unlimited rice pudding, etc, etc . . .

Five Phone Calls The Doctor Never Received [Doctor Who]

2008-06-23T19:39:30Z

TITLE: Five Phone Calls The Doctor Never Received
SERIES: Doctor Who
RATING: PG-13
CHAPTERS/ONE SHOT: One-Shot
PAIRINGS: N/A
GENRE: General w/ some crossovers
PROMPT: An unexpected telephone call, written for rob_t_firefly in the Sixathon
SUMMARY: He knew buying a mobile was a mistake. Five phone calls across the years that make up the Sixth Doctor's life.

0. the beginning

It's 2008, at a political rally for Barack Obama (did you expect anything else from a California Democrat?), when Peri sees her first modern-day equivalent of a mobile. It's small and compact and practically glued to the ear of a chatty girl in her twenties wearing a neon green t-shirt that proudly exclaims "Barack & Roll" in big letters. Peri glances over at her companion (ha!) who is looking rather uncomfortable being surrounded by political groupies in an ill-fitting suit picked up on the sly. They all may have been liberal in that part of the country, but not when compared to the Doctor's own eccentric brand of 'liberal'.

Eventually they exit stage right for the TARDIS, which is hidden behind a monumental mess of placards and hand-made banners, and the Doctor is soon bombarded by Peri with questions about the phone, all leading up to the big one - and when can we buy one of those? Preferably in a nice blue tint?

And after a while, the Doctor folds and buys Peri a nice little model from some tech shop in Tokyo, cause where else are you going to buy a good phone these days?, all the while pocketing one for himself. That's when it all starts going to hell.

1. doctor in distress

He doesn't know how his mobile's number gets out, but it does, and the first call comes during a holiday in Wales. Someone mistakes him for roadside assistance and before the Doctor can correct his mistake is giving him directions to a broken-down motorbike on the side of the road, only a couple miles away from the Doctor's location. Curiouser and curiouser. Grumbling, he tells an also grumbling Peri to wait at the hotel while he sorts some business out, something chock full of "wibbley-wobbley timey-wimey" things.

The Doctor curses his own habit of helping complete strangers as he stomps through the rain and mud in his best galoshes, holding an old toolbox in his arms. Eventually he comes across where he's supposed to be, gets close enough to see the broken down motorbike with pockets of steam cascading from the gears, sees the driver, and curses some more in an ancient (and very rude) dialect of Gallifreyan. Oh, it's him. If there was a competition for smarmiest bastards on the planet, he'd take the blue ribbon every year.

"Oh, it's you." Gregory House frowns, rubs the stubble on his chin like he's considering a real dilemma. "So why are you here bothering me for? I'm not loving your choice of scenery for a social call."

"You called me," the Doctor says irritably, holding up his red and black mobile as physical proof before pocketing it again. He scowled. "Asked for roadside assistance for that piece of corrugated tin you call a motorbike. Thus the tool kit, unless you've lost a muscle in your eye as well since the last time we met."

"I must have - your sad excuse of an outfit has upgraded to a practically phosphorus level. That means really bright, in case you forgot your junior encyclopedia at home." House snorts, runs one hand through his wet hair. "So, my bike isn't going to fix itself---"

"Your bike? Your bike? Your bike?" The Doctor's face turns a particular shade of red bordering on pure scarlet. "I have no such obligations to such a pedestrian pediatrician as yourself---"

"Oh, pediatrician, good one, can't even remember I'm a diagnostician. But then memory goes with old age, as do looks---"

It is lucky that a licensed repairman happens to arrive on the scene a few minutes later, as the two men are at that point shouting at each other in close quarters, not even aware of getting completely drenched in the Welsh rainfall, close to fisticuffs.

2. frobisher, p.i.

The Doctor spends a great deal of (replaceable) money to get his mobile number removed from half of the phone books in the Milky Way. Peri doesn't understand why he scowls whenever they are in the vicinity of Plainsboro, New Jersey. Eventually, life goes on interrupted, save for the occasional alien coup on Earth and other such happenings.

She leaves for a bit to do her own thing, but that's okay. The Doctor spends those days traveling with a shape-shifting detective, and he can't get into half the places he could because they don't allow 'pets' - well, except for twenty-sixth century Sea World, they apparently take a shine to talking penguins.

And somehow Frobisher has a mobile too - being a private dick for the universe's most desperate must be busy work, after all. However, when his phone rings, the Doctor has to answer it. There's different ring tones for different callers, and apparently Frobisher really doesn't want to talk to someone whose ring tone is a polyphonic version of Chopin's Marche Funèbre.

For the second time in his lifetime, the Doctor curses that familiar unshakable habit as he and Frobisher end up walking several miles in the desert outside of Las Vegas, each lugging a heavy shovel on their back. Frobisher momentarily shifts into the form of a camel, although it is not clear if he does it for the physical advantages or to piss off a very sore and cranky Time Lord who only has two legs.

"I severely dislike both your friends and your occupation, you know that, Frobisher?"

"Third time you said so, Doc." The camel snorts hot air out of his nostrils.

"Yes, well, it's only in the marginal hopes that if I keep saying it, you'll learn something from it. Like, I don't know, make new friends."

"What are you then?" Frobisher says in response, and then there is silence, the kind of silence that usual forms between two close male friends forced into camaraderie flouncing through the desert with nothing but two shovels and a crappy GPS device.

"Ah - are we anywhere close?"

"Eh? These old camels ears can't hear---"

"I SAID, ARE WE ANYWHERE CLOSE?"

"Yup, right on top of it."

There is a lot of scrambling and arguing over who takes the first dig (which calls for Frobisher to go from camel to the familiar shape of an Antarctic bird) and they begin making a hole in the cracked, baked earth.

After five minutes, they unearth a long hollow wooden reed. Ten minutes of more digging (and a bit more scrambling), the Doctor and Frobisher are standing before a very dirty, very alive and very naked grown man, who is grinning like the proverbial cat who got the canary, even with the dusty reed jutting out of his mouth. For someone who's been buried in the middle of nowhere for several days, he has rather white and shiny teeth.

The Doctor, after a while, finally gets up the nerve to ask: "So . . . why exactly are you naked?"

After spitting the reed out in a most jaunty fashion, Captain Jack Harkness winks at the two. "That, my friends, is something best fitted for a long night in a hotel room with a case of booze and a whole lot of free time. And what a hell of a story it is."

3. roonil wazlib

It's 3 AM by the TARDIS' internal clock when the Doctor's mobile bursts to life with a digital version of "Brush Up Your Shakespeare". He gets to it before Peri in the adjoining room can be awakened by it (Frobisher has long since departed, on a case with that double decker-driving vixen the Time Lord knows all too well).

"HULLO? CAN YOU HEAR ME? I --- WANT --- TO --- TALK --- TO --- HARRY --- POTTER!"

"What--- Who is this? How'd you get---"

"THIS --- IS --- RON WEASLEY --- WHO --- ARE --- YOU?"

"I am known as the Doctor, but that's not important! Now, tell me, who gave you this number?"

Pause.

"DO --- YOU --- KNOW --- HARRY --- POTTER?"

"Now, listen here you petulant child, get it through your head that not only do I not know who this Potter chap is, you have obviously reached a wrong number and do you have any idea what time it is?" Why the hell not, he figures. Guilt is guilt, even if not based in reason.

". . . SO --- YOU --- DON'T --- KNOW---"

He hung up and spent the next hour in the library making rude comments in the margins of all his Harry Potter books, paying special attention to the epilogue in book seven.

4. ed is ed, who is who?

The fourth is less of a calling card than a real phone call. With Peri up and married to King Ycranos, winner of the loudest shriek in the galaxy award five times running, the Doctor now travels with Evelyn Smythe. She's a history professor with a love for chocolate. The Doctor is constantly reminded that despite being old enough to be most of his past companions' mothers, Miss Smythe can give as good as she gets.

It's during one of these reminders that the TARDIS gives a lurch mid-flight, the lights flicker off and on, and the microspeakers in the console start blaring bebop music - "Crazeology", Miles Davis and John Coltrane by the sound of it.

"Is this some kind of take-over attempt?" Evelyn shouts over the snare drum and trumpet.

"Probably!" the Doctor replies. "But at least they have good taste in music!"

Evelyn gives him a look equal to saying "Not the point, you thick headed git."

A polyphonic version of a random Gillbert & Sullivan song goes off, clashing harshly with the jazz coming from the console, which has now turned to "Nutty" by the Thelonious Monk Quartet. The Doctor retreats to a quiet room in the TARDIS (his bedroom, predictably) and answers the phone.

"Hello? Who is this?"

A cheerful androgynous voice answers. "Ed is Ed? Who are you? Do you like the music?" A cough. "Ooh, Ed thinks it's kinda dusty down here!"

The Doctor sputters for a moment before giving the mobile an evil glare and answers: "I am known as the Doctor and you are a very rude child. What have you done to my ship?"

"Ed hacked it! It was very easy, Ed thinks! Wanna see how I did it?"

"How would I---" The Doctor falls back several paces as he spots a thin tan arm wiggle out from under the bed. He hangs up the phone and pulls on the arm, and proceeds to fall back even further, this time onto his back. There's a girl on top of him, evident only by the feminine face and eyes. Her hair is wild and red, the same red as the spots on her cheek. Wearing a loose-fitting white tee and not-so-loose bicycle shorts, Ed doesn't look like a cyber hacker, especially not the type to hack into a TARDIS mid-light just for kicks.

"Oh --- it's you!" The Doctor pushes Ed off his chest, and sits up with a loud and pained grunt. Strains of John Coltrane and Miles Davis creep in from the console room. He wonders briefly if Evelyn is already getting irritated by the volume of so much American bebop in such a confined space, and half expects her to be coming in any second to see what the trouble's all about. (The idea that Evelyn might actually be fond of jazz, of course, never crosses the Time Lord's mind even for a second)

Ed rolls onto her haunches, then handstands onto the covers of the bed, fully revealing her bare feet on his good sheets. "Hello 'ello, Mister Six, did you miss me?" She makes a face at the Doctor before laughing it up, shaking the bed in the process.

The Doctor frowns and reaches under the bed, pulling out Ed's ragtag of a laptop. He starts to open it, but in one quick motion Ed leaps forward, grabs it from his hands, and begins using it herself. The music in the other room becomes less audible, then stops all together.

"See? Ed fixed it by herself. Ed doesn't like Mister Six touching Lappy cause last time --- hey!" She gives a yelp as the Doctor grabs her by the midsection and throws her light body over his shoulder, stomping his way back into the console room to be greeted by a clearly amused Evelyn.

The trip to Mars is long and agitating to the Time Lord, who is forced to endure Evelyn's wry comments on Edward possible being his daughter from the future and said child bouncing around the console room, occasionally rolling into other rooms, forcing the man to chase after he lest she break something with her boundless energy.

He ends up sorely regretting that holiday to South America, that's for sure.

5. the end (last call)

The last call comes as the Doctor is lurking around the console, looking for a place to hide the 'healthy' snack foods Mel has pushed onto him that day. He had never tasted tofu mixed with nuts before, and after washing out half a bar of the concoction with a shot of the strongest mouthwash he could find, the blond man knew he never would again.

When the mobile rings, he's still trying to push away the thought of future sessions with the torture device Mel calls an exercise bike. She's a good girl, really, he thinks, but he doesn't know how much of this 'fitness' stuff he can take for long. As long as she never discovers the crumpled bag of jelly babies in his left pocket, though, he should be safe from going completely catatonic.

The Doctor answers his mobile, and immediately his ears are filled to the brim with a panicked, shrill voice. It's female and it doesn't sound like she's stopping for breath any time soon.

"Janine? Mom? Is that you? . . . (at this point, the Doctor realizes the call isn't for him, he's intruding on someone else's line, someone he knows very well) Oh God, I heard the worst news. I-It's the Doctor . . . yes, the guy who took me out of Lanzarote, Mom, just listen, for God's sake . . . Mom, he's dead, they killed him, somewhere called Lakertya, in mid-flight . . . I've already explained how it works, you don't understand, he's dead, my Doctor's dead---"

There is no more of Peri's voice coming from the phone, as it drops and breaks on the console floor. He never hears Peri cry over the space of many light-years to her mother in California of the time they spent together, the adventures they shared, God, how much she loved him, like no one else before him.

Mel walks in to see a pale-faced Doctor brush up bits of electronics from the floor and dispose of them in a rubbish bin in another room. He re-enters the console room a bit under the weather but calm, and when Mel asks him if he'll go work out with her in the exercise room sometime soon, she's surprised to hear him agree.

"Time I got into shape, isn't it?" the Doctor agrees, patting his sides chidingly, his fingers quivering ever so slightly. He comes around the controls and squeezes Mel on the shoulder. "Now, how about that vacation I promised you, hmm? I was thinking Blackp---"

The console room shakes and echoes with the sound of blaster fire bombarding wood. They rocked back and forth, attempting to grab onto one of the panels or at least the unmoveable hat stand. It takes him a second to check the scanner, to see the planet the combination of lasers and tractor beam is pulling them towards. Lakertya. He's already dead. He's breathing raggedly and darting around trying to put the TARDIS to right. He sees Mel cowering as she clings to the console with all of her might. Sweet child, he can't help but think, poor thing. Their eyes lock, and the Doctor smiles. He smiles like he means it. And then he makes his move. After all, he thinks, we can't cause a time anomaly because of stubborn old me, can we? Oh, that wouldn't be becoming of a Time Lord of my stature.

With great force, he falls onto the edge of the console, and everything switches from bright lights and flashing sirens to a quiet, calming darkness. Finally, his work is done.

In The Highways [Doctor Who]

2008-06-08T16:29:45Z

TITLE: In The Highways
SERIES: Doctor Who
RATING: PG
CHAPTERS/ONE SHOT: One-Shot
PAIRINGS: Implied Jenny/Martha, Jenny/Donna, Jenny/Jack
GENRE: Crack
SUMMARY: Jenny's very curious for someone only a few weeks old. God forbid her and the information highway ever meet in person. Spoilers for very end of 'Forest of the Dead' and 'The Doctor's Daughter'.

Jenny is very new to this thing called technology. Even more so with the Internet. A combination of the Doctor's know-how and Jenny's natural curiosity (the curiosity of a child, only a few weeks old) doesn't bode well for the rest of the universe. When Jenny's ramshackle little spaceship passes by a galaxy, said galaxy breathes a collective sigh of relief (then says thank you when she shows up and saves them all).

Anyhow, the Internet. She's not allowed to use it anymore. By orders of the boys back at home, who are very busy planting crops and building new cities to actually visit Jenny but they do send holo-mails now and then to check up on the Time Lady (in training, of course, it's a slowly earned title, now it has no academy for her to graduate from properly).

See, the thing about Jenny - sweet Jenny, energetic Jenny, the one with the gun but never kills, that Jenny - is that her fingers are like minature sonic screwdrivers. Touch something and it opens up completely to her, reveals their innermost machinations. Jenny knows it; she takes advantage of it freely. A gift to the heir apparent, she thinks. She likes it. So do the boys back home. (And Martha. And Donna. And Captain Jack - especially Captain Jack).

So imagine those fingers working on the Internet, touching that massive system of connections that span across the world. She's liable to come across something, right? Maybe files on her genetic father? Torchwood security seems to be lax these days, as with UNIT. Jenny plans to meet this 'Lethbridge-Stewart' man one day, ask him questions, listen to his stories of working with the Doctor. But not now; she's too busy running and touching everything in sight.

Then there's all the people, all using the Internet. Jenny wants to talk to them all, listen to them, help them somehow. It's what her father would want, after all - for her to save people. Only her Internet just doesn't reach Earth, oh no. In her little space pod, she's got a map of the universe in her modem, all laid out in zeros and ones. And one way or another, they all know the Doctor. They're perfectly harmless, living their lives in peace and normalcy. Some deal with aliens now, others do private detective work. One lad even has a rock band. Jenny doesn't think much of their 'music', but they've got heart, she'll give them that. It's when Jenny starts talking to these people that things get out of hand and the boys from home end up finally leaving their lush new world to clean up one of Jenny's messes.

Yes, Jenny isn't allowed to use the Internet. Last time she did, she ended up playing several rounds of intergalactic Hearts with River Song and her two children.

And He Did [Doctor Who]

2008-06-04T01:47:30Z

TITLE: And He Did
SERIES: Doctor Who
RATING: PG
CHAPTERS/ONE SHOT: One-Shot
PAIRINGS: Rose/Nine
GENRE: Romance/Angst/AU
SUMMARY: Rose looked into the vortex. And the vortex looked back. AU for 'Parting Of The Ways'.

She did it for him. Risked life and limb and her relationships with both her ex-boyfriend and her mum, and it was worth it. She looked into the vortex, the heart of time and space itself, and Rose Tyler disappeared. There was only a myth, a legend, a name scattered across the universe: Bad Wolf.

Bad Wolf was the energy; Rose Tyler was the spirit, the soul. She made the TARDIS go back into its past, Earth' future; with a single gesture, she turned what was life into particles of dust and what was once particles of dust into never-ending life, immortality itself. She thought in chords of alien songs and her mind was brimming with stardust and the energy of the essence of everything.

Rose looked into the vortex. And the vortex looked back. It showed her the past and the present and the future. And the future scared her. She saw the Doctor - her Doctor - burst into flames and like a phoenix create himself anew. She saw Captain Jack suffering with the curse of the wolf's touch; time after time he escaped death, living forever until the end of time. She saw war and famine and the Earth choked by a great black darkness. She saw her Doctor, unconscious, gasping out puff after puff of living, swirling vortex energy.

It scared her. It hurt her. In the end, it made up her mind.

She heard the Doctor call for her. "I think you need a doctor." What a cornball of a line, so typical of her Doctor. She couldn't come to him, couldn't let herself be close to him. Would Rose let the Doctor die just to save herself? She burned from the inside out, tears both hers and yet not streaking her golden face.

It was for the better, after all, Rose reasoned. The universe needed the Doctor, forever and onwards. They needed their savior. Who was she to take that away from them?

Is this your choice?

For him . . . yes.

Rose looked into the Doctor's eyes. For a second, the longest second of her life, she saw the Doctor as what he was: father, grandfather, student, lover, traveler, renegade, runaway, Time's Champion, the Oncoming Storm, the man who walked through time. Rose felt relief. He wouldn't be alone, not for long; someone would come along, fill her space, give him the attention and affection he needs so much.

She smiled, and the Doctor at once realized her intentions. "I can help you---" he started, but Rose shook her head, her glowing blond locks forming a temporary halo around her head.

"No, you can't." Rose ran her tongue over her teeth and laughed a little. It sounded like an echo, accentuated by the vortex raging inside her. "But you can have a fantastic life, for me." And then it became too much, too overbearing.

Her flowing blond hair was the last thing to disintegrate into thin air, leaving behind a glowing Oxford key, a loudly weeping Time Lord, and a name that would last forever.

Moment In The Twilight [Doctor Who]

2008-05-25T16:36:10Z

TITLE: Moment In The Twilight
SERIES: Doctor Who
RATING: PG-13
CHAPTERS/ONE SHOT: One-Shot
CHARACTERS: Six, Frobisher
GENRE: General
SUMMARY: The Doctor and Frobisher watch a natural occurrence in the sky.
NOTES: Written as a birthday gift for bibliophile1887. Happy birthday! Hope you like it :3

Marginal man, counting the stars
Whenever it's twilight
He starts to think of
those he can't forget
- 'Marginal Man', Garnet Crow

Aurora borealis is a natural phenomenon only visible in the northern sky from the surface of the planet Earth. It is seen as a swirling of colored lights backdropped against the night sky. In reality, it is caused by the collision of charged particles in Earth's magnetosphere and upper atmosphere, emitting their energy as florescent light.

It had the honor of being viewed from a grassy knoll in the south of France by a man and his penguin - and the penguin was two seconds away from strangling the man to death, regenerating alien or not.

"You gotta ruin everything with that scientific talk, don't you Doc?" Frobisher managed to form what passed for a frown with his beak.

The Doctor turned his head and frowned back, twisting his neck in the process just to look at the penguin lying next to him. "I am merely explaining what goes on during an aurora borealis," he huffed. "That is very useful information - and last I checked, you were business of collecting information, mister private dick." He turned back to watching the stars shift above their heads.

"No, Doc, you totally ruined it, see? This isn't about gases and particles and whatever the hell else, it's about - um - er - something else." Frobisher wasn't used to talk about such abstract things, and it showed in his reluctance to elaborate.

A heavy silence hung over the two men. The sky continued to silently twist and turn into a spectrum of colors in the absence of speech.

The Doctor, typically, was the first to talk. "Well, after that last place, isn't it nice to just relax for a bit?"

"Hunh. Going to Jaconda was your idea, not mine. You just failed to mention the coup being waged against their government and that they all knew your face and name!" He gave his companion a quick glance before continuing. "And who's Peri, anyway? I never met her and---"

"Past companion, was with me the first time," the Doctor said, sounding a little irritated. "Not like it's any of your concern. You've never asked me before about that kind of thing?"

"That kind of thing, eh? None of my concern, eh?" The Doctor, in his haste to put the past aside and concentrate on the starry spectacle before them, forgot a very important trait of his shape-shifting friend: once he sniffs out something interesting, it takes an impossible amount of willpower to shake him loose. And at the moment that willpower was something the Doctor was sorely missing. Here came the conversation he knew he'd dread ever since Frobisher snuck into the TARDIS over a year ago: those who came before.

There was Peri and Mel and Evelyn, for starters. Tegan came back once for a rather silly trip. Those chaps from Top Gear came in once, let him drive the reasonably-priced car and everything. He saved Rab and Ryan from a group of Cybermats in Edinburgh, and they ended up wheedling him into appearing at one of their award ceremonies. There was Susan and Grant and a yellow-haired youth in a vibrantly orange jumpsuit.

"So, where does that leave me?" Frobisher remarked after it was all said. The Doctor gave him an odd look. "Here I am, Frobisher P.I., looking like a bird in a tuxedo. I need spectacles to read and I haven't had a girlfriend in ages. How in all hell am I going to measure up to a line-up like those kids?"

"Not that I, well, care or anything," he added quickly before rolling onto his side, away from the Doctor.

Frobisher was surprised to hear laughter well up from behind him. He rolled around rather quick for a penguin of his girth to see the Doctor grinning and giggling like a small child.

The giggling subsided after a few manic seconds, leaving the Time Lord to answer with, "The difficulty is not so great to die for a friend, as to find a friend worth dying for."

"And who said that one?" Frobisher asked.

"Homer. Grecian poet with a curly beard."

"So, ah - all of them? You'd die for them?"

A snort. "But of course."

"Even me, Doc?"

"I suppose, if it came to it . . . yes, young friend, I surely would."

Frobisher gulped. "That's a tall order to follow there."

The Doctor smirked and returned his gaze to the sky. "Don't count me out so soon, Frobisher. I'm not done with the world yet!"

Frobisher rolled his eyes, and together they watched a miracle.

Like Clockwork [Doctor Who]

2008-05-11T01:16:50Z

TITLE: Like Clockwork
SERIES: Doctor Who (Sixth Era)
RATING: PG-13
CHAPTERS/ONE SHOT: One-Shot
PAIRINGS: N/A
GENRE: General
PROMPT: "The wheel is come full circle: I am here." - Edmund (King Lear)
SUMMARY: Set during Attack of the Cybermen. We've gone back to the beginning, the place where homo sapiens first believed a blue box could fly. The place is right, but the time is wrong. TARDIS' POV. Written for 10_shakespeare.

This may never start---
We could fall apart,
And I'd be your memory.
Sugarcult - "Memory"

We've gone back to the beginning, the place where homo sapiens first believed a blue box could fly. The place is right, but the time is wrong. The air is suffused with conspiracy, scents of paranoia and confusion so commonly associated with that race of upright individuals, human beings. Somewhere underneath the paved streets of this city, a man is leading his team to destinations unknown and only he knows the plan, ideas twisting and turning in his head like clockwork gears. Shifting and changing. Thinking, formulating, scheming. Typical Earthling, colony-born or otherwise.

The story's gone full circle to the junkyard. There's something symbolic in coming home after a long and difficult rebirth. Grey hair and Edwardian couture has changed to blond curls and multicoloured patchwork, but the soul is still remembered. And you are here with the American girl and me, and I'm changing too. But it's not permanent, it never is.

You and me, we've changed, still changing, in a cycle of transformation. There's a fire in your eyes and a kick in your step that was not there before; there's a voice in your head telling you "Something is not right, something is just not right" as you walk through familiar streets and alleyways. Someone's out there in distress, calling for you, but you can't find them and it hurts. You've held an old friend in your arms as he died and you are a little bit scared that history will repeat itself. It always does.

And it does.

"Didn't go very well, did it? . . . I don't think I've misjudged anybody quite as bad as I misjudged Lytton."

See what I mean? Even in your old age - and don't deny it, nine hundred years is nothing to wave away - you're still making mistakes, underestimating that eclectic shade of gray that's splattered itself across the universe, born from apes with curious minds. Have you forgotten already? It all started with two curious school teachers, checking up on a pupil, and continues to this day on a path of stardust.

We've gone back to the genesis, the crux of the story and rebuilt our beginning. Humanity stands witness to two people crossing into the sunset; a sharp-eyed Time Lord and his book-smart companion, walking on until they are blips on the horizon, then there is nothing. What you can't see: witty repartees thrown back and forth, cocked eyebrows, laughter, tons upon tons of words and no one to write them down. And occasionally, they'll save the world, again.

The place was right, the time was wrong, but that was okay. You never had that good a sense of direction anyway, but you always ended up exactly when you are supposed to. And if you clutch your lapels from time to time, that's okay too. In the end, it's all the same, no matter the face.

No Words Were Spoken [Naruto]

2008-05-07T01:10:49Z

TITLE: No Words Were Spoken
SERIES: Naruto
RATING: R
CHAPTERS/ONE-SHOT: One-shot
GENRE: Romance
PAIRING/S: Tsunade/Sakura, past Tsunade/Jiraiya and Sakura/Sasuke
WARNINGS: Yuri, sexual details
SUMMARY: The dead come back to haunt the living; two survivors in a world of ghosts. AU.

Sasuke was gone, never coming back, dead in a cave far away with Tobi and Itachi. The news tore Sakura apart, and for weeks she wasted bitter tears on her former teammate, even as she worked alongside Tsunade to heal the ninja who had been sent to retrieve him.

The pink-haired girl could feel her teacher's eyes on her. Tsunade was obviously watching for signs of a breakdown, of a mental collapse that could negatively affect her work. So Sakura stayed diligent, refusing to give the older woman a chance to pull her out. The hospitals of Konoha was where she belonged, and it would be where she stayed and healed herself and others, even if it killed her. The killing medicine: remembering Sasuke as he was, then casting him off like dead skin, familiar but useless, warm but unneeded.

She didn't want to see her fellow ninjas outside of the work area, so at night she went drinking with Tsunade. Two broken women would burn moonlight carousing and bar hopping, slogging around drunkenly with the memories of dead, loved men. Talk of the past was forbidden. There was only the future - a world without foolishness and careless actions, a never-ending tale of never-will-bes and wouldn't-it-be-nices. Tsunade was fifty-four; Sakura was sixteen. They were either too young or too old to be doing such things, but the social mores of society stopped being important when they stopped breathing.

It would happen on the occasional summer nights, when the muggy heat called for more ice cold liquor than usual and multiple layers would be frowned upon. The two women found themselves in Tsunade's apartment and they would sit on her futon and slur memories of the dead. On one of these nights, Tsunade touched the back of Sakura's hand. It was light, almost feather-like, tracing the characters of Sakura's name on her skin. They traced a soft line upwards to the young girl's mouth and become moist; the invitation had been accepted.

They would often tussle on top of each other, pulling at each other's clothes, stroking the other's hair. And if they called each other by the wrong name - if Sakura cried out the name of her black-haired teammate while her teacher was between her legs, or if Tsunade whispered to the wind the name of the last great sannin as her student's fingers dipped deeper and deeper inside of her - well, that was understandable. The words were important, the sounds soon forgotten. What the ears didn't hear the body remembered, and carried over to the next besotted night of drink and talk.

They were the greatest of actors, the village their stage. There was no 'morning after'; everything went on as usual. Sakura was used to it. Three years ago under a full moon she had lost her virginity to Sasuke. She had been afraid at first, unsure of why Sasuke asked her to do such a thing. But she soon didn't care, and all that consumed her was the thrust of her own hips and the weight of Sasuke's member inside of her. She came, and it felt uncomfortable. A minute or so later, Sasuke came inside her, and Sakura felt as if she'd been consumed by the spirit of heat itself.

Sasuke left the village the next day. He returned three years later cold as the ground to be buried in the Uchiha family grave.

In the present, the last night of summer was different. No drink was had; when Sakura gestured to the sake bottle on the bedside table, Tsunade shook her head. Under the bedroom window, the disconnected sounds of nighttime revelry became background noise for a sober scene. Somewhere out there the people of Sakura's past were living: Shikamaru and his team drinking and playing Shogi, Kakashi downing hot brandy at a cold grave, a red-faced Temari punishing a Hokage in the making for being a peeper, Naruto eating ramen for half-price while trying not to re-break his arm. In the forgotten bedroom fireflies rested their wings on the windowsills and lit the way for Sakura's hands to cradle Tsunade's face.

Two sets of eyes locked on each other. No words were spoken as the two made love for the first time.

The Empty Throne [Doctor Who]

2008-04-13T21:03:52Z

TITLE: The Empty Throne
SERIES: Doctor Who
RATING: PG-13
CHAPTERS/ONE SHOT: One-Shot
GENRE: General
PROMPT: "O, that way madness lies; let me shun that; No more of that." - King Lear
SUMMARY: Post-Curse of Fenric. The Doctor reaches an impasse, and the chair of Time's Champion is once again left vacant. Written for 10_shakespeare.

He could have crushed the whole damn thing if he wanted to. Watched the wretched little ball of a planet burn up into nothing but flames and dust. Thousands upon thousands of years of mistakes, wars, pestilence, hatred and loathing stretched across the cosmos --- gone. He would have been alone with the stars and the sound of his own hearts beating, both in sync as they floated through space with no destination.

They would all be dead, never to make history again, all with the push of one little button on a flimsy remote control; billions of lives never to be born, if he could just press it ---

"Stop."

He looked at his young mortal companion, his grey-blue eyes haunted by nine hundred years of deciding who lives and who dies and who matters more to the safety of the time stream, of missing the forest for the trees and only seeing red. His hand moved awkwardly away from the control device, which was quickly destroyed with a quick tap of a plastic hammer.

She placed her hands on his slumped shoulders as if holding him up and watched him lower his eyes out of something like humility or even shame. It was quite a scene: the student supporting the teacher. Seconds of painful silence dragged on as if stepping through a bog, thick and dark.

She said, "You need a break," and the Doctor looked up with a pained expression.

"You're right," he said, and in his mind he thought: she's always right. He felt as if he was resigning himself to the inevitable: a long stretch of inactivity.

Silently, it was decided, there would be no more of this madness. As they talked of where to go next, Ace was relieved to see the familiar glimmer of light return to the Doctor's eyes, the skip back in his step as he paced playfully around the console room. Yes, her Doctor, even if sometimes he would idly touch one of the roundels when in thought or dig out his worn pair of spoons during the end of the world.

The Doctor set the co-ordinates for a holiday resort on a far-off world, and the planet of Earth heaved a great big sigh of relief at narrowly avoiding extermination, thanking its lucky stars for the brave lass from Perivale.

Good Eats [Doctor Who]

2008-03-24T02:11:02Z

TITLE: Good Eats
SERIES: Doctor Who
RATING: PG
CHAPTERS/ONE SHOT: One-Shot
GENRE: General
PAIRING/S: N/A
SUMMARY: Of the food they ate and the leftovers they couldn't leave in the diner. Set from Rose to the very end of Smith & Jones.
NOTES: Written on a whim and a random word generator. Enjoy :3 Oh, and Happy Easter!

The silver Frigidaire in the far left corner of the kitchen seemed to be the most touched item in the TARDIS; every occupant since Susan seemed to have a habit of bringing food in for later eating. So it was no surprise when the Doctor - the one from the North with the leather jacket, natch - found himself with a fridge full of greasy bags of intergalactic fast food no one bothered to eat. Not to mention an overabundance of chips, but that was a given, as both Rose and Captain Jack, like co-conspirators in a murder plot, had taken upon themselves the task of collecting different samples of the fried food from every planet possible (with a few satellite varieties for good measure).

Then came the big shift in the crew - out went the omnisexual captain and the leather-clad navigator, in came the pinstriped weed with the Buddy Holly glasses. Quickly the fridge became a miniature patisserie. Every sweet imaginable was stocked to satisfy the Time Lord's sweet tooth: cakes, sweet buns, cream puffs, flan, bon bons, the odd glob of chocolate and starch, cupcakes with edible ball bearings, et cetera. There was, of course, many bags and cardboard trays of chips, with a new preference for those served on a satellite in orbit around Jupiter, cooked in sunflower oil and peppered with tumeric.

And then the fridge was empty, save for a lone bottle of bubbly. It appeared one day and was gone the next. Whether it was due to the disappearance of the blond shop-girl or the short appearance of the cheeky redhead was undecided.

Days later, she came in, ever the curious one, a newcomer to the ways of time travel. Patiently the fridge sat, and dreamed electric dreams of what new edibles Ms Jones would bring.

We Will Be Lovers [Tsubasa]

2008-03-19T02:48:27Z

We Will Be Lovers
Fandom: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicles
Pairing: Sakura/Syaoran
Theme set: Delta (for 1sentence
Rating: PG-13
Warning[s]: Spoilers for everything up to recent chapters. Not the happiest love song in the world.

Coffee.
Syaoran served coffee in the mornings to all workers and inhabitants of Clow Castle, but only Sakura thanked him and called him by his name, in an loving fashion: "Syaoran-kun".

Air.
Syaoran breathed in the crisp air of the Clow ruins and wondered if one day Sakura would stand alongside him and do the same, the sound of her inhaling and exhaling making the sweetest song.

Head.
During dress-up, Sakura said, "Bring me the head of Syaoran Reed!" in a fake-serious voice with a pout on her face as if expecting it at any minute; the confused look on page-Syaoran's face became a running joke for many weeks to follow.

Earth.
When they had to bury Sakura's first pet behind the castle, she cried on Syaoran's shoulder and broke the last barrier between them.

Spring.
Every morning, no matter the season, Sakura sprung out of bed lithe as a butterfly; these days, Syaoran sprung out with her, and went to bed at the same time.

Drink.
They drank tea together, watching the sun settle behind the hills in the darkening sky, and in that moment were closer than ever before.

Taboo.
If it was considered taboo for a boy in Syaoran's position to care for, even love his princess, then social laws be damned; Syaoran's feelings were the most forbidden of them all.

Wood.
It took him a bit of time, but Syaoran carved for Sakura a wooden recorder with her name engraved as a present and resolved to give it to her the next time they met; the next day Sakura couldn't even remember his name.

Rain.
It rained in their first dimensional trip, outside Yuuko's shop; it echoed the feeling in his heart, that he may never see his Sakura's smile again.

Roses.
Roses were for the living and cherry blossoms were for the dead; if this was foreshadowing, then Syaoran would have none of it.

Solid.
They clung to each other as they flew through the vortex, grateful for something warm and solid to hold on to.

Hope.
The first time Sakura woke up, in the first dimension entered, there was a glimmer of something in her eye as she saw Syaoran; whether it was recognition was unknown, but it gave the boy hope for the first time in so long though he knew better.

Fall.
They were always there for each other, the safety net should the other fall; no balancing act could do it better than them.

Apples.
The taste and texture and bite of apples were different - from Hanshin to Jade to Outo and beyond - but they were still delicious in their mouths, and the two always held hands as they rushed from one tree to another, tasting its foreign yet familiar fruit.

Despair.
Countless times Syaoran threw himself into danger's path for the sake of his princess, and her heart would seize up with despair until he emerged safely back to her waiting arms.

Bugs.
If there's one thing that bugs Kurogane the most, its the way Sakura and Syaoran gaze at each other adoringly, then look away with flushed faces, as if to get too close meant to lose everything between them.

Duty.
Syaoran thought, at first, twas duty that kept him bound to his princess; with each of Sakura's smiles, he realized it was something else, something mysterious that could tear them apart as well as keep them together.

Fire.
The fire that burned inside Syaoran understood better than he did the boy's feelings, and burned all the brighter for it, if it meant defending that special someone.

Doors.
There were so many doors in the castle, it took the two a whole week to go through them all and explore what they held; the same curiosity from that time blazed through them as they stepped through Mokona's 'door' into the vortex yet again.

Flexible.
A drunken Fai showed Sakura how flexible he was by rolling his arms around in their sockets, and as Syaoran watched he tried to do the same; in his pain, he learned what jealousy felt like.

Flying.
If flying was throwing yourself at the ground and missing, it explained the weightless feeling he always felt when he looked at his princess; when bruised and battered, she was there for him, always his wings.

Food.
Everything tasted differently, but when Sakura playfully fed a little sashimi to Syaoran, it suddenly became the most perfect food in all of the dimensions.

Foot.
Kurogane stamped one foot impatiently as they waited for Sakura to come out of her room; when she came out in her new evening gown (picked out by Fai and Mokona), they had to perform CPR on Syaoran, passing out at the sight.

Grave.
He tried to stay serious like Kurogane, a grave expression on his face, but one glance at Sakura sticking out her tongue and going cross-eyed made Syaoran burst out laughing (during a formal dinner, no less!).

Welcome.
Every time a new world made them welcome, Syaoran felt guilty; 'Don't welcome us like that, we're just here to take your most precious artifact and go' he'd think, and it took Sakura's smile from across the crowd of people to ebb the burdensome feeling.

Hollow.
Sakura knows of a hollow spot in her mind, a gap where memories used to be, and all the memories she makes with Syaoran and the others never seem enough to fill it.

Pretty.
She looked so pretty in her Piffle outfit, she often asked Syaoran if he felt feverish as his face seemed permanently crimson.

Metal.
The blade shone in the air, a mixture of metal and fire; that combined with the look in his eye frightened Sakura every time.

Ugly.
His eyes turned dark, an ugly hateful tone, and Sakura wondered yet again where had Syaoran - her Syaoran gone- and who had he left in his place.

Stable.
Kurogane doubted the stability of Syaoran's mind after the library, and hoped Sakura's heart would keep him whole; it was a foolish wish.

Poison.
The rain was like poison and Syaoran was again thankful that his princess was not conscious to feel the acid burns coming from the sky in droplets.

Secret.
They all had secrets: it was Syaoran's that nearly killed them all, and Sakura's that saved them.

Green.
It was the color of her eyes, and it haunted him in his dreams as he slept in that place outside of time, along with the name he breathed like oxygen: "Sakura-san".

Snakes.
Fei Wong's words flickered like a snake's tongue in his ear, and Syaoran felt fear like he had never felt before.

Beginning.
In the beginning, there was light and wonderment and a feeling of being content; now there was only a single thing, a pale, delicate hand stretched out to an unfeeling boy, reaching for the past yet pulling for the future.

Honor.
There is no honor in the way 'this' Syaoran takes one of the feathers, or how 'this' Syaoran pushes his princess away, and in a single moment the world cracks in half.

Light.
Her body felt light in Fai's arms, as if something was missing, something very important that he couldn't replace; he was the wrong boy with the mismatched eyes.

Lost.
One of her feathers wasn't lost, but was being kept in Acid Tokyo - Sakura only wished that 'he' would understand.

Dark.
She knew that Syaoran, her Syaoran, was somewhere in the darkness where light and warmth could not reach him; she'd strive to provide him that light even if it ended her own.

Old.
The feeling of being alone without Syaoran beside her, the feeling of desperation to save her someone special; this feeling was old and familiar and it would not be the last time for her.

New.
The feeling of being useful for once as she rode out of Tokyo on her scooter was new to Sakura, after what seemed like years of hibernation.

Water.
Her precious memory was back in Tokyo, keeping hundreds upon hundreds of innocent people alive; this one act kept Sakura going even when the next ones hurt her and everyone around her, because it was necessary to do so.

Strange.
Everyone noticed something strange about Sakura in Infinity, and the blinders they put up to make themselves keep going failed to diminish the problem - the absence of her prince.

War.
She ended the war between her emotions the only way she knew: she told stories to forget the pain, stories of a princess and her prince in a faraway castle, and they were happy and had a storybook ending.

Snow.
The world of Celes was covered in snow; if it weren't for the dire situations, the two would have made snow angels and built snowmen like old times.

Winter.
It was always winter - howling, skin-biting winter - in Celes; it matched the bitter disposition of Syaoran, and the inside of his hidden heart.

Peace.
To Syaoran, lying under the tree in Kurogane's world, Sakura finally looked at peace; to the others, she looked peacefully deceased.

Regret.
If he regretted anything, anything at all, it was not being able to say good-bye.

Summer.
When it was summer in Clow, the time for eating roasted sweet potatoes and drinking tea under a heavy moon and wearing one's best jackets to the fair, he was holding his broken princess' body as it swirled and ebbed with the winds

End.
Syaoran clasped the single sakura blossom in his hand and wept, for it felt like his life had ended in the worst way possible, and he was alone again.

Public Fanfiction Announcement

2008-03-12T00:17:11Z

Forgive me, readers of Of Poison and Yukatas . . . I don't know when the next chapters will be written/posted. A combination of writer's block and headaches makes me creatively dead and therefore unable to currently continue the story.

Will you forgive me, fans? Can you wait until Spring Break, when I'll have more time? D: *feels crappy for leaving people in the lurch for so long*

No Sin But Ignorance [Naruto]

2008-02-29T18:48:42Z

TITLE: No Sin But Ignorance
SERIES: Naruto
RATING: PG-13
CHAPTERS/ONE SHOT: One-Shot
GENRE: Romance
PAIRING/S: Jiraiya/Tsunade
SUMMARY: There's a war going on, but all they want to do is drink and reminisce. Set before events of Shippuden. For yamikinoko at naruto_flashfic for the February exchange.

Are you listening? Your mind should be more attentive, your body more tuned to your surroundings, but the air is rich with the scent of aged sake and sweet bean paste, and your ears are attentive only to the sound of the dealer's hands shuffling the worn cards back and forth. You should be on guard, Tsunade-hime, but other things are on your mind, and tonight you are no longer the Hokage of Konoha but an attractive middle-aged woman playing cards and drinking doboroku like it's going out of style.

You're about to bet everything on a single hand, maybe lose it all (a prime possibility, considering your 'winning streak'). Your hand, reaching out to place your killer card hand down, finds itself momentarily paused by another's touch, and the sudden warmth of contact breaks your focus. You look up to see gray hair framing a face flushed from drinking too damn hard. 'Jiraiya', your brain is able to register before he's pulling you off the ground and to the bar, leaving a very agitated circle of players in the drunken wake of the Great Sannin.

You're somewhat angry that Jiraiya ruined your killer hand, but the feeling fades the longer your cup is filled with the sweet liquid of your homeland. All the while, the white-haired man is half-watching you, half-watching the crowd milling about in their best robes and jackets. Tonight is the Third Hokage's birthday, and where there once were tears are now smiles and drunken revelry. You are both part of it and leading the pack, and its your cup that heads every toast and every impromptu karaoke session.

Someone hands Jiraiya the mike, and a hush falls on the crowd surrounding him and you. Did you know he could sing? Not very well, but his enthusiasm and knowledge of the lyrics make up for his poor ability. It's a song from when you two were children, a song about star-crossed sweethearts and lost love never to be found. Nostalgia takes you back to the days of learning under the Hokage alongside the frog and the snake - and you excuse yourself from the crowded room even as Jiraiya is singing the last warbling bars of the song. You say you need air (you do need air, and space) and the moisture on your face is spilled sake (your tears burn like alcohol, so it must be true).

The smattering of scattered stars across the sky has never looked more beautiful than tonight. You wipe the sake from your lips and the tears from your face; no one is watching you here, but a sense of dignity must still be maintained, if only for your sake. For a moment, all you can sense is the cooling of the night air, and the combined smells of fish broiling and alcoholic fumes tempt you into a false sense of security. Then there, in your peripheral, appears that familiar tone of gray, speaking with that familiar tone of voice, and the illusion is lost.

"Oh, it's you, Jiraiya." You say this as if you didn't know that he'd eventual come after you, like a dog in heat---no, stop that. You're wrong, and you know it and he probably knows it too, and would just laugh it off casually if he suspected. That is, if he doesn't already.

"Oh, Tsunade-hime!" Jiraiya hiccups and looks around red-faced, surprised. "I didn't see you there, hiding in the shadows." A smile tugs at his lips like it belongs there. "Wait long?"

"I wasn't waiting for you," and you both know that's a lie. "You should work on your pick-up lines some more - no wonder you're a bachelor."

The white-haired man just laughs. "I'm too much of a prime choice for the fairer sex of Konoha to handle . . . but I'll find myself that perfect maiden one day. You'll see!"

"She'll need the stomach to get as shit-faced as you on a daily basis, then," you say. The two of you both end up laughing as if it was funnier than it really was. Your ribs ache with the pressure.

From a pouch on his belt, he pulls out a white ceramic bottle and two cups. You two quietly drink sake and watch the sky deepen from blue to black. The silence disturbs you; you have never known Jiraiya to be so silent, especially while alcohol is being passed around. There is only the sound of thoughts being collected, and others being stored away for safe keeping.

You're the first to speak. "You're leaving tomorrow." It's a statement, not a question, even if you want it to be, or you want Jiraiya to rethink his decision for just a fraction of a second.

"Yup," Jiraiya answers and takes a direct swig from the bottle (a disgusting habit he has yet to shake off, although a little endearing). "I'm taking him to see the world, after all. The forests, the deserts, the oceans and mountains - we're going to cross every one of them!"

You give a low chuckle. "All of them, Toad-san? Or are you just being the typical artist again?" You wonder, off-hand, if Jiraiya will be doing more research for his book on the side. As a matter of fact, he hasn't told you the plot (ha!) of the latest one, not even the working title.

Jiraiya grins and waves one hand as if to blow away your words. "My words are precious, like the cherry blossoms, Tsunade-san." He's showing the typical signs of a sloshed nin as he begins to slur and waver in place while clumsily trying to right himself. "Gotta keep the good ones to myself, yeah?" His last words comes out as "yeash".

"Bring him back in one piece, okay?" you ask, and Jiraiya knows it's not young Uzumaki you're talking about. The air is static with spent drink and unspoken words. His drinking binge ends here.

You guide the drunken man back to his room, weaving through alleys so less people know of the state he's in, despite his reputation preceding himself. He takes a step forward, takes a couple weaving steps back, and steps almost into a wall until your steady arms lead him back onto the path and eventually onto the futon in his ramshackle excuse of a bedroom.

He runs a slow hand through your hair and whispers that you're a beautiful woman before passing out and fills the room with his nasal snores. You finish off the bottle you stole from Jiraiya's pouch, silently, so the cicadas outside the door cannot hear the tears forming on your face.

Of Poison and Yukatas, Chapter 2 [Tsubasa]

2008-02-09T01:47:18Z

TITLE: Of Poison and Yukatas
SERIES: Tsubasa
RATING: PG-13
CHAPTER: Two/???
GENRE: Alternate Universe
PAIRING/S: Fai/Kurogane, eventual Kamui/Watanuki (CRAAAACK)
SUMMARY: Kurogane, newly engaged, takes his husband-to-be Fai to the home of his aunts Yuuko and Tomoyo and his off-kilter brother Watanuki. Insanity ensues.
NOTES: Loose parody of the movie/play "Arsenic and Old Lace", for the kuroxfai Winter Challenge.

status: currently on HIATUS

CHAPTER TWO: In Which Watanuki Goes A-Digging and the First Body is Found

Evening rolled around, and the group of three in the parlor were quietly finishing their flan. Kurogane kept sneaking peeks out of the window to see if Fai was coming back, and ignored the sly looks from Aunt Yuuko. The serene Aunt Tomoyo kept on smiling, knowing full well about the concern over Kurogane's fiance, evident in his jumpy behavior.

Kurogane found himself lost in thought. His whole day seemed to be falling into shambles. First Reverend Ashura, thundering in and almost knocking his head off, ruining his engagement announcement. Good Lord, what would happen next? Yuuko and Tomoyo, his darling aunties, as ministers to a gay wedding. Who would the best man be, he wondered idly. Maybe Wata --- hey, Watanuki!

The ninja snapped out of his self-indulgent thought process in such a way that two sets of eyes were soon firmly trained on him, waiting for him to speak. "Err---um, how's good ol' Watanuki, anyhow? I mean, as good as he can be?"

Yuuko and Tomoyo exchanged glances - something that did not go unnoticed by Kurogane's hawkish watch.

"Well, you know how Watanuki is these days," Tomoyo said, measuring out each word as if reciting a tricky recipe. "Always charging around, blowing his bugle at all times of the day, digging the canal in the basement . . ."

"No thanks to that book your step-cousin sent over," Yuuko said tonelessly (she had obviously told this story before). "Typical Benjamin Gates-Brewster, sending a book about President Roosevelt." She grumbled into the glass of whiskey her pork bun of a butler had sent in. "If I see another damn safari hat before I die, it'll be too soon."

Tomoyo waved away Yuuko's words and continued. "Well, there was that horrible incident with the vase as well. Always mooning after sweet Himawari, playing taps for her and the like . . . and he gets a vase on the noggin. Scrambled him into disrepair, I'm afraid." She made a sympathetic tsk-tsk, which earned her a quick snort and a smirk from the heavy-lidded sister. "Well, me and Yuuko, we've decided it would be best if we sent poor, sweet Watanuki somewhere where he can be taken care of properly. It's a lovely little place called Happy Doki Doki Sanitarium. It's not too far from here, so we could visit him whenever we want. Doesn't that sound lovely, Kurogane?"

Kurogane cleared his throat. "Well, I guess . . . Err, if that's what you want, Aunt Tomoyo."

She smiled and nodded. "Yes, he'll be going away early next month. We couldn't bear to part with him too soon, not if he'd miss your marriage!"

He groaned. "I don't think Watanuki could behave himself at a wedding. Especially with that damn bugle!" He grimaced. "He used to blow it into my doorway on Saturday mornings to wake me up for the weekend cabinet meetings, but we'd end up watching Mazinger Z together in the living room."

"I always thought that was cute," Yuuko mused. Kurogane glowered as he continued. "Anyhow, I have enough crazy in my soon-to-be married life with Fai. What are the chances that Watanuki will mistake the wedding for a congressional hearing?"

Kurogane was about to go on about how Watanuki's presence would upset Ashura and probably start a fight (which Yuuko would undoubtedly capture on videotape) when from the upstairs came the familiar sound of a loud, shrill call - like a well-tuned bugle. Bugle?

Yuuko smiled, still the crafty witch of her days. "Speak of the devil," she declared, "It must be 'good ol' Watanuki', am I right?" The ninja gave his aunts a half-hearted chuckle before bolting out of the room and into the sitting room - only to meet his brother at the foot of the stairs.

Watanuki Brewster, with his safari hat angled at a jaunty position and in his good suit, looked ever the Japanese Roosevelt. He lacked a smart moustache, but his glasses-bow tie combo more than made up for it. At the moment, he had his typical crazy grin on his face - the same smile once reserved for the likes of Himawari. And, of course, in one of his hands was the infamous golden bugle.

"Good morning, older brother!" Watanuki said cheerfully. Kurogane returned the greeting, despite all evidence pointing to it being midday.

"Err, have you heard---" Kurogane's attempt at notifying his brother of his engagement was cut off by the entrance of Aunt Tomoyo holding a rust-covered shovel, her hands protected from the dirt by her frayed gardening gloves.

"Yippee! It's time to dig another lock for the canal!" Watanuki took the shovel from Tomoyo's hands with and flourished it around a bit before returning it to his side, where it trembled as he spoke. "Yep, goin' down to Panama this instant - another yellow fever, can you believe it?" He gave Kurogane a sly wink.

"Don't forget, Mr President, you'll be handing over the navy to two nice gentlemen from the Army today," Tomoyo said gently. Watanuki nodded solemnly, looking as if he'd just been assigned a very important job of national security.

"Very well, Madame Secretary --- but for now, I must work on the locks. Fever victims don't bury themselves, you know!" He tsk-ed softly. "And what would First Lady Himawari think if she knew I was slacking on the job? Well, ta!" And so 'President' Watanuki Brewster, with his bugle tucked under his left arm and his shovel slung over his right shoulder, did a quick salute before marching off down the stairs that led to the basement, aka 'Panama', leaving behind him a content Tomoyo and a somewhat frazzled Kurogane.

Kurogane was on the cusp of asking about Watanuki's mention of Himawari and the ships, but he was once again cut off, this time by Aunt Yuuko. She spoke from the doorway between the sitting room and the kitchen, and she rolled a teacup around in her hand lazily as if to accentuate her words.

"Now now, little nephew, don't worry about Watanuki," she said, as if partially reading his mind - or probably just his very telling facial expressions. "Oh, Tomoyo, we must get to preparing dinner for our beloved Kurogane and his future husband, correct?"

Tomoyo smiled and nodded. "Yes, of course. Make yourself comfortable Kurogane . . . we'll be right back!" Clutching her skirts, she hurried off with Yuko into the kitchen, all the while giggling quietly like a schoolgirl with a secret.

Kurogane did what he did best in these situations - brooded. Well, broodingly thought is more like it. With Watanuki in his own little happy place, both aunts in the kitchen, and not a Fai Harper to be seen, he went into the parlor and began pacing back and forth, turning over the recent events in his mind like a detective with a set of clues, or a chef with a cache of ingredients, or --- well, you get the picture, he was thinking.

He thought about his upcoming wedding to Fai Harper. God, that would be a crazy day. His aunts performing the service, Watanuki playing a song on his bugle, Reverend Ashura glaring discretely at him from the pews. And he'd make his vows to Fai under the lit chandelier, looking at his husband's face through a flimsy white veil - to match the long-skirted dress (yes, Fai insisted on wearing a dress - it wasn't so much tradition as an excuse to look more effeminate than usual. Oh, and he liked the feel of the skirt on his bare legs).

He thought of all his firsts with Fai. Their first meeting was outside his newspaper's building on a rainy Monday morning under Fai's generously offered umbrella. Their first date was on New Year's Eve, where they drunkenly danced under the light of the Times Square Ball, Fai giggling at Kurogane's clumsy footwork. Their first kiss was during the premiere screening of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. As Cho kissed Harry on screen, Fai leaned over and covered Kurogane's mouth with his own. The first time they made love was --- Wait.

Kurogane frowned. He had yet to de-virgin Fai! Kurogane had been a bit of a player in his college days, but he had sworn off women after the last one - a sly looking redhead who he later found out was a prostitute - had taken all the money out of his wallet while he was sleeping and ran off, never to be seen again. But, this time - it would be different. He may not verbalize his emotions as much as he should, but Kurogane was hopelessly head-over-heels in love with Fai Harper. If Fai was hurt or sick or inconvenienced in anyway, Kurogane would run to his side and growl at anyone who tried to help his boyfriend.

He wondered over to the window and peered out. No sign of Fai in the neighboring house, or Ashura for that matter. He scowled and sat on the window seat, crossed his arms and stayed still for a good seven seconds. Staying still for so long (long for him at least) got on his nerves, so he got up and began rustling the curtains out of boredom. They did nothing for him, so he decided to have a look into the window seat itself and see what the hell Watanuki was stashing there this time. When they were growing up together, Watanuki would keep wooden soldiers in the seat - his reserve army. Kurogane chuckled at the memories as the seat creaked open.

Kurogane looked into the face of a dead man, Asian with short spiky fair and a half-scowl on his face, with the initials 'T.K'. on his shirt.

A body. A dead body. In the window seat. Around him, the room seemed to be spinning, the air much more thick and cloying that usual. Kurogane let out a sudden string of curses as he slammed the cover down on the poor dead man.

What to do? Kurogane's mind raced in circles, as did he around the parlor floor, bumping into things along the way but not caring a good god damn because there was a body in the window seat and it's all Watanuki's fault! His own thoughts took him by surprise for a second, but then things fell into place. Of course he had to be put away in that sanitarium! He was a menace, a threat to society. Right?

Kurogane's brow furrowed as he found himself once again facing the window seat. Right then and there he resolved to tell his aunts about Watanuki's act of murder. They had to put him away now - not later, or after the wedding but now, before he hurt someone else.

There was a knock at the door. The ninja made a growling noise out of frustration and flailed his arms a bit before returning to form. Who could be calling on the Brewster house now? Surely not Fai - or, at least, he hoped it wasn't Fai. He had no plans on his boyfriend finding out his future brother-in-law had killed a man. Still, if no one answered the door - well, that would seem very suspicious.

"I'll get it!" he called out. Damn, he thought. Warning his aunts would have to come later. Wondering idly if Yuuko already knew, being a seer and all, Kurogane crossed from the parlor to the sitting room to the front door. He cautiously peered through the door's peep hole, expecting Fai or Ashura or anyone except who he actually saw.

Two young dark-haired men - twins by the looks of it - in police uniforms. One whistled to himself as the other chatted idly of some play he was writing, and their oddly pointed teeth gleamed in the mid-afternoon light.

Police? With a body in the house? Kurogane made a pitiful sound in the back of his throat. He was temped to exclaim "Could this day possibly get any worse?" but didn't. Knowing his luck, there was worse yet to come.

~end of chapter two

Wrath of a Lonely God [Doctor Who]

2008-02-02T14:53:31Z

TITLE: Wrath of a Lonely God
SERIES: Doctor Who
RATING: PG-13
CHAPTERS/ONE SHOT: One-Shot
GENRE: Romance
PROMPT: "Come not between the dragon and his wrath." - King Lear
SUMMARY: Ten/Rose. They have come into his sanctuary and crossed the line. Written for 10_shakespeare. Spoilers for old school companion death and most of season two.

The alarm goes off five minutes after the doors closed and they had already gone to their respective areas in the TARDIS - Rose in her bedroom, the Doctor to tinker in the library. There is a bright blinking light on the console, accompanied by a quick procession of sharp shrill whistle-like notes. It only takes half a second for the Doctor to realize what was happening - intruder, ship under attack, danger.

He leaps through the hallways, taking great strides to make his way towards the now-rollicking console room. He can smell the burnt sizzle of laser fire and quickly extinguishes a handful of sparks coming from the controls using the flaps of his coat. Glasses are impatiently shoved farther up the bridge of the nose as he starts flipping switches and turning knobs. One limber leg stretches a great deal to reach a far away lever, and handles it with the Doctor's typical acrobatic flair.

Then he hears a distinct sound above all the buzzing and fizzing of the console and the dull ringing of the cloister bells: a feminine scream. Rose, and soon the Doctor is rocketing out of the shaking console room and through the hallways, which are vibrating with the energy of distant explosions. His fists are clenched and his eyes are hard-set; there is no doubt that whatever was plaguing his companion will find hell to pay at his hands.

'Hell to pay'. Curious. He had already faced down a demon in his pit and walked away unharmed. Demons and goblins, devils and monsters: been there, done that. It's this one certain thing which has the Doctor shaken up more than usual. A faceless, reckless thing that invades computer systems in the blink of an eye while entering through the 'back door' - and dear Rassilon, has the hallways always been this damn long and twisty?

There is another scream, and it is reassuring, for it means Rose is still alive or at least enough to resist the unknown enemy. It would be a lot easier if the aggravated Time Lord did not have to go dicking about in his own corridors, but that thing has taken over the mainframe, and there's not much he can do. No, he won't do anything, not until he knows that his companion, his Rose Tyler, is out of danger. And if that sounds just a bit possessive, it is. So many before her have been lost forever: Sara Kingdom, Adric, Sam Jones, Reinette, countless others just as significant. This one is different, he vows. This one I won't lose. My Rose.

And he knows this possessive feelings are wrong and that Rose deserves a life of her own, but as he paces angrily through the halls, he can't help but think that she feels the same way. This thought mingles with the rage in his hearts and propels him through the doorway into Rose's quarters - his eyes a-lit with fire, sonic screwdriver out, ready to go, ready to save the center of his universe.

"Take your hands off my companion or I might do something you'll sorely regret."

It will be, for the hijacking alien fresh out of uni, a very uncomfortable lesson.

Name of the Arms [Bleach]

2008-02-01T22:54:36Z

TITLE: Name of the Arms
SERIES: Bleach
RATING: PG-13
CHAPTERS/ONE SHOT: One-Shot
GENRE: Romance/Angst
WORD COUNT: 526
PAIRING/S: platonic Kenpachi/Yachiru
SUMMARY: It's the ever-present little arms wrapped around his shoulders that keep the large man grounded.
NOTES: Written for bleach_contest week 5 theme - embrace.

Kenpachi Zaraki doesn't know the name of his sword, and it frustrates him (even more so when he can't perform his ban kai, and finds himself watching Ichigo with guarded jealousy). He doesn't remember the names of his parents, or the different clans who raised him in the alleys of Rukongai (well, they never really did him much good, look at how fast he left them). He doesn't remember the names of the countless men he defeated to get to where he is now: Captain and commander of the 11th Division, proud member of the Gotei 13's elite corp.

There is a name that, to him, is more important than all of those. Forgetting this one would be near impossible. It's the name of the one person who followed him from the slums of the toughest district into the hallowed halls of Seireitei and the white kimono jacket of captain-hood. It was that captain she was currently clinging to as they moved through those very halls. It was what identified her pink hair, her big bright eyes, her ever-present smile. It was her name he whispered every night as he tucked the little girl into bed beside him: Yachiru.

At the moment, they were heading towards another meeting of the Gotei 13, in which they would all undoubtedly make no progress and end up wasted while watching the full moon rise and set. In other words, a typical business day for them all. He had already seen Yachiru pocket her trusty black marker in her hidden satchel, so Zaraki knew that sooner or later a certain angry bald shinigami would wake up from a drunken stupor to find washable graffiti all over his scalp. Fun times were to be had, Zaraki thought with his typical smirk.

A skittish looking understudy from Nanao's section - nerd with glasses, Watanuna or Watakuni or whatever, his eyes always kept to the floor - passed by Zaraki in the hallway and the two men bumped shoulders. For a split second, Zaraki's hand strayed by the handle of his zanpaktou, and his mind went over the possibilities of perhaps cutting into this little whelp, this kid who thinks he could just bump into the great Captain of 11th Division and get away with it. The smell of blood. The wood floors once clean, now slick with red and black. A laugh in the night.

Then he felt a tiny pair of arms tightened ever so slightly around his broad shoulders, and caught a flash of pink in his peripheral, and he removed his hand from his blade's sheath, and slowly relaxed the muscles in his arms. No, not today. Not here. Once again, the touch of her brought the indomitable Zaraki Kenpachi to his senses.

He did, however, shoot the young man a quick glare as he turned the corner. He scurried out of his sight, lest Zaraki killed him with his looks. Yachiru just smiled and hummed a song under her breath as they made their way to another meeting, another drinking party, another thing to remember.

Of Poison and Yukatas, Chapter 1 [Tsubasa]

2008-01-27T23:50:59Z

TITLE: Of Poison and Yukatas
SERIES: Tsubasa
RATING: PG-13
CHAPTER: One of ???
GENRE: Alternate Universe
PAIRING/S: Fai/Kurogane, eventual Kamui/Watanuki (CRAAAACK)
SUMMARY: Kurogane, newly engaged, takes his husband-to-be Fai to the home of his aunts Yuuko and Tomoyo and his off-kilter brother Watanuki. Insanity ensues.
NOTES: Loose parody of the movie/play "Arsenic and Old Lace", for the kuroxfai Winter Challenge.

status: currently on HIATUS

CHAPTER ONE: In Which The Engagement Is Announced, And Reverend Ashura Raises Cain

The large black Cadillac pulled to a stop in front of the Victorian house, the one with the wraparound porch and bare oak tree so common in that part of the neighborhood. The driver's side window rolled down to reveal a scowling face framed by spiky black hair, his eyes aimed at the innocent-looking house.

Kurogane Brewster always loved his aunts, even if they were at times off their rockers, but today was different. Today was the day he'd tell them he was engaged - to another man. And it wasn't their response he was worried about, but the middle-aged Methodist preacher next door - the preacher who happened to be his fiance's father.

He saw an angular face with hooded lids peek out of the front window, stick out her tongue, then disappear behind the chiffon curtains. Kurogane sighed - his surprise was spoiled already, courtesy of Aunt Yuuko's habit of being the neighborhood peeper. It didn't help that she wasn't one for manners, and by now any and all occupants of the Brewster home knew that Kurogane was coming.

Walking away from the car, he approached the house and saw another face peer through the same window - this one gentler, framed by flowing black hair. Aunt Tomoyo waved, then disappeared with a serene smile on her face. She was Kurogane's favorite of the two, even if her quiet nature and complete honesty unnerved him at times.

Kurogane spared a quick glance at the neighboring house, where his fiance, Fai, was currently breaking the news to his father, Reverend Ashura Harper. Seeing the familiar white siding past the old graveyard that separated the two houses made the man wonder if it wasn't too late to steal Fai away for a wedding in Vegas, complete with free booze and the standard overweight Elvis impersonator. Still, it would be wrong to take away from his aunts a chance to perform their first homosexual wedding services, what with both of them being registered non-practicing ministers (blame the Internet, if you must, and their natural curiosity about how the whole 'priest thing' works). God only knew if Ashura would even consider being at the wedding at all, or if he'd bring it to a screeching halt ahead of time by committing homicide and giving a picture of Kurogane's dead mug to thegossip rags.

He stepped through the home's threshold and was instantly assailed by the arms of Aunt Tomoyo. Yuuko was content to sit in her high-backed rocking chair and watch the two from afar.

After they exchanged their formal greetings - asking about the weather, the state of Kurogane's car, et cetera, they all sat in the parlor, where Tomoyo served green tea in ceramic cups with the seal of Clow embossed on them in gold ("A wedding gift I found in the attic," Yuuko explained, though she didn't say who from). Kurogane sipped his tea a little too loudly and ignored the smirk on Yuuko's face.

Tomoyo, oblivious to this exchange, smiled and looked over at Kurogane. "Dear nephew, your visit is quite unexpected. What brings you to the Brewster household today?"

Kurogane cleared his throat. He straightened his tie and shifted around in his ill-fitting black suit. He looked at Tomoyo, then at Yuuko (still smirking, albeit curiously), then back at Tomoyo. He opened his mouth -

The front door slammed open, then shut again, and a burst of cold air followed a middle-aged man into the parlor. His long black hair was pulled into a ponytail and was bouncing around as he positioned himself in the center of the room. With a monstrous look on his face, he pointed at Kurogane as if they were actors on a stage in some kind of melodramatic drama.

"Kurogane Brewster!" The voice of Reverend Ashura Harper practically shook the room. "You dare ask my beloved son's hand in marriage, you charlatan! You wicked abomination against God! I'll have your head for this-"

"Reverend Harper," Yuuko said calmly. She threaded her hands together and rested her bony chin upon them as she spoke. "What a lovely surprise."

"Oh, yes, Reverend, how nice of you to stop by," Tomoyo continued, aware of the problem but not wishing to agitate it any further.

Ashura blinked, then looked around. He lowered his arm sheepishly, then doffed the small black hat resting upon his head. "The Brewster aunties two . . . My apologies, I didn't not see you."

"Of course not," Yuuko said. That insufferable smirk returned to her face in full force. "You were too busy yelling at our poor nephew." He looked over at Kurogane, who was silently seething at this intrusion.

Tomoyo looked at Ashura, then at Kurogane, and smiled. "Does this mean . . . that our lovely nephew Kurogane is to be wed?"

"Yes!"

"No!"

Kurogane glared at his future father-in-law, who dutifully glared back. Tomoyo exclaimed her disbelief at the whole situation whilst fanning herself with one of her penny dreadfuls (something about two gentlemen working at a haunted pharmacy). Yuuko kept on smirking, obviously having a good ol' time.

This rather tense stalemate was broken by the center of this whole maelstrom - and to add to the ridiculousness of it all, he came in through the parlor window, resting his skinny little bottom on the window seat that faced the front lawn. Dressed in his Sunday best (a white suit with a blue vest and sparkly loafers), Fai Harper looked at the scene around him with a goofy grin on his face. His gaze rested on Kurogane's face, which turned a light shade of scarlet.

"Oh, Kuro-dashi, what have you gotten yourself into this time?" He wagged his finger playfully. "That's no behavior for a future husband, y'know. What will the kids think?" Kurogane winced, but said nothing about the mangling of his name - he had learned a long time ago that it was a quirk better left undisturbed.

It couldn't be humanly possible for Ashura to go any crazier, but he once again defied expectations. "My son! Children? With this - this movie critic?" he sputtered.

Kurogane rose half-way out of his seat. "I'll have you know the official title is 'artistic critic', and I get pretty good pay considering the crap they make me watch - err, sorry Aunt Tomoyo."

Tomoyo smiled and waved the offending word away. Yuuko, who Kurogane knew was used to such language, just shrugged.

"More like 'smut peddler'!" Ashura shouted, loud enough to sway the tiny crystals of the chandelier overhead. "You know, back in my day---"

Fai cut off the other Harper's rant by standing up, stretching his arms above his head, then proceeding to usher his belligerent father out of the room. "We'll be at our house for a minute and by the time I come back, Kuro-pon, it'll all be sorted out!" he assured his husband-to-be, patting the irritated man on the head as he passed by with his fuming human cargo.

Ashura sputtered and raged, but could not halt his son pushing him out of the parlor. They heard the front door open and close, and the room buzzed with the silence of a juicy secret having been revealed.

Tomoyo broke the silence. "Anyone in the mood for flan?"

~end of chapter 1

Eyes On You [Bleach]

2008-01-26T04:38:47Z

TITLE: Eyes On You
SERIES: Bleach
RATING: PG-13
CHAPTERS/ONE SHOT: One-Shot
GENRE: Romance/Angst
PAIRING/S: Kira/Gin
SUMMARY: Even when the world was falling apart around their feet, Kira couldn't keep his eyes off his captain.
WORD COUNT: 300
NOTES: Written for bleach_contest's week 4 challenge - distract.

In the darkened hallways of Seireitei, Ichimaru's voice lingered in the air. "Izuru," he called out, lazily twirling the sleeves of his hakama around his fingers. No matter how loud or soft his voice, Kira would come to his side. Always.

'Your captain is a traitor, Izuru. What are you going to do about it?'

It was Gin's eyes that caught Kira's attention the most. Sly like a fox, yet infinite in their depth. Even with a simple glance, a stirring look, Gin seemed to be looking inside and through his vice-captain every time. The eyes that held him, captivated Kira at all times: squad meetings, sparring matches, acts of love underneath the moonlight.

'Even now, will you heed his call?'

Kira's footsteps echoed through the white-washed walls. He didn't hear the other man until it was too late. He felt one hand at the small of his back, and watched the other cover his eyes.

A smooth voice in his ear: "I don't remember callin' your name, Izuru-san."

The blond vice-captain managed a small smile. His old comrade didn't need to say his name aloud anymore. He had always known he was needed.

As Gin wrapped his arm around Kira's shoulder and began leading him to his private quarters, Kira admonished himself quietly for feeling so guilty. After all, this was his captain, the man he had pledged eternal loyalty to. The man who acted as his conscience, even if sarcastically.

"Once again, Izuru-san, you have distracted me from my work."

Their eyes locked. Kira knew that after this act he would awaken from a deep slumber to find himself alone, and he would return to Soul Society once again without his captain.

Tears Dry On Their Own [Naruto]

2008-01-06T19:06:52Z

TITLE: Tears Dry On Their Own
SERIES: Naruto
RATING: PG-13
CHAPTERS/ONE SHOT: One-Shot
GENRE: General
SUMMARY: Sakura at a grave, after the funeral has come and gone, with tears in her eyes.

It wasn't much of a headstone, if you could call it that - it was a pile of stones marking where a body laid six feet under ground. It was a wonder that no one had come by yet to destroy the body, or plunder it of anything worth stealing. In fact, it was a wonder that there was still a body to bury, considering the magnitude of the last battle it was involved in.

After all, he was an important man during his life. The operative word being was, of course.

Sakura was the only one currently bearing witness to this sad attempt at a proper burial. She would be more on guard, more attuned to her surroundings as a proper chuunin should be, if not for the fact that tears were obstructing her view and a familiar numbness had settled over her body. Earlier, there had been some people, but no family members, and especially no people that Sakura wanted to see at a moment like this. Not if they saw the state she was in, open to every emotion imaginable like a newborn child.

She wanted, more than anything, to open her mouth and scream to the heavens: It's not fair! It's just not fair! But her mouth seemed to betray her in its unwillingness to work. Sakura suddenly felt extremely fatigued, as if it had been her who had wielded the heavy shuriken that killed the man now lying ill-fittingly in his grave. She wrapped her arms around her body in an attempt to feel some warmth. Even such a simple movement made her feel as though her blood has turned to the consistency of soft lead.

Sakura began to turn away and return to her apartment, where Tsunade was no doubt waiting for her, knowing full well where her top student had gone. She stopped in mid-turn, then faced the grave once more, the piddly structure a great contrast to the legacy of the body underneath it. Her look was hard but wavering.

"I should have been there," she managed to say, choking on the words, "to see you die, you bastard."

In the bitter silence of a Konoha fall, the pink-haired ninja left Itachi Uchiha's grave for the first and last time, letting the tears on her face dry on their own.

Five's Company [Tsubasa]

2008-01-06T18:39:37Z

TITLE: Five's Company
SERIES: Tsubasa
RATING: PG
CHAPTERS/ONE SHOT: One-Shot
GENRE: General
PAIRING/S: N/A
SUMMARY: Could those who argue over nature versus nurture understand the case of Fai D Flowright, exiled prince, magician, and family man? Spoilers for Fai's back story. Set before Acid!Tokyo.

Could those who argue over nature versus nurture understand the case of Fai D Flowright, exiled prince, magician, and family man? He was a one in a million occurrence, a special kind of person with the power to make you feel at ease the second he cast his famous smile.

Fai, who for years had never seen or felt the touch of a human being. He who had spent his childhood in the snowy tower, screaming and crying and exhausting every last bit of energy in his body. Fai-once-Yuui, because the real Fai was dead. His family was dead, his father committing suicide before his very eyes, cursing him in the process. Celes had collapsed so as to never rise from its mistakes.

Like a set of dominoes, every piece of the life he once had fallen, crashing and burning, never to be whole again.

Yet here he was, relaxing under the palm trees of a distant world, where the skies were a mixture of red and orange, and the beaches were covered in blue sand next to the sparkling lavender waters. Sakura was splashing in the froth of the waves, Syaoran doing a nervous dance around her in a constant fight to keep his princess safe. Kurogane was a few feet away from Fai's lawn chair, attempting to build sand castles despite Mokona's playing the Godzilla to Kuro-kichi's fledgling Tokyo.

Here was something that had been missing from Fai's life since his young years: love. A message sweet enough to make you sick, but true. His parents, in the pursuit of protecting the well-being of Celes, sacrificed his and his twin's lives to imprisonment in an icy hell. Ashura-ou, once the benevolent savior, only wanting Fai to bring about his own end.

The last act of love in the history of Celes - the child Fai giving his life up to Fei Wong to save Yuui - ended up only in causing the magician Fai more grief. Every one of his movements, smiles, words - it all reminded him of the brother he could never see again except in the mirror, an image stained in a sibling's blood.

If he closed his eyes and concentrated, Fai could still feel the raindrops on his face from when he first met the people he would call his family: Syaoran (the proud son), Sakura (the quiet daughter), Kurogane (the reluctant daddy), Mokona (the grand-daughter? son?), Yuko (the distant aunt who sent gifts with excruciating catches to them).

"Aargh! You stupid pork bun!" Kurogane grabbed Mokona by the cheeks and began stretching him out until the poor creature was as thin as he once was rotund. With a pop, he escaped Kurogane's grasp and began bouncing around in what was left of Kurogane's sand creations.

Yes, Fai was certainly special. But no one had to know that just yet. Not yet, while they still believed their Fai-san was a pure and good person (two factors that were arguable to the magician) and could do no wrong. He smiled at his dysfunctional adopted family and relaed as his troubles temporarily floated away with the waves, assured to return with the coming of the next tide.

Sound of Silence [Bleach]

2008-01-06T00:30:50Z

TITLE: Sound of Silence
SERIES: Bleach
RATING: PG-13
CHAPTERS/ONE SHOT: One-Shot
GENRE: General
SUMMARY: Ichigo spars with Renji. The pause you hear is the sound of thoughts collecting. Written for bleach_contest Week 3 ("Mercy")

In music, there is a technique known as a rest.

The angular shape of Renji's limbs are well highlighted through the folds of his kimono, now sticky and drenched in sweat. Moisture gathers at his brow and slowly drips down the sides of his face; to Ichigo, he resembles someone who has recently exited a rain storm. The swift movements of their arms and legs do nothing to relieve the immense heat building in their muscles or the red glow illuminating their cheeks.

They spar with wooden swords, and the air brims with the sound of lacquered wood striking wood. A quick turn of the head, and Renji narrowly avoids the tip of Ichigo's blade, a no-nonsense move typical of the young man - a move that also leaves him temporarily defenseless. With the palm of his hand and a short blast of spirit energy, Renji pushes Ichigo back into the opposite wall of the training room. The boy quickly recovers, using the momentum to return to his classic sparing stance, sword held in front of him and at the ready.

It is used to signify a pause between notes, sometimes as an artistic choice when writing music.

After a quick resumption of their stances, the two men are at it again, blocking and striking with all that they've got. Outside watchers (if there would be any) might wonder how the Ichigo and Renji would be able to resume their anti-Hollow patrol the next day, what with all the spiritual energy they were using in this frenzied sparring match.

Renji watches Ichigo's movements, studies them, is thoroughly impressed by them. The last time they had seriously sparred was within the high walls of Soul Society. That world seemed a hundred years ago. Now, in an era when shinigami wore bone masks and Hollows called themselves Espada, the improvements in Ichigo's fighting skills continued to daze the red-haired man completely. Not enough, though, to distract him in the heat of battle, as Renji deflects another thrust of his opponent's blade and strikes back with his own.

For one blissful moment, Renji has Ichigo at his mercy, his wooden blade seconds away from knocking Ichigo's out of grasp, making him the victor. He thinks to himself, rather gloatingly, that Ichigo really didn't grow up as much as he had hoped. Then, Renji strikes, watching his sword make the final arc through the air to victory. The Karakura punk has no idea what's coming, Renji thinks.

This moment, crystallized: Two combatants are suspended in air, each with sword out to catch the other up; Renji's face screwed up in total concentration on that one strike; Ichigo looking taken aback by his fellow shinigami's power play; the shine of sweat and lacquer and even a little blood creating a bright sheen on their bodies like fairy glamour.

Sometimes, the rest is only the calm before the storm, before the final crescendo is played. It can be very misleading.

Seconds later, Ichigo knocks Renji's blade to the side with a turn of the wrist, and with one movement sweeps Renji's feet out from under him. The thudding sound that echoes throughout the room is tainted with Renji's ill-gained humility.

Ichigo bows to his defeated opponent, resembling more of a maestro than a swordsman. He lifts his head, and Renji sees, as a familiar flush of anger crawls across his face, a wicked smirk on Kurosaki's face.

"I had you," Renji spits out, anger entering his tone. He manages to get into a standing position, but by that time Ichigo is already placing his wooden sword back into storage. "Acknowledge that I had you, damn it!"

Ichigo turns to face Renji, still looking like the newly crowned king of the universe.

"No, it was I who had you," he said, the voice of a victor. "The fact that I didn't cut you in half in the first minute was me showing mercy."

The youth exits the room, still smiling even as the echoes of Renji's angry yelling and cursing and cries of "Cheat!" follow him out into the open air.

Rests can also be very useful if your name is Ichigo Kurosaki.

Rest of Us [Ayashi no Ceres]

2008-01-05T22:01:45Z

TITLE: Rest of Us
SERIES: Ayashi no Ceres
RATING: PG-13
CHAPTERS/ONE SHOT: One-Shot
GENRE: General
SUMMARY: Aki's final act: the aftereffects still linger in the hearts of the few who knew him. (Alec and Toya centric) Spoilers for end of the series.

At the edge of the cliff, overlooking the sea, two figures are outlined by the rays of the setting sun, dark silhouettes on a background of orange and red and blue. With the wind at their back and the high grass nipping coyly at their slacks, they stare out into the expansive waters, silent.

Slowly, one figure stirred: he raised his arm over his head in a lazy stretch, then covers his mouth with it as to muffle an escaping yawn. The other's head turned ever so slightly towards the sound, and a wrinkle of disapproval appeared on his brow.

A cautionary tone: "Alec-sama."

Alec, ever the free Highland spirit, softly giggled at the use of honorifics on his European name. "There's no need for such formalities among colleagues, is there, Toya?"

Toya grimaced. "That business is finished, as is everything having to do with it." For a moment, he looked away, his face etched in pain, but when he turned back, it was back in the same stoic look as before. "So, we are no longer colleagues . . . or anything else, really."

The scientist made a tch-ing noise. "Is that so, Toya? Don't forget, we are still connected, you and I." As he spoke, he looked at Toya with an intensity that was unlike his character. "Through young Aki Mikage."

For a moment, there was silence: a hard, blistering silence that showed neither agreement or disapproval.

Toya spoke first. "She has let him go," he said, as if exhaling a difficult breath, "so I have as well."

"But he has not let go of you." Alec drew closer to the other man. "Even now, you question if you could make the same sacrifice he did. If you can love Miss Aya as much as ---"

"Enough." Toya did not bother to hide the discomfort on his face. "Why must you provoke me so? Dr Howell, is this how they treat old friends back in Dunoon?"

Alec turned away, as if to hide the small smile playing upon his face. "Oh, Toya, I'm just a curious soul, looking for answers. Don't forget, I knew Aki as well, if not better than you." He faced Toya as he spoke: "I'm just trying to make it easier for you, don't you see?"

"Bullshit! This is all to assuage your damned guilt!"

"Guilt? Me?"

"You couldn't save Aki yourself, so your putting your guilt on me, you damned Scottish brat!" Toya made a move as if to strike the other man. Alec responded by doing what he did best: freaking out. Alec waved his arms in front of him as to make a shield. The scene was so pathetic that Toya backed off and started to laugh, deep throaty sounds that brought Alec out of his pseudo-aneurysm.

"These seaside chats always amuse me," Toya said as they began to walk away from the water, just as a wave rose and crashed harmlessly against the side of the cliff.

"It's nice to see how you've matured since then, Toya," Alec said with a smile. "I wish you'd let me see Aya, though!"

"I don't want to remind her of the past." Toya laughed softly, almost unheard. "It might be too painful for our new family to bear. Maybe, one day."

He stood for a moment, still, his eyes focused somewhere on the darkening sky before him. "Until that time comes, I'll protect Aya from the pain that I've suffered from life's lessons."

"You're a great husband, Mr Toya," Alec said with such affection that it turned Toya's face a fairer shade of crimson. "I'm sure you do your best . . ."

Toya shrugged, and they set out towards the shrine, the place where every week their well-trodden paths would once again split. "If I make Aya happy . . . then I suppose I am."

Alec could feel the sun drop below the horizon, the stars beginning to shine as he spoke. "Even though Aki gave away the greatest gift of all to protect those that he loved, the rest of us still can't afford the luxury of avoiding life's pains."

They reached the familiar azalea bush, and the sight of the spotted red blossoms told Alec that his weekly visit has come to a close. The two men exchange simple farewells, knowing it's never truly goodbye when seven days from now is right around the corner. For Alec, he is returning to his apartment on a far corner of the island, where he works in isolation on the next great invention, one that will put Dr Alexander Howell on the map. For Toya, he will soon resume his life with Aya and her - no, their - unborn child, a life of solitude and peace.

Toya watched Alec retreat down the dirt path, his figure growing dimmer in the dying light of day. In his mind, he is planning what to wear, what to say and what to do when that day comes. He hopes that Alec can be there when Aya places the bouquet of spotted red azaleas on his grave, be the father and husband he could have been.

He returned to the shrine-house only to be greeted by Aya, face flushed pink from making dinner, a smile wide upon her face. In her face, Toya can see the remnants of Aki, and he smiled back.