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mmexlibris) wrote2009-11-30 10:25 am
mmexlibris) wrote2009-11-30 10:25 am
Entry tags:
[prompts] Pick a number, any number.
Random prompt:
Step 1: Pick a character or pairing. (Your puplist, my puplist, some combination thereof, whatever.)
Step 2: Pick a number between 1 and 10. Scribble it down.
Step 3: Pick a number between 1 and 100. Scribble it down.
Step 4: Go here. Take your first number and pick a table. Take your second number and pick a prompt.
Step 5: Repeat steps 2 and 3 as many times as you like. (Dice roller here.)
Step 5: Comment here with your prompt.
no subject
Gecko, Laranth: Doors
River, Ryan: Pretend *facepalms so much*
And because I'm curious
Fi, McCoy: Ragged
*goes to put this in my own journal, never mind how I should be working on Yuletide*
no subject
OHGOD.
I'm so writing smut with Fi & Bones, you KNOW this, right?
no subject
no subject
River, Ace: How?
Ace stares, incredulous. "The Professor?"
"Yes," River smirks, rolling her eyes at the memory. "Well, to be fair he was a little on the exhausted side."
"My Professor?"
"Oh yes, yes indeed. I mean, we hadn't left the bedroom in a --"
"River, no, just -- no."
"What? Oh come now. You've been to Gallifrey. You know how they can be."
"Honestly, no, no I don't. I was there to study."
"Oh we were studying all right. He can be very studious when he wants to be."
"RIVER."
"Fine, suit yourself." She sips her tea, beaming in smug silence. Really, too easy.
Gecko, Laranth: Doors
There is flouncing. And pouting.
"Empire piss in your cheerios this morning?"
"My door is gone."
"Oooo, really. That's unfortunate. Here, try this."
"It might kill me."
"Impossible. Drink."
"But my -- "
"Drink."
"..." She does so, her eyes lighting up.
"See? I'm not a complete waste of space. I do know my way around a cocktail menu, if I do say so myself."
River / Ryan, pretend
"I've been here four years. Stranger things have happened."
"Richard..." She hands him the glass to dry.
"You're the one who went and got buddy buddy with a fertility goddess, aren't you?"
"You're really not funny, you know that? I'm sure it's just a little stomach flu. Crackers and ginger ale and I'll be fine."
"You never know about these things."
"Besides, you'd know. My scent would change."
He leans in close, burying his nose behind her ear, breathing deep. He pulls back, eyes slit and his face a mask of seriousness. "Mmm, one would think." He bends down again, repeating the gesture, until she cocks her head, her shoulder rising.
"Richard!"
"Wot? I need to be sure, don't I?"
She laughs, and leans into him. "Help me finish these dishes first and we can adjourn to the living room."
He does as he's told, grumbling under his breath only a little. "I thought you hated children."
She cocks an eyebrow at him. Her scent tells him everything he needs to know.
Fi, McCoy, Ragged (Has pity on your brains)
He leans against the wall and sinks down, gesturing silently for the flask of bourbon he'd seen her nursing. "He's gonna be fine."
"I know."
"He's an idiot, but he's going to be fine."
She laughs, still not looking up. "I know."
"What about you?"
"I'll be fine too," she says, but she doesn't know if she believes it anymore. "I'm always fine."
He sits and drinks in silence for awhile. "Sure you don't want to talk about it?"
Again she laughs, but the sound is brittle, like a dry leaf crumbling under foot. "Wouldn't do any good."
"You never know."
She gives him a look that says leave it. "Thanks again, for patching him up."
"It's my job."
"I know. But -- yeah, thanks."
"You're welcome, little lady."
She watches his strange blue eyes for a long moment. And then she's standing, dusting her hands off on her faded jeans, rolling her neck from side to side. It cracks softly. "Keep the flask. You can give it back to me the next time you see me."
He doesn't even bother to get up. "Much obliged." It's been a long night.