comment_fic | Thursday: On Vacation

Thursday: On Vacation

My last day... *pout* I shall have to come up with some crazy themes and do this again!

Today's theme is On Vacation.

After yesterday's insanity, our characters really need a break. What do they do to get away from their normal lives?

Please think about our wonderful codemonkeys and use the correct format (the second is for crossovers).

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

Firefly, River, Building sand-castles on the beach
Torchwood/Heroes, Jack/Ianto/Gabriel, A broken stopwatch spoils half their vacation plans

Please remember not to post more than 5 prompts in a row and more than 3 prompts per fandom. If one or more of your prompts are answered, you can prompt again later in the day.

If you don't see anything you like, you can always Adopt a Lonely Prompt.

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*grins* He's awesome when he's flustered

Captain Picard's log entry was uncharacteristically short this time.

Captain's Log, Stardate 57825.8.

The Enterprise is on it's way to Vulcan for a diplomatic conference. All is well, we will reach our destination within 20 hours.

Meanwhile, he decided to go to the holodeck to relax.

"Computer, activate program F-27-Delta," the captain ordered and looked down to see himself clad in loose, flower-patterned pair of pants and not much else.

He relished the feel of the warm, soft sand beneath his feet, the lovely breeze tickling his skin and the utter peace and quiet that dominated this deserted beach.

He saw a hammock suspended between two trees, and he headed that way.

Naturally, he managed to actually relax for exactly 20 seconds.

"Mon Capitan! What a tremendous pleasure it is to see you again!"

"What do you want, Q?"

"Nothing more than to spend a few of your pathetically short hours in this computer-generated figment of your imagination with you."

"Has the continuum sent you to exile again?"

"Good Lord, no! Why would they do that? No, Jean-Luc, I merely wanted to see you."

"Picard to the bridge."

"Don't worry, they can't hear you. Well, they can hear Captain Picard telling them he wants regular updates, but they can't specifically hear *you*."

"I'll ask this one more time, Q, what are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to see you, is that such a horrible prospect for you?"

"Yes."

"Well, that's too bad, because I intend to spend some time with you."

Q snapped his fingers and a hammock, identical to Picard's, trees included, appeared out of thin air right next to the one Picard was lying in.

"Something's missing," Q commented. He pondered for ten seconds and then snapped his fingers again. A waitress came by with a tray loaded with drinks and freshly cut fruits.

Picard rolled his eyes and continued reading his book.

Many hours later, Picard opened his eyes, leaning his head into the warm palm that tickled the back of his neck and his ear, forgetting for a brief moment to whom it might belong. Then he realized and, mortified that he was just caressed by Q, he sat up.

"We've arrived at our destination, Mon Capitan, it's time for you to wake up and assume your captainly duties," murmured Q.

Picard rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands and when he opened them again, the second set of hammock and trees, as well as Q, have disappeared from the holodeck.

Fantastic. I love it.

*snickers* Flustered and awkward Ten is adorable.

“Things are going to get better from on here. We’re going to see Paris. We’ll see the Eiffel Tower, and the Louvre.”

“We’ll go all over the world,” Soubi said, in the familiar conversation. It’d taken a scripted quality, Kio had said it so many times. Before, he’d had to prompt Soubi for his lines, but now Soubi would robotically repeat them without even the slightest question of don’t you want to leave this place behind? You’ll never have to think of another Aoyagi again.

He cut the white powder. No wonder they called it snow, he thought, as it clung to his fingers. A dreamy haze was on soon. Most artists did this, or some other drug. Soubi did it to escape.

“We’ll definitely see the Louvre. It’ll be beautiful and unlike anything we’ve ever seen,” Kio said.

Soubi took a hit and then they were both floating to a place elsewhere. They both knew that this was the closest they’d ever come to Paris.

It was not 'Talk Like a Pirate' Day. Dick had not seen or read anything that had pirates in it, so Tim wasn't entirely why he was climbing around like a monkey on meth.

But if he kept talking about Tim's 'booty' like that things were going to get ugly. Very ugly and that would be a shame.

He walked sedately to the control room and... fiddled. The boat sped up, rocked and did it's damnedest to pretend it was in a storm. After a few minutes he returned the controls to their proper settings.

Bruce merely gave him a look but Dick scrambled in wide eyed and mildly horrified.

"What were you doing?!" He merely smiled and kissed Dick on the cheek before going back up.

Hee!! XD Thank you so much for filling my prompt. I just love Tim's nonchalant counter to Dick's craziness. :p

You're always welcome! :D I'm glad you like it! :D

Murphy wraps his grinning lips around the stem of the bong and inhales. He leans back in his seat, savoring, and as if attached by an invisible string, Connor leans forward to watch his brother's eyes go cloudy and dark.

Laughing as he exhales, Murphy offers him the bong, but Connor waves it away. He can't tell if Murphy's fucked up on the good pot, or if he's just getting a kick out of getting high in public -a fucking hash bar. Murph's always amused by doing forbidden things in the open. Shoot outs in the suburbs, pot in cafes.

Connor takes a sip of his beer and looks around. The place is full of stoned kids and the cashiers behind the counter all look not unfamiliar with their own wares.

They're in Amsterdam tucked away in a tourist trap amid a bunch of nameless Americans. Connor breathes easier and takes another sip. The brew isn't bad, but Murphy's stupid grin is making the weed seem more and more appealing.

Just as Murphy's ready to exhale again, Connor hooks a hand around his neck, pulling his brother into an almost kiss. They let the sweet smoke curling between their lips, sticky and hot.

Murphy isn't the only one that gets off on doing the socially unacceptable in public.

Sweet, I'm glad you like it :D. This was my first time writing the Boondock Boys, they're so much fun.

When John had said they'd make a life for themselves in some out of the way place after they'd dumped the Xmen and Magneto he'd been expecting a rat hole, not a hut in a Hawain Paradise.

John had laughed at him when he told him that. Apparently being a bad-guy paid quite a lot.

He woke disoriented. He sat up and saw he was in his own bed in the TARDIS. In his own pyjamas, even.

But ... he had been in the control room....

"Ah, you're awake."

He looked up, his eyes huge to see Donna standing in his doorway. She'd changed her clothes, and now wore jeans and a long-sleeved blue t-shirt with a deep blue V of fabric.

He flashed back to memories of a bedimpled blond man with a bass guitar he used to know, and swallowed heavily. "what are you doing?"

"Get dressed, Spaceman," she said. "We've a long day ahead." And she left the room.

He got dressed -- foregoing the tie and leaving his shirt open to show the grey t-shirt -- and entered the control room. "where are we?"

"You'll see." She opened the door out onto --

"Oh, Rassilon," he breathed, stepping out. "Carnaby Street?"

"Yup, 1967. You needed somewhere to heal and I needed a little bit of fun. This way we both get what we need." She ran a hand over his shoulders and pulled off his coat, throwing it back into the TARDIS. "Come on, Mister Mod -- let's go mingle."

He smiled down at her and hugged her tightly.

"Oh, one more thing," she said as it ended.

"What's that?"

She pointed at a soda shoppe at the end of the street. "My dad said that shoppe made the best banana splits...."

It was completely worth it to watch the huge grin spread across his freckled face.

Lovely, simply lovely. Thanks for writing this.

Thank you so very much!

This is set in the movieverse, I hope it's okay.
- - - - - -

'Cool my drink down wouldya?' Remy said to Bobby when he sauntered into the mansion's kitchen. It was late or rather very early in the morning but Bobby sat over his usual carton of icecream.
'There's a fridge right behind you.' Bobby snapped. There were deep rings under his eyes and he hadn't joined a single training or mission with the other X-Men since Alcatraz. Officially Bobby was on vacation from both the X-Men and from university.
Remy on the other hand had come to the mansion after Alcatraz and had hovered close to Logan ever since.
Now he rolled his eyes and muttered something in French.
'Fuck you.' Bobby muttered back.
'Mon Dieu, Logan is easier to handle than you.' Bobby shot him a dark glare.
'So you have killed someone. It was self defense. Your teammates need you.'
'John wasn't just anyone.' Bobby told him icily.
'Non but you two were long over and each of you have made your choices.' He laid a hand on Bobby's shoulder, the tips of his long fingers playing with the short strands of Bobby's hair.
'There are more important things, qui?'
'You didn't know John.' Bobby whispered and tilted his head up.
'No, but I know you.' Remy leaned down to kiss him softly.

There’s a no-man’s land between Camelot and Avalon, where magic breathes beneath the forest floor, between the ruins of broken kingdoms and the bones of dead knights. A place that Uther likens to the worst of the world instead of the best, and they’re sent out in hopes of civilising the barren land, the wilderness, and Merlin breathes the air like it breathes him, warms his throat and chest as knights’ set up camp, hunt and Arthur wanders, wonders.

“It’s different,” Arthur says, head tilted and eyes curious. “I don’t know what I was expecting.”

Merlin shrugs offhand, but it is, the Earth strange and unfamiliar beneath his feet, and when Arthur looks at him again, his eyes are drunk, his posture loose and unkempt and Merlin has to resist the urge to touch him, to pull his hair or palm his skin.

There’s something here, there, that Merlin can’t think, can’t feel in any way that’s tangible, but it spreads throughout his limbs like new blood, like rebirth and birth and it must be magic, because Merlin feels younger and older than he ever has and Arthur is miles of unwandered skin. He thinks of crossing it all, of tracing spine and the bones of his back and his chest. He thinks of exploration instead of pillaging, of gain instead of treason.

“You’re not a prince out here,” Merlin says, voice and hands somehow apart from himself when he starts pulling off Arthur’s armour for the evening. Arthur, forehead furrowed and voice languid, says, “I’m a prince everywhere.”

Arthur kisses with an air of entitlement, all teeth and lips, like Merlin’s the lucky one and later, with Arthur dosing, bare back facing towards the heavens, hair flayed across the forest floor and breath soft against Merlin’s shoulder, he thinks that maybe he is.

John hears the phrase two weeks off and thinks of snow, of skis and boards and mugs of hot chocolate and clothing so insulated it feels like you're in the tropics. Cam hears the same words and thinks of a beach, somewhere with umbrellas and water and pineapples, where the most they'd have to worry about would be suntan lotion and towels.

They talk about it and talk about it, and it doesn't cause a fight, but they both realise that they're going to have to come to some sort of compromise. A week here, a week there, maybe, or somewhere else entirely.

"We could just stay here," Cam suggests that night, when John's flopped across the bed with a lazy smile on his face, naked as the day he was born. Cam's tracing idle patterns into his hip, and John's eyes open.

"Stay here for two weeks," he muses. "We wouldn't even have to leave the apartment."

"We'll just tell them we packed up and went to North Carolina." Cam continues. "But we'll hang around here in our pajamas."

"We sleep naked," John counters, and Cam grins.

"Exactly."

Tony glanced at the clock again and bit back an aggravated sigh. Jethro already had the approval of his time off in his hand -- signed by the director. His own -- seemed to be missing in action.

And now Gibbs had been called to the directors office. It was late in the afternoon and didn't bode well for them getting the ten days off they had both asked for.

Tony looked up as Gibbs pounded down the stairs. "DiNozzo! Vance wants to see you," he growled.

Tony gulped. That didn't sound good -- not when the only thing he wanted to do was get on the road. Risking a glance at McGee, he saw the younger man openly gaping, snapping his mouth shut only when he noticed Tony glaring at him.

"Getting called to the carpet, Tony?" Ziva asked with a smirk on her face.

"It's on the carpet, Ziva, and no -- I don't think I'm getting called on the carpet." He rolled his eyes and took the stairs two at a time.

Tony took the time to take a deep breath and straighten his tie before knocking on Vance's door. The gruff "come in!" didn't do anything to quell his case of nerves.

"You wanted to see me, Sir?" Tony asked politely as he stood trying not to fidget in front of Vance's desk.

"You've asked for some time off, DiNozzo."

Tony bit back a sigh. Vance wasn't going to give him the same week as Gibbs. Damn. "Yes, Sir."

"Have any plans?"

Tony blinked. "Sir?" He hoped Vance wasn't looking for a 'no' because he sure as hell did have plans.

Vance sighed and leaned forward. "So, DiNozzo, why do you want the same time off as Special Agent Gibbs?"

Tony bit back a grin, imagining the look on the director's face if he told him the truth. Instead, he shrugged. "It's boring as hell around here with no team lead -- sir. I thought I could take the same time and avoid pouring through cold case files. I hope it's not an issue --"

Tony deliberately trailed off, intimating without saying that he damn well did have plans -- plans that wouldn't be easy to cancel.

Vance started at him for a long moment before sighing dramatically. He picked a pen up from off his desk and signed his name with a flourish before handing Tony's approved vacation request to him.

"Thank you, sir," Tony said with a smile, leaving the office when Vance waved him off. He pulled the door shut quietly and then pumped his fist in the air.

He and Jethro were going sailing -- in the Bahamas -- for a week. Clothing optional on board.

Oh my god ;_; this is perfect!

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Page 12 of 12

Thursday: On Vacation

Re: Doctor Who, Ten/Rose, sunscreen

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Re: Doctor Who, Ten/Rose, sunscreen

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Yarr, Dick/Tim, PG

Re: Yarr, Dick/Tim, PG

Re: Yarr, Dick/Tim, PG

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Hawain Paradise[Xmen, Pyro/Iceman]

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just like

Compromise: John/Cam, sunshine or snow?

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Re: Supernatural, Sam & wee!Dean, the beach