Monday: Firsts

[lilyleia78]

Hello fellow comment_ficcers! I’m lilyleia78, and I’ll be guest hosting this little shin-dig for the week.

For my first theme, let’s do firsts – first love, first fight, first day, first meeting. Was it love at first sight or did the first realization of love come later? Tell us about the first time something happened to your characters, or have them tell each other. Let’s see your creativity at work!

Please be kind to our over-worked codemonkeys and use the correct format (the second is for crossovers).

Fandom, Pairing, Prompt
Fandom1/Fandom2, Pairing, Prompt

For example:
SGA, Lorne/Parrish, first flower of spring
Buffy, Spike/Buffy, ‘Do you remember the first time?’

And remember not to post more than 5 prompts in a row, and please limit yourselves to 3 prompts per fandom per prompter. If a prompt is answered, you can prompt again later in the day.

Don’t see anything that whets your appetite? Give a Lonely Prompt a home.

Comments

[lilyleia78]

SGA, Lorne/Parrish, first flower of spring

[jayfray18.livejournal.com]

Hope you like it!!

His back hits the wall with a thud and Lorne moans, watching through slitted eyes as his lover slowly goes to his knees in front of him.

David looks up, a wicked grin on his face. Licking his lips, he opens the fastening on Lorne's pants, and reaching in pulls out the hard cock. Pressing forward he licks at the head, gathering up the pre-come that is already leaking from the slit.

“Oh God, David”, Lorne gasps, as Parrish swallows him down in one smooth movement. Clutching at the wall, trying not to thrust, Lorne pants hard. Looking down as David pulls off him slowly until only the tip is in his mouth and starts to suck, one hand massaging Lorne's balls whilst the other gently strokes him. Lorne feels his legs start to tremble as Parrish does that thing with his tongue around the head, almost massaging the sensitive tip.

“Not ...gonna …..last..... much..... longer” Evan gasps out, his hands on David's head, playing with the hair behind his ears. Parrish just looks up through his lashes and hums, taking Lorne all the way down once again, swallowing when the head hits the back of his throat. Evan loses his inner battle and comes hard.

Slowly sliding down the wall, he pulls David in close and kisses him, chasing the taste of his own release in the recesses of David's mouth.

“What bought that on?” Lorne asks still gasping, “Saw the first flower of spring this morning” his lover replies.

[lilyleia78]

Buffy, Spike/Buffy, "Do you remember the first time?"

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

"Do you remember the first time we met?"

"Yeah, love. How could I forget it?"

"It was at the Bronze..."

"You were dancing..."

*laughs* "Yeah. You always did call it that, didn't you?"

"... Well... most people tend to call dancing... dancing..."

"Yes, but only you call fighting dancing."

"Fighting?"

"Wait... how do you remember it?"

"You were dancing with your friends. And... and it was the hottest soddin' thing I'd ever seen. The way you moved, love... such... power, and... predatory grace... in every move..."

*hushed* "Wow. You have a way of putting things that just... mmmm... Go on. Tell me more about this meeting of us that I don't remember..."

[ribbon-purple.livejournal.com]

SGA, Teyla/author's choice, "The first time I laughed for real."

With No Logical End

[neierathima.livejournal.com]

SGA, Teyla/author's choice, "The first time I laughed for real."

More of Teyla's memoirs, follows, We Were Soldiers Once, and Young (http://community.livejournal.com/comment_fic/46502.html?thread=10613670#t10613670), and Bombs Bursting in Air (http://community.livejournal.com/comment_fic/43426.html?thread=9642402#t9642402), and They Say He Made a Good End (http://community.livejournal.com/comment_fic/28695.html?thread=5019927#t5019927). Chronologically between Bombs Bursting in Air and They Say he Made a Good End.

Teyla watched her son-in-law attempt to explain ripples in space-time to his niece. He was Radek's protege, and very bright, but Teyla's granddaughter, appropriately named Meredith, was a tiny copy of Rodney, and she was not appeased by anything less than a full explanation, despite only being nine years old. Her sister Chara, however, quickly grew bored with it, and ran on wobbly legs towards her. Teyla caught the child in her arms, pulling her close and hugging her. Eventually, Chara tugged on her sleeve. Teyla turned to face her.

"Tell me 'bout Granpa Kanaan. Tell me about how you got married."

"Again?"

Chara nodded, settling into her grandmother's arms for a story, and Teyla allowed herself to muse that time really did have ripples.

---

Teyla stood watching as the body was sent through the wormhole. Though tears threatened, she did not let them spill. Even now it was a privilege to know the manner of ones death.

John leaned closer to her, and whispered in her ear.

"Twenty years Teyla, was about him was worth it? Worth knowing."

She knew he asked not to upset her, but to remind her of that which was good between her and her husband, in his own emotionally clumsy way.

----

Teyla let herself relax against the pillows as she watched her husband introduce their three year old son to their new daughter. Though she was still tired from the birth, she could not stand to sleep while her family bonded near her.

Kanaan brought the girl, Tagan, over to her. He then sat Torren between them. Kanaan looked on in awe as Teyla nursed their child. Teyla grinned at him.

"It is not anything you have not seen before."

"But I am still amazed at it. Amazed that you would marry me at all. I cannot figure out why you would."

She couldn't help her sly grin.

----

Teyla watched Dr. Keller study the results of her scan on the computer. Though nothing seemed amiss, she could not help feeling a little apprehensive.

Keller turned to her with apologetic eyes.

"This is gonna take awhile to finish. Maybe you could, uh, tell me about him?"


-----

Teyla scanned the woods around her, searching for any sign of pursuit. She did not think there would be, she was the best at this game in the village, and could usually tell where they other children were, but it would not help to become cocky. As she made her way around a blind corner, something dropped out of the tree in front of her.

Teyla almost screamed. It was a boy, obviously, one of the ones from the group they had joined with after the latest culling. But aside from wearing the traditional Wraith mask, he was also nearly naked, but for his underclothes and some sort of strange grass skirt and crown. That, and the vibrant paint covering his bare chest. He was also doing some sort of dance that was perhaps supposed to be intimidating.

She could not help herself. Teyla burst out laughing. She laughed so hard her sides her, she laughed until she could no longer stand and she laughed as she fell to the ground. When she recovered her breath, the boy was leaning over her, smiling widely.

"Who are you? Why are you dressed like that?"

He smiled even wider as he helped her up.

"I'm Kanaan. And you're Teyla. They said you don't laugh."

"You did all of this just to make me laugh?"

He - Kanaan- nodded, and seven year old Teyla decided then that she would marry him.

-------

Chara wiggled impatiently on her lap, and in retaliation Teyla tickled her stomach, causing her granddaughter to laugh. Teyla laughed with her, the sound rippling through the garden, joined by the laughter of all her family and echoed back to her, greater than it's origin.

[ribbon-purple.livejournal.com]

SGA, Rodney/John, "The first time I saw him die."

[jayfray18.livejournal.com]

John stood and watched, oblivious to all around him except for Jennifer and the medics, as they worked on Rodney, his body arching up as the paddles on Rodney's chest shocked his heart.

“Nothing”, Jennifer stated, “charging to 300.............clear”, Rodney's body arching again, still no response, “starting compres- wait” Jennifer stopped, bloody hands raised over Rodney's chest. They hear the blessed sound of the heart monitor, slow at first, but the beep steadily getting stronger.

“John, you need to come away” Teyla said gently, trying to move him away from Rodney.

John just shrugged her off, not moving. “John”, Teyla tried again.

“It's not the first time I've watched him die, you know” John stated almost conversationally, staring at Rodney and the medical team still trying to stabilise him, but not actually seeing them “that was on our second day here, his allergy, the citrus one. Some drink one of the mess staff made, had orange in it, we had to use his epi pen. It didn't work, typical of Rodney to get a faulty batch. Beckett brought him back that time.”

“John”, Teyla almost pleads, trying to get John to move, but knowing it will be pointless. They have been here before. As John said, it isn't the first, or even second time he has seen his lover die.

[speccygeekgrrl.livejournal.com]

Star Trek, Kirk/McCoy, the first time Kirk took the Kobayashi Maru test.

Star Trek, Kirk/McCoy, Kobayashi Maru

[neierathima.livejournal.com]

Jim was already half way through the bottle by the time Bones figured out what bar he was at. Foolishly, he'd started with their usual one, and when Jim wasn't there, had worked his way down to the less reputable bars inside the area which didn't require a vehicle to get to. The bar wasn't quite so bad that he was worried for Jim's safety but it still wasn't anyplace a cadet would normally be found. At least they were both out of uniform.

Even starting as soon as he got in the door, it took him most of the rest of the bottle to get a drunk, belligerent Jim out the door and on a public shuttle. Not back to the academy, because anyone who crossed their paths would be looking to see how James T. Kirk handled himself on the test, but to a hotel that parents often used around graduation.

He dumped Jim straight into the shower, clothes and all, and took a little pleasure in turning the water on cold. Served him right for getting worked up over a stupid test. Everyone failed, and everyone hated it, but they didn't ditch their friends to go get drunk and freak out. It was just like Jim to act so dramatic about something that every cadet took as a matter of course.

There was muffled cursing from inside the bathroom.

"You ok in there Jim?"

Jim stumbled out of the bathroom, butt naked, sopping wet, and threw himself bodily at him. Not expecting the weight, they both tumbled to the floor. He thought for a brief moment that Jim was trying to hit him, until he realized Jim's lips were pressing clumsily into his neck and face. He was sobbing quietly and mumbling 'bones' over and over.

"Hey, hey, what the hell Jim?"

"You died."

"Pretty sure I'd know if I was dead, Jim. I'm a doctor."

"Not yet. In the test."

"Jim, I wasn't even there."

"But you will be. On my ship. And if I can't stop them, you'll die."

Suddenly a number of things became clear. They were going to talk about this, and screw Jim's usual reluctance to go anywhere near the vicinity of a serious conversation about his feelings. But not while Jim was snoring on his chest. And wasn't this just like Jim. Normal people just said "i like you" but Jim had to be different.

He dumped Jim on the bed, then stripped off his own clothes and slid down next to him. He pressed a kiss to Jim's cheek -staying well away from his alcohol laden breath - and whispered softly,

"Love you too Jim."

He still wasn't going to help Jim out with the hangover.

[speccygeekgrrl.livejournal.com]

Fringe, Walter (/William Bell?), the first trip

[speccygeekgrrl.livejournal.com]

Heroes, Sylar/Mohinder, the first apology

Heroes, Morning After, Sylar/Mohinder, the first apology

[kuwdora.livejournal.com]

Mohinder rose from the bed and shuffled to the bathroom, trying to ignore the stiffness in his hips and shoulders from the night before when Sylar was testing his limits. He carefully rolled his shoulders a few times and shifted his weight, finally relieving the niggling pressure on his bladder that woke him in the first place. After he washed his hands and face, he left the faucet running long enough to fill the cup and stare at himself in the mirror, eyeing the faint bruising that shaded his neck. He shut the water off and carefully ran his fingers along the purpling skin and began brushing his teeth.

He heard the door long before it opened and and Sylar appeared behind him, still dressed in the borrowed sweats and faded grey tank that made it more difficult to see him in the slanting shadows of the predawn hour. Mohinder took a few steps to the side, allowing him room to maneuver. Once inside Sylar leaned against the closed door for a moment, staring at Mohinder in the mirror. Mohinder continued to brush in silence and Sylar continued to watch him him with sleepy features that Mohinder almost wanted to grin at. Instead he leaned over the sink to spit out the rest of the paste and rinsed his mouth. When he straightened, Sylar was right behind him, his hands on his hips, head pressed between his shoulder blades, the pressure just enough irritate him. Mohinder swayed a little to try and shake Sylar off, but Sylar’s arms tightened around his waist.

“Why are you awake? It’s not even 6 in the morning,” Sylar said into the back of his neck with warm breath and a tentative kiss, obviously ready and willing to convince Mohinder it was better idea to go back to bed.

Mohinder dropped the toothbrush back in the cup, the plastic bounce echoing in the small bathroom.

“Because I am,” Mohinder said simply, wiping his hands and face with the towel.

“Really,” Sylar murmured and reached underneath Mohinder’s arm to grab the toothbrush and cup and filled the cup with water. Mohinder detangled himself from Sylar and took the toothbrush back while Sylar drank.

“It’s going to take me forever to get going. I feel like I can barely move after last night,” he said. Sylar lowered the cup from his lips and a wave of bashfulness swept across his groggy features. Mohinder took the cup and placed it on the sink and gathered Sylar up into his arms. “Don’t even apologize,” Mohinder said and kissed him on the lips. Sylar hummed and turned Mohinder by the shoulders and began kneading his shoulders, careful to skirt the pressure points around his neck that were already overextended.

”Oh,” Mohinder said and braced himself on the sink closed his eyes, leaning into Sylar’s firm touch. Sylar’s quiet laugh in his ear made Mohinder shiver, or maybe it was the way Sylar ground his knuckles between his shoulder blades. “Maybe you should apologize and continue to—,” Mohinder said under his breath, “apologize,” he hissed happily.

[jayfray18.livejournal.com]

It's Christmas Eve, and they are staying in a motel again, not one of the cheaper ones, John was trying to make something of the holiday for the boys. He looks around the motel room, at the small tree in the corner, the even smaller pile of presents underneath it. The lack of any other decoration in the room noticeable by it's absence. Mary had always sorted that out, just like she had always known what to buy Dean.

Sam makes a snuffling noise in his travel cot and John goes over to check on him, tucking the blankets around his baby son, gently stroking his back to quieten him down again, not wanting Dean to wake up yet. Dean had had a nightmare again last night, and John didn't think he could handle another, not today.

He knows he's doing the right thing, tracking down Mary's killer, following the leads he has been given by other hunters he has managed to find. But it's so hard, especially now, at Christmas.

Dean keeps asking if Santa will know where they are, as he hasn't sent Santa a letter. It's important that Santa knows about Sammy or he won't get any presents this year. Mommy usually helps him write his name at the bottom, and he had wanted to write Sammy's too, had been practising, before everything happened. John tried to explain that Santa would always know where good little boys are, so not to worry, that Santa would find them both.

And don't forget to leave the milk and cookies for Santa, Dean had reminded him thankfully whilst in the local store, along with the carrots for Rudolph and the other reindeer's. Not that there is a fireplace to put them in front off. 'God' John, thinks, biting a carrot in half, 'I hate these things', spitting the carrot out into the bin, remembering Mary joking about it last year, and the year before, eating the carrots so he didn't have to.

Sitting down on the bed, he watches his sons sleep, knowing he could give them everything they want and need; could give them a home, even a mother, eventually. He just can't let Mary's killer, and his own need for vengeance go.

Merlin, Arthur/Merlin, First Day of Winter

[tracevincente.livejournal.com]

~*~*~*~
“Arthur,” Merlin said, quietly.

Arthur stood at the window, his back to Merlin and his arms wrapped around himself. “I hate the first day of winter, Merlin.” Camelot, normally so full of activity and colour and life, was a monotone of dreary grey, bleak and oppressive and still.

Moving to stand behind Arthur, Merlin placed a tentative hand on Arthur’s waist and felt him shiver. “You’re cold, sire. I’ve warmed a bath for you.” Merlin took Arthur’s arm, tugged gently, and Arthur followed, unresisting.

Merlin watched Arthur worriedly as he stood, stock-still and unseeing, as Merlin removed his clothing, piece by piece. Arthur’s expression never changed, even as he stepped into the tub and sank down into the hot water. Merlin bathed him in silence, the only sounds in the room the crackling of the logs on the fire and the gentle lapping of the bathwater.

Drawing the soapy linen over Arthur’s hunched shoulders and down his back, Merlin washed there with large, soothing circles. He stroked every inch of Arthur’s body; his arms, his hands and feet (so carefully, between each finger, each toe), his long legs and strong thighs and between, gently washing there though that part of Arthur was as still and lifeless as the rest.

After rinsing Arthur with clean water, he dried him as carefully as he had washed, and wrapped him in furs that he’d warmed before the fire, before leading him to the bed. Arthur sat on the edge, his eyes large and sombre as he watched Merlin move about the room, picking up clothing and fetching a small vial from the table.

“Here, sire. Drink this.” He tilted the bottle at Arthur’s lips and Arthur drank with no protest. “Gaius made it for you, to help you sleep tonight.”

Arthur nodded, then climbed beneath the blankets that Merlin had turned back. He looked up at Merlin. “You’ll stay with me tonight?”

“Of course.” Merlin undressed quickly and slipped beneath the blankets with Arthur, wrapping his arms around Arthur when he moved close to huddle against Merlin. Merlin rubbed Arthur’s shivering arms as they lay, naked, pressed together from forehead to foot.

Arthur pulled his head back to look at Merlin’s face. “Was he proud of me, Merlin?”

Swallowing the lump wedged in his throat, Merlin nodded. “Yes, sire. He was.”

“Did he…did he love me?”

Merlin looked into Arthur’s eyes and couldn’t bear the distress he saw there. He leaned forward and kissed Arthur’s forehead. “Yes, Arthur. He did.”

Arthur nodded and tucked his head beneath Merlin’s chin. Sooner than Merlin would have thought, Arthur relaxed, limp within Merlin’s arms and his breathing grew deep and even. Merlin slipped his fingers into Arthur’s hair and pressed another kiss to the top of Arthur’s head.

“Sleep well, my king,” he murmured, and then tried to drift into sleep himself. They would have to rise early in the morning for Uther’s burial.

[darling-lisa.livejournal.com]

It happened by accident.

One minute, he had been on the couch, sipping his beer and trying to kick Jensen's ass yet again in Mario Kart, and the next thing he knew, he was rushing out of the room, a man with a mission.

Jensen's words rang in his ears as he stormed through the party, telling Jared all about how he had seen Chris flirting with Jeff earlier in the night, how creepy it would be if the Oklahoman hooked up with "Dad," and how from their body language, he might need some brain bleach stat.

Christian fucking Kane was making a move on Jeff.

The fuck?

Of course Jeff was hot, no one could deny that. And he had an easy way about him that made everyone feel at home, feel like they had his undivided attention and would make them want to do anything to keep from losing that. But Jared had heard enough stories about Kane and his love 'em and leave 'em history to want Jeff to be treated like that. He deserved better and fuck if Jared was going to let that blue eyed bastard turn Jeff into just another notch on his god damned headboard.

He found them in the kitchen, Jeff leaning against the cabinets an empty glass in his hand and a wicked little smile on his face. Kane was in the process of pouring shots from a tequila bottle, and as Jared entered the room, he caught the word "bodyshot" rolling out in Kane's sex voice.

Everything was a blur after that, except for the feel of Jeff's stubble against the palms of his hands, and the taste of whiskey lingering on his lips as Jared licked tentatively at them before pressing his mouth down. He remembers with crystal clarity the tiny gasp of surprise that he swallowed from Jeff's mouth, and can tell the exact moment the older man started kissing him back, his lips moving to suck at Jared's lower lip, making him groan. He can still feel the burn of Jeff's hands sliding under the hem of his t-shirt and kneading at his lower back as he pulled him closer. And he will never, ever forget the taste of Jeff's tongue as it slid into his mouth demanding entrance.

Jared wasn't a blushing virgin, and he has had his fair share of kisses in his life, but as first kisses go, it leaves all the others in the dust.

[snarky-kat.livejournal.com]

Dollhouse, Alpha/Echo, first time she notices him back

[vampedvixen.livejournal.com]

“Castiel.” Dean knocked on the door of the bathroom. He had tried to be understanding today as the newly-turned-human got used to life as a mortal. It was after all his fault that Cas fell from grace. Still, patience never was one of the Winchester's virtues. “We were supposed to meet Sam at the bar an hour ago. Are you still trying to figure out how to shave?”

“No. I figured that out.”

“Than what is it?” He sighed, rubbing his forehead. Cas was going to be the death of him, if he wasn't the death of Cas first. “We really have to go--”

“I have a penis, Dean.”

Dean stood there, taken aback. He raised his eyebrows, not know if he caught that right.

Castiel opened the door a crack. His eyes were wide, edging on surprise and shock. “I have a penis, Dean. I've never had one before. Angels have no need for genitals. And this is very.. new. I think I have discovered a new understanding of why male humans think with their 'other brain'.”

“Okay then.” Dean didn't know what else to say and could only nod slowly. Then, he recovered and smirked. “I'll let the two of you get acquainted then.”

[red-handed.livejournal.com]

Supernatural | Dean/Sam | First Day after the end of the World

[katzb101.livejournal.com]

A sky that is coloured dark red, black round the edges and shot through with the occasional gold flash is what greets them as they wake that day. They had fought, first each other – then together when necessity had brought them back to one another; to save what they could, to be who they were needed to be. Light and dark, the two halves of the same whole. They were lost until they reached a deal and then they'd won. Saved what was left.

But for what – this armageddon? This not quite hell on earth? Dean shakes his head not quite able to make it all add up. How could this be the saviour of the world? There's a movement in the still air around them and he's not surprised to find Cas standing beside him.

'You were given free will, what to you do with it is your own choice'.

The words aren't spoken but he 'hears' them all the same. It doesn't help. He's still feeling disquieted, unsure... incomplete. That is until a hand touches his shoulder, Sam's he knows. And what ever wasn't there before snicks into place just as another golden flash streaks across the sky. This time seeming to clear a path through the red black showing that there is still blue beneath it.

'A welcome home gift for a prodigal son.'

And with that very odd thought Cas is gone leaving him and Sam to watch the red cloud slowly cover the blue. Unconsciously, he rests his head against his brother's shoulder as they watch, not surprised to feel Sam's fingers wind into his, even less surprised when his own tighten against his them. Though that still doesn't stop him wondering just how they're going to do this.

“One day at a time, Dean, one day at a time.”

[moonchildfic.livejournal.com]

Leverage, De-aged!Eliot/Nate, the first (and last) time Nate yells at Eliot.

*pets little Eliot* Poor little thing *winces when Eliot kicks my shins for calling him a little thing. Nate just glares.* Sorry.

The first (and last) time Nate yells at Eliot, Leverage, de-aged!Eliot/Nate

[entropynchaos.livejournal.com]

Oh, sweetie, you should have expected the kick *facepalms* *backs away from Eliot...slowly* Hey - I'm not the one who called you a poor little thing! Go take it out on Hardison! XD



There's mess...everywhere. Sophie's gone shopping. Again. Sometimes Nate suspects she doesn't actually go shopping every time things get awkward - no one can spend that much money, after all. Parker's sitting on the edge of the conference table, swinging her legs and Nate doesn't think he's ever seen her so serious, not even back at the beginning with a gun in her hand. Hardison...well, Hardison's actually working for their current job, head down behind his laptop, but Nate suspects he's using it more as an avoidence technique than anything else.

Eliot's sitting, cross-legged, in the very middle of the table, as if he thinks Nate's going to be less likely to get to him that way. He's got a small hand mirror that looks like it was filched from Sophie's purse and the entire contents of the first-aid box strewn out in front of him.

"He won't let us help," Parker whispers when Nate shoots her a questioning look.

Won't let them help...the man...kid probably doesn't know how to let anyone help.

Nate swallows when he rounds the table so he can see more clearly. Eliot's got a black eye, a bloody nose and a cut high on his cheek like someone smacked him with a ring on. He's currently cleaning his split lip.

He's five...or as close to it at the moment as makes no difference.

"Parker, Hardison. Go find Sophie." Nate says - orders, really, and the two of them vanish as quickly as possible although Nate isn't watching them go. His eyes are on Eliot, tiny shoulders tensing up under his T-shirt, and Nate takes a seat in the nearest chair to Eliot, reaches out and lays a hand on one tiny shoulder. "What the hell happened, El?" he asks, and Eliot frowns, won't answer, just turns away slightly and keeps cleaning himself up. "Look at me!" Nate snaps, voice raised and Eliot freezes, turns back and his eyes are wide - even the bruised one.

Nate realises he's standing up - got to his feet at somepoint, but he doesn't know when, too mad at whoever hurt Eliot like this to care.

"You answer me when I talk to you," he says, voice still loud. "Now. What. Happened."

"Kids." Eliot says, putting the mirror down carefully in front of him and keeping his head lowered. "Beatin' up on someone inna playground. Stepped in. Tried to help."

...and it's like all the rage has just been sucked out of Nate, because it was kids that did this and Eliot's so small for his age, still having to over-compensate for the lack of bulk, and he would never have stood a chance.

"You pick your fights, El," Nate says, his voice tight, sighing just slightly. "You don't go into a fight you have no way of winning."

But Eliot isn't looking at him, gaze focused on the table and he actually seems to be shrinking, pulling in on himself and Nate goes to touch him, to pull him in close, and Eliot flinches away.

"...don't," Eliot mutters, pulling away to the other side of the table and he's about to slip down off it when Nate lunges and drags him back. "Lemme go," he yells, hitting out, but all Nate can hear are the sobs, and he wraps his arms around Eliot, lets him fight it out, tiny fists swinging and tiny feet kicking - swings Eliot up into his hold, stands there and takes it until Eliot stops and starts clinging onto him instead. "...s'not fair."

"I know," Nate whispers, hating himself for shouting, hating the other kids for doing this, hatehatehating Isadora for making this happen.

When Eliot's a bit calmer, Nate sits him down on the table, pulls his chair up close, and he cleans Eliot up as gently as he can, running his fingers through Eliot's hair and pressing a kiss to his forehead when he's done before he lets Eliot clamber into his lap and curl up there. Hell, he's got a couple of hours - might as well spend it doing this as anything else.

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

HIMYM, Barney/Robin, telling her (rejection angst, please :P hehe)

Rejection Cuts Both Ways

[lilithisbitter.livejournal.com]

Ted wasn't sure what had happened on the night after his 31st birthday party, but Barney showed up in jeans and a t-shirt with an oversized baseball cap on his head. Lily refused to talk to Robin and Barney only talked to Lily and Marshall. It was like a bubble, Robin sat at the bar, drinking her straight scotch, Lily, Marshall, and Barney had migrated to a corner booth where they remained curled up in silence. One month of this. One agonizing month.

"He's taking it too hard, the baby," Robin said when Ted had asked her, jabbing at her ice cubes with her nails. One of them had snapped off and there was a little spot of dried blood at that spot. "No suit, shaving his hair off-"

"What? Barney shaved his head?" Ted cut her off and glanced at the booth.

The cap had shifted, revealing too short blond hair beneath it, barely an inch long. Barney pulled it back down and let Lily rub his arm. "Apparently that's how Barney deals with a really bad loss like someone he really loves, well that's what Lily said. She said 'The first time with Shannon, he chopped his ponytail off... you thought he wasn't going to shave his head, you bitch? You thought that saying no wasn't going break his heart?' I mean, what's the deal... Barney's as heartless as you can get, right?" Her hand trembled and her voice broke a little as if she regretted it. "Right. I mean, I don't love him. I'd only be pretending." Robin bit her lip. "Ted... I called him a fake and a slut... I said I could blow him away and nothing would remain. I guess he was trying to see if there was something left." She glanced at Barney in the booth, nursing his beer. "Poor guy, he's lost weight. I guess there is something left..."

Now that Ted thought about it... Barney probably did have the biggest heart of them all, he's just the best at hiding it. "Well... you didn't know he would react like this," Ted began, picking at the bar top. "But at least he has somebody there for him. Two somebodys who can help him carry on."

Barney teared up and buried his head in his arms. Without a word, Marshall helped him out of the booth and lead him out of the bar. Lily lingered to pay the bill and Ted watched as she glared at Robin.

"Right," Robin said, with an air of regret as if she wished she could take it back. "I just wish Lily was there for me."

[moonchildfic.livejournal.com]

Leverage, Re-aged!Eliot/Nate, First time back on a job.

First time back on the job, Leverage, re-aged!Eliot/Nate

[entropynchaos.livejournal.com]

"You sure you're alright with this? I mean, it's not too soon, is it? We could delay this part for a couple of days?"

Eliot cut Nate off just by pressing his lips against the other man's, deepened the kiss, slick slide of tongues.

"Nate," he said, voice deliberately low, and he grinned when Nate couldn't help but moan a little when Eliot moved his mouth lower, nipping at the older man's neck. "Stop motherin' me."

He pulled away, smirked at the petulant look on his lover's face - and, really, which of them was it who'd recently been a little kid? - and Eliot slipped out of the van, loosening up his shoulders as he walked off to do his job.

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

HIMYM, Barney/Marshall/Lily, when they first discovered his submissive tendencies

[lilithisbitter.livejournal.com]

They're just fooling around in Ted's bedroom, laughing, joking over whether or not Mosby will ride the tricycle when Marshall presses a kiss to his wife's lips. Barney brushes his hand against her and when she looks up with a "Hi." he turns her face to the side and slides his tongue along it, licking, tasting.

Marshall pins his hands to his side. "That's my wife you're licking, Stinson."

Barney's body language suddenly changes. His narrow shoulders hunch and his eyes drop downward. "I'm sorry Master," spills out of his mouth.

Marshall looks so shocked that he presses his mouth against Barney's, using one hand to tilt the shorter man's head up, parting his lips with his tongue, as if trying to snap Barney out of it. Barney's eyes flutter shut and he lets Marshall probe his mouth for a few minutes.

"Holy hell, Marshmallow," Lily whispers, "Barney's a submissive."

It made sense. If hippie Barney was the real Barney simply playing dress up and pretending to be awesome Barney, then his submissive traits would still be there. It was like building a mansion on a crappy foundation and expecting the mansion to stay up. Marshall breaks the kiss and presses Lily back in Barney's arms. "Kiss your mistress, bitch... worship her." Barney's mouth presses against hers, hungrily, lapping, licking, talented. "Tonight we're going to win the belt, our way. She'll ride your Barnacle Jr. and you'll ride the Beast."

"Manaconda," Barney corrected briefly and then added, "Master."

They needed to talk about this more in the morning. But for now... sex. Good fucking sex. And just good fucking. And that's revenge for all the hair wax Mosby is going to leave on their sheets.

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

HIMYM, Barney/OC, what it feels like to be used

Peter Pan Wanted to be a Father

[lilithisbitter.livejournal.com]

"I feel used," Barney says, when Marshall shows up to take him back to Lily and his place. For once, Barney is not in a suit, just some jeans and a buttoned down egyptian cotton shirt, jogging shoes coming unlaced. He's fingering the empty glass as if he expects another Red Bull and Whiskey to materialize out of thin air. "She didn't even ask me what I want."

"Who?" Marshall asks, a bit nervous, "Not Robin... I don't want to beat Robin up even if I know she can defend herself."

"It wasn't Robin... it was just some girl I've been dating. Pretty little blond that for one thing turned out to be thirty-nine, the traitor caused me to break Bro Code. But..."

"That's not the real reason... is it?" Marshall helps Barney up and lets him lean against him for balance as he walks outside to hail a cab.

"I knocked her up," Barney says, staring at his shoes.

"So that means you're going to be a father. I know that's big, but you're great with your nephew Sam and Lily's kindergardeners... you love kids, you love playing along side them in lazer tag. The problem is most of the time, you seem to forget you're a grown man, but you can... Barney?"

Barney's shoulders are shaking. "No... no I'm not. She called me today, she had an abortion. She just used me for sex... didn't even ask me if I wanted to keep my son or daughter to raise. Half that DNA was mine... I think I should have a bit of a say." He breaks out into sobs. "I want to be a father, Marshall. I want to be a father. Someone to call me dad or maybe pop pop like Sam calls James and Tom"

Marshall doesn't know what to say, so he keeps stroking Barney's hair until the cab arrives. Maybe Lily would know the right words to say.

[bloodyfire.livejournal.com]

Watchmen, Nite Owl II/Rorschach, First Meeting

Summer Heat

[deutschtard.livejournal.com]

The summer heat was always oppressive, but some nights were nearly unbearable. If it wasn't for the fact that he knew he had no choice, Rorschach would have let the heat get to him. After all, he was wearing such thick layers, and the mask barely allowed his face to breathe, but the heat didn't stop the criminals and scum from coming out and reminding him why he had no choice.

Rorschach's Journal, June 17th, 1964

I have not found much to do lately. It seems that the heat has been keeping everyone indoors, keeping them away from the lure of the streets. The streets are almost empty in comparison to the spring. Even the dope peddlers seem to keep to under eves, places they know air conditioning is near. I'll find them anyway.

The heat is beginning to weigh down on everyone's backs lately. Even normally mild-mannered business folk seem to be more on edge. Perhaps keeping up appearances is finally beginning to stifle them, the ties around their necks feeling more like a noose in this weather.

Mr. Kennedy forced me to handle more women's garments today than normal, apparently larger orders coming in, more alterations are necessary to reduce the coverage area of summer clothing. I nearly lost self-control hemming an already short skirt. More women are losing sense of couth, bearing thighs for men to leer at in the name of fashion. Disgusting.

Tomorrow supposed to be advantageous in search for head of small local crime ring, I can only hope the heat in their plush homes, built on the backs of the honest people in the city, will force them out, make them easy targets. If the man who tipped me lied, I shall make sure he realizes how much a crime dishonesty is.

The streetlights beat down like mini-suns as he patrolled the area, hoping to follow up on a lead he'd gotten a day or so earlier. Just then, he heard a commotion coming from down the alleyway, heard a woman's voice and immediately began running down there. No telling what was going on, what the multiple men's voices he could make out were doing to her. Hands balled into fists, he stopped short, confusion contorting his hidden features, ink blots swirling in a smaller concentrated area, drawn to the heat in his face.

A woman had definitely screamed, and it was definitely due to the three men currently laying comatose on the ground. What he hadn't anticipated, however, was to come across another mask. The man standing there with his cape looked...well, a bit tired, considering the circumstances. He was being thanked by the woman and offering to walk her home, which she accepted. Neither of them saw him, and he faded into the shadow, climbing a fire escape and getting out of the way before they crossed where he'd just been standing.

Now on the roof, he had to figure out what to do. He thought that he had been the only one since the Minutemen stopped patrolling. "How foolish." He cursed at himself. "Of course I'm not the only one, others see the fate this city is condemned to, they want to fix it, want to change things." So there was another one, and now Rorschach had to figure out what to do. Did he approach the man? No, especially not out of uniform, that would be suicide. He couldn't let this person know who he was. What he could do, however, was find out who this caped crusader was when the goggles were hung up and the sun was out.

He had heard about the return of Nite Owl in the papers and on a few news reports as he'd passed by, but was this him? He vowed then and there, that he would find him, follow him, and find out.

[bloodyfire.livejournal.com]

Dark Angel, Alec/Logan, "when was the first time you noticed me?"

when was the first time you noticed me?

[demonlord-dean.livejournal.com]

Okay, I'm trying here. Hope it turned out okay^^Well, got a little bit more drama then I first intented to.)

"Come on Logan. when was the first time you really noticed me, he?" Alec shouts at the older man. Anger and hurt showing on his face.
"I mean for something else the beeing Maxies placeholder. Admit it, I'll just be good enough for you until you can touch her again. Can fuck her again."
He tries to look Logan in the eye but it doesn't work. He can't stand this blue eyes at the moment.
"Know what? I'm sick and tired of this! I may be something made for humanity to use as they please but I deserve better than this!"
Alec turns around and stomps away. His grace lost. Big tears are running down his face. His full lips are quiverring.
"Alec." It's almost not audible but with his improved hearing he catches it.
"What?" he grits out without turning around.
"I'm sorry."
He hears -feels- the other man coming closer.
"I'm sorry for what I did to you. For making you believe you where a dirty little secret."
A warm hand settles firmly on Alec's shivering shoulder.
"I made my coice weeks ago. I don't want Max. Even if she could loose the virus, I wouldn't want her anymore."
Logan comes closer and puts his arms around ALec's chest.
"I want you, Alec."

[bloodyfire.livejournal.com]

NCIS, Tony/Gibbs, first time killing

[pipisafoat]

He'd always had these dreams. For as long as he could remember, he would dream about things that hadn't happened yet but would. When he woke up, he always knew if it had been a dream or a... vision, he called them, for lack of a better word.

The first time he dreamed about being a cop, he wasn't sure which kind the dream had been, but he made his decision the next day. He spent his years up until the day he got his badge dreaming and having visions about all the bad guys he would put away.

The night he got his badge, though, was the night he had the vision about his first kill. He woke up in the middle of the night, shaking, sweating, ran to the bathroom to throw up. The next several days were spent trying to make the vision get out of his head. All he could see was the perp, sprawled out dead at his feet, double-tap in the heart. (He wasn't quite sure if the double-tap thing was vision or dream - so he went to the range as often as he could to make sure it was part of the vision.)

Even seeing all this beforehand, though, couldn't prepare him for the actual day. He hadn't seen it coming. It was a normal day, normal routine, normal hassling and normal being hassled. When they happened to be first on the scene of a rape and murder, well, that wasn't exactly normal, but Tony still didn't recognize this as The Day, as he'd begun to think of it.

He'd realized as soon as one of the witnesses screamed "He's right there, in the crowd!" He spun around and saw the face that had been haunting him for years. Almost in slow motion, he unholstered his gun, pulled out his cuffs, and shouted for the man to freeze. Of course, he didn't, and Tony gave chase.

He knew he would shoot this man, but he didn't know why, and he wasn't prepared for the rapist to pull out his own gun and begin to fire on him. Shit, shit, triple flying horse fucking shit. He took a bullet to the arm before the perp ran out and tossed the gun.

"Just drop the gun and let me cuff you," he called from his position behind a dumpster. In response, the offending gun was dropped and kicked towards him. Tony came out gun first and was immediately fired at again. Two guns on a guy who raped a woman and then strangled her? Something's not adding up here.

He returned fire almost without noticing. The first shot went wild when the man jumped off the trash cans he had been standing on, but the next two hit home. Double-tap-heart-fall-dead-blood. Tony immediately kicked the gun away from the body, checked for a pulse, and threw up, barely missing the man's face.

His partner took him home, took his gun, and slept on his couch to be sure he was okay. Tony woke up in a cold sweat twice before having another vision.

It was obvious he'd just recently shot someone, because he was sitting in a car covered in blood that wasn't his. The door opened and a man stuck his head in.

"He get you, DiNozzo?"

The Tony in the vision shook his head. "Almost, Boss, but I'm good."

"Good." Blue eyes lit up and the barest hint of a smile touched his face. "Well, you're coming home with me tonight, anyway. Make sure you're really good, make you better than good if you're lucky."

Tony smiled. "Thanks."

After a quick glance around, the silver-haired man leaned down and pecked Tony quickly on the cheek. "Kate's still pissed about the dog comment."

Several years later, when Tony met NCIS Special Agent Gibbs, he signed up immediately, and the strange look he got for asking if the older man worked with anyone named Kate was replaced a couple years later by a very strange look when they hired Kate Todd.

[bloodyfire.livejournal.com]

Repo!TGO, Nathan & Shiloh, first steps

[onceuponapillow.livejournal.com]

Buffy, Buffy/Spike, You actually told them

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

A/N: This is Spike/Buffy at first, but couldn't help but bring Tara into it... that statement just begged for it to me :P hehe


"You actually told them?"

Buffy's voice trembled with outraged fury as they stood together in her kitchen, a few minutes after the guest of the doomed birthday party had made their way out of the house and into freedom.

"Not exactly -- well, yes, exactly, but only Glinda -- and only 'cause she asked! She's psychic, isn't she? Can't exactly lie to her..."

"Stupid excuse, Spike. She can't read your thoughts. She wouldn't have known anything if you hadn't felt the need to open your stupid... mouth..."

As she spoke Buffy was edging nearer to Spike, and he found himself unintentionally backing up against the wall beside the door, a convulsive swallow visible in his throat as he held up his hands in front of him in a placating gesture.

"Now, Buffy... easy now, Slayer... no need for things to get..."

A brutal fist across his face knocked his head into the wall. Spike raised a hand to touch his bleeding lip, grimacing at his stained fingers as he pulled them away before looking up at her resentfully to conclude.

"... violent."

"Oh, yes there is!" Buffy seethed, gripping his throat and shoving him back against the wall again. "I told you not to tell them. I told you I'd kill you if you told them!"

Spike's eyes widened with alarm when he saw the stake she'd pulled out of her pocket.

"Slayer... wait..."

He winced as the weapon was pressed against his chest, hard enough to draw blood through his black t-shirt. He froze, not daring to move lest he should give her temper the added shove it needed to provoke her to actually stake him. Buffy's voice was low and menacing as she leaned in close to speak next to his ear.

"You're going to find her, and you're going to tell her that you lied." A cruel smirk twisted her lips as she added with a careless shrug, "She'll buy that you made it up. Your pathetic obsession with me should be evidence enough to explain that away..."

"And what's going to explain away this?"

Both Slayer and vampire turned around, startled by the soft but furious voice coming from the kitchen doorway.

Tara.

Spike cringed, thinking that this could only make things worse for him. This was the first time anyone had ever seen the way Buffy had been treating him lately, and he was certain that her reaction could not be good.

Buffy stood there, wide-eyed, mouth agape, unable to formulate a response.

"I forgot my coat," Tara explained, her voice quiet and steely. "But I heard you two in here, and... and I can't believe what I heard."

"Tara... it's not what you think..."

"Really? Because I think you two have been sleeping together, and you're too much of a bitch to let him admit it to anyone without knocking the crap out of him."

As she spoke, Tara slowly advanced into the kitchen, arms crossed accusingly over her chest.

"Does that make you feel better, Buffy? More in control? For the moment, maybe -- until it's over and you remember what a wreck your life has turned into because of just this kind of behavior..."

Buffy flinched, shaking her head in wounded disbelief.

"Tara... no..."

"Well, you're not going to ruin his life, too." Tara paused, her soft grey-blue eyes locking onto Buffy's gaze without flinching, a quiet warning in her cold stare. "Let go of him -- or I'll remind you that Willow's not the only one with a few tricks up her sleeve."

More stunned than frightened by the threat, Buffy nevertheless released Spike, taking a step backward. He glanced uncertainly between her and Tara before opening the kitchen door.

"Guess I'd best be going..."

Her gaze never leaving Buffy's face, Tara nodded. "Wait. I'll come with you," she offered. "Just let me get my coat."

[onceuponapillow.livejournal.com]

Buffy, Spike/Dawn, How could you embarrass me like that

[vampedvixen.livejournal.com]

Dawn barged in the front door and threw her schoolbag on the hallway floor. She'd just had the worst day of school in her life, all because of the stupid parent-teacher conferences. She wanted to hit things or cry-- or possibly do both at the same time.

She glowered at Spike as he walked into the living room. All of her patience was gone when she started screaming at him, "How could you embarrass me like that?! Why did you have to show up at my school instead of Willow--"

"Witch was busy with the bot." He held up his hands, "But, Dawnie, I tried to be--"

"Oh, don't even tell me that you tried. You showed up there in broad daylight, wrapped up in a smoking blanket, smelling of old cigarettes and continued to freak half my classmates-- not to mention my teacher-- out with the answers you gave to her questions. You're lucky they didn't decide to call CPS on your ass."

"Was trying to be honest," He thought, "Didn't come off that well. Probably shouldn't have told her about your extracurricular magick studies.."

"I just--" She cut him off, begining to lose it, "I just wish Buffy was here so she could take care of me, instead of having some vampire acting like he's my parent. I just-- I want my sister back."

She clutched a hand around her middle, folding into a mess of sobbing tears.

"I know, luv." He didn't know what to tell her to make it better, so he held her instead. There were no words that would comfort her or bring Buffy back. The gang was a sorry substitute for what they now both lacked in their lives. "I'm sorry."

[onceuponapillow.livejournal.com]

Veronica Mars, Veronica/Logan, You've never said that before

[onceuponapillow.livejournal.com]

The shrill ring of his phone jerked Logan from his sleep. As he reached for the phone he shot a glance at his alarm clock on his bedside table and groaned. It was 2:37am

"No one I know would call this early," he snapped, rubbing his eye with the palm of his hand.

Silence greeted him.

"Hello," Logan said, pulling himself into a seated position.

Silence was once again the only response.

"Just great," Logan snorted. "Does your mommy know you're using her phone?"

When once again he received no response Logan decided he was done. "I'm hanging up. How about you put the phone away and go play in traffic or something."

"Are you happy?" A familiar voice, a voice he hadn't heard in years suddenly asked.

"Veronica?"

"Are you happy?" she repeated.

"Yes."

"Good, I'm glad. You deserve to be happy."

"Are you happy?" Logan returned.

"Duncan asked me to marry him."

Logan ignored the familiar twinge of pain her words inspired. "That's not what I asked you."

"I don't think I've been happy in a long time."

"What did you say?"

"I don't think I've been-"

"No," Logan interrupted. "To him."

"I haven't answered him yet. What do you think I should do?"

"Don't ask me that Veronica," Logan sighed.

"Don't you know me better than anyone?"

"I do, that's how I know you gotta make the choice on your own."

"I just want to be happy."

"Then you know what you have to do."

"I'm scared," she admitted.

"I think that's normal."

"Do you ever wonder what it would have been like if we'd..."

"Yes," Logan told her quietly.

"And."

"And I don't like to spend time regretting the past Veronica. It happened. We can't change it."

"Oh."

"Veronica, I'm here, I'm happy. I wouldn't change it."

"We're not seventeen anymore."

"No."

"I miss you."

"Veronica-" Logan began, unsure of what to say. It was the first time she’d ever acknowledge actually wanting him in her life in any way.

"Don't. You don't have to say anything. I just...I just wanted you to know." After a moments pause she continued. "Goodbye Logan."

"Goodbye Veronica."

Logan hung up the phone, considering what had just occurred. It had been a long time since he'd allowed himself to think about her and what she was doing with her life. Not entirely sure if he was making the right choice, Logan picked up his phone and dialed her number.

"No one I know would call this early."

A smile spread across his face. "I miss you too."