Royal Scribblings

Bonus Ficlet for Five Times Dean Didn't Go to Hell (and one time he did) - R - Pure SPN

2008-05-29T13:27:36Z

Title: Bonus Ficlet for Five Times Dean Didn't Go to Hell (and one time he did)

Authors: empressvesica

Rating: R for language

Fandom: Pure SPN

Word Count: 880

Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing the boys for a bit. We promise to put them back like we found them, only slightly worse for the wear.

Summary: Time six (or perhaps that would be 'sex') that Dean didn't go to Hell. Tie in with 1.13 – "Route 666".

Author's Note: Props to "The Simpsons" because one episode in particular totally spawned this ficlet.

She might be Hell's messenger, but from where Dean's standing she doesn't look half bad. Long, tan legs that go for miles, tousled auburn curls and a sexy little business suit – all short skirt and plunging neckline of the lacy cami under the jacket.

At least he'll go out happy.

With a slow smirk, he can't help but make light of the situation. "I'm beginning to think Hell's got some sort kink about sending hot chicks to try and kill me."

"If that's why I was here, who says I'd have to try?" She smiles, but it isn't a warm expression in the least. "Nice to know you think this flesh suit is hot though…"

Sam shifts from foot to foot, uncomfortable with this whole thing but mostly with Dean's cavalier attitude about going to Hell. He glares at Dean but his brother isn't paying a bit of attention to him.

"Well, it was before you called it a 'flesh suit'," Dean says with a slight shudder. "Let's just get on with this, Demon. Take me al-fuckin'-ready."

"Not a patient one, are we?" she asked with a smirk of her own that can only be called devilish, setting her briefcase down on the trunk of the Impala and flicking the latches open. She pulls out a folder and flips it open. "I'm not here to take you - I can't. Hell can't."

He doesn't have a smartass reply to that one. "What?"

She leafs through the pages, one long, blood red nail tracing lines here and there until she finds the one she's looking for. "Seems your soul wasn't yours to give. Pretty tricky of you, Winchester."

This isn't making any sense to either of the boys, but it's Sam who asks. "What's she talking about, Dean?"

"Not a damned clue."

Her smirk gets wider, crueler, and she's obviously enjoying this. "The name Cassie Robinson ring a bell?"

Dean drops his head, covering his face with his hand. "Oh fuck. Tell me you're kidding…"

"Hell has no sense of humor, Deano; we don't kid."

"Cassie?" Sam asks, looking at his brother. "Wait! THAT Cassie? What about her?"

The demon starts reading from the file, her tone flat only making the words that much more embarrassing. "And I quote, 'You're mine, Dean Winchester, so don't go getting any ideas about running off with some other girl.'

'You know I won't, baby.'"

She's doing a disturbingly good imitation of both their voices and Dean sort of wishes Hell were still an option.

'Because you looooove me.' He can feel his facing growing hot at the teasing, singsong tone. Please don't let her keep reading.

'I'm all yours, babe – heart, soul, and body - though I’d be happy to provide some more proof of that last one….'

'Damn, I'm still trying to regain use of my legs from the last time, sugarbuns'. The demon does Cassie's sleepy, sultry giggle to perfection and Dean swears he hears Sam stifle a snicker.

The demon snaps the file shut, drumming her nails against the stiff paper. "This Cassie girl owns your soul. You gave it to her – pure and simple. No ownership of own soul equals no selling said soul."

"If he didn't really sell his soul, why am I still alive?" Sam asks, rather worried.

"They never read the fine print. It clearly states that if we don't claim the soul within the active period, the twelve months, we forfeit all claims. We were ready to yank it at the start of month eleven. Tried to, actually, and when it didn't work – we discovered this little bombshell.

"Like I said, pretty tricky for a so-called good guy." She tosses the folder in and closes the briefcase lid with a thump. "So, that's that. I'll just be on my way now. Fool us once, Dean Winchester…"

Sam doesn't need her to finish the thought. "Shame on you. Fool you twice…"

She gives the boys one last once over. "There isn't going to be a twice."

Dean's too busy dying of embarrassment to even enjoy watching her go – well, to really enjoy watching her go.

"So…" Sam clears his throat loudly. "Sugarbuns?"

"Shut it!" Dean throws open the car door, slides in, and shuts it with a "don't even go there" slam.

But Sam's not getting in – just leaning down to look at Dean – grinning like an idiot.

"I swear to God, Sam, if you don't wipe that fucking smile off your face and get in the damned car, I'll leave your ass out here."

Sam flops down into his seat, but the smile stays at 100 watts. "Whatever, Dean. But you'd better stop calling me the girly one. That's was, like, Lifetime Movie Network level sappy."

Dean can hear the teasing in Sam's voice and can't really stay mad. His usual smirk returns, "Yeah, maybe it was. But I'm telling you, what came before and after – wasn't anything from a damned chick flick. More like that one scene in 'Heavy Petter and the Golden Snatch'. You know which one I mean…"

Now it's Sam's turn to blush. "I totally wasn't watching that. I told you – I was flipping channels and just happened to stop there right when you walked in."

"Uh, yeah. Whatever you say, Sammy."

END.

Five Times Dean Didn't Go to Hell (and one time he did) - SPN - Co-write with Wildecate

2008-05-29T13:24:29Z

Title: Five Times Dean Didn't Go to Hell (and one time he did)

Authors: wildecate_alt & empressvesica

Rating: PG-13

Fandom: Pure SPN

Disclaimer: Not ours. Just borrowing the boys for a bit. We promise to put them back like we found them, only slightly worse for the wear.

Summary: The title's pretty self-explanatory, but in case it's not – Five ways Dean might get out of his deal and what might happen if he doesn't.

Authors' Note: We often joke about sharing a braincell which would neatly explain why things sent to each other for beta so often become writing tags. Also, it will be amusing to see if those of you familiar with either of our writing styles can suss out which bits were penned by which of us.

( Five Times Dean Didn't Go to Hell (and one time he did) )

Fanart for still_grrr Challenge 065 - Mothers

2008-05-13T01:34:52Z

Title: Break Free, Petaline
Author: Vesica
Rating: G
still_grrr Prompt: 065 - Mothers
Characters: Petaline

Author's Note: This turned out to be the perfect storm of Petaline's character, Asian symbolism and the reality of how lotus flowers bloom.

(Click for Larger Picture)

The faded text reads:

"Buried deep in the muck
and darkness, the lotus
sprout bursts free of the
seed and presses
ever upwards,
through mud and murk
to break the surface and
open its newborn face to
the gentle light of morning,
closing tight and hiding
away from the searing scorch
of the day, peeking from
behind pale pink petals
again as the cool of evening
descends and the world
moves once more towards
the natal darkness from
which the lotus sprung."

Orange Blossom Queen - BtVS - PG - Kate Lockley

2008-05-09T03:30:24Z

Title: Orange Blossom Queen
Author: Vesica
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1, 816
still_grrr Prompt: 064 – Faith, Kate, Zoe
Characters: Kate
A/N: Sort of surprised I ended up writing Kate for this…Even more surprised at where Kate wanted to go with this.

As soon as the doors slid open, the humidity hit her like a wet washcloth to the face – which meant it was a normal spring day in Bartow, Florida. Kate could already feel her hair sticking to back of her neck and her suit was felt as heavy as a parka in the sweltering heat. I should have just worn a sundress. Sure, I'd have frozen in the air conditioning, but it's not like this little dog and pony show took that long.

She'd feel better once she got some air moving around her. She shucked the jacket once she got to the car and dropped the top on her Sebring, a happy sigh escaping her at the man-made breeze as she pulled out of the lot. It wasn't a particularly exciting drive back to Frostproof but it was a pretty drive.

Polk County was sleepy farm country, Bartow being the county seat, and a far cry from L.A. Two years ago, she'd slept off the last of the sleeping pills and woken up, really woken up for the first time in a long time, and taken stock of her life. She'd stayed in L.A. for her father, for her work, but never because she loved the city. Without both of her anchors torn out from beneath her and her pride still stinging from her white-knight rescue, she'd looked around her condo and realized she hated it all.

She hated the dingy beige linoleum in the kitchen and the way the first morning sun always hit her right in the face. She hated the tiny master bedroom closet and the fact the elevator broke once a month, leaving her to climb five flights of stairs. More than that, she hated L.A. – hated the dirt and the noise and darkness.

She hated the darkness most of all. One week, she'd thought the worst thing that came out at night were drug dealers, street gangs, and hookers with heartbreakingly empty stares.

And then – it all changed.

You'd think I'd be happier knowing the truth, but no…sometimes ignorance really is bliss. If she'd had any idea the price of the truth, she'd have taken one look at Angel and run. She'd lost everything – her father, her job, her confidence, and the thing that hurt most, her innocence. Even now, the thought that she'd had any innocence left after seven years of working her way up to detective made her laugh.

Still chuckling, she twisted the wheel and turned onto the first of many back roads. It wasn't the quickest way home, but she'd found a path that wove through the orange groves. It was the orange groves and gently rolling hills of this part of Florida that had seduced her. There was no other word for it.

After her little epiphany, she'd decided a vacation was in order, her first in four years. She wasn't sure why she'd decided on Orlando, but something about the overly cheery Disney commercials with their beaming families held a perverse fascination. For the first few days, she'd been a typical tourist – at the parks when they opened and wearily trudging to her rental only when the gates closed.

Then one morning, she just couldn't face the crowds and acres of concrete. The hotel had a few brochures for things outside of Orlando – the Citrus Tower and Bok Tower Gardens being foremost among the offerings. She'd gotten turned around at one point out in the wilds of the countryside, but even after she realized she was heading south, away from Orlando, she'd just kept going. It was late spring and when she'd stopped for gas, the air was thick with the smell of orange blossoms.

It was dumb luck that she saw a sign for an open house. Without really knowing why, she'd followed a breadcrumb trail of arrow-shaped signs away from the main road and into the groves. The house was nothing incredible – a smaller house in the old Florida style – but it was surrounded by groves on three sides. She'd skirted the path leading to the front door and walked into the groves instead, drinking in the pervasive but still delicate sweetness of the blooms.

She was bent over, pushing aside the glossy green leaves of one tree to peek at the tiny, hard buds that would swell into oranges, when a soft voice startled her.

"Be a while before those are good for much of anything, but they'll get there." A tall man with an almost handsome, if somewhat sun-weathered, face stood, arms crossed over his faded blue polo shirt, calmly watching her. He gestured at her hair and nodded, tiny smile playing on his lips. "I like that. Looks good on you."

She'd reached up, flustered, and her hurried fingers knocked the orange blossom she didn't remember tucking into her hair loose. He'd retrieved it with a laugh, reaching up to tuck it behind her ear. "Just as pretty as the Orange Blossom Queen."

"The what?"

"The who – Orange Blossom Queen – crowned every year at the Citrus Festival. Lucky for this year's winner you got here two weeks too late."

His casual familiarity bothered her and she hurried to find words to fill the silence. "I'm sorry. Am I trespassing? I mean, is this your grove?"

"Nah, this is a Ben Hill Grove. I just keep an eye on it."

"So, you're an orange grower?"

He'd smiled. "As much as any of us around here are anymore. Big companies hold the deeds, but we work the groves and sell the crop back to them. Tough going for individual growers these days, though joining up with the big boys isnt' much easier. Sort of tough way to make a living, but I like it."

"Oh." She was still trying to process his nutshell summary of the way of the world around these parts, but he pressed on.

"More importantly, I'm also a realtor." He held out his hand. "I'm Tim. I assume you came about the house? Wasn't really expecting anyone to come out today. Hoping – but not expecting."

Two hours later, she'd gotten back into her rental, his card in her pocket and a packet of papers constituting her initial bid on the house.

After that, things had just fallen into place – the move, settling into the house, and even getting a job. Most of the cities in Polk County were too small to have their own police force, making do with a local office of the county sheriff. She lasted three weeks rattling around in her new house before she started to feel a little stir crazy. On a whim, she'd stopped by the Frostproof office and asked if they were hiring. She missed being part of something, missed doing something important.

The sheriff looked like he came straight out of the screen from an episode of Dukes of Hazzard, a big guy with an even bigger gut and a drawl like warm honey. He didn't much care why she'd left L.A. and assumed she'd gotten burned out on the constant parade of crimes in a big city like that. She didn't bother to correct him and provided the only reference she could think of that might speak well of her, a friend of her dad's. He must have made her out to be some cross between Wonder Woman, Jessica Fletcher, and Cagney and Lacey because she had an offer, with a hefty signing bonus, within a week.

It was a different pace than she was used to and in such small offices, the deputy sheriffs all did a little of everything. In her first month, she'd tracked down cattle rustlers (after her partner managed to convince her there were still cattle rustlers), broken up three bar fights and investigated a possible meth lab explosion. In her two years here, there had only been two murders. And even that was two too many…

She pulled into her driveway, pausing to put the top up before pulling into the carport.

She grabbed her jacket and grabbed the plaque underneath.

Deputy Kate Lockley
In Recognition of her Outstanding Heroism and Dedication to Her Community

Heroism – yeah right. Her first year was a bad one for hurricanes, three storms ripping through the heart of Florida in two months. During the third storm, she and two other deputies had gotten the call that the roof had failed at a local shelter. Battling howling wind and pea-sized hail, they'd gotten everyone safely moved to a nearby church before the wind won the battle and one of the walls of the school collapsed.

It was funny – at the time she hadn't been scared at all, just focused on the task at hand. After everyone was moved and they were doing a second headcount – just to check – the nausea had hit. She ran for the bathroom, falling to her knees and retching until she was sure nothing was left in her.

Heroism was facing your fears.

With a shake of her head, she wedged the plaque between two thick tomes on her bookshelf.

She padded down the hall to her bedroom, the easy happiness of a long drive on a beautiful Florida day gone. Slipping out of her suit, she caught a glint of silver in the mirror on her dresser.

Her fingers closed around the cold metal resting against her chest.

She never took off the silver cross. She wore it beneath her uniform, slept in it, showered in it.

With a scowl, she turned her back on the mirror.

No, she was no hero. She'd run as far from L.A. as she could get without falling into the ocean but…even though the only thing that stalked the nights here were bobcats and tiny Florida deer, drawn to the tender plants in her flowerbed…even though she'd never seen so much as a hint of anything supernatural around these parts…she was still scared.

Some hero.

She slipped into a pair of jeans and well worn t-shirt, turning on every light as she made her way to the kitchen, though it was barely dusk outside.

Tim would be home in two hours.

Tim - orange grower, realtor, former next door neighbor (though the words still felt odd on her tongue when 'next door' was a mile and half up the road) and all-around decent guy.

Tim the live-in boyfriend, the one who didn't ask too many questions, and had learned how to stroke her back when she woke up crying, barely waking up himself as he tried to gentle away her fears.

Tim who never looked up at the full moon with a worried frown, who laughed at the wiccan wanna-bes who frequented a camp up the road, and who never wondered what might be watching him from the shadows.

Such innocence was a kind of heroism too, she thought.

The kind she wished she still had.

END.

Drabble for open_on_sunday

2008-05-07T16:52:14Z

Title: The Me Inside
Author: Vesica
Rating: PG
open_on_sunday Prompt: 267 - Force
Word Count: 100
Characters: Faith/Giles
Set: Post Series
Disclaimer: Just a bit of mucking about in other people’s sandboxes
Author's Note: Do we ever really grow out of this or is that younger us always there inside, putting on a brave face and hoping no one sees through the lie?

Slayer. Warrior. Force of Nature.

But right now, unsaid words pricking her tongue, she's just a girl – too pretty for the weirdos, too weird for the pretty kids; early bloomer with a chest twice as big as her ability to deal with the leers; who barely remembers home before the parade of booze and men.

Her fear sour in the back of her mouth, she can't see.

That right now he's just a boy – awkward in a uniform too large; eyes too old for his face; who cries at night, ashamed how badly he wants to run from his destiny.

END.

dial tone

2008-05-07T01:48:41Z

I'm sorry, the Empress you've dialed is temporarily incapacitated. Please hang up and try your call again later.

This fic just broke me. I don't know what to say without this turning into a giant overshare, but YES! This is just what it's like sometimes. Sex can (and frequently should) be - all wonderous and scary and sacred and timeless and reverent.

Go read. I have to go cry some more. Yes, I'm serious. I just - I'd forgotten how deeply I felt that it should be like this and now there's this whole jumble-tumble of memories of when it was...Just go read.

three o'clock dandelion time
By oxoniensis
[Supernatural, Sam/OFC, adult, 1,634 words, pre-series.]

(side note: there should be something more than fic recs posted here soon. My Muse is pulling a Lady Lazarus - thank goodness.)

Just some lovely Fic Recs

2008-03-18T03:40:26Z

Do any of you actually read these? I'm paranoid sometimes and go look if anyone I recognize commented after me…because comments are love and all…and I'd hate any of my flist to be bad mannered enough to read and not say something…so I assume no one reads these…and yeah. I'll shut up now.

Ves' #1 OMG, Drop Everything and Go Read this Rec:

Third Wheel Keeps It Upright (1/3) - R – Supernatural/My So Called Life
SUMMARY (and I quote): There's this guy, right? And he's got this car. You HAVE to see them. Like... together, or whatever.

(YES! My SO CALLED LIFE! Rayanne/Dean. Seriously – you don't have to know diddly about SPN to adore how perfect the Angela voice is in this. Also, I miss My So Called Life. It was one of those shows that was on at just the right time in my life…Also – Jordan Catalano. Seriously.)

* mynuet wrote a darling Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day ficlet over HERE.

(It's sweet and totally spot on for these characters plus it makes imaginary Ciaran Hinds run around in my brain which is always fabulous. Also – you should all go see this movie immediately.)

* Lovely, Dark, and Deep - Pg-13 – Faith/Giles by sahiya

(The title perfectly sums up this fic. Wonderful glimpse at these two and a take I've never quite seen before. This fic made me look at this pairing in a new way and those of you that know me know that's saying something.)

* Gifts from Charing Cross Road Part 1 and Part 2 - Fantastic Gen Faith and Giles fic by tessarin

(tessarin gets extra points for not telling me to get bent when I got all frothy about offering to beta and then wibbling that I was being a jerk. Also – if you love this one (which you will), it's nominated over at this round of Bodice Ripper Awards so maybe you should vote once voting opens. And yeah, some of my stuff might be nom'ed over there too…You know, while you're there.)

And now a few from picfor1000. I am trying to be a better ficcer – not just in my writing but in balancing that with some community participation when I can. Writing is one thing but I think it's important to read and review. And WOW am I glad I did. Some real gems, in some really unusual fandoms, here.

Ves' #1 Must Read:
* Interpreted Languages by thedeadparrot- PG - Heroes/Stargate Atlantis (Micah-centric)

(If you know both fandoms, just think about that one for a minute. Now wonder why no one had thought of this yet and, if you write, spend a moment berating yourself that YOU didn't realize how AWESOME sending Micah to Atlantis would be. Now go read. *shoos*)

* Clear View - Gen Nero Wolfe fic

(If you know Nero Wolfe and read fic, you've already clicked the link since finding any Nero Wolfe fic, let alone GREAT fic, is like finding a diamond in your morning cornflakes.)

* Paved with Good Intentions - Constantine (the movie)/Supernatural

(Spoilers through 3x11 – Mystery Spot. Which yeah – should give you a damned good idea where this one is going. I'm now extremely miffed we will never get this on-show because it would be f'in awesome.)

* Family Share Plan - PG-13 – Supernatural/X-men

(Yeah, so Rogue's absorby power. What if the little bit of folks started talking to each other? Seriously – just go read.)

* How to Succeed At Exhibitionism without Really Trying - R – Torchwood – Jack/Ianto

(Yes, she reads slash. This one had me at the title – but it didn't disappoint from there. Because, really, who didn't know that Jack's totally kind of evil?)

* Road Work - PG – Sam and Dean

(Note that "and". Yeah, I'm looking at you SPN-fandom. Enough with the incest already. Fics like this, on the other hand, remind me why I bother to click random links. Funny and pitch perfect voices for the boyos.)

How Do You Solve a Problem Like Andrew? 17-20/??

2008-03-10T00:05:08Z

Title: How Do You Solve a Problem Like Andrew?
Author: Vesica
Rating: PG
Fandoms: BtVS/SGA/SG-1
Word Count: 200 per chapter
Disclaimer: Just a bit of mucking about in other people's sandboxes. None of these characters are mine – lucky for them!
Dedication: To jedibuttercup on the occasion of her birthday and for all her hard work and dedication in Mod'ing TtHDrabbles.
Summary: Why you send him off, along with Faith, to represent the Council's interests in the Pegasus Galaxy of course! A very silly series of double drabbles written for TtH Drabbles and more than a few FFA pairings. Crosses with SG-1 and SGA.

~Jump to Part I~

tthdrabbles Challenge: #056 - Proverbs

Col. Caldwell had Faith doing drills with the rest of the Daedelus personnel which meant she wouldn’t be back for at least a few hours. All the time Andrew needed

What was that proverb? Something about a stitch in time?

He couldn’t remember, but if it had to do with stitching it was probably pretty applicable. He smiled and snapped the thread with his teeth.

His Gran had always winced when he did that, but they hadn’t let him bring scissors onboard. He was lucky to have been able to borrow a sewing kit off one of the crew.

Andrew softly hummed, a folk song she’d sung during their lessons, and carefully rethreaded the needle.

Faith was thirty minutes late for the briefing, stomping into the room with a scowl, daring anyone to comment.

Caldwell ignored the glare and went right ahead. “Faith, so nice you could join us. Are we expecting a flood?” he asked with a glance at her ankles, left bare by the pants legs coming only to mid-calf.

Faith sank into a chair mumbling, “No, sir. Just an isolated shit storm.”

Caldwell ignored that too – he was getting quite good at ignoring things – and continued on.

END PART.

tthdrabbles Challenge: #054 – Seven Virtues

Faith was dead asleep when her door chimed and two obscenely chipper members of the crew bounced into her room.

“Up and at ‘em, sleepyhead! We’ve got a busy day,” the young woman chirped.

“Excuse you?” Faith growled, trying to hide her head under her pillow. It did no good though, as the young man turned the lights in her room to full blast.

He smiled and dangled a sytrofoam cup in front of her. She could smell the rich scent of coffee but when she reached for it, he pulled back. “This will be waiting. Bye!”

She pulled on the first clothes she found and was unsurprised to find Andrew leaning in his doorway, watching her. “What the hell did you do?”

“They needed some help cleaning the cargo bay – everything has to be moved. With your Slayer strength and all…”

Faith’s eyes narrowed. “I hate you.”

“Charity is a virtue, Faith. You’d better get going.”

“Wait - while you do what?”

Andrew held up a large stack of books. “I have a busy day of very important research and a few of those jello parfaits.”

Faith waited until he disappeared around the corner. “That’s what you think, buddy.”

END PART.

tthdrabbles Challenge: #059 - Oops

"Get them in my office – NOW!" Col. Caldwell snapped, stalking to his office to wait for the little delinquents to report.

They slunk in, looking superficially contrite, but more like kids being sent to the principal's office.

Andrew put on his “Watcher” voice. "Sir, I think this all just got out of hand and-"

"Sit."

They sat.

"My infirmary is filled with people you've injured running around the halls. I have a stack of complaints from women about the shower incident. All the jello has vanished from the commissary supplies and, you may have noticed, I and half my staff are bright green."

Andrew slowly reddened, offering an "Oops?" while Faith stifled a snicker. "That was all McGyver over here – tapped into the wrong water supply pipes."

Caldwell suppressed the urge to strangle them both. "I don't care who it was. You are both confined to your quarters for the remainder of the trip to Atlantis. Your meals will be brought to you.

"You are not to speak to each other, any member of the crew, or even to yourselves. Do I make myself clear?"

Faith raised her hand. "What about conjugal visits?"

"GET OUT!"

"I'll take that as a 'Maybe'."

END PART.

tthdrabbles Challenge: #068 – Giving Thanks

"Dr. Weir, this is Col. Caldwell. We are in orbit and ready to send down your guests."

Dr. Weir tapped her earpiece. "This is a surprise. We weren't expecting you until-"

She abruptly stopped as he appeared in her office with the two visitors.

"Col. Caldwell, nice to see you again. Ms. Lehane, Mr. Wells – welcome."

They both looked so much younger than she was expecting – the boy in particular – but if everything the SGC said was true, they were very lucky to have them.

Caldwell nodded curtly. "Well, here you go. We are just going to restock some supplies and then we'll be off."

Dr. Weir frowned. "I thought you were planning some furlough time here in Pegasus."

"We had talked about it," Caldwell answered, not quite looking her in the eye, "but the whole crew unanimously voted to head back. Can your people be ready within the hour?"

"Well, I suppose they can be, but-"

"Great." Caldwell tapped his own earpiece. "Daedalus – one to beam up."

And he vanished.

The whole crew was waiting. "Are they really gone?"

Col. Caldwell smiled broadly. "They are now officially Atlantis' problem."

The crew cheered and Novak muttered, "Thank God for that."

END PART.

How Do You Solve a Problem Like Andrew? - BtVS/SG-1/SGA - Part 13-16/??

2008-03-09T23:55:01Z

Title: How Do You Solve a Problem Like Andrew? Parts 13-16
Author: Vesica
Rating: PG
Fandoms: BtVS/SGA/SG-1
Word Count: 200 per chapter
Disclaimer: Just a bit of mucking about in other people's sandboxes. None of these characters are mine – lucky for them!
Dedication: To jedibuttercup on the occasion of her birthday and for all her hard work and dedication in Mod'ing TtHDrabbles.
Summary: Why you send him off, along with Faith, to represent the Council's interests in the Pegasus Galaxy of course! A very silly series of double drabbles written for TtH Drabbles and more than a few FFA pairings. Crosses with SG-1 and SGA.

~Jump to Part I~

tthdrabbles Challenge: #058 – First Impressions

She didn't like this thing.

It wasn't a physical threat – short, delicate thing, all scrawny spindly limbs – and it hadn't actually done anything threatening.

But there was something just…wrong about that gray skin and that big head and those huge dark eyes and that blank unblinking stare. She felt trapped, like a bug in a jar, and as much as she wanted to look away, she couldn't.

"Um, Faith?" Andrew nudged the immobile Slayer with no effect, finally taking her by the arm and guiding her off the bridge. "What was that all about?"

The doors sealed behind them with a soft woosh and Faith shuddered. "That thing's creepy as hell!"

"What is? Hermiod?!" he asked, watching Faith try to shake the tension from her limbs. "He's really cool."

"He's wicked freaky."

Andrew carefully pushed down the laugh that would earn him a punch in the face. "Huh - The Dark Slayer is scared of a little gray alien. I'm sure the Council will be most interested to hear this."

Faith made a sour face. "Dude, the Council is you, Xander, Dawn, and Giles. And I'm not scared!"

"Whatever."

"Seriously – you're not gonna tell them. Right?"

Andrew didn't answer.

"Andrew?...Andrew!"

END PART.

tthdrabbles Challenge: #036 – Family Values

Faith came sprinting into the mess hall and headed straight for Dr. Novak. "I found you! Look – don't let Andrew-"

Andrew stumbled in – gasping for breath. "Don't listen…I outrank…"

"You don't outrank anyone, GeekBoy." Faith glared, tossing him a bottle of water. "Don't let Andrew have Comm Access. He'll say it's important, but he just wants an update on 'Passions'."

"That's a lie," he huffed indignantly. "It is vitally important to keep my colleagues abreast of our progress here."

Faith snickered at 'abreast' and Andrew stuck out his tongue.

Dr. Novak was confused. "Why did you come to me?"

Both Faith and Andrew looked uncomfortable. "Well…we started with Col. Caldwell and…"

With a click, everything fell into place and Dr. Novak realized – Col. Caldwell had foisted them off on the next in command, who'd sent them to the next - all the way down the line to her, head of the Science Contingent.

Well, she knew just how to handle this. "You talk to Thompson in the engine room yet?"

"Race ya!" Faith smirked – and they were off, jostling each other to be first.

Watching them go, she suddenly missed her brothers terribly.

There was nothing quite like siblings.

END PART.

tthdrabbles Challenge: #065 – Mischief Managed

Caldwell didn't know why Andrew was hanging around the bridge – they weren't even within Comm range of Atlantis yet and they were certainly too far from Earth for any messages.

But here he was anyway – peering curiously at the consoles, forgetting every two seconds he wasn't supposed to be touching anything.

Caldwell was about to tell him to go loiter somewhere else when the other one, Faith, came wandering in.

Andrew snapped to attention. "Thank you very much, Col. Caldwell. I do so appreciate you allowing me to tie up your resources, however briefly."

With a stiff nod, Andrew turned and headed for the door, ignoring the look of panic on Faith's face.

"Did he-? Did you just let him call Earth?" Faith demanded, oblivious to Andrew's frantic waving and mouthing "NO!" behind her.

Caldwell thought this was a prime example of why he had never had children and, wanting to stay well out of whatever tiff they were having now, simply shrugged and went back to reviewing the latest performance report from Daedalus' engineers.

Andrew mouthed "thanks" and popped out of sight just as Faith turned to scowl at the door.

"He's gonna be so sorry he did that."

END PART.

tthdrabbles Challenge: #069 – Gifts

Col. Caldwell wasn't quite awake yet, navigating the halls of the Daedalus by memory more than sight, so he thought at first he was still dreaming. But no -

He fumbled not to drop his coffee mug as Andrew went wandering past in neon green swimming trunks and flip-flops, a towel thrown over his shoulder.

He heard a soft snicker and turned, unsurprised to find Faith sporting a smirk.

"I hesitate to ask, but what's he doing?"

"Looking for the holodeck."

"The what?"

"Holodeck." Faith leaned back against the wall, looking utterly self-satisfied. "I told him you guys had one but it only ran a tropical beach simulation – you know, tech not quite being up to Star Trek standards just yet."

"And he believed you?"

Faith shrugged. "It's a gift. Told him it's at the back of this deck, last door on the left."

A quick mental review of the Daedalus' schematics and the resultant rush of panic brought him fully awake. "Faith, the last door on the left is – "

Faith's smirk widened to a toothy grin as the sound of high-pitched screams came echoing down the corridor.

"The women's showers. Yeah, I know. And now – so does Andrew."

END PART.

~Next Installment~

For Open_On_Sunday - Three Quickies

2008-03-06T05:14:35Z

Title: Surely You Jest
Rating: PG
open_on_sunday Prompt: 258: March
Author: Vesica
Word Count: 100
Characters: Faith &Giles *gasp*
Set: Post Series
Disclaimer: Just a bit of mucking about in other people’s sandboxes

Faith ambled into Giles’ study, annoyed to have her John Woo marathon interrupted. “Yeah?”

“Do you remember that codex I asked you to read?”

Faith shrugged, “Vaguely, bordering on not really.”

Giles sighed and made that clucking sound. “Faith, it is so rare I ask you to read anything and one would think…”

He stopped himself. “The section about March? Midnight tonight is March.”

“Where do you want me? And I’m guessing it’s not back on the couch.”

“In a word, No. Church of the Ascension on Charlotte. And Faith?”

“Yeah?”

“You might want to take a sword.”

“Excuse me?”

End Part.

Had she read past the title page of the codex?

She couldn’t have.

Enormous feline Hellspawn with two snarling lion heads was the sort of detail she’d remember.

“Might want to take a sword?” She skirted the edge of biting range, feinting when it snapped and - snicker-snack – down to one.

“Or, hey Giles – how ‘bout a rocket launcher?”

It lunged and she got the sword up just in time, blade sliding between ribs and stopping the claws coming at her face.

She looked it in the eye. “Yo, Frisky – Tell Hell not to get any bright ideas about April.”

End Part.

He didn’t look up as she came stomping in. “Successful Slaying?”

“No, gave it a ball of string and it went away. Also - nice ‘Giant Kitten of Death’ warning there, Mr. Watcher.”

“If you’d read the codex….”

“So, in like a lion...” Faith continued, ignoring the jab. “March goes out like? Let me guess - A lamb that breathes fire?”

Giles flashed a smirk that left all hers in the dust. “Right idea, wrong end.”

“You’re shitting me.”

He wasn’t, but it was amusing watching him pretend she wasn’t rubbing off on him as he bit back the laugh.

END.

But Not Forgotten - BtVS/Firefly - PG-13

2008-02-29T05:23:13Z

I've spent an hour tweaking words and another 40 minutes on title and summary. I need to just stop. So - I'm stopping.

Title: But Not Forgotten
Author: Vesica
Fandom: BtVS/Firefly
Characters: I'd rather you just read and find out...
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1000
Disclaimer: Just mucking about in other people’s sandboxes.
Written For: picfor1000 - the annual "A Picture is Worth 1000 Words" Challenge Round Six: Roll Dem Bones. Take the pic, write 1000 words. No more, no less.
Summary: She'd given up on surprises long ago, but the biggest one - about herself and letting go of regret - was still waiting.
Author's Note: The coda is not included in the word count. I had enough trouble wrestling the text itself down to 1000...

Inara tapped idly at the screen, finding nothing particularly interesting in the offers awaiting her on Dyton.

There never was on these border planets, even the larger ones, and she wondered anew what she was doing out here.

Roaming, she supposed, looking, searching for something in the black.

After Wash…No, if she was being honest, it started before that.

After floating in a sea of stars, every day a new adventure, she’d returned to find the lights of Sihnon dimmer than she remembered and the walls of House Madrassa like a prison. Everything there was predictable – lovely and elegant and numbingly perfect.

Two months and she’d started making quiet inquiries down at the docks, three more, of research and test trips, until she found the right ship.

The soft chime of a new message interrupted her thoughts

The familiar face made her smile as she tapped the still image to life.

Now this – at last – was interesting.

His message was charming – they always were – and she quickly responded.

“For two wanderers, our paths seem cross quite often,” she teased.

“That they do. Fate must be smiling on us,” he replied with a smile of his own. “I couldn’t believe my luck when I saw your schedule.

“Three days – Isn’t that dangerously close to being earth-bound for you? I know I’m horribly late with my offer. Am I too late? What time can you spare?”

“How much would you like?”

“All of it.”

It took no effort to act pleased. “Then it’s yours. We should be arriving in two days.”

“They can’t go fast enough. Until then…”

She was traveling with honest traders these days, which made for a pleasant change, and both sides were content to stay out of the other’s business.

But on the endless days between ports, she missed the rough and tumble camaraderie of Serenity. She missed…

She stubbornly pushed her melancholy thoughts aside, occupying the time until they reached Dyton with tasks undone.

They were running a little late, he was punctual, as always, and she barely had time to finish her preparations. Not that it mattered to him if things weren’t just so.

He loved the ritual of it all – the incense, the tea, the formal greetings, the surface pleasantries – and the familiar movements of their routine were meditative.

She set a second pot of tea to steep before taking up her samisen. The tune came forth, the movement of practiced hands requiring little thought, and gave her leisure to study him.

She wondered at first about his apparent enjoyment of her playing, so few men even pretended to be interested in the more traditional elements of Companion training, but it was but a small note at the end of a long list of wonderings about him.

The first time he’d made an offer, she’d done the first thing Companions were taught – she researched. There was note in the records, not a black mark, just a mysterious notation that he’d helped a House on Osiris with a difficult matter and declined payment in trade.

She’d been curious.

Now, after a dozen meetings, her curiosity was undiminished.

He traveled frequently, but for no trade she could discern and not government certainly, as he was no fan of the Alliance.

He was moneyed, but that went without saying.

And she’d learned by accident that his work, whatever it was, was dangerous.

Before, she’d always blown out the candles - at his request. But after Boros….

He’d been late – the only time – and as the door opened she forgot she wasn’t on Serenity; he’d looked like Mal or Jayne, returning from some caper gone wrong, disheveled and bleeding.

He’d offered a vague explanation and she hadn’t pressed – a Companion never did – just coaxed him towards a warm bath.

She’d been grateful for the training to separate feeling from manner, calmly tending his wounds, hands ghosting over the lattice of old scars as if they weren’t there.

They didn’t speak of it again, but he also never mentioned the candles again.

That night he’d started the story. It was epic – good and evil, characters so familiar but not, and always the fight to preserve Earth-That-Was.

He sat his cup aside with a soft clink and at his signal, she tucked the samisen and her memories away for later.

This part too had surprised her. It was rare for a client to see that, for Companions, sex was as much ritual as the rest, to understand the destination was not always the point. It was a pleasant surprise.

The candles were burning low before he finally asked, “Should I continue?”

She curled against him; eager for more of the tale she couldn’t stop thinking about. “Please.”

Once again, the Warrior was called to sacrifice – a new threat, new evil, and another ravening chasm.

The Warrior had already given so much, even her life, and to be asked again…

When the moment came, her mentor had made the choice for her, disappearing into the shining doorway before any could stop him.

Inara waited, breathless. “What happened to them then?”

He sighed, “I don’t know.”

But she knew.

Years of training failed to stop her tongue. “You went! Not knowing where or if it was death…”

She blinked back tears, the bravery of that depth of love twisting her gut.

He looked away and she remembered herself, quickly changing the subject the best way she knew how.

“I’m glad you know,” he admitted later, letting her hair slip through his fingers. “You know, you remind me a bit of someone from then.”

She couldn’t imagine how. “In manner?”

He laughed. “No, in appearance. Perhaps in fire – though she didn’t try to hide it.”

“You remind me of someone too.”

“In appearance?”

Her words were quick – careless. “No, in heart.”

He gallantly ignored how much three little words had said. “But it can be good, to be reminded?”

“Yes, Rupert,” she answered, letting the regret, like the candles, melt away, “It can be.”

CODA

I think, no matter where you stray,
That I shall go with you a way.
Though you may wander sweeter lands,
You will not soon forget my hands,
Nor yet the way I held my head,
Nor all the tremulous things I said.
You still will see me, small and white
And smiling, in the secret night,
And feel my arms about you when
The day comes fluttering back again.
I think, no matter where you be,
You'll hold me in your memory
And keep my image, there without me,
By telling later loves about me.

But Not Forgotten, Dorothy Parker

END.

Two Nothings I Won't Even Bother Typing Headings For...

2008-02-13T01:26:02Z

...but obviously I will bother to post here. Go fig.

A Faith/Giles Nothing
The power had been out for 30 minutes before Faith got bored of wandering from room to room and flicking the light switch to see if anything had changed.

She plopped down next to Giles on the couch and looked around.

With a shrug, she leaned over and started wrestling to get his belt undone.

Giles moved the book he was reading before she knocked it out of his hands, but was otherwise unfazed - turning to the next page as she moved on to the button of his trousers. "What are you doing?"

"Giles, you might have noticed - the power is out. What the hell else are we gonna do?"

Giles looked pointedly at the flickering candle on the table next to him, then down at his book, back to the candle, the book, the candle again and finally over at Faith.

She thought for a moment, leaned over and blew out the candle, and calmly went back to work on his trousers.

"Like I said, what the hell else are we gonna do?"

A Faith/Hairspray (2007) Nothing...
"Let us out!!" Tracy could hear Faith snicker - she must be standing right on the other side of the door.

"Nope," Faith answered. It sounded like she was laughing. "Link - why don't you tell Tracy the real reason you're with Amber?"

Link slowly turned pink as he tried to think what to say to THAT.

Tracy wasn't following, "What do you mean? He likes Amber...and Amber likes him."

"Oh she likes him, alright. Or at least she likes having all the other girls choking with envy." Faith chuckled and it just sounded almost...evil. "But honey - I ain't never seen him look at Amber the way he looks at you. More specifically your chest..and your ass. I think you've got the ocean he'd like to show some motion."

Which was inspired by this nothing...
Posted without mynuet's knowledge, because she's not as much of a drama queen as to post little fic-teasers like this...But lucky for you - I am...

"I'm good now," Faith told herself firmly. "I'm good now. I have no urges to introduce these squeaky clean nice kids to alcohol, sex, or violence. I'm good now. I don't want to kill anyone. Maybe a little maiming - no! I'm good now. No maiming. No maiming. I'm good now."

She looked up and saw the kid with the greasy hair making googly eyes at the fat girl, again. She was making googly eyes right back, and the sheer sap of the moment was almost enough to cause instant diabetes.

Faith walked past, and it was completely an accident that she shoved him face first into the girl's cleavage. Really. Because she was good now, and she totally didn't mutter, "Just fuck already and spare us all the drama," as she did so.

Things to Read on a Lazy Sunday...

2008-02-11T02:15:35Z

SPN
Born Under A Doll Sign by kellifer_fic
Summary: This time, Sam doesn't exactly see the funny side.

Doctor Who/Tin Man
Five Times The Doctor Travelled With Someone New by mhalachaiswords
Summary: Five people the Doctor talked into going on the TARDIS (in that saucy crossover way). Part I: Azkadelia

What It Is - Waitress - Jenna/Dr. Pomatter - R

2008-01-27T03:28:39Z

Title: What It Is
Author: Vesica
Rating: R
Fandom, Pairing & Prompt: Waitress, Jenna/Dr. Pomatter, rain & spring
Word Count: 301
Summary: She's not sure what she was expecting but it's good – the adulterous sex with her OB-GYN.

Author’s Notes: Written for oxoniensis's Porn Battle V – The Fifth Dimension.

A brief little dalliance in a new fandom. I had a personal challenge to write five new-to-me fandoms for this round. Didn't quite make it but I'm pleased with the four I managed. Plus, there's always next time!

She's not sure what she was expecting but it's good – the adulterous sex with her OB-GYN.

Good, nice…even pleasant.

He has a nice body – some tone but not those big freakish muscles – and he has a nice cock, nothing record breaking but a little thicker, longer than Earl and different enough to hit some new places in her.

Maybe she thought it would be like the soap operas or movie star sex – all untamed passion and hoarse moans.

But mostly the mechanics are the same old, same old – the grunts and gasps, the slap of flesh against flesh – and that's sort of disappointing.

There's a gentleness to him she wasn't expecting – little things that aren't quite the sex but sort of are. Each time it's something different – a soft caress along the curve of her spine, the quick press of teeth on her earlobe or just the kindness of him pausing to brush her hair out of her eyes.

Each time she can feel something in her go "oh", unused to pleasant surprises, but it doesn't go further than that.

It's like he's too sweet, too careful with her, his tenderness a warm spring rain fruitlessly splashing against the draught-hardened earth of her heart.

It tries, soaking a little deeper each time, making craters in the dust, but it's never quite enough to break through to the bitter core of her.

And maybe, she thinks, it's not supposed to, maybe she's a fool to expect more than some good sex and a few soft words from this man, betraying his wife even as she betrays her husband.

Maybe it's enough to know it can be like that and maybe, someday, with someone else, the mists of spring will give way to the forceful downpours of summer and she'll be made new.

END.

Cruel, Cruel Heart - Amadeus - Constanze/Salieri - NC-17

2008-01-27T03:23:02Z

Title: Cruel, Cruel Heart
Author: Vesica
Rating: NC-17
Fandom, Pairing & Prompt: Amadeus, Constanze/Salieri, temptation
Word Count: 1184
Disclaimer: Not mine - just borrowing them for a bit.</b>
Summary: It's the opportunity he's been waiting for…but everything has a price.

Author’s Notes: Written for oxoniensis's Porn Battle V – The Fifth Dimension.

I'm not sure I would have been brave enough to attempt this one if I hadn't happened to have taped "Amadeus" over the holidays. With the film fresh in my mind, this was a hoot! Seriously, people should write more period porn.

He's been expecting the fool to come crawling, hat in hand, but fate was mocking him again – sending the woman instead.

"Oh no, you must look at them now," she insists, holding out a messy sheaf of papers.

His countenance darkens at her careless slight – her assumption that the Emperor's personal composer would have no other demands on his time – but he keeps his voice neutral. "I couldn't possibly. Just leave them and I'll review them as soon as I'm able."

She looks like a child caught out, the rising flush of her cheeks plain despite her heavy powder. Eyes fixed on the floor, she confesses, "I can't".

She's hoping to leave it at that but his look makes it clear far more explanation is needed.

"Wolfie doesn't know that I took them and he'd be furious if he found out. They're originals – he never makes copies – so I can't leave them, you see."

"Originals?" he murmurs more to himself than her. Perhaps he's misjudged her – this common trifle Mozart's taken to wife. It had required a certain cunning, a almost masculine ambition, for her to have come here on her husband's behalf. "Why didn't he come himself, if he's so interested in the appointment?"

She sighs and searches for the words. "He's been so busy – working and working – on things that don't pay or to fulfill commissions long since spent. He needs this…We…We need this."

"How badly?" The question escapes his lips before he can think about it.

"Pardon?" There's a calculating look in her eye and any semblance of youthful ignorance is gone. This is no innocent maid.

He takes courage from the fact she hasn't already run from the room. "What would you do to…" he asks calmly, stopping short of actually promising anything, " to further your husband?"

She looks him right in the eye. "Anything."

"Very well." He holds out his hand for papers, setting them on his desk without even looking at them. "Lean back and lift up your skirts."

She doesn't rush to comply, considering the command before slowly leaning back against the arm of the chaise. She bends down, taking a deep breath to emphasize the fullness of her breasts straining against her tightly laced corset, and takes the bottoms of her skirts in tight fists. Her knuckles are white against the pale satin as she slowly eases up the bunched fabric. She gets as far as her stockinged knees before stopping.

"Higher," he murmurs, trying to hide the quaver in this voice.

Her breath comes a little faster and her eyes dart from him to the door and back. But she forces herself to look at him as her skirts inch higher and over the whisper-soft rustle of petticoats he thinks he hears a tiny whimper. She's breathing fast – hard, shallow breaths she has to fight for against unyielding stays and he can see her flesh jumping, pulse pounding in the hollow where shoulder and the creamy curve of her neck meet.

"A little higher…and open."

She squeezes her eyes shut, head falling to one side, as she yanks her skirts high enough to reveal her a triangle of soft curls. She bites her lip and clumsily jerks her knees apart, opening herself to him and he has to cling to the desk edge as a lance of desire weakens his knees.

But even then he can't escape the needling stab of conscience. It's not her taut thighs or the glistening pink of her cunny that has his cock straining against the front of his breeches; it’s the chance to shame his rival, to humiliate Mozart by riding his wife like a common whore until she weeps, begging him – Salieri – for release.

And he knows he cannot.

"Get out."

She looks to him, confused.

"I said, GET OUT."

He can't watch, can't bear to see her relief as she scrambles up, skirts tumbling back into place.

"Go walk in the garden and I'll come find you when I'm done. An hour, no more, I assure you."

She starts to go but stops to sink one final blade into his heart. "I….Thank you…for not…"

The door closes behind her with a bang and he fights back angry tears. So close – to giving in to temptation, to failing again.

It's not enough that he should have to live knowing how meager his talents were but to be confronted with the petty cruelty of his own desires.

Self-loathing and the perceived contempt of his God pour over him, a cold deluge purging the last shreds of desire.

END.

EV's Best of Porn Battle V

2008-01-23T00:00:31Z

Having looked at every fic on BOTH posts of the Porn Battle V, I decided to keep my own listing of favorites in addition to the link list I built for facets_of_faith. (I've been a lazy Mod of late and I was feeling guilty - thought I'd do something nice for the comm.) The "All Things Faith" listing can be found HERE.

Below is my personal list. Now I'm not going to explain why I loved these so - some were fandoms rarely written let alone porn'ed. Some were exquistely done. And some just made me laugh with delight. Read. Don't Read. But if you do read, take a second and give these folks love, eh?

* The Boy All The Bad Girls Want, House/Supernatural, Cameron/Dean, unexpected by all_you_wanted

* We Have the Technology, SGA, Rodney/FRAN, rewritten by elandrialore

* Focus, Stargate Atlantis, Sam/Radek, science by pocky_slash

* Bleed, Fairy Tales(traditional), Snow White/Wicked Queen, bleed by redcandle17

* tastes like damnation, Supernatural, Dean (solo), boredom by pesha

* Braeburn, Pushing Daisies, Ned/Olive, flour by madkrazyghetto

* Trade," Sam/Bela, NC17 by stephanometra

* kung fu training, chuck, chuck/sarah, kick by takethewords

* Wild, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Faith/Oz, wild by sparklebutch

* Only a Little Wicked, Tin Man, Cain/Azkadellia, trapped by erinya

* Second Time's the Charm, Juno, Juno/Bleeker, headband. by austen

* Any Outward Touch, Pride and Prejudice, Darcy/Elizabeth, touch by siriaeve

* Customs, Crossover, Doctor Who/Firefly, Nine/Inara, Companion by all_you_wanted

* Present Sense Impression, SG-1, Daniel/Vala, meaningful by hariboo_smirks

* Pretend, Saved by the Bell, Zack/Jessie, first time by scoob2222

And now back to my regularly scheduled life.

Choosing Not To Choose -Torchwood - Jack/Ianto - R

2008-01-22T05:24:34Z

Title: Choosing Not To Choose
Author: Vesica
Rating: R
Fandom, Pairing & Prompt: Torchwood, Jack/Ianto, fault
Word Count: 125
Author’s Notes: Written for oxoniensis's Porn Battle V – The Fifth Dimension.

Jack's the boss, used to giving orders, so Ianto's not expecting him to try and twist his mouth around the niceties of 'please' and 'thank you'.

Jack's the boss, used to calling the shots, so it's no surprise Jack always says where, says when.

Jack's the boss, all cocky attitude and wearing his mantle of authority with ease, so he knew before he knew Jack topped. Period.

But that was fine because if you never made the decisions, then it was never your fault and maybe it was better then to just be swept along, to be the one bent over, the one taken.

Or maybe it was just easier – easier to be sheep than shepherd and have to live crushing weight of your mistakes.

Waiting - BtVS - Faith/Giles - NC-17

2008-01-18T06:22:34Z

Title: Waiting
Author: Vesica
Rating: NC-17
Fandom, Pairing & Prompt: BtVS, Faith/Giles, pulse
Word Count: 1268
Summary: Waiting was boring, patience was for losers, and cravings? Come on, they never went away on their own - just made you wicked cranky if they weren't satisfied.
Warning: Exceptionally vague spoilers for Buffy Season 8.

Author’s Notes: Written for oxoniensis's Porn Battle V – The Fifth Dimension. At this point, writing Faith/Giles is like slipping into an old pair of jeans - a little shabby and worn, but in all the right places, and they just feel like home. Hopefully this doesn't feel like old territory.

Waiting was boring, patience was for losers, and cravings? Come on, they never went away on their own - just made you wicked cranky if they weren't satisfied.

Ever since London, she and Giles had been playing this wonderfully twisted, dangerous game of teasing and verbal sparring and she'd figured it was just that – a game.

After all she'd made herself clear after Gigi and when his pants had stayed on, she figured that was her answer. But now she didn't know.

The man was eight kinds of evil, tossing out one-liners that had her searching for double meanings or sometimes scrambling for a dictionary paired with these lingering looks she could never quite read.

It was frustrating – the not knowing. She wondered sometimes if he even was playing or if she was reading too much into it, the pathetic little outcast Slayer latching onto the only person she had.

She'd slip out sometimes at night, after he was asleep, and find a quiet rooftop. Keeping watch, she told herself, when really she was just trying to get through the hours 'till dawn - sucking down the smokes and shivering in the cool night air that didn't do a damned thing to edge off the searing ache of need inside.

Sure she got herself off but not as much as she used to. Was it possible to break yourself? Because she certainly knew all the moves but lately it wasn't even worth the effort. She'd be there - hand cramping, nerves skirting that line between almost there and pain, working and working but never getting closer to what she needed. Even on those rare occasions when she managed to come it didn't bring any relief – just made the aching worse.

With all the waiting and not knowing, it was no wonder she snapped.

There had been yet another monster of the week for her to slay and before she could just get it over with, Giles had to get his two cents in.

He gave the same kind of advice as always – planning and musty book knowledge versus her gut feel for the fight and when to strike – and, once again, he was teetering on the brink of telling her what to do.

You know what? Fuck that shit. She didn't take orders – not from him – and he damned well knew why.

She'd snapped that if he was so smart, he could go kill the damned thing himself. Put up or shut the fuck up. Even offered him her bag of weapons.

He failed miserably at stifling his annoyed sigh. "All I was saying…"

"Yeah, I get what you're saying. I just don't feel like listening." She tugged on her jacket and would have been out the door had he not stepped in front of her. "Whatever - looks like you're gonna need something else kill time 'till she forgives you."

She went to push past him and he reached for her arm only to think better of it. Smart move, she thought, stepping around him.

"I never said I was killing time."

It stopped her dead because in all the months of playing and teasing and talking – about the past, about the future, about themselves - she'd never heard that tone. It was a little angry, a little hurt and a lot unsure.

"Faith, you're an idiot…" She spun around, a dozen things to say to that on the tip of her tongue, but she didn't get the chance before his hands were on her shoulders (To keep her from going? To keep him from changing his mind?) and he was kissing her.

God, it was like a jolt of caffeine, like that first smoke after a transatlantic flight, like when a vamp turned to dust and you realized you'd made it – you were alive. All those nerves she'd thought stopped working were suddenly crackling, sending a hundred frantic messages to her brain.

Somewhere amid tongues and hands and little kisses – down the bridge of her nose, along his jaw, at the corner of her mouth – he amended his statement to "I'm an idiot" and mumbled something about doing this ages ago.

Not that she cared at that point. She'd gladly be an idiot if that's what it took to keeps his hands fisted in her hair, mouth crushed to hers as she canted her hips against hard bulge in his pants.

Frankly, she was thinking they were both idiots for deciding that backed up against a sideboard was a great place to do this.

It got a little blurred after that – the stumbling to the bedroom, tumbling onto the bed and groping like she hadn't..well ever. It always seemed like missing the point but now?

Crazy things that never did it for her usually were driving her wild. Now after so long with nothing every sensation was cool water soothing her parched nerves. She drank it in, gulping down the rasp of the lace of her bra harsh against her taut nipples, the rush of cool air on hot skin as she slid out of her pants, the whisper-light tickle of his breath on her thigh.

Because finally here was what she'd been needing, what every cell had been screaming for. It was wonderful and too much and like flying and drowning at the same time. Her heart was pounding, lungs fighting for air, but good or bad, it didn't matter because he was it. He was the water at the end of her desert.

Some part of her couldn't believe it was happening, finally, and so when staccato rattle of a cell phone on vibrate suddenly came from the nightstand, it was no more than she expected.

She couldn't help but look and immediately wished she hadn't. She didn't know if a kick in the gut hurt more when you weren't expecting it – life had taught her to always expect it.

She gently pushed him away from her and reached for the phone, careful not to pick up as she handed it to him. "You're gonna want to take this."

He glanced at it, long enough she knew he'd seen the display, and took it from her, tossing it to the floor. It disappeared somewhere under the bed and he reached for her. "No, I really don't. Come here."

Somewhere in the tangle of arms and legs, long after her voice had started to go hoarse, around the time she found herself reduced to nuzzling because her muscles all felt like wet noodles, she began to see the point of delayed gratification. Not that she was signing up for a lifetime membership or anything, but maybe waiting wasn't quite so boring.

She forgot all about the phone until the next morning, wouldn't have remembered it at all if she hadn't stubbed her toe on it, kicking it further out of reach, on her way back to bed.

It was still early, sun not quite peeking over the horizon, and in the half-dark she had to feel around to find where it had tumbled. She glanced at the screen as she returned it to its place on the nightstand. She couldn’t' help but smile, a soft smile that didn't feel quite right on her lips just yet, and she slid back into bed, careful not to wake him.

Because it just seemed right - that while they were busy giving in to what they'd both wanted and denied themselves - for other people and their rules, their feelings, their expectations – somewhere in the dark beneath them, three more of Buffy's calls had rolled straight to voicemail.

END.

See You Next Time - Greek - R - Cappie/Casey

2008-01-18T00:56:35Z

Title: See You Next Time
Author: Vesica
Rating: R
Fandom, Pairing & Prompt: GrΣΣk, Cappie/Casey, library
Word Count: 517
Disclaimer: Not mine - just borrowing them for a bit.</b>
Summary: Casey has a list of reasons why she and Evan are perfect together. Obviously, she forgot the list at home today.

Author’s Notes: Written for oxoniensis's Porn Battle V – The Fifth Dimension. Also, this fandom has a decidedly younger, more rambling "voice" than my usual haunts. It made for a nice change. Also, why is there so little porn for this show? Seriously…

She loves Evan - loves him loves him – in that forever kind of way.

She had to.

Why else did she still want to deck him every time she sees him – flashing that smug smile or ambling along or even just there, breathing?

Why else did it feel like she's just been kicked in the gut every time she hears him laugh?

But since she loves him…if she loves him…no, because she loves him she shouldn't mind that it takes work – the being with him or sometimes even being in the same room. That sort thing happens to couples all the time – someone messes up, they separate for a while but it all works out.

Thousands of couples, she figured, and none of them so perfect a pairing as she and Evan, must get through this sort of thing every day.

She and Evan – they just fit. They made sense.

What doesn't make sense is why, if she and Evan are so right, all she can think about right now is how if she just scoots back a little she can probably manage to wrap her legs around Cappie's waist without falling over.

Not that she'd mind - provided she managed to drag him down with her.

She wasn't expecting to find Cappie in the library - she was actually kind of surprised he even knew where it was.

She'd been so focused on finding the last book she needed for her paper she'd nearly run into him.

What did one say to a revenge lay? Thanks? Sorry, but I never said I'd call?

She'd stared – a deer caught in headlights – until he'd finally broken the awkward silence.

"Study room?"

She hadn't bothered to answer – just made a beeline for the third floor and the wall of cramped, musty, and most importantly lockable rooms.

And now here she was, biting back a moan as he pushed up her skirt.

This made no kind of sense – that lazy, slacker, burnout Cappie could make every nerve light up, make it feel like she was drowning she needed this so badly.

She wanted Evan – smart, driven, success-bound Evan who had everything going for him. Well, everything except faithfulness, fidelity, integrity...

Cappie had never…would never…and she couldn't help but remember all the almost sweet things he'd done when they were together. She remembered breakfasts in bed as she tugged off his shirt, moving onto unbuttoning his jeans thinking about the way his breath had felt against her cheek when they were falling asleep.

Neither of them had any right to be thinking clearly at that point and when his hands closed over hers, stopping her before she could finishing unbuttoning her shirt, she was didn't know what to think.

Cappie – honorable, honest, stupid Cappie – looked her right in the eye. "This time isn't about Evan, right?"

The lie came so easy she almost fooled herself and the taste of his lips washed most of the bitterness down.

Next time – she promised herself as she let herself get lost in the feel of him pressing into her. Next time it wouldn't be.

END.

Three for Open On Sunday #251

2008-01-17T05:21:21Z

All Faith/Giles because that's just the mood I was in tonight. Let's not talk about why it ended in porn...

open_on_sunday Prompt: 251: Round
Author: Vesica
Word Count: 100
Characters: Faith/Giles
Set: Post Faith's Arc in BtVS Season 8
Disclaimer: Just a bit of mucking about in other people’s sandboxes.
WARNING: Possible spoilers for details of Faith' "No Future For You" arc of Season 8 comics.

Title: A Vague Come On Is Nobody's Friend
Rating: PG-13

Giles frowned as a glass of scotch thumped down atop his open book. "Hey Mr. Tweed – let's try researching this thing called 'fun'. Drink up."

He did and nearly choked. Scotch this good wasn't in their budget. "You shouldn't have."

"I didn't." She tipped back her shot and pointed towards a glowering young man over at the billiards table. "He said loser bought the next round. Ta-da – free next round."

"I don't think this is what he meant."

"Whatever." Faith slid into his lap and brushed whiskey-wet lips across his. "Not my fault these British blokes are all so vague…"

END.

Title: Breathtaking
Rating: PG-13

Giles was sure San Salvatore meant 'contains a ridiculous number of stairs' in Italian. If it didn't, it should.

Faith was bounding up yet another set, not even winded. "You okay or do I need to come down there and carry you?"

Giles didn't rise to the bait. "Just enjoying the view."

Faith paused - sure she'd misheard.

He didn't bother to hide his contemplation of her pert, round posterior and she spluttered most amusingly, finally mumbling a weak "Fair enough".

Nice to see her thrown off-step.

Well, sort of off-step, he thought, noting the extra waggle in her step.

END.

Title: Round Table
Rating: NC-17
Author's Note: Because writing porn in 100 words and only using dialogue is fun…and I'm crazy, quite obviously.

"That was… "

"Not quite what I'd meant, Faith."

"I was just gonna say 'wow'. Besides, we have a plan."

"We do?"

"Yeah, I said I should just lop off its head – works with everything else - "

"It generally does…"

"And you said 'Good Lord, Yes'…though I was mumbling, full mouth and all, so you might not have been answering so much as…"

"Yes, well…when I suggested a round-table discussion, I was thinking of the local expert in banshees…"

"Giles – you sly dog, but no thanks - that dude was ancient!"

"Faith…"

"…and I'd say this table is kinda round…"

END.

Nice to get back on the inappropriate bandwagon there...Now for oxoniensis's Porn Battle V - The Fifth Dimension.