour that flashes at the heart of a diamond, that creeps in at the edges of the sky as dawn approaches, that lurks in pictures of the swirling universe. It’s so much excitement, but just behind it there’s something else. Donna doesn’t know what to call it. Fear maybe? That little voice that grown-ups have telling them that there are consequences after the adrenalin rush has worn off and that consequences can hurt. That being able to go anywhere isn’t everything.

Maybe it’s just that John’s her little boy and she’s nowhere near ready to let him go yet, however fantastic anywhere might be.

Miami Vice (TV), Tubbs +/any, Tubbs misses the colors of New York City.

Supernatural, Wee Sam &/or Dean, Crossing paths with a cat with golden eyes.

I love the Doctor's names for all the thingamabobs in the TARDIS.

SGA,Lorne/Zelenks. Behind those glasses, Radek's eyes are very blue.

Clothes aren’t something anyone looks forward to getting on holidays, even when they’re an adult. Particularly not when what they’d been hoping for is a new camera. So when Mark’s mother gives him a clumsily-knitted blue and white scarf for his birthday, he has to mask his disappointment.

But she knitted it herself, (and his mother hates knitting) “to keep you warm when you go out on your own.”

Mark doesn’t really get along with his parents. Well, that’s not true, really. It’s just that, in finest Jewish tradition, they insist on smothering him.

But he keeps the scarf. It’s warm, even if it’s not the height of fashion, and it comes in handy, particularly when their power is cut off in the middle of winter.

He might not get along with his parents, but he’s grateful they care about him.

Hee, thanks, glad you enjoyed it. :)

Awww! This is lovely! And I was listening to Rent when I was doing the prompting, so it seemed natural. :D

Supernatural, Sam/Dean, going for a drive to enjoy the fall colors

Supernatural, Sam/Gabriel or Dean/Castiel, rainbow

Stargate SG-1/Atlantis, any, along they way they started color-coding things- chevron-orange for the Milky Way Galaxy and chevron-blue for Pegasus

NCIS, team, nobody's quite sure where the coloring books and crayons came from, but they're not about to let them go to waste

It had been the first thing he had really noticed back then.
A smile brighter than the sun and a green sucker being held aloft. The startling white of teeth in the harsh New York sun as Neal Caffrey conned Peter Burke for the first and sadly not the last time.

Ever since, he had wondered about that moment. Should the snow white smile have warned him? Should he have snapped cuffs around that elegant wrist as it presented him with that sucker?

Should he have known he’d fall and fall hard the precise moment his eyes had met Neal’s?

They didn't see this one coming...

It was supposed to be a quiet trading mission, SG1 were along to see some of Pegasus while they were visiting the galaxy.

But with John's ATA gene, and Cam's protective streak; when a piece of Ancient tech lit up in the simple village, their combined bad luck meant a violent retreat to the Stargate.

And they left those dirt streets awash with blood...

Does gen include John/Sherlock?

Thanks! Hope it was something like what you were looking for :)

Hilarious and fantastic. Very cute, very them :)

Thank you, I'm happy you liked it!

(I have seen the painting mentioned herein. In person. It is amazing. I want it for my own wall.

Also, I hope all the names/personas make sense.

And, um, this started out as something different, with a more obvious use of your prompt. But this is what it wanted to be, so.)

Methos has skill as a painter. Of course he does. He has eternity to master anything, so he has mastered everything. But the truly crafty always keep something back.

Adam Pierson was not an artist. A doodler, certainly, but nothing impressive. And Ben Matheson is nothing to write home about, either, but he's loved the arts all his life. So when his sponsor Duncan MacLeod calls him early one morning to invite him to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, well. He could refuse, of course. But a good little boy wouldn’t, and Ben is so very young, and desirous of an adult’s praise and approval.

"Ben!" MacLeod calls. "Come see this one."

"And whose clever idea was it to take the children to the museum today?" Ben murmurs to Mr. Dawson, hurrying to MacLeod’s side with an exuberant smile.

Mr. Dawson’s guffaw follows him, to a huge painting of horses. “Gorgeous,” Ben breathes. MacLeod claps him on the shoulder, and Ben would say something more, but his eyes are following the lines of the horses. He wouldn’t be surprised if they thundered right off the wall.

Ben has never ridden a horse. He’s been poor all his life, and lived on the streets for three months, and was caught by the police, turned over to CPS, and fostered by a couple determined to see him excel. And then he was chosen by MacLeod, and sent to one of the best schools in the country, and here he is, staring at the most wonderful thing he’s ever seen, in utter awe.

Ben can only marvel at the horses. They look so strong. He wonders what it’d be like to ride them, and if he had an audience beyond Mr. Dawson, he’d ask MacLeod, and hang onto every word.

Methos, though. Methos knows. He misses riding across a plain, his brothers abreast of him, out of the sun and into the horizon, the world theirs for the taking. Ben will go back to his dorm and dream of horses. He’ll check out horse books from the library, watch videos online, and fall head-over-heels in love.

But Methos. Methos will go to the place where home is tonight, pull out a well-hidden sketchbook, and breathe life into his favorite pale mare again.

“Isn’t it something?” MacLeod asks.

Ben nods enthusiastically. He’s never seen a more amazing sight in his short, pain-filled life.

Methos… Methos is a master of horses. In his next life, he’ll return to them and ride out of the sun, into the horizon.

Edited 2011-11-03 03:09 (UTC)

This is really interesting :D Love how Methos' identities seem to have a sort of half-life of their own. Still don't know much about that fandom, but I love the teasing glimpses you give me of it :D

I'm glad you like it!

"I've got a surprise for you, Uncle Steve."

"What is it, Grace?"

"You have to close your eyes."

Danny watched his lover close his eyes and put out his hands while Grace took out Steve's card. He smiled when he saw the pink envelope, obviously more Grace's preference than Steve's.

"Here you go."

Steve opened one eye. "Am I allowed to look?"

Grace nodded. "Happy Birthday."

"Thank you."

Steve opened the envelope and took out his card. He glanced at Danny who simply smirked.

"Do you like it?"

"It's lovely, Grace. Thank you."

It was obviously home-made and made with pink construction paper. When Steve opened it Danny saw him smile. Grace looked relieved.

"I love it Grace. I'll put it on the table."

When Grace went into the kitchen Danny picked up the card. A pink glittery boat had been painted inside the card. Grace had pasted a pale pink piece of paper onto the brighter pink background so she could write her message to Steve. The Happy Birthday greeting on the front of the card was made from pink stickers. Grace had even put a picture of a pink cupcake on the front of the card.

"Guess Grace likes pink."

"Yep. She must still love her daddy more though. I got glittery hearts on my last card."

Steve smiled. "I didn't expect a card from her. It's really nice of her to make it."

"All the way over here she couldn't wait to give you her card. I wasn't even allowed to see it first because it was for you."

Grace came back from the kitchen with a juice. "Is it okay to have this, Uncle Steve?"

"Sure."

"Thanks."

"Thanks again for my card. It must have taken a lot of time."

Grace hugged Steve and sat on the couch. Danny smiled and gestured towards the kitchen for Steve to follow him in.

"Grace doesn't have to be back at Rachel's till eight. I know you don't like lots of fuss but maybe I could get some cupcakes for after dinner."

"Okay, Danny. Not for me you understand. Just for Grace's sake."

"Sure, Steve. Whatever you say. I guess you'll just have to force yourself to have some delicious cake."

Steve leaned in and kissed Danny. "Thank you for today. My birthday breakfast was lovely and I like kind of being a part of Grace's life. She's a great kid."

"I know. Listen I'll go now and you get started on dinner."

Danny got four cupcakes, figuring Grace might want to take one home. He had a feeling that Rachel probably helped a little with the card. He looked at the birthday candles and was about to choose a blue one but instead went for the pink. Grace would definitely approve.

After dinner he lit the candle and at Grace's insistence put it on one of the pink cupcakes. He and Grace sang to Steve and when Steve blew out the candle Grace told him to make a wish. Danny smiled happily as Steve and Grace cut their cakes in half so that they each had half pink and half yellow. Steve was really good with her which was great. Danny put his arm around Steve and scooped up some of the lemon icing on his finger. "Lovely."

Steve kissed him quickly and Grace rolled her eyes.

"Having a boyfriend is yucky."

Danny grinned. "Just keep thinking that way, Grace, and daddy will be happy."

When the time came to leave Steve thanked Grace once again and promised to take his card to work to put on his desk. She went running out to the car and Danny pulled Steve close for a slightly longer kiss.

"We'll have a private celebration when I get back, birthday boy."

"I like the sound of that."

Dean would never admit that he enjoys this, just driving for the sake of driving, enjoying--no, luxuriating in the beauty around them. But Sam knows fall has always been Dean's favorite season--he hates the cold of winter, and in the summer he burns crispy if they aren't careful. And now, after they've seen so much, lost so much, he needs it more than ever.

So every year, Sam whines and pouts and plies Dean with puppy eyes until they take a week or two off and just relax for awhile. Find a decent hotel for once, one with room service, because once they get there Sam doesn't let Dean leave the room for the whole first day. Dean complains about that, of course--he wouldn't be Dean if he didn't--but Sam can see right through it to how much his brother loves that long afternoon filled with long, lazy kisses that burn deeper and hotter than anything heaven or hell ever put them through, taking his time to open Sam up and drive him mad until they have to spend the second day sleeping just to catch up.

It's become a tradition over, a gift that Dean never asks for and that Sam is always happy to give him. It's never the same place twice, tho Sam supposes if they live long enough they might have to pull a repeat eventually. For now, though, it's enough to have this, a few stolen moments of peace and beauty before the world pulls them back. Sam smiles over at Dean, sprawled in a pile of leaves like the world's biggest kid.

It's more than enough.

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Page 4 of 5

Wednesday - Colors

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Next Stop: Anywhere (Gen, PG)

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Re: Bluest Blue Ever (Gen, U)

Reposted to fix formatting

OMG RENT!prompt

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Re: OMG RENT!prompt

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FILLED: White Collar, Neal/Peter, 100 words on white, green and blue

Warning - melancholy...

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Highlander, future!fic, gen

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Pink Is Pretty

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