Tuesday: Crossovers
Aug. 25th, 2009 02:32 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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comment_ficHey all! I'm stepping in briefly to cover today's theme, and today it's crossovers.
The theme's as straightforward as it sounds. Format wise, you can prompt for a crossover as per usual, or you can make one of the fandoms the prompt itself. (See below.) Fusions are also welcome!
The usual rules apply, of course.
No spoilers in the prompt itself for at least one week after publication/air date.
If there are spoilers in your story, you must warn in bold and leave at least 3 spaces.
No more than 5 prompts in a row. No more than 3 prompts per fandom. But because today's theme is a little more restrictive, I'm going to clarify that a little for today only, as crossovers usually qualify as a fandom for those purposes. No more than 3 prompts per each fandom in the crossover group.
(For example, if you have SG1/Firefly, SG1/X-Files, and SG1/Warehouse 13, you have used SG1 3 times, and cannot leave another prompt with SG1 until one of your prompts is answered.)
For the sanity of our diligent code monkeys, please remember to format your prompts correctly. Examples:
Leverage, Parker, Warehouse 13
Firefly/RPS, Wash/Pauley Perrette, all pilots are crazy
Nothing biting? Feel free to take a peek at our Lonely Prompts.
(Speaking of which, just to clarify - not all the completed prompts were in yesterday's post. I've got monkeys on vacation and various pinch hitters. I should have more for you after Wednesday! So sorry for the confusion!)
Ready? All right, let's go!
theme=Crossovers
The theme's as straightforward as it sounds. Format wise, you can prompt for a crossover as per usual, or you can make one of the fandoms the prompt itself. (See below.) Fusions are also welcome!
The usual rules apply, of course.
No spoilers in the prompt itself for at least one week after publication/air date.
If there are spoilers in your story, you must warn in bold and leave at least 3 spaces.
No more than 5 prompts in a row. No more than 3 prompts per fandom. But because today's theme is a little more restrictive, I'm going to clarify that a little for today only, as crossovers usually qualify as a fandom for those purposes. No more than 3 prompts per each fandom in the crossover group.
(For example, if you have SG1/Firefly, SG1/X-Files, and SG1/Warehouse 13, you have used SG1 3 times, and cannot leave another prompt with SG1 until one of your prompts is answered.)
For the sanity of our diligent code monkeys, please remember to format your prompts correctly. Examples:
Leverage, Parker, Warehouse 13
Firefly/RPS, Wash/Pauley Perrette, all pilots are crazy
Nothing biting? Feel free to take a peek at our Lonely Prompts.
(Speaking of which, just to clarify - not all the completed prompts were in yesterday's post. I've got monkeys on vacation and various pinch hitters. I should have more for you after Wednesday! So sorry for the confusion!)
Ready? All right, let's go!
theme=Crossovers
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no subject
Date: 2009-08-25 07:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-18 06:44 am (UTC)It had taken her awhile. Eliot refused to help saying things like ‘national security’ and ‘non-disclosure statements’. Nate said they were too busy helping people. Sophie was still eating a lot while trying to get over her break up and Hardison was spending all his free time on WoW. Parker finally had to resorted to kidnapping the Doctor and his TARDIS from Hardison’s office to get him to do some hacking. Even then there was very little to go on. Just some shipping manifests to a set of coordinates in South Dakota.
But she had done it. The old rusted building did not look like much from the outside. Mostly just big, and old, and rusted. The security had not been old, or rusted. Bombs by the front door, biometric locks and more cameras than Paris Hilton’s paparazzi. Parker had been forced to break into the Smithsonian just for the original blueprints. Buildings built in 1898 generally had larger openings for plumbing and airways and she found one still accessible. Well, accessible to Parker at least .
Which is how she found herself peeking in the largest underground room that she had ever seen. Rows and rows of boxes and more boxes as far as she could see. Unscrewing the grate she set it aside and lowered herself to the floor. She was here, now she just had to find something to steal. Nothing too big, or too small, she was looking for something just right.
Walking down the nearest isle she paused to looked at the image outside of a promising box when she felt a sudden weight in her hand. Parker froze. Then carefully she looked down to see that she was now holding a large, slightly battered brass tea kettle. She looked around but no one else was there. Parker giggled softly. This would be a great place to steal Christmas presents for the team. Eliot would love an antique kettle for his tea. She could not help but silently wish that ‘Daddy’ could see her now, that he could see how great a thief she had become.
A ferret popped its head out of top of the kettle. Parker’s eyes went wide. She quickly set down the strange piece of kitchen equipment. The ferret climbed out and started sniffing at her feet. It was a cute ferret so Parker cautiously picked it up. Stroking it gently Parker walked away from the kettle. She did not think that Eliot would appreciate a kitchen full of ferrets. She would have to find him something else. But he was not the only one on her list. Right now she had another team member in mind.
Parker smiled down at the ferret. “So know of any top hats with rabbits around here.” Nate would love it.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2009-08-25 07:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-29 02:49 pm (UTC)Zoe looked bemused. Wash was busy watching a group of pilots across the bar. Pauley pointed. "Take Tazor over there, the one with the mohawk? He once dropped into atmo with no shields and one engine."
"Yeah, I remember hearing about that." Wash said. "By the time he got her on the ground all that was left was the one engine and the cargo hold."
"And Jezza? The pink hair? She has voices." Pauley shivered and shook her head.
"Voices?" Zoe asked with the raise of an eyebrow.
"Don't ask, honey." Wash whispered, his eyes on the pink hair in question.
As if on cue, Jezza stopped, cocked her head as if listening to something, nodded and picked up a chair, breaking it over the back of one of the other pilots.
"Voices." Pauley and Wash said in unison.
"See? Crazy." Pauley spotted her captain and stood. "Good seeing you Wash. Gotta fly."
"Stay safe."
Pauley circled around the now fighting group of pilots to get to her captain. "Consorting with the enemy, little girl?"
She glanced over her shoulder at Wash. "No sir, I'm not that crazy."
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2009-08-25 07:53 am (UTC)Yeah, I ripped it from Rogers' blog. Short of actually getting Ellis to make it canonical, it's totally what he'd want...
Lonely Warrior, PG, Gen
Date: 2009-08-25 09:00 am (UTC)Dean was sitting at the bar drinking. It was a rare occasion for him to go drinking after the Pulse, not because it had become expensive or that he was too old to enjoy it anymore, but because he wasn’t depressed. No one seemed to be, well, everywhere he went anyway. There were a few, but not many. He guessed in a way, everyone knew in a small way that some evil had been lifted from the world. Lucifer was dead and he wasn’t coming back. Sure, there was still corruption and evil, but none of it was apocalypse worthy that Dean was sure of.
The man next to him seemed to be drinking from depression. His hoodie raised high over his head and his shoulders bent forward as he nursed his drink. The man pulled back his hood, seemingly unaware of Dean sitting next to him. He looked exactly like Dean, except younger, so that ruled out shapeshifter.
“Hey, kid,” Dean said to him.
“I’m not a kid, old man,” he said taking a sip of his drink.
“Doesn’t change the fact that you look like me.” Dean remembered another kid that had looked liked him a long time ago. “Is your name Ben?”
He stiffened and tensed up, “Why does everyone think that? I’m Alec! ALEC! I’m not some psycho serial killer! Maybe I boosted a few things, but I’m not on his level!”
“You sure are riding the crazy train, huh?”
“Damn it. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
“Okay, I was created by the government to be a super assassin. On my last job, I fell in love with the girl I was supposed to kill. I tried to stop it, but she ended up dying anyway. And Ben, my clone, went on a murdering spree taking people’s teeth and leaving them on altars. After that, I was released out in the world and the only people that will talk to me can’t stand me.”
“Sounds like you need another round of drinks.”
“You believe me?”
“Kid, I’ve seen stranger things than you.”
“Like what?”
“I was at ground zero when the ‘Pulse’ went off and trust me, it was no terrorist group.”
“What was it then?”
“Would you believe Lucifer?”
Alec laughed, “You’re the one who’s crazy.”
“Maybe. Or maybe I just hunt evil sons of bitches for a living. Look, Alec, I’m getting old. No two ways about it. Honestly? I never thought I would make it to be thirty let alone forty. I have a legacy, a huge one, and I need someone a lot younger than me to fill it.”
“So what are you suggesting?”
“You come with me and my brother, pick up a few things about hunting, and follow in my footsteps.”
“I don’t even know your name or anything about you.”
“I’m Dean. A little bird told me I’d find you,” Dean laughed as if it was a joke and Alec looked at him confused. “Prophecy or something about a lonely warrior, you’ll find that supernatural creatures enjoy being cryptic.”
“I’m not lonely,” Alec insisted.
“Here,” Dean said writing his number on a cocktail napkin. “If you find you’re a little lonelier than you think you ought to be, then give me a call.”
Dean finished his drink, clasped Alec on the shoulder once, and left. Alec stared at the number and considered throwing it away, instead he pocketed it. He returned to his drink and thought about Dean’s offer. Maybe he’d take him up on it. There was really nothing for him here.
Re: Lonely Warrior, PG, Gen
From:Re: Lonely Warrior, PG, Gen
From:Re: Lonely Warrior, PG, Gen
From:Gunning Down Romance, Dean and Logan
Date: 2010-08-08 05:35 pm (UTC)That is until Max Guevarra and through her, Alec McDowell and all the others, former test subjects of Manticore; and everything changed.
Looking back Logan realized that his rather arrogant attitudes and assumptions were no longer as iron-clad as he had once believed them to be.
On the surface a keen observer of human nature, would think that no two people could have had less in common than these two; but as time wore on,
through shared dangers and through the intervention of a woman they had been loved and left in their own unique way; he and Alec had found something that try as he might refused to be classified as a relationship. "If we'd had a moment to ourselves," thought Logan, "We would be unstoppable."
He could not recall where he had heard that line, either from a song or line of half-forgotten poetery, but it seemed to fit his melancholy at the moment. Logan whirled in his set of his motorized chair and propped his elbows onto the sill of the open window and looked out onto the streets of Seattle. Dean Winchester trotted by, wondering where in hell his brother Sam had got to, when he paused to take a few deep breaths. He stole quick glances in the direction that he had come from, assuring himself that for a moment had shaken off any pursuit. Logan, lost in his own thoughts caught a chance glimpse of someone else who wore Alec's face and distinct features; the same cropped hair, the same snub nose that had that distinct cast of having been broken in a fight any number of times and never set quite right.
The hair was a bit shorter than Alec had customarily worn his; and the look in the eyes was a bit more cynical; and well; world-weary however, the
resemblance was uncanny. Logan called out to the man. "You look to be man in a spot of trouble!
"Who wants to know?" demanded Dean, even as he dis so the distinct sound of tires from a car making a tight high-speed turn on wet pavement reached his
ears.
He glanced in the direction the voice had come from and saw a brown-haired man in a hover chair with chiseled features calling to him from an open window
of a old house.
"Do or don't," Logan replied. "It's entirely up to you."
Dean wavered, undecided, and then agreed, besides, even he could not evade pursuit forever; although it might be fun for a while until the odds caught up
with him and the adrenaline rush wore off.
"Okay, you got it, just don't try anything funny, capiche?" Wondering, not for the first time since he and Sam had arrived in Seattle if someone had
tipped off the local authorities to that friggin doppleganger case a while back that had caused Dean to make the FBI's red flag parnormal division.
Even so, they had assumed that given enough time it would be swept under the proverbial carpet and forgotten.
Logan nodded and said, "Come around to the other side, and I'll open the door for you." **
Dean came around to the side of the house and had to wait on the stoop for a bit until the man came around as he had said he would and unlocked the door.
"Why would you do this," Dean asked. "You don't even know me."
Logan smiled, this time with more wry amusement in it. "Let's just say, that it isn't entirely altruistic on part."
"Great, just great," Dean muttered. "Let's just say that you remind me of someone I was knew," Logan replied.
"Not you, too!" Dean exclaimed.
"I take it, this isn't the first time this has happened to you?" Logan asked.
"Yeah, and I get the funny feeling that it won't be the last." Dean sighed and realized that this was going to be a long night.
"Hey, you got any beer around this place?"
Re: Gunning Down Romance, Dean and Logan
From:no subject
Date: 2009-08-25 08:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-25 12:56 pm (UTC)Her wandering eyes lit upon House and Wilson, sitting at a nearby table. Since Mayfield any connection she had felt to House seemed to have been lost. It was as if hallucination sex had been enough for him. Now he leered at her in his usual fashion and made obsence comments but otherwise avoided her, his eyes flitting away from her whenever she caught him looking.
She shurgged inwardly, having House as a partner would be like trying to hold on to a handful of snowflakes. She, and Rachel, needed something more certain, more solid in their lives.
"Dr Cuddy?"
She looked up, startled out of her reverie. Standing before her was a tall dark haired man, handsome but with a fairly serious face.
"Aaron Hotchner. I'm with the Behavioural Analysis Unit of the FBI. I attended Doctor House's lecture on the observation and detection of physical defects today. I was hoping to talk to him about doing some consultancy work with us. He said I should talk to you as you held his leash.."
The man trailed off, frowning slightly, obviously not pleased at House's usual twisted sense of humour. She smiled.
"Good luck with that agent. House isn't exactly fond of law enforcement. Or of constancy, extra work, really anything. It was a major effort just to get him to give that lecture." It had involved some serious blackmail and a bribe of clinic hours off, but she didn't need to share that with this man.
"Too bad, his skills are what we are looking for. But I gather he isn't much of a team player."
Suddenly Cuddy had had enough of talking about House with this handsome man. She stood and held out her hand.
"Would you care to dance Agent Hotchner?"
His eyes widened for one second and he seemed about to refuse. Then he glanced off to the side and nodded.
"If we're going to dance perhaps you could call me Aaron?"
Cuddy smiled at him.
"Only if you call me Lisa."
By the time they reached the dance floor the previous upbeat song had changed into a romantic tune, calling for a waltz. They both paused for a beat and then Cuddy moved into his arms.
Their turns around the dance floor were slow, the distance between them becoming less as they relaxed into the music. Cuddy closed her eyes briefly, enjoying the moment, the sheer unexpected pleasure of it.
As the dance finished they pulled apart and she smiled at him. The serious look of his face had melted slightly and there was some warmth in his eyes and a small tug of a smile to his lips.
The moment was shattered by the shrill tone of his phone ringing and she turned away in disappointment as he immediately left her to answer it.
"Whatsa matter Cuddy? Prince charming over there dumped you?" House, of course, leaning on his cane, blue eyes mocking her. "You do know he's a spy?"
"He's not a spy House. He's with the FBI."
"FBI, CIA , can't keep those things straight. Looks like you scared him off anyway."
She shook her head, not willing to play his games. He didn't want her, but he didn't want anyone else to have her either apparently.
"Lisa?" Hotchner appeared at her elbow, touching it lightly. "Sorry about that. It was my team."
"I suppose you have to leave now?"
"I was going to, but then I told them to hold the fort until the morning. Another dance? If you'll excuse us Doctor House?"
"That would be lovely Aaron." She took his proffered elbow and they went off towards the dance floor, leaving House staring after them.
Perhaps this night would turn out to be what she needed after all.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2009-08-25 08:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-25 08:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-25 08:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-25 08:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-25 08:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-25 08:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-25 08:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-25 08:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-25 08:38 am (UTC)Blair/Ten
Date: 2009-08-25 03:53 pm (UTC)She glared at him as he wearily pinched the bridge of his nose. Glasses clattered back into place as the grip on her arm tightened just a bit. They stared at the heavily breathing creature, blood dripping in stains down it's face. Razor-shaped teeth clapped together loudly, bone against bone.
"A Dementor, not something you want to run into," murmured the Doctor, mouth curved down into one of the rare serious frowns she'd seen.
It took a moment for even Blair to realize he wasn't kidding as she let out a forced laugh; tight and just a little fake.
"It's a WHAT? As in Harry Potter soul sucking creature?" she questioned, taking a small step towards the immortal Time Lord.
He had to be kidding her, pulling her leg or something because Serena had dragged her to one of the movies and this was not what they had looked like. Compared to the thing before her, screaming souls begging against it's skin, Harry Potter had faced bunnies.
Before she could wait for an answer, she was practically dragged away from the creature as they began running through the empty space station. Kicking off high heels (why had she worn them), Blair clasped the Doctor's hand within hers as they raced through halls thick with dried blood.
The Doctor had answered a distress call, too late. Blair had vomited all over the floor (first time not forced) as soon as they'd walked out of the TARDIS.
"Harry Potter honestly? Those books are complete rubbish. Next time, perhaps she should do proper research before writing lies," the Doctor fumed as they slid under a halfway closed gate.
He stopped to listen for the wet sound of flesh hitting flesh; the rags had hung off of the Dementor.
"Dementor's are related quite closely to the stone angels. Just they really don't care if you're looking or not. And they like to keep you alive for a few years...slowly stripping the flesh from your bones," he murmured as Blair's breath caught.
Clenching his hand tighter, she let out a shaky stream of air.
"We'll be fine. You're the Doctor...I trust you with my life," she whispered (believing it more as they crashed through time).
Re: Blair/Ten
From:Re: Blair/Ten
From:no subject
Date: 2009-08-25 08:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-24 02:14 am (UTC)It was some dusty little hole in the middle of nowhere on the border between Missouri and Arkansas that the two met. One was on the run from the cops while the other was running from the disastrous results of the last supernatural crisis. Both left their brothers behind in seedy motels, fraternal responsibility strangling them and sending them far from the safety and love embodied by their other halves. The need to breathe was overwhelming.
The Dive was small, dim and dusty. Smoke hazed the air and the conversations within were just noisy enough to provide background for everyone else while keeping their individual contributions secret. By some small mercy the tired duo bumped into each other on the way inside. Tired eyes full of wariness, desperation, and grim determination met and a connection was immediately felt. They made no conversation, none was needed and they didn't need the attachment to another human being, instead they headed to the dirty bar. For the rest of the evening and well into the night the two dark haired strangers traded paying the bill in return for quiet companionship.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2009-08-25 09:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-25 09:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-25 09:18 am (UTC)Just In Case, Firefly/Dollhouse, River/Echo, can't forget/can't remember
Date: 2010-07-23 09:44 pm (UTC)Her world was wrapped around the shell of her body and yet there was nothing left inside.
River danced delicate steps around her as she watched, brown, soulful eyes that held no spirit save the one they gave, as if she could pick up the pieces of her life if she could just remember the steps.
River knew it wasn’t possible.
“Can’t forget. Can’t remember. Can’t get free of the cage of flesh, can’t come back to an empty shell. Where will she go when they want her no more?”
She danced around her again, taking her hand so that she could follow. It wouldn’t work, learning the steps.
But just in case.
no subject
Date: 2009-08-25 09:21 am (UTC)(if you're worried about characterization, don't be. Just have Jason say 'dude' a lot and you've had his character pegged perfectly)
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Date: 2009-08-25 09:21 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2009-08-25 10:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-25 10:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-25 10:59 am (UTC)