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[REPOST] Stargate SG-1 fic: Fishing is Good

This story is being reposted from 2011 as part of this endeavor. It’s been lightly edited for spelling, punctuation, grammar and for clarity. See the original here.

sg1_fishingisgood

Jack and Sam enjoy a leisurely mission along a lake. I’m sure there has to be some fish in that water.
570 words | [PG]


“I could stay here forever,” Sam murmured. The heat of the mid-day sun warmed her exposed skin, sending a pleasing shiver down her spine. She spread her limbs out letting the soft grass glide against her body. The ground felt cool and solid under her, and the smell of pine and freshwater saturated the air.

Next to her, the colonel rolled onto his stomach so he could see her face. His cheeks were slightly sunburned and his hair, now freed from his cap, was sticking up in impossible directions. She fought every urge to reach out and run her fingers through it. “It’s not bad,” he said, pulling up a long blade of grass to play with.

“It’s perfect.”

“The view’s good.” He squinted up at the horizon where three white-peaked mountains rose over the treeline. Like a royal family lording over their empire.

Sam let her head fall to the side, the bill of her hat guarding her eyes. He was staring down at his hands now as they twisted and pulled apart blade after blade of grass. “I bet the lake as fish.” She bit her lip and waited for his response.

Slowly, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Sam pressed her teeth deeper into her lip to keep her own grin hidden. “You think?” he asked, his voice sounding pleased.

“We could find out.” Read more…

[REPOST] Stargate SG-1 fic: Playing the Game: Rules Are Meant To Be Broken

This story is being reposted from 2011 as part of this endeavor. It’s been lightly edited for spelling, punctuation, grammar and for clarity. See the original here.

sg1_playingthegame

Jack visits Sam on Atlantis after she takes command. (With the premise that they didn’t get together after Threads.)
1,524 words | [PG]

“So what do you think, sir?” Sam watched his expression as she guided him through the labyrinth-like corridors of Atlantis. She’d been the expedition commander for six months now, and this was his first visit while she was in charge. She felt a nervous flutter of her stomach and wondered why. She’d felt less anxious going up for her first promotion review. This was General O’Neill after all.

After a moment, he turned to her, hands clasped behind his back. “Looks good, Colonel. Any problems since you’ve taken over.”

Relief swelled in her, and she shook away the cobwebs of doubt that invaded her head. “Not really. Just your typical disgruntled personnel.”

“There’s always a few that don’t adapt well to a regime change.”

She snorted. “I’d hardly call it a regime change, sir.”

“Going from a civilian command to military is a lot to take. Especially with a science expedition like this.”

“It hasn’t been that bad. And I think things have smoothed out rather nicely.”

He must have noticed her defensiveness because his expression softened with a smile. “I’m sure it has, Carter. I wasn’t trying to imply otherwise. I just know it’s… hard. Being in charge.”

She regarded him for several beats but found his words sincere. He knew from experience. She nodded in agreement. “It’s different here, though. We’re so far from home that we rely on each other a great amount so we’re all kind of like-”

“Family?”

She smiled up at him. “Yeah, family.”

“That’s good, Carter. You deserve to have family close.” Read more…

[REPOST] Firefly fic: Teardrops

This story is being reposted from 2008 as part of this endeavor.

ff_teardrops

100 words | [PG]


The tear dropped onto Mal’s cheek.

“You stupid, stupid man,” Inara said. “Why do you have to be so noble all the time?”

She carefully wiped the tear and blood from his face, softly kissing the clean skin beneath. She was well aware the doctor was still in the room, but no longer cared.

“I didn’t even get to tell you how I really feel,” she murmured, her lips brushing his.

The doctor cleared his throat. “Uh, he’s not dead. He’s not even unconscious.”

“What?”

“How ‘xactly you feel ’bout me?” Mal asked, a devilish grin spreading across his face.

[REPOST] The 100 fic: At the Center of the Night

This story is being reposted from 2017 as part of this endeavor. Since it was written in the last few years, it didn’t need any extra editing (yay!), but it fits with my theme for February, so I’m reposting it. Enjoy.

sleep

Sleepless nights send Bellamy and Clarke on a crash course to finally fixing their friendship. Post season 3.
2,054 words | [R for language]


I’m not even sure why I’m here. I was on my way back to my quarters but took a wrong turn. I guess I wasn’t paying attention. But now that I’m here, I’m not sure what to do. The hall is dark—the power low to reflect the late hour—and it’s quiet. Everyone went to bed hours ago. I think about turning around. I think about going through with it. I think about running for my life because I’m sure this might be the biggest fucking mistake I could ever make.

All of this runs through my head in the matter of seconds. While my brain is trying to sort it out, my feet get a mind of their own. Next thing I know, I’m standing in front of Clarke’s quarters.

This is okay, isn’t it? We’re friends. After everything we’ve been through, it’s perfectly normal for one friend to call on another. I ignore the fact that it’s three in the morning. She said we needed each other. That had to mean something, right? And right now I need her. I need to talk to her. She always gets me like no one else can, not even Octavia. I need to talk to her. I need to see her face. To assure myself that she’s still here. That she isn’t some cruel prank my brain is playing on me. That she’s real, and she stayed this time.

She needed me.

And now I need her.

I hover in front of her door, rooted by indecision. On one hand, Lexa just died. It’s not like I’m asking her to marry me—I just want to talk. To spend time with her. We’re friends. On the other hand, the world is probably going to end in another month. There aren’t going to be many more somedays. I pull my hand back to knock, but then I hear footsteps.

My heart leaps into my throat as someone rounds the corner, but it’s just one of the guards. Probably heading home from the late shift just like me. He barely gives me a nod as he passes, his heavy steps scuffing the floor. I let out a breath. This is ridiculous. If I’m jumping like a startled school kid caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar then I know this is wrong.

I spin on my heel and force myself to walk away. Without looking back. This never happened. I won’t even think about how close I came to making a fool out of myself. I’ll go home, take a hot shower, pretend I can sleep in my soft bed, and when I get up, she’ll have breakfast with me and our friends. She’s real. She’s here. She wants to be here.

Because she has nowhere else to go. Read more…

[REPOST] Stargate SG-1 fic: Simplifying

Jack tries to talk Sam into taking over as head of the SGC but Sam has other ideas.
995 words | [PG-13]


“You know, Carter,” Jack said as they rounded the corner heading for the bank of elevators, “you could just come back to the SGC.”

She walked next to him, hands clasped behind her back but looking completely casual. He marveled at her. “I suppose.”

Their heels clicked on the polished stone floor of the Pentagon. Jack nodded at several startled servicemen as they exited an office to his right. They eagerly got out of his way. Rank did have some privileges he thought with a smirk.

“You don’t seem too enthused at the thought.”

She shrugged.

“And that means?”

That got a bit of a smile out of her. “I hadn’t really thought about it, sir. After Atlantis and the Hammond-” She trailed off, her gaze getting glossy. She shook her head slightly before continuing. “I’m not sure I want to go back to the field.”

They arrived at the elevators, and Jack slammed his thumb into the up arrow. “Carter,” he said, keeping his voice low, “you have to realize you are on the shortlist to take over for Landry when he retires. A very short list.”

She shrugged again, her eyes never quite meeting his. Jack frowned. At her, at the elevator, at the situation. She seemed to notice his agitation because she gestured with her head at the stairs. Jack shoved the door open with a little more force than necessary.

“You want out, don’t you?” he accused. Read more…

[REPOST] Stargate SG-1 fic: Don’t Drink the Wine

This story is being reposted from 2011 as part of this endeavor. It’s been lightly edited for spelling, punctuation, grammar and for clarity. See the original here.

It’s cliché but so much fun when “aliens made them do it.” Daniel and Vala get caught after participating in a wedding ceremony on an alien planet. He really should know better by now.
834 words | [PG-13]


“Up and at ‘em, Jackson.”

A boot connected with Daniel’s side. He groaned and rolled away, snuggling deeper into his sleeping bag. His head was killing him—felt like a full marching band playing the 1812 Overture in there, complete with canons. The boot nudged him again, a little more insistent this time.

“Go ‘way,” Daniel mumbled. He was vaguely aware of other voices around him but had neither the will nor want to get up or even to try and understand what they were saying. After a short discussion, the foot ground into his back and shook violently.

“Get up.” Daniel recognized Mitchell’s voice, but he sounded like he was speaking from a great distance. And through cotton. His brain fought to catch up to his senses while the treads of his commander’s boot dug into his tender flesh. Daniel frowned into the soft fabric of his bag. Flesh? Something wasn’t right.

He reached a tentative hand over his body and let it drift over his back and around the boot still planted there. Where the hell was his shirt? The foot moved, and then he felt someone squat down next to his head. When Mitchell spoke again it was softer and closer to his ear.

“That’s right, Daniel, wakey-wakey. Time to get up and face the music.”

What was that supposed to mean? And why the hell was he naked? The realization that not only was his shirt missing, but his pants as well finally broke through the dense fog in his head. He pushed up on one arm and looked around—his vision still fuzzy from sleep. Read more…

[REPOST] Girl Genius fic: Quit Pretending

This story is being reposted from 2018 as part of this endeavor. Since it was written in the last few years, it didn’t need any extra editing (yay!), but it fits with my theme for February, so I’m reposting it. Enjoy.

Canon-diverent. Set sometime after Mechanicsburg is freed as everyone settles into life at Castle Heterodyne. Agatha thinks she knows how to fix Gil and Tarvek’s relationship. She’s usually right.
1,065 words | [PG_13]


“That’s it! I can’t take it anymore!”

Gil stumbled to a stop as Agatha swung around to face him and Tarvek. They shared uneasy glances at the slight Sparkiness in her tone. “Wha-” he started to say, but she cut him off.

“The arguing and bickering. Can’t you two do anything without fighting?”

Another exchange of looks. Gil couldn’t even remember what they were fighting about moments ago, but he knew they’d been doing it. They fought over everything and anything and nothing. He wasn’t even sure why anymore.

“We’re not-” Tarvek protested, but Agatha put a hand up to stop him.

“Enough. I don’t want to hear it. I want you to fix it.”

They looked at each other, neither wanting to ask the question. Agatha sighed dramatically. “You’re both ridiculous, you know that. This isn’t as difficult as you’re making it out to be.”

Gil was so confused. “Making what difficult?”

Agatha rolled her eyes. “Getting along. Being around each other. You try so hard to irritate each other instead of being friends. You spend all your time pretending to hate each other—always pushing the other aw—when it’s obviously not what you want.”

“It’s not?”

The Spark flashed in her eyes again. Uh-oh. “No. And since you two are stubborn idiots, it looks like I’m going to have to fix everything like I always do.”

She wrenched each by the arm so they were facing each other then took a step back, expectantly. Gil stared at an equally baffled Tarvek.

“Agatha,” Tarvek said, slowly, “are you feeling ill?”

“I told you, I’m going to fix this constant fighting thing.”

“How?” Read More…

[REPOST] The 100 fic: Wash Away the Pain

This story is being reposted from 2017 as part of this endeavor. Since it was written in the last few years, it didn’t need any extra editing (yay!), but it fits with my theme for February, so I’m reposting it. Enjoy.

blood

Clarke has too much blood on her hands, but Bellamy is there to help wash it away.
1,280 words | [PG-13]


Clarke staggers through the trees towards the rush of water she hears in the distance. Her right hand presses against a growing pain in her side. Her left hangs limply, knife dangling from her fingertips. The noise of the river drowns out the echoing screams of death in her head.

She falls to her knees on the bank, retching until the bile erases the bitter taste of copper that stings the back of her throat.

So much blood.

It’s everywhere—staining her clothes, caking her hair, dripping from her eyelashes. She stares at her hands—sticky with red—until they blur behind a curtain of tears. She thrusts her hands into the freezing water, scrubbing her skin raw, but the red isn’t going away.
Her chest seizes up as another sob wracks her.

It’s not my blood.

“Clarke?”

She’s not sure if she’s relieved or terrified that it’s Bellamy that followed her. She goes back to scrubbing the blood from her hands. Bellamy squats next to her, pulling her hands from the water to hold between his. He gently tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and wipes a line of blood trickling from her temple.

“What do I do?” she whispers. “I can’t get it off.”

He looks down at her hands. “They’re clean, Clarke.” Read more…

 

[REPOST] Stargate SG-1 fic: Talk of the Town

This story is being reposted from 2011 as part of this endeavor. It’s been lightly edited for spelling, punctuation, grammar and for clarity. See the original here.

Sam and Jack get stranded on a planet when the Gate malfunctions. What to do with their time?
2,693 words | [PG-13]


“You know, Carter,” Jack said, kicking at a half-buried rock, “people are going to start talking.”

“About what, sir?” Her voice was muffled by the DHD—her head buried in the innards of the ancient device.

“Us.”

She looked up at him, squinting at the sun that glinted over his shoulder. “What about us?” She had that look in her eye. The one that said she thought she knew what they were not discussing.

Jack pulled his gaze away from her and stared at the barren horizon. This planet was desolate. No civilization. No habitation at all as far as they could tell. They did their tests, set up their equipment and huffed it back to the gate as quickly as possible.

“Just… these things keep happening to us,” he finally said with a slight grimace.

Carter grunted. “It’s not our fault the Gate malfunctioned.” She ducked back into the DHD, a string of muttered curses following her.

Jack smiled and tried to ignore the fact that all he could see was her wiggling backside. He quickly looked away, his thoughts confirming his concern over the situation. “No, it’s not. But when the same thing keeps happening to just us.”

“It’s not always just us, sir. Last time Teal’c got stuck with us.” She continued to grumble to herself as she tried to figure out the issue with the DHD this time.

“I know that. Doesn’t stop people from talking.” Jack kicked at the offending rock, finally breaking it free of its grave. It skittered across the hard-packed dirt landing next to Carter’s leg. She suddenly rocked back on her heels and threw a broken crystal into the now empty compartment with disgust.

“Since when do you care what people think?”

“I don’t.” Read more…

[REPOST] Stargate SG-1 fic: All It Took Was a Sunrise

This story is being reposted from 2012 as part of this endeavor. It’s been lightly edited for spelling, punctuation, grammar and for clarity. See the original here.

Daniel, Vala and the sunrise—just a little bit of talking. And a lot more action.
1,632 words | [PG-13]


It’s still dark when Daniel’s watch goes off. He gropes for the small button that stifles the noise, groaning into his jacket balled under his head. With a yawn and great effort, he hauls himself up and slides his feet into his boots.

The air is crisp, smelling of pine and fresh rain. Daniel shivers and pulls his jacket closed, tucking his hands under his arms. He expects to see the fire going, maybe some coffee already brewing, but the clearing outside his tent is eerily empty—the fire long burned out.

“Crap,” he mumbles as he rubs the tired from his eyes. Where the hell is Vala? Mitchell is going to kill her.

He spends several minutes wandering around the woods before he finds her. She’s sitting on an outcrop of rocks, the valley far below. The view is amazing as the sun begins to peek over the horizon—the sky turning a pale shade of pink. Vala’s got her legs tucked up, chin resting on her knees, arms tight around her. Daniel can’t see her face, but he notices how her shoulders relax when a salty breeze blows in from the sea beyond the distant hills.

Her hair flutters around her, and a hand comes up to push it from her face. It glistens in the dawn light like the moon shimmering on a placid lake. Daniel’s struck by how beautiful she looks—hair coming loose, clothes coated in a layer of dust, the first rays of the morning sun casting a glow around her. His pulse quickens, unwanted thoughts rushing through his mind.

He can’t deny there’s always been some kind of attraction—even as they duked it out on the Prometheus all those years ago—but this feels different. His stomach flips, curls in on itself until his insides feel like a tightly wound ball of rubber bands. Just waiting to snap. Read more…

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