Bite Sized Bits of Fic

Leverage/Haven, Eliot/Duke, he doesn't trust him but he sure likes him

Edited Date: 2013-03-02 06:54 am (UTC)

From:

Elementary, Gregson/Sherlock, spankings and comfort

From:

Arrow, any combination of Oliver/Felicity/Diggle, they just argued but the sex isn't angry

Edited Date: 2013-03-02 06:53 am (UTC)

From:

samueljames

Tracking this, they'd make such a pretty trio.

Re: No fill but

From:

daria234.livejournal.com - Date: 2013-03-02 11:15 pm (UTC) - Expand

From:

Avengers, any pairing among Clint/Steve/Natasha/Coulson, "I just don't think a surprise party is a good idea"

From:

Doctor Cat (http://doctorcatmd.com/)/Doctor Who, Any, Rory Williams is actually Human Nurse

From:

Psych, Chief Karen Vick & Lassiter or Juliet, Vick and one of her officers are secretly vigilantes after hours, and they don't follow the rules

From:

Doctor Cat (http://doctorcatmd.com/)/Doctor Who, Any, A cat in a doctor's coat wanders into the TARDIS. Everyone is immediately taken over by the cat's cuteness. But they are shocked when the cat starts to talk, claiming he's a doctor, and that he need to operate on a certain Time Lord claiming that "It's terminal!".

From:

Star Wars, Obi-Wan/Siri, across the universe

From:

The Bible, Jesus/Mary Magdalene, tell her i'll be by her side all she has to do is call

From:

leni-ba.livejournal.com

He rises from his pallet late at night, making his way around the twelve snoring bundles that pepper the borrowed room. Peter half-awakes, always the protector, but the last trek under the burning sun has tired him enough to send him back to sleep.

He slips out of the house when only the stars and the night birds are awake to give him company. The sky doesn't shine brighter as he walks, the clouds don't part to give him a better vision of the road to the hill, the night doesn't grow quiet, in wait of his word.

He is but a man.

That is the meaning of his life, just to be.

There will be meaning to his death, too, but that is not for weeks to come.

He wonders whether he should be counting the days as he is, watching them pass with a deep-seated hunger that can compare only to his childhood greediness when Mother made them a sweet treat.

...it has a purpose, it always did.

He has to remind himself of that.

When there is silence, holding onto that truth is not hard. He knows his mission; he has worked for it for years, fitting words with actions, building stories that will pass from mouth to mouth and memory to memory until their teachings are better remembered than the Teacher himself.

Not even Death is allowed to stop that.

Death will not - can not - stop him.

But Love... ah, Love just might.

"Master?"

Her steps are a whisper on the sandy trail, the ends of her robe brushing against patches of grass and tiny pebbles. When he thinks of five virgins awaiting the bridegroom, he always pictures her holding the first lamp. He doesn't care about the many men who have lain with her, or the rumors that surround her even when she lowers her eyes and glues herself to the other women. He can imagine her as a little girl, curious of the world, always wanting more, always reaching for better.

There are many reasons for women to give their bodies. Mary Magdalene doesn't need to tell him hers; he is content with her promise to follow him, the memory of the look in her eyes when she believed that he would welcome her in his travels.

"Yes, Mary. It's me."

She stops a few paces away, when she discovers he's been kneeling on the ground. "Oh." The hand that is holding her blanket fists around it. "I apologize. I didn't- I am sorry. I should have realized you'd come for prayer."

Yes, prayer. He asked for comfort. That she is here is an answer he appreciates.

"I'd just finished." It's not a lie if he doesn't want it to be. "Do you need some time alone, too?"

Her cheeks blush. A woman alone at this late hour, in a town where some can afford her services. He knows what most would think.

"I-" She meets his gaze, and her body relaxes at whatever she reads there. He hopes it was his trust and nothing more. "It's such a peaceful spot."

He'd thought the same when they passed it earlier, on their last stretch to the town. "It is beautiful, too. Even at night." He is the first to break his eyes away. Not shame, but it could be, and that's enough. He rises to his feet and motions to the spot he just left. "You must look to the east. The moonlight has shaded the mountains in blues and purples."

She recoils. "Like bruises, Master?"

"Perhaps." But there's beauty in it. There's hope.

...it has a purpose, too.

There's a moment of silence, but he doesn't share his insight. Mary would understand; sometimes she understands him better than those he hand-picked from the sea and commerce booths. But then, she listens without expecting to become him.

There are advantages to being a woman following the teachings of a man. She does not mean to become a teacher herself, and so she is content with learning as best she can.

"Enjoy your time, Mary," he says, and starts his way back.

"You don't need to leave," she says, her voice quiet, when he walks past her.

It’s an invitation, but he shouldn’t want to accept it. “Ah, but I do.”

She smells like the desert and an old hint of perfume. Her skin knows the weight of dirty gold coins and the heat of their group meals. He knows every part of her, accepts what she was and rejoices for what she already is. She knows him, too; she knows him better than most. If she called, her voice would call to him the loudest.

Silent Night (2/2)

From:

leni-ba.livejournal.com - Date: 2013-03-04 09:56 pm (UTC) - Expand

Re: Silent Night (2/2)

From:

odette-river.livejournal.com - Date: 2013-03-05 02:46 am (UTC) - Expand

Re: Silent Night (2/2)

From:

leni-ba.livejournal.com - Date: 2013-03-05 03:39 am (UTC) - Expand

From:

Game of Thrones, Sansa+/Cersei, red wine

From:

wildlinggirl.livejournal.com

Sansa never spoke her mind, of course, but she did see it. Ever since the battle of the Blackwater, the Queen Regent was drinking more red wine than ever. One of the very few traits she shared with her late husband, and which she hadn't known about until recently.

Then again, there was a lot about Cersei that she hadn't seen up until now. Her actions during the battle against Stannis was her prime example.

She could still remember Ilyn Payne there, across the room, ready to kill in the case the result of the battle wasn't favorable to the Lannisters. The queen had never been the same on her eyes ever since the execution of Ned Stark, but to think that she'd go that far... Sansa was genuinely scared of her, and not just because of the golden-haired monster she carried on her womb for nine months.

"Why don't you drink, little dove?" Cersei asked, signaling Senelle to pour more of that red wine from Dorne, courtesy of the Martells. "You'll feel all your problems melt away with just one taste of this exquisite wine."

Senelle, the queen's servant, filled her cup and retreated. Only Tommen was accompanying them tonight, as Joffrey was with Margaery for some reason the queen kept for herself, and he was way too busy playing with a kitten he found earlier to notice the way his mother stared at Sansa. That look, that piercing glare that made Sansa feel naked and defenseless, a look that made her silently raise her cup and drink the red wine. Almost the entire cup was done for with one drink.

However, when she put the cup down, Sansa realized that the queen had lied to her once again; her problems did not fade away at all. She was still Sansa Stark, daughter of a falsely accused traitor, held hostage of her family's enemies, in a city where she had no friends and countless enemies, at the mercy of her wicked king who may be now bethroded to another, but what prevented him from using her when he got bored of Margaery? The only one who would save her was Sandor, and he... he wouldn't save her anymore.

Cersei did not lie about one thing, though. The wine was exquisite.

From:

Doctor Cat (http://doctorcatmd.com/)/Phineas and Ferb, Any, There's a new agent at the OWCA. He's a cat... and a doctor. He doesn't exactly want to fight crime. All he wants to do is operate on everyone and play with his favorite mouse toy.

From:

Game of Thrones/Arthurian Legend, Sansa/Mordred, a thousand lies

From:

Batman (Nolanverse), Blake , his life fighting crime as Robin

From:

Arthurian Legend, Arthur/Morgan, a shadow from another time

From:

Any, Any, sleepy sex

From:

classics-lover.livejournal.com

This is hitting a few of my fandom kinks. I'll try for one this evening after work.

Also your icon is incredibly funny!

Re: no fic yet

From:

mahmfic.livejournal.com - Date: 2013-03-02 07:54 pm (UTC) - Expand

Re: no fic yet

From:

classics-lover.livejournal.com - Date: 2013-03-03 12:53 am (UTC) - Expand

Fill - NCIS, Gibbs/Tony - In the Middle of the Night

From:

rebak1tten.livejournal.com - Date: 2013-03-03 07:54 pm (UTC) - Expand

From:

foxstarreh.livejournal.com

BtVS, Buffy + Faith,
Two girls walk down the same street
One left a sweater sitting on the train
And the other lost three fingers at the cannery

From:

any, any,

But this is how it goes, baby
I'll get angry at your words and I'll go home
And you won't call after me, yeah
'Cause I'll be back before you know, you know
-"this is how it goes" by missy higgins

From:

X-Files, any, ghosts

From:

In Plain Sight, Mary (pairing or gen), There was a time when she lived alone.

From:

evil-little-dog.livejournal.com

Mary stalked through the doors, a thunderous scowl on her face. She slammed her files on the desk and threw herself into her chair so hard, it rolled all the way to the wall, smacking into it.

“Bad morning?” Marshall asked, glancing over the top of his computer monitor at her.

She rolled her eyes, showing teeth. “That’s the understatement of all understatements.”

Marshall twirled a pencil between his fingers. “Let me guess – Jinx was up at the crack of midnight with her bottle, Brandi was on the telephone with Chuck all night, and you had to deal with Jinx’s crying jags and Brandi’s pouting?”

Mary didn’t bother with an actual answer, letting out a grunt that could’ve been an agreement.

Marshall got to his feet, heading to the coffee pot. He poured a cup for Mary and set it on her desk, an offering to the tumultuous goddess of Albuquerque WITSEC. “Here you go,” he said.

She eyed the cup, then glared up at Marshall. “This isn’t some attempt to appease me, is it?”

Shrugging, Marshall went back to his chair, sitting down. “Is it possible it will work, and you won’t attack the next person who comes through that door like a ravening lioness, taking down her prey?”

Mary snorted picking up the cup and taking a sip. “Maybe. If you throw in donuts as soon as we leave the office.”

“Done.”

“Mary, Marshall,” Stan sang out as he came through the door. “My two favorite marshals.”

They exchanged a look. “What sort of horrible person do we have to babysit now, Stan?” Marshall asked.

“Who said you did?” Stan hesitated next to Marshall’s desk. “Mary?”

“Had a bad night. Jinx and Brandi doubleplay,” Marshall said.

Mary buried her face in her coffee cup.

“Ouch.” Stan folded his arms and leaned his hip on Marshall’s desk. “So, she’s in a bad mood?”

Marshall wagged his hand from side to side, curling his mouth in a grimace. “I gave her coffee and promised her donuts. She might make it out of the office doors without killing anyone. After that, I make no promises.”

“Good man. If she’s out on the streets, at least she’s harming innocent bystanders, not people we know personally.”

“I hear you talking, you know,” Mary said dryly.

Stan offered a saccharine smile. “Mary! How nice to see you today. I hear from Marshall your night was less than stellar.”

Mary sighed, setting down her cup. “You know, I used to live alone. Then I bought a house, and Jinx slipped in through the cracks, and now Brandi’s here hiding out or whatever she’s doing from Chuck, and all I really want is some peace and quiet. And then I come to work.” She eyed Stan and Marshall. “And the people I expect to respect me talk about me within earshot.”

“At least we’re not doing it behind your back,” Stan reminded her.

She snorted, pushing to her feet. “Marshall. Donuts. On the double.”

Marshall shrugged at Stan. “At your beck and call, milady.”

“I’m not a beck and call girl,” Mary growled.

“Not until Jinx and Brandi start calling.” Marshall grinned when Mary flashed a glower. “Remember, Mary, one is the loneliest – ow!” Rubbing his shoulder, he asked, “Why’d you hit me?”

“Because, goofball, it’s not cold enough around here for a one dog night, let alone three.” And Mary preceded him out of the office, like always. “Donuts, Marshall! Now!”

Re: Fill - "One is the Loneliest"

From:

crearealidad.livejournal.com - Date: 2013-03-08 01:38 pm (UTC) - Expand

Re: Fill - "One is the Loneliest"

From:

evil-little-dog.livejournal.com - Date: 2013-03-08 02:37 pm (UTC) - Expand

From: