The Multifandom (Incest-Free) Family Ficathon

Apologies and Announcement

Sat, 06 Sep 2008 11:59:56 GMT

I'm sure everyone noticed round two didn't go as smoothly as round one, and that owed a great deal to the fact that thekatebeyond and I both sort of dropped the ball here at the end. We didn't intend to, but between life and other commitments, family_haven suffered. For this, I extend sincere apologies on behalf of the both of us. We wouldn't co-mod this thing if we didn't want it to succeed, and we should have kept on top of it all the way through.

With that in mind, I have an announcement for all of you who don't already know. thekatebeyond is taking a hiatus from online life to deal with real life issues. This is something I don't begrugde her at all, because I know it's important, something she really needs to do for herself and her family.

As for me, I have entirely too many projects as it is, so I've decided to wrap up round two by adding fics to the master list that aren't already there, and then allow family_haven to hiatus along with its moderators. This was thekatebeyond's brainchild and baby, so for me to continue without her just doesn't seem right.

Though, I doubt she'd want it to die, even if only for a little while. So, I'm going to offer this option: anyone interested in filling in as temporary mods until thekatebeyond and I return, please feel free to comment to this entry to begin a discussion. I'd feel best about it if there could be at least two temporary mods, as I don't think one mod could do it alone.

If no one comes forward, then family_haven will be on hiatus until further notice.

Again, apologies to everyone for the not-so-smooth round two.

--celestineangel

On the Road Again -- Chapter 4 of 4

Fri, 22 Aug 2008 03:03:41 GMT

Title: On the Road Again, Chapter 4 of 4
Author: jlm110108
Rated: PG
Fandom: Numb3rs
Spoilers: Episodes: "Money for Nothing" and "When Worlds Collide"
Written for: Water-Soter
Characters: Don (main), Charlie and Alan
Prompt: Vacation gone wrong
Things you don't want: No romance, incest of any kind, no character death, no Rambo Charlie, no OC as a primary character, no excess humor.

Chapter 4

The next morning, Don sat next to the koi pond in Charlie’s back yard. He watched Tombrello, the fish Charlie had said liked to hide, swimming through the shadows. He tossed a piece of food in front of Tombrello and smiled as the old fish snapped up the food.

Don jumped as his father’s voice startled him. "Hey, those fish are going to be as big as whales if you keep feeding them like that."

"Doesn’t Charlie normally feed them in the morning? Is he still sleeping?"

"Yes, he is. He’s okay, though. I just checked on him."

"You sure? He does have a concussion. Shouldn’t we be waking him up?"

"He’s fine. I woke him up every two hours last night." Alan eased himself onto the bench next to Don. "Are you okay, Son?"

"Why wouldn’t I be? You two were the ones being held by those idiots." He glanced up at Alan, studying his face. "You’re okay, right? They didn’t hurt you, did they?"

Alan patted Don’s shoulder. "I’m fine. For the hundredth time, they did not hurt me. And I know you’re fine physically, but you seem a little upset by this whole experience."

Don sighed and tossed another piece of food into the water. "Yeah, I am upset. When I was standing outside that cabin, trying to figure out how to get you guys out without getting you killed, I realized how close I was to losing you. And I was afraid I wasn’t going to have a chance to let Charlie know how proud I am of him."

Alan squeezed Don’s shoulder then reached for a piece of fish food. "You’ve got that chance now, Donnie."

"I know. And I don’t want to blow it."

The two men turned at the sound of the back door opening. "Charlie!" Alan stood. "Come and sit down. Are you feeling okay?"

Charlie smiled, squinting at the bright morning sun. "Except for a pounding headache, I’m fine. Why’d you let me sleep so long?"

Don chuckled. "I’ve got this one, Dad. Charlie, you need your rest."

"Oh, great. Now I’ve got two dads," Charlie sat on the bench next to Don. "Have you talked with your insurance agent yet?"

"Not yet. It’s too early in the day to start drinking, and I don’t think I can face that conversation without at least two beers in me."

Alan said, "I’m going to fix some breakfast. Can I get you boys anything?"

"No thanks," Charlie said, "I’m still feeling a little queasy."

"Whatever you’re fixing is good for me," Don said. He watched as Alan headed back to the house, then turned to Charlie. "I guess Dad’s given up on his intervention idea."

Charlie nodded, then grimaced. "I think he’s figured we’re a lost cause."

"Well, he’s wrong," Don said softly. "Listen, I almost blew my chance to tell you this, and I’m not going to put it off any longer."

Charlie met Don’s gaze solemnly. "Go ahead."

"I know we disagreed about the whole Phil Sanjrani thing…"

Charlie snorted. "That’s putting it mildly."

"You made my life a lot more complicated when you emailed those files to Pakistan."

"Not as bad as you guys made Phil’s life when you arrested him as a terrorist."

"He broke the law."

"A law he had no way of knowing he was breaking."

"Wait," Don held up his hand, "can we not do this? I know we’re not going to agree on this issue, but I wanted to say that I respect your beliefs and I am proud of you for acting on those beliefs in spite of the risk."

Charlie had opened his mouth to interrupt, but was stunned into silence.

Don grinned. "You look like Tombrello."

Charlie closed his mouth and shook his head. "My brain must really be scrambled. I thought you just said you were proud of me for knowingly breaking the law."

"Your brain is fine. I am proud of you. I know I don’t say it enough…"

"Once in thirty years is fine with me."

Alan smiled as he watched through the window. The vacation certainly hadn’t gone the way he had planned. But his boys were finally talking to each other, and it looked like they were going to be all right.

THE END

On the Road Again, Chapter 3 of 4

Wed, 20 Aug 2008 20:46:59 GMT

Title: On the Road Again, Chapter 3 of 4
Author: jlm110108
Rated: PG
Fandom: Numb3rs
Spoilers: Episodes: "Money for Nothing" and "When Worlds Collide"
Written for: Water-Soter
Characters: Don (main), Charlie and Alan
Prompt: Vacation gone wrong
Things you don't want: No romance, incest of any kind, no character death, no Rambo Charlie, no OC as a primary character, no excess humor.

Chapter 3

Don made his way back along the wall. When he arrived back at the middle window, he heard his father’s voice, murmuring in soothing tones. Don couldn’t make out the words, but he hoped that meant Charlie was conscious.

He heard Mike, the thug he assumed was in charge. His voice sounded further away, so Don took a deep breath and risked a quick look through the window.

After he ducked back out of sight, he analyzed the situation. The four thugs were on the far side of the room, huddled in conversation. Alan, Charlie and the ranger were seated on the floor on this side of the room, near the front corner. Don couldn't be sure, but he thought his dad had seen him. Charlie had been struggling to sit up. The ranger had his back to Don, but his right upper arm was bleeding. All three men had their hands and ankles bound.

Even if Don could distract all four thugs, there was no way the three captives could escape. It would take some kind of major distraction to draw the four men outside where Don could deal with them.

A distraction. Don pondered firing his weapon, but figured the head thug would make someone stay behind to watch their captives. He wished again that Alan had trusted his sons enough to leave the keys in the SUV. He also wished he had some idea of what the thugs wanted. The options flew through Don’s brain, and none of them seemed good.

A moment later, he had made a decision. Hunched down so he wouldn’t be seen from the windows, he ran along the cabin to the SUV. Pulling his Swiss Army knife from his pocket, he pried open the door protecting the gas cap. Then he rummaged through the boxes in the back until he found dishtowels and a lighter. With a prayer that his insurance would cover this, he tied the dishtowels together and stuffed one end into the gas tank. He lit the other end, turning his SUV into a giant Molotov cocktail, and ran toward the back of the cabin.

Luckily the ranger had left the back door unlocked. Don crossed the living area, and stood behind the door that led to the office, waiting for the explosion, and wondering how long he had. Charlie would have been able to calculate it down to the second. Don smiled as he thought of all the cases he and Charlie had worked together. His smile faded. Why did Charlie have to email that sensitive information to those Pakistani professors? What was he thinking? Didn’t he realize that one action would change their relationship forever? On the one hand, Don felt betrayed that Charlie had broken the law. On the other hand, he was surprisingly proud that his brother had stood up for what he believed was right. Now, waiting to take an action that could end up with one or both of them dead, he wished they had talked it out. He wished he had told Charlie how proud he was.

Don pressed his ear to the door. He knew he would have no trouble hearing the explosion when it happened. But he still needed to know what was going on in the office. Were the thugs still to his left? Or had they moved back to his right? He could hear the murmur of voices, but couldn’t gather any information from them. He tested the knob, making sure he would be able to open the door.

After what seemed like forever, the whole cabin shook as his SUV exploded. Don pulled the door open and burst into the office. The front door was open, and two of the thugs were in the doorway. The other two were at the window. “FBI! FREEZE!” Don bellowed, raising his gun.

The thugs started to turn. “Drop the weapons and put your hands on your heads. NOW!” When the thugs had complied, Don said, “On your knees. NOW!”

Once the four men were on their knees, hands on their heads, Don risked a glance at the hostages. Keeping his gun trained on the thugs, he pulled out his Swiss Army knife and cut the ropes binding the ranger’s wrists. He handed the man the knife and pulled out his cell phone. “Colby? Send ‘em in. I’ve got things under control.”

The ranger finished cutting the ropes binding himself, Charlie and Alan, and stood slowly. Don glanced at him. “Do you have a gun?”

“Yeah. Behind the counter.”

“Get it. We’re going to move these four into the corner so we can keep a better eye on them. And if you have any rope, or duct tape or barbed wire, we can tie ‘em up.”

The ranger chuckled. “Sorry. No barbed wire, but I do have rope.”

“Damn,” Don muttered, “That’ll have to do.” He kept his gun trained on the thugs as the ranger went behind the counter. “Dad? Charlie? You guys okay?”

“I’m fine, Donnie,” Alan said. “One of those idiots hit your brother over the head with his gun.”

“I’m okay,” Charlie said. “If the ranger has another gun, I can help…”

“Stay put, Charlie,” Don said softly. “I know you can handle it, but we’ve got it under control.”

“You sure? I can…”

“I’m sure, Buddy. You just get some rest, okay?”

The ranger returned with his gun and rope. “Sorry, I’ve only got one gun. My name’s Barry, by the way.”

“Don Eppes,” Don said. “I’ll keep these guys covered while you tie them up.” He paused. “Listen, while you’re tying them up, why don’t you give Charlie your gun? He’s a great shot.”

“Sure,” Barry handed Charlie the gun. “Uh, Don, you are really FBI, right?”

“Yep. You want to see my badge?”

“That’s okay. I believe you,” Barry said as he kicked the thugs’ guns across the cabin floor toward Don. “Here’s some more weapons for you.”

As Barry cut lengths of rope, Don asked, “So, Barry, what on earth was going on here? What did these guys want?”

“You’re not going to believe this. They planted pot on park land. I found them harvesting it, and they freaked out. They wanted me to help them move it and cover for them. I told them we could come back here and get some clippers and bags and make the job easier.”

“You lied,” Mike muttered.

“So sue me,” Barry said as he tied Mike’s hands. “When we got back here, they realized what was happening and jumped me. Then your dad and brother came in through the door. Bad timing.”

Don chuckled. “It looks like it worked out to be good timing for you.”

“Yeah. I think I forgot to thank you.”

“No problem,” Don said.

“Easy for you to say,” Charlie interrupted. “You’re not the one with the headache.”

“Yeah, Buddy, but I’m the one with a car that’s a pile of ashes right now.”

“That was the explosion? Your car?” Barry was stunned. “I hope it was a junker.”

“Nope. A 2008 Ford Explorer, sadly,” Don said.

“Don…” Charlie gasped. “My laptop was in there.”

Don shrugged. “Your files are backed up, right?”

“Uh… I backed everything up two days ago. Maybe…” Charlie got to his feet and looked out the window. He sat back down with a sigh. “Will the FBI buy me a new laptop?”

“I’m just hoping they’ll buy me a new car, Buddy.”

Alan chuckled. “Maybe you can convince them it was an act of vandalism. You don’t have to tell them you were the vandal.”

“Sneaky, Dad. But we’ve got witnesses,” Don said.

Barry retrieved his gun from Charlie. “Thanks,” he said. Turning to Don, he said, “I didn’t see you do anything to that car, Agent Eppes.”

“We didn’t either,” Alan agreed. “Right, Charlie?”

“Right. And neither did those four potheads.” Charlie rubbed his head gingerly.

Don glanced at Charlie, concerned. “Barry, keep an eye on our guests. I want to have a look at Charlie’s head.” He knelt beside his brother. “Charlie? Let me see. Where’d he hit you?”

“Right here,” Charlie lifted his curls and winced.

Don grimaced as he looked at the bloody bump on his brother’s head. “Okay, Buddy, let me have a look at your eyes.” He took Charlie’s chin and gently lifted his head. “All right. You think you’d be more comfortable sitting or lying down? I can get you a pillow if you’d like.”

“Where from? Our stuff is all vaporized.”

“I’m sure Barry has a pillow you can use.”

“I’m okay. Just let me lean against the wall and I’ll be fine.”

“Dad, you keep an eye on him, okay?”

“Sure. Where are you going?”

“The local cops should be here soon. I want to make sure they bring an ambulance, and I want to touch base with Colby.”

Charlie grumbled, “I don’t need an ambulance. Can’t we just drive… er … catch a ride with Colby?”

On the Road Again -- Chapter 2 of 4

Tue, 19 Aug 2008 17:23:02 GMT

Title: On the Road Again, Chapter 2 of 4
Author: jlm110108
Rated: PG
Fandom: Numb3rs
Spoilers: Episodes: "Money for Nothing" and "When Worlds Collide"
Written for: Water-Soter
Characters: Don (main), Charlie and Alan
Prompt: Vacation gone wrong
Things you don't want: No romance, incest of any kind, no character death, no Rambo Charlie, no OC as a primary character, no excess humor.

Chapter 2:

Charlie closed his computer and leaned forward between the two front seats. “What’s going on?”

“I think our father is playing Dr. Phil. Look around, Charlie. Where do you think we’re going?”

Charlie looked around, studying the landscape. “Obviously we’re going into the mountains. Where else would we…”

Without commenting, Alan made a left turn onto a narrow road.

“Now do you get it, Chuck?” Don asked.

Charlie’s eyes widened. “Yeah. I do. This is the campground where we came for your thirteenth birthday. Dad, this isn’t a vacation. Did Don’s shrink put you up to this?”

“Nope. I came up with this all by myself,” Alan growled. “Now, both of you, shut up and enjoy the drive.”

“It’s the last thing we’ll enjoy this week,” Don muttered. “What are you going to do, Dad? Have an intervention? Who all is going to be there to confront us?”

“Nobody. It’ll just be the three of us. And it won’t be an intervention. I just want to have the two of you take time to talk to each other Charlie losing his clearance, and about all the issues you’ve ignored all your lives.”

“We couldn’t do that in the back yard?” Don asked. “You have to bring us back to the scene of one of our family’s worst moments? You know Charlie and I have worked that out? He told me he wasn’t lost. He was walking home because my buddies and I were so mean to him.”

Charlie opened his mouth to object, but Alan interrupted. “You’ve had a month to work it out in the back yard and you haven’t done it. I was hoping that bringing you back here might remind you of how stupid we all were and how our stupidity damaged our family for all those years.”

“So,” Charlie said slowly, “you think we’re on the verge of imploding again. You know that even if I don’t get my security clearance back, I can still work on some of Don’s cases.”

“I know.” Alan pulled the car into a spot in front of the camp office. “Stay here. I’m going to check us in.” He pulled Don’s keys from the ignition and pointedlly stuck them into his pocket.

Don took a deep breath and blew it out slowly as he watched his father walk into the office. “I can’t believe he’s doing this. I don’t know about you, but I came for a vacation. I don’t need to deal with this crap.”

“I really screwed things up again, didn’t I?” Charlie’s voice was so quiet, Don had to turn around to hear him.

“Don’t do this again.”

“Do what? What am I doing, Don?”

“You’re making it all about you. Again.”

“Listen, this was Dad’s idea, not mine. Stop taking it out on me.” Charlie leaned back in his seat and opened his laptop.

“Let me see,” Don reached for the laptop.

“No,” Charlie said without lifting his head.

“Fine,” Don snarled, turning to watch the door of the camp office. He waited, growing more irritated as the minutes passed. “Charlie, how long ago did Dad go in there?”

“How should I know?” Charlie snapped. “You’re the one who’s always checking his watch.”

“It’s taking too long,” Don said, opening his car door. “I’m going to see if he needs any help.”

Charlie rolled his eyes and closed his laptop. “Let’s go. I need to stretch my legs anyway.”

As they reached the office, Don’s phone rang. He glanced at the display. “I’ve gotta take this. You go ahead in.”

“It’d better not be work, or Dad’s going to kill you.”

“Nah. It’s Robin. Now, shoo.”

Charlie snickered. “You don’t want me to overhear your lovey dovey talk.” He pulled the door open and entered the office.

Don had just put the phone to his ear when he heard Charlie yell from inside the office. “Don! Get help! Four guns….” Charlie’s voice was cut off with a yelp of pain.

Someone inside the office locked the door and yelled, “Shut up!”

“Robin! I’ll call you back,” Don yelled into the phone and slammed it shut. He ran toward the SUV, reaching into his pocket for his keys. Shielding himself behind his car, he realized suddenly that his dad had the keys. Keeping his eye on the cabin, he opened his phone and dialed.

“Granger,” Colby answered.

“Colby, listen, I’ve got a situation up here.”

“I thought you were on vacation.”

“I thought so too. Dad and Charlie are in some kind of hostage situation. I don’t know the details yet. I wanted to call you first. It’s going to take you an hour to get up here.”

“Where are you?”

Don gave Colby the directions, and filled him in on the little he knew about the situation.

“We’ll be there as soon as we can. And I’ll get the locals involved too. They can get there faster. Just be careful.”

“I will. Thanks, Colby.” Don closed his phone and shoved it into his pocket. Drawing his weapon, he breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t let his dad talk him out of bringing it with him. He approached the building, studying its layout carefully. It was a small log cabin. The front door was flanked by two windows with red and white checked curtains. The curtains were drawn.

He moved to his right, his eyes moving constantly, and looked around the corner. The right side of the building had no windows. He pressed his back against the front wall and moved slowly until he stood next to the window. He strained to hear the voices inside. He could barely make out Alan’s voice, raised in anger.

“You didn’t have to do that…”

“Shut up, old man, or I’ll do the same to you. Is anyone else in that fancy SUV of yours?”

“No. Just my son and me.”

“Who’s Don?”

“I don’t know. I guess Charlie was hoping to distract you.”

“Well, it didn’t work. Ronnie, go check the SUV!”

Don ran to the right side of the cabin, moving back far enough that he couldn’t be seen from the SUV and waited.

Charlie had said four guns. One of those guns was heading outside now, but that still left three armed men with his father and brother. Don didn’t dare risk their lives. He decided instead to finish exploring the outside of the cabin. More data was always good. He smiled as he thought about Charlie’s constant refrain, “I need more data, Don.” He blinked tears away as he thought about his often-annoying younger brother, wondering what had happened to him.

When he reached the back of the cabin, he stopped, listening. When he was assured that nobody was back there, he peered around the corner. The ranger’s jeep was back there, and nothing else. The back of the cabin was a mirror image of the front – a door flanked by two windows. Let’s hope the ranger was careless with his keys, Don thought as he jogged toward the jeep. No such luck. The doors were locked. He watched the back door and windows for any sign of activity, then continued to the remaining side of the cabin.

This side had three windows, low enough that Don could get a look inside the cabin and find out what had happened to his family. He leaned against the wall, listening at the first window. When he didn’t hear anything, he risked a peek. It looked like the ranger’s sleeping quarters, empty and separated from the office by a wall and a closed door. He pulled at the window. It was locked from the inside.

He slunk along the wall to the second window. This time he heard voices.

“There’s nobody out there.”

“Did you look around?”

“Yeah. Of course. You think I’m an idiot?”

“I’m not gonna answer that one. Check the kid. Make sure he’s okay.”

Don held his breath. What did they do to Charlie? Was he still alive?

“He’s breathing.”

“Good. Tie ‘em both up and put ‘em next to the ranger.”

“What are we gonna do with them?”

“Depends on whether they behave or not. What about it, Ranger? Old Man? You gonna behave?”

Two voices answered, “Yes.”

“Old Man, you gonna keep your kid in line?”

“Yes,” Alan answered.

Don bristled. He wanted nothing more than to rush in there and kill the thugs. But his intellect overcame his instinct, and he continued to listen.

“What do you want with us?” Alan asked.

“We want you to just sit there and be quiet.”

Another voice answered, “They want me. Listen, why don’t you just let these two guys go? They’re not going to do you any good.”

“What do they want you for?” Alan asked.

“If you tell him, you know I’m gonna have to kill him.”

“Just let them go, and I’ll do everything you want,” the ranger begged.

“Mike, why don’t you let them go? We’ll be gone before they can bring the cops here.”

“Ronnie, you’re an idiot. Didn’t you ever hear of cell phones?”

“So take their phones. Maybe if they know you’re going to kill the ranger if the cops show up, they’ll be good boys.”

Don muttered a curse, pulled out his cell phone and moved back along the wall toward the unoccupied part of the cabin. “Colby!” he whispered, “Call the locals and have them stay back. These guys have a park ranger hostage and they’re going to kill him if any cops show up.”

“How are your dad and Charlie?”

“Dad’s okay. Charlie’s unconscious. He tried to warn me and they did something to him.”

“Where are you now?”

“Outside the cabin. I’ve gotta go. Just make sure nobody comes up here until I tell you it’s clear.”

“What’re you going to do?”

“I have no idea,” Don closed his phone and slid it back into his pocket.

FIC: Warts and All (Charmed, 1/1), for lostandalone22

Tue, 19 Aug 2008 01:54:30 GMT

Title: Warts and All
Author: dragonsinger
Rating: PG
Written for: lostandalone22
Summary: Wyatt threatens Chris's middle school bully, much to Chris's chagrin.
Disclaimer: Wyatt, Chris, Piper, Paige, and the world of Charmed belong to Constance M. Burge, Brad Kern, and Spelling Entertainment. I only own Garrett.
Thank You to ladybug218 for the awesomely quick beta.
Author's Note: Please forgive me for being late. My humblest apologies.

Chris Halliwell hunched behind the large book bag on his back. He kept his head down, carefully navigating through the busy school hallway. He hoped he could make it through his first day of middle school unscathed.

It wasn’t easy. A huge classmate named Garrett Hutchens didn’t make it easy. He was a big kid with greasy brown hair, squinty hazel eyes, and a smirk constantly on his pimpled face. From the moment Chris sat down in his seat, Garrett thumped the back of his head. The first couple of times, Chris asked him to stop, but it did no good. As the day went on, Garrett tripped him or called him names or threw things at him. None of the other kids spoke up to help, and Chris refused to be a tattle tale. He was amazed each of his teachers didn’t notice. Garrett seemed to have bullying down to a science. As far as he was concerned, Chris was his personal punching bag.

Chris breathed a sigh of relief when Garrett wasn’t in his last class of the day. While he shared his other five classes with the bully, language arts would be a breath of fresh air. Now all he had to worry about was finding Wyatt at the end of the day before Garrett found him. When the last bell rang, he disappeared into the crowd.

He dared to look up as he turned the corner and relief flooded him. Wyatt stood by his locker, waiting. Never in his life had he been so happy to see his older brother.

‘I won’t tell him,’ Chris promised himself.

When he reached the locker, though, Wyatt noticed the expression on his face. After defeating a few demons and warlocks together (not to mention a nasty case of real monsters under the bed when they were younger), Chris and Wyatt could always tell something was wrong by simply looking at each other.

“What happened?” he asked.

Chris shook his head as he opened his locker. Garrett wasn’t a demon; Wyatt didn’t need to know. “Nothing.” He took off his backpack, opened it, and took out the books he didn’t need for homework.

“Bull. I know that look. What happened?”

Chris kept his eyes focused on his locker as he shoved the books inside. “It’s nothing, Wy. Let it go.” He pushed the last remaining book inside and slammed the door. Throwing his book bag onto his back, he turned to head out the side door. Instead of arguing, Wyatt fell into step beside him.

They made no more than five steps before something hard smacked Chris on the back of the head. Chris lost his balance and dropped to the floor, his nose aching from the impact with the hard surface.

“Hey, Dickface, where’re you going? Running home to cry to Mommy?”

***

Wyatt saw the ball hit the back of Chris’s head, watched as he brother fell to the floor. Anger surged through him. Nobody...nobody messed with his family. He whirled around to face the attacker, his hands tightened into fists. “What did you say?” he demanded.

The big kid laughed, his wide mouth nearly swallowing all of his features. He then gave Wyatt a cold glare.

“Don’t tell me Dickface has a friend. This’ll be fun.”

“Go away, Garrett,” Chris groaned.

Wyatt didn’t turn away from Garrett. This kid was dead meat. “You want to fight? Under the bleachers. Five minutes.”

“You got it.”

Neither boy moved away. Both stood in the hallway, glaring at each other. After what felt like forever, Garrett moved first. Once the crowd swallowed him, Wyatt grabbed Chris’s dropped book bag and nudged him to the door.

“Wyatt, forget about it. He’s bigger than you,” Chris said.

Wyatt was quiet all the way to the bleachers. He had faced demons, warlocks, and all other kinds of evil, and he refused to let some school bully get the best of his brother. Chris was his responsibility and nobody was going to hurt him while he was there. Satisfied no one else was underneath the bleachers, he healed Chris’s bloody nose. He then found a spot under the bleachers and waited.

“Wyatt, Mom’s going to be here any minute. Let’s just go.”

“No way. Nobody hurts you and gets away with it.”

“He’s not a demon, you know.”

Wyatt shook the blond curls out of his eyes. “Don’t care. He’s a jerk all the same.”

Five minutes later, Garrett walked around to the back of the bleachers. He was alone. He pounded his fist into his palm, a grin on his face.

“This is gonna be fun,” he said.

Wyatt didn’t say anything. He merely narrowed his brown eyes. Garrett raised his fist and Wyatt ducked. He then plowed his fist into Garrett’s gut. The bigger kid doubled over, his face contorted in pain.

“Okay, Wyatt, you hit him. Can we go now?”

Wyatt ignored him. He stepped back and watched Garrett try to straighten up. He could leave it like that. Common sense told him he should, but Garrett would only make Chris’s life worse. He’d seen bullies do it all the time at this mortal school. A slow smile spread across his face as an idea occurred to him; might as well make the jerk afraid of him.

He drew in a breath and spat out a spell he’d been working on for a while. Yellow lights swirled around Garrett. The lights grew until they completely covered the taller boy. Within a few seconds, the lights shrunk. When they vanished, a big, green bullfrog stood where Garrett had once been.

“Wyatt...” Chris’s voice was filled with disbelief.

Wyatt leaned against one of the poles holding up the bleachers. “Relax. I’ll turn him back in a minute.”

Chris looked from the frog to Wyatt. “But what about consequences? Remember the time you turned the whole house into ice because you wanted to make it snow? Mom’s gonna kill you.”

“Stop worrying, Chris. That was selfish. This was for a good cause. He won’t mess with you anymore.” His skin started to tingle and itch. Absently, he scratched. All of a sudden, tiny white lights appeared all over his skin.

Wyatt held up his arms. His eyes grew wide as warts popped up where the tiny lights touched him. Within a matter of minutes, he was covered.

“No!” He rounded on Chris. “You’re not going to tell Mom about this, are you?”

At that moment, blue lights swirled around the space between Chris and Wyatt. They joined together to form their mother and their Aunt Paige.

Wyatt’s stomach dropped. No way to keep it a secret from his mother now.

Mom let out a deep breath when she saw Chris. “There you are. I got worried when you didn’t come to the car, and then Paige orbed in and said she thought something was wrong. Why are you here?” Before Chris could answer, she turned to look at Wyatt. “What happened to you?!” Her voice rose an octave.

Chris shrugged. “Guess I won’t have to tell her anything.”

Paige laughed. “I think someone used magic when he wasn’t supposed to.”

“I was only trying to get someone back for hitting Chris,” Wyatt explained, his head hung low. All of his earlier anger was gone, and he didn’t have any fight left. Now all he wanted were these stupid warts gone.

“Get who back?” Mom asked.

Wyatt pointed to the bullfrog. Mom’s face went from pleasant to furious in ten seconds flat. She whirled on Wyatt.

“You turned a classmate into a frog?”

“I wasn’t going to leave him like that. I only wanted to scare him a little and teach him a lesson.”

“Turn him back right now, young man.”

Wyatt crossed his arms over his chest. “Fine.” He said another spell, and the yellow lights returned. The bullfrog changed back into a terrified and confused Garrett.

The taller boy looked at Mom, Aunt Paige, Chris, and Wyatt. He took two steps back. “You’re both freaks,” he declared and took off running.

“Is he going to tell?” Paige asked.

“I don’t think anybody would believe him,” Mom said. She focused her attention on Wyatt. To his dismay, he was still covered in warts.

“Why didn’t they go away?” he asked.

“Because you need to learn your own lesson.” Mom took him by the arm, and then took Paige’s hand. She nodded to Chris. “Grab the backpacks. We’re going home.”

***

Chris did as he was told and took Paige’s other hand. He smiled as the world disappeared in a swirl of blue lights.

The next day Garrett didn’t say or do anything to him. It was almost as if the bigger boy was afraid of him. Chris grinned to himself. At least Wyatt’s warts were worth something.

Firefly Fic: Patterns

Thu, 14 Aug 2008 03:51:23 GMT

Title: Patterns
Author: Allie
Written For:: waywardrifter
Rating: PG
Pairing: None
Warnings: Mild angst
Spoilers: Vague (really vague) for "Out of Gas"
Word Count 1,105
Prompt: Simon gets tired of baby-sitting River
Author's Notes: The characters and universe belong to Joss Whedon and, alas, Fox. This is my first attempt at Firefly fic, so concrit is welcome as always. Huge thanks to sabaceanbabe and lyssie for the beta help.

“Simon, you’re making a serious mistake.”

Sometimes, he reflected, there was nothing in the ‘verse more irritating than the high-pitched treble of a six-year-old girl.

“Domus means house. Dominus is the word you want. That’s how you say ‘master.’”

“You haven’t had Latin yet.”

River giggled as if they were sharing a joke. And maybe they were, but Simon hated the feeling that their jokes were always at his expense.

“That’s irrelevant. I know Latin.”

It was true, he thought, with uncustomary bitterness. She knew it much better than he did, purely from glancing at his homework over his shoulder. It took some of the pride in being at the top of your 8th grade honors class away when a first-grader was constantly showing you up.

Most of the time Simon didn’t mind. In fact, he loved River’s quickness at math and science and poetry, and when Father wasn’t around, she was his best bet for a decent conversation about the history of the Alliance. It was easy to forgive her for excelling at those things, but Latin was different. It was the one subject Simon struggled with – not like math, where you could learn the rules and know how to do every problem. With Latin, even after you mastered the rules, you still had hours and hours of rote memorization ahead of you. Unless, of course, you happened to be River.

He was halfway through the sentence when she started wiggling around like she was about to wet herself. “Siiiimoooon! I wanna play!”

“I need to finish this.”

“Let me help.”

He knew she didn’t mean to insult him, that she was just desperate for his undivided attention. Most of the time, that would have been gratifying. But not right now.

“Suit yourself, smarty-pants,” was not the pithiest rejoinder Simon had ever devised, though he thought it sounded rather better in Mandarin. He couldn’t help but take a grim satisfaction in the way her eyes instantly filled with tears that were just as quickly blinked back. Certain that River could amuse herself, he stomped out of the room and didn’t look back until he was standing at Sylvester Chin’s front door.

When he returned hours later, River had polished off his Latin homework, his math homework, and was two paragraphs into his essay on the top five benefits of Unification. Simon stuffed what was finished into his knapsack, not bothering to check for mistakes. He honestly wondered what took her so long, until he noticed the way her two chubby fists were awkwardly gripping the pen all 8th-grade essays were required to be written in.

“I was bored,” was all she said, and though Simon knew he ought to feel guilty, he didn’t, really. He had had fun fishing and playing down by the river, and it wasn’t until Mrs. Chin sent a wave to his parents reminding him of the jacket he’d left there that remorse belatedly set in. “No matter how smart she gets, she’s still your little sister,” Father had told him with sad eyes. “She needs her big brother when we’re not around.”

Though he’d apologized, Simon knew Father was wrong about one thing. His sister might love having him to play with, but she didn’t need him. In a way, he wished she did. Then maybe he’d feel like a real elder brother.

***

Simon sprinted through Serenity’s halls, heart speeding up as he reached his quarters. He had asked Wash to ask the Shepherd to look after River while he was down on New Beijing with Mal and Jayne. He’d been having the time of his life, posing as a wealthy buyer with the Captain and Jayne as his two manservants. Jayne’s barely concealed outrage at this development was half the fun of it, and Simon wouldn’t be surprised to learn that was Mal’s main reason for the arrangement. The job had gone off exactly as planned and he was still grinning when he met Book strolling casually down the corridor, with no River in sight. He barely had to curse himself for trusting Wash when the man was obviously consumed with thoughts of his wife, still recovering from her recent injuries. He should have talked to the man himself; Book had never even known he was gone.

“River? Sweetheart?” She was sitting on the floor amidst a pile of clothes, his and hers strewn together. Her hands frantically folded pairs of socks, pulling them apart and then putting them together again. They were all out of order, white socks with colored, dark purple with red-and-black striped.

“River?” He approached cautiously and knelt down in front of her, eyes scanning instinctively for signs of injury.

“The patterns are repeating themselves, over and over and over,” she said desperately, hands still frantically pulling apart and putting back together. “You left me.”

“I’m sorry, Mei-Mei.” He reached out a hand halfway to still hers, but paused, wary. He didn’t want to spook her any further. Finally, she seemed to come out of it on her own, setting aside her task for a moment and raising her eyes to somewhere around his jaw line, at least.

“Patterns alter.” She sighed. “The white socks are a mistake.”

Relief washed over him, as it did whenever she said anything remotely connected to reality these days. “Yeah,” he laughed, “Kaylee says the same thing.”

He thought he imagined a half-smile cross her face, but it was gone in a flash. He wondered whether it was too soon to start picking up the clothes, and decided to wait until she was asleep. It shouldn’t be too long, after an episode.

Simon let guilt wash over him as the adrenaline slowly faded, wanting to feel it strongly so he would remember. He had given up his home, his family, his vocation, and even, he sometimes thought, his honor to preserve his sister’s well-being and what was left of her sanity. He was not about to risk either of those for an afternoon of fun tormenting Jayne, or even for the chance of an adult conversation with the Captain or anyone else. Not while River needed him, and that might be forever. Bitter pill to swallow, that his father had been right about that when he was so wrong about everything else. He would give everything he had left, little as that was, to have her run rings around him once again.

Round Two Master Fic List

Wed, 13 Aug 2008 23:43:04 GMT

July 29

celestineangel wrote for dragonsinger
Little Wisdom - Heroes

July 31

strangevisitor7 wrote for magisterequitum
Symmetry - Numb3rs

August 2

squeelated (thekatebeyond) wrote for prolix_allie
A New Dawn, A New Day - Battlestar Galactica

August 11

magisterequitum wrote for jlm110108
C is for Clutch -- Numb3rs
jlm110108 wrote for water_soter
On the Road Again, Chapter One -- Numb3rs
Chapter Two -- added August 19th.
Chapter Three -- added August 20th.
Chapter Four -- added August 21st.
water_soter wrote for strangevisitor7
It’s Better to Have… -- Psych

August 13

prolix_allie wrote for waywarddrifter
Patterns -- Firefly

August 18

dragonsinger wrote for lostandalone22
Warts and All -- Charmed

Psych Fic: It's Better to Have . . .

Tue, 12 Aug 2008 05:46:44 GMT

Title: It’s Better To Have . . .

Author: Water-Soter

Written For: Strangevisitor7

Fandom: Psych

Prompt: It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Archive: Please contact me.

Pairings/Main Characters: Shawn, Henry, with a healthy dose of the rest of the gang.

Genre: Angst

Series: Has Sequel

Feedback: Absolutely! I’m new at this, so please don’t burn me at the stake. Comments, suggestions and constructive criticism are always welcomed.

Rating/Warning: Rated M, some disturbing imagery.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the Psych characters. I just love to torture them.

Word Count: 1,255

Summary: Shawn deals with the aftermath of his mom's revelation about his dad, or not.

Author’s Notes: This story was written for the 2008 Family Haven Ficathon. This is not a death-fic. It has a sequel that will be posted on my LJ this weekend. All that has been written is a result of careful observation of the characters and coming to a few conclusions. This takes place after the season 3 premier so it contains spoilers for it. I want to thank SciFi Lemon for the hand holding, Grey for helping me come up and develop this idea and cracking with whip, the guys over at little_details for the medical info and some of the crazy ideas for this fic, and last but not least, Val for the fast/last minute beta and support. You guys are awesome. All the mistakes are mine. Hope you guys enjoy.

Shawn was so counting this day among his top five worst. Probably coming in number two, since nothing could top the day his dad put him in jail. Though, this one came pretty close. It was the play of the not-quite smiles all throughout dinner. First his dad would look at his mom and smile, then his mom would give a watery version of her own – her eyes still red and puffy even though it’d been hours since she’d been crying. Then she would look over at Shawn and he, the dutiful son, would bestow her with his most reassuring smile. After a moment, it would start all over again, like Groundhog Day only Shawn didn’t get the girl in the end.

The food tasted like mud, although Shawn’d had mud much tastier than this. He forced the expensive wine, the expensive whatever he had ordered for an entree and then the dessert his mom insisted he have down his throat, pretending it was the best – and what had he ordered anyway – he’d ever had. His dad had tried to start a conversation more than once, but even he had given up after a while.

Shawn wanted nothing more than to go home, go to Psych, the station, just about anywhere that wasn’t sitting with his parents at the movies, then at the restaurant they insisted they go to afterwards. If there was a hell, he was in it.

The worst part of it all was that this wouldn’t had been half as bad if his mom hadn’t dropped a bombshell hours before. He hadn’t been able to look his dad in the eye the entire time, had barely managed to having his mom hold his hand at the movies. These two people, who had been the linchpin of his life, and he really didn’t have a clue who they were. Worst still was that he’d always thought he had up until now.

“Are you full, sweetie?” his mother said, her hand covering his.

“I’m fine, Mom.” he said, trying not to grimace at the sugary thing that they had the audacity to call dessert. He kept poking at it, hoping that by some divine act, it might turn into something edible. His dad kept shooting him strange looks throughout the meal then exchanging looks with his mom. It grated on his very last nerve.

“Maybe I should get the check,” his dad said with that resigned tone of his and Shawn wanted to get up and cheer. While his dad did his thing, Shawn let his eyes wander around the room. He’d done it when they’d first come in, a habit as ingrained as his wonderful sense of humor.

Shawn saw their waiter descend on them like a bird of prey, handing over the typical black holder all with one crisp move. It seemed the norm that the more expensive the restaurant, the more snobbish the staff. His mom started to grab her bag, but his dad beat her to it. “I got it.”

Shawn kept glancing surreptitiously at his wrist watch. He was counting the minutes until the waiter would come back with their receipt and he could get out of here. He didn’t want to deal with his dad and mom right now.

There was a tension between them that had been simmering since the station and that had turned into full blown could-be-cut-with-a-knife tension.

“So, goose, tell me about your job. We haven’t had a chance to really talk.” Shawn caught the tail-end of a wince from his dad.

Yeah, because dad here has been sucking up all your time, he thought.

Out loud, he said, “Gus and I are partners,” He started, playing around with his ‘dessert’. “Most of our cases come from the SBPD, but we’ve been getting more walk-ins since word’s been getting out.”

And the media attention they’d been getting hadn’t hurt either. He thought to himself.

“And you tell people you’re psychic?”

Shawn took a long haul of his drink, his throat suddenly unbearably dry. There was no reproach in her tone, but Shawn found himself getting defensive. He looked over at his dad but he was busy signing the receipt, head down and as unreadable as Shawn had ever seen him. Whatever.

“Well, that’s kinda a long story.”

His mom waited, watching him, and Shawn willed his dad to sign the receipt faster. “I’m all ears,” she said with a pointed look.

Wasn’t that one of the famous last words?

His dad, taking mercy on him, stood up. “Well, what do you two say we head over to my place for a nightcap?”

Why, so you can drag me over hot coals? Shawn thought incredulously, looking at his dad as though he had grown two heads and a tail.

Shawn opened his mouth, though he had no idea how he was going to get out of this one without it sounding bad. His mom thankfully beat him to the punch.

“Actually, Henry, I have another session at the department in the morning and I really want to be well rested for it.” She quickly got up and grabbed her purse. Shawn followed her out, trying hard not to run.

The host opened the door for them, giving the snob-out version of ‘have a great night and I hope you enjoyed your meal and come back soon’. “That’s fine, maybe tomorrow –”

“Oh look, there’s my bike, I’ll see you guys later.”

Not!

Shawn rushed off toward his bike – that contrary to what he had just said – was nowhere in sight. He hadn’t even left it in the same parking lot, preferring street parking in case he’d had to make a quick getaway.

“Sure, I guess we’ll see you later.” He heard his dad’s awkward farewell and felt like the biggest ass on the face of the planet. With a sigh, he pulled out his keys and dialed Gus.

“What, Shawn!”

“Hey, dude, you almost sound like you’re not happy to hear from me?”

He unlocked his trunk and got on his very cool jacket Gus had given him – Shawn had charged it to Gus’s expense account a few months back – that it was made of Kevlar just added to the coolness factor.

“Do you know what time it is?”

Shawn checked his watch, a flip comment on the tip of his tongue. He saw the time and paused, “Wow, it’s really late.”

“No duh, Shawn, where are you anyway?”

“Just finished the meal from hell. My Dad showed up at the station again, and I was forced to go to a movie while Dad took a nap and then we went to the worst restaurant in the city.”

Shawn grabbed his helmet and was in the process of putting it on when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. “Hold on, Gus.”

Shawn put down his helmet, looking at the row of cars parked on the street, but nothing seemed to be out of ordinary. The street was mostly empty, only with the occasional couple walking around.

“Shawn? You better not had hung up.”

“No, still here, I just thought I saw something,” Shawn walked back to his bike.

Then he heard it, the click. When he turned, all he saw was a bright light and his ears throbbed from a loud blast. The last thing he became aware was the cool street at his back, Gus screaming from somewhere, and his dad’s face, inches from his own before it went dark.

A/N: This is not a death-fic. It has a sequel that will be posted on my LJ this weekend.